#designed by my sister! they literally came in two hours ago it's fate
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koga birthday!!!!
#enstars#ensemble stars#koga oogami#大神晃牙生誕祭2023#大神晃牙誕生祭2023#designed by my sister! they literally came in two hours ago it's fate#they'll be available online and at anirevo heheheh
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NEW CHARACTERS ARE HERE!
First off: Ganieda, Merlin’s sister!
In the original Legends, they’re two years apart, but like I’ve said before, in TKN they’re twins! (Thirty minutes apart. Merlin holds this over her head constantly.)
I was having trouble on whether she was going to be alive present day or not for a bit, because in Emerald Embers she was dead in the present day. But then sibling dynamics entered my head and would not leave, so here we are!
Despite being the same chronological age as Merlin, she’s physically in her 20-30’s. She wanted to stay at that age, so she cast the spell that makes wizards immortal then.
Merlin became immortal at 65 primarily because he wanted white hair, (and he thought it would hopefully make him look more distinguished) but it came at a cost (back pain). Yes, he aged very well otherwise. But he can still complain about how being half demon didn’t spare him from this cruel fate.
She and Merlin have been away from each other for a while, but it wasn’t a traumatic separation or anything like that. She just wanted to settle down and live a domestic life with her wife for a while. (Yup, she’s a lesbian here. You’re welcome.)
They still did keep tabs on each other while Merlin traveled the world with Charlie, advising kings and fighting monsters, and she’s going to contact Merlin in his POV, and officially show up in Chapter Two!
I found some possible Afro hairstyles for her, and her body type is going to be based off of Rhea Ripley!
Second character: Vivian, Ganieda’s wife!
(Sure technically it’s an alternate name for Nimue but it’s right there so. And Nimue doesn’t use aliases in TKN lol)
She’s an older oc, but I had forgotten about her for a while 😭
I didn’t have any attachment to her for the most part because she didn’t have a name, but when thinking about Ganieda, I decided she deserves a monster wife, and starting looking through ocs! I was divided between a couple of others before I settled on her.
Here’s her design, and a couple of face and hair references!
Their ship name is going to be Ganievian I think? Thanks @falki-of-the-vanir for that!!
I need to start thinking of possible dynamics for them, but I literally just had this idea a couple of hours ago so it’s fine lol.
Anyways, enjoy the lesbian wives :D
#yelling#the king of the nameless#old tkn content#my ocs#ganieda ambrosius#vivian ambrosius#ganievian
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200 Questions
No one asked me to do it but I made @sharpiewashere do it so it’s only fair I suffer through, too.
200: My crush’s name is: Zach because husband but also... Tommy motherfuckin’ Flanagan
199: I was born in: New Hampshire
198: I am really: horny and annoyed
197: My cellphone company is: Verizon
196: My eye color is: Brown
195: My shoe size is: like 10.5W I think.
194: My ring size is: I think it’s a 9.
193: My height is: 5’ 3”
192: I am allergic to: cats and crop dust
191: My 1st car was: old ass shitty Jeep Grand Cherokee
190: My 1st job was: at a stand in a city mall where we had an inflatable slide and two bounces houses and served sno cones, smoothies, and novelty ice creams
189: Last book you read: Fangs by Sarah Andersen
188: My bed is: fuckin’ broken and uncomfortable and clearly not big enough for myself and my bedhog husband.
187: My pet: 1 old black cat.
186: My best friend: Yuki (that bitch is my best best best friend and I miss her to pieces)
185: My favorite shampoo is: Garnier Whole Blends: Honey Treasures
184: Xbox or ps3: Fuck both. Switch.
183: Piggy banks are: cute
182: In my pockets: nada at the moment
181: On my calendar: is scribbles from my kid
180: Marriage is: Don’t marry a redneck!
179: Spongebob can: stop. Give me the early Bob but that’s it.
178: My mom: loves Unicorns
177: The last three songs I bought were? Wap metal version, Room with a Zoo, Shoop
176: Last YouTube video watched: GabSmolders playing Control
175: How many cousins do you have? technically only 2 by blood and actual familial connections. 6 if you count some others. 9 if you count step-cousins.
174: Do you have any siblings? 1 big Seester!
173: Are your parents divorced? Yeah
172: Are you taller than your mom? Maybe? IDK, we’re both shorties
171: Do you play an instrument? sadly, no.
170: What did you do yesterday? Slept and worked
[ I Believe In ]
169: Love at first sight: yes
168: Luck: yes
167: Fate: yes
166: Yourself: HA, you’re funny.
165: Aliens: no
164: Heaven: these are...
163: Hell: ... kinda loaded...
162: God: ... questions
161: Horoscopes: maybe
160: Soul mates: yes
159: Ghosts: yes
158: Gay Marriage: yes
157: War: yes
156: Orbs: yes
155: Magic: yes
[ This or That ]
154: Hugs or Kisses: hugs
153: Drunk or High: unfortunately neither.
152: Phone or Online: online
151: Red heads or Black haired: black
150: Blondes or Brunettes: brunette
149: Hot or cold: cold
148: Summer or winter: winter
147: Autumn or Spring: autumn
146: Chocolate or vanilla: chocolate
145: Night or Day: night
144: Oranges or Apples: apples
143: Curly or Straight hair: straight
142: McDonalds or Burger King: McD’s outta these choices but I’d take Steak’N’Shake over either.
141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: Milk and Dark.
140: Mac or PC: PC
139: Flip flops or high heals: flip flops
138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: Zach can be sweet (he certainly isn’t ugly to look at) and we’re definitely on the poor side.
137: Coke or Pepsi: Pepsi (anybody remember Pepsi Twist? That was the best!)
136: Hillary or Obama: Obama
135: Buried or cremated: Buried I guess. Though, if I’m cremated, my ashes need to be spread in one place and no separating them.
134: Singing or Dancing: singing
133: Coach or Chanel: I am a redneck, these things don’t mean anything to me.
132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: who?
131: Small town or Big city: small town
130: Wal-Mart or Target: Either? I shop Wal-Mart all the time out of convenience but I do like Target
129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: I am overall not a fan of either barring a select couple movies (like Heavyweights and Little Nicky)
128: Manicure or Pedicure: no thanks.
127: East Coast or West Coast: east coast
126: Your Birthday or Christmas: Christmas
125: Chocolate or Flowers: chocolate
124: Disney or Six Flags: Can I go to a Zoo instead?
123: Yankees or Red Sox: I’ll say Sox because New England but I don’t particularly care for baseball.
[ Here’s What I Think About ]
122: War: there’s a time and place
121: George Bush: he’s an idiot?
120: Gay Marriage: yay!
119: The presidential election: tearing families apart because people are stupid and vote for Trump
118: Abortion: this is a bit of a grey area for me. While I firmly believe in “my body, my choice”, I do not accept that argument if you are constantly getting them as if it is a form of birth control. Use proper contraceptives you slut.
117: MySpace: does that even exist anymore?
116: Reality TV: certain ones can assume me.
115: Parents: love them even when you don’t like them.
114: Back stabbers: pussies.
113: Ebay: never used it
112: Facebook: is reserved for pictures of kids, pets, funny videos and memes, and gifs.
111: Work: shitty... literally
110: My Neighbors: I’m just glad they aren’t the cousin-fuckers or the Methicans anymore.
109: Gas Prices: it takes like 20 bucks to fill my tiny car gas tank so whatever.
108: Designer Clothes: never fit me
107: College: didn’t go.
106: Sports: HA. My fat ass play sports? Maybe Badminton or Tetherball but that’s it.
105: My family: lives too far away.
104: The future: needs to be better than now.
[ Last time I ]
103: Hugged someone: like 20 mins ago when my kid was trying to suck up to me to get a sip of my frappe.
102: Last time you ate: two hours ago.
101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: Zane’s first day of school this year. Miss Angie came over to see him off in the morning.
100: Cried in front of someone: probably a few weeks ago.
99: Went to a movie theater: Twilight Breaking Dawn pt 2.
98: Took a vacation: three years ago.
97: Swam in a pool: probably close to 8 or more years ago.
96: Changed a diaper: 4-5 yrs ago.
95: Got my nails done: professionally? never. By Zane? last weekend.
94: Went to a wedding: three years ago.
93: Broke a bone: never. dislocated shit though.
92: Got a piercing: over a decade
91: Broke the law: probably frequently without realizing it.
90: Texted: couple mins ago.
[ MISC ]
89: Who makes you laugh the most: oh I’m a funny bitch
88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: nothing? fuck this house. fuck this town. fuck this state. I wanna go HOME home.
87: The last movie I saw: Smokin’ Aces 2
86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: my nephew’s birth and the vacation we plan to take to see him!
85: The thing i’m not looking forward to: the travel for the vacation stated above.
84: People call me: a lot of things. most of them true.
83: The most difficult thing to do is: wake up
82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: nope
81: My zodiac sign is: Taurus
80: The first person i talked to today was: my husband
79: First time you had a crush: I had a massive crush on Shawn Micheals as a kid.
78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: my Seester
77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: probably someone in the Flanaclan Chapel
76: Right now I am talking to: the Flanaclan on and off
75: What are you going to do when you grow up: I’m supposed to grow up?
74: I have/will get a job: yes
73: Tomorrow: is Halloween
72: Today: I’m horny and annoyed
71: Next Summer: is a long time away
70: Next Weekend: work
69: I have these pets: already answered
68: The worst sound in the world: right now I’d have to say it’s Zane clucking his tongue.
67: The person that makes me cry the most is: myself? or more specifically my anxiety brain.
66: People that make you happy: my Flanaclan friends, my bff, my sister.
65: Last time I cried: a few weeks ago
64: My friends are: on the internet and/or mostly too far away
63: My computer is: a hunk of shit laptop
62: My School: never going ever again.
61: My Car: looks like the car emoji.
60: I lose all respect for people who: beat animals
59: The movie I cried at was: recently? Up
58: Your hair color is: brown
57: TV shows you watch: SOA, SVU, SWAT, wrestling, Wynonna Earp, Van Helsing, Supernatural
56: Favorite web site: tumblr and youtube
55: Your dream vacation: Scotland, Ireland, Wales, England, all that.
54: The worst pain I was ever in was: dislocating my knee
53: How do you like your steak cooked: med rare
52: My room is: some boring off-white
51: My favorite celebrity is: Tommy Flanagan
50: Where would you like to be: New Hampshire
49: Do you want children: I have 1 and that’s 1 too many.
48: Ever been in love: yup
47: Who’s your best friend: didn’t I already answer this?
46: More guy friends or girl friends: girls nowadays. guys around here suck.
45: One thing that makes you feel great is: reading Chibs fics, staring at Flanagan
44: One person that you wish you could see right now: Flanagan
43: Do you have a 5 year plan: hell no
42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: no
41: Have you pre-named your children: I did not.
40: Last person I got mad at: me
39: I would like to move to: for the millionth time, New Hampshire
38: I wish I was a professional: dog sitter/walker
[ My Favorites ]
37: Candy: Sour Patch Watermelons
36: Vehicle: 90′s Ford Ranger, Jeep Renegade, Jeep Wrangler, Jeep Gladiator, Ford Shelby GT350R
35: President: certainly not the fuckin’ current one.
34: State visited: Massachusetts
33: Cellphone provider: Verizon
32: Athlete: Aleister Black, Drew McIntyre, Luchasaurus, Sonny Kiss (and fuck you if you try to tell me they aren’t athletes)
31: Actor: Tommy Flanagan
30: Actress: Millie Bobby Brown
29: Singer: Ville Valo
28: Band: HIM
27: Clothing store: don’t care.
26: Grocery store: don’t care.
25: TV show: Law & Order: SVU (as much as I’d love to say SOA, Law & Order was my first real love)
24: Movie: 10 Things I Hate About You
23: Website: tumblr, youtube
22: Animal: dogs, wolves
21: Theme park: Zoos
20: Holiday: Halloween
19: Sport to watch: professional wrestling, football, hockey
18: Sport to play: nothing that requires that much energy
17: Magazine: don’t read them much
16: Book: the House Of Night series and sequel series by P.C. Cast and Kristen Cast (I don’t care that I’m probably too old for them now, I love them)
15: Day of the week: Saturday
14: Beach: Hampton Beach, NH
13: Concert attended: 69 Eyes headlined (opening with Night Kills The Day, then Fair To Midland which were fine but also Wednesday 13!!!!!)
12: Thing to cook: fajitas
11: Food: apple fritters/apple cider donuts
10: Restaurant: Panda Express I suppose.
9: Radio station: WGFA
8: Yankee candle scent: Midsummers Night
7: Perfume: don’t wear perfume so much as body spray and it’s usually something like cucumber melon or some baked goods scent.
6: Flower: Tiger Lillies
5: Color: Green- specifically Forest/Hunter
4: Talk show host: idk I used to watch Maury all the time, does that count?
3: Comedian: George Carlin
2: Dog breed: Pittie mixes, mutts, labs, medium to big short haired breeds
1: Did you answer all these truthfully? Yes I did.
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Amethyst Necklace (CIYS Sidestory) *Erik x Reader*
A feature presentation: With Love, From Wakanda (hosted by @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots ). This is my *headdesk* late *headdesk* submission. I'm steadily getting my life back, so all hope is not lost. This is based on the Crawl Into Your Sleep series (there's a time jump). Hope you all enjoy it.
“Are we on a date right now?” (Prompt #4)
Rated M (for brief mentions of violence and attempted assault)
Disclaimer: Black Panther belongs to Marvel. I don't own the other fandom that's mentioned, either.
*******
It's been ten weeks since you've crossed paths with Erik. The first few moments were random, albeit sudden - you still couldn't believe how well that first shopping trip went. The instant messages on your school D2L account, the anxious coffee shop meetup, and a fierce ride in his Mercedes-Benz to hit up the mall did things to you. For the record, his swagger switched your senses on no matter how many times you've tried to avoid it.
The way he'd given Dresden a beatdown, accompanied with his “evil twin” Adonis and fellow trainee Viktor… three versus five grimy trifles had presented a gut wrenching experience. You didn't watch the scene, but the terrifying sounds of breaking bones and curdling screams had prompted a random witness to call the cops, since your trifling ex had the audacity to confiscate your phone. Yet, he had intentions to do a gangbang train on you, so in a sense, it’s a great thing Erik and his entourage appeared on the scene before your ex’s friends had a chance to rip your jeans off at the library parking lot.
~°~°~
Erik also had a strange way of blocking thirsty traps on multiple social media accounts you own, especially Instagram and Facebook. The ladies who interfered with him, M'Baku and T'Challa were also blocked in a flash, and they came banging on your door this one fateful night. Half of them were another set of thirst traps from school; a combination of Churchians and R. Kelly sympathizers. You weren't in the mood for their bull, and proceeded to call the cops when your speed dial activated at the press of nine.
“What's going on?” Erik had asked, the racket downstairs noticeable. His voice never failed to melt you, but there were troubling matters at hand.
“Some angry ladies from school, they're at my house, armed with baseball bats and knives…”
“Okay, don't panic!” He commanded. “Remember that amethyst necklace I bought you two weeks ago?”
You've raised an eyebrow when shattered glass is heard from the living room.
“Y-yes,” you whispered.
“Put it on, and don't forget the mace!”
You did as he told. The beautiful gem hung low on your bust. “So, what difference would a necklace make?”
You could sense Erik's smirk. “Make an X with your arms.”
“An X, what for?”
“Y/N, you don't wanna die! I'm all the way on the opposite side of the city, and it’ll take me an hour to physically reach you. So do as I say, okay?”
Another glass shatter, and the door bangs are even louder and pronounced. Expletives that attacked your character were heard with more clarity.
“Do you believe in Wakanda?” Erik probed, bringing you back to focus.
“I do, but that's-”
An attempted disarming at the front door caught your attention.
“Do you believe in Wakanda, babe?”
You took a deep, albeit shaky breath.
“Yes.”
“Then make an X with your arms.”
Both arms did as he commanded. The gem on the necklace glowed and brightened your bedroom, where you're currently occupied.
“Now break it!”
You did it. Golden flashes zapped through the walls and wires of your house, and ultimately knocked your threats ten feet away from your house. As you exited your room, the voices of angry women were gone. Despite the broken window, the warm breeze engulfed your body. There were no crazy ladies in sight. The only display was a pile of bats, knives and Prada bags.
Another thing that caught your attention were the cars. Most were parked at their usual spots, but only two looked totalled, with broken windows and headlights.
“Wow,” you breathed as you processed this lovely aftermath. “All this unnecessary drama, because of social media. It doesn't make much sense, but it must be a good thing, right?” You poked the gemstone on your necklace. “This thing literally saved my life.”
~°~°~
Your phone and laptop alarmed at the same time. A message had arrived from Erik, encouraging you to change and worry about the house damage later. You've selected your favourite evening combo, along with a hat and silver hooped earrings. White tank top, a short silver jacket worn over it, followed by jaguar designed tights, a black skirt and tall black boots. Erik's car had pulled and he hopped out in an instant, surveying the aftermath of the crazies who came for you earlier.
A low whistle left his lips as you descended the staircase. You couldn't help the warmth rushing to your cheeks.
“Look who's glowing this evening!” he began as he opened the door for you.
“Thank-you,” You replied, settling in and buckling up. “So where are we headed?”
Erik entered his side of the car. “Straight to your necklace.”
You peered at it. “My necklace? Why?”
Erik started the engine and, as the car sped, he held the gem. “Just place your hand over mine.”
This is the second time he'd requested a strange favour from you. Strange in your eyes, because of the necklace. What's so special about it?
There's no such thing as magic in Wakanda.
“It will take forever to get there and back if you don't.”
You rolled your eyes as his dimples complimented his smirk.
“Or should I form an X and knock you out of here?” Your sudden confidence boost didn't go unnoticed. Erik chuckled; he liked it when life didn't weigh heavily on your well-being. It's allowed you to spread your wings. To get you out of your shell more, he’d let go of the gem and kept his eyes on the road. Meanwhile, this didn't help your curiosity.
“Well, which one is it?” You pressed. “What's so special about this necklace?”
“That is entirely up to you to decide, but there's someplace special I wanna take you to.”
You cocked an eyebrow in response, “and this is supposed to help us get there?”
“Depends on what you think. I know its location is several hours away.”
Erik's signature smirk had returned, yet this time, you've also noticed a knowing glint in his eye. You needed answers, and you’re gonna get them now.
“Are we on a date right now?”
Erik chuckled, “Of course!”
“Then why haven't we arrived? And why is this necklace so important?”
Just as Erik entered the freeway, he took your necklace and held the gem one more time.
“Just take my hand and we'll get there.”
Alright, alright. Let's see what this can do.
Without blinking, you held his hand and the scenery changed. You were no longer on the freeway in town - the roads looked more sophisticated with pebble tones. Neon lights shone brightly around the cars that drove now. You’ve also noticed that these drivers, well, the majority, were Black.
Your ride entered a bridge, and as you peeked out your window, the ocean below sparkled like stars. It's sunset time and the hues of orange, bright red, pink and fuschia accented the cascade of clouds in the sky. Birds flew across it.
Your hands rummaged through your purse for your smartphone to take photos of these beautiful sights.
Erik smiled, silently thanking Bast for granting his cousin Shuri the ability to create such technology, and for enabling this Pen Pal Program to happen.
~°~°~
Without missing a beat, you both arrived at your destination a few moments later. Krispy Kreme was the hot spot, and you've noticed multiple people walking in as well. Once the guards had verified your IDs, Erik linked your arm with his as one braided guard escorted you both to the VIP floor.
Upon entry, All the Stars by Kendrick Lamar and SZA played in the background. You both took front row seats. As Erik ordered drinks, a young lady with Bantu knots and a sparkly brown dress entered the stage and made an introduction.
“Good evening everyone, this is our Open Mic Night. Thanks for coming out! So settle in, let go of your worries, and enjoy our relaxed atmosphere. All are welcome to participate - the mic is yours. Poetry, song, storytelling, cypher… is entirely up to you.”
At the end of her introduction, your drinks arrived and a variety of performers, known and unknown to Wakanda, owned the mic. By the time the sixth performer of the night closed her song, a round of applause rolled through the atmosphere. You loved every minute of this so far. The overall vibes were cool and collected, warm and welcoming.
That’s when Erik stood and took your hand, escorting you towards the stage.
“Wha- what are you doing?” you whispered.
“It’s our turn,” he said.
Our turn?
Without hesitation, the crowd whistled and made bullet signs - a sign of respect for the Wakandan prince. A handful of young men hollered, “All hail King N'Jadaka!”
... until another set shushed them.
“So what’s your plan?” You mouthed.
“I paint, you speak.”
Well, if this isn’t nerve-wracking. But, I’m here. So here it goes...
You recalled the day your professor had graded you horribly, then the words came.
“How many more times should I feel,
Misunderstood?
How much longer before the world could hear my plea?
This forged, silent treatment had left me in chains,
Chains of choices, between the innovator and the warrior.
When can I rise? When can I fly? When will it be my turn to spark the flames of positive change?
For a brokenhearted daughter? Or the drifting, confused sister?
Where I'm from, there’s promises of empowerment...
Only to be broken and unfounded.
Then let them take credit, erase your name, your contribution, your standing,
Because your leadership is a threat.
How much longer before I can reclaim my power, spread my wings and fly?
I guess only time will tell.”
At the end of your segment, the audience snapped their fingers, whistled and offered their rounds of applause. You took a bow, and noticed Erik’s completed painting: A group of women, staring out of the jail cell, counting the stars. The bottom part of the picture featured his interpretation of what marginalization and institutional racism looked like, from your eyes.
You couldn’t help the warmth radiating your cheeks. Originally, you liked him. Admired him. Favoured him.
Tonight, you fell in love even more. He gets it.
You returned back to your seats, when your hands caught his face and your lips captured his. Thankfully, no one had noticed. The gem on your necklace formed a shield that barred others from seeing what was happening.
His tongue probed entry, and you allowed it. Although, you’ve noticed something a little unusual. Breaking the kiss, you inquired, “Is that a tongue ring?”
Erik chuckled and smacked your butt. “And what’s so important about that?”
Giggling, you added, “You’re dangerous. Now kiss me silly.”
Your lips locked again.
*******
Taglist: @ljstraightnochaser
@amethystbutterflie
@wakanda-inspired
@eriknutinthispoosy @softnani @princesskillmonger @iamrheaspeaks @muse-of-mbaku @destinio1 @airis-paris14 @blackpinup22 @bribrisback @supersizemeplz @thadelightfulone @epicyaoibamonbear @sisterwifeudaku @myareadinglist @kaytauru @phoenixgalaxy @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @rayraynddem @cancerianprincess @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jozigrrl @itsrenaemf @theogbadbitch @steampunkprincess147 @eyeknowmywrites @annastaia @mbakusmbitch @thehomierobbstark @desertfyre @unholyxcumbucket @kissmyafropuff @forbeautyandlife @lifelover4u @yoyolovesbucky @purplehairgawdess @whoawhoababywhoa @animefun16 @blowmymbackout @itreywalk @msblkfire84 @mellifluousbabe @killuzumakii @hairhattedhooligan @marvelpotterlove @hearteyes-for-killmonger @to-the-water-ixazaluoh @yaachtynoboat711 @faatassbitch
#tb514fanfics#crawl into your sleep#erik x reader#withlovefromwakanda#erik stevens#black panther fandom#black panther#black love#wlfw#erik killmonger stevens#t'challa#m'baku#hoopshoney#purple-apricots#bpwriters#amethyst necklace
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Wither | Kim Woojin
genre ⌁ dystopian, sci-fi, adventure, dystopian!au, angst, fluff, inspired by The Hunger Games!
summary ⌁ What’s left of the two Koreas is now the pit of entertainment for the rest of the world, built upon corpses, natural disasters, and lost wars - the scattered districts now fight to survive each day. When your name is plucked from the hundreds of thousands in the country, you are left no choice but to comply to your fate - either kill and win, or die trying.
word count ⌁ 3k
warning ⌁ incredibly violent w/ lots of gore, crude humor, suggestive at times, etc.
01
Check out my masterlist!
When you wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. The only visible evidence of a body having been laying there the previous night is a strewn section of the tattered sheet and a single pillow with a bit of a dent in it. An afterglow of the morning light seeps through the cracks of the wooden walls, spreading across your warm cheeks, one of which was still pressed against the pillow under your head. You prop yourself up onto an elbow, tired gaze searching for Seungmin.
You sit up begrudgingly from the stale comfort of the mattress, ignoring the small wince of pain that jolts up your spine and the distinct pop of your wrists as you push yourself up. Finally your gaze manages to focus on the span of the tiny room, the younger boy in question stood in front of a broken mirror by the foot of the bed. Clad in only a pair of shredded sweatpants, his bare back is open for the world to see. Dark scars run down his melanin skin, leaving no space for healing.
Sitting at his exposed feet is a giant beast of a dog - he insists that it’s a mixed bastard, though by the appearance of the damn things drooling canines and scratchy pelt, you still think he picked up the runt of a coyote. As if it can sense your gaze burning daggers into the boy’s back, the dog lifts its muzzle and curls its lip, showing off the cracked teeth and his lolled tongue. His green gaze meets yours, as if challenging you to approach.
Deciding not to risk pissing off the runt, you instead slide off the ancient mattress, a slight squeak from the springs making you flinch just a little. “Seungmin, you should be getting ready.”
“So should you, Y/N.” He retorts quickly, thankfully tearing his harsh stare from his shattered reflection of the dusty mirror to look you up and down. “I would say sorry for letting you sleep in, but... then I would be lying.”
“And we do not tell lies in this home, Minnie. Good on you.” You tease him lightheartedly as you go to the closet door, which has been permanently stuck to be open ever since the sliding door had jammed after an earthquake a few years back. You listen to his quiet scoff at your teasing words while you shuffle through the closet, searching for an appropriate outfit for the day’s big event. Your fingertips brush against what feels like a cardboard box near the back of the closet, which you subtly bring out.
The top is riddled with dust and grime, though you were used to the germs and murk covering just about anything in the house. Of course you couldn't help but gag a little in pure disgust at the sight of whatever god forsaken substance had rubbed onto your fingers from the lid. Still, you slide the lid off the box, only to hesitate when you see the clothing inside.
The hesitation to bring out whatever might be in the box is obvious to your brother, to which he sends you a solemn look before his cold gaze travels down to the box. It’s clear that he recognizes it by the flash of emotion in his eyes, but he doesn’t discourage you from exploring what’s inside. “It’s Amber’s dress, the one that Henry gave her before the annual ball,” the brunette explains quietly, “he gave it to me after the funeral. Said s’mthing about Amber wanting to give it to you when it got to be too small.”
Amber... god you missed her.
“I - what if Henry sees me in her dress?” You question him almost inaudibly, though you decide to go ahead and grip the material of the wool dress and slowly bring it out of its lone container. “I don’t want to bring up those memories, Minnie. You know damn well that he’s been trying to forget everything for years now.”
“Then don’t wear it. You’re the one making a big deal out of it, Y/N.” The younger retorts in a dry tone. He opts to let the room fall into strange but comfortable silence as you stare idly at the dress now dangling from your fingertips, and he follows your actions in the way of haphazardly throwing a shirt over his top half, effectively covering the scars dotting a majority of his body.
“... the dress suits you, Y/N. You’ll look beautiful - maybe a person of the opposite gender might actually give you the time of day.”
“Uh huh, like who? Kino?”
“Definitely not Kino - I mean you’d catch his attention, but I’d beat the shit outta him before he got the chance to talk to you.” Seungmin says immediately, ruffling the top of your head of hair as he walks out of the bedroom, the stinky dog following at his heels. “Hurry up and get dressed, though. Baekhyun and Chanyeol said they’d be waiting by the records hall for us.”
And then he’s gone, having let the curtain separating the bedroom from the rest of the house fall back into the entryway behind him. You look back to the wool dress sitting in the palms of your hands - the dress that belonged to your older sister all those years ago. She had always wanted you to wear her clothes, mostly the knitted dresses her love Henry had made, but when you were younger you had vehemently refused; you were a child who favored the common tattered jackets and clothes of your district rather than the better looking cloth Amber’s wealthy beau had made himself.
She had never gotten the chance to see you wearing her clothes. She never got to see how you would look in the fashion that she adored simply because they came from the man she loved. In fact, she was like you, preferring the thin cloth and ripped pants most seen hanging off the bodies of other Chester residents; but when it came to Henry, she wouldn’t hesitate to try on the dresses he designed.
With a soft sigh you start to strip yourself of the nightgown with holes in it and a ripped trim, letting it fall to the floor and coil around your bare feet. Taking the dress and sliding it over your naked body, you wonder if perhaps your sister is watching - maybe she could finally see her little sister wearing the dress she adored so much - albeit for a day of sorrow and nightmares.
Chester was known for its gloomy atmosphere and just as chilly temperatures. The older district was in the heart of South Korea, stretching from what was once known as Seoul all the way to Busan. Arguably the better option of all the accumulated districts, the cold days and nights were heaven compared to some of the nuclear fallout to the west or south. In the other districts, it was rare to find food or even proper shelter - being accepted to reside in Chester was a diamond in the rough for many families, including yours.
After the nuclear fallout between North and South Korea almost a century ago, both countries turned to dust - those who somehow survived the war unified both halves of the whole as best as they could, seeking assistance or asylum from other countries and world powers.
But the help never came - at least, not after the disease had started to spread.
It started when the United States flew out military personnel and some doctors to help rebuild or save lives. No one had been aware of it back then, but the lingering radiation that didn’t automatically kill the survivors had seeped into their cells, staining their genetic makeup somehow. Yet when those who came from the outside came in contact with those they were sent to help, their skin would blister with bubbles that popped within seconds, spraying contaminated blood and pus onto their skin. In the first twenty-four hours of recovery efforts, anyone from the outside either died or escaped back to their home countries before they became infected. What was left of the two Koreas became outcastes to the world, with no help coming in that century or the next.
And now your generation, along with every generation after that, was known as the Alien Bloods - not very creative in your opinion, or too witty; but in any case it was true. You and your brother, along with anyone else in North and South Korea, had tainted blood.
So how were any cities still alive? How did the districts come about? If no help ever came, how was it that you were even alive?
Entertainment. That was what the two countries became to the entirety of the healthy population. Apparently the economy of literally every other country had started to collapse due to the annihilation of the war, and the world powers thought it best to create something from the ashes - something that would bring in commercial success from every corner of the globe. And thus, The Radiation Games was born - stolen right from the title of an ancient novel dubbed The Hunger Games, though they switched it to be a tad bit more fitting with the nuclear situation at hand.
There were districts instead of cities or towns, and you happened to be... “lucky” enough to live in Chester district; only those who had less of the genetic mutation than the rest of the population were permitted to reside in the giant sector of the country, and your family was part of that closed circle. Chester was the hub, so to speak, of what was left of South Korea while North Korea became the black-market central, namely the district of Nixvar. Two halves of a whole indeed.
Walking out of the stone and wood block you called home, the first thing you spotted was a crowd of US soldiers, white and yellow radiation suits clinging to every inch of their bodies. They donned familiar helmets similar to that of an astronaut’s, the yellow skull signa a trademark of their line of work; being dubbed as Cybs by pretty much everyone.
“’bout time you got done changing.” Seungmin snorted in amusement, kicking himself back up from the gray wall beside the doorway once you step outside. He follows your dead gaze that pierces the suits of the Cybs, almost laughing to himself when one of the bigger ones notices your glare and quickly whips their attention back to their formation. “Come on, Baekhyun and Chanyeol will never let us live it down if we’re late.”
You nod in silence, watching as the boy sends his dog away and makes sure that it doesn’t follow the two of you into the hub - if a Cyb caught sight of an animal like that in Chester, the damn runt would be shot down without hesitation.
Seungmin leads the way, as he always has when it was Reaping day, one of his callused hands tugging gently on your own. Any sort of crowd blocking the paths into the central hub during their walk to the event split away upon seeing your brother, their gazes either admiring, fearful, or filled with burning rage.
You notice as clear as day how his grip tightens on your hand, the way he straightens his posture in front of the beady glares directed at him. Any time the two of you would leave the house it was similar to this exact situation - the other residents of Chester would watch as their past victor strolled through the district perfectly alive and well, though they wished he was six feet under.
The pair of you get to the records hall faster than expected, and of course, there are two much taller people waiting for you.
“I was wondering if you idiots would be late - hell Baekhyun took nearly an hour getting ready-”
“I did not, dipshit! I simply took careful time to make sure I looked good for the cameras; I mean, one of them might catch my youthful innocence and make me a star in the other countries!”
You laugh quietly to yourself under your breath, breaking apart from an amused Seungmin to give quick hugs to the slightly older men who you both called your friends. “I’m sure that all the cameras will be focused on you, Baek.”
The blonde makes a noise of agreement, wildly waving his hands in the air. “Aha! See Yeollie, Y/N agrees!”
“She’s humoring you, dumbass,” the tallest of your group deadpans, quirking an eyebrow in your direction, “we’ll talk more after this whole thing is over. I snuck in some deer meat from Nixvar, we can cook that and see if Jaebum finally got that old TV working.”
Everyone hums at that, picturing the cooked deer meat and an old movie at Chanyeol’s place above the White Clover Bar. Seungmin and Baekhyun walk ahead, the blonde pestering the younger boy by poking at his sides and messing with his hair.
“How was it today?” Chanyeol asks you under his breath as he walks beside you, having to glance down since you didn’t exactly come near his towering height. “I mean, with the crowds. Did everyone just...?”
“Yeah, but when don’t they?” You grumble in response, watching your little brother with diligent eyes just in case someone tried anything. Ever since Seungmin had won last year’s games it was as if the world had turned against him, all because of the way he’d done it. “Who knows, maybe they’ll be too busy watching people slaughter each other this year to care for a hot minute.”
The pink haired boy sighs at your sharp words, comfortingly resting one of his palms on your shoulder, leading you to the other two boys who’d found a clear spot in the crowd - likely since most of them had parted to make a good few feet between themselves and Seungmin. You go to stand beside your brother, Chanyeol going beside you while Baekhyun remains on the other side of the youngest.
Then you hear it - the unmistakable sound of platform boots clacking against the stone stage in front of the courthouse. Any and all conversation falls silent to the stadium as the main host finally makes his appearance, his bouncy blonde hair cut a different style than last year’s games. A couple of shiny rings curl around his thin fingers, and the young boy is donning a black skirt that swung down to his knees alongside a frilly sort of red shirt with sleeves that encased his hands like paws.
He saunters over to the microphone in the middle of the stage, tapping on it once to give it a quick test. “Ah, it’s working - good, good... in that case; welcome, welcome! As many of you know, I am Han Jisung, your favorite Radiation Games host and occasional interviewer! Today is Reaping day, where one male and one female contestant will be chosen to represent Chester in this year’s games. Now, for the ground rules: anyone is open to be chosen for the games, young or old, victor or not, it’s a fair game out here folks-”
Twelve districts, twenty-four competitors - it was as if the world powers had truly taken the concept from The Hunger Games and made it their own, in a way. How... admirable.
“Now, let’s start with the ladies!” Jisung hums brightly, leaning over to pick a single slip of paper from the giant glass bowl. He shuffles around for a moment, his tongue poking out from between his lips until he finally picks a name. Slowly, he unfolds the paper, and for a split second you can see the look of surprise and guilt flashing across his face. “O-oh! It looks as if the Reaping is becoming a fam-family tradition!”
“Y/N Y/L/N, please come forward!”
No. This couldn’t be happening.
You were supposed to leave with Seungmin, Baekhyun, and Chanyeol. You were supposed to go have fun with your brother and best friends, eating deer meat and watching shitty movies all night while those who hadn’t fallen victim to the reaping partied in the bar below Chanyeol’s block.
You weren’t supposed to be picked.
“M-miss Y/N, please hurry along now-”
“NO!” Seungmin screams from beside you, blocking the incoming Cybs from being able to reach you. His voice cracks as he shouts curses at everyone, going as far as to nearly lunge at a Cyb that tries to pull him away from your frozen body. “You fucking bastards already took Amber away from me, you’re not going to take my only other sister! I’ll fucking slaughter all of you dirty rats-”
Baekhyun somehow manages to pull the furious boy away, though his eyes are wide in shock, too. Chanyeol gently pushes you forward to the waiting Cybs, but not before giving you a tight squeeze of reassurance. He’s saying goodbye.
You let the men and women wearing radiation suits escort you to the front stage. You watch yourself on the screen above the stage as your feet subconsciously carry you to stand beside the waiting host.
“-moving right along, let’s pick from the gentleman!”
Who would take care of Seungmin? Sure he insisted that he would be just fine by himself most times, but he was still a kid in your eyes; though you supposed Baekhyun and Chanyeol would make sure to keep an eye on him in your place.
“Byun Baekhyun, please come forward!”
Another cry of outrage comes from Seungmin, and you're positive that you’ve let out a small noise of disbelief. For some reason, you torture yourself by watching as one of the men you called your best friend determinedly walks onto the stage, watching as his chest begins to rise and fall in waves of panic. Baekhyun shouldn’t be up here - you shouldn't be up here, waiting until you were forced to fight for your lives in an arena.
“... no volunteers? Well then - give a warm round of applause to your contestants from Chester; Y/N Y/L/N and Byun Baekhyun! May the odds be ever in your favor!”
From the looks of things, it was as if the odds were never in your favor.
#skzwriters#stray kids#stray kids au#stray kids fic#stray kids scenario#stray kids drabble#stray kids imagine#kim woojin#woojin scenario#woojin imagine#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff
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It’s All in the Timing
Written For: @firaemsen
Written By: @earthshake
Pairing: Harry/OFC
Word Count: 5,000
Warnings: Language
Summary:
Harry and Nora were strangers, and sometimes Harry thinks it would have been better for everyone involved if they would have stayed that way.
A story about when two people are right, but the timing is wrong.
Micah is running late.
It isn’t that big of a deal, or at least it wouldn’t have been if Nora weren’t already running twenty minutes early. She bought herself a glass of wine to pass the time, but after forty-five minutes of sitting alone she’s finished two glasses and half an appetizer. She’s texted Micah twice, but he hasn’t replied.
The restaurant they’ve agreed to meet at was recently opened, one of those typical Los Angeles up-and-coming places with expensive dishes, organic produce, and twinkling lights. It had been practically impossible to get a reservation; Nora had put their names in three weeks ago, and this was the earliest slot they had open. She can’t believe Micah would bail on her tonight.
She is about to call him when somebody else slides into the booth across from her. He wears a confident smile, extending one of his long arms across the take to shake her hand.
“I’m Harry,” he says.
“Hi.” She blinks at him. “I’m Nora.”
“I like your headband. I noticed you instantly.” He nods at the green and gold scarf tied across her forehead. Nora sets her phone down on the table, feeling a little more comfortable in front of cute guy under the impression that he’s probably gay.
“Your date finally showed up,” the waitress says, pulling out her notebook and turning to Harry. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’ll have a glass of whatever she’s drinking, that you,” he says before she can find a way to explain that he’s not her date, they aren’t sitting together. Nora picks up her phone again, noting that Micah is now over a half hour late. From previous experience she can assume he’s not coming, and so she decides not to tell Harry that she’s meeting someone.
“So what brings you here tonight?” She asks.
Harry grins boastfully. “My sister is dating the owner. She pulled a couple strings.”
“Impressive. I was on the waiting list for what felt like forever. Do you want some Avocado Bruschetta?” Nora pushes the plate towards the center of the table, and Harry gratefully takes up her offer. Nora notices a few tattoos on his fingers and up his forearms. He’s wearing long sleeves with the cuffs unbuttoned, draping over his wrists. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone as well, revealing even more ink and reinforcing the notion that he is definitely, totally gay.
“So tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?” Harry asks after he’s finished chewing.
“I’m an aspiring actress in LA, the ultimate cliché,” Nora admits.
“Me too,” Harry says with a laugh. “But so far all I’ve been in is hair product commercials.”
“You do have lovely hair,” Nora compliments. He has dark curls that roll over his ears and down to his chin. He pushes them back with one hand, purposefully showing off.
“Thank you, it is quite literally my claim to fame.”
Nora laughs. “What’s your dream role?”
“War movie. Easy. I want to be the next Matt Damon.”
“Saving Private Ryan?”
Harry nods.
“I have to be honest, you don’t really look like you’ve been to war,” Nora says.
“That’s why they call it acting, Natalie.”
“Um, it’s Nora, actually.”
“Shit, sorry! ” Harry looks embarrassed, but Nora isn’t offended. She doesn’t actually remember giving him her name in the first place. “Okay Nora, what is your dream role?”
Nora has to think about her answer for a few moments. She’s been auditioning aimlessly for about a year now, trying to ignore Micah’s reminders about how unlikely it was she’d ever be successful, how she’d be better off going back to school. It came from a place of love and concern for her, it was always made Nora feel like a special kind of failure. At this point Nora would take any role she was given, at almost any cost.
“I guess I don’t really have a dream role as much as I do a couple directors I’d really like to work with. Ron Howard is at the top of the list. Frost/Nixon is my favorite movie.”
“Of all the movies to choose from, that one is your favorite?” Harry asks.
Nora shrugs. “I’m also a history buff.”
Harry and Nora enjoy an expensive, but exquisite dinner together, discussing their favorite movies and sharing audition horror stories. The food is delicious, living up to every review Nora had read. The company is even better, so much so that Nora doesn’t even bother to check her phone for Micah’s probably work-related excuse.
“I’m so full,” Harry complains when they finish, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his stomach. “How would you feel about taking a nice walk around the block to help the digestive process?”
Nora agrees, and it’s during this walk that Harry tries to kiss her.
“What are you doing? I thought you were gay!” Nora blurts.
“Excuse me?” Harry scowls. “If I were gay, why would I go on a blind date with a girl?”
“Huh? This isn’t—I’m not---“ Nora sighs. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I have a boyfriend.”
“Then why did Niall set me up with you?”
“Who is Niall?”
Harry steps back, face red with realization. He runs another hand through his curls, this time pushing them forehead to cover more of his face. He eyes a homeless person across the street warily before saying, “Niall is my roommate. He set me up with one of his co-workers. I told her to meet me at La Verne’s wearing something green and gold.”
“The Packers are my favorite football team,” Nora says lamely.
Harry scoffs. “Mine too. Figures. I finally meet a girl I like and she’s taken.”
Nora’s cheeks turn a soft pink.
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Harry says with a sigh. “And don’t worry, there are other fish in the sea.”
“I did think it was weird when you, a total stranger, just sat right across from me. I should have said something. You’ve probably ruined some poor girl’s night now by standing her up.” Nora has been there enough time to not wish the same fate on even her worst enemy.
“What about you? Were you just out to dinner by yourself?” Harry asks.
Nora hesitates. “I was waiting for someone, but…he didn’t show up.”
“Your boyfriend?”
Nora’s silence answers his question.
Despite her relationship status, Harry has trouble not thinking about Nora for the next few weeks. He grows more and more annoyed as the days go by, wondering how it’s possible that a girl who seemed so confident would put up with getting stood up by a guy. If Nora had been single, and agreed to go out with him again, he would’ve never pulled a stunt like that.
It turned out that Niall had forgotten to pass along the message to meet Harry to his co-worker, which at least meant she didn’t think he was an asshole. They make plans to meet up next Friday, this time after exchanging numbers to ensure no more mishaps were had. Before the date Harry does his best to push Nora out of his mind.
Niall’s co-worker is named Natalie, which Harry makes an effort to cement in his brain. He lets her pick the restaurant, having previously used his one impressive first date idea. Instead of dinner she suggests they go ice-skating, which Harry agrees to even when Niall warns him he’s going to make himself look like a fool. Harry hasn’t skated since grade school, and even then he wasn’t very good.
Natalie turns out to be an extremely talented skater; she laps Harry twice before slowing down to his speed. She takes the time to correct his form, holding his hand to keep him from falling as they start going faster. He makes it around at least a dozen times before getting too ambitious, spraining his ankle after attempting a jump.
“I’m so sorry, this is the worst first date ever,” Harry gushes in the emergency room, thinking he should have listened to Niall until Natalie laughs and kisses him hard on the mouth.
They go on one more date to Catalina Island before Harry asks her to be his girlfriend. They’ve been together four months when Harry lands his first lead role. It’s a romantic comedy, which is exactly the opposite direction he wanted to go in as an actor, but he’ll take what he can get. If Ryan Gosling can star in romantic comedies and action films, so can he.
Harry is cast before the female lead, and so he spends much of his next few weeks reading lines with potentials, testing their chemistry. Harry is excited it’s all he can talk about, and he thought Natalie was excited too until she tries to pick a fight with him in the middle of his living room, during the Super bowl.
“You didn’t tell me there was a sex scene,” she snaps after walking back from the bathroom and into a conversation about it. Harry had neglected to mention this piece of information on purpose, just until he could find the right way to say it, but then Niall had brought it up after enjoying a particularly raunchy commercial.
“It’s just one. It’s not a big deal,” Harry says.
“It is to me! How could you accept a role like that without discussing it with me first?” Natalie stands in front of the television, blocking the two of them from seeing what is undoubtedly an unbelievable touchdown.
“Get out of the way, Nat. Go fight somewhere else,” Niall says.
“How naked do you have to be in front of her?” Natalie demands.
Harry prefers to plead the fifth.
They’re up until three in the morning arguing, and the next day at work Harry is exhausted. He has another chemistry test first thing, and before it begins he locks himself in the bathroom for ten minutes, trying to get himself into character. He can’t seem to get the dead expression out of his eyes, and he keeps fumbling over his lines like there’s taffy stuck to the top of his mouth.
Harry picks up coffee from the cart on the way to set, burns his tongue on the first sip, and receives a scolding from the director about being late. He keeps his eyes glued to the floor or his script as he sits in his designated chair, waiting for the cue to begin.
“Wow, Stephen, I-“ The girl opposite him clears her throat and Harry looks up into Nora’s sea foam green eyes. “For a second there even I believed you were in love with me.”
Harry swallows, his head swimming with last night’s accusations. He waits a beat longer than he’s supposed to recite his next lines, his voice cracking over the words, “Me too.”
Nora glances at the front of the room, bites her lip, and then turns back to him. “Harmony looks really jealous,” she says.
“I don’t care,” Harry says. “I’m not pretending anymore.”
“But Stephen, that’s not fair! I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to, and now that you finally have what you want you can’t hold up your end of the deal?”
Harry gets off his chair, which is something he hasn’t done before during this scene, and walks over to Nora’s chair. He touches her lips with his thumb, and then brushes a strand of sandy hair over her ear.
“I can’t pretend to be with you anymore, Lyla, because it isn’t pretending for me anymore. It’s real, more real than anything I ever had with Harmony.” He leans down to kiss her lips that taste a mixture of vanilla and mint, his eyes falling shut until he hears the words Cut.
He pulls away, blinking.
“We’ll be in touch,” the one of the casting directors says to Nora.
“Bye Harry,” she says to him quiet enough so that he’s the only one to hear.
Her stomach is a field of butterflies as she sits in her car, trying to replay every second of the audition. It was her second one; her agent told her they were between her and a handful of other girls, and that she shouldn’t get her hopes up, but she couldn’t help herself. She’d been so shocked to see Harry wander in from the hall, but the shock had given way to joy. It was fate that they’d met that first night at La Verne, and it could only be fate that now they’d show up at the same audition. She hoped that even though she’d turned him down, he would at least speak highly of her with the casting agents. She’d told him how important her career was to her. He understood how big of a break this movie could be for her. For both of them.
Harry doesn’t let her down. She gets the call two days later that she’s gotten the part. She had more chemistry with Harry than any of the other girls they’d tested. Nora has a dance party in the living room with Michelle, her best friend. She wishes she had Harry’s number so she could text him thank you.
“I had nothing to do with it. They didn’t even ask for my opinion,” Harry confesses when she thanks him in person, after they’re first read-through of the full script. They’d both lingered in the conference room until everyone else had left, nervously approaching each other as if for the first time.
“Well, it’s really good to see you again,” Nora says, her skin warm.
“Do you want to go do something?” Harry asks despite himself.
Nora’s butterflies return.
Their first stop is the movie theatre, an activity they’d both discussed doing together back when Harry thought Nora was single and she thought he was gay. They share a large popcorn in the back of the theatre, gushing over particularly well-done scenes and impressive cinematography. It’s the first time Nora’s spent with a guy that wasn’t related to her since she and Micah broke up three weeks ago.
“He said he needed to focus on himself. He’s in med school, so he was always stressing about tests and his internship. He had to pick up an extra shift that night we met, that’s why he wasn’t there. I can’t really blame him for going after his dreams, can I?”
Nora shares this over ice cream on the beach. They’re walking barefoot in the sand, slowing inching towards the waves while the sun sets over the horizon. The sky is free of clouds, a true California sunset full of pinks, oranges, and reds. Filming hasn’t even started, and Nora already feels like she’s in a romance movie.
“How long had you been together?” Harry asks.
“Five and a half months,” Nora answers.
Harry kind of hates himself for thinking it, but no, she can’t blame him for going after his dreams. Harry is in the same situation with his own girlfriend, after all. She’s barely kissed him since she found out about the sex scene, and instead they spend all their time talking.
The weird thing is, Harry used to love spending all day talking to Natalie. He liked listening to her share stupid stories of stuff that happened at work (especially when it involved Niall). He liked that they could talk sports for hours, and that she made him laugh even when the serious stuff would come up.
Now they just bicker, and she nags, and Harry feels guilty every time he comes home from work, especially those times when he kisses Nora and likes it a little too much. He starts thinking maybe Nora’s ex did the right thing by breaking up with her, being honest instead of stringing her along. He doesn’t want to be too hasty, though, so first he asks Niall’s opinion.
“Aw, fuck man. You’re gonna make it awkward in the office again,” he says.
“Fucking hell, why’d you set me up with her then?” Harry asks.
“I thought you guys could at least last long enough for me to get promoted. Then I wouldn’t have to see her everyday. I hope she doesn’t cry at work.”
“Okay, but does that mean you think I should break up with her?”
“To be clear, you want to dump her for this Nora chick, right?”
Harry hesitates. “When you put it like that…”
“Dude, either Nora is the one or you’re getting caught up in the whole romance movie bullshit, in which case Natalie has a pretty good reason to be pissed at you all the time. I’d say either way you and Natalie are fucked.”
Harry goes to bed thinking it’s decided, and when he wakes up he sticks to his decision, texting Natalie to meet him for coffee after work. He arrives before she does at their favorite local place with the outdoor seating and mugs with quirky phrases on then. He orders her favorite, a vanilla latte, and sits in the same spot they always sit at, waiting.
Natalie shows up apologetically late, after her coffee has turned luke-warm. She kisses him before sitting down, looking flustered and stressed from her own workday (she’s the manager of an Urban Outfitters), and says, “God, this week has been terrible, I don’t know what it is about people…Anyway, I’ve missed you.”
And Harry can’t do it. He doesn’t know what he was thinking trying to break up with the best girl he’s ever had, for a girl he barely knows? He’s been with Natalie for almost half a year now, and this is the first they’ve fought. And it sort of made him freak out.
So Harry apologizes for not being honest about the sex scene, and Natalie for making it a big deal. He says he understands why she was upset (Niall had a point), and she says she understands why he can’t turn down the job. She says she’s really, really happy, and proud of him, and by the time he’s finishing reliving every detail of filming their coffees are cold.
“It sounds amazing, baby. When can I come visit?” Natalie asks, the wind blowing through her sun-kissed hair.
“Um. Yeah, maybe sometime after work next week. I’m sure everyone would love to meet you,” Harry says, but feels weird about doing so.
It’s just as weird when Natalie actually does show up, and he has to introduce her to Nora, who is hoping he doesn’t notice the expression on her face finding out Harry even has a girlfriend.
“I feel so pissed at myself. Harry and I, we really clicked, but I was so hung up over Micah and he treated me like shit…Harry is cute and nice and funny. Of course he has a girlfriend. Of course she’s also cute and nice and funny. I feel like an idiot,” Nora tells Michelle that night over Chinese take-out.
Michelle tugs at the ends of her dark hair, weaved together in a braid that falls at her shoulder. “The timing was off,” she says.
Nora nods. She resolves to forget there was anything more between them than friendship. It’s the truth, which she thinks should make it easier, but it doesn’t when they’re supposed to be pretending they’re in love all the time. Nora is starting to lose track of where she and Harry end and Lyla and Stephen begin.
After filming Harry still asks her on little dates, just the two of them, where they sit so close on a park bench that she can feel the heat off his body and he still smiles at her the same way he did the first night they met. He tells her all about his family-a mom who taught him everything he knows, two dads who don’t get along, and a sister he wishes he saw more. She tells him how being an only child always made her lonely, which is part of the reason she thinks she let her friends (and boyfriends) treat her badly.
“In high school I was asked to prom by a guy my best friend liked, and so she made hate accounts about me on Instragram and Twitter. She said all this stuff about me that wasn’t true, and got the rest of our friends to comment and say stuff too. I was so…” Nora shakes her head, averting her eyes. “And then when she took it I was so relieved to be her friend again. We just pretended it never happened and hated on the guy instead.”
“People are fucking assholes,” Harry says with a scowl.
They make a habit of never going to the same place twice, maybe to give off the impression that this is still a one-off, just two co-workers getting to know each other. Nora doesn’t mind at all, though. She’s from Colorado, born and raised in a town she knew like the back of her hand. Even after almost two years of living in LA she still feels like she’s exploring new territory, like the city is a giant playground.
The weather is warm, the beach is never more than a half an hour away, and Nora’s gained five pounds from all the specialty food, but it’s one of the best summers she can remember. She’s finally getting paid to do the thing she loves, and when she’s not doing that she exploring a city she loves, or spending time with people she loves—Harry included, maybe.
The last day of filming feels bittersweet, a mixture of accomplishment and disbelief. Nora walks outside into the sunlight, trying to wrap her head around maybe not ever going back in. She’s terrified of the movie flopping, of the bad reviews she’ll have to read if the critics think she’s a bad actress, or even worse if no critics have any opinions at all. What if no one sees it?
Harry doesn’t seem to care about any of this, of course. He’s excited about the cast party later that night, and for all the people he hopes to be interviewed by. Nora can’t bear to burden him with the anxiety.
They both have some time off before promo begins, which Nora uses to visit her mom. It too is a bittersweet experience, the joy of seeing each other clouded by the tension of her mother never wanting Nora to move away in the first place, and the guilt she feels for doing it anyway.
When Nora gets back to LA she and Harry have a meeting with Allie from marketing. We’re in one of the conference rooms without windows, seated at a round table with a phone in the middle. She goes over our schedules for the next couple of weeks, pointing out events of significance, of which there are few. The schedule is light, even for an indie romance with two completely fresh faces.
“I wanted to throw an idea out there,” Allie says in a voice that is misleadingly casual. “The promotional team thinks it would really benefit the film if the people could see you together in real life as much as possible.”
“When you say together…?” Harry says.
“Just let a photographer catch you holding hands every once in a while. If somebody asks you about it you don’t even have to say anything. It’s good to give the people a little mystery. We’ll go from there.”
The first thing Harry thinks is that Natalie is going to kill him.
Still, he doesn’t totally hate the idea.
He looks at Nora, a wary smile on his face. She hesitates before offering him a tiny nod. They agree to a date a few days after their first interview, during which they will be photographed for the tabloids.
Nora feels like she’s now fully transformed into a stereotype, but she doesn’t hate the idea either. Nor the execution.
Harry doesn’t make the same mistake twice, so he tells Natalie about the arrangement the day before the first photos will be released. She isn’t as mad as he expected.
“I kind of figured this would happen,” she admits.
“Am I that much of a cliché?” He asks.
Natalie laughs and Harry’s heart skips a beat.
But even though Natalie is totally cool with him pretending to date somebody else, Harry still feels guilty about being with Nora. He has a love-hate relationship with holding her hand, and when he’s not thinking about that he’s thinking about how easy it would be to kiss her. It’s not sustainable.
He’s got to pull himself together. It isn’t fair to Natalie. Maybe not to Nora either.
Harry swings in limo until opening night, the accumulation of all their hard work finally coming together in one two hour experience. Nora wears a simple, slinky little thing that matches the color of her eyes, her hair pulled up in an up do looks to Harry like a maze. Their fingers are laced together while they walk the red carpet, smiling blindly at the cameras.
Nora’s stomach is in butterflies, the way it has been for weeks now it seems. She’s let the pretending go to her head a bit, which she tells herself is fine for now, at least through tonight. She’s acutely aware of Harry’s actual girlfriend coming in somewhere behind them, under the premise of Niall’s date.
They sit in the best seats in the house, and Nora loves seeing them on camera together. The chemistry they had at that first audition is magnified on the big screen, and Nora feels herself fall for Harry all over again when she gets to really see the way he looks at her. It’s not just the lights or the background music; you can’t fake or fabricate a look like that. Nora knows because he’s giving her that same look in real life when the movie is over.
There is a lot of schmoozing to be done after the film finishes, and Nora momentary forgets about Harry in the mist of exchanging compliments with the other guests. Aside from what she’s developed with him, she’s also riding the high of starring in her first film. She tries her best to dazzle the critics and interviewers, reciting all the lines her agent had told her to say.
It isn’t until the middle of the after-party that Nora finally gets the chance to ask Harry for a moment alone. She makes sure Natalie is nowhere in sight, finds him chatting up one of the musicians, and steals him out the back door, where a couple of kitchen staff are taking their breaks. Thankfully they don’t seem too interested in eavesdropping.
“I just needed a moment, you know. It’s a little overwhelming,” Nora says, wiping the under of her eyes from the eyeliner that’s certainly smudged there.
“Very surreal,” Harry agrees, all dimples.
“I’m sort of sad it’s over, though.”
“It’s not over yet. We still have to read reviews and get the box office numbers. And I think there are a few more interviews too.” Harry pulls out his phone to check.
Nora swallows the lump in her throat. “Yeah, but it won’t be the same. I won’t get to see you everyday like we used to.”
Harry looks up, a strange expression coming over his face.
“Harry, I have to ask...if I don’t I’m afraid I’m going to regret it later. Filming this movie with you has been one of the best things to ever happen to me, and it’s not just because of the movie. It’s because of you, and I just wanted to know if there was any possibility-I know you have a girlfriend, but-“ Nora sighs, her words getting all tangled.
Harry steps back, unreadable “Nora.” It sounds like an apology.
“Oh,” Nora breathes. “Okay.”
“Wait—“ Harry panics, grabbing her hand. “I wasn’t ready to have this conversation tonight.”
It’s the moment of the truth, the decision he’s been putting off ever since Nora walked into the audition room. And even when she lays it all on the table for him, deciding still feels impossible.
“Nora, I’m sorry. We’re friends. And it’s not that I haven’t felt...things for you. But it’s not the same as what I feel for Natalie, and I can’t do this to her. I’m sorry. I like you, I do, but…the timing is off.”
“Okay,” Nora says. She doesn’t think she has a right to be mad.
“Let’s go back inside?” Harry suggests, and so they do. And in the moment, Nora feels like it’s one of the worst things to ever happen to her. It makes her feel sick inside the rest of the night, so much that she and Michelle leave the party early without telling anyone goodbye.
Three months later she and Harry officially break up, and it is apparently very messy. (It isn’t actually anything, just a string of unconfirmed rumors). It’s for the best that Harry and Nora lose tough as well after that, and eventually Nora breaks her phone and really does lose his number.
She starts dating around again, but none of them really stick, and so when Nora does meet Harry again she’s been happily single for about a year. They run into each other in the grocery store of all places, which feels like an even more specular meeting place than La Verne. He’s cut his hair since she’s seen him last, and so she almost doesn’t recognize him at first.
Nora doesn’t ask if he’s still with Natalie. Instead they talk about their recent projects and the weather, almost as if strangers again. They exchange numbers for the second time, but Nora doesn’t hear from him for another three weeks. He asks her to meet him at the Santa Monica pier.
And then, finally, with salt in their hair and sand in their toes, the timing is right.
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but the stars were going out
[AO3] [FFN]
“She was a girl made of shattered stars, but the stars were burning out; and he was the night, left blank and bare.” - @danwilds
Thoughts on how Hisana and Byakuya came to be, and then fell apart. They were something sad, and beautiful, and tragic. A red string does not always guarantee a happy ending.
For @cooliogirl101 Even though Hisana wound up sounding a little like a mob boss.
She was a girl made of shattered stars,’
…
Hisana is not a good person.
Maybe she could be great one day, but she will never call herself good.
She is ten years old when she dies, her baby sister held close. She is ten years old when she first sets eyes on the seventy-eighth district of the rukongai, Rukia clutched to her chest.
She is fifteen years old when she loses all hope, and leaves her sister behind in the empty vacant streets.
She is nineteen when she begins to claw for something more than just existing.
She is thirty-something when she begins to succeed.
But she had been sixteen-and-a-day when she swore that one day she would find her baby sister and apologize.
…
‘with fire in her veins;’
…
She fights and claws her way out of the lesser districts, determined to do more than just survive.
She learns to step on people to get where she wants to go, and not apologize.
She learns to be cunning. Learns to be clever.
She tames people to her will, and scatters her little birds throughout the rukongai.
And when she has done all this, then she has to learn how to be kind again.
Somewhere along the way, she had forgotten how to be kind. But she did not forget her promise.
Her ears are open for whispers of her sister, but the whispers do not come, no matter how far her little birds fly.
…
‘She shined brighter,’
…
She shines brightly.
But it is a cold light, masked carefully and hidden away.
It's not the sort of brightness fueled by kindness, but a steely sense of determination that refuses to burn out and fade away.
It's the kind of brightness that creates the shadows you so carefully avoid.
In this, brightness is a polite term for noticeable.
And oh, she is noticed.
…
‘than anyone could.’
…
It takes a special kind of person to build from the ground up without involving the yakuza.
There’s just something about her; it echoes in the air around her, and there is something underlying in her firm gaze. Calm, but unyielding.
Girls like her have lightning in their souls and chaos in their bones.
…
…
‘He was a lost boy with hollow eyes,’
…
For all that he knows his place in the world – future head of the Kuchki, future Captain of the Sixth, future warrior and master, soldier and father – Byakuya is lost.
He’s been lost since his parents died.
Lost because while his future seems to be set in stone, his life written out for him by the clan, he doesn’t know what it means to be just Byakuya.
Like the lights are on, but this house is not a home.
…
‘He was the night;’
…
He is calm, and he is careful. He is also poised, regal, charming and deviously dangerous.
He passes through his training with a single-minded determination, determination to succeed.
He is driven – more so than the freezing snow, or lashing sandstorm.
This alienates him from his peers. Where they joke and laugh, and pace themselves, he breezes on ahead, so eager to leave the last remnants of his childhood (even when he is an adult already) in the past.
He blends into the shadows, quiet and unseen, yet always waiting, always there, eyes and ears open to the world.
…
‘Dark,’
…
It’s a lonely existence, being set apart from the crowd.
But he cannot afford to hand out his affection like leaves on the breeze; not when every smiling face seeking favour could be hiding a knife in the dark.
The Academy days’ pass by in the blink of an eye, and he begins the long climb to the top; heading the words that his Grandfather told him so long ago.
…
‘but filled with stars.’
…
It is not completely without it’s perks.
There are bright patches here and there; if he is careful to edge his way around the twisting rotten roots of old-world politics.
And then, one day, the brightest star of all practically falls right into his lap.
…
…
‘They were bare legs,’
…
How they met did not matter.
How they fell in love cannot be explained.
Two such very different people, but perhaps she set his soul alight? Perhaps she blazed bright enough for the both of them? It had to have been something special for worlds like theirs to collide.
Or perhaps it was something as ordinary as can be.
We are all stories in our own right. Unprinted, unbound; just wild words dancing on the winds of time. Theirs was not written down, and so we will never know.
But it was special. Because it was theirs.
…
‘entangled in dirty bedsheets;’
…
It was not proper for a noble to marry a commoner. Not proper for a man with such standing as Byakuya to turn away every eligible young lady in the seireitei and set his cap at a girl like Hisana. But he did it anyway, saw something in her that nobody else could see.
Anybody with a brain should have seen this coming, for all his icy exterior, he was (grudging) friends with the Shihouin empress – the flash goddess Yoruichi. For all his cold stares and frigid words, his zanpakuto was a shimmering example of beauty bound up in a deadly dance. For all his birth and breeding, he had the heart of a poet and the soul of a romantic.
How could he not defy all, and shatter the rules for a girl like Hisana.
…
(they chose each other.)
…
He chose her, and she chose him.
Was that all that should be needed, for them to be husband and wife?
One might think so.
A red string might have bound their fates together, a blessing from the Gods.
But the Gods have no power over free will, or self-destruction.
And even fate, embroidered with delicate red, cannot guarantee a happy ending.
…
…
‘She was a girl made of shattered stars,’
…
Hisana is bright and alive. She refuses to be stagnant like the noble clans, who can wait patiently, play out games of politics while the universe passed them by.
She is vibrant in her own way, incapable of sitting still.
There is a gentleness to her, one that was learnt, it did not come to her naturally.
Or perhaps it had once, before life had taken that from her?
There is a titanium spine, and an iron will hidden beneath her smile too.
She burns so fiercely, and searches relentlessly. She never says what for. But she is a girl a woman on a mission.
[He worries sometimes, that she will work too hard and burn herself out.
He did not think it would be so literal though.]
…
‘but the stars were burning out;’
…
It starts with an extra hour in bed every morning. Before she had been up with the sun, but she was tired these days. Long nights, longer days. Desperate longing, the confusion and grief and self-hate that had taken root in her soul was destroying her.
Souls are delicate things; tough and resilient and near impossible to truly break, but delicate all the same. They were not designed to be at war with themselves.
And Hisana is fighting a losing battle.
…
‘And he was the night,’
…
His love is not enough to save her, and oh how that burned. How that stung.
Why was it not enough?
[“I'm sorry for being so dependent on you even in the end.” She says, and he wants to protest. She has never been a burden; her illness is not something she can help. The illness saps her spark away, leaving an echo of the woman he loves.
“I'm sorry for not being able... to return the love that you've given me whole-heartedly.” She tells him, and he wants to protest. He’s seen the love she shows.
It’s in the soft smile she gives him in the mornings, it’s in the movement of her arm when she pours tea for him on a winter’s night. It’s in the sound of her footsteps as she approaches him with a blanket when he’s been up late working on paperwork.
“The five years in which I spent with you... were like a dream... Byakuya-sama...”
‘Don’t leave me,’ he wants to beg.]
Why couldn’t she have asked for help? He would have done anything she could have asked.
But she did not ask, not until she breathed her last breath. A whispered plea, as the tiny spark inside her flickered in the wind, and then could not last any longer.
And then he was alone.
…
‘left blank and bare…’
…
What was the point in anything, when Hisana’s body dissolves into reishi? Because for all that he had loved her, really and deeply truly loved her with a fire he had not thought to possess; she could not allow herself to return that love. Had thought she did not deserve something like that.
What a silly woman she had been.
Had. The thought chokes the breath in his throat.
Everybody deserves to be loved, at least once in their lives.
And so, decades later, he walks through the halls of the Academy on an errand and passes by a girl who looks so much like his beloved.
If he were an ordinary man, perhaps, he might have been a storm of thoughts and emotions – all coming together like lightning and thunder and waves twisted into a tempest and locked away in an ornamental tea pot.
But Byakuya is a law unto himself, and he soldiers on with a relentlessness bordering on dangerous.
And then the next morning, he sets out to adopt his beloved’s little sister for his own.
Rukia – Rukia who dances through her zanjutsu kata with a serene grace, Rukia who was raised in the rukongai as a peasant – becomes a Kuchiki, and Byakuya wonders if Hisana would have been happy.
…
…
[Unseen by mortal eyes, the red string wrapped about his wrist does not flutter listlessly, but waits patiently, as strong and bright as ever, for his soul to collide with hers once more.
Silly Shinigami, Fate sighs. Whoever said that death was the end?
It is not. They will meet again, will write their own destiny once more.
Maybe they will learn from their mistakes. Maybe then, they will get it right.]
Notes
I used to hate Hisana. Her last words were so cruel (in my opinion). But Coolio101 made me think.
And I wonder... maybe Hisana thought she didn't deserve Byakuya's love. Maybe she heard the whispers and saw the glares, and just didn't have the strength anymore to ignore them. Maybe she wanted him to hate her so he would move on and find love again. Maybe she didn’t want him to mourn her for the rest of his life.
The truth is, I don't know. All I know is he loved her. And that's enough for me.
Love isn't always fair. It's not always beautiful. It doesn't guarantee a happy ending.
But it's ours. It's human. It's imperfect. It's the soft smile when you say goodbye, it's having the kettle on the second somebody is through the door, it's putting a blanket over someone's shoulders… it's letting them fight their own battles, and wrap their own bandages. Love is a thousand different indescribable things, unique to its owner.
#but the stars were going out#Bleach#Bleachfic#Hisana#Byakuya#Sad beautiful tragic#Red strings of fate don't mean it's a happy ending#It's not a happy ending
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4/10: Geek Out!
Pretty much half of April I spent outside of school—outside of Seattle, for that matter. I just spent a week away because of the AFS trip and right the week after that was spring break, and Karen and Eric got a major scheme planned precisely for the next week.
I only got one day after I got back from AFS trip to be spent in Seattle, before flying away again. And thanks to destiny and luck, Sunday is the last day of the thing I put on the top 10 of my exchange wish list: a comic convention.
Another reason to be grateful to be placed in a big city like Seattle. On my second visit to the comic book store near Seattle Central in the past, I asked the comic book store guy about any comic cons. He told me there was gonna be one here in Seattle, called Emerald City Comic Con. And he said it was quite famous, although, obviously, not as famous as the San Diego one.
Emerald City Comic Con was held from April 7-10. I nearly had a heart attack when I checked the guest list and found out that Danielle Panabaker (The Flash) was gonna be there. I would be depressed if I didn’t go. I also found out that my AFS trip was from April 2-9, thinking that I might fly home on the tenth, but I didn’t. It was a close call.
Next problem: someone to go with.
I wouldn’t mind going alone, but it will be much less lonely if I go with someone. I tried contacting my fellow Indonesian exchange students from all over Washington and even Oregon, but to no avail. Desperate, I did something I have never done before: literally put a desperate request for anyone to go with me. Like, anyone.
Ended up going with Gretar. Yaay. Turned out he had someone he was dying to see too. Booked the tickets for Sunday only, and got the pass shipped a couple weeks before the event.
So I have told you the story of my camera getting wet in Washington DC. The thing seemed to run out of battery just before I left for Comic Con, so I charged it for like five minutes. And it sure as shit did only work for five minutes before it died mysteriously. I only took one freaking picture of Washington State Convention Center, and now I had to carry this heavy not-working thing around. Uggggh.
So this is what a comic con looks like. An ocean of eccentric-dressing people as expected. A lot of Deadpools, jacked up ones and potbellied ones. Several Ms. Marvels. Some Batmen. Many over-the-top video games and Japanese anime characters. Lots of sexified characters, don’t matter if the characters were sexy or not in the first place. Saw a couple of real-life robotically moving R2D2. Many Reys. A couple Darth Vaders. One really pretty Princess Bubblegum (or whoever her name is, if I’m mistaken with her name). But of course, there were also a lot of people who are too lazy to dress up, like me. Having a t-shirt with four Deadpool faces on it definitely wasn’t a costume, but it was enough to express fashion contribution to the convention.
I also just discovered that a comic con was not merely a big room of exhibitions and souvenir stores. There was a whole big room for the guests autographing and photo-op, a whole floor for stores and online shops to sell comic books and shirts and action figures. The rest of the smaller rooms were used for talk sessions, like fandom meet-ups, comic-making classes, or discussions about different topics in comic books in particular or in general. The bottom floor was a family area, filled with exhibition from Lego and scheduled demonstration from Pacific Science Center.
A lot of interesting stuff happening. Yay. Though gotta admit I wasn’t that big of a geek since I didn’t recognize most of the stuff happening in the conference rooms.
Finally I got in line for an autograph and a picture with Danielle Panabaker and took it with Gretar’s phone camera after he got his picture with whoever actor he was in line for. Gotta admit, not the best quality, but it sure was something. Still numb from disbelief that I met Caitlin Snow in person for the next hour.
(mantap abis)
But I got another agenda. Aside from Danielle Panabaker, I also discovered that Raina Telgemeier, an illustrator/comic book artist, was having a talk at noon in one of the rooms. I honestly don’t know her other works, but from before I know she made these three comic books: “Smile”, “Sisters”, and “Drama”. The first two are based from her own real life experience. I didn’t even know why did I buy “Smile” years ago, but I found out that the way she wrote and illustrate it was really interesting and flowy and easy to follow. It’s one of those light books that doesn’t take that much concentration that you can read during break between other heavy books you may be reading.
I discovered the last two in Harper’s room, so I borrowed them from her and finished them in two days (one for each book—if I really put my mind into it I could finish them in a day). Since I’m not really fangirling for these books, I couldn’t really say I was dying to meet Raina Telgemeier. But I was pretty hyped to get a chance to see her.
Gretar and I split when the time for Raina Telgemeier came. As expected, the room was filled with rather little kids. Like, little kids. Elementary. Kids in princess costume and spiderman attire from the kids’ section in Target. Felt more like Halloween instead of Comic Con.
But no, I wasn’t the oldest one. There were several teenagers in the room, though.
After some waiting, she finally came up the podium in front of the room. She was as pretty as her picture in the back of the books. She talked through this podium on one side of the stage where a moderator would be if there were a panel inside the room. You know.
She talked about her books and her experience in writing her own experience and how she draws and other things. At one point, she picked two kids to join her in a reading session where she and the chosen kids read a few pages of her second book “Sisters”, which we could see the panels through the projector screen. She showed some comparisons between her childhood pictures and her illustrations in the book. At the end of the talk, before Q&A, she voluntarily drew from whatever random ideas the kids threw at her. I think it was someone eating an apple getting abducted by aliens in Boston commons or something.
It was fun. I asked a question during the Q&A, hehe. I don’t know, a little regret I had was maybe for not taking a picture with her. I just didn’t feel like it at the time. Stupid me. Oh well. I still got to see her. That’s what matters.
As I said before, turned out I wasn’t, obviously, a big geek as I thought. Maybe I am among my friends. But I was definitely no one in this sea of people who dedicated their time and sweat to make costumes and money to buy tickets for the whole four days of Comic Con and their comfort to look on fleek in their costumes for the whole day. I called Eric a few hours ago to bring me my white small camera, and he came some time in the afternoon, maybe around 2. I gave him my dead heavy camera, and Gretar and I split because he wanted to see Batman vs. Superman. I didn’t join him because a) I’ve heard what the critiques said, b) I’ve heard what Nate—someone in fourth period��ranted about the movie and how it was a bad one, and c) points a and b turned me off, supported by the fact that I wasn’t THAT huge of a DC fan to watch it eventhough people said it was bad.
So I stayed because I wanted to make my $35 worth it. I planned on going to Pacific Science Center’s last exhibition for the day, which was around 4ish, so I waited by exploring the whole building. Or more like the floors where they sell souvenirs and merchandise and all that stuff.
I was trying to be a better fangirl by trying to buy something. But most of them were either too expensive for such a simple design, or unavailable for my size. I almost bought this STAR Labs sweater which would be really cool if only they didn’t only have the size XL. sigh.
I ended up buying nothing. I suppose it’s good because I saved my money. Hehe.
Okay. Maybe not nothing. When I was trying to kill time before the science show, I walked a few blocks to the Central Library and made my Library Card. Then I walked a few more blocks back to the heart of downtown. I entered Old Navy.
The story behind this was that since the end of 2015, I’ve been eyeing this cardigan, which—bear with me—suits me really good, and my mom said it suits me really good, and it came from the maternity section. It was $25. Waiting for an opinion from my mom at the time, I left the store and decided to wait until I’m really sure.
So I came back in the beginning of 2016, and it was freaking $30. For some unknown reasons, I didn’t buy it. So this day, the day of Comic Con, I came back to see if mayyyyybe the price has gone down?
So I looked at the maternity section... only to find that them cardigans were replaced by tank tops.
I totally forgot that items in the store are seasonal. You can see here that I don’t shop much to know about this kind of stuff.
But I did spot one cardigan—the one I wanted—on the top rack, alone. I asked the store person and he said it was the last one. He took it down and it happen to be my size. And guess how much was it.
It was $3.28.
Hurrah!
I sure as shit bought it straight away.
Then I went back to the convention center, watched an exhibition show by Pacific Science Center about electricity or something, then, hoping I would have a question to ask but I didn’t, I went home.
All in all, although what happened wasn’t exactly like what I expected, but I am very extremely happy that I got one of my goals achieved. Kudos to fate for placing me in a big city like Seattle. I might be the biggest comic book geek in my environment back home, but I sure am the tiniest comic book geek in the convention, literally and figuratively. And the convention was way more than American comic books, as it reached farther out to American TV shows, cartoons, and Japanese anime. I wasn’t completely like a kid in a candy store to have all these geeky stuff I’d never got back home, but it definitely was worth it.
The only downside was probably the camera. The stupid camera. Correction—stupid me.
But why the hell should I focus on one low light when there were two high lights of the day: I got to go to a freaking Comic convention, AND unexpectedly got a piece of cardigan I’ve been eyeing for the past several months for a price lower than a lunch combo in KFC?
Hell yeah.
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