#i gotta say while i was drawing the final boss version i was like...... hey he kinda reminds me of vicious | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silverryu25 · 4 years ago

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Hey, Santa Baby~ ;)

This was written for a raffle organized by @catsitta on tumblr (here is a link to the post if anyone wants to join! ends on Dec 30th). Since they said anything goes for the raffle I decided to do a smol fic (kinda? is 1k words considered a fic or a drabble? >.>) for some of their art UwU

And since tis’ the season we gotta go with a nice festive skele, right? So I picked this masterpiece! >:D

Under the cut cause of suggestive themes! ... what can I say, it’s Lust :P

A friend helped me pick who to pair Lust with! Hope you enjoy :D

Pairing: Rust (bara UF!Sans / UL!Sans) Tw: suggestive dancing, swearing

And I apologize but I’m stealing the title cause it’s too perfect UwU

AO3 link

Before starting I apologize for any OOC from Lust, but I never wrote him and there isn’t a lot to read with him so I might get him wrong >.>

A Giftmas party. He was stuck in a fucking Giftmas party.

Red let out an annoyed sigh, downing another spiked mustard shot. If he was stuck here, he’d at least get properly hammered. It would make time pass faster and let him relax enough not to start a fight.

And boy did he wanna start a fight.

There were too many versions of him that were getting on his nerves. He wasn’t a patient monster, not since forever, and if he snapped it wouldn’t end well. Especially since he seemed to be the biggest Sans here, most of his counterparts barely chest height, with rare exceptions. He didn’t really get how that worked since they were basically the same person, but he didn’t care.

He wouldn’t even be here if he had a choice. Boss insisted so now he was stuck here. For a while. He couldn’t leave without taking Boss with him and who knows when he’d want to go back to their shity universe. He was planning something with alliances or some crap like that. Red didn’t really remember and didn’t care. He knew he should, but he just didn’t have it in him to care anymore.

It didn’t really matter.

Why would he care? It’s not like he had anyone or anything to fight for. Boss was stronger than him at this point, he could take care of himself. No one needed Red. He was more trouble than use, especially with his short temper and violent tendencies. And even if he wanted, he couldn’t find anyone who would care for him, not with those useless, scarred, ugly bones of his.

Being surrounded by undamaged, smaller and softer versions of himself wasn’t helping his mood. He could feel every scar that littered his bones itching. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of them, they proved he could survive a lot of crap. But seeing what he could have been-

Before his skull could spiral down that thole anymore, the lights suddenly turned off. Normally, he would have panicked, but he was way too sloshed to really care what happened. He did tense up, preparing for an attack in case it came, but otherwise didn’t move. Luckily for him, instead of an attack there was a flare of stage lights and loud music started playing. It sounded familiar, but his buzzed brain wasn’t processing things right so he wasn’t sure.

The stage was drowned in red and green lights, occasionally a purple and pink one playfully mixing in. It was hypnotizing, drawing his eyelights to the centre of the stage. After a few moments, the curtains lifted showing a row of monsters lined up on the stage.

Red didn’t even glance at them, his attention instantly landing in the centre. There, looking absolutely sinful, was a version of himself. But he was so unlike Red, he couldn’t believe they came from the same basic source.

The monster was gorgeous. His ecto body summoned, soft and supple. A soft purple, shining beautifully in the hypnotic lights. He was wearing a hot dumb Santa outfit that barely covered anything. Hell, it showed off his cures and made them look even more attractive. And boy did he have curves. His female ecto body was very well endowed, curves in all the right places. Red felt his fists squeeze thinking how soft that ecto would feel in his rough phalanges.

Red didn’t have a chance to explore that thought cause the monsters on the stage started dancing to the song. They were pretty good, earning cheers from the crowd, but Red had eyelights only for one monster. He didn’t even know his name, but he couldn’t look away. He was too buzzed to fight it so he just gave in. He leaned back on the bar behind him and looked at the show, tracking every move, dip, hip shake and turn.

The monster was a talented dancer, as if he was doing it for a long time. Red could tell he was having fun, every movement showing his joyful intent at the attention and cheers. The music changed every so often, seamlessly flowing, the dance going faster, then slower, then speeding up again to follow.

Somewhere in the middle Red could swear he caught the monster’s eyelights. It almost looked like they sparkled as they met his. He was ready to dismiss it but suddenly the way the purple skeleton danced became... more intense? Practically lustful?

Red wasn’t sure if he was seeing right, his brain didn’t work properly, so he might have been imagining things. But right at the end, as some obnoxious holiday song was playing, the dancers paused for a few moments, standing in a pose with one arm up on their heads and one leg lifted, the other arm straight down, shaking in rhythm with the song. All the dancers were smiling at the crowd, as far as Red could tell from the corner of his vision.

Only the purple skeleton monster turned his head pointedly in Red’s direction and, with a wide and inviting smile, mouthed the song line “hey, santa baby~” and... winked.

Red could feel his cheeks warm at that. He was blushing? Fucking hell no. No way. He wasn’t. Why would he blush at something as stupid as a wink? And it probably wasn’t even for him. It must have been for some monster standing between him and the stage. What the hell was wrong with him.

Thankfully, the song stopped and the dancers bowed than left the stage. With a sigh of relief, Red turned back to the bar, finally free from that hypnotizing monster light show. He ordered a few more shots, still feeling too sober do deal with... everything.

The drinks were taking forever, making his mood sour even more. Just before he was about to growl after the barkeep there was a soft touch on his elbow. With a scowl and a “wha’ da fuck do ya want?” ready on his teeth he turned towards the offender. And froze.

There was the purple skeleton monster, still wearing that adorable ridiculous outfit. Red stared, feeling his mouth turning dry. He couldn’t think straight enough to say anything, but he didn’t have to. The smaller skeleton, mercifully, took the lead.

“hey big bone, i’m lust.” He gave his name, followed by a smile and that same sinful wink. Red could feel that blush returning full fore.

Suddenly, he didn’t mind being stuck at this fucking Giftmas party.

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lucarioisinthevoid · 4 years ago

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m!a time. you gotta work with Candys employees and bots for a promotional stunt for 5 asks not including this one! sorry phone guy but a jobs a job.

“Wh-what?! Are you SERIOUS?!” Distressed Simon and everyone else snapped up. “E-excuse me, but- uh- WHAT? We’re stuck trying to deal with HENRY, th-that surely comes FIRST, r-right-“ Sorry boys! IT’S CANDY TIME! “NO! NO, NO, NO!” Simon howled. “I DON’T- I DON’T- STOP THIS. I’M NOT DOING IT.” S o r r y b o y s ! Henry meanwhile just snorted. “Oh, for sure. You will do it. Have fun, I will look after the restaurant. Do not fret, I-“ Oh, no, you’re coming too. “… what?” Yeah, everyone! Anyhow, send out the animatronics- and probably Ethan, seeing as he never leaves Evelyn on her own- to Candy’s. Not sure what “work with” means, but I’m supposing the restaurants get exchanged somewhat. Four animatronics and one guard in exchange! So, who is coming- Candy, Cindy, the penguin and Vinnie? You know what, asker, if you’re still around, please do clarify, I’ll retcon this ask in specific to fit it. Oh also, fair warning, I’m rather uninformed on the overall lore of FNaC, the only thing I remember well is the last game. Jeremy was the only one who seemed excited. “Candy’s? That is a pretty good place too!” Cheerful he said. “I think it would be great to have a cross promotion going on- we’re really similar after all!” Simon was rocking back and forth, while Mike awkwardly tried to pet his shoulders. The youngest one didn’t even seem to notice that anyone was distressed. “Heck! I was even there a time or two!” Marion petted him gently, not commenting however. Everyone was staring at the door. Well- At least this would distract everyone for long enough that the situation they were in seemed less scary. This felt familiar, this was chaos, this was busy work. Jerry rubbed his hands, nervously. Hopefully the new employee was nice. Finally, the door opened. Everyone instantly stood up to greet- A young woman stuck her head through the door, looking sheepish. “Hello? Uhm… is this the location?” “Is there any other around?” Henry instantly asked back, only drawing a giggle out of her. “Oh- yeah, I guess. Hello, I am Mary Schmidt!” Everyone turned to Mike who looked as irritated as them. The brown-haired girl- had no real similarity to him. At least in his opinion. Scoffing the aggressive guard spoke up. “Hey, fuckwit. Move it. If you stand in that door like that, a gust of wind might cut off your fucking head. Why are you standing in that door like that anyways?!” “H-hey, that wasn’t nice! And I’m standing here because-“ Like on cue, she was shoved forward, as two colorful animatronics jumped inside, a blue and a purple cat. “I’m Candy!” “And I’m Cindy!” The pre-recorded voices started playing, as both of them bounced and danced in the middle of the place. “And we’re the cat-companions! We’re here to ensure you have ton and ton of FUN!” Mary chuckled, slightly nervous. “Yeah, very nice, but you don’t have to-“ As they cat spotted the Phone Guy, both of them exchanged a look and moved squarely towards him. Cats just knew if you disliked them. “Hey boss!” Candy started. “I- I’m not-“ “Oh, yes you are!” Cindy continued, grinning maliciously. “You LOOK like a bossman!” Candy continued. “Take good care of us, bossman!” “Yes, be nice to us! We want to be good friends!” For once it wasn’t Mike who’s knuckles were so tensed up that they were white. “Y-yeah, uh-“ Simon forced out. “How about you do- me a favor and move back? That- that would help a LOT!” “But booooooooooooooooooooooooooss-“ Both of them said at the same time, before Mary finally managed to get between them. “Candy, Cindy, that’s enough! I’m sure you made enough of a good first impression- oh- penguin, stop!” She had turned just in time to see the penguin repeatedly driving over Henry’s foot, who didn’t react at all. Back and forth. It wasn’t heavy enough to do instant damage, but it was getting there. Before Mary could rush over there however, Henry had kneeled down and- Whispered something. Instantly the Penguin seized to move. Out of breath and concerned the other guard picked him up. “A-ah, thank you! How did you do that?! I never seen anyone-“ Kindly Henry smiled. “Why, I worked at Candy’s for a short while back in the old days. It was quite a lot of fun and I learned a few exploits.” “Exploits…?” “No worries about that. They are not supposed to have them anymore anyhow, so please do not tell, will you?” Still smiling he put a warm hand on Mary’s shoulder, who hesitantly nodded- Before abruptly turning around. “Wait- where’s Vinnie? He wanted to come along-“ “… Vinnie, you say?” Interested Henry looked around as well. “… how come he WANTED to come?” “Oh- I guess because he’s my friend… at least I think he is…? He’s sometimes a bit difficult-“ The blue Marionette had slowly floated in, its arms and legs dangling and sliding over the ground, like he was being pulled forward by an invisible string, by a bad puppet master, who completely neglected the rest of this being’s body. It was moving straight towards the actual Marionette, who was tensing up instantly. Separating from Jeremy, Marion moved forward, being as tall as he could be- And as Vinnie came to stand in front of him, it tilted its head to side the, far, far, its neck making an uncomfortable sound of metal scratching over metal, its head now being the wrong way around- Then it snapped up, matching the Marionette in height, its eyes suddenly starting to shine- It looked so… … ANGRY… But before either of them could do something, two people rushed up to drag their respective puppet away. Jerry whined. “Please- Marion… please, don’t be so upset-“ Mary was concerned too. “Vinnie, please! Why are you acting up like this? Please be nice to our new co-workers…” Simon was clutching his receiver. “Th-this is gonna go terrible, huh?” “Ah, fuck it. It’s going to be fine. We’ll survive.” Mike carefully put an arm around his partner’s shoulder, inspecting the whole group. Mary seemed competent enough… it would probably not end up in absolute disaster. Hopefully. Mike just prayed this would go over as smoothly as possible. (… I guess asks open for the Candy crew? I’m lowkey considering making them into my own AU versions, but more about that in the next post)

#the Group #henry miller #event time

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mememan93 · 4 years ago

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too 10 zelda games and why?

an ask? sick!! ok top 10 zelda games with reason coming up! (why cant i tag asks??)

1: skyward sword (duh)- Everything about this game is amazing, the soundtrack, the Npcs that feel like people, the puzzles, the controls, just everything! The storyline was linear, but really worth it! This might seem unpopular, but i also loved fi, from her aesthetic to her theme, hell i didnt mind her tips, no matter how many times i play through the game! People say they dont like having to fight the imprisoned/ghirahim 3 times. I loved the ghirahim fights and didnt mind doing it 3 times. And while the imprisoned was annoying, it was there because of plot consistency. The old woman says that too much power will draw it out, and if that didnt happen every time yall would be complaining about plot consistency. Skyward sword also had some of my favorite characters: Ghirahim and this version of Zelda!

2: Spirit tracks (wii u virtual console): this was my first Zelda game, I used to play it at family events with my cousin on his ds because social anxiety. You might think that i have it so high for nostalgia, and while that was the case for a while, i recently got the virtual console version, and played though it twice (you know when you do something recently it loses its nostalgia?) the soundtrack was great, i loved anjean, and zelda in that game was incredible. Taking the form of a phantom to help you, literally all of zeldas and links interactions were adorable. People said hey didnt like the touch controls and while they did take some getting used to, i adjusted kinda quickly, and when i played phantom hourglass afterwards, i kept dying cause the rolls were different.

3: Ocarina of time (3D): yes i didnt have an N64, fight me. Oot is a fan favorite, and for good reasons. It basically invented the zelda formula (if i have my release dates straight?) not counting alltp. Shiek is one of my favorite characters in anything ever, and admittedly, i did get a little sad when navi left. The soundtrack is good, but short when compared to other zelda games (that and it keeps getting taken off of youtube gdi!) again, ive never had an n64, so idk what the water temple was like back then, (i know about the iron boots gear screen) but from some of my cousins reactions, it seems to be a LOT better in the 3ds version

4: A link Between worlds: This is a really solid entry in the zelda series. Its got just enough difficulty that i dont remember literally everything, but easy enough that i can listen to something like TAZ while playing and understand whats happening in both. Ravio is a good character, though i wish you could steal for him. The items system was really cool, but i like that feeling of “whatre ya gonna get in this temple” that most zelda games have.

5. Minish cap (virtual console wii u): the minish cap is an all around pretty game. The graphics are just beautiful, the soundtrack is amazing, specially minish woods! And its got another of my fave characters, Vaati! Ezlo was also a great character, and sure the kinstones are annoying if youre tyring to 100% the game as are the figures, so this is why we dont 100% things! /s

6. Majoras Mask (3D): Disclaimer: i havent finished this, i was in ikana when my sister lost our copy of the game. But i know the story. MM is a game with only 4 dungeons, so it would seem short right? No, because of the 3 day system it takes longer than expected and wants you to plan out what youre doing. It had a lot of memorable sidequests and the masks were really fun as well. The soundtrack takes those OOT sounds and creates a whole new feel and its a heckin good time!

7. Twilight princess (wii): another game i havent finished! This time because spider scary, and im worried about encountering another one. Midna is super awesome, as is the wolf form and twilight sections, but on the wii, the controls are… awful. Anyone who complains about skyward swords motion controls has obviously never played this version of the game. Zant was cool, but then he was immediately overshadowed by ganondorf with little explanation. At least in Skyward sword ghirahim makes it clear that all he wants is demises resurrection.

8. Wind waker (HD): for a lot of people this is their favorite, but idk it just never really clicked with me. Maybe its because i saved in the wind temple and Makar vanished so i had to reset my game? The soundtrack was good, but not really my fave, and i didnt like the king of red lions all that much. But other than that, it was a pretty solid game, just not one of my faves.

9. Phantom hourglass (wii u virtual console): after i beat spirit tracks i just HAD to play phantom hourglass, and i gotta say, i was pretty disappointed… the temple of the ocean king was like the tower of spirits, but the time limit. Oh the time limit. Also they fucking nerfed tetra in this game cmon! Ceilia made navi nosies, which i found funny for some reason. Honestly, the only saving grace is linebeck. his theme is amazing, he did grow on me, and the final boss fight against him was *chefs kiss*

10: Botw (both wii u and switch): yeah i just dont really like botw all that much. Half of the soundtrack is pretty decent, but the other half is * 5 piano notes* “what you want MORE???” I didn’t like botw Zelda. At all. At best she was quirky and kinda annoying, and at worst she made me wanna slam my head into the wall. I also didnt care about the champions, no matter how much the game wanted me to. The divine beasts were pretty bad, and the shrines were just kinda tiresome. The graphics were pretty cool (THANK GOD THERE WERE NO SPIDERS) i mean its a cool game, just not a cool zelda game, ya know? Also this is the only game thats made my wii u crash. And it wasnt just one time. Do with that what you will

#loz #i figured out how to tag #lee speaks #an ask!#long post #skyward sword #spirit tracks #tp #oot #mm

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the-nysh · 5 years ago

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Ah, so Viz’s vol19 is finally out, and I had a few notes flipping through it!

First up, there’s no special extended dust jacket cover or insert art to make up for it like in the Japanese one. Even Murata’s beginning author note has the diagram explaining how it works for the 3 volumes, but it’s also lampshaded by saying ‘the Japanese covers are special.’ So welp, that’s Viz for ya by simplifying and cutting out features... There’s also no new original art for the character page (it’s the same reused panels and only slightly modified from vol18’s) or the fictional disclaimer page (previous vol had a cute one with Tareo holding the sign but now it’s blank with only text…)

The vol begins where the last Hot Pot chapter split off last volume (ending at Garou), resuming back at the HA for their raid strategies (excluding Genos and Bang) and soon returning back to Saitama’s apartment for the actual hot pot shenanigans. The split chapter (and vol) have been retitled: “All My Cabbage.”

Highlights from the hot pot scene include: how Murata draws everyone’s hands with different ink styles, so each one is distinct. :O The familiar competitive carnage over ‘Master’s Meat.’ Kuseno happy he gets to see different sides of Genos, and Bang asking Saitama where he went wrong with his philosophy for training pupils at his dojo. :’) And of course, Genos being so high-strung and stressed, he snaps at everyone (especially Fubuki) who mildly inconveniences Kuseno or Saitama, to the point he accidentally snaps at Saitama too! Damn, Genos. :’D

Omg that’s 3 times he directs his ire towards Fubuki here; he can’t stand her.

Next major highlight resumes back to Garou with his textbook BIG DAMN HEROES moment busting thru walls to Tareo’s cries for help and annihilating monstrous child predators on the spot! Wooo! 8D He even took a stab wound to the gut just to go for the kill for that, oh my.

Oh? This panel removed the gray toning and now has different bolder inking.

We also get the 4 redrawn Garou pages with some new classic Murata shots of him like this:

But my fav is finally seeing this redrawn page translated:

“(Because) I’m a monster.” :’)) Ohh that sullen mantra where he keeps having to tell himself that... (Very different from Royal Ripper’s delivery of the line.) But I also like it particularly for how Tareo’s question’s worded, because that’s just…🥺

...Wait Viz, what. For mowing down some hallway monsters and when he’s about to literally eat an arm, what does that even mean. It’s such an odd fluffy choice of words for him to say here.

Whoa Viz, WHAT?! I mean, I’ve seen translations where it’s to replenish his blood or put meat on his bones, but saying it like that (flesh hungry) just makes him sound like...a zombie or something. D: Welp that’s some tonal whiplash and he’s certainly disturbing the kid without trying.

Ah, and here’s how they worded the tsundere scene. Where he clearly reacts, but denies how he cares and awkwardly deflects why he even came there in the first place. (Claiming it’s just for revenge huh...) When (yes he does care, and lol yes he did help Tareo) all other evidence proves otherwise. :P Also hilariously, Garou then immediately proceeds to help/escort/protect him in the scenes right after this, despite all his attempts to avoid/deny it. Garou pls.

Yaaay. :D (Also another fun tidbit, but for the character page and back cover story summaries, Tareo’s described as not simply the boy who likes heroes, but rather, ‘the boy who admires Garou’ instead. Ahh cute. :’3)

Course, further shit hits the fan once Rover (lit. translated as Pochi) intervenes.

And whew;; that’s some pretty harsh tact. It’s the same ‘what do I care’ wording as the previous tsundere scene from before (oh and hey, now he admits he saved Tareo’s life too), but this time, Garou’s gotta be purposely mean so Tareo runs away from him with the chance to escape, all while Garou jumps in leeroy jenkins style to distract Rover as the SACRIFICIAL DECOOOOY!!! (Even yelling at Rover like, ‘Nuh-uh! Keep your eyes on me!’)

Ahh! The cola line’s still immortalized! 8′D (Same deal for him, as he thinks it’s the end among his final thoughts, but he still pops back with the will to go on~)

His ��sit’ command to Rover has an additional ‘sit, doggy’ to it...which is another case of Viz somehow wording things fluffier for him again... (Similarly of note, but every time shit happens they’d have Garou exclaim a rather vague/mild ‘uh-oh..’ Just let him say shit like the dub would have done!)

Soon he drops in to meet Psykos Gyoro-Gyoro, and...

Nice. It’s been several times now the MA’s tried to butt in, assuming they know what he wants or what’s best for him. His NO should be resoundingly clear!

*reels back* Whoaaoa yikes! D8 Oh god, it’s practically the same thing that Royal Ripper said to Tareo! Oh my god, Psykos is a predator too! Abort abort!!! (Immediately before this she also admitted to abusing many humans/monsters.)

Meanwhile, Viz can hit some lines well, but other times they’ll loosely translate things like this (brace for it):

....scchhh;; Ugh yeah, no. That’s a miss. I knew they’d shoot themselves in the foot for over-simplifying Metal Bat’s fighting spirit concept before, cause now for the actual call-back it just sounds lame calling it that. Anyway, Garou’s got his own strength of will/fighting spirit here for resisting Psykos’ psychic powers.

Also, the badass ‘spiderman’ pose is translated as “so it’s hunting time!” which is...not bad. (Could be cooler like ‘the hunt is on’ versions I’ve seen.)

Ah, and these panels were redrawn. Now she snaps her fingers and the ceiling’s eye patterns glow to transform the room for Orochi.

The battle vs Orochi proceeds (Garou calls it facing first a dog monster now a ‘worm boss’) and ooh, this page is good! :D

...But this panel’s another lol for a random literal ‘gasp.’

...OHHHHHH!!! She calls Garou pure of heart! 8′D Omigosh yes, I was waiting to see how this would be translated! Also calling out those internal contradictions of his (which are quite apparent) and eyuauah, her sinister plans to brainwash him;;;

The volume ends here where Saitama opens the manhole, and parking Garou for now until he awakens next time!

For the bonus chapter, we hilariously get a Saitama going meta with his head stuck in fiction while ignoring reality~

(Some interesting things he says about the protagonist and antagonist tho, oho!)

#opm #garou #commentary #long post #oh whoa this got pretty long so it continues under the readmore #tonally viz kinda went all over the place for some of garou's lines #they can land hits well while missing others...so welp it's fun to see what they choose and compare with fan translations #(they don't have him swear like the dub would do so hhhh;;)#also yay psykos called garou pure of heart!!! :'D

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freevoidman · 5 years ago

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Okay I’m reading through Porg’s update so some of y’all can save your braincells and here are some great highlights (under a readmore bc i couldn’t help but tear into a few things she suggested):

Flat out ignoring that Vergil had changed by the end of the game as a result of V and Urizen’s separate experiences.

In trying to make V and Urizen their own character, she throws out the idea of Vergil being manipulated by the Qliphoth/Urizen (??? somehow??? even though the tree is implied to be non-sentient i believe???), with V being a Devil hunter looking through the remains of Mallet Island (which was completely blown up, turned to rubble, and then swallowed by the sea, so... that can’t happen), finding the cane which makes him youthful and not sick but... having the cane makes it so he can only kill demons through the cane??? for some reason??? And he needs the Qliphoth fruit to heal himself and free him from the curse???

How did she make V’s backstory even more confusing and complicated how the fuck did she do that

Almost immediately after bringing up the cane, she instead changes it to be one of the rings he’s wearing because she wants her “precious V” to use weapons other than the cane, which makes all the prior paragraphs about the cane’s curse and only using it pointless. She’s the one writing this fic, why can’t she edit her own work so it’s more cohesive?

Despite saying that V should be a Devil Hunter, she doesn’t explain why someone who is supposed to be killing demons would form a pact with at least three to fight demons. Her rewrite dismisses Visions of V, and she even states later that the manga is a waste of time as it won’t ever be translated into English (which 1) is not a limiting factor to reading it as many people have translated it already and 2) doesn’t dismiss it’s value at building up V’s character, who she supposedly likes the best).

Also, for someone who complains about DMC5 being a rehash of DMC3, she’s sure doing her best to change it to a rehash of DMC1 (Vergil being controlled by an outside force, bringing back Mallet Island, bringing back Mundus [the cane is supposed to be tied to Mundus]).

V apparently can’t be human because she wants to give him a devil trigger, despite having 3 familiars and his own strength. Okay I guess?

Also it’s really fucking sick how she describes V changing, because it’s apparently V fusing with Nightmare? Devil May Cry has never been one for body horror but she straight up says she was inspired by “The Thing (1982), The Fly (1986), Bloodborne, and Resident Evil 7″ for the transformation imagery and I wanted to nope the fuck out of there real quick.

Her segments of actual fiction writing and dialogue are really bad it’s almost like a parody Youtube skit.

She switches between prose and script writing randomly, it’s really odd. She does it primarily with Dante i’ve noticed? Here’s an example I wrote of what she does:

“Hey, don’t stress out about it will you?” Says John following a few steps behind VINCENT: Don’t get your panties in a twist

And that just happens... randomly? Like, there’s no indication why she’s doing that it just happens.

She straight up writes notes in her fic about the controls for character actions in-game what the hell--

She also shamelessly puts in a link to artwork that clearly isn’t her’s (and I highly doubt she got permission to post about) to try and show what V’s Devil Trigger would look like. I couldn’t find it because I don’t know how pixiv works, but that’s just a shitty move, especially with how she treats artists on tumblr when they draw art of Vergil.

EDIT: Porg has now straight up copy-pasted the art into her fic without the artist’s permission which is, we all know, fucking theft. While it is good artistry, is just a weird mashup of Vergil’s and Dante’s. It’s not all that unique and I don’t understand why she had to reference a bunch of body horror shit when all the Devil Triggers in game are essentially just a large flash of light and a seamless transition between forms??? It’s good art, I’m not trying to bash the artist, but... Porg, you could’ve been a little more original here rather than just ripping off another artist’s designs...

Everyone in her fic acts super casually to seeing Vergil alive in the Qliphoth and it’s like... honey, no.

Vergil acts WILDLY out of character holy fuck. Like, I know I should have expected that but this is NOT how Vergil would act in the slightest. She’s pretty much writing an OC.

Building off of this: EVERYONE acts OOC and... it’s not exactly cringey, but it is perfect proof that Porg doesn’t know what she’s doing and hasn’t properly analyzed the characters.

Dante acts weirdly... detached? There’s no sign of him acting like his normal goofball-y self, and he’s much more serious than normal. He actually acts more like cannon Vergil than himself, actually. (He also knows CPR apparently? Which... is a skill he would really never bother learning, so...)

Nero doesn’t act nearly as emotional, and acts calmly for some reason. You can’t feel any of his emotions behind his dialogue, only through the adverbs added to the tags)

V is too informative. He knows way too much about random shit that... no one should rightfully know. I’ll mention it more later, but... V doesn’t act like himself and I don’t really know how to explain it.

Vergil is essentially her OC. Seriously--he’s not as brooding or snarky, he’s far too open and apologetic, there’s practically no sense of rivalry between him and Dante. Weirdly, he acts more like canon V than fic!V does, despite the fact that Porg wants to establish V and Vergil and separate characters. His actions also make no sense when put alongside his canon personality. We aren’t reading anything about Vergil, we’re reading about Porg’s weirdly idealized version of him.

I’m going to make a break in the post here because I feel like this is the part that needs the most attention:

Porg goes OUT OF HER WAY to dedicate a GIANT portion of this chapter to her own OC: Nero’s mom. There are several long paragraphs of establishing the relationship between her OC and Vergil, talking about leaving Fortuna, how they were ‘happy’ and then saying that after a hurricane (inspired by hurricane hugo, you’ll see later) she got separated from Vergil, never reconnected with him, GAVE BIRTH, died from a demon attack with Nero staying near her corpse, and then Nero was found by humans and taken off the mainland to be taken to an orphanage on Fortuna. She wanted a massive amount of time to be taken out of the fun parts of playing Devil May Cry to establish a relationship that would never come back and essentially turn into a 15 minute soap opera inserted into a game about having fun killing demons.

Alright back to the noted highlights.

Porg confirms in her fic that the universe of Devil May Cry happens in the US, and that Fortuna is an island along the southeast coast and I want to fucking rip my eyeballs out at this point.

The ONLY REASON why she is doing this is because she lives in Florida. I know she does, and she just wants to imply that this is all happening near her home turf. How anyone who lives in Florida thinks an island like Fortuna can exist is beyond me though, because playing through 4, most of the buildings are inspired by Italian designs, and no one in the states would build an entire island with italian designs. I’ve been to Florida multiple times--there’s no buildings there even REMOTELY designed to match Fortuna.

EDIT: I have been informed that Porg actually lives in Pennsylvania, not Florida, which makes both more and less sense. Why Florida? Why not a hidden island up on the east coast? Why does this have to be taking place in the states at all Porg???

Yeah, let’s take Nero off the MAINLAND OF FLORIDA after a DEVASTATING HURRICANE and send him to an orphanage on an ISLAND which would’ve been hit the hardest by ANY hurricane. TOTAL SENSE.

She tries to make her own timeline for the series using actual real world dates and events and it’s terrible (she references Hurricane Hugo in 1989, and confidently states that 3 took place in 1990, despite all evidence for the actual dates of events being fan theory established through circumstantial evidence).

There’s so much horror movie inspiration here--not cheap horror, but really twisted shit that... doesn’t fit with Devil May Cry’s tone at all? In the slightest? She references Jacob’s Ladder, plus all the other body horror media I wrote above.

Straight up just tears Vergil’s arm off which sure, I guess we gotta make THAT a parallel between Nero and Vergil. They can have a father son moment over being physically maimed.

In the scene immediately before this, Urizen picks up Vergil by the head and roots around Vergil’s memories (somehow???) to show him all the ‘bad moments’ in his life to traumatize him. She describes it as the audience getting flashes of him falling to hell, charging Mundus, being Nelo Angelo, etc.

This causes Vergil to cry and beg for Urizen to stop. Then Urizen rips off his arm. So. Yeah. Another point for the OOC!Vergil/OC-taking-Vergil’s-place board.

Also this point ALONE made me realize that Porg does not know how much time, effort, and money needs to be put into making assets. Like, the entire fic she was stressing that everything be done in 5′s HD Graphics--including the ruins of Mallet Island, so I have to assume she’d want these little snippets in HD too, which would be a massive money hole creating these assets for one scene that lasts maybe ten seconds total.

I know I stated it in one of my earlier posts, but most of what she’s writing would fit better with a sequel for the reboot series, not DMC5. It would make her OOC writing of Vergil make sense, all the horror movie inspiration and body horror shit would fit better there, especially all the crappy dialogue too.

She somehow made Griffon even MORE annoying than in cannon.

BTW if I had to listen to poetry while fighting the final boss of a video game, I’d sooner turn my PS4 off. Not that poetry isn’t cool and all, but it cheapens the final fight and distracts you. It wouldn’t work.

EDIT: I realized this point made no sense without context, sorry. Porg made the Book of Urizen (the poetry book by William Blake referenced multiple times by V) either weirdly prophetic or made it out like Blake had inner knowledge of demon powers or... something along those lines, and V magically has the knowledge that reciting poetry from the book about Urizen will... harm him? Weaken him? Open a gate to hell (she mentions a portal appearing near him)? It’s very unclear, but she essentially rewrites Urizen as the final boss, and makes it three stages (V [Griffon recites some verses, which is what the first point was about], Vergil and Dante [this is where Vergil gets his arm ripped off btw], and then Nero) with all three of them reading poetry from the book to deal the “final blow” to Urizen. I’d much rather have Vergil be the final boss than have to go through a three-stage boss fight while every character I play as recites poetry to kill the boss.

She mentions Dante using Sin DT against Urizen but I’m pretty sure with her fuckery of the game’s events Dante can’t GET Sin DT? Because there’s no fight between Nero and Urizen where he’d intervene?

COMPLETELY IGNORES VERGIL’S DEVELOPMENT OF WANTING TO TRAVEL WITH HIS BROTHER THROUGH HELL TO ELIMINATE THE QLIPHOTH FUCK OFF.

Also she changed the lore of the Qliphoth so that it sprouts semi-naturally around every 500 or so years? So... shouldn’t leaving the Qliphoth roots be fine now? Since it’s natural?

Nico acts like growing back arms is totally normal

Wrote an INCREDIBLY shoe-horned in moment in the van with Dante filling Trish and Lady in about finding Vergil and everything that happened where, once again, Trish and Lady act almost completely nonplussed that Vergil is alive after 20+ years in hell, with about 9 of those ten years being trapped under Mundus’ control and corrupted by the Demon King

Seriously why is no one surprised in this fic that Vergil survived? Dante has a brief moment before finding him, but everyone finds out and accepts it like flipping a switch (once again--ESPECIALLY DANTE, which is NOT how the grieving process works)

Porg states that the ending is trash because the twins are fighting in hell, but completely ignores that most of Dante and Vergil’s lives have been built on conflict and they like fighting demons, especially Dante. Both of them were happy and doing what they love.

She also completely ignores through this entire thing that Dante was really fucking depressed in the novels leading up to 5 but hey I don’t even know if she can read.

I can vaguely agree that Trish and Lady were sidelined and they should’ve had a bigger role. However, I can’t fault the directors for not doing this, because they were already developing three playable characters with their own unique fighting styles. She writes all this shit about the story, writes notes about controls and mission layouts, but forgets that it takes a lot more than pressing a single button to code a game.

She just doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Seriously, none of these things are cohesive or edited properly, and despite her saying she wanted better for Vergil, or Nero, or Dante, or V, she writes all of them incredibly out of character and doing illogical actions. I just... I don’t get it.

The best part is--I can’t even tell her about these things, or give constructive criticism. She moderates the comments on her fic and isn’t afraid to delete anything she doesn’t agree with or can’t make a ‘passionate rant’ about.

#devil may cry #derelict-stranger #thephantomporg84 #i'm doing y'all a favor here

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musette-thornsong · 5 years ago

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Mighty Ducks: The Madness of Dragaunus, Version #2

The Saurian Overlord, Dragaunas, has conquered Earth for some years and left the planet barren wasteland after making an ancient evil prophecy come to realization. Many whom refuse to worship him perish while there are those who plot and lie in wait for the moment to launch a full-scale retaliation. Meanwhile, Dragaunus has started to grow tired of reign feeling unloved by his subjects and going mad from seeing visions of the Mighty Ducks after their “alleged” deaths. How far will his madness go when he thinks of taking on a queen to secure his immortality by means of his continued lineage?

Dragaunus x Fatimah

Warning: CREEPINESS & insanity may ensue!!!

Words: 1593

Fatimah Rhenzon and any other non-Mighty characters belong to me.Enjoy!

Dragaunus was sitting in his throne room like usual, relishing in being overlord of the galaxy. He had Ratna locked up just below him and keeps her around to amuse himself. But lately he’s felt something missing since everyone only worships him out of fear. Then one day, he suddenly asked Ratna.

Dragaunus: Ratna, why am I not loved?

Ratna: (shrugs nonchalantly)

Dragaunus: (struts about confidently) ♫ I am that rare and awesome thing. I'm every inch a king ♫ (places his hand on her cage while clutching his fist to his chest in anguish) ♫ yet I feel a twinge of doubt as I go walk about ♫

Chameleon, Siege, & Wraith: Hey, boss!

Dragaunus’ Saurian henchman had come in with several complaints. Unfortunately, he was so lost in his melancholy that he paid them no mind.

Dragaunus: (continues) ♫ When my name is whispered throughout the galaxy, is this talk of love or tragedy? ♫

Chameleon: (confused) Traggie who?

Dragaunus: (sadly) ♫ Tell me I'm adored. Please tell me I'm adoooored ♫

Noticing he wasn’t paying attention, they decided to try their luck again. Only this time, a little louder.

Chameleon, Siege, & Wraith: HEY, BOSS!!!

Dragaunus: (shouts angrily) OH, WHAT IS IT!?

Chameleon: (annoyed) We got a bone to pick with you

Wraith: (points out) There's no food, no water...

Siege: (frustrated) Yeah. It's dinnertime, and there ain't no stinkin' entrées!

Dragaunus: (roars, practically scaring them stiff) YOU AND YOUR PETTY COMPLAINTS!! You don't know what real hunger is! Day after day it gnaws at the very core of my being!

Chameleon: (completely misses the point) I had that once. It was worms

Dragaunus: (angrily corrects him) No, no, no!!... it's like an itch... deep, persistent, profound...

Siege: (misses the point as well, giving some unneeded advice) That's it-- worms! When they get really bad all you gotta do is... hunker down and scoot

Dragaunus: (irritated, shouts reminding them of their original predicament) Thanks for the tip. INGRATES!! If it weren't for me, you'd be beating off buzzards for your next bite!

Knowing he was in a pretty bad mood to even care about their hunger, they tried to comfort Dragaunus in hopes he’ll get them a decent meal. The Saurians gathered around and serenaded him while Ratna did so from the background of her cage. This, however, was irritating Dragaunus even more than before.

Chameleon, Siege, & Wraith: (serenades) ♫ Yeah, you're our savior, thanks a bunch. But how about some lunch? It doesn't matter if it's fresh, I need a fix of flesh. My bones have moved to where they've never been. They are on the outside looking in ♫

Dragaunus: (growls) ARE YOU BLAMING ME!?

Chameleon, Siege, & Wraith: (reassured him fearfully) Oh no, it's the humans

Dragaunus: Oh

Chameleon, Siege, & Wraith: (continues) ♫ You are so adored ♫

Ratna: (joins in) ♫ You are so adored ♫

Chameleon, Siege, & Wraith: (bows down to Dragaunus) ♫ You are so adored ♫

Dragaunus: (gleefully) That's more like it!

Chameleon, Siege, & Wraith: (continue professing their state of hunger before enclosing around Ratna) ♫ But what I'd give for one more hit of yummy duckling wing or maybe sweet girl on the spit...♫

Ratna: (terrified as they drew in close to closed before crying out) Oh, how I miss dear WILDWING!!!

And as soon as name slipped out, that automatically became Dragaunus’ tipping point. He hated hearing the names of the enemies he had put an end to just to get his way and continue his tyranny uninterrupted. And if it was one being he hated more than Drake DuCaine or Canard, it was Wildwing most of all.

Dragaunus: (becomes furious upon hearing that name) Wildwing?! WILDWING?!

Chameleon, Siege, & Wraith: (shocked at hearing them in their master’s presence, though snickered before suddenly slipping out of the throne room)

Dragaunus: (grabs the bars of her small prison, glaring as his nostrils flared in anger) How dare you! I thought I told you never to mention that name or any of those meddling fowls in my presence!

Ratna: (scared, bows in defeat) Note taken. I promise I won't mention "M-m-m" or any of them again

Dragaunus: (becomes terrified seeing their ghosts everywhere he turned) Even in death, their putrid shadows loom over me. There they are! No!! There they are! And there!!

Ratna: (warns him) Calm yourself, Sire, or you'll get another one of your splitting headaches!

Dragaunus: (screams reassuringly to break himself out of his state of panic) ♫ I AM PERFECTLY FINE!!!

Ratna: (wipes her brow barely dodging his wrath)

Dragaunus: (goes into mental war with himself) I'm better than that Wildwing was. I'm revered, I am reviled. I'm idolized, I am despised. I'm keeping calm, I'm going wild! (physically goes into a tizzy) I tell myself I'm fine. Yes, I am. No, you're not. Yes, I am. No, you're not. I tell myself I'm fine. No, you're not. Yes, I am, no you're not. Yes, I am! No, you're not! Yes, no, yes, no, who am I talking to...!? ♫ (laughs psychotically)

Ratna: (shouts to him to calm down) Oh, pull yourself together, Sire!

Dragaunus: (calms down) Oh, very well. Ratna? Ratna, Ratna, Ratna...? (places himself down next to her)

Ratna: (responds secretly aggravated) Yes, Sire?

Dragaunus: (drapes his arm over the cage before expressing his life-long misery) Nobody loved me, there's the thrashing, not even as a hatchling! What did those loathsome pheasants have that I don't have? (smiles eagerly, excited to hear a redeeming answer)

Ratna: (sarcastically) Do you want the short list or the long?

Dragaunus: (annoyed, gets up while pondering on Ratna’s thoughts) Whatever!

Ratna: (happily but smugly states) Well, they had adoring allies and friends...

Dragaunus: (grunts at that impossibility)

Ratna: (goes on) A bond like a loving family...

Dragaunus: (grunts once again)

Ratna: And (in a certain term) “a devoted significant other they would treat as a king or queen...”

Dragaunus: (instantly latches onto the idea) That's it! I need a queen!

Ratna: (freaks at the very thought of some poor soul becoming the mother of this monster) A what!?

Dragaunaus: (goes on fanatically having finally gone off the deep end) A queen, man! A queen! Without a queen, what am I? A dead end, no line, no descendants, no future! With a queen, I'll have hatchlings... Immortality will be mine!

Ratna: (eyes widened as she covered her mouth to stifle her gasp)

Dragaunus: (raises in arms in victory, exclaiming) Immortality will be mine!

Fatimah: (walks in) Dragaunus

No sooner had this plan stuck to him, Fatimah suddenly walked into the throne room with complaints of her own. That mattered little to Dragaunus as he turned around to gaze upon this battle-hardened beauty before him. Regardless that she was human, Fatimah had the intelligence, strength, charm, and natural looks that would be enough to make her his ideal queen. But she was far less than interested in such a distasteful idea let alone being associated with Dragaunus. But her people were suffering and will do what it takes so they could somewhat coexist peacefully. Ratna admired Fatimah’s bravery but fears she may have come at the worst time.

Dragaunus: (turns to see her in the doorway) Ah, Fatimah... Your timing couldn't have been more perfect. (looks her up and down, licking his lips) My how you've grown!

Fatimah: (puts it off, adamant about her current mission) Dragaunus, you have got to do something. We're being forced to overwork!

Dragaunus walks around Fatimah with his tail suddenly stroking under her chin. All the while admiring her worthiness, he completely ignores her pleas.

Dragaunus: (serenades with his back to her) ♫ She's got those assets feminine ♫

Fatimah: (continues) You're the Overlord. Control the droids and Saurians

Dragaunus: (scheming while clutching his fist in confidence) ♫ I have to make her mine ♫

Fatimah: (angrily points out) You're destroying every planet in the galaxy

Dragaunus: (turns around before circling her) ♫ Nobility in every gene ♫

Fatimah: If we don't stop now, don't you see?

Dragaunus: (circles her) ♫ She has to be my queen ♫

Fatimah: (tries to get through to him) ...there's still a chance for things to be all right again...

Dragaunus: (brings her close to him moving her to balcony, staring at the moon profoundly) ♫ Come, sweet Fatimah. It's written in the stars ♫

Fatimah: (concerned by actions, feeling uneased) What are you doing? Are you listening to me?

Dragaunus: (proclaims his intentions towards her, completely insane) ♫ We'll create a host of little Saurs ♫

Fatimah: (winces in confusion at the very idea) What are you talking about?

Dragaunus: (pulls her closer to him before pinning her against the wall, gropes her backside and leg drawing his lips closer to her anxiously waiting for her to say the words he longs to hear) ♫ Tell me I'm adored ♫

Fatimah: (panics, struggling against him) Get away from me! (manages to grab the dagger strapped to her leg, immediately slashing Dragaunus across the face)

Dragaunus: (shouts in pain as his cheek bled, dropping Fatimah to the ground as he staggered back a bit) ♫ Tell me I'm ador-AH!!! (shrugs it off before responding, turned on before slipping back into sinister) Oh, Fatimah... you know how I loathe violence. One way or another, you will be mine!

Fatimah: (refuses outright before running out of the throne room) Never, Dragaunus. Never!

Dragaunus: (insistent on his position, proclaims) ♫ You belong to me! You all belong to meee-eeee-EEE-EEEEEE!!! ♫

#mighty ducks #dragaunus #madness of king scar #the lion king #lion king broadway #hyenas #Disney

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kafeuka · 7 years ago

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[1/1] of random doodles, sweet treats and bubble gum hair

▬ title: of random doodles, sweet treats and bubble gum hair ▬ wordcount: 5585w ▬ pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin ▬ summary: Jimin works at a cafe as a barista and Jungkook's the son of Jimin's boss. Together, they're just two boys in love.

☆ note: this was requested by yunieusagi and it is A SHITLOAD different than the real request, i have to apologize for that. i know it's a lot different than what you had it mind, but i just can't seem to write it??? idk what the fuck's wrong with me and i am really really really sorry for that. i can't believe this took me a lot of time and the end product is... quite... unsatisfactory... but however, enjoy! thank you for requesting and once again, i am so sorry for how it turned out. (๑>ɷ<๑) read on AO3 here. request here.

▬▬▬▬▬▬

Jungkook had a strong urge to yell at his father to piss off and stop intruding with his life (just like any other kid on their rebellious phase) but he really did not want to irritate the man who provide him with food and daily pocket money. Especially not when Jungkook was dying to get himself the latest video game so he could lock himself in his room and boast to his friends how he managed to finish the entire game in one seating.

He entered the café through the backdoor, greeting Somin who was on a break and nodded his head to Yien.

The smell of coffee wafted in the air, making him scrunched his nose delightfully as he took the nearest seat at the counter. While initially he hated the idea of him staying until closing time, he figured he might as well do something productive while he was at it.

In Jungkook’s dictionary, however, productive meant filling his sketchbooks (and textbooks) with doodles and sketches of random things and people.

His father was away for a business meeting and he was given the job to lock the café. He could have lied and given the keys to one of the workers but his dearest father had specifically assigned him to the task. Mingyu once suggested that his father was probably having high hopes that Jungkook would have taken the family business and Jungkook thought it was a crazy idea, but it seemed to make more sense now although Jungkook made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with the café.

Breathing in the scent of coffee, he flipped open his sketchbook and took out a mechanical pencil from the pocket of his hoodie. His mind was as blank as the page of his book, and when the lead touched the paper, he began scrawling and doodling whatever he could. Sometimes he would draw people, at times he would draw animals. Half of his sketchbook was filled with drawings of people; they did not serve him as an inspiration, but rather something for him to work on.

He was not searching for perfection, but just a proof that he could bring an image of them to life.

Jungkook was drawing Minghao from memory – which he totally sucked at (and now Minghao looked like he got ran over by a lorry) – when he felt a presence in front of him. He looked up to find Jimin was smiling at him, small hands gently pushing the ceramic cup towards Jungkook.

Jimin was one of the new workers his father hired recently, the only one in the café he was unfamiliar with and he absolutely had no intention to, as Jimin had bright pink hair that grab everyone’s attention. He swore even trees would turn to look at him if he passed by one.

“Hey. Jungkook, right?” he asked, beaming as if he ate light bulbs for breakfast.

Too bright for Jungkook’s liking.

“Yeah,” he answered, drawing lines on Minghao’s hair.

“Somin told me to make this for you. She said it’s your favourite.”

Jungkook casted a glance at the ceramic cup which was filled with whipped cream drizzled with melted Nutella and topped with tiny marshmallows along with chocolate pocky sticks. Hot chocolate, just for Jungkook, just the way Jeon Jungkook likes it.

“You made it…?” he questioned, sounding sceptical.

The regular hot chocolates were different than Jeon Jungkook’s Hot Chocolate. Unlike the Regular Hot Chocolates for Basic People, Jungkook’s had extra whip cream, extra melted Nutella, extra tiny marshmallows and extra chocolate pocky sticks because he was that extra.

(And also because he was the boss’ son, and he liked all the workers who tried to kiss his ass and pamper him around.)

The bubble gum-haired man nodded, smiling once again.

“Don’t worry, it’s as good as Somin’s. She’s the one who taught me after all.”

“Okay…”

“Alright then, I’ll leave you to your work. You’re taking the university entrance exam this year, yeah? Good luck!” Jimin grinned once again, this time pumping his fist in the air before ruffling Jungkook’s hair and proceeded to work.

Jungkook muttered in annoyance under his breath, fixing his tousled hair.

Jimin was lying when he said it was as good as Somin’s because somehow, it tasted better. Not as sweet as Somin made and Somin’s always extra sweet when she made things.

It only dawned to him that the café was closing down when he heard Yien shouting a ‘bye!’ from the kitchen, exiting through the backdoor. Jungkook groaned, sitting up straight to crack the kink on his neck. He was slouching the whole time he was sketching and he was not proud of the final product. Not at all.

“I’m going home, Kook. Jimin’s still here so don’t lock him in, okay?” Somin sing-songed, patting Jungkook’s shoulder as she passed by. “Bye!” she chirped, waving a hand while the other pushed open the glass door.

“Bye.”

Just as he was about to pack his stuff, he turned to find Jimin was working on something behind the counter by the blender. He let out a sigh, wishing for the young barista to hurry up. From how concentrated Jimin was, Jungkook figured it would take him some time before he could close up the café.

The café was empty except for the two of them. All the tables were cleaned and chairs slotted perfectly on top of them. He was suddenly itching to sketch the empty place. The lights outside were still on, and the book shop across of them still had a few customers inside as they closed an hour later than them.

Jungkook sighed as he scratched his head, not knowing the right words to say to Jimin. He racked his brains to find polite version of ‘hurry the fuck up’ but instead, the only thing he could say was “Uhh…” making him sound like an idiot.

Finally, after struggling internally, he murmured, “Excuse me… but we’re closed now, just so you know.”

“Sorry,” Jimin giggled. He had his back turned to Jungkook, making it difficult for the boss’ son to see what he was up to. “I’m trying this new recipe and thought it’ll be great.”

‘What does that have to do with me?’

“And since Mr. Jeon isn’t here, I think you should try it.”

“Maybe some other—”

“And it’s done!”

Jimin turned to him with a huge grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he presented Jungkook a pink cupcake on a plate, frosted with swirly cream cheese and topped with rainbow sprinkles. Jungkook did not have the heart to tell Jimin that he did not trust any food that had the colour pink in it, specifically because it looked as if it was puked by unicorns and it was just plain weird.

“What do you think? Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Uh…”

“Cmon, give it a bite! You’ll like it.”

By then, Jimin had taken a seat in front of him, hands on his chin. Jungkook’s plan was to get the hell away from there as fast as his legs could. However, Jimin’s sparkling eyes caged him to stay seated and reluctantly, he reached out for the plate. Jimin batted his eyelashes excitedly, his big smile stretching to his pierced ears.

Jungkook gave him a fake smile, silently praying that he would still live after taking a bite. The cupcake looked wonderful, too wonderful to be true and sometimes, certain things that looked wonderful tend to have bad effects. Like that one game he downloaded last week for example. The previews looked neat, but turned out it was a ripped off of Candy Crush.

After a few moments of hesitating and cursing his father inside his head, he took a small bite and —

“How was it?”

— he took another bite again and again and again.

“Holy shit.” His eyes were wide open, gawking at the half-eaten cupcake.

“What what what?” Jimin bugged, eyes as wide as Jungkook’s as his feet tapped repeatedly on the floor. “Is it bad? Oh god, I knew I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no. This…” Jungkook swallowed. Oh god. “This is good. Jimin, this is the best thing I’ve had today. No, all week!”

A faint pinkness dusted his cheeks, tips of his ears burning red as he grinned again. “You’re flattering me.”

One bite later, Jungkook was only left with the paper cup and pink crumbs. He let out a sigh of content. “That was good.”

“You have something…” Jimin murmured, reaching forward to grab hold of his chin.

Startled, Jungkook stayed frozen in his seat, unable to move with Jimin’s eyes staring intensely at him. Jimin wiped the corner of his lip gently before backing away to his seat and licked the cheese cream clean from his finger.

Jungkook tried to suffocate a flush that was trying to creep on his cheekbones and snorted. “Could’ve just told me, could you.”

Jimin smiled again, this time it reached his eyes, making them curve like half-moons. “Wouldn’t wanna waste it.”

“Freak,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, looking away and pretended to be busy packing his stuff. “I gotta close down the café. Hurry up, will you? I have school tomorrow.”

♡

“Are you saying that, that guy over there,” Khunpimook said, jerking his head towards Jimin’s direction, “Super cute uni guy, flirts with you?”

“Shh, not so loud!” Jungkook gritted his teeth, hitting Khunpimook on his arm.

Khunpimook winced in pain, rubbing on the sore spot whereas Mingyu only let out a chuckle at his friends’ antics. Seokmin came to their table after getting his orders and sighed dreamily, “Jimin is so cute.”

“What,” Jungkook deadpanned.

Mingyu snorted.

Khunpimook sardonically grinned. “Oi, bros don’t steal bros’ hoes.”

“He’s not my hoe. He’s not a hoe!”

“Nobody said anything about him being your hoe, you hoe,” Khunpimook shot back.

“Ooooh,” Seokmin wiggled his eyebrows, giving Jungkook the creepiest smile he had ever witnessed in his eighteen years of living. “Somebody has a crush~”

“That all make sense now! No wonder you’re eager to come here today!” Mingyu clapped his hands together. The others on the table gasped dramatically before smiling creepily at Jungkook.

A humiliated blush climbed up his neck and face, and as he opened his mouth to defend himself, Jimin came towards their table to serve Seokmin his latte.

“Latte for Handsome Guy?”

“That’s me,” Seokmin beamed proudly. “Thanks, Jimin.”

“More like handsome horse,” Mingyu snickered, earning a high five from Khunpimook.

Jungkook gagged internally at how cheesy Seokmin was being. And he gagged even more when Jimin smiled at him, as if he was enjoying all the attention Seokmin was giving him. Mingyu nudged on Jungkook lightly, just as he usually did whenever Jungkook had a crush on someone but it was unnecessary this time because Jungkook totally did not have a crush on Jimin.

No way.

He did not realise he was staring at Jimin until Jimin looked up to him and smiled. The same smile he had given to Seokmin. “Hi, Kookie.”

Khunpimook whipped his head to Jungkook in a speed of lighting, nose flaring and mouth wide open at the nickname Jimin was calling him. Jungkook had to pretend he did not see the ridiculous face Khunpimook was making, afraid that his dumb reaction would have implanted funny ideas inside Jimin’s head. Mingyu, on the other hand, snorted while Seokmin took a sip from his straw as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Jungkook faked a cough to hide his momentary loss of rationality, not looking at Jimin when he replied, “Hey.”

Jimin smiled again before walking back to the counter and as soon as he went away, the boys started to nudge Jungkook and teased him for his red face like the great friends they were.

“Somebody’s in love!” Khunpimook whispered, although Jungkook was certain the elephants in India could have heard him because Khunpimook was not given the ability to lower the volume of his annoying voice.

“Sorry, bro. I will give him up for you,” Seokmin said earnestly with a hand on his chest.

Mingyu chuckled rather loudly. In fact, it was so loud that the couple two seats away from them turned with concerned expressions on their faces.

“Give— give up? What are you talking about?” Jungkook exclaimed, flustered.

“Shut up, Kookie,” Mingyu interjected, imitating Jimin horribly by raising his voice an octave higher and prod his arm with his finger. “We all know what Seokmin’s talking about.”

“Yeah, now I just have to inform the others in the group…” Khunpimook muttered, fingers vigorously typing on the keypad of his phone.

“Oi, OI! DON’T YOU DARE—”

♡

“You seem to be enjoying drawing a lot.”

“Hm?” Jungkook flushed, instantly covering the book with his arms. It was completely useless though, as Jimin had seen his horrid drawings of muscle bunny.

He was sitting in front of Jungkook with his chin resting on one hand, head tilted slightly as he smiled. “Are you applying for art when you’re entering Uni? You’re good at it. Although… I couldn’t really tell what sort of creature that was.”

“It’s Cooky,” he muttered, face scarlet with embarrassment.

The only people who had seen his drawings were his circle of friends and like the jerks they were, they made fun of it. Not that Jungkook really minded, it was not as if he was doing it seriously.

“Cooky…?”

He caught onto his confusion quickly and added, “He has a face of a rabbit and human body.”

Jungkook begged his mouth to stop betraying him. If his friends would not understand what Cooky was, how would Jimin? It was only the third time they ever talked, and they were not on that level of friendship yet (honestly, Jungkook did not want to be friends with Jimin) ((He wanted to be more, but Jungkook did not know that yet)), so why did he felt a little bit excited to talk about his child to Jimin?

Jungkook looked down on his art before closing the book.

A hint of smile glinted at Jimin’s lips, almost as if he found Jungkook to be endearing.

“And no, I’m not going to take art. Father would want me to take business. He knew I hated science.”

“Hm.” Jimin exhaled loudly through his nose, changing his other hand for him to rest his chin on. “Why would you want to take business? No offence to Mr. Jeon, but he’s not the one who’s going to study at the university, isn’t he?”

Jungkook twisted his lips to the sides a bit and slouched. “Father was right… art’s not going to bring me anywhere. Not here, anyway.”

Jimin smiled fondly and Jungkook hated the way he wore the smile on his face. It made his insides turn and his heart beat accelerating painfully as if he was running a marathon. He did not like how hard his heart pounded, how his mind blanked out when Jimin did that.

“You’re wrong. Your father’s wrong too.”

Jungkook was taken aback by his blunt statement, but made nothing to interrupt him.

“You love drawing and I can see that you’re good at it. If you really enjoy it, I think you should go for it. Perhaps you could take it as your minor subject,” Jimin suggested. “Besides, you can earn money by drawing too, you know. My friend’s a webcomic artist, I could ask her for help if you’d like.”

“Really?” He could not contain the excitement in his voice, only for the small light of hope he was holding to disappear completely in the darkness when it dawned to him that he had no time to be horsing around. “That’s nice of you, but I have exams to think about.”

“Yeah, and yet here you are, drawing half-man half-bunny and me.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise as he took a sharp intake of breath. After screaming internally, he asked with a shock, “W-what? L-look, no, it’s not—”

Jungkook’s face was as red as the apron he was wearing, trying his hardest to explain but he could only sputter indignantly which gave Jimin a spark of satisfaction as he smirked.

Seeing Jimin sardonically grin made him took a deep breath and berated himself to stop vomiting whatever words he could find inside his brain. Two deep breaths later, he managed to calm himself though his cheeks were still tainted red.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, okay. I drew everyone,” Jungkook explained, ears burned hot. His eyes skipped around the room; everywhere but not Jimin’s eyes. “I tend to draw anyone on my line of sight when I’m bored.”

“Does that mean I should get out of your line of sight then?”

Jungkook sighed exasperatedly, his cheeks turned a darker shade of red.

“I’m just kidding, Kookie. You’re so easily flustered,” Jimin giggled, getting up from his chair. “I was flattered for nothing then…” his voice drowned into a whisper, but Jungkook managed to hear it loud and clear.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he chirped. “Let’s go then. It’s almost eleven.”

♡

The one-week Jungkook’s father had been gone, Jungkook learnt a lot of things.

Things like the courses Jimin took in Uni. (He was a math major while his minor was chemistry. Screams hell to Jungkook, to be honest.)

Things like how Jimin preferred strawberry over chocolate. (Jungkook found himself craving for the strawberry cupcake one night he was sketching comic panels about Cooky and Jimin happened to be making a batch on the next day.)

Things like how Jimin’s eyes crinkled at the corner when he smiled. (It was the most beautiful thing Jungkook had ever seen.)

He did not mind closing up late if it meant he could spend a little bit more time with Jimin. Being five minutes alone with Jimin would already sufficed. His sketchbooks were filled with pink colours, all which belonged to Jimin’s hair. He was extra careful when drawing Jimin now, often turning onto the next page to pretend he was sketching Cooky whenever Jimin was nearby. Jimin always gave him The Smile as if he knew what Jungkook was hiding.

A part of him hated how easily Jimin made him open himself up. Jungkook was shy to begin with, although he appeared to be stoic during first meetings, but he found himself telling his ideas to Jimin and Jimin was always supporting and assuring Jungkook his ideas mattered. His heart always felt full when Jimin praised him.

Instead of laughing to his face about how ridiculous his ideas of Cooky was, Jimin only smiled endearingly and asked if he could see more sketches of Cooky.

And when Jungkook lied on his bed in the middle of the night, eyes wide awake as he stared at the ceiling and head filled with images of Jimin smiling like the pink-haired angel he was, this was the exact moment when Jungkook realised.

‘Shit, I’m in love.’

♡

“You’re in WHAT?”

“Quiet!” Jungkook hissed, slapping the back of Yugyeom’s neck.

“Son of a bitch, it hurts!” Yugyeom whined, rubbing the wounded area before punching Jungkook on his arm.

“That’s what you get for being loud!”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes in annoyance and winced. “Motherfucker,” he muttered under his breath. He glanced at Jungkook before grinning and nudging his best friend playfully. “So, it was true, huh? What Khunpimook said in the group?”

“That was not true. Jimin was certainly not my—”

“You and Seokmin should fight to the death for Jimin’s honour.”

“Kim Yugyeom,” Jungkook sighed, stopping to place a hand on Yugyeom’s shoulder dramatically. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Yugyeom shrugged his hand off his shoulder. “What do you plan to do then? Just watch him creepily from afar like the King of Creep Land you are?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook whispered in defeat. “What do people do with their feelings? Puke their feelings out and flush them down the toilets?”

“If it was that easy, Mingyu would have been over Jeonghan now,” Yugyeom murmured.

“Unhelpful, Kim Yugyeom.”

“As if you have better ideas.”

“I think… I think I actually do.”

Jungkook had never spent so much time and effort doing something before in his whole life. The pocket money he received from his father was spent on high quality pens now rather than the video game he was dreading to play.

Each stroke was perfectly thought of, and he was careful when choosing the colours.

It might seem stupid but he thought it will be worth it.

It had to be.

♡

Jimin’s shift started a little later after six as his class ended around five. He greeted their regulars with the same smile and enthusiasm, and occasionally he glanced to the seat near to the counter to find it was empty. It had been days since Mr. Jeon arrived from his trip which meant it was unnecessary for Jungkook to be there as he was not in charge with closing down the café anymore.

Still, Jimin hoped Jungkook would stop by to say hi. Sometimes he would come by during lunch with his funny group of friends, but Jimin would be in Uni then. He gathered this information from Somin, who was more than glad to share anything Jungkook related to Jimin. He could not stand the teasing, but Somin might be right on this: he did like Jungkook.

(“He’s a kid, Somin,” Jimin protested with a pout.

“He’s eighteen, Jimin,” Somin countered back with an eyeroll. “Besides, he’ll be your junior in Uni next year.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Yeah? Then give my boy some love. I think he likes you too.”

“Somin!”)

Jimin turned red at the memory of Somin insisting that Jungkook liked him too. At the start, Jimin just wanted to be on the boss’ son good side but their little talks got a little bit more interesting as time passed by and Jungkook always made him smile more than he was supposed to. He loved Jungkook’s creativity, how he wanted to make another world of half-men and half-bunnies and he absolutely, terribly, deeply in love with how concentrated and serious Jungkook was when it comes to drawing.

Jimin was brought back to reality when he heard a familiar yet small “hi”. He turned to find Jungkook was in front of him, hands fiddling with what seemed like a new sketchbook. He would be lying if he said his world did not brighten up even the slightest.

(Because it did. Jungkook always made his day better.)

“Hey,” he said, a little too excited. He cleared his throat in an attempt to tone down his excitement and repeated, lowering his voice down a little, “Hey.”

“Uh, well, I-I’ll have the usual,” he stammered.

“Alright,” Jimin chirped. “Long time no see, Kookie.”

“I know, haha, I’ve been so busy.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Can’t drop by to say hi?”

For some unexplainable reason, Jungkook choked on air and struggled to let the words out of his mouth. Jimin chuckled, shaking his head at how flustered Jungkook became. “You know I was joking, right. You’re busy, I get it. I’ll get you your drink in a sec.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook murmured.

Just as he grabbed the ceramic cup, Somin came to poke Jimin on his side and squealed. “So, what did he say? Did he say he love your eyes or your beautiful smile? I always knew Jungkook was a romantic! That boy may look like a stone, but he’s cheesier than cheese. If that makes any sense.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, huffing. “No. He just came by to draw again, I think.”

“Draw you, you meant?”

“It was only one time, Somin. He only drew me once, I’m pretty sure he draws you too.”

“He does, actually. He draws everyone. I think that’s just creepy,” Somin shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cute.”

“Love makes us blind,” Somin sighed dramatically.

“I’m not—”

Somin cut his sentence of with feign enthusiastic “Talk to you later!” as she skipped to the register to take a customer’s order.

When Jimin brought Jungkook’s hot chocolate to him, the boy appeared restless. His foot was tapping vehemently while he was staring intensely on the cover of the notebook. He almost jumped in surprise when Jimin placed his drink on his table, making Jimin almost felt sorry for startling him like that.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks, uh, Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook glanced at the wall clock and murmured, “I… I wanna talk to you.”

Jimin was bewildered at Jungkook’s sudden change of behaviour. It was always Jimin who approached Jungkook first, who struggled to make a conversation because Jungkook always replied with a word or two. He was elated that it was Jungkook who wanted to interact this time.

“Sure,” Jimin conceded, glimpsing on his wrist watch. Ten minutes until closing time. “Ten minutes, alright? I gotta work.”

“Okay.”

It was the longest ten minutes of Park Jimin’s life.

He was excited and scared at the same time of what to come. From his observation (aka stealing glimpses of Jungkook through the break room’s window), Jungkook was only drinking his hot chocolate rather than drawing. He seemed to be staring at the clock a lot too.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Jimin muttered to himself, excitement surging through his veins when it was only one more minute until ten.

What was Jungkook going to say? He could not come up with a reason to assure himself that it was nothing serious but from Jungkook’s nervous expression, Jimin’s head can only conjure the worst-case scenarios possible.

What if Jungkook chose to drop out of college because of Jimin’s talk? He knew he should have kept his mouth shut. Now, he was going to get fired for causing the drop out of Mr. Jeon’s son and he would have to find another part time job.

Or what if it was even more serious than dropping out? Maybe Jungkook wanted to run away to become a cartoonist and wanted Jimin’s help to find somewhere to live.

Or what if Jungkook had a terminal illness —

His freaking out session was interrupted when his watch gave a little noise, signalling it was already ten. He glimpsed through the window to see Jungkook was still there.

“Oh my god,” he whispered to himself. “I’m going to ruin his and my life.”

“What the fuck are you muttering to yourself about?” Chanyeol interjected.

“Nothing,” Jimin answered, a little too quick that it raised suspicion and Chanyeol’s eyebrow. Chanyeol focused his gaze to where Jimin was staring and his lips quirked into a smile.

“Ooh, I see now. Go get it, lover boy.”

“Shut the fuck up, no one’s getting anything tonight.”

“Well, I do. I’m gonna get fucking la—”

“I don’t wanna know.”

Anxious? Totally.

Scared? To the very.

While Jimin preferred for them to be talking alone, he felt relief that there were still customers around.

With shaky fingers, he pulled the chair and sat in front of Jungkook. “Hey.”

“H-hey.”

Jimin cleared his throat, shifting in his chair and hoped his nervousness was not evident when he said, “So… what do you wanna talk about?”

Jungkook sniffed, staring at his fingernails when he spoke.

“As you know, I’m terribly bad at expressing myself with words.”

Oh my god.

“So, I hope this would be enough,” Jungkook murmured, sliding the sketchbook to Jimin.

Jimin scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, slowly looking up to Jungkook only for to Jungkook look away when their eyes met. The cover of the sketchbook was dark blue, different from the usual black one Jungkook brought.

He was hesitant at first and when he turned to the first page, the worries dissipated into thin air.

Jimin’s eyes grew bigger, fingertips grazing lightly against the paper. On top of the page was written ‘First Night’ with a date written in smaller size underneath it. Jimin did not know what it was at first until his eyes travelled south to see four comic panels drawn by Jungkook.

The first panel was a drawing of the first hot chocolate Jimin made him. The text box next to it read:

Jimin snickered, not daring to look up to Jungkook. The next panel was a drawing of the strawberry cupcake Jimin made for him with a lot of tiny little red hearts surrounding it. Jimin could not help but cracked a smile at the adorable drawing.

He moved to the next panel which had a drawing of both of them sitting on the table. Jimin took his time admiring it, he knew Jungkook spent a lot of time trying to perfect it. He captured the colour of Jimin’s hair perfectly, although he exaggerated a little by drawing sparkles and flowers next to Jimin’s face.

Jimin could feel his cheeks heating up when he read it. He was not sure how he could look up to Jungkook now. In his defence, Jimin did not flirt, never did anyways, not to Jungkook. “That incident” Jungkook was referring to had to be that time Jimin wiped the frosting off Jungkook’s lip – he swore it was accidental, that it was just his reflex. He had no idea it had such an effect on Jungkook.

The last panel had a sketch of Jimin smiling. It made Jimin’s heart all warm and as Taylor Swift said it, all he felt “in his stomach was butterflies”.

His finger lingered on the drawing of him longer than it should and just as he was about to look up to Jungkook to say a few words, Jungkook panicked. “That’s not the end! Turn! Turn to the next page… please…” his voice drowned into a whisper and he coughed to mask his embarrassment.

Jimin could feel his heart on his throat and jaw dropped in amazement when he revealed the next page. The top panel was a drawing of Jungkook being flustered with two think bubbles drawn on top of his head. The first think bubble had a doodle of small building labelled ‘uni’ while the next think bubble had a doodle of pencil.

Jimin was smiling so much that it began to hurt but he did not care.

The bottom panel was much bigger than any of the panels Jungkook created. It was a drawing of Jimin’s backside view. This had to be Jimin’s favourite because of the radiant colours and little glitters Jungkook added to the pages; it was different than the others as this one had longer texts on the text box situated on the left corner of the panel.

“Wow… Kookie… I…” Jimin murmured, reading the words over and over again. He gulped and blinked to clear the mistiness from his eyes. To say he was touched would be understatement because the drawings were beautiful, the drawings of Jimin were wonderful and it dawned to him that this was how Jungkook saw him.

The next page had a doodle of Jungkook making a heart shape using his hands and the text below said:

“Holy shit,” Jimin muttered, bewilderment was evident on his face. He looked at Jungkook, whose face was scarlet in embarrassment.

Jungkook had to force himself to look at Jimin straight into his eyes, determined to make Jimin know how sincere he was. Clearing his throat, he spoke. “I like you, Jimin.”

“J-Jungkook—”

“It’s okay if you can’t return my feelings. Just as a reminder, I am Mr. Jeon’s son, which meant I can come here whenever I please until you like me back—”

Jimin erupted into fits of giggles, his crescent eyes appearing as his body vibrated.

“— I’m serious,” Jungkook exclaimed with a pout, face turning even redder than before.

At this, his giggles turned into laughter. Jungkook pouted, crossing his arms together.

“Are you done?” Jungkook asked scathingly as he watched Jimin wiping a tear away from his eye.

“You don’t- you don’t have to make me like you just because you like me.”

Jungkook frowned.

“The feeling’s mutual, dummy.”

Jungkook’s mouth dropped to the floor. His brain chose to repeat Jimin’s sentence over and over again and when he finally registered it, he clamped his huge mouth shut. “Oh.”

“Mmhm.”

“Oh. Uh. Really?”

“Really.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“I like like you. Are you sure you like like me too?” Jungkook asked slowly, emphasizing the like.

Jimin let out an exasperated sigh. “I do.”

“So…” Jungkook murmured, daring to look abashed as he scratched his nape. “Are we boyfriends now or…?”

Jimin giggled. “Sure, if that’s what you wanna call me.”

“You do know that means you’re mine right? Like, really mine. You can’t smile to Seokmin anymore, he always has the hots for you. No smiling at the customers either, that one regular was always eying you whenever she’s here. She’s so creepy, ugh—”

“As if you’re not staring at me either.”

“Oi.”

“I’m joking, chill!”

“What have I gotten myself into…” he sighed, staring helplessly at Jimin. Jimin only gave him a smile.

“Somin was right.”

“About what?”

“You’re cheesier than cheese.”

“What the fuck does that even mean…”

♡

“Damn it, I really wanna see what’s inside that book!” Somin grumbled, tiptoeing to peek at Jungkook and Jimin through the glass on the break room.

“You’re such a weirdo, Somin. I should’ve called the police,” Chanyeol muttered.

“Is it okay for us to stare at them like this?” Yoonji fretted.

“Shut u— LOOK AWAY LOOK AWAY THEY CAUGHT US STARING.”

#busanboysnet #jikook #kookmin #jikook fanfic #kookmin fanfic #kfk:oneshot

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mrburger · 7 years ago

Text

Merrick Alone

On a little balcony outside the managers’ office, Duane and Merrick are interrupted by a spider as it crawls along the railing Merrick is leaning on. Duane moves to kill it, but Merrick stops him.

“I got this,” Merrick says determinedly.

Merrick draws the last sip of lemon water from his employee cup and pops the lid off. He puts the lid and straw in one pocket of his apron and from another pulls out a dessert menu. He sets the mouth of the cup carefully onto the spider’s path and rests its lip just in front of where the critter has stopped on the railing. Both Duane and Merrick wait a long moment to see if perhaps the spider will crawl in on its own. It does not. So Merrick enlists the dessert menu, gently nudging the spider once from behind toward the cup. The spider freaks out. And instead of going into the cup, it flees sideways, disappearing around the underside of the railing. Merrick flinches at the sudden disappearance and fumbles a haphazard attempt to capture the bug some other way. His cup clocks the railing. His dessert menu scrapes haplessly. The spider is long gone, having dropped away from the railing on an emergency thread.

“Where’d it go?” asks Duane. Merrick gives him a beleaguered look. Duane pretends not to notice. “Oh well,” he chuckles. “I commend you for trying. I’d have just killed it.”

“Probably would have been a good idea. What if a guest sees it now? What if it crawls up onto someone’s table?”

“Nah,” Duane says, his mind already venturing elsewhere. “Spiders ain’t like that.”

He and Merrick bend over the railing and peer down at the bug’s descent. Its long legs dangle carefully on its way down. It drops in little starts and stops.

“Hey can I ask you a question?” Duane asks.

“I love questions,” Merrick answers out of habit, but then tenses up when he realizes Duane is struggling to choose his next words. Merrick for just a split second is distracted by how differently they are dressed. Finally, the question.

“Why is it that you want to manage so badly?”

Merrick groans reflexively. It’s a question he’s asked himself so many times he almost forgets he’s standing in front of his boss as he hears it. Then he blinks, and he looks right at Duane.

“I want to help.”

“But what does you managing help?”

Merrick’s cheeks go pink.

“What does me managing help?” Merrick repeats acidly. Duane’s eyes widen as he realizes he's said the wrong thing.

“Oh no, dude,” Duane soothes. “That’s not what I meant! I didn’t mean what does you managing help!” He fusses with his watchband as he stammers out an apology. “I’m sorry, man.”

Merrick feels at his own wrist. He can’t wear a watch while he’s on the clock. Biga gave him one for Christmas, and it matches his wedding ring, but he can’t wear it.

“What did you mean?” Merrick finally asks.

“I just meant, like,” Duane gathers his next few thoughts into a big pile, squares them up, then sets to work carefully re-attempting to share them. “I just meant that, like, I manage, and I’m a ‘manager,’ but I don’t feel like I ‘help.’ I feel like I try to help, but I don’t feel like I help like how you seem to mean you want to. I feel like I help individuals sometimes, sure. I help insofar as I am, like, a helpful sort of guy. But it’s not as if before I came here the other managers badly needed my help. I only help insofar as it’s my job to help and because I find it easy to be helpful. I’m not the kind of help you, like, need. And like with you, if I say it’s not necessarily like we need you, it’s not because I’m some proud callous asshole who’s made this sweeping judgment about your utility, it’s me relating and saying, like, maybe you’re just not seeing this like how you see it once you become a manager. You know?”

“No,” Merrick answers thinly. He shakes his head a moment, closes his eyes. Then he comes back.

“Actually yes,” Merrick answers. “Sorry, I do know. You feel helpless. Even though you help so much, you feel like you don’t really help. So why would I want that for myself? Right? Like you’re asking, why can’t I just see how pointless it is to want to ‘help?’” Merrick mimics Duane’s air quotes. “You’re trying to protect me.”

“I guess? I might be. I don’t know.”

“Well, fuck you, man. I respect you, I like you, we get each other. But when I say, ‘I want to help,’ you must know I mean it. I appreciate you checking my moors, to see if maybe I’m deluded. I see how that’s kind of your way of worrying about me. But I also see it as you projecting, big-time, your own feelings of helplessness in this stressful ... monotonous ... banal—sorry—I mean, like, don’t you feel like you need help? Don’t you really, though? Can’t you admit that? You are helpful and kind, and you undersell yourself if you think the other managers don’t need you for that, but everything you’ve just told me tells me … when no one’s around, and it’s just you, don’t you whimper quietly to yourself that you wish you had help?”

Duane doesn’t answer, but he does look at Merrick in a strange way.

“You’ve fallen for the wrong worldview, Duane. I do, too, sometimes. I forget everybody here’s wrong, sometimes. The monkey in me is fooled, I guess, by the other monkeys all thinking the same thing together. But I just have to close my eyes and shake my stupid monkey head and forcibly remember the real truth.” Merrick does this as he speaks, in slow-motion like he’s showing Duane how to do it. Then he opens his eyes again and looks right at him.

“You bring something the other managers can’t. And each of them does, too, their own thing. But none of you sees yourselves like this, or if you do then you’re only half-looking. If you do, you only barely acknowledge the pretty part of the picture, and instead obsess over the ugly part. You spend the vast majority of your time contemplating the unique ways in which each of you will never fit the role of manager, yourselves included. You meditate on reasons not to admire the others and yourself. You talk friendly to each other’s faces, but privately resent each other. And yourself.

“Duane, you suck, is a thing I admit I sometimes say."

“Me too, if we’re being honest. None of you will ever become the best. No one ever does that. The best managers don’t exist. And what few who come close do didn’t become the way they are, they just are themselves. Sure they had to learn some stuff along the way, fuck up here and there, but the hardest things come somehow naturally to them. And when they fuck up, they fuck up better than you or me or anyone else. And you know what? Fuck ‘em! If we had that person on our team, great, that’d be great. But we don’t. We are an embittered team of misunderstood failures. And we need to start acting like one! Or I mean, you guys do, sorry.”

Duane clearly doesn’t mind.

“As weird as it sounds,” Merrick continues, “You’ve got to quit telling yourselves you can all get better. The trick to actually doing better is to be honest with yourselves and admit that you will never get better. Though I won’t say there’s no such thing as the perfect manager, I will say you will never be it. Far easier to become, if you’d just learn to be comfortable with yourselves, is the perfect team of managers. The perfect stable of talent and weakness, with everyone doing what they’re best at, and no one doing what they’re worst at. The perfect combination of imperfect managers.”

Merrick and Duane have at some point relocated to Duane’s car. Merrick talks in the front seat while Duane takes random turns through a neighborhood, listening. When Merrick finishes his last thought, he takes to staring off into space. Duane gets him going again.

“But so what is the perfect combination, then? Have you actually read about this or are you just, like, free-styling here?”

“I’m doing both,” Merrick nods. “I’m sort of tinkering, here, I admit, but nothing I’m saying isn’t supported by good science. Forgive me for not citing my sources, but if it helps I can name some reputable ones: BBC, NPR, Yale, an old text—”

“I don’t need your bibliography. Just tell me what you think our management team needs to be perfect, or whatever. Is this where you’re saying you come in? Do you complete us?”

“Come on,” Merrick says. “I don’t know. I know I could at least bring this new way of looking at things. Or I could share my framework, or something, I guess? I don’t know!”

“Don’t doubt yourself now, Merrick!” Duane chides, somewhat distractedly as he makes a left turn through a stop sign. Merrick can’t tell if Duane totally believes in him, but assumes the best and continues.

“OK, let me see if I can put this the right way. So I see it as you’ve got this managerial ideal you each aspire to, like I said. And it’s made you resentful of each other, because you see each other as falling short. And each of you does fall short. But none of you talks about it, because it’d be just the worst thing ever to drag this out into the open now, so late in the game. But that’s exactly what I’m saying you gotta do. You all gotta stop seeing yourselves as a random group of incomplete managers. You need to know when to pass each other the ball. Which I mean, means you need to know when to be humble. You need to know when Brittany could do something better than you, and then let her handle it, and she needs to be cool with letting you do this. Your team needs to let you not do things you can’t handle. And you need to let your teammates not do things you can handle especially well. There has to be that tolerance, that mercy, that respect, all at once, all the time. Basic teamwork buzzwords, I know, but they do matter.”

“They do,” Duane agrees.

And now for just a second Merrick remembers he is alone at his computer, typing this all up into Microsoft Word. Duane is at work, managing another Meatball Monday. Neither has spoken to the other much lately. Merrick misses Duane, or at least this version of him he’s talking to now.

“Do you mind if I hit this?” Merrick asks, pulling his own private pipe inexplicably out of Duane’s glove compartment.

“Only if you promise to share,” Duane says. Merrick acquiesces.

Through a lungful of smoke, he grunts, “Do. You. Get. What I’m saying?”

Duane gives him the hold on a sec finger and takes his own deep hit. Then he holds it a sec, makes a sickly face—nothing to worry about, it’s the face he always makes—and finally exhales a tremendous plume of yellowy smoke.

“You mean Voltron.”

“Eh?”

“Voltron. You mean we are the Thundercats but we haven’t we realized we can turn into Voltron.”

“Oh! Yeah, I guess that’s what I mean.”

“But you’re saying we’re missing a Thundercat? Our Voltron doesn’t have a head? And you’re that Thundercat?”

“I’m not saying I’m the head, or even that I’m a Thundercat. I’m saying I’ve seen Thundercats, though, and studied the show inside and out, and can maybe help you guys discover how to, like, form Voltron. This … metaphor’s a little too perfect.”

“I’m thinking you’re a Thundercat, dude. You’re the long-lost Thundercat who, in our darkest hour, we refuse to admit we need. But who will save us.”

“If you say so, Duane.”

“I SAY SO. And I’m your boss.”

“Aye, captain. Well hey, thanks for the endorsement. Now if only your opinion meant shit to the other managers. To that goddamn sociopath.”

“He is seeing a licensed cognitive behavioral therapist.”

“And he doesn’t give a shit about me.”

“He does, too. In his way.”

“Well, whatever. He’s flawed, which is fine. He’s just part of an uncoordinated group of mecha-lions. But what’s not fine,” Merrick sighs heavily, really, painfully, “Is this.”

“What? Wait, what’s ‘this?’”

“This, I mean,” says Merrick, pointing at the car, the road, the pipe in his own hands. “I’m alone in my apartment, Biga’s in bed, it’s almost midnight, and none of what you think is happening right now is happening.”

“Oh come on,” Duane scoffs. “You really think that matters?”

“It feels like it does.”

“I tell you what. Next time I see The Sociopath, I’ll tell him what you told me.”

“NO. DON’T.”

“Naw, naw, I will. He and I are cool. I’ll tell him the Voltron thing. I’ll tell him you’re a Thundercat, and that we need you to complete our Voltron.”

“I’m not a Thundercat.”

“You know you are. You think you’re not one, which is what makes you the coolest one of all.”

“That’s such a ham-fisted trope.”

“It’s the ham-fisted truth, my brother. Listen to me. I don’t care that this isn’t real. I don’t care! I like the way this is just fine, just like I like you. You can sit in your little smoke-cloud of misery and self-pity and, like, imagining that me not literally being with you means you’re painfully and incurably alone, but know this. You are not incurably alone. I still exist. We will reunite some day. I am your friend and it is my solemn duty to do that. I know we haven’t spoken in awhile. I know I’m gone, to you, vanished past the far bank of some river you think is a promotion, and that we haven’t talked in way too long, but I will talk to you again someday. I am your friend. I do say nice things about you to The Sociopath. You’re right, I can’t actually tell him any of the things you’ve told me today, but know that if I could, I would. I do it in spirit. Sort of. I—I, like …”

And Merrick loses the train of thought. Duane’s face kind of ceases to mean, his mannerisms become false, and for a moment Merrick resumes feeling like he’s talking to himself.

He closes his eyes. He shakes his stupid monkey head.

“Can I ask you a question?” Duane asks him.

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