#i hate when shows do body swap and it’s just the original characters voice in the other characters body . that is so not creative
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flaphack · 3 months ago
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everyone fumbles a body swap episode . except notably dungeons and daddies
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castlesinitialthoughts · 8 months ago
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Tiny Toons: Spring Break initial thoughts
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So a little while back the Tiny Toons reboot officially launched and I tried giving it a shot and remembered being turned off by the voices being too deep. But was looking for shit to watch and this showed up so I decided to give it another shot. So let’s see if this manages to win me over, if it does maybe I’ll check out the series proper. Okay so right off the bat this feels… off. The animation feels kinda restrained, like they’re trying to imitate the style of the golden age shorts but are limited by the software or budget, maybe both. This has been a problem with most modern looney tunes reboots, the most successful project was still 2011’s “The Looney Tunes Show” because it updated the design and humor of the characters to fit a modern audience rather than just trying to re-do the old style. The humor that made kids laugh in the 40s won’t necessarily work today, which is why in 2011 they updated it to the far more dialogue focused humor that was more familiar to today’s audience. This was even expanding on the original shorts dialogue based humor. An ideal Tiny Toons reboot would redesign them in a way to play to the strengths of the software they’re using and update the humor more. Plucky voice still sounds too deep to me. So does Babs’ actually. Wait are they like supposed to be college students cause of the whole university thing? That’s.. weird, they don’t look or act like it, I always just assumed it was some sort of boarding school. Oh right Buster and Babs are siblings, rip to the “no relation” running gag. Plucky’s deep voice is still throwing me out of it. Is Hampton always southern? Wait I think he is, I thought he was doing it for one joke but is he actually southern. The voices are all throwing me off, like Plucky and Babs sound way too old, and Hampton’s southern is a bit too much. lol eat shit Plucky. Okay Plucky’s VA is actually doing pretty well, I think I just need to get used to the deep voice.
Hampton could be doing well but that accent just… eh.
Okay Hamptons doing better, what I’ve gathered is that the VAs are all good but they should not be voicing these specific characters.
I hate the trope that is being used for the Buster/Babs/Plucky subplot. This is mid, never seen something that is so mid. Like it’s so average, the writing feels like one of those kids shows you see when flipping through channels or in the doctors waiting room, or like one you catch airing in the hotel room in like the middle of it and don’t mind because you’re not really invested and it’s just something to keep you busy when you’re bored. Replacing Shirley with the pink bird thing as a main character was a mistake, especially considering how stereotypical pink bird thing is. Walking trope.
oh my god we’re halfway through do not introduce a body swap plotline.
So they are in college… that’s so weird.
This is the most mind numbing experience of my life. The brother bunny is the most interesting part. 11 minutes left, ugggggggggghhhhhhhh.
You know shits bad when I have heard absolutely no winning from conservatives about wokeness when two moms shows up. welp that’s over. Super mid, did not give me any incentive to watch the show. Never getting that hour of my life back.
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prettybi4ajedi · 1 year ago
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First Article I guess; and it's about Body Swaps in TV
I've developed a deep love for body swap episodes in TV, because it's so fucking fun to watch actors have to play each others characters after they've been established and imbued with the original actors quirks. I'm rewatching The Good Place and just got to the "Everyone Goes to the Void and Accidentally Becomes Janet" episode and watching D'Arcy Carden play everyone is one of the most delightful things ever. This one is probably my favorite. I also like when it happens in Glee, when Tina is Rachel. My least favorite is The Owl House, even though that's one of my favorite shows; it felt like a waste of a body swap episode. That's not to say you can't get the results I like in animation; Gravity Falls fucking SLAYS animated bodyswap in Carpet Diem. Not only do we get another tick in the 'Grenda is trans' headcannon/canon/I don't know what's been confirmed but I'm confident it was intended and I'll meet Disney in a Denny's parking lot to fight about it; but every time characters swap bodies, even if it's brief, there are consequences. Even if it's just a character saying 'ah, this body is different from my body and here's how I feel about it.' In The Owl House, the characters designs change maybe slightly by adding or removing things like eyelashes to denote perceived gender, the voices don't change at all, and the entire storyline focuses on switching back without any real reflections on the fact that they're all in bodies of completely different types of beings. I know we don't find out King's heritage til later, but there's enough foreshadowing that I'm confident the creators knew that he was what he was from day one, and that could have been a very interesting opportunity to lean into it a little bit. I feel like a body swap episode should thematically be a perspective swap episode, and considering how strong TOH is thematically, and how well they handle difficult and breakthrough topics, I have to admit I was a little disappointed with that episode. Maybe it would have been better if it was done in a later episode when we understood the characters better, so the contrast between experiences would have been stronger, but like- TOH is probably my favorite show. I, a blue haired, glasses wearing recently-out nonbinary person saw my first nonbinary person in media with Raine Whispers, in what has become my personal favorite episode of TV ever. (Eda's Requiem). I have King Clawthorne holding Francois tattooed on my right forearm, and he brings me joy every day. I'm not hating on it and I want to make that clear. I just don't like how they do their body swap episode. It seems like such a trope; I feel like I've seen it in almost every show I've watched. But I do love the trope. I think it provides interesting opportunities and chances for character growth. Also I just got to the line in The Good Place where Jason says "Thanks Tahani. It's nice to know I can talk about girls with my wife." Love that light poly rep. Not related to the rest of this article I guess but that's probably just what the vibe of this blog will be. Mostly cause I just don't know how to end things. -Alex
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bakugoshrimp · 4 years ago
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Comfort
Where Y/N has a breakdown, and Bakugo helps.
Pairing: Bakugo x Female!Y/N 
Word Count: 1.3k words 
A/N: So uhh, I feel like i took a lot of creative liberties here, but yeahh. This is purely self indulgent and ngl, most likely OOC (Out of Character) Bakugo. It also might seem dramatic considering she had a breakdown over a single grade, but again, it’s purely self-indulgent and yes I imagined this whole thing to calm myself down . Please be nice, but constructive criticism is welcome! Also, I have no clue what universe they’re in but its like a mix between BNHA and our reality lmao. Also I might come back to this and fix up grammatical errors and anything that sounds weird, and change up the title bc I’m extremely uncreative help.
Song: Ribs by Lorde (I’m in a Lorde phase don’t mind me)
It was loud. Loud in your head, loud in your ears, just loud. You tried to stop the feeling of numbness, tried to drown out the screaming thoughts by quickly stuffing your earphones into your ears, and increasing the volume of the music blasting through your earphones, tried to ignore the pain in your heart. 
My mom and dad let me stay home; It drives you crazy, getting old; This dream isn't feeling sweet; We're reeling through the midnight streets;  And I've never felt more alone; It feels so scary, getting old;
You tried to stop the tears from spilling as the meaning of everything just hit you, hit you so hard it just left you reeling, as you tried to reel all the thoughts all the feelings back into your heart, just to get everything to stop. You just wanted everything to stop, you didn't wanna feel hurt anymore; didn't want to feel scared anymore didn't want to feel pain anymore; it was all just so exhausting. 
But your brain wouldn't listen to you; drowning you with the thoughts swirling so fast you can only understand fragments of them. You can barely remember what happened as you ran out of the class, and to your room; lights off as you just curled up under your blanket, cuddling your plushie so hard as you tried, and failed, to keep the tears from falling.
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It took him a total of 10 minutes for him to find you. He hadn't missed the heartbroken look on your face when they all received the marks for their weekly biology quizzes at the end of their class; hadn't missed the panic and exhaustion threading through your every movement for the month as you struggled to finish the overwhelming amount of assignments. 
He watched you as you waited until the classroom was empty when you tried to discretely flee to privacy, packing up your stuff as fast as you could, but not before he caught a glimpse of the big fat F scrawled on top. 
Cussing every single teacher under his breath, he jumped out of his seat. He knew you wanted to specialize in biology, and knew every single dream and worry you had, having spent nights just whispering to each other everything on nights you couldn't sleep from everything. 
He quickly followed you, knocking softly on the door to your room before slipping in, closing the door softly behind him because he knows how much you hate to cry in front of others; knows how much you hate showing this one weakness in front of others. You two were a lot alike in that regard. 
Crouching down in front of the bed, he uncovered your tear-stricken face from under the blanket, suppressing a wave of anger at everyone who made you cry. Your eyes were bloodshot, your eyelids swollen from all the tears.
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You flinched slightly at the cool air sitting your wet face, a sharp contrast to the suffocatingly humid temperature under the blanket. You already knew who it was, had memorized the sound of his footsteps, but didn't dare to look at him, scared of crying if you do. 
"Why am I such a failure?" your hoarse voice was the only sound in the still room, hands still gripped tightly around your plushie. 
Bakugo chuckled slightly, clambering into your bed and hugged you, your tears wetting his dry shirt. "I ask myself that too, you know. Why are you such a dumbass?" 
A strong rough hand, gently but firmly gripped your chin, making your watery eyes meet his soft and determined crimson eyes. "Y'know, maybe you're a dumbass, but that doesn't make you a failure." 
"But I'm failing everything. This fricking course-"
"Two quizzes and an essay does not mean everything. You still have time, and you will still excel. And you can say f**ck you to those who say otherwise. So you bombed this quiz; that doesn't mean it's the end of the world for you. So many people around the world fail, but those experiences will only make them stronger and more fierce than ever." He said fiercely, fire red eyes burning into yours. "Why do you think we train so much? It's to make us make mistakes, and to learn from them." 
His warm lips touched your forehead in an endearing kiss, and added, "If you want, I can blow them out of the sky for you." 
You let out a watery giggle, and took a shuddering breath, inhaling his caramel scent and cologne. 
"So what do you do now?" Bakugo asked, after a few minutes of quiet contemplation. 
You simply burrowed your head further into his chest, your voice muffled as you said "I don't wanna do anything; I just wanna sleep here with you forever." 
Bakugo threw his head back as he barked out a rough laugh. "You and I know that's not possible, teddy bear. Plus would you let this one puny mark beat you down? Come on, you and I both know you're much stronger than that." 
"No I'm not." was your only reply. 
At that, Bakugo rolled off the bed, snatching the plushie from your arms as he stood up, the sudden loss of his body heat and the comforting weight of said plushie from your arms eliciting a whine. 
"Give it back," you whined, making grabby arms in Bakugo's general direction as you shoved your face into your pillow. 
"Nope, not until you admit to yourself that you're a much stronger person than you give yourself credit for," Bakugo demanded. 
"But that would be lying, and you hate lying." You accused, shooting up and turning around to face him. 
He simply leaned in, close enough that your noses are almost touching. "That's why you wouldn't be lying. Say it, or the stupid ugly thing gets it." To prove his point, tiny explosions crackled off his unoccupied hand.
"Hey!" you protested "it's not stupid nor ugly; it's just old. Stop bullying it." 
"Then say it." 
"Fine. I'm a strong person. Happy?" 
"Say it with conviction and believe in it too, dumbass." 
You let out a deep sigh, rolling your eyes as you said "I'm a strong person, and I won't let some puny stupid marks break me down because I'm much better than that." 
Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he leaned in and pecked your lips as he threw the plushie onto your bed. "Now get up. We have our chem lab report due midnight and I still haven't started mine, and I know you didn't start yours yet." 
You grumbled as you stood up and stretched, "I hate school." 
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Bonus:
Bakugo grumbled over the stove, stirring the noodles as a delicious smell wafted around the mini kitchen. You were sitting on the counter nearby, hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate (it was originally black tea but Bakugo had swapped it quick so you would be able to sleep tonight), legs swinging slightly as you drifted away in your thoughts.
The explosive blonde turned around, smacking you back to reality with his wooden spoon. “Oi dumbass, stay with me here.”
He was well aware of your ability to dwell on past mistakes, even after your tears were long dried, which was the only reason why he decided to let you bully him into making fried noodles at 11 pm after both of you had successfully submitted your assignments.
You jolted back into reality, blinking at him. “Yeah I’m here don’t worry, ‘Suki”
He merely hmphed before turning to the stove, turning it off before separating the hot food into two different plates. Handing one to you, he gestured to the nearby table with his chin. After both of you finished your meals, a comfortable silence falling between you two as you simply enjoyed each others presence. Scooting your chair loudly to be next to his, you smacked your possibly greasy lips against his cheeks much to his disgust, and laid your head on his shoulder.
“ ’Suki?” you said, earning a questioning hrm from him. “Thank you.”
Ignoring the warm feeling blossoming in his chest, he simply slung an arm around you, pressing his lips to the side of your head in response.
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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 4 years ago
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it was always you (falling for me) - chapter 2
Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides Rating: Teen & up (for swearing) Relationships: Prinxiety, Moceit, and QPR Intrulogical (eventually this will develop into Intrulosleep!) Warnings: Language; Remus being Remus; Shakespeare fans will probably hate my interpretation(s) of the plays I reference here, if the English major friend I showed this to is anything to go by, and I’m very sorry about that 😂 Word Count: 9042
Read on AO3!
My writing masterpost
start - previous - here - next - masterpost
Summary: In a world where you and your soulmate swap dreams once a month, seven young adults enter the same college as freshmen. Each of them is wondering when they’ll find their soulmate and what that will mean for them.
Notes: Secret Santa gift for sanders-sides-fics!
Chapter 2
Roman had a problem. A person-shaped problem. Specifically, a problem shaped like his brother’s excessively pretty roommate, who seemed to take pleasure exclusively in needling Roman every chance they got.
Roman groaned, burying his face in one of the pillows on his bed.
“Hm?” his roommate, Patton, said sympathetically.
“I swear Virgil has, like, an agenda against soulmates, or something,” Roman said, rolling over and staring despairingly at the ceiling.
“Now, kiddo, I’m sure that’s not true.”
Roman lifted his head to look at Patton. “Aren’t I older than you?”
“Only by a few months,” Patton said serenely. “Spiritually, you’re my kiddo.”
“Pat, that makes no sense.”
Patton blinked up at him with a too-innocent face. “If it feels dad to you, just don’t think about it any father.”
“Oh my god.”
Patton giggled, a noise of pure delight, then circled back to Roman’s original topic. “What makes you think he’s got something against soulmates?”
“Uh, the way ze rails against them at every opportunity, for a start?” Roman sat up. “We have argued five times in the last two weeks about soulmates, and only three of them were even about Shakespeare like usual!”
“Haven’t you only known Virgil for, like, three weeks?”
“Well, yes, but that’s not the point.” Roman climbed down the ladder to the ground. “Also, I feel like that makes it worse?”
“Hmm, maybe.” Patton seemed amused. “You talk about them a lot, you know?”
“He’s so annoying!” Roman said defensively. “Ze gets this stupid smirk like ze knows something I don’t and he doesn’t even seem to care about constructing sound arguments half the time!” He put his laptop into his backpack.
“Going somewhere?” Patton asked.
“Yeah, Virgil and Remus invited me over to their dorm to study.”
“Oh,” Patton said, a funny sort of look on his face like he was trying not to laugh.
“What?” Roman asked.
“Nothing, nothing.” Patton waved him away, still smiling to himself. “Have fun studying with Virgil.”
“I will,” Roman said brightly, heading out the door.
***
“I want to go get ice cream,” Remus announced suddenly, hopping to his feet. “Who’s coming with?” It was late, almost midnight, and Roman was sitting on the floor in what had been a nice triangle with Remus and Virgil until Remus had stood. The three of them had been alternately working on homework and arguing about Disney characters.
“Sure,” Virgil said with a shrug, tugging their hoodie up onto their shoulders—they’d been wearing it dangling off their body, with only their wrists in the sleeves holding it on. “Let me fix my eyeliner first, though.”
Remus nodded distractedly, looking around the room and turning in a circle.
“Whatcha looking for?” Roman inquired, getting to his feet as well.
��My wallet,” Remus said, gaze still roving around. “I don’t know where I—”
“By your chapstick,” Roman said.
“Ah!” Remus dove under his desk, scrabbled on the floor, and emerged with his wallet clutched triumphantly in one hand and his chapstick in the other. “Thank you.”
“How the fuck did you know that?” Virgil asked, turning away from the mirror hung on the door with their eyeliner in their hand. They’d reapplied it to one eye, in a perfect, pointed wing; the other eye still had the only slightly less perfect, barely faded wing they’d been wearing this whole time. It matched their black lipstick and the carefully blended eyeshadow on their upper eyelids.
“He put it down there when he was telling the story about trying to collect dried gum off the street,” Roman explained. “And the chapstick was already there right next to it. So that’s how I remembered.”
Remus nodded. “I would have gotten there in a minute, probably,” he agreed.
“I still don’t understand how the fuck you knew that, but good for y’all, I guess,” Virgil said, turning back to the mirror.
“ADHD solidarity,” Roman explained.
Remus made finger guns at him, nodding. “ADHD solidarity,” he agreed.
Virgil paused halfway through drawing the other wing on. “Oh, that makes sense.” They picked up the line again, their hand perfectly steady, drawing it out to a fine point. “I thought you said you were autistic?” they added after a moment, their face holding perfectly still as they filled in the eyeliner with a practiced hand; their monolid eyelids allowed them to draw the wings of their eyeliner wide and dramatic.
“Yeah, I’m both. There are high rates of comorbidity, and also they’re both genetic, so neurodivergence runs in families,” Roman explained, the sentence rolling out of his mouth without him stumbling over the words once or having to think about it at all. “Did you know about ten percent of the population is probably ADHD?” he went on eagerly. “It’s super underdiagnosed. Especially because of race and gender biases in doctors who diagnose it, and the misconception that it’s only something children have. I only got diagnosed because Remus did when we were little, and we’re twins, so then they tested me too. Even though we aren’t identical. It’s super frequent for identical twins to both have ADHD if one of them has it, though.” Roman bounced on the balls of his feet, tapping the tip of his finger against his thumb. “I wish we were identical, I think it’d be so funny. Like, impersonating each other, and things. We could make such good video skits.”
“We make fantastic video skits already,” Remus protested.
“Okay, fair. But you know what I mean. And we could switch places for a day and see who noticed. All the stuff twins do in stories. Twins are always identical in stories, it’s so annoying, I wish there were more stories with fraternal twins.” Roman paused for a second, his mind hovering for an instant between a not-fully-realized train of thought about the gender politics of twin representation in stories and the question of what animals were most likely to have twins. He chose, almost before he was aware there was a choice, the animals question, his emotions nudging him away from the energy talking about gender representation would take up. “Do you think kittens dream?” he asked, only a second or two after he’d stopped talking in the first place.
“Yeah, probably,” Remus responded without missing a beat, likely following his train of thought. “Better question, do other animals have soulbonds, and how do they know if so?”
“Maybe it’s a scent thing,” Roman said thoughtfully.
“Ooh, like with glands or some shit?” Remus looked thoughtful. “That could make sense. I wonder—I bet there’s answers on the internet. I’m going to look this up later. Are you coming, too, by the way? To get ice cream?”
Roman thought it over. “Sure,” he agreed.
“I’m ready,” Virgil announced, capping their eyeliner and setting it down on hir desk. “Also, I got whiplash about five times just listening to that conversation.”
“Good, my chaos is overtaking another victim and soon I shall rule the world. Let’s go!” Remus led the other two out the door and started walking towards the end of campus.
“Where are we going, exactly?” Roman inquired, shoving his hands into the pockets of his red letterman jacket to keep them warm.
“There’s an ice cream shop that’s open till one in the morning about ten minutes away walking,” Remus said over his shoulder. “Logan and I found it the first weekend here.”
“You two went in search of sweets without me?” Roman put a hand to his heart. “I’m hurt,” he declared in his most dramatic voice.
“Oh, shut up, we would have gotten around to telling you about it eventually. I mean, I’m telling you right now, so.” Remus shrugged. “Virge, aren’t you cold?”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty, so it’s worth it,” Virgil said, tossing their head so the long hair on the top of their undercut swished. They were wearing a distressed band tee and a black skater skirt over fishnet leggings and a pair of doc martens. It was quite chilly out, and even though they were wearing a hoodie too, Roman understood why Remus had been concerned.
“You are very pretty,” Roman told them seriously. Even aside from their clearly carefully chosen outfit, this was true. Their eyes were round and curious and a captivating shade of dark brown. Even with the boost from the platform of the shoes they were wearing, they were tiny. Roman was sure they couldn’t be more than 5’2” without the boots. The hair on top of their undercut was very long, almost down to their waist, contrasting with the closely-shaved back and sides of their head. About six inches on the ends of their hair were dyed purple. Their makeup, of course, was flawless, as was their golden-brown skin, which was just a little bit darker than Roman’s. He made a mental note to ask them about their skincare routine sometime; no matter how much care he treated his skin with, the acne on his cheeks refused to go away. It was his least favorite side effect of taking testosterone. “But you can be pretty and warm at the same time, if you want. I hate being cold. But I respect your decision to be pretty and cold if you want to,” he added quickly.
Virgil let out a slightly nervous laugh, rubbing the back of their neck. “Thanks, I think.” Their eyes widened as they looked past him. “Oh, my god, Remus, shut up!”
“What?” Roman asked, looking over at Remus, who was giving Virgil an evil grin.
“Nothing,” Virgil snapped.
“I didn’t say anything,” Remus said innocently.
“Shut up!” Virgil repeated, flipping the hood of their hoodie up and dragging it over their face.
“What’s going on?” Roman asked, confused, while Remus burst into cackles of laughter.
“Nothing!” Virgil repeated with great emphasis.
Roman let out a sigh of frustration, but Virgil seemed genuinely upset about whatever Remus had done when Roman wasn’t looking, so he dropped it. Maybe Remus would explain later.
Remus did not explain later; however, he did turn around to walk backwards after the silence had stretched on long enough to become awkward. “Is the ocean a soup? Discuss,” he commanded.
“Oh, not this again!” Roman groaned. “No, absolutely not!”
“Yes,” Virgil said, almost as soon as Roman stopped talking.
“No!” Roman stamped his foot. “That makes no sense!”
“It makes lots of sense. Explain how it’s not soup,” Virgil challenged.
The resulting argument lasted them all the way to the ice cream shop and halfway through their treats.
“Aren’t you going to take a side?” Roman demanded of Remus at last.
Remus looked up from his cone. “Oh, no, this is very entertaining for me, I could watch you two bicker all month. Please keep it up.”
“You’re a terrible person,” Roman told him, trying not to laugh.
“I never claimed to be anything else,” Remus said happily.
***
“—and that’s how you do it. It’s really easy, but it’s so fun, I could balance chemical equations for hours,” Remus said, bopping the tip of his dry-erase marker against the giant whiteboard in the library for emphasis. He and Roman and Virgil had all met up here to study; it was a sunny afternoon, and they’d gotten a nice spot by the window. The marker left a little black mark next to the diagram Remus had spent the last ten minutes drawing; he wiped the dot away with his finger. He was wearing a turtleneck with horizontal black-and-white stripes and a pair of faded jeans with paint splatters all over them and huge rips in the front that ran from his mid-thighs almost down to his ankles; he’d finished the outfit off with socks in sandals and a black felt beret. His outfit—vaguely artistic, but mostly just terrible—contrasted comically with the intensely technical pseudo-lecture on chemistry he’d just given.
Roman nodded without looking up. “I remember balancing those was fun,” he agreed. He hadn’t taken a chemistry class in a couple of years now, but Remus was majoring in it, and the best way for Remus to study was to explain it out loud, so he’d gathered Roman and Virgil in the library. They’d even been able to snag one of the coveted whiteboards. Roman was able to focus on his notes better with Remus’s animated talking in the background, and Virgil preferred quiet but was willing to put on his headphones to block out Remus’s noise, so all in all this arrangement worked out well for all three of them.
“Yes!” Remus agreed with a happy wiggle. He picked up his water bottle off the table and took a long sip. “Okay, next I have a bunch of molecules I have to memorize the structures of. Do you need anything first?” He addressed his question to both of them, but Virgil seemed pretty focused—or perhaps his music was loud enough to drown out other noises.
Roman, however, thought the question over. “Yes, actually, can you help me go over my lines for this one scene? It’s not very long.”
“Mmhm.” Remus held out his hands expectantly, and Roman handed him his script. Remus began fiddling with the dog-eared bottom corner of the page it was open to, folding it back and forth.
Roman dug in the pocket of his cargo shorts—he liked cargo shorts, partly for the shape but mostly for the pockets—and handed Remus a star-shaped fidget toy made of sequins that could be flipped back and forth. He’d rather the corner of the script didn’t get torn off by mistake.
“I think I’m off book, I just want to make sure,” he said as Remus accepted the toy and began fidgeting with it.
Remus nodded, scanning the page. “Sounds good. It’s just this one page?”
“Yeah. Ready?”
Remus nodded, and Roman launched into the scene. His character had most of the lines; it was essentially a glorified monologue. Remus interjected the two lines from other characters, using a hilarious nasally voice that made it hard for Roman to stay in character without breaking to laugh, but he successfully made it through the final line before dissolving into snickers.
“You’re word-perfect, kid,” Remus proclaimed as Roman got ahold of himself, handing him back the script.
Roman grinned. “Thank you!”
Remus nodded and took another sip of water before wiping down the whiteboard and launching into a ramble about the molecular structures he had to memorize.
Roman had just about tuned Remus out again and slipped back into the headspace where he could focus on his work when Remus broke off. “Logan!” he exclaimed, sounding delighted.
Roman looked up, and so did Virgil, pulling off hir headphones. Roman followed Remus’s gaze, and there indeed was Logan, his flat top haircut and dark academia outfit unmistakeable. He was stepping out of the stairwell that led down from the floor above, adjusting the strap of the leather messenger bag they used instead of a backpack. Even at this distance, the pins he kept on the bag were visible, neatly affixed in alternating rows on the bag’s buckle straps—a demiboy flag, an aromantic flag, an enamel pin shaped like an open book, and a handful of other pins Logan had collected from the university’s cultural centers during orientation. Roman had a few of that last category on his backpack himself; he knew he and Logan had matching land acknowledgment pins now, but he wasn’t sure if any of the other pins they’d chosen matched.
Remus darted across the wide open floor, weaving his way around a few students. “Logan! Hi!”
Logan looked up, a small smile finding its way onto his face as he saw Remus. He said something—presumably a greeting—but was too far away for Roman to hear, since he was speaking at a normal tone.
Remus seized Logan by the hand and dragged them towards Roman and Virgil. Logan laughed and said something in protest, pushing his square glasses up his wide nose as he followed Remus.
“Remus, I have to go to class,” Logan was insisting as they got close enough for Roman to hear. “Hello, Roman. Virgil.” They adjusted their already-immaculate clothing, the tendons in their thin hands flexing as they smoothed their mustard-brown cable knit sweater vest and tugged on the rolled-up sleeves of their periwinkle button down shirt.
Virgil gave a two-fingered salute. “Sup.”
“Hi Logan,” Roman said happily. “We’re studying!”
“Very nice,” Logan said, raising Remus’s hand—which was still clasping his own—and gently pressing it with their other hand. “I am always glad to see you, Remus, but I can’t stay long.”
“Okay,” Remus said. “I just wanted to say hi.” He gave Logan a quick, tight hug around the ribs before releasing them just as fast as he’d darted in.
Logan smiled again. “Hello, then. I hope your studying is going well?”
He received nods from the group, and gave them his own nod in return.
“You’ve got to go,” Remus reminded him. “You don’t like to be late.”
“True. I’ll see you later, dear.”
Remus nodded. “Wanna hang out tomorrow night?”
Logan considered this. “Maybe. I’m going to the Black Student Union meeting tomorrow evening. So it would have to be after that.”
“Okay, I can do that! I love you!”
Logan smiled. “I love you too, Rem.” They made as if to leave, then paused. “Roman, while I’m thinking of it—are you and Patton still free for lunch tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Roman confirmed. Logan and Patton had two classes together, and so together with Roman they’d formed a tight-knit little friend group very quickly; the three of them tried to make sure to meet up for lunch at least once a week.
“Wonderful. I’ll text our groupchat about it. See you then.” Logan tugged his hand out of Remus’s grip, waved, and set off at a brisk pace back towards the stairs.
***
“I’m telling you, Virgil, Oberon and Titania are a really good example of how soulmates can make it through rough patches!”
“Bullshit. They’re obviously not a metaphor for soulmates, why would the fae even have soulmates? Their story is a cautionary tale,” Virgil said languidly, lying on their back on the floor of their room.
“No!” Roman pounded his fist on the floor. “Why do you always do this?”
“Because it’s funny,” Virgil replied with a snicker.
“But you always bash on soulmates, specifically!” Roman said.
“Yeah, because I think society’s emphasis on soulbonds is dumb.” Virgil shrugged. “Anyway, if you think Oberon and Titania’s relationship is a good example of anything, I have some concerns.”
“No—no, stop! I didn’t mean it like that! They’re fae, like you said. I obviously don’t condone any of the ways they treated each other! I’m just saying that viewing them as a metaphor for soulmates makes a really interesting lens to view the other couples in the play! Right, Logan?” He turned expectantly to Logan.
“Wh—no,” Logan, who was sitting on Remus’s bed and combing their fingers through Remus’s hair, his head in their lap, responded. “You are both, objectively, wrong. Horribly so. Painfully so.”
“Hey! You’re not allowed to tell me I’m wrong about Shakespeare,” Roman countered quickly.
“Why did you ask me for my opinion, then?” Logan asked, rolling their eyes.
“I don’t know,” Roman grumbled.
“Wait, why can’t they talk to you about Shakespeare?” Virgil asked.
“Because they always win!” Roman crossed his arms.
“Oh, and I don’t?” Virgil demanded. “What am I to you, Roman? I thought we had something special here,” they went on playfully. “You make dumb arguments, I make worse ones, and then I win. I thought that meant something to you.” They pouted at him.
“That’s different!” Roman protested, stifling giggles at the mopey puppy dog eyes Virgil was sending him. “You just don’t care what I say. Logan actually refutes my arguments! It’s very humiliating!”
“I only do it because your logic is physically painful to listen to,” Logan said.
Roman crossed his arms and pointedly turned away from Logan, nose in the air. “Anyway. As I was saying. Puck’s role in all of this is really interesting, if you consider the question: are the fae supposed to be able to truly alter soulbonds, or are they only messing with feelings?”
“Dear,” Logan said plaintively, looking down at Remus, his fingers still carding through Remus’s curls.
“Hmm?” Remus responded, not opening his eyes.
“Make them stop,” Logan said beseechingly.
“Sorry fellas, you heard them. Stop torturing Logan, he’s already an English major, so he’s plenty tortured already. Or else I’ll have to dissect your spleens.” Remus wagged a finger in Roman and Virgil’s direction.
“What a terrible fate that would be,” Roman commented, flopping over to lie on the floor beside Virgil.
Seconds later, his phone buzzed; he pulled it out to see a text notification from Virgil.
Virgil: oberon sucks btw
Roman: Oh, it is ON!
Roman grinned as he sent the response, already anticipating the thrill of the argument that was about to ensue. He felt a warm thrill in his chest at Virgil’s answering chuckle—it was good to know Virgil was having fun with this too.
***
“—so I was hanging out with Virgil the other day at the library cafe, and he said The Tempest was dumb because magic solves everything.” Roman was lying on the floor of his dorm, tossing a bouncy ball up in the air and catching it over and over again. Logan was sitting at Roman’s desk, legs up and crossed on the seat of the chair as he worked on readings for an English class, half-listening to Roman’s rambling. “And that since it solved all the problems, it made no sense for Prospero to give it up. Which was completely ignoring all the bad stuff magic had done and the symbolism of him throwing it away!”
“What did Remus have to say about that?” Logan inquired with a small laugh, not looking up from the copy of Frankenstein in his hands.
“What? Oh, nothing. Remus wasn’t there.”
“Oh?” Logan blinked, glancing up from the book.
“Yeah, we were at the library getting Starbucks, we do that on Wednesdays now. Remus was in his history class, I’m pretty sure.”
“I didn’t know you and Virgil hung out together,” Logan said, raising their eyebrows.
“Oh, we don’t, we just get coffee on Wednesdays, it’s different,” Roman said.
Logan stared at him. “...What?”
“Like, we only hang out on our own time to get Starbucks and then argue about Shakespeare. It’s really fun! It’s a great system, honestly. And this way, you don’t yell at me about Shakespeare or text Remus rant essays about what you think I’m getting wrong!”
Logan looked away, a very called-out expression on his face. “You weren’t supposed to see those…”
“Oh, Remus didn’t show me, I just broke into his phone the other day and it was open to your texts,” Roman said reassuringly.
“Why would you break into—” Logan began, not seeming reassured in the slightest.
“I needed to check his calendar to see if he was available to come with me to the grocery store,” Roman explained. “You know we’re really good at guessing each other’s passcodes. He doesn’t mind, we break into each other’s phones all the time.” He paused, assessing Logan’s face, trying to gauge if their expression was upset or not. “I’m sorry I read the texts, though,” he added, just in case it had hurt their feelings. “I only saw the very end of it, it wasn't on purpose or anything. Promise.”
Logan sighed. “I know. It’s alright.” He reached across the space between them to press the back of Roman’s hand.
Roman grinned. “Only you would come up with a whole essay in a text,” he teased. “Dunno what I expected, really.”
“It wasn’t an essay,” Logan said defensively. “Technically speaking.”
“I dunno, it sure looked like if you formatted it with MLA, you could turn it in for a grade.” Roman giggled. “But hey, what do I know?”
Logan opened his mouth to reply, but stopped as the doorknob rattled with the sound of keys.
Patton stepped in. “Hey! If it isn’t some of my favorite people!” he greeted the two of them with a smile. His dark, wavy hair was a little ruffled. Normally he combed it to the side, but Roman remembered it had been windy today, so Roman guessed that was responsible for the irregularity. “How are you doing?” Patton asked the two of them.
“Better now that you’re here,” Roman told him with an answering grin. “How’s your day been?” He’d noticed that Patton really liked being asked how his day had gone.
Sure enough, Patton’s smile spread a little wider. “Pretty good, thanks! I haven’t had too much to do today, which is nice. How are you doing, Logan?” He sat down on the floor beside Roman, sliding his backpack off his shoulders.
Roman immediately sat up and scooted over to lean against Patton—he was an excellent cuddler; he was tall and chubby and he ran warm, and Roman liked cuddles. He tended towards understimulation rather than overstimulation, and hugs were one of his favorite things. Patton was always happy to supply.
“I’m alright, thank you,” Logan said as Patton wrapped an arm around Roman’s shoulders. “A little underslept, but otherwise good.”
“Good, good. You should sleep more. Are you both busy?” Patton asked.
“No,” Roman said, because Patton always had fun ideas.
Logan pursed his lips, glancing down at the book in his hands in consideration. “I can finish this chapter later. Why?”
“Oh, I was just wondering if either of you wanted to play a board game,” Patton said. He and Roman had each brought a couple from their homes, and together they had quite the little collection.
“Yes!” Roman agreed eagerly, breaking away from Patton and crossing to the shelf where they kept the games. “How about Clue?”
“I will decimate you both,” Logan said, deadly serious, adjusting their glasses and scooting to the floor.
“All part of the fun, Specs.” Roman pulled out the box and set it down between them. “Dibs on the red piece!”
***
“—so I told him that was utter bullshit—not in so many words, of course—and listed off the reasons why, and he simply did not seem to recognize how completely nonexistent his logic was, he just kept repeating his original points louder and louder.” Logan punctuated his rant about a classmate with hand gestures as he walked next to Roman on the sidewalk.
“I hate guys like that,” Roman said, making a face.
Logan nodded. “But I got full credit on my discussion post when I typed up my argument and I cannot imagine he got the same, based on his talking points. So.” He shrugged, clearly trying not to look too smug with himself.
“Good job!” Roman told them.
“Thank you.” Logan’s happiness was palpable. “How have—”
“Logan!” Remus’s voice shouted.
Roman looked in the direction of the noise; they were almost an entire block away still from the quad, where they’d agreed to meet Remus, but he seemed to have spotted them. He was sprinting at full speed directly towards them.
“Oh, dear,” Logan said, the exasperation in his voice belied by the grin on their face. They took a step back and braced themself, just in time.
Remus full-on tackled Logan in a hug, colliding into him at full speed. Logan stumbled back a couple of steps, but successfully avoided falling over. “Hello, Remus,” he said composedly, wrapping their arms around Remus and returning the enthusiastic hug. “How are you?”
“Much better now. I missed you,” Remus said into Logan’s shoulder. “Normal people get all weird about it when I tell them cool murder facts. You're much cooler than normal people.”
“It has been twenty-seven hours and about thirty minutes since you last saw me,” Logan informed him. “And thirteen minutes since we last texted.” They rumpled his curls, which fell messily in loose spirals about his face; they were mostly about chin length, although some of them were choppily trimmed shorter than others. Remus was very insistent about cutting his own hair. It was always mildly disastrous, but he insisted he liked it that way. He’d dyed it himself, too; he’d bleached a streak at the very front of his head and dyed it silver about a month before college started, with a surprising amount of success.
“Yeah, and I missed you.” Remus stepped back from the hug as Logan released him. “Also hi Roman, I guess.” He tossed Roman a grin.
“You are a terrible brother sometimes,” Roman informed him. “Hi.”
“Uh, I think you mean all the time,” Remus corrected him. “I’m joking,” he added. “C’mon, I got Starbucks for us! I have extra meal credits!” He seized Logan’s hand and reached invitingly for Roman’s.
Roman let Remus grab his hand, too, and his brother immediately began dragging both Roman and Logan at a slightly breakneck pace down the sidewalk. Several students dove out of their way until he dragged them to a halt by the food truck, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waiting expectantly.
Not even a moment later, the barista placed three cups on the delivery window tray and called out Remus’s name.
“Yes!” Remus pumped his fist, darted over, and picked up two of the cups—Roman recognized Remus and Logan’s go-to coffee orders, a trenta mango-dragonfruit refresher and a grande vanilla sweet cream cold brew with extra ice. Roman picked up the last cup, a warm drink in a grande cup; he sniffed to check what it was even though he knew what Remus usually got him. Steamed apple juice with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top—his favorite as a kid and still one of his favorites now. He wrapped his hands around the warm cup and followed Remus and Logan over to a sunny patch on the lawn.
Remus sprawled out, taking up more space than seemed humanly possible for one person to fill; Logan tucked their legs beneath them as they sat beside Remus and began pulling out a textbook, a dog-eared novel, and a handful of pens and pencils from their messenger bag.
Roman sat so that he completed the triangle between the three of them, his legs crossed so he could lean his cup against them between sips and not worry about knocking it over.
“Thank you for the coffee, Remus,” Logan said, his cup halfway to his lips as he flipped through the worn novel.
Roman nodded in agreement, breathing in the warm cinnamon scent of the apple juice.
“Of course!” Remus said exuberantly, taking a noisy slurp of his drink.
Roman and Logan both winced slightly.
“Could you be a little quieter, there?” Logan asked mildly.
“How dare you.” Remus clutched his heart, leaning back so far Roman was surprised he didn’t lose his balance and fall over.
Logan sighed, reaching over and placing a hand over Remus’s, gripped around the edge of the cup’s lid. “At least please be careful not to splash,” he said, guiding Remus’s hand downwards until the cup came to rest on the ground. “This textbook cost rather a lot and I’d like to sell it back in a decent condition at the end of the term.”
Remus let go of the cup, leaving it to rest where it was, and leaned forward. He took Logan’s face in both of his hands and looked seriously into their eyes. “Hey. You are my best friend in the whole world and you mean everything to me. I love you and I’m so glad we’re soulmates. But I draw the line at stopping my annoying behavior for anything less than a natural disaster.” He released Logan and picked his drink back up. “I promise I won’t spill on your book, though,” he added lightly. “Roman gets no such promises.”
“You wouldn’t dare, you know I hate being sticky—” Roman began heatedly.
“Okay, okay. Jesus. You two are really conspiring to foil all my chaotic little gremlin dealings today. I’ll order an ice water to spill on you instead, will that make you happy?” Remus snickered.
Roman frowned. “If you must,” he begrudgingly agreed, since this seemed the closest thing to a compromise he was likely to get out of Remus. He suspected it might be a joke anyway, but he wasn’t sure about that and didn’t want to take any chances.
But Remus didn’t return to the food truck, so it seemed likely that it was a joke after all. Instead, he devoted himself to more noisy slurping, crossing his eyes and looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“You’re the tallest one of us,” Roman said after a moment.
“Huh?” Remus looked up at him.
“He has a point, dear,” Logan said, turning a page.
“Like yeah I know I am, but what’s the point?” Remus asked.
“You said we were foiling your chaotic little gremlin dealings,” Roman elaborated. “You’re, like, fucking… six two.”
“And a half,” Remus added. “Emotionally, I am a chaotic creature of spite who’s about three five and can sneeze fire, though.”
“That makes no sense,” Roman protested.
“Does too,” Remus responded, crossing his arms.
“It does,” Logan agreed. “For example, emotionally, I punch that one classmate in the face twice a week, but we can’t always embody what we want to be. And you, Roman—emotionally, you’re very invested in Shakespeare, but in actuality, your interpretations are painfully bad.”
“Hey. You talking about me and Shakespeare is off limits. We’ve discussed this.” Roman waved a warning finger at them.
“I still think that’s unfair and have raised a motion to reject and overturn the ban.”
“Unfortunately for you, the judge and jury are my feelings, and you hurt them, Logan. Shakespeare and I have something special. You need to stop trying to come between us like this.”
Logan glanced up from his book to give Roman a singularly unimpressed look. “You are preposterous.”
Roman beamed at him and made a heart shape with his hands, holding it up like a picture frame to look at Logan through. “But you loooooove me,” he singsonged.
Logan nodded. “This is true.”
“You’re both nerds and Shakespeare isn’t even that good,” Remus put in, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“I’m divorcing you,” Logan said immediately.
“Noooo, come back!” Remus dramatically grasped at the air as if reaching out from afar for Logan.
“Fine.” Logan shrugged. “Then Roman’s disowning you.”
“Hey, that’s my line!”  
“He can’t disown me, he’d miss me,” Remus said confidently. “Y’all are stuck with me.” He looked very pleased with himself.
There was silence for a beat, then all three of them burst into laughter.
“I’m really glad we’re all friends,” Remus said happily, leaning back and taking another long sip of his drink.
“Yeah,” Roman agreed.
“I don’t know,” Logan said, holding back a smirk. “Sometimes I think about a world where I don’t have to deal with a pair of himbos every day of my life.” He maintained his faux-serious face for all of the three seconds it took both twins to start pelting him with ripped-up blades of grass, then devolved into helpless laughter again.
***
“Patton, you good? You’ve been kind of spaced out all day.”
“Huh?” Patton looked up, blinking through his round gold-rimmed glasses. “Yeah, I’m okay! Just… boy problems, I guess? Which is… it’s new.” He wrinkled his nose for a second in a face of dissatisfaction before smoothing his face back into a smile.
“Oh? Want to talk about it?” Roman asked eagerly, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hands, interest definitely piqued.
“I don’t know…” Patton glanced away. “It’s complicated. And it’s probably not a big deal.”
“Patton. We are friends. The main purpose of friends is gossiping about crushes.” Roman crossed his arms. “I am offended that you would ever doubt my capacity for talking about boys in a gay way.”
“I don’t think that’s the main purpose of friendship,” Patton said, but his smile looked more genuine.
“Shush, I know that, I’m being dramatic. How about a movie night and you can spill the deets in a cozy setting with popcorn? And Logan?”
“I mean… okay,” Patton relented. “It’s probably not as exciting as you’re hoping for, though, I’m sorry.”
“Nonsense. You are perfect and so is everything you do,” Roman said absently, pulling out his phone and FaceTiming Logan.
“Roman! You’re sweet, but you know you shouldn’t go around passing out compliments that should go to you,” Patton said.
“Oh, stop,” Roman said, grinning wide.
Logan picked up on the second ring. “What do you need, Roman?”
“To see your gorgeous face, nerd. Also we’re having a movie night at me and Pat’s, attendance mandatory. Seven works, right? Pat’s having boy problems.”
Logan stared at Roman with a blank face for several beats. “And… you want me there to help… why?” he deadpanned.
“Shut up, you have a nonromantic boy toy, you’re basically qualified to help.”
“Don’t call Remus that! He’s a person, not a—wait, he’s your brother, Roman, that’s worse, that’s so weird—”
“—Anyway, I can more than handle giving Patton plenty of terrible advice on his love life,” Roman interrupted. “You’re there to tell him everything I say is a terrible idea and let me throw popcorn at you. We can watch Big Hero Six. C’mon, it’ll be fun!”
Logan heaved a sigh. “Fine. But you have to put your dad’s curry powder on the popcorn.”
“What kind of man do you take me for, Logan? Of course we’ll have curry popcorn! See you at seven, love you, bye bye.” Roman blew a kiss and hung up.
After his English class, Roman grabbed a burrito from the dining hall and hurried back to the dorm, making it there at half past six. Patton was already back; he made hot chocolate while Roman microwaved popcorn and tossed it in a bowl with curry powder.
At precisely seven o'clock, there was a knock on the door; Roman let Logan in and the three of them climbed into the nest of pillows and blankets Patton had built on the bottom bunk, pushing aside the bi pride flag and the Puerto Rican flag Patton had hung like curtains around his bunk.
“So,” Roman said eagerly as the movie’s opening bot fight began on the laptop screen, turning to Patton and bouncing (Logan grabbed the popcorn bowl out of Roman’s lap as it jostled), “spill!”
Patton squirmed under the attention, a half-hidden smile ghosting its way onto his face. “I don’t know… what should I talk about?”
“What’s he like?” Roman asked. “How do you know him? Is he cute? Have you got his number?”
“Oh, wow—that’s a lot.” Patton giggled nervously.
“Okay, start with is he cute?”
“He’s really cute,” Patton allowed, biting back another smile. “He’s got all these freckles all over his face and neck and hands, and his eyebrows are really expressive—he gets this really serious face when he’s thinking, and it’s… really pretty.”
“Eyes?” Roman demanded. “How are his eyes?”
“I mean, they’re eyes? They’re this kind of greyish blueish color. I don’t know, I try not to stare, especially when he’s looking, you know?”
“Okay, that’s fair,” Roman relented. “What else? Is he fashionable?”
“I—not really, honestly. He mostly just wears longsleeve tees and jeans. Sometimes beanies. He has these really cute yellow converse that he always wears, though. He, like—oh, gosh, I’m not sure how to describe it. He’s not, like, fashionable like you asked, but he—kind of the way he holds himself makes it seem like he is? He wears his clothes well, I think is maybe the phrase.”
Roman nodded. “Alright. Do you know whether or not he’s queer?”
Patton hesitated. “Um… I’m not sure. I don’t know either way. But he was the only one that laughed at a bi pun I made one time, and he wore a pink shirt and yellow belt with faded jeans one time, which I might be reading way too much into but it sure looked like a sneaky pastel pan flag.”
Roman nodded very seriously, taking mental notes. “All good signs. Anything else? Any stickers on his laptop or water bottle? Pins on his backpack?”
Patton shook his head. “They’re, like, super empty. He doesn’t really do anything that tells people about his personality. His outfits are usually really plain, like I said, and everything. It’s weird, because he’s got such a distinct personality, and he really doesn’t seem like someone who’d leave his stuff unpersonalized. It’s like he’s afraid of something, or something.” Patton was silent for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “But then, he seems kind of nervous around me in general.” He looked away, a worried expression crossing his face.
“Maybe he likes you back?” Roman suggested. “Plenty of people get nervous around their crushes.”
Patton shook his head quickly. “No, I don’t think that’s it. I think I know what the thing worrying him is. I just… don’t know how to talk about it with him.”
“You do realize you’re being super vague here, right?” Roman queried; he couldn’t parse what on earth Patton meant by that, but his curiosity was piqued.
“I know.” Patton bit his lip. “I, um, don’t want to talk about it yet, I think. It’s complicated. I don’t think it would be fair to him to discuss it with others.”
“Oh.” Roman did his best to hide his disappointment. “Okay, that’s fine. How do you know him?”
His attempt to change the subject didn’t seem to ease Patton’s discomfort, based on the way his shoulders drew up even closer to his ears. “...Kind of from a class we’re in together?” he answered after a long pause. “We’re partners on a group project.”
“Sounds like a meet cute to me,” Roman said, searching again for new lines of questioning that would hopefully not be as upsetting for mysterious and unknown reasons. “What do you like about him?”
Patton lit up. “He’s really sweet, actually. It takes some looking to see it, because he’s got a lot of walls up, but you can tell he’s really thoughtful and observant, and he’s really warming up to me, I think—he’s being much nicer to me than most people, and I’m starting to think he really means it and wants to be nice to me just to be nice, not because he feels like he has to.”
“Well, of course he’d be nice to you, you’re like the sweetest person I’ve met in my life,” Roman said, feeling bewildered by this line of reasoning.
“No, I—oh, nevermind. I was worried he wasn’t genuinely being nice for a while, but I’m really starting to think he means it, is my point. Anyway, he’s really smart—he’s so good at like, you know, synthesizing stuff? He’s really good at finding the information we need and paraphrasing it in a way that works really well for our project. I have such a hard time wording things how I want, you know? So it’s awesome that he can do that so well. And he’s good at puns, too! He tries not to laugh, but he scrunches his nose up and gets really red cheeks so you can always tell, it’s really cute. And one time I was trying to explain to our professor he was wrong about something, but I was kind of having trouble getting my point across, the teacher didn’t seem to get it, and he just spoke up and pointed out exactly where the misunderstanding was. It was really nice and reassuring of him. He just seems really protective of people he cares about, you know?”
“He sounds great, Pat!” Roman agreed.
Patton nodded, giving an excited little wiggle.
The brief silence was broken by a quiet crunching noise. Roman looked to his other side to see Logan, eyes fixed on the movie, who had worked their way through a solid third of the popcorn.
“Oh, you fiend!” Roman cried, seizing the popcorn bowl back since he was sitting in the middle.
“What?” Logan defended himself exasperatedly. “You two seemed to be handling that just fine! I like this movie! Neither of you asked for the popcorn back! What did I do?”
“...Okay, technically nothing,” Roman admitted after considering this defense and finding it to be unfortunately solid and covering all of Logan’s bases. God, they knew him too well. “But we are supposed to be doing this as a group.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Fine. Patton, he’s probably queer. You should ask him out and see what happens. Happy now?”
“Wh—how are you saying that with such confidence?” Roman demanded.
“Which part?”
“That he’s queer. I agree Patton should definitely ask him out at the first opportunity, we just hadn’t gotten to that yet.”
“I mean, I can’t say for sure, but being the only person in a classroom to react to a queer joke is pretty telling.” Logan shrugged. “Any other relevant details?”
Patton shrugged. “I don’t know. Janus—that’s the guy—he doesn’t talk about himself very much—”
“Hold on, Janus?” Logan interrupted. “Lanky white guy? Constantly acts like he’s just swallowed a lemon? Kind of a twink? Looks incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin? Growing his hair out?”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Patton admitted. “You could maybe be nicer about him, though.”
“I’m sure I could,” Logan said, seeming unconcerned. “Yeah, I know him. He’s queer, I’m pretty sure he’s compatible with you. No idea if he’d be interested, or frankly what you see in him, but go for it.”
“Wh—how do you know him?” Roman demanded. “I feel left out now!”
“We met at the Aspec—at a pride center identity group. Also he’s Remus’s roommate’s best friend. They’re practically attached at the hip. I’m surprised you haven’t met him yet, with how much you hang out over there lately.”
Virgil had a best friend? A best friend here, at college? That was news. Surprisingly unpleasant news—Roman wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t like he disliked Virgil to the point of not wanting them to have friends! Of course not! Frankly, he was glad to hear the tiny emo had a social life. It just kind of stung that this was the first time he was hearing about someone evidently so important to Virgil. And not even from hir own mouth. He’d kind of thought they were closer than that. That he’d have learned basic facts about what and who was important to Virgil by now. Learning otherwise was a remarkably unpleasant experience.
Logan took another handful of popcorn out of the bowl in Roman’s hands, startling Roman out of his thoughts.
“Stop!” he yelped. “I want some, too!”
“You have more if this bag runs out,” Logan pointed out. “I have some extra popcorn in my dorm too. And you’ve been holding out on me with your curry powder.” He popped another handful into his mouth and crossed his arms.
“If you just asked my parents, you could have some of your own! They’d even give you the recipe! Now share with Patton!” Roman leaned himself and the popcorn bowl away from Logan, trying not to laugh.
“I don’t mind,” Patton put in. “It’s very tasty, but I’m not as attached as Logan is.”
“No, you have to take some, he’s been hogging it,” Roman insisted.
“I don’t mind!” Patton insisted. Roman shoved the bowl in his face, and he relented and took a handful.
“Let Logan have some more now,” Patton said, gently pushing the bowl back into Roman’s lap.
“Thank you,” Logan said primly when Roman relented.
“You’re welcome!” Patton said with an easy smile. The smile fell away after a moment, though, and he looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure about asking Janus out, though,” he said hesitantly.
“Why not?” Roman asked. “You really sound interested in him! What have you got to lose?”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Patton said, worrying the edge of a blanket between his fingers. “I’m not sure if he’d be comfortable with it. I don’t—I don’t know.” He looked away. “I’ll figure it out, I guess.” He looked back at Roman and Logan, forcing a smile onto his face. “Thank you both for the advice, though. And for listening.”
“Patton—” Roman began, concerned.
Patton shook his head. “Let’s just watch the movie now, okay? Really. Thank you. But I’m good for now. Can I have some more popcorn?”
Logan wordlessly held out the bowl and Roman allowed himself to be mostly distracted by Big Hero Six. He felt better when Patton leaned on his shoulder, a genuine smile on his face as he watched Fred goofing around on the screen. Whatever the issue Patton was dealing with was, at least it didn’t seem big enough to keep bothering him after putting it aside.
***
“So,” Remus said with an evil grin.
“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know,” Roman said. They were both sprawled on Remus’s bed, sharing earbuds as Remus swiped through TikTok.
“It’s nothing!” Remus protested.
Roman gave him a suspicious look. Remus’s face was entirely too innocent.
“I was just wondering when you’re going to get your shit together and do something about your crush on Virgil,” Remus said, the evil grin back.
“My what?” Roman did a double take. “I—I don’t have a crush on Virgil, we barely even get along!”
Remus rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. The tension between you two is so high I’m surprised something hasn’t snapped yet. And you definitely have a crush.”
“I do not!” Roman grabbed Remus’s pillow and threw it in his brother’s face. “We’re barely even friends!”
Remus shoved the pillow aside and rested his chin on top of it, making a skeptical face.
“I mean, are they really pretty? Sure. But that’s not a crush,” Roman insisted.
“Mmhm. Okay. So what makes it not a crush?” Remus pressed.
“I—well—” Roman stammered, flustered by the very question.
“Uh-huh.”
“No!” Roman snapped, voice cracking. “I just—that’s a hard question to answer right off the bat! How do you define a crush? It’s just not, okay?”
“I mean, I define crush as, like…” Remus paused. “Huh. Okay. You have a point, or whatever. I guess… a crush is, like—huh. No. Okay. You’re distracting me. I’m teasing you about your crush that you totally do have, we are not veering off topic.”
“I do not have a crush on Virgil! I just want to be his friend! Okay?”
Remus made a skeptical face. “Sure, whatever you say. I’m still going to tease you about it.”
“Oh, whenever you find that third soulmate, I am getting so much revenge.”
“Eh.” Remus shrugged. “Like, go for it, but I dunno if you’ll have that much time to tease me about it before we get together. You know? Like, think about me and Logan.”
“Logan knew you were soulmates for two and a half years before you got togeth—”
“Yeah, because he’s smart, but I didn’t figure it out until thirty minutes before we got together. Or like. Thirty minutes before we started talking about it. You know this.”
Roman crossed his arms. This was unfortunately a very good point; the day Remus had figured out that Logan was one of his soulmates had been a pretty memorable one even for Roman. Logan and the twins had grown up next door to each other, and had been best friends since elementary school. One Saturday morning near the end of their senior year of high school, Remus had bolted upright in bed while Roman was brushing his teeth, blurted out something nigh incomprehensible, and taken off at a sprint; he’d slammed the front door behind himself on his way out and he hadn’t answered any of Roman’s texts for two hours, only to show up by sprinting back into the house and screaming at the top of his lungs “Logan and I are soulmates!”
This had prompted a lot of confused questioning from Roman. He’d learned that yes, Remus and Logan were definitely soulmates; Logan had figured it out in sophomore year but hadn’t said anything; Remus had only just figured it out; yes, Logan was still aromantic; yes, Remus was still allo; no, neither of them felt like either of these facts was an issue; and Remus was very happy.
“We’re going on, like, a date, but platonic,” Remus had announced to him that day, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’m really excited, this is so cool! Who’d have thought, right? Logan and me!”
Roman had smiled and tried hard to just be happy for Remus and Logan, and not jealous of them. Particularly about two months later, when they’d made their relationship official and become queerplatonic partners. He was happy for them! He was!
But Remus had never cared that much about finding his soulmates. Roman had. It didn’t feel fair. Remus, who didn’t care, got two soulmates, and one of them was literally his childhood best friend. Roman, who’d been daydreaming about finding his soulmate since he was too little to remember, and had learned just about everything there was to know about how soulbonds worked, seemed to have just the usual one soulmate. His soulbond hadn’t even developed until he was sixteen—admittedly, that was an expected side effect of the puberty blockers he’d been on for a few years before he’d been approved for T, but he was still salty about it. And when his soulbond finally had developed and he’d started tuning into his soulmate’s dreams, they were so creepy! He wasn’t sure he’d had a single souldream so far that wasn’t a nightmare. They ruined his sleep for the night whenever he got one. It was irritating and frustrating and all sorts of bad things; he’d actually cried over it a couple of times, not that anyone but Remus knew.
But as annoying as it was for him, it had to be worse for his poor soulmate—if these nightmares were what was making it through the soulbond, he could only imagine how much worse their nightly sleep must be.
He hoped he’d find them soon. He was ready for a proper romance, thank you very much!
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certifiedceraunophile · 3 years ago
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Hello! I’m your Klaroline Swap gifter👀 I am sorry it's taken me this long to reach out but I've finally gotten to it! I am excited to be writing for you and wanted to ask a few questions about your gift. Wanted to know about your all-time favorite tropes and side pairings? Any Caroline friendships you like? Any tropes or pairings you don't like? Any pet peeves with KC fic? Any smut preferences? Anything you especially want to see or any info you'd like me to know? Hope you have a great day!💖
Heyyy!! Thank you for sending me this ask, and please don't apologize, it’s all good 💖 I hope you're having a great day too! So I’ll just jump in and answer all your questions ✌🏾✨
I am so so sorry it got this long, like so long, I really tried to condense it, but I have no concept of short and concise so now I have to put this below a cut 😭🙃😭
All time favourite tropes:
[see here's the thing I dont exactly *know* what tropes are so I'm just gonna yeet a bunch of HIGHLY specific prompt-thingies that make me tingle at you and you can do w them what you wish- like take out certain parts you want to use, or base other tropes off of them anything you wish really, even if you choose to ignore all of them I won't be holding it against you dw!]
Ok so I love love the "I was just captured by the bad guys and very harshly uh demanded to sell you out, but I didnt, bc even though I might posture like you’re the scourge of the earth and would gladly see you dead, I in fact, do not want you dead and will therefore not be selling you out and will handle mild -emphasis on mild please do not hurt either of my babies too much- torture instead and oops! look at that, you just overheard this exact exchange where I stand my ground and refuse to betray you, and now you’ve gone feral over your loyalty kink and are spouting promises of never letting go of me, which honestly I cannot bring myself to be mad at."
I love love love the forced bedsharing trope which then leads to accidental cuddling, where one party [caroline] is just very very annoyed that their body sought the warmth of a cockroach fucknugget being [klaus] and the fucknugget party is just very very smug about being the other party's personal space heater, and nuzzles them and cuddles tighter and asdfghjkl I'm getting tingly just thinking about it, and like says w a husky sleepy voice “don't move” and cuddles closer. jfc please I’m a basic bitch with very basic wants.
I absolutely LOVE the "we work on opposite enemy sides, but now we have to band together to defeat one common enemy and honestly I am NOT glad that I constantly wanna throw you against a wall, and not all reasons for said wall-throwing are strictly to inflict violence on you."
I also LOVE the "fuck youre bleeding/hurt/injured and fucking hell I dont know why my hands are shaking while I attend to your wounds but god it is, and now I'm not sure exactly how deep you've furrowed into my heart and stuck yourself there like a dickheaded leech."
Now I feel like I have given you many tropes, but I also feel like i didnt in fact help you at all, bc I'm not sure these are uh tropes?? but anyway those are some highly specific...scenes?? I have a very deep bias for
[you obviously dont HAVE to write ANY of them if you dont want to]
And also if I had to give you a clear cut trope to follow, I absolutely LOVE the enemies-to tentative allies-to lovers trope, in which one party is just working really really hard to get to the lovers part, and the other is working really really hard not to get to the lovers part, but caves later on, bc really the fucker grows on you. [Featuring Klaus as the "high key besotted already pursuing Caroline"-person, and Caroline is the "I am very very annoyed w this wooing, but I am more annoyed this wooing is working"-person. And also, I like my Klaus E V I L, But really really really *soft* for Caroline.]
Also if by tropes you meant settings, Like AU's, literally anything works, I have a personal bias for Crime AU's when it comes to enemies to lovers, and Canon is the ultimate enemies to lovers AU, but honestly you can use which ever one you want, I am not entirely sure myself if I have a specific preference here, AH, Fantasy, Supernatural, Scifi, it's all good.
[I however am not extremely fond of Historical Settings]
Again you are not required to follow any of these tropes at all if you don't wish to, I just require you to have a lot of fun writing and love the beauty you write yourself first!
Side pairings:
Ok I LOVE me some Kennett [kol + bonnie] but I also LOVEEE kolenzo [Kol and Enzo], I also am extremely just *heart eyes* at Bonenzo [Bonnie + enzo], but I absolutely DIE for Kennettzo [which is OT3 of Kol Bonnie and Enzo]
Kalijah is also a-ok w me, and I feel like I dont have any other side pairings I'd like die to see I guess. If you choose not to go with these side pairings its perfectly alright.
Caroline Friendships:
Ok this I can answer without rambling like an idiot, I love love love love :
Bonnie + Caroline [like i love this so much it physically hurts me, they both deserve so so so much better]
Kol + Caroline [I will literally touch a frog, and I have a phobia of frogs, to have one full conversation w these two idiots]
Enzo + Caroline [Honestly enzoline brotp makes me wanna sob happy tears bc they are so perfect together]
Katherine + Caroline + Rebekah [bad bitch meets head bitch meets super bitch, what could possibly go wrong]
Tropes and Pairings I dont like:
NOTPS:
Kolvina, stebekah, delena, stelena, datherine, steferine, Haylijah, Marcel+Rebekah, Matt+Rebekah, Bamon, Kai+bonnie, beremy.
And I think that's about it? mostly I just hate elena stefan damon and hayley and I am not fond of them w anyone, I hate all canon Rebekah relationships, and I dont like seeing Bonnie with anyone other than enzo or kol.
Tropes:
I am totally not fond of the Kill Liz for plot reasons trope, like seriously killing Caroline's mom is not ok w me, but I am totes fine if she's like already dead as part of Caroline's backstory, just don't show me Liz dying in the story as a part of the plot.
Any form of sire-bond-y or like sire-bond adjacent or like any form of deal/bargain/agreement that gives Klaus even a tiniest bit of power over Caroline's free will and choices, is just not for me, like at all, no matter how well it's done, I can't stand it.
not fond of any form of prisoner/hostage tropes, like klaus kidnapping caroline or caroline kidnapping klaus and holding each other hostage and stuff like that.
Death as a plot point doesnt work for me? and really I'd prefer if there were no major character deaths at all.
Friends to lovers trope is not for me, childhood friends to lovers trope is definitely not for me.
I don't like any sort of redemption arc really, anything that starts with Klaus as a “bad” dude and ends with him being a relatively “good” dude is not for me.
Any form of infidelity, like ofc especially in between Klaus and Caroline is just [shudder] hard pass, but like I also hate it when Caroline or Klaus cheat on anybody at all.
Also all the tropes and like themes I'm not comfy w that I mentioned in my original Gift Request still stand.
KC Pairing Pet peeves
ok This I can answer easily bc I have like a FEW,
I hate a woobified Klaus so much, like so much, I hate all TO!Klaus characterizations but this one is the worst, absolutely not here for it, I am not here to feel sorry for this mf I want to feel really deliriously GIDDY at how evil he is and how whipped he is for Caroline, but like concentrating on Klaus's manpain is not something I really wanna read.
Caroline excusing Klaus's bullshit, or like being a push over-y “it's ok, I understand why you did it” person is not for me, bc she never was one to begin w, she never did rationalize or justify Klaus's behaviour, she always held him accountable and told him what a difficult son of a bitch he is every chance she got.
I don't like arcs where Caroline is Klaus's redemption? like Caroline bringing Klaus into the "light" or whatever I am not here for it, like at all, I like Klaus staying evil while being endlessly in love with Caroline, and Caroline being able to be w a man she knows is a selfish evil ruthless grade A asshole, but will literally also choke himself to death for Caroline, cuz the man is whipped as fuck.
I also absolutely am not a fan of arcs where like Caroline remains "pure" or whatever, like that's just not for me, I am totally fine, actually MORE than fine for ruthless Caroline who is willing to do deplorable shit to get to her goal and protect her people, like Caroline being extremely almost evilly pragmatic just gives me a boner, and pretty sure gives Klaus one too. Klaus "protecting" Caroline's so called innocence is uh off putting for me personally. And her remaining this pure white light princess of good and Klaus being attracted to the *good* in her is um, nope.
Smutty Preferences
Honestly I’m very easy when it comes to smut [and u totally dont have to write me any if you dont want to]
I do not like:
non con/dub con, anal sex, Strict and/or elaborate Bdsm themes, [light undertones are ok], drunk sex, sex that’s basically infidellity [like caroline/klaus cheating on someone else w each other] , gagging, choking, Extremely rough emotionless sex, sex as a bargain, or as a part of a bargain.
Smut preferences:
I like reading oral sex, especially Klaus going down on Caroline
light bondage like being tied up [either Klaus/Caroline I enjoy both]
Sex toys are really really good, like love reading Klaus using one on Caroline, or Caroline using one on herself and Klaus watching
I do have a special love for praise kink, especially Klaus being really just in awe of Caroline during the do and expressing it uninhibitedly
Dirty Talk is GREAT
I enjoy both Klaus and Caroline in a dominant role, but I usually love it when both of them share the dominance equally, I’m just not into “Yes master” and “Yes mistress” level of dominance. I guess the word I’m looking for is Vanilla dominance lmao.
Bloodplay is also great if they're vampires.
And Klaus and Caroline leaving marks on each other is *swoon*.
I love reading possessive!klaus and possessive!caroline in equal measure so really your choice.
Hot and Dirty sex with a an undercurrent of emotion and devotion, want and need and all that nice stuff is great!
But I do have a list of words I’m not really a big fan of coming across when I’m reading smut:
Any word for vagina that’s not wetness, or folds or lips, is squicky, cunt is not a problem, pussy however is squick.
Clit is clit; little nub, bundle of nerves, all of that makes the med student in me really anxious lmao.
Any word for Cock that’s not cock is squick.
Juices, cream, semen are squicky, I just prefer come or release.
Ok these are seemingly innocent words but moist, engorged, gaping, drooling, sopping are not words I like seeing in context of smut.
So yeah that’s about it, I know hi, it’s been what, eleventy bajillion years since the beginning of this ask, I am so so so sorry for being this difficult, and really, LIKE SERIOUSLY, except for my squicks you are more than welcome to just skip past everything else, since I’m not really that hard to please, as long as the no-no’s are not there in what I read and the dynamic I asked for is even just vaguely followed I will be really really really happy and really I just want you to have fun writing whatever you feel like cooking up, I’m superrrr excited to see your interpretation of my request!!!
[Also Please please send me another ask clarifying you got my answer and also telling me I haven't frightened you with this long ass rambling list of okay’s and no-no’s bc honestly I am just anxiously debating if I should answer this ask like this or yeet half of it and vaguely rewrite the answer.]
Hope you have a great day lovely!! I am once again sorry for being this difficult. ✨���🤝🏾
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stonebreakerseries · 4 years ago
Text
Day 4: Ambush + “That didn’t stop you before”
Another piece for @oc-growth-and-development‘s OC-tober, also incorporating the Day 4 #Fictober20 prompt.
Series: Stonebreaker (Original Fiction) Characters: Delver & Sylda Warnings: Language
             ____________________________
Where in the Divider’s name could she have run off to?
Muttering darkly, Delver peered down another alley, shook his head, and continued onward, boots scuffing against the dust and grit that coated Yelen’s streets. When he’d left Sylda, she’d been half-dead at best, barely able to move, her body a mess of hastily bandaged injuries and deeper, less visible pains. It wasn’t that he blamed her for taking off the second his back was turned; all things considered, it was fair enough. Waking up to a complete stranger eating soup beside her bed - especially a man from the Allied Kingdoms - would be alarming at the best of times. But particularly for a young woman who had spent her previous waking moments hanging by the neck in the gallows courtyard. How she had managed to get out of bed, yet alone sneak out the second storey window, was nothing short of baffling.
Or it would have been, if he hadn’t already witnessed her do far stranger things.
Whoever she was - whatever she was - he needed to find her. Apparently, convincing her to uproot her entire life and travel the length of the continent alone with him was going to be difficult.
Who knew.
Alleys and side streets drifted past as Delver continued his nighttime hunt, the middle moon, Rhana, kind enough to bathe the streets in her pale blue glow. Part of Delver knew what he was doing was foolish. His innkeeper, after some creative haggling that left Delver short an iron drem and his belt knife, had offered vague directions towards a section of the city infamous for housing thieves and cutthroats. Apparently, it was an area civilians knew to avoid, especially after dark. Which just happened to be the exact place a runaway thief like Sylda was likely to go. 
Of course, that meant Delver had to follow, and despite it being a well-lit evening, he couldn’t keep his gaze from snapping towards every faint movement in the corner of his vision. This particular tangle of streets would make the perfect site for an ambush.
It was going to be a long night. 
What if she’d collapsed in an alley, somewhere? Divider, he hoped not. Burnout was a severe risk among thaumists - even highly trained ones. If she pushed herself too hard too soon, it could be enough to succeed where the gallows had failed.
After his wanderings along the main road bore no fruit, Delver sucked in a breath, shoved aside his self-preservation instinct, and began to search the side streets. The even narrower alleys, swathed in a near impenetrable darkness, could wait until he was truly desperate.
Of course, as he was quick to discover, even the side streets held their dangers.
“Well, what’ve we got here? You’re a long way from home.”
Delver came to a sharp halt as a voice carried up the street behind him. Turning, he found himself approached by two figures, one as tall as he was, the other about a half-head shorter. They ambled almost casually, which seemed an odd tactic for a robbery. Or a murder. That or he posed so little threat that they were happy to take things slow. 
How thoughtful.
“Easy,” Delver said, swapping to the local dialect, hoping its might earn him some kind of favour. He raised his hands, proving he was unarmed, although he doubted it made much difference. “I’m looking for a friend, not for trouble,”
As expected, the tall one snorted. “Right.” He gestured to his partner. “He your friend?”
Delver blinked. “No?”
“What about me?”
“Ah, no.”
“Well...” The shorter one smiled and drew a knife from his belt. “Then I guess you’ve got trouble.”
Great. Thieves and fucking comedians to boot. He must truly be the unluckiest man alive.
Sighing, Delver lowered his hands. “I guess I do.” He made a show of stretching his back, using the movement to quickly scan the nearby alleys. There didn’t seem to be any more movement. The two of them must have been running as a pair, probably on the way back from an unsuccessful hunt somewhere else in the city. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to just leave me alone?”
The tall one shrugged. “You could try. Most folks do.”
“I take it that didn’t stop you before?”
“Nope.”
Delver sniffed. “Fair enough.” He went to put his hands in his pockets, only to find a second knife being thrust menacingly towards him. Jaw tight, he froze, then returned his hands to their former position. “Listen - I’m only here because I’m looking for a woman.”
“Yeah? Ain’t we all.”
“No, not like… her name is Syldana.”
There was a pause. The pair shared a glance, brows raised, their knives still raised threateningly. “Hey, wait,” said the taller one slowly. His dark gaze drifted back to Delver. “You the one that bought her off the rope?”
Realistically, telling the truth could go one of two ways. Luckily, Delver had always been a gambling man. “I am,” he replied, raising his chin, doing his best to look more important than he was.
Again, the two shared a look. Then, the smaller one grinned, crooked teeth flashing. 
“Well, you’ve got more coin than brains, dontcha?”
Exhaling, Delver closed his eyes. Of course it went the wrong way.
The taller one stepped forward this time, boots crunching, advancing until he was almost within arm’s reach. “It’s our lucky day, Raoul. C’mon. Let’s clean his pockets.”
Well, there was no helping it. Shoulders stiff, hands still raised, Delver waited as the man started patting down his sides, hunting for hidden pockets, jewellery, treasures sewn into the lining. His knife hovered menacingly by Delver’s throat at first, so close that when he swallowed, he could feel the steel brushing against his skin. But the man was distracted, busy running a rough hand down the side of Delver’s leg. The knife wavered… pressed closer for a moment… started to dip away…
The second he had an opening, Delver swung, cracking the man across the temple with his elbow. He went down with a shocked yelp, red dust springing up around him. The knife skidded from his hand, but Delver was already moving, dancing out of his reach and away from his partner, who appeared to still be processing what had just happened.
“Krom!” the short one cried eventually, then turned a hateful glare on Delver. “You bastard - get back here!”
“Alright, alright. Just take it easy.” Delver continued retreating, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. Reaching back, he slid a wooden rod from his waistband, its twelve inch length concealed beneath his loose shirt. Just as well Krom hadn’t gotten too handsy, or he would have easily found it. With a jerk of the wrist, Delver extended the weapon to the side, doubling its length, then twisted to lock it in place. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. Krom was already getting to his feet and Raoul had seemingly regained his addled wits. “How about we all just walk away?” Delver pressed, eyes flicking between the pair. “No one has to get hurt.”
Their response was simple enough.
Grunting, Delver ducked to the side, the sound of Raoul’s dagger whipping past his ear barely registering as he swung the rod, striking the shorter man across the back. The thief grunted, the momentum of his overeager lunge sending him stumbling past, buying Delver a few seconds to plan his next move. 
Or it would have, if there weren’t two of them.
A low grunt gave Krom away, but only barely. Heart lurching, Delver whipped around, his movement unnaturally fast. As he spun, something inside him burned away, the sensation sending a shiver of discomfort racing through his body. Still, he managed to slap Krom’s fist aside and follow through, ramming the end of the rod into his gut. It’s been too long since I did this, Delver thought, breathing hard, hands trembling slightly as he backed away from his assailants. He’d grown too reliant on the anchor fastened to his wrist; too willing to use its reserve of thaumic essence than tap into his own. Now the disc was empty - possibly even broken. He was on his own.
The rod, handy though it was, wasn’t doing the damage he needed. Even with its unnaturally hardened wood, the two thieves just weren’t staying down. He was starting to think the obscene amount he paid for it in Tel Shival might have been a mistake. However, before Delver had time to dwell on his poor financial decisions, he found himself accosted once more.
One knife, one fist, two angry men. Delver wasn’t a fighter. Not really. As Krom swung a punch at his stomach, Raoul darted forward, slashing at him from the side. He could only hope to stop one of them, so he swung the rod towards the dagger, barely catching it before it sunk into his shoulder. That left him open to Krom, and he acted on sheer reflex. Concentrating, sucking in a breath, Delver reached for the hum that resonated inside his body. Then, without the time or practice necessary for any finesse, he dragged it all to one spot at the center of his torso. 
Krom’s fist connected.
And the bones in his hand shattered.
The man’s scream was enough to curdle Delver’s blood. Cradling his hand, at least three fingers bent at jarringly unnatural angles, Krom stumbled away, tears pricking his eyes, a string of panicked curses bubbling from his lips. “Y-Y-You! You rat-bloody-bastard!” He groaned loudly, sounding almost nauseous as he curled over his ruined hand. “K-King’s eyes as m... my fucking witness... I’ll kill you!”
Normally, Delver would have had a snarky remark for that. You’ll have to catch me first. Tell The Errant King I said hello. Try aiming a little higher next time. But instead, he found himself also staggering, heart pounding, head spinning. Almost immediately after Krom’s fist connected with his stomach, the area briefly hard enough to rival stone, Delver had lost his concentration. What remained of his essence suddenly dispersed, like a cloud collapsing under its own weight into a fine mist. He could barely feel its hum now. It was weak. Very weak.
I need to get out of here.
Sweating, Delver backpedaled, stumbled on a broken cobble, and barely caught himself against a nearby wall. His arms were shaking something terrible, the rod in his grasp wavering laughably as he brandished it between himself and the advancing Raoul. “Last chance,” he rasped, blinking, fighting to clear his vision. And to think he’d been worried about Sylda pushing herself too hard. Divider’s Own, he was a fool. If he burned out now, that was it. He was a dead man.
“Y-You’re one of those freaks,” Raoul spat. He was shaking too, although for a very different reason. “A fucking aberration's what you are!”
On a regular day, Delver would have been impressed that Raoul even knew such a long word. But as it was, he could barely keep his feet under him, familiar shivers starting to tingle across his skin. That damn girl, he thought, an irrational anger washing over him as his remaining attacker warily advanced. She just couldn’t stay put for one night. Couldn’t even do me that one fucking favour after I---
“Raoul - stop!”
Suddenly, there was another body in front of him. Short. Brown haired. Familiar.
Delver stared, speechless. He must be dreaming. Or dead. Or both.
With a knife in each hand, Sylda jabbed one towards Raoul, who had halted mid-step, eyes wide. She was still injured, the bandages around her wrists, stomach, and throat all stained brown from old blood.
But she was there. Awake. Alive. 
“Enough,” Sylda continued, her voice surprisingly firm. Far stronger than it had been just a few hours ago. “He’s with me.”
“Ahh…” Raoul glanced back at Krom, who was clearly the leader of the pair. Unfortunately, he found him barely conscious, slumped against the wall of a boarded up building. No help there. Slowly, he turned back to reassess the situation for himself. An aberration and a miracle, both apparently on the same side.
What would he do...
“He’s your friend, is he Sylda?” Clearing his throat, Raoul’s eyes flicked to Delver. “Why, ah… why didn’t you say so?”
Delver blinked. He almost argued, then realised that this was his way out. 
“Must’ve slipped my mind.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Sorry?”
Huffing, Raoul rolled his eyes. Despite his over-performance, it was no small relief when he sheathed his knife and took a step away. “Gotta keep a better eye on your friends, girl. Nearly killed this one. He doesn’t belong here.”
Sylda just nodded. “I’ll keep it in mind.” There was a pause. “Uh… what happened to Krom?”
The man in question had started whimpering, rocking slightly, hand curled against his chest.
“He punched a wall,” Delver said hurriedly, then shot a meaningful look at Raoul. The other man, clearly looking for someone to follow, nodded.
“Oh, yeah. Got a mean temper, he does. Really shouldn’t let it get the better of him like this.”
Sylda glanced back, and Delver nodded sagely. 
While it was pretty obvious that Sylda wasn’t buying their composite lie, it didn’t really matter. Sighing, she lowered her blades and shook her head. “Fine. You’d better get him back to the nest. Davros has been asking about you two.”
Raoul stiffened. “He has? Did he say...”
Dizzy and about one sharp turn away from throwing up on his shoes, Delver let the rest of the conversation wash past him, focusing on his breathing, willing his body to comply. With the threat apparently over, he twisted the rod, the two halves sliding back into themselves. By the time he’d managed to stow it away again, Raoul and Krom were already limping away down one of the nearby alleys, their forms vanishing into the heavy dark.
“You’ve...” Delver coughed, throat painfully dry. Another fun side-effect. “You’ve got some timing.”
Sylda just exhaled, clearly as relieved as he was. She turned, regarding him for a moment; his clammy skin, his shaking hands, his over-reliance on the wall. Then she reached up, fingertips brushing over the bandage he’d wrapped carefully around her neck earlier that day. As she did, her expression softened.
“Guess I could say the same about you, huh?” Slowly, she moved closer, concern tinging her round face. “Are you okay?”
Delver grunted, offering a conciliatory nod. As much as he’d been cursing her just a few moments ago, he had to admit, she had practically saved his life. Which meant…
“I suppose this makes us even.” Delver chuckled weakly, tipping his head back against the crumbling stone, closing his eyes. Just for a moment. “A life for a life. Pretty fair trade, if you ask me.”
Sylda hummed, and the pair lapsed into a strange, heavy silence. They both knew it wasn’t the same. Not really. What Delver had done - reckless and archaic and irrational - went a little beyond intervening in an alleyway brawl. When he’d saved her life, she’d been a stranger. A murderer hanging for her crime before a crowd of thousands.
But, as it turned out, they were both willing to ignore that fact. At least for now.
“Come on,” Sylda said softly, her voice coaxing Delver’s eyes to open once more. Blurry at the edges, she held out her arm - an offer of support. It was a gesture of peace, even if only temporary. “We’d better get out of here. I’ve... got some questions.”
Nodding, pulling in one last steadying breath, Delver didn’t even have to swallow his pride for once. He just accepted the offer.
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musingdistraction · 5 years ago
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Falling for Whiskey (Agent Whiskey x Reader)
Hello Mr. Pascal lovers :D. I recently watched The Mandalorian and fell for Pedro’s sexy voice and protective dad ways. I've been looking for Pedro content and discovered the fics tag by chance... It's so much fun and your stories are great, so I wanted to contribute too, cause I have so many ideas and my imagination is running wild about Pedro these days, haha! Agent Whiskey is one of my favorite characters from him, so here I go. English is not my first language so excuse the mistakes. Hope you enjoy it :)
Summary: (3k words) You're a young Statesman agent and are assigned to a mission with Whiskey and Champagne. The initial dislike between you and Whiskey will turn into something very different later, since you are going to fall hard for each other. He’s tough on the surface but a real cinnamon roll deep down, and you are his weakness.
Warnings: +18 content, references to violence, SMUT.
After a short but impressive record of good results since you became a Stateswoman, your superiors had assigned you to a new mission. You needed to steal some key data from a drug gang which was suspected to have connections with arm traffickers and a terrorist group. Agents Whiskey and Champagne would be teaming up with you for the operation. You were not happy with the arrangement since the take-off meeting had been tense, and these guys didn't seem to be team workers at all. The agents had been distracted and mostly contradicting your ideas, mainly that damn Whiskey. You were even on the brink of starting an argument once or twice. The situation was not ideal and you couldn't wait to wrap up the mission, and hopefully getting a new assignment with new partners.
Your boss had provided the information about the target, an accountant of the mafia. The idea was to set up a distraction and steal some key data from his laptop without him noticing, so that would give you time to collect further proof of their activities before they could react. You followed the guy around for a couple of weeks, studying his daily patterns, his connections and meetings. Working with Champagne was more or less ok, but Whiskey was making things difficult. He was getting on your nerves, being surly and sometimes plainly puzzling. You were exasperated at his attitude, wondering what was the deal with the lone ranger. 
Finally the day came when you had planned to take action. You were supposed to act while the accountant was waiting for his boss in a restaurant, surrounded by some of the mafia thugs. It was not going to be easy. Whiskey and Champagne would keep them distracted. Then you would swap the laptop and leave a fake one. You would copy the data and later you would return the original laptop without them noticing. Things went wrong, however. All thanks to agent Whiskey and his seeming excess of testosterone. Instead of fulfilling his task, apparently he couldn't resist the first opportunity to attack the thugs and caused a ruckus, while the accountant fled the scene. You were frustrated, "This guy can't control himself, how are we going to succeed here?". But mostly you were bewildered since you had found that idiot to be quite hot during the fight. He was definitely fit and holding his whip in a skillful, sexy way..., you hated to be attracted to that type of guy.
It had been an epic fail that called for a group meeting where you all were scolded. Later that night you talked privately to your superior about the mission status, since you were not happy with the course of events. "Don't be too hard on Whiskey, the guy lost his pregnant girlfriend in a shooting not so long ago, with drug dealers involved. He hates them". "Then why did you assigned him to this mission?" you complained. "We want to give him a chance, he's a great asset to us and we need to know if he can overcome his trauma or we can't use him anymore". "Great" you thought, "so they are throwing us at this mess and expecting we handle this guy's issues too". You were not happy at all but also felt guilty for judging Whiskey so quickly while knowing nothing about him. You tried to imagine the pain of losing your girlfriend and a baby on the way...surely he had suffered a lot. No wonder he was easily provoked by the thugs earlier.
Next morning the team gathered in the headquarters in order to study the situation and decide the next step. You had to find another way to get the information you needed. At the beginning you were giving Whiskey the death stare and he didn't seem to know what to do or where to hide. But the truth is, after finding out what had happened to him, you saw Whiskey in a new light and couldn't be too mean. You wanted to make things work. However agent Champagne wasn't feeling so generous. At some point he casually dropped that you had suggested next time you and Champagne would do the fieldwork, while Whiskey would support from the office so he couldn’t mess up again. It was easy to tell that Champagne was joking from his mischievous smile, but Whiskey believed everything and started complaining, angry. You were amused and followed Champagne's ruse for a bit. Grumpy Whiskey was sort of cute and brought to your face a wide smile you couldn't hide. "Do you really think I would say that? We are a team. We have to do this together." He seemed pacified by your words and stopped complaining. Then, after some discussion on the operation details, you left the room a bit embarrassed since that smile might have been unintentionally too warm. Whiskey stayed there, looking thoughtful. And Champagne was still joking and laughing, maybe because he already caught that there was something going on between you and Whiskey? You were a bit upset though. You told yourself that the rough cowboy didn't care about the team or you, and you shouldn't let your guard down because of his sad story, that you needed to keep things professional...Only that was not really how you felt about him anymore.
Next day Whiskey dropped by your office and left you a document folder. He had been gathering intel about the drug mafia. The truth is he had been absent-minded and struggling since the beginning of the mission because he wasn’t sure about working for Statesman anymore…he was still quite depressed since his beloved girlfriend and their baby were taken from him. Then he had screwed up and that was a bit of a wake-up call, he didn’t want things to go that way. He actually liked his job and believed in the Statesman agency values. And there was a general change of mood in the team, with you suddenly smiling at him and all that, so he thought he should do something to contribute. You thanked him and devoted the afternoon to study the documents and review your action strategy. The guys you were facing were dangerous. You knew that the team needed to be solid in order to succeed, and that Whiskey needed to be fully on board. The guy was difficult to control and didn't like team work. You thought you knew what would take to make him change his attitude but it was difficult to take that step. After some internal struggle, you finally gathered enough courage to call him and ask for help. You asked him to elaborate on the documents he brought you and check the action plan together. Asking for help indeed seemed to operate some magic. His voice on the phone was soft when he said he was on his way to your office. He arrived quite fast. Then you sat together for several hours checking everything and discussing the details. It was a productive meeting. He actually helped and gave you good advice, and you gladly took it. His recommendations were quite clever. He seemed to be happy that you were noticeably impressed so he kept offering ideas, and you thought that was very cute of him. That night you stayed together until very late in the office, which you didn't mind since you were charmed by him. His masculine and honeyed voice lulled you and you found yourself once or twice checking his messy brown hair or his strong biceps showing through his shirt. When he casually touched your arm a couple of times to draw your attention, you felt the heat through your body. You wondered if he was aware of the effect his touch had in you. He wasn't, but he didn't miss how comfortable you were in his company or how you looked at him...and he definitely wanted more of it.
You worked on the plan together for a couple of weeks more, and things were looking good. The "team bonding" was going really well. So many hours spent with Whiskey had also an effect in you. You liked him more and more every day. He seemed to enjoy your newfound closeness and looked for you round the clock. He was very supportive and always helping. You felt he was being protective of you. One night you fell asleep during a stakeout, while you were spying on one of your suspects from a nearby apartment. You woke up later in one of the bedrooms, and Champagne casually said that Whiskey had carried you there, so you could get some rest. To know that he had taken such liberties with you and carried you in his arms…that made your heart race. The truth is Whiskey had awakened your female instincts in a way you never had felt before. He might seem tough at first sight but he had a soft side that just started showing, and you knew about his emotional scars. You were weak for him, maybe that strong but damaged guy in need for affection was your type after all? You wanted to take care of him, and that feeling intensified every time he was doing something nice for you. You felt the urge of giving him some love and taking care of him, and that included taking care of his needs as a man too...that very idea was enough to make your body temperature rise. You found him very manly, sexy, and suspected he was an expert and passionate lover. That made you fantasize about being with him and sometimes you were tempted to flirt, since he seemed to like you too. The circumstances were not the best for dating though, so you told yourself that you wouldn't act on your burgeoning feelings. Your determination proved to be weak though, since you couldn’t stay away from him. As for Whiskey, he found you very pretty and sweet when you didn’t had your guard up. He also thought of keeping the distance while working together, in order to not mess things up. However, what he wanted was to be around and protect you, and see your beautiful smile often.
A few days later, finally it was time to strike again and steal the files you were after. You had planned to get it from the office of one of the gang managers. Since the operation was taking place at a social club from the mafia, that gave you a perfect excuse to put on a sexy, revealing dress. You wanted Whiskey to look at you of course. When you arrived to the meeting point, he was there waiting with Champagne. He carelessly said that the group was not supposed to attract attention, while giving you a quick look from head to toe that gave you butterflies in the stomach. You were a bit embarrassed and blushing while reminding him that you were heading to a posh club so the dress was ok but the cowboy hat maybe not. Then you rushed to the car. When arriving at the club, your group stopped at the bar to check who was there, and Champagne ordered some drinks. You didn't know but apart from your sexy figure, Whiskey had noticed your red cheeks before. You were being too cute and looking too pretty for him to resist. The desire to touch you and kiss you was stronger than him. Suddenly he wanted to steal you and bring you far away, so he could keep you safe. Too bad he couldn't do anything in the middle of the operation... You were distracted watching your target -the club manager- leave towards the garden. Then, suddenly felt Whiskey's hand on your waist while he called your name and made you turn and look at him. It was for a second that he touched you, but it was firm, intimate, the kind of touch men use to sound out how welcome they are in your personal space, a warning that they are going to touch you more if you allow them. Your heart was pounding when you faced him. He approached your ear and said "Be careful, princess" in a low voice, and then winked. "We're going outside, see you later", said Champagne and they left you on the spot, distracted.
The agents headed to the garden, following the club manager. Finally alone, you were able to breathe again and quickly focused on your part of the job. You had to steal the content of the manager's computer in his office. This time everything went well and your team could finish and run from the place with no one noticing, bringing some valuable info that would make your boss happy. The operation was a success and the team gathered for some drinks at the bar later that night. Pretty soon, Champagne had started flirting and left with a girl. Your heart fluttered when it suddenly downed on you, that you were alone with Whiskey. But you already had a couple of beers so none of you were so timid anymore. He blocked a guy that tried to flirt with you, totally looking like a jealous boyfriend. It was pretty obvious what was going on there. You talked about the mission for a while and complimented each other's job. Then he smiled and looked at your dress, his eyes shining. "I see you're wearing a dress again tonight, you look very pretty in it ". "Should I wear it more often, then?" you said in a flirty tone... "But only when I'm around so I can protect you from the unwanted attention". Things were heating between both of you and your cheeks were burning. Then he smiled, "Hey, I love this song, come here", he pulled and made you stand up by him. By the time you started complaining about the old-fashioned tune, he already had grabbed you by the waist and was dancing slowly. You were a bit surprised by the move, but quickly shut up and surrendered to the sway and his physical proximity, allowing him to take the lead while looking at him in the eyes. “You like it, don't you?... I can think of other things that you will like, miss". Still smiling, he leaned in for a kiss. He was soft and slow, while holding you tight. Soon the kiss turned more passionate and you needed to separate in order to catch your breath. He looked at you intently and said "Let's go to my place, baby. It's too loud here and I want to be alone with you". For a second you tried to weigh the possible cons of that idea, but you liked him too much to stop there, so you agreed. In the taxi, his hand was resting on your thigh and you felt the burning heat between your legs. You kissed throughout the cab ride. He was running his fingers through your hair and while catching breath between kisses he promised "I'm going to treat you very well, princess". "You better do", that's all you managed to respond before he took your lips again. When you arrived to his apartment, the door closing after you sounded like heaven. Curious about his personal stuff, you explored a bit the living room, apparently to Whiskey's amusement. He approached smiling and grabbed you by the waist, "Do you like this cowboy's humble place, baby? Well, get ready to see the bed, because I'm going to ride you there". Then he started kissing you and lifted you in his arms. You wrapped your legs around him and got lost in his kiss while he carried you to the bedroom. Your fingers got entangled in his hair while he was unbuttoning your dress and kissing every centimeter of your naked skin. The way he touched you and looked at you was a big turn-on, so decisive, so confident and masculine. On the bed already, his hands all over your body, later his head between your legs made you lose your head. He seemed to lose it too when you slipped your hand in his underwear and started playing with his cock, which was ready for action. You noticed his excitement and kept teasing him, playing bad girl. That made him felt the urge to give you what you deserved. "What do you think you're doing, come here", he grabbed you and placed you underneath him, kissing you again, while pressing his hips towards yours. He still had his boxers on but you could feel he was so hard against your entrance. He played around it for a while and you showed your desire, by grabbing his butt and pushing him against you. Then he teased you, introducing the tip of his finger in you. "Oh baby you are so wet, you have no idea how much I like it.” He kept playing with his finger while kissing your neck and then going down to taste your nipples. Excited, you arched your back and made him go up in order to kiss him again, your hands running through his hair, next towards his back. “I want you so much”, you wanted him to know how much you desired him. He seemed pleased to see how excited you were. He kissed your neck and went up to bite your ear, suddenly feeling the need to assert how you belonged to him.  “You know your pussy is mine, don’t you? You are mine now". Then he stood up and took off his underwear. You knew what was coming next, which made you even more excited. He leaned down on you and you hugged and kissed, this time completely naked, with no obstacles for the imminent intercourse. After some exquisitely desperate waiting and begging him to take you, he also couldn't wait anymore. He was on top of you, moving his hips so his cock would slide and position itself against your entrance. You were so wet and he was so hard that the tip entered you with no need for further guidance. Next he penetrated you slowly, taking his time, savoring your moans and the look in your face. He lied on you, holding you in his arms, one hand on your back, the other sustaining your head. He was on top of you, holding you tight and close to him, then started thrusting inside you with passion. Feeling his weight and the grip of his strong arms increased the delicious sensation of being helpless and possessed at his pleasure, his hips moving over you and the friction on your clit bringing you to unknown enjoyment heights. He certainly knew his way around a woman’s body. As you vibrated with pleasure under him, he felt more excited and wanted to be even more inside you, so he silenced your screams with a kiss, his tongue deep in your mouth. Then you completely surrendered to the feeling of being his, let go of all resistance and reached your climax. You kept making love for a while since your thirst for each other was not satisfied yet and he wanted to play with you more. When he came later, you felt so full of him and happy. Both of you were covered in sweat and exhausted. His  blissful smile filled your heart with joy. He caressed your hair and showered you with sweet kisses. But his adoring brown eyes fixed on yours was what made you feel weak and realize that you had a serious problem going on there. You were falling in love.
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anyrchyangel · 4 years ago
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MDZS fanfic sensitivity beta
Hi~ I’m Ana
I’m,,,very bad at Tumblr >.< but I am writing a fic in the mdzs fandom and would really love a sensitivity beta to look over some of my canon references and use of Chinese terms. I’m very new to the wuxia/Xianxia genre and I don’t want to accidentally say or use a term that offends or misrepresents the genre.
Beta-ing is hard work and I’d never expect anyone to sign up to beta without having first peeked at what they’d be working on, so I’ve placed the first chapter of my fic down below.
Some disclaimers/primers: this fic is a crossover between Kimi no na wa/Your Name and mdzs--you don't have to have seen Your Name to follow along, but it wouldn’t hurt to know the plot I am ripping off >.< It includes body swapping and a major character death (if we count wwx dying and coming back to life as mo xuanyu as actually dying...) and for some reason, I have made everyone witches...yeah. Sorry >.< WangXian is the main (and kind of only) ship! Rated T solely because I am incapable of not cussing. I don't plan on writing any smut or explicit scenes for this series <,< (...for now.)
Anyways, here's chapter one of the series. Please let me know if you’d be interested in beta-ing for me! I really want to polish this fic before posting it on ao3 or anything >.<
he who swallowed a falling star
chapter one [everything must have a beginning]
Mornings have never once been Wei Wuxian’s friend. He hates mornings—he hates the sharp light of dawn and the cacophony of noise that comes with the world waking. He much prefers the night, the quiet and stillness, the ambience and mystery. There’s no mystery in the mornings—there’s only groggy musings as one cracks open their eyes to the stinging light of day and wipes away crust from their lashes. His body always violently protests to waking—sleep is so precious! It’s calming and good and nice and to be forced awake is among the greatest tragedies of mankind.
Except…except this morning he doesn’t feel like groaning and burying his head into his pillow. This time, his body actually feels sort of…good? That can’t be right. No one feels good in the mornings; the only ones who do are sociopaths and masochists.
And yet as he stretches awake with a yawn, his limbs feel light and his mind feels rested. So much so that his surroundings are immediately clear.
He has absolutely no idea where in the world he is.
He’s in a bed, at least that much is clear—a very soft bed with sheets that smell like sandalwood and covers with textured silk. Exquisite fabric, he’d never so much as been allowed to touch something so expensive before—he has a knack for putting stains where formerly there were none, so all of his own clothes and sheets are of durable fabrics. Stains add character! There’s a story behind every stain…not always an exhilarating story but a tale, nonetheless.
The room in which the bed he is resting on is absurdly clean. So clean as to seem clinical, or maybe decorative, as if he’d stumbled into a dollhouse meant for display purposes only. It’s lovely, a pretty screen separating the bed from the sitting area, decorated with an elegant painting of mountains bathed in mist. The furniture is expensive and luxurious and just looking at how nicely it’s all been cared for makes Wei Wuxian break out into hives. What even is the point of owning furniture if you’re not going to use it?
He taps his chin and tries to remember the night before. Just how much liquor had he drunk to find himself warming someone else’s bed? Had he even been drinking last night? Shit…maybe he should take shijie’s advice and cut back a bit. His eyes wander to the finger tapping away and he pauses because…well that really doesn’t look like his finger. Or his hand. Or his arm.
He scrambles to the nearest reflective surface—a basin of water in a porcelain bowl that’s probably more expensive than everything he owns combined. The face that looks back at him is…breathtakingly beautiful. Skin the color of white jade, softer than the inner petals of a peony, silky midnight hair draped down broad shoulders to rest at the small of his back, and bright golden eyes somewhere between the shade of the sun as it reflects on ice and wheat dancing in a breeze upon a gilded field.
It’s so beautiful that it narrows down the theories currently running through his head down to two: A) he has died and (mistakenly) ascended to heaven to live the rest of eternity as the most beautiful angel to have ever existed, or B) he’s dreaming. B) seems more likely, especially since the likelihood of Wei Wuxian going to heaven is probably somewhere in the negatives. Plus, witches don’t go to heaven…or technically even believe in heaven. Not to say that there isn’t an afterlife but—he’s rambling. His mind is whirring with so many thoughts that even he can’t keep up with them all.
“Huh.” Oh this man’s voice is so deep and rich that Wei Wuxian’s spine tingles at the sound. “Shit, even his voice is beautiful.”
He hums a few nonsensical notes just to listen to the different octaves; a deep voice, but a melodic one. He wonders if this person is a singer—he certainly has a lovely voice for singing. His eyes wander around the room, searching for…well he’s not really sure. His own body, perhaps? Proof that this is a dream? Or maybe signs of spellwork gone incredibly wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time one of his experimental enchantments went awry.
He starts rummaging through drawers and opening doors, hoping to learn more about the person whose body he now possesses. The handsome stranger is astoundingly boring. Not a speck of dust anywhere or a book out of place—even the poetry on this person’s shelf is…bland, at best. He tosses open the closet, hoping for literal or figurative skeletons. Someone this perfect can’t possibly exist in real life. Maybe instead of a dream this is a hallucination—Wei Wuxian has trouble believing that his active mind would conjure someone so dull but, well even he has off days. Or nights, he supposes. Is it night where he’s dreaming? Doubtful, given his sleep schedule but—he’s rambling again.
Within the closet hangs a full-length mirror, and he pauses in his rummaging to admire the body of the most boring person he’s…well they haven’t technically met, have they?
He’s even more beautiful in the crystal-clear reflection, tall and toned with arms that should be illegal. Wei Wuxian grins and quickly strips off his outer robes (so white that they remind him of mourning robes. He gets distracted when he imagines the scene he must have made whilst asleep—so ethereal and white and pure); the image that greets him is ridiculous. Abs that could cut steel on skin the color of flawless white porcelain, not a blemish in sight. His fingers dance across the muscle, laughter bubbling out of him. Oh what a sound—this gege really is perfection given flesh, isn’t he?
He smiles at his reflection and conjures as many funny faces as he can come up with. Well if he’s stuck in an angel’s body, he might as well have some fun, shouldn’t he?
.
.
.
Wei Wuxian bounds across the halls, chased by the knowledge that he is most definitely late for breakfast. Dawn has already segued into late morning, and if he wants any sort of meal before lessons, he will have to sprout wings and fly across the residence—an idea he’d actually toyed with before, but enchantments that alter the flesh are too finicky and he quite likes keeping all his fingers and toes.
He mentally prepares himself to face the routine “How could you have slept in so late!?” from Jiang Cheng and the “A-Xian, are you not sleeping well?” from Yanli and the knowing smile from Jiang Fengmian, matched only by the scathing glare from Madam Yu that has accompanied every breakfast he can remember having at Lotus Pier. To which he will smirk and tease Jiang Cheng, complain and pout to Yanli, return Jiang Fengmian’s smile and cautiously avoid Madam Yu’s gaze.
Wei Wuxian loves his morning routine, even if it doesn’t technically count as having happened in the morning.
“How do you always manage to sleep in so late!?”
Ah, Jiang Cheng is so predictable—Wei Wuxian loves that about him.
“I was having the best dream!” He responds as he flops onto his mat at the table, shoveling food into mouth as fast as he can pour extra chili sauce onto everything.
“Oh? What about?” Jiang Fengmian’s smile is no less endearing for being as predictable as Jiang Cheng’s anger—perhaps even more so because of it.
“Hmmm,” he pauses in stuffing his face to try and remember his dreams, but the haze of sleep has yet to lift, “huh—I can’t actually remember?”
“How do you know it was a good dream if you can’t even remember it?” Jiang Cheng’s sneering makes him smile, bits of rice on display for his favorite (and only) brother.
“I don’t have to remember every detail to know that it was a good dream!”
It’s true—although he can’t remember anything of what he’d dreamt, the feeling of joy lingers, even as the fog of sleep lifts under the light of day.
“Here, A-Xian, have some lotus seeds. I saved some for you.”
He gulps down some tea to clear the sticky rice from his teeth and perches at Yanli’s elbow with his lips parted, her eyes crinkling into adorable crescents as she pops a lotus seed into his mouth.
“A-Li.” Even on the best of days, Madam Yu’s tone could strip paint from the walls, varnish from the wood within the halls; it was like listening to the crack of a whip, or the rumbling of thunder. Yanli wilts under her strict gaze, eyes dropping to the hands she folds in her lap.
“I am glad to see you back to yourself, A-Ying.” (I’m not sure this is a good way for jfm to address wwx—in the original text he never actually says wwx’s name, but he does call jc A-Cheng; I want to show here that jfm favors wwx) Jiang Fengmian’s tone is the opposite of Madam Yu’s; soft where hers is harsh, calm where hers is agitated. The difference between them is jarring—like the crack of lightning meeting the quiet currents of a flowing river.
“Yes, how very fortunate we are to see you returning to your ways.” Another crack of lightning, this one closer to the babbling brook that is Uncle Jiang, the waters left disrupted and discordant.
“Wait, what?” Wei Wuxian has never feared the thunder, nor the storm.
“You went psycho yesterday and woke at dawn. You even cooked breakfast, but it was bland as shit. It was honestly the most disgusting thing I’ve ever eaten.”
Where Yanli wilts under Madam Yu’s glares, Jiang Cheng grows more uncertain, and uncertainty breeds anger within him. Except this anger is often a guise, smoke to the fire that is his worry. Wei Wuxian smiles at him, basking in the concern the same way a flower dances in the breeze.
“Aw, don’t sound too concerned Jiang Cheng.”
The way he snorts and rolls his eyes makes it easier for Wei Wuxian to gloss over the fact that he can’t really remember the day before. An odd gap in his memory, but he shrugs it off and sneaks more lotus seeds from Yanli, who hides a smile behind her hand as she passes him the morning paper.
“Did you see? The comet will be visible on the day of the banquet. Maybe we’ll see a falling star or two.”
“Hmm? Would shijie like falling stars? Maybe I’ll catch one and bottle it up, just for you.”
Her laughter is honey, her smile sunshine; perhaps he should bottle that instead, for use on rainy days or cold winters when the lotuses close their petals.
“A-Cheng, you have lessons to attend to. You do not have the luxury of falling behind.”
“Yes, mother.” The only time Jiang Cheng ever sounds subdued is in deference to Madam Yu, and the sound grates against Wei Wuxian’s ears.
“A-Xian, you should head off to lessons too. You don’t want to be late.” Yanli sneaks the last of the lotus seeds into his hand; he’s convinced she’s on a mission to fatten him up, to which he has zero complaints. If he could gorge on shijie’s lotus seeds for eternity, he would.
“Oh? From what I hear, Wei Wuxian’s time is better spent hunting pheasants and flying kites with the younger witchlings.”
What a nasty storm to deal with so early in the day. He doesn’t fear thunder, but nor does he seek rain.
“The kites were actually an enchantment I was testing out. I finally fixed the talisman to facilitate one’s qinggong[1] to the point of weightlessness. Those kites were—”
“You did what!?”
“There’s no need to shout, Jiang Cheng. The actual enchantment is pretty simple if you cast on the right night. I have a theory that the casting is a lot easier during a full moon, but I managed just fine when it was waning—”
“You—Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng’s cheeks puff with indignation, his face as red as the chili sauce Wei Wuxian slathers on every meal.
“Yes, I’m here!” He answers with laughter, snickering and dodging as Jiang Cheng lunges for him, waving at Yanli as he darts out the room. He’d skip class if he didn’t want to write down another idea for an enchantment in his grimoire, of which he’s about forty percent sure is in his desk…or buried under his other inventions somewhere in his room. Or maybe he left it in the atrium when he was searching for a specific constellation?
Jiang Cheng chases him from the residence, out through the courtyards and down into the docks of Lotus Pier. He smiles and waves at the merchants, eyeing all the pastries and water chestnuts, winking at runny-nosed children from the nearby households. His heart feels both heavy and light—too full to dream of moving and yet so buoyant he might drift along with the next passing breeze.
The giant lake gleams under the light, lotuses dancing and swaying in the wind, the sound of home bustling around him. Wild magic whispers through the air, flows through the undercurrents of the lake, along the waterways for miles and miles until it reaches the ocean. An idea pops into his head to attempt to track the energy, map out the ley lines, but he catches the shadow of a pheasant nearby and pushes the thought down his list of priorities.
He smiles and dodges Jiang Cheng’s attempts to toss him into the lake, grappling each other into headlocks as they make their way towards the lecture halls. He sighs at the idea of another long, boring monologue in spellcraft theory, but the idea of enchanting a few papermen to dance behind the Adeptus keep his steps light. The witchlings always love a good show—perhaps he’ll put on his own little play for them. With the right paper, he might be able to craft a jade rabbit and play the story of Chang’e and Hou Yi. Maybe he could make them sing? A whistle from a witch is a powerful thing. Or he could tell the story of Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods—his head buzzes with ideas, excitement filling his veins at the prospect of researching more of the lost stories of old gods and immortals.
Endnotes:
[1] Qinggong (in most cultivation/wuxia novels) is the art of manipulating qi to walk on water or move across surfaces; it’s also a real technique in Chinese martial arts. Read about it here
If you got this far, thanks for reading! Even if you're not interested in beta-ing, I’d still love to hear feedback! I don’t normally post such long pieces on Tumblr, but I wasn't sure what else to do >.< I hope you liked it!
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spnfanficpond · 5 years ago
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December Angel Fish Awards
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Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.
The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.
NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle or Mana to check and make sure we got your submission.
WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE DECEMBER’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!
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Nominated by @princessmisery666​
Gone (oneshot) by @there-must-be-a-lock​
@impala-dreamer​’s end of year quickie challenge was a great one but this on by @there-must-be-a-lock​ stuck with me. So much emotion in under 500 words :) 
Why Can’t There Be A Santa (oneshot) by @risingphoenix761​
This was kinda heart breaking and fluffy and sweet all at the same. I love me some fluff!! 
Who’d Have Thought (oneshot) by @firefly-in-darkness​
Daisy got me all hot and bothered with this one and then unexpectedly pulled my heart out of my chest!! Love a surprise ending and a bit of smut!! 
Nominated by @flamencodiva​
A Series of Firsts (series) by @fictionalabyss​
I love her story a series of firsts! it is amazing to see the ups and downs and the alternate endings.
Wayward Hearts (series) by @foreverwayward​
This has to be my all time series re-write! I think Brittney captures the story so well and is able to weave Riley into the story as if she is actually a part of the show! Brittney does a good job in her storytelling and the romance between Dean and Riley is so innocent and pure! 
Moonstone (series) by @impala-dreamer​
This is one of my favorite stories by Beka! it was one of the first ones and it wasn’t the last I have read of her work. I love the dynamic and the story she wove in. I’m also always a sucker for a hero and protective Dean. 
His Property (series) by @negans-lucille-tblr​
This is an amazing fic! I love the bdsm and the way Dean is set up in this! It is a great and hot story as well as a well woven story of angst and unrequited love in the underlying reading. The twists and turns of this story also have you on the edge of your seat! 
Nominated by @wildfirewinchester​
About A Boy (series) by @percywinchester27​
The series is amazing, and it perfectly encapsulates Dean’s character. It also has enough hints here and there where you always think you know what’s going on (sometimes you do, sometimes you don’t), and then there’s a twist and you get to find out whether or not you were right! The idea is so original and I’ve never read a fic with the same premise. I’m always so excited when I see there’s a new part and I always have to read it right then and there.
Nominated by @sorenmarie87​
Five Minutes (series) by @idabbleincrazy​
This fic started out sweet, moved into angst and somehow rounded out with its ending.  I won’t spoil it for those who want to read it but it was worth it :)
What Hurts The Most (oneshot) by @iflostreturntosteverogers​
Carrie is great with writing angst and this fic, even though it was for a challenge, managed to do that with only 500 words.
Flip (oneshot) by @luci-in-trenchcoats​
It’s no secret that I love A/B/O fics but I think this is the first one that I’ve read that involves body-swapping.   
Nominated by @manawhaat​
Who’d Have Thought (oneshot) by @firefly-in-darkness​
Ok, the smut is lovely. Smut is always lovely, but what earns this a nom is the last fucking line. I was slapped in the face, hard, with the goddamn feelings. And as much as I hate that, I’m also a SLUT for that shit! 
A Different Kind of Therapy (series) by @saxxxology​
JESUS CHRISTO. There are only three chapters out right now but the whole premise behind this is just FASCINATING! I’ve read about different kind of meditative sex therapy, but the way this unfolds is really unique and honestly, I feel like this should be a fucking thing in the real world. It’s definitely worth checking out. 
Nominated by @lovetusk​
I’d like to nominate Special One (oneshot) by @evansrogerskitten​  & The marvelous lands of Sam’s chest (oneshot)  by @focusonspn​ for the simple fact that I am a Sam girl and a total sucker for not only Alpha Sam, but also his chest hair. Yum.
Nominated by @impala-dreamer​
Renegade (oneshot) by @princessmisery666​  
Very nicely done!! The descriptions were lovely and I heard Billie’s voice so clearly!
Bite Me (oneshot) by @maddiepants​
OMGOMGOMG me toooooo!!! This is just perfectly delicious and naughty and… sames. Sames… the TEETH!!!!!
Ghost Rider (oneshot) by @squirrelnotsam​ 
I LOVED THIS SO MUCH! Such a clever idea! Like, of course he would attach himself like that! And he’s still so …DEAN. protective and sassy and Y/N is perfect. I loved this a whole bunch!!
Nominated by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters​
Strong leader type having to physically fall down in order for people to see they’re exhausted (oneshot) by @imagineteamfreewill​
I decided to start the new year off right by finding my way back into the world of tumblr spn fics after an unplanned hiatus. And what better way to do so than by spreading the love through these amazing awards? This is the first fic I came across and I immediately fell in love. Anything that emphasizes how amazing and hardworking Sam is - and how he deserves a break and all the love in the world - is something I’ll defend with my life.
Vision of Love (series) by @princessmisery666​
Second fic I wanted to put a spotlight on is this prequel to an amazing series by an amazing author. I remember reading parts of this before I went MIA and I cannot wait to finish the series and find out what happened now that I’m back. For now, I’m reveling in the wonder that is this fluffy prequel.
The marvelous lands of Sam’s chest (oneshot)  by @focusonspn​
If this isn’t a mood, I don’t know what is. It’s hot, it’s sweet, it’s everything I’ll ever need. Yes, it is indeed so good that I felt the urge to rhyme.
Unstoppable (oneshot) by @evansrogerskitten​
Talk about sexual tension. I love the idea of the reader hiding her true nature and the consequences that had. On top of that, the author’s writing is amazing as always.
Christmas Gone Wrong (oneshot) by @peridottea91​
Next up on my mission to spread the love is this fun little domestic oneshot. I love the bickering and the jokes. Also, now I’m craving cookies.
Masterlist by @pink1031​
I was so excited when I saw this author on the new pond members list, meaning I could nominate her. She’s an amazing writer and I couldn’t possibly pick just one fic to nominate, so I went for the entire masterlist instead. Besides a talented writer, she’s also just an absolute gem who works hard and deserves to be recognized for it.
Nominated by @slytherkins
Recompense (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield
Pretty tasty. Kinda makes me want to piss Dean off. (But that might just be my inner Brat talking.) <3
Nominated by @thelittleredwhocould​/ @samsexualdeancurious​
Old Man (oneshot) @manawhaat 
This fic is a companion/sequel/alternate ending to one of my own fics and I LOVE it. I was so excited when Mana came to me with it. Some good old fashioned Alpha!John/Omega!Reader smut. So, so good.
Lucid Lies (oneshot) by @manawhaat 
Fucking love this fic. So, so good. I’m a sucker for a good djinn-related story cos they’re the perfect vessel for the best angst and this is no exception.
Maybe (oneshot) by @manawhaat 
Read this if you want to cry cos this has ALL the feels. All of them.
A Bed is a Bed (series) by @saxxxology​
I think this one is inspired by a play and Saxxy was texting me when she planned it out. So, so good. Saxxy does a great job setting the scene and unf the smut. *heart eyes*
About a Boy (series) by @percywinchester27​ 
I’m in loooooove with this series. I’ve never been big on young!Winchester fics but the premise of this is so good and the payoff is even better. I can’t wait to find out what happens next.
A stranger in need (oneshot) @percywinchester27​ 
I love the AU in this fic and I’m not gonna tell you what it is cos that would give everything away! This is just so good. Sam is such a sweetheart and I just adore him.
Caught (series) by @thecleverdame​ 
I’m just dying for the next chapter of this fic! The concept pulled me in immediately. There’s only two chapters on Tumblr so far but omg I just. Love it.
This is How (oneshot) by @mrswhozeewhatsis​ 
Angsty angsty angsty angst. Love it. I’m not the biggest Amelia fan but I this peak into Sam’s thought process and feelings at the beginning of s8. So good.
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Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!
As with the BFAs, these are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D
THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!
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maybemitch · 6 years ago
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CHANGE OF HEART
Description: Swapping sides can be the thing which either makes or breaks you.
Word Count: 2,772
Warning: Swearing + Minor Character Death. Epsiode 3 Spoilers!
Fem!Reader with Delta
No proof read! Sorry for mistakes!
Part 2?
This is the first time i’ve followed an epsiode with the official dialogue. It’s different for me, but i still hope you enjoy it.
———
“I’m ordering you stay with Minerva,” Dorian raised her voice; the authority was noticeable in it to anyone which knew her. “If any of these act up, it’s your responsibility to put them straight. And for god sakes, make sure Minerva doesn’t try anything with her old girlfriend”.
“Yes, ma’am,” Y/N replied without making eye contact, her hands were wrapped tightly around her crossbow, her feet slightly shuffling, “I won’t let you down”.
Dorian placed a hand on the girls shoulder, Y/N had to repress the need to flinch. The young girl had always hated her new family touching her, it reminded her when they took her away from her original family, from the people which she cared about. But she knew if she showed one sense of longing for her past life, she would be punished - and she didn’t want that, not with the ways the Delta punishes people.
Y/N watched at Dorian dismissed herself, leaving the room, so the only occupants inside now being; Minerva, Y/N and the prisoners they had collected from Ericson. Y/N peered over her shoulder, her eyes trailing on Minerva who was walking around in a small circle, muttering to herself about how she can stay calm - her former girlfriend must have hit hard to home.
Y/N took a deep breath, then began to walk down towards the prison cells, wanting to keep up to date about the situation she is in. Y/N looked into the cell on the right, the ones which held two males inside. She had watched how her group had dragged the two in, being more violent with the one which had a wounded leg.
The one who wasn’t wounded looked at the girl, a dirty look thrown her way. She wanted to apologise, to inform him that it was going to be okay and if they just listened to what they were told then no harm would be done to them. But even if Y/N did that, she knew deep down she would by lying. She couldn’t foresee the future, she couldn’t see the events which were to happen for when they made it ‘home’. Y/N knew as much as a newborn baby at this point - absolutely nothing.
“How’s his leg?” Y/N asked, pointing to the male which was sitting on the make shift bed. She could see how he was cradling his leg, the bullet obviously still buried deep within the human flesh, “I would advise him to apply pressure to it. If needs be, i have a make shift bandage. That’s if you’d want it, from me”.
The wounded males friend walked to the door, closing his eyes for a moment before looking side to side - obviously being alert for Minerva. “Are you allowed to do that? For us?”
Y/N looked down to where Minerva stood, she was still in the same position she was when Y/N had first checked on her, walking in a circle. Y/N nodded and stuck her hand into her pocket, pulling out a handy rag she uses to rid her face of walker blood. She threads her small hand through the gap in the door, dropping the fabric into his hand.
The male takes it, only for Y/N to hold his wrist, “Just make sure Dorian or Minerva doesn’t see it, okay? This will get me in trouble”.
She backed away from the door, peeking her head into the next door, the one which had the small child and the male with the dreadlocks. She could see how the small child was looking at her and she didn’t blame him. If she was in his small shoes, she would be doing the same. To him, she was the enemy. To her, he was the enemy.
“Y/N. Have you seen Dorian?” Minerva shouted down the hall way. Her voice had startled Y/N, this was evident when she jumped as she turned around, a suspicious impression on her face, yet Minerva turned a blind eye to it. Y/N shrugged, the response being open, allowing the girl interpret it however she needed it to be. Obviously, the response wasn’t good enough for the last standing twin as she rolled her eyes and groaned, “If you’re not going to be any help, then i’ll find her myself. Just make yourself useful and keep an eyes on these people”.
“If you want to boss me around, i’ll have to remind you where you stand, Minerva,” Y/N dragged out the name, as if it was toxic to her tongue. She could sense Minerva standing still, watching her intensely at what she says, “You and I both know that i’m more valuable than you. Therefore, i would suggest you speak to me with respect. Wouldn’t want me to inform Lilly on your behaviour, would you? And for a matter of fact, i’m already looking after them, incase you can’t see”.
Y/N stood still for a moment. She examined the red haired girl, the way she lowered her head at the way Y/N spoke to her. Y/N could see how Minerva’s hands tightened around her weapon as she turned around and stalked towards the exit Dorian had taken not long ago.
Y/N allowed a smile to take over her face, a victory in a way, she had always found a happy place in putting Minerva in her rightful place. Y/N peered over to the door which had the small boy in and found him no where to be seen, she looked up to the dreadlocked boy who diverted his eyes away from her, not wanting to give anything away.
However despite not knowing where the young boy was, she had a feeling that he was crouched down behind the metal sheet and that feeling was concerned when something was slide across the hallways and collide with her foot.
Y/N looked down and that’s when she sensed a shift in everyone, as if they were holding their breaths. She could feel the girl which was named Clementine staring intensely at her as if she was afraid she would scream bloody murder and get someone in there with them. Y/N could sense the dreadlocked boy staring at her also, biting down on his tongue, Y/N could also tell that he was ready to shield the small child with his arm if need be.
Yet, Y/N just looked down at it, nudging it slightly with her foot, then lifted her head up. She turned to the dreadlocked boy who held a sheepish smile and then towards Clementine who had the same look.
The girl from Delta shrugged before kicking over to Clementines cell. She nodded towards the girl before pirouetting to walk away.
“Thank you,” a voice whispered, Y/N turned to where the small boy stood now behind the metal sheet, “You’re not like them, are you?”
“Shush,” Y/N walked away as Dorian returned to the scene.
———
Y/N stood to the side as she watched Lilly speak to Clementine. She wasn’t paying attention to anything she was saying, not wanting to be held accountable for the stories being told. Y/N knew what Lilly was playing at, that was all down to the fact she had been a part of Delta for a while and knew their ways like the back of their hand.
Y/N was startled at the sound of metal being banged. She turned her head to where the dreadlocked boy was banging the gate, shouting at the story Lilly was telling, “You... You brainwashed her! You people are fucking sick!”
Dorian was the one which sorted out the male shouting by point her finger at the male, shouting in the same tone, “Y’all better back away from the door”.
Y/N closed her eyes, trying to cancel out everything which was happening. She knew Clementine was retaliating to Lilly and she knew Lilly was going to stand her ground. However, she didn’t know how this unnamed boy would be handling it, especially when Lilly had ordered for him to be pulled out of the cell.
Dorian gestured Y/N to open the door, the young girl obeyed, not wanting to be punished later on for not doing it. She could sense the fear radiating from him, him totally unaware of what was going to happen. Y/N could hear Lilly talking once again to Clementine, in the back of the mind she was wondering if the women in charge would ever shut the fuck up.
“Stop! Don’t hurt Louis,” the small child shouted as he protected the older boy when Dorian pulled out a meat cleaver, “Or i’ll hurt you”.
Y/N had to suppress a laugh which was bubbling in the back of her throat. The little child was chatting back to an adult without any fear evident in his voice.
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck,” Louis mumbled as he was thrown to the floor, Dorian gestured for Y/N to lean down and hold him still and she followed the order, “No, no, please, Clem”
“AJ, no!” Clementine called out, which was the exact opposite of what Y/N had wanted to happened.
Y/N closed her eyes as Dorian sent to cleaver down onto Louis little pinky, removing it from his body. She could feel Louis fall still for a moment under her hands, the pain obviously not kicking in just yet, but the moment she removed her hands, i. resulted to a ball, cradling his hand in pain, screaming out.
Dorian ordered Y/N to take him inside the cell, therefore she did. Grabbing him by the shoulders, she walked him into the cell, out of view from the commotion happening outside between Lilly, AJ and Clementine. Louis couldn’t look the girl in the face, who would after the stunt her people has just pulled? However, the moment Y/N placed a hand on his wrist and pulled out another rag from her back jean pocket he looked at her.
“I don’t need you help,” he snapped quietly - he obviously held some sort of respect for her considering he could make loud noises to make everyone aware there was a conversation occurring between the two, “And i certainly don’t need your sympathy”.
Y/N rolled her eyes, applying pressure to his wound, creating the male to hiss out in pain, “Apply fucking pressure to it, otherwise it will get infected and you’ll lose more than a fucking pinky”.
Y/N jumped back when Lilly began to drag AJ away. She shot Louis an apologetic look before slipping out of the room herself, only to stand behind Minerva holding her weapon a higher.
Y/N placed a hand on Minerva shoulder, yet the red headed girl shrugged it off in an instant, “Don’t. Don’t you dare look at me like that. This is the only way we survive”.
“Bullshit,” Y/N snapped, Minerva and Clementine both turned their attention to the girl which was now resting up against the wall, “You know for a fact we can survive without fucking torturing people. But no, we just have to do it to show our fucking superiority!”
Minerva scoffed, taking a step forwards, “Wouldn’t want me to go report your behaviour to Lilly now would you? After all, you seemed to have changed your whole perspective after this”.
“Oh, very brave,” Y/N mocked as she pushed herself of the wall, the heel of her foot was messing with the lock which held the two unnamed males to her, “What you going to do? Shoot me?”
Louis finally came to terms with what Minerva had said to Clementine and came up to gate bellowing, “After everything she’s done... you’re just going to help her?! Fuck you! Minerva!”
“Fuck. Off,” Minerva shouted as she stepped closer to Louis’ cell, Y/N found herself slipping away, her foot still messing with the lock of the other cells door, she had managed to slip her hand in without Minerva looking at her.
Louis has seemed to catch on what both girls - Clementine and Y/N - was doing, therefore decided to play to distraction plan, in hopes it works, he didn’t want to screw this up. “What the hell happened to you? You KILLED Sophie? What the fuck!? You just decided, ‘hey i’ll work for these people, they seem friendly enough!’”
Minerva rolled her eyes, her eyes diverting to Y/N quickly as she watched her take a step forwards, “Don’t act like you understand what happened! You weren’t there!” In the background, Violet began to make some noise, chocking, causing Minerva to turn around in a worried manner to look at her former girlfriend in panic, “What the hell are you doing? Stop!”
Minerva crouched down to open the door, Y/N managed to slip open the other cell door a jar, awaiting for the two males to notice it. Clementine barged through the door, sending Minerva to the floor. As Minerva crumbled to the floor the bow and arrow she held feel, Y/N looped her foot in it, kicking it more backwards, so the red head couldn’t use it against any one.
Clementine began to open Louis’ door but was prevented from doing so as Minerva tackled her to the floor, kicking her feet from beneath her. Y/N took the advantage of Minerva been preoccupied and kicked open the other door and finished opening Louis’ allowing for the males to emerge from their dark room.
Louis nodded and headed directly towards to the bow and sorrow, applying it to his hands, “Stop, Minerva. I’m warning you!”
Y/N saw a figure emerge from the end of the hallway. She was quick on her feet, wanting to protect Louis, she dived towards Dorian, her hands swinging. However, the women saw this coming and shoved her sharply to the wall, sending the young girl crumbling to the floor. Louis jumped around, his finger slipping on the trigger, sending an arrow right into the mouth of Dorian, killing her out right.
Y/N pushed herself up, her body weight on her hands which were supporting her. She could sense the regret in Louis, therefore she removed the crossbow from his hands, throwing it to the floor. “You’re okay. It was you or her” Y/N tried to reason but Louis wasn’t hearing anything as he was constantly apologising to the corpse.
Violet came out the room she was held in, her eyes laying on her unconscious former girlfriend and ran right to her, avoiding Clementine in the process.
“Violet,” Clementine said as she pushed the door open Y/N had already opened, sending a thankful nod to the girl which was somewhere between sides, “We have to go. We planted a bomb on the boat”.
Violet was holding onto Minerva, apart of Y/N was feeling guilty with the state Minerva was in, but she deserved it in some form. Violet held an anger gaze on her face as she snarled back to Clementine, “Fuck you, there’s a bomb! Mitch is dead! All because of her side,” Violet pointed a violent figure to Y/N, “You just... fucking GO!”
“We have to get the hell out of here now,” the unwounded boy stated as he held onto the one which had the bullet wound on his leg.
Y/N looked behind her, “I know a quick way of the boat, come with me”.
Clementine nodded to her people, “Follow her. I have to find AJ,” she waited for Louis to reply to her but didn’t want him to do what he suggested, “I’ll be fine. Follow her”.
“Better see you on land,” the unwounded boy replied.
“You will”.
Y/N stood there for a moment, before jerking her head back. She crouched down collecting the cross bow and the arrow which was in Dorians head, “Come on. It’s this way”.
“Why... why are you helping us?” The one which was wounded asked as he held onto his two friends as they walked, “You didn’t have too. We invaded your home”.
Y/N shrugged, “Sometimes, you come to the realisation that you’re fighting on the wrong side and that fucking sucks. Sometimes people have a change of heart, for the greater good,” she looked around the ship area, looking for the way and smiled when she saw it, “Come on, its this way”.
The three males from Ericson followed the girl from Delta without question, they all wanted what she wanted. They wanted to survive.
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harmonal · 6 years ago
Text
Hidden Boarding school Au set in their final year. Y/n suddenly feels her life shift when she sees a familiar face walk into her Biology class. Part 1 of 2
Pairing: Jimin x Oc/Reader
Word count: 6,000 +
Genre: Fluffiest of Fluff with some Angst
Warnings: None so far!
Authors Note: This started as a dream I had the day before valentines and I just had to write it down! Thank you for reading all my dribbles.
Rowland Private School became not only a home but it became my life. 6 years I had spent walking through the Victorian style building, it’s dreary outside contrasted with it gothic designs within its walls. A 10ft hedge surrounded the perimeter, its presence essentially shielding the building from the outside world and in turn preventing us from seeing what lay beyond.
Don’t be confused, I had enjoyed my time here. It gave me the best education I could hope for but with only 1 year left, I felt a dread slowly build inside me as each day past. The eventual departure into the adult world was coming up too fast, I was not in any way prepared. I would laugh a long with friends, well class mates, as they joked about the situation. Many already had futures with their families, CEO positions, businesses to take over, some to become doctors, some heirs to thrones, some planned to take a gap year and here I sat unsure. I hadn’t seen my parents in 2 years, my mother abroad on some diplomatic business and my father in Australia running the family business. I had been sent here as a spritely 11 year old and I haven’t left since. It was the first day of the semester, Biology class with Dr Park. A middle aged woman, her dark hair cut into a stylish bob which matched her choice of outfit. She had always chosen her outfits carefully to match the status of the school. This wasn’t a place to wear a fuzzy jumper or jeans. The class struggled to settle with the excited conversations of summer adventures and plans for the rest of the year. Several boys boomed with laughter from along the back row. Their faces just out of eyesight but I could easily imagine their eyes squeezed shut with tears as they continued their conversations. Dr Park tapped the board and the class become quiet, yet not everyone was focused as she wanted. I snorted as paper aeroplane flew across the room and hit the boy next to me in the face. My hand instantly covering my lips.
“Y/n is there an issue?”
Dr Park shouted across the classroom, her hand gripped onto her pen tighter as she paused mid sentence.
“No Dr Park. I’m sorry.” I could see the floor just swallowing me up, I hated the way my cheeks burned when attention was on me.
Instinctively I covered my face more with my small hands, the cooler touch of skin on skin helped with the blush.
“Are you okay Tae.” I whispered to him. Taeyung was one of the few I would call a friend. He gave me one of his signature box smiles in response, his eyes were soft and glowed with the autumn sun that cascaded upon his features. I nodded and picked my pencil up, I tried to focus, Biology was one of my strongest classes. I originally had aspirations of becoming s doctor, maybe a vet, I wasn’t so sure anymore. Classmates head began to turn towards the door and out of curiosity I did too. What I saw was a mop of blonde hair that covered his face, a frame slight under the same uniform we wore for school. Yet his face showed so much distaste.
“Ah good, class please.”
Dr Park coughed as she ushered the boy to her side. His posture one of apprehension standing in front of everyone , his face still looked to the floor, soft eyelashes outline dark eyes as they scanned the feet of the students in the front row.
“We have a new student starting with us today who will join us for the final year here at Rowlands.”
The classroom murmured as they took in the boy who stood before us, his hands ran through his hair nervously as Dr Park nudged him forward.
“Please take the seat at the back for me.”
The only empty seat at the back sat behind myself and Tae, he casually walked towards his seat as Dr Park caught our attention again. Two large diagrams filled the board. “Now, who can tell me the difference between an Animal Cell and a Plant cell?”
.…
“Did you see the way those girls looked that new kid today?” I laughed as Taeyung hung himself upside down beside my on the bed. His legs stretched up my wall and his arms fell behind him touching the floor with his finger tips. He was an odd ball.
“Do you know his name?”
He suggested. He had obviously been lost in his thoughts, his eyes looking towards the pattern of stars on my ceiling.
“Err no. I don’t.”
“I bet Jungkook would know,” he smiled as he shifted onto his stomach and reached for his phone. The screen shone with a selfie of us, a beautiful summers day last month that we had shared. Yet again my parents had left me here instead of having me at home and Tae was kind enough to stay too. My shoulders slipped down the wall until I was laying parallel to him. “Jungkookie knows everything,” he smirked searching for the boys contact. Tae presses call and waited as the dial tone blasted through his phone.
“Tae Hyung, what’s up!” His voice blared against the rumble of voices around him.
“JungKook, I need some information. Do you know anything about this new boy in our year? He came into Dr Parks Biology class this morning. “
“You mean the blonde one who’s sat right next to me.” He laughed, my body suddenly tensed up. “It’s Jimin. Man, I haven’t seen this kid for years since I was in Busan!”
Tae turned towards you, mouthing the words Busan, his eyes searching yours for any indication of an answer.
“Ah thanks bro, I’ll speak to you later.” He sat up pressing his shoulder to mine. His phone locked in his hand and he threw it off the bed. “Well?”
“Jimin from Busan? Don’t know him.”
My voice hitched as I said that name, the words tasted like vomit as I tried to keep my nerve, how could I look Tae dead in the eye and lie to him. I did know a Jimin, I knew Park Jimin. How could you ever forget your the name of your childhood friend. The small chubby boy with glasses that would accompany you anywhere. His voice echoed in your mind, the sound of giggles and screaming as you would play in the sea. But those memories were merely on the distance and it was now the present, they weren’t relevant anymore. It couldn’t be the same boy. Not after he left you, his family left yours, the hatred your parents had for them. You were separated and was told to forget him. And he to forget you too.
...
“His name is Park Jimin.”
“Do you think he’s related to Dr Park.”
“He sure is handsome.”
“He’s adorable.”
“Apparently he’s up for the soccer team.”
“He used to play for his old school.”
“I wonder why he moved schools”
“Do you think he got in trouble ?”
“Expelled?”
“Maybe something illegal ?”
It was endless, it had been a week since he first came into that classroom. I hugged my knees closer as I say between some girls from my class. The warm sun shone above as we waited for our turn again during our physical education class. Mr Kim had decided on a British sport called Rounders, like the American Baseball but less shouting and sliding. He mixed the classes so girls and boys were together. To my dismay Jimin had been put on my team yet no one else seemed to mind. The girls all seemed to just fall to his feet and it was turning me sick.
Lisa and Rose blushed as he looked our way, he sat just behind me in the line. They had not stopped chatting about him since the start of class, I merely nodded when they expected a response. Maybe the eye rolls weren’t a big enough hint for them. I smiled sweetly as I stood for my turn to bat, I wasn’t the best at sports but I’d give it a good go when I had to. I begrudgingly pulled down the silly sports skirt I was wearing, why the school chose such ridiculing uniforms I didn’t know. I took my stance in front of Jungkook who was enjoying pitching, his powerful throws caught most off guard but I knew him well enough now .
“Cmon kookie,” I blew him a kiss, “show me your worst.”
He smirked in reply and threw the ball square at me, I quickly swapped hands and back handed it to the right. Jungkook jaw hung low in surprise as i began to speed towards the first base and then the second and the third. If only I was fast enough but smaller student named Min Yoongi had already thrown it to forth.
I hesitated behind a tall boy at third, his long arms ready for the ball. I recognised him as Taeyungs room mate, a joyful character named Jung Hoseok but they all called him J hope. I could see why, his smiled out shone anyone around him, I looked towards the base and saw Jimin take the bat I had ditched just moments ago. It was becoming later in the day now, the orange sun cast behind him and silhouetted his body. He had matured into his body, no longer chubby but a defined arms, chest and legs. I shook my head, no, it wasn’t the same guy. I had to get that silly idea out of my head. Park was a common name and there has to be more than one Park Jimin in Korea.
“Y/n run!” I heard Tae scream from the side lines, in daydream moment Jimin had hit the ball hard and it was heading straight towards me and at my head.
I swore as it collided hard against my skull and as my body hit the ground. The pain throbbed as I pressed my hand to my face. It had hit my forehead, I could already feel a bruise forming and tears building in my eyes.
“Are you okay, I’m so sorry.” The hands were soft, fingers light as one hand wrapped around my arm and the other under my chin. My eyes met his, his iris dark ,his nose scrunched when he was unsure.
“Y/n”. His voice breathy and shocked. His grip loosened as the crowd formed around us.
“Now now, everyone back away.”
Mr Kim forced his way through the students. “Are you able to stand”. He asked me as he nudged Jimin out of the way. Mr Kim reached down and grabbed my hand, his strength pulled me up and I wobbled as I stood. My head hurt beyond belief, my stomach began to do flips. I almost fell straight back down.
“Okay okay. Looks like a concussion to me. I think it’s time for you to go back to the dorms.” I nodded closing my eyes, the earth seemed to move below my feet, stars appeared and my vision became dark.
... My eyes felt groggy as I peered open into the room. The pillow felt soft against my head, woollen blanket covered my bare legs. I suddenly shot up in the bed, why were my legs bare ? What happened to my uniform. I looked down and just saw my bra and underwear. Instinctively i drew the blanket close to my body and wrapped it around myself. “At least I’m still in my room,” I quietly laughed to myself, I winced as the pain shot through my head.
The sun had already began to set, the shadows cast along my tiny room. I looked to my desk, I grabbed the small mirror and looked at my face. I didn’t look too bad, the bruising sat above my right eye, it had already started to turn purple but luckily not much swelling. I hesitated to touch it.
The closed door of my bathroom unlocked, instantly I reacted and threw the mirror in its direction . A shocked Jimin stood with his hands up defensively, eyes wide like a doe. The mirror shattered on the floor and I felt my heart sank, it was one of my oldest possessions .
“What are you doing in here?!” I demanded, holding the blanket tighter to my semi naked body.
“Whoah I come in peace little dumpling.”
I squeaked at the name, it wasn’t something I had heard for 10 years.
“I brought you back to your room.” “How do you know where I stayed?”
I felt my voice become higher, I was panicking. I wasn’t sure why.
“Taeyung and Jungkook showed me.” Traitors, the both of them. He still had his hands up in the air.
“Look, now you’re awake I guess I’ll leave. I’m sorry.”
“For what?” My voice felt bitter. “For your head.. and I guess that mirror .” As he smiled you could see his eyes light up, the same as they did earlier.
“So I’ll see you around“. He smiled once more walking towards the door. I stood still, one hand against my chest and another on the desk. My heart rate was sky high, my mind racing.
What had just happened. Park Jimin was in my room. He saw me in my underwear. Heat filled my cheeks once more, I had become irrational in the moment.
I grabbed my phone and two texts appeared .
Taetae [one way to entertain the class. that was crazy how you managed to throw up everywhere. Give me a text when you’re up and ready for dinner! ]
Unknown [Im sorry again]
That would explain the lack of clothes. Concussion did normally lead to nausea and memory loss. I sat back on the bed, waving my fingers over the two texts. Undecided who to reply to first.
Y/n [meet me for dinner in 10 mins?]
Taetae [sure, I’m already down in the hall with Jungkook].
Great, he was probably enjoying all of this. His childish nature brought out the worst in Tae. I sighed and slowly reached for casual wear in my bed side draws before applying as much concealer as possible to my forehead through wincing. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was the talk of the school now after that mishap and sure enough, all conversations stopped as I walked in and sat behind the boys.
“Ah here she is,” Tae wrapped his arm around my shoulder as I sat next to him. “Your head looks alright,” tilting his head to have a better view, “does it hurt?”
He giggled as I pushed away from the pain of his finger pressing into my forehead.
“You little ..” I pressed my lip to stop the curse, his hand now by his side. I looked around the table. Tae sat next to Jungkook, with yoongi, j hope on the other side. They all seemed too engrossed with food to notice another person sit down. He sat next to Jungkook on the opposite side to me. The six of us on the end of the bench like tables. I couldn’t not notice the bright blonde in this light , the colour suited him, it defined his face. Soft features now formed into a straight cut jaw, sharp lines, smokey eyes which seemed to stare into your soul.
Jimin coughed suddenly , I had been staring far too long and he noticed.
“How are you feeling?” It was almost a whisper, as though he didn’t want anyone else to hear. “I’m okay.” I really needed to get over myself, he made my heart jump a beat each time his eyes met mine. He made me flustered. He made weak. He made me frustrated with myself. Tae nudged me in the ribs.
“Lisa has some crazy idea that she wants to have a party now the snooty old prefects are gone! You in?”
“When is it?” I questioned, my body turning to his.
“Tomorrow night.” He smiled.
“But that’s a Tuesday night.” I spoke in hush, surprised at the day in question.
“The teachers wouldn’t expect it. Less patrol and less prefects to interfere.”
“I’m in.” I needed some fun for once. The same old routine was becoming bleak and boring.
“You wanna come Jimin? Be a good chance to meet some of the girls.” Jungkook called across the table, Jimin looked up from his plate to me and then to Kookie. His face complex. I watched as he pondered his decision, the corner of his lips turning up as a smirk appeared. His eyes met with mine.
“Sure why not.” Why was he staring at me like that. It made me shiver, if it wasn’t for the warm body of Tae almost pressed next to me on the bench then I would have assumed I was cold.
“Good. It’s a plan then. I think Lisa said she’s just gonna hold it in the common room. I know all the soccer team are already going.”
“No surprise there.” I snorted, ideally stirring the peas on my plate, avoiding the eye contact that burnt into my head.
“Well you know what she’s like.” Tae said dramatically. “Remember that one year . Her and Taemin got caught in the lower hall toilets.”
“No way!” Jimin laughed. “Did they get in trouble?”
“Well no. Her daddy paid off the school to keep quiet. She didn’t however.” I rolled my eyes.
“Are all the girls in this school sluts then?” Jimin questioned.
“What’s that supposed to mean.” I snapped.
“Well I’ve already seen one in their underwear.” His voice playful as the table started to roar; J hope laughing as Yoongi almost spat his food everywhere, Jungkook slapping the table laughing as Tae questioned Jimin.
“Who’s the girl? Duh you’ve only been here 5 mins and already a hit.” He smiled at Jimin. But Jimin still had his eyes locked on mine. Who did he think he was. Tae was right, he’s only just arrived at the school and wants to give off that impression. I guess he wanted to be known as a player then.
“Okay, games in our room?” Tae stood up from his spot almost tipping me off the edge of the bench.
“Cmon Jimin, why don’t you join us? I’m sure Jungkook needs to some fresh competition around here. Y/n, you coming?”
“Yeah guess so, I was that hungry anyways.” I placed my fork down on the half empty plate and walked after Tae towards the dorms, shamefully aware of Jimin walking behind me. I consciously continued to have the conversation in my own head, was he really the same child I knew.
... I was still attempting to convince myself otherwise several hours later as I sat on the floor with my back against Taes bed. Jungkook and J hope fully indulged in a game of Mario Kart. Some students were blessed with more lavish rooms provided by their parents, Taeyung not being an exception. His parents were art dealers and ran several galleries across Asia and Australia. His side of room hung replicas of his favourites, whilst J hope had some random K pop posters on his walls. He says it’s like nostalgia to him seeing bedrooms the way they were 10 years ago. I just enjoyed looking at the girls outfits if I was honest.
I relaxed my head against the soft mattress of Taes bed, Tae sat next to me on the floor whilst Jimin, J hope and Jungkook sat on the bed. You could feel the bed move as they over exaggerated their movements on the screen. It was funny, I couldn’t deny it. J hope always knew how to light up the room with his jokes and funny gestures. Jimin had been unsurprisingly quiet, well he was quiet compared to the rest of them. They all wouldn’t shut up. He did remind me of that child but the one I knew wasn’t shameful, boastful or generally an ego-tistic person who this Jimin was. The way he stared, the way he smirked. I internally groaned, I took my phone out to pass the time. Flicking through social media to pass the time, seeing Lisa’s latest twitter update advertising her party. My phone vibrates with the text message tone.
Unknown [you never replied to my message earlier]
Y/n [who is this? And how did you get my number?]
Humming under my breath. I knew exactly who it was, it was more the method he got my number. It was though I could feel his breath on the bass of my neck, the heat from him behind me. I knew his legs were crossed and I could feel his weight dipping the mattress.
Unknown [now now dumpling. How could you forget me?]
Y/n [how could you forget me Jimin]
I heard him laugh under his breath. That was a bold text, more of a test. I waited for a reply but none came, the boys were settling down now. It was getting close to curfew when we all had to be in our rooms. The only disadvantage about a boarding school is the rules. One of the only reasons I was looking forward to leaving, I could make my own rules .
“Okay guys, I’m gonna head to bed. Got some homework to do anyways. Thanks for the fun!”
“But Y/n you didn’t even go against me!” Jungkook pouted at me, his soft young features made him look like a child.
“Next time Kookie. I promise!” I waved at everyone before opening their door and leaving.
The hallways were quiet at this time of night, many students were already in their rooms. Many studying or doing homework. Curfew had always been strict for us, all students regardless of age or class had to be in their rooms by 8.30pm sharp. The social scene wasn’t huge at Rowland’s but we made do with the little events we had. We had a prom every summer and a winter formal, it was just some excuse for the older kids to sneak in alcohol and take advantage of the later curfew. The school might be for the higher end students but they sure didn’t act it when it came to having fun. Lisa was a prime example, Jungkook or Tae weren’t saints either. The memories of their phones being confiscated due to a group chat they created, you can only imagine what it included. A tune hummed between my lips, soft melody raising and falling, it was of my favourite piano tune. One I could never remember the name to but could hum the whole song effortlessly.
The girls dormitory was in a separate wing to the boys, you had to walk down a back hall way past the open gardens of the school and up a floor. I aimlessly scrolled through my phone as I walked, notifications of group chats, a text from Tae appeared. I stopped to open it up, too many times I’ve walked straight into dorm thing whilst engrossed with my phone.
Tae [you seemed a little off this evening. You okay?]
Y/n [i’m good, don’t worry about me 😘]
“Y/n.” I thought my heart had jumped from my own chest, the sudden voice caused myself to jump and almost drop my phone. I stumbled as grabbed it before it hit the floor, my hand reached for the wall to push myself back up.
“Jimin.” I attempted to catch my breath back again as i spun to him.
“Why’d you scare me like that!” “Sorry.” He looked to his shoes.
“You need to stop saying sorry.”
“Okay.” We both stood there, only the moonlight to illuminate the hallways through the ceiling high windows. It felt awkward, as though neither of us knew what to say.
“Look..” “Y/n..”
We both spoke at the same time, both gesturing for the other one to speak.
“I got your number from Tae.” He said first. He looked sincerely at me as to encourage me not to retaliate once more. Maybe he remembered the mirror incident earlier too well. “I asked for it last week, when I saw you sitting with him in that Biology class. I wanted to see if my mind was really playing tricks on me Y/n. My parents told me i’d never see to you again.” He stepped closer, his fingers reached for my face , brushing stray parts of my fringe from my face.
“It’s not swollen much has it?” He smiled into his chest as his fingers lingered touching my skin. It stung where he lightly pressed but I couldn’t concentrate with his close he was. His eyes were the same, how I could I not realise before but they were the same. The small sweet smile, I looked up to him as he towered over me. He may be shorter compared to the other guys but he was still taller than me.
“It really is you. Isn’t it?” My voice small and faint, not really believing what I was saying.
“Who else would I be? Little dumpling?” He shook his head and took a step back from me, hands trembling as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Why did you leave?” I knew I should have eased in with a better question but it was all I could think of.
“My father made that decision.” His back now turned away from me. “I.. we.. they didn’t want us to talk to each other any more. Our families decided.. they..”
“They what Jimin?”
“Nothing. Actually I don’t even know I thought it would be a good idea to come here, to this school.”
“Pardon?” He turned and looked at me, dead in the eyes with his lips sealed shut. “Jimin. What aren’t you saying?” I pushed further. My mind racing. My eyebrows knitted together causing my head to throb slightly.
I wasn’t the type of person to enjoy having secrets kept from me, especially from someone like this. I knew him but didn’t at the same time. A decade had passed since we properly knew one another, now he stood before stammering as though the words were stuck in his throat.
“Nothing. Let’s pretend I didn’t say anything.”
“No. You can’t do that!” I began to yell. Grabbing onto his hoody.
“You can’t just re appear in my life like that. Acting all strange around me. One moment being kind and then an asshole when the guys are around. What do you take me for? Some dumb blonde.” I could feel the rage burning inside, there was confusion, distraught and most of all frustration. “I haven’t seen you for 10 years and you’ve yet to grow up. We’re 18 not 8 anymore.” The words echoed down the empty hall. He still stood before me, watching me, that same stare he did before, it made me itch.
“Just tell me what you want to say!” I demanded once more. “Jimin.” It felt more like a please at this point. My body was pushed against the cool glass of the window, soft hands pressing my face into his. His gentle lips touching mine, all I could do was whimper at sensation. My arms had gone limp and my hand released the grip on his hoody. In my mind what felt like minutes was only seconds, my lungs had forgotten to function and I gasped for my air as he pulled away. He placed his finger against my lips.
“Shh. Someone is coming.” Panic began to set in as I saw the clock on the wall behind his head. It read 8.40pm, 20 mins past curfew. We were going to be in trouble. Not only for being up late but also Jimin not even being near his dorm at all.
Footsteps seemed to become closer in the hall. I tilted my head in the direction of my dormitories. Jimin nodded his head in response, we navigated ourselves in between the shadows til we reached the door. “Quick!” I whispered as I pushed it open. The sound of the door clicking shut was louder than expected and I heard the disgruntled voice beyond it. Shaken, I scrambled for my keys in my pocket. The small silver key that belonged to my dorm room door slammed into the lock and with a wiggle I pushed the door open.
We collapsed against his other on the floor, mirroring each other’s actions as we sat with backs against the door. Almost feeling as the action would create more security. I turned my head to face him once more, his lips were parted as he was breathing heavily. Gentle strands of blonde hair hung from his forehead. Eyes narrowed as they looked back at me. I could have easily been lost in that moment and didn’t care.
“What was that kiss about back there?” I whispered once more.
“It was the quickest way I thought to shut you up.” He weakly smiled.
“You never answered the question either.”
“I think it’s time I should go back to my room.” He began to stand to his feet.
“No. You still haven’t answered.” I stubbornly replied and I attempted to get to my feet too.
I watched as his hands pulled the door open and taking a quick glance outside.
“Good night Y/n.” I looked up to him again, he gently placed a kiss on my cheek before walking straight out of my room, and essentially disappearing again whilst my mind had so many questions. ....
My eyes were still open when the first alarm blared next to me. I didn’t need to turn my head as I swung my arm at the phone.
A million voices circled my mind as I tried to conjure up an answer for last night. Why did this happen, what did my parents try to hide, what was I meant to do now? Just go on as normal? I had tried to texted Jimin but no reply I assumed he was asleep. I rubbed my eyes rigorously in a feeble attempt of erasing the sore, dry crust that had disgustingly formed around them.
“Eww.” I muttered whilst pottering around to gather uniform for breakfast. No end of make up could hide the purple circle under my eyes, matched with a now yellow/green bruise on my forehead. I wasn’t even sure how I could have forgotten about that. About the incident, about jimin seeing me in this room. Without clothes on. The thought made me shiver.
It wasn’t as though I was shy with my sexuality or body, I wasn’t. Lisa had made sure of that over the years.
But that felt too intimate for us, I struggled to envision it. Both of us to be that close to each other, I won’t deny ever fantasising about it but I was constantly reminded about how much like brother and sister we were. So it eventually left a sick feeling in my mouth any time I thought of him any other way than my brother.
Now I felt frustrated with the memories, I remember the day it happened, we all had been around the Parks for dinner. The father had just come home and my parents said we were leaving. And that was it, i was enrolled with Rowlands the next week and sent on my way. Why didn’t I push more for it? Maybe I was too excited to finally be away and in boarding school. I missed Busan dearly.
... The usual suspects sat around our normal breakfast table, Yoongi deep into his notes as a strong beat thumped in his headphones, J hope was chatting to Jungkook who smiled as I sat next to him.
“Good morning Miss Zombie.” They both giggled. I did my best attempt of a stare which only created more giggles.
“Wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Jungkook continued, he rolled his eyes before turning back to J hope in their conversation. Tae looked at me concerned, he reached over the table with his hand, a simple yet deep gesture.
“I’m okay.” I whispered to him. He wasn’t stupid, he knew something wasn’t right. I didn’t want to burden him with anything though, he already had enough on his plate with the pressure from his parents. However, his deep eyes seemed to suck my soul in and I couldn’t resist telling him things. It was though he was begging me as he kept the eye contact.
“Am I interrupting?” Jimin smirked as he sat next to Tae. He eyed me up, I felt naked as he scanned my face and hung on my eyes. There wasn’t a blanket to hide behind this time, yesterday had felt like it happened months ago. I looked back to Tae and in that moment he knew. He knew it was Jimin.
I wanted to cry, I wasn’t normally a crier but between the situation and my lack of sleep, and with the head ache that had started to pound I could feel the tears begin to fill my eyes.
“I don’t feel well. I’m gonna go to the nurse.” I stood up sluggish and walked out, my movements slow as I staggered out of the canteen and towards the nurses office by the front reception. But heavy footsteps and voice stopped me.
“Wait Y/n.” I was happy and equally disappointed as I turned and saw Tae. “Cmon lets go talk somewhere.”
I simply nodded, no words to respond even if I did my voice wouldn’t have made a single word without bawling.
He dragged me into the nearest empty classroom, as soon as the door clicked shut. He pulled me close and held me tight. The familiar smell, his aftershave smelt strong and the warmth from his skin made my face burn.
We stayed still like this was a few minutes whilst he rubbed circles into my back as I attempted to fight back the tears. I needed to stop, I needed to calm down. I was over reacting and it was making me more frustrated. The more frustrated I became, the more tears began to fall down my cheeks and Tae in turn held me tighter.
I sniffles and began to pull away. “I’m sorry.” Attempting to laugh in between the tears. I rested my arms back against a table facing Tae. He smiled at me sympathetically.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“It’s really complicated.” I wiped the corner of my eye with my right sleeve, the wool material scratching my skin.
“Try me.” He folded his arms as he mirrored your actions and leaned against the adjacent table.
“I knew Jimin before last week.” I looked at him to gage a reaction. However, he didn’t even move an inche but silence implied for me to continue. “My parents and his were close, we were close. Then suddenly we weren’t. I got shipped to this school and never saw him again til last week. I had no way to contact him or even know where he was. Then he spoke to me last night, said some things... did something and now here I am with no make up on, haven’t slept at all and crying my eyes out to my best friend cause some of guy.” Tears re-emerged as I tried to control myself.
“Sorry I’m just getting frustrated.”
“It’s okay. What did he say? If you don’t mind me asking ?”
“That his father decided we couldn’t be friends anymore basically. I asked him what that meant but he wouldn’t tell me. I just want to know Tae, I was stupid to never question it as a child but he kissed me Tae. Jimin kissed me.”
The colour slowly drained from Taes face, his expression like stone but his eyes gave him away. He didn’t like that, he really didn’t like the idea of Jimin kissing me. Tae had always assumed the big brother role, defending me and protecting me. It didn’t surprise me he was trying to do it again.
“Well did you want that?”
“I don’t know . Maybe? No? I don’t know.” I felt dramatic. I was over this conversation already. “ I think I feel better now.” I looked to him as though to plead not to continue. “Okay lets go.”
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animereviewsandotherstuff · 6 years ago
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Top 5 anime of 2018
Pop Team Epic
Anime as a medium is something that allows for great experimentation and artistic expression that not every delves into, and that is ultimately okay. Not every show has to be something new and exciting. But then there comes a show like Pop Team Epic. A 4-koma manga that takes the slice of life genre and plays with it by adding absurdist ideas and a healthy dose of meta humor. A manga like that is not something I would ever expect to see adapted into anime. The jokes are super quick and sometimes work on anti-humor, the art is simplistic on purpose, and there is no story just gags. But I am very happy someone had more foresight then I did and just adapted it whole hog. This anime takes what it means to be an anime and turns it on its head. The first episode started on a completely different generic anime about a guy and idols and a possible harem and immediately swerves into the show proper. Every show ended with a preview for that fictional show. The ending theme was sung by different people every episode. The who was only half the run time and then it would run again with a different set of voice actors, swapping from an all woman pair to an all guy pair. Sometimes this would change whole jokes as the voice actors would make different choices. They would swap between different art styles and redo whole segments between episodes swapping between Pop Team Epic proper and Bob Epic Team. They had a segment all in french, animated in a third completely different style from the previous 2 which cost a ton of money to make and was written by a french intern who never read the series or something. The last episode had a live action pop singer bring the one of the main characters come back to life. This show was beautiful. It was a true work of art with layers of meaning and references, an experimentation of what an anime could be. Not every show should be this, but more shows should be able to just go wild with what an anime could be. Or maybe I was just thinking of Hellshake Yano.
Yuru Camp
There is a genre of anime I like a lot even though I usually know the return on investment for watching them is not super great. The best way to describe this genre is “the author has a very specific hyper-fixation and wants to write about it but doesn’t know how, so makes moe girls talk about it instead.” This is a very hit or miss genre but sometimes a show will come out of it that will stick with me forever. And Yuru Camp is one of those shows. Yuru Camp is a show all about girls camping. The authors love of camping really comes through, as the characters talk about the rules of camping and how to do it safely, and about how expensive the gear for camping is. The conversations the characters had felt surprisingly natural. Some of the back and forth the characters had felt like a conversation I could have with my friends. The best part about this show was how relaxing it was. This show was a calming breath. It was a show that knows how to set back and let a scene breath, like you are one with nature, fitting for a camping show. There is another genre of anime I like that can be hit or miss, known as healing anime. Healing anime are soft, kind, relaxing shows that are like chicken soup for the soul. Yuru camp is like that. It is relaxing and kind and made my day every time I watched it. But the most impressive thing this show did was make me, someone who hates nature and being in nature, actually consider camping for a few seconds.
Cells at Work
I am not someone who enjoys the intricacy of the human body. It is a gross thing we are all forced to live in. so when this show was first announced I had a bit of trepidation about this show. I don’t like watching the workings of the human body, it makes me uncomfortable. But this show was really was able to get past my initial discomfort and make the human body something interesting and more fun.  The story of the human body as told from the perspective of the cells who help run the body was perfectly told. It makes you sympathetic for your blood, fighting against the germs and diseases we come into contact with, rooting for the red blood cells who deliver your oxygen and the white blood cells who protect you, and makes you intimately familiar with your lymph nodes, and sweat glands. I really appreciated the small arc involving cancer of all things. Cancer as told from the perspective of the cells is really interesting, watching there fellow cells not become infected but born so, and the necessary need to kill them coupled with the inherent want to protect the body is an interesting perspective to take. It is not saying cancer is good or anything ridiculous like that, but it is just a perspective I was not expecting and one that led to an interesting story. The anthropomorphizing of the body and its cellular interactions was clever and engaging and made this a show I was glad to watch.
Planet With
I am not the first person to say this but this was the best show to come out of 2007. Everything about this show felt like a throwback to a very specific era of anime. A story about giant physic armors controlled by young teens and young adults fighting against aliens, the reversal of who were truly the good guys and truly the bad guys.  The larger themes of why one should fight and shouldn't fight, of growing up and reality being greater then any passive but beautiful fantasy, all fit into a show from a decade ago. Even the maid girl and the giant cat alien and the high school club for people who like supernatural stuff, the transfer student with amnesia being the main character, all of it fits a show that could have been a 52 episode series with slow reveals and mysteries and filler beach episodes. But instead this show was a tight 12 episodes. Each episode packed so much information and plot and action, it feels like watching more then your actually getting. It is concise but the emotional impact of every reveal and every hit is perfectly done. The best show of 2007 was also one of the best shows of 2018.
SSSS Gridman
Tokusatsu and anime are two great tastes that seem to rarely come together. It might be that there is something lost when live action goes to animation, at least when tokusatsu does so. Something intrinsic about tokusatsu, something that is fundamental to it, doesn't always survive the jump. This cannot be said about SSSS Gridman. This show captures the spirit and heart of tokusatsu shows and takes it to another level. It is a love letter to tokusatsu as a medium and to the original Gridman. The fact that the title of the show is a reference to the American adaptation, Super Human Samurai Syber Squad, alone shows a knowledge and love of the material. But at the same time I never felt the show was bogged down by references and external knowledge. Yes there were millions of references to other tokusatsu series, mainly Ultraman but not Ultraman alone, but you didn’t need to have an encyclopedic knowledge of Japanese live action shows to enjoy the show. They enhanced but never detracted in my opinion. Same with the fact that the show itself is a sequal to the original Gridman series while still standing entirely on its own. If you never watched the original you are fine, but it is enhanced so much with that knowledge.  And the ending had me in tears. I don’t want to spoil anything for these shows but like many tokusatsu series finales this one too made me tear up slightly. Truly a show I will carry with me into the future.
And those were my thoughts on the year of anime. This of course isn’t counting tokusatsu I watched but I love Kamen Rider and Super Sentai enough that they would be a permanent place on this list, so its only fair I keep them off. There was a ton of good shows other then these five, but I am looking forward to the new year ahead. So until next time, keep on watching.
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krakenator · 6 years ago
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Chapter 11 aka “Welcome to Chili’s”
SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally for The Property of Hate
Masterpost here
Oh damn alright that answers my earlier question of “what will cause RGB to make like a cuttlefish”. He can fiddle with his colors at any time, but he’ll fritz and settle on colors after power surges as well
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And he DODGES the black button question. Look at that anxious cane fiddling!
White knob handles color, black knob brightness, he’s just shown that the white panel opens to adjust brightness/saturation/color… is the black button just plain off?
“I lose you I leave you” is such a damned lie lmao
Let’s see what kind of Stuff people trade here!
Moments manifest as clocks, har-har
I’m in love with the borzoi vender bc I love borzois they’re such ridiculously ethereal dogs
Don’t like your current eye? Trade it for a better eye!
or you dont care about eyes, just revenge-feelings
Kisses of varying flavors, all shaped like X’s
STOP RIGHT THERE crimincal scum. RGB stole a farewell kiss (HAR HAR). But seriously, does the Market have law enforcement for this kind of thing?
I’m sorry but my shit fandom brain see’s discussion about trading body parts and my mind immediately goes to Skulduggery “lost his original skull when sleeping and replaced it by winning another one in a poker game” Pleasant
Incidentally ALSO a story about a standoffish dapper non-human taking a young girl on Adventures
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uh oh
Lmao he ends up dropping his cane in panic
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I love the movement in this panel. RGB just scooping her up with one arm
Goodbye New Suit we barely knew ye
RGB’s able to fine tune his pallet extremely specifically for just 3 sliders
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This might be my favorite interaction in the entire damn comic
CAREFUL RGB YOUR ATTACHMENT IS SHOWING
I love how RGB decided “you know what i like what that quick camouflage did for my trousers, I’m going to coordinate my upper half to match it”
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Interesting visual and sound effect- we saw a character swap out heads earlier without that CRACK. Considering Assok’s had trouble twice now with static cling to RGB’s face, is this an electric spark of sorts?
I like the detail that Watcher only speaks in one word sentences
God but that cane is convenient. What I wouldn’t give to have possessions that are impossible to lose
I love RGB quietly, actually checking in with Assok after accidentally knocking them off Hero’s head
And now for something completely different!
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WHOLESOME ASSOK HUG
RGB’s starting to poke her towards her epiphany about the Make Believe
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As a someone who spent a long time being a short person that’s such short people talk RGB
Dude I skimmed over Dial’s dialogue this page last time because, really. Look at it. So lets actually read this sucker
Oh shit Dial actually mentions the Elastic Valley way before we get there ourselves
He’s got to what now. TOby is there on a JOB? Someone put him here on PURPOSE? I thought he just ended up there and was so surly to every fucking thing and everyone passing by was like “ok u can stay there rudepants”. What’s he on watch for?? Unless it’s far more punishment than it is useful assignment
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Bad puns, go to jail
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Oh shit does Watcher have another pair of eyes on his wings? Damn! For a guy with 4 eyes he sure is not very helpful at his job later on!!
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Hooo does his boss make Dial nervous. Lookit that stutter and devolution to muttering
When Dial says TOby took his eye off things, is he referring to letting RGB+Hero pass by (how would he stop them)? Is it that the wind blew him over and blocked his vision (THAT IS LITERALLY NOT HIS FAULT)?
And what the hell has TOBy done to defy Hate previously? What does he have opinions that Hate/Dial would have him change his mind about?
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See you space cowboy…
And because I can’t make up my mind on what to meme here: “mm whatcha saaay”
A thought on Dial’s design… his head says “ON AIR”. Later we know that Hate can listen in on him. D’you figure he ever makes himself “OFF AIR” other than when he sleeps?
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Now this little here combined textbox gives me some thoughts…
I haven’t paid attention to the color of character text beyond Hero’s voice getting eroded by sand, but… boxes can be any color and shape, its not uncommon for characters to have separate fonts, but words themselves? Only ever black and white. Now this could be for the sake of no eyestrain against backgrounds, but... consider the dichotomy TPoH is building up over its story
white in this comic is associated with bad things quite often. Lies, [-----], Hate’s realm. The blinding, scorching, destructive light of the unmasked Sun. meanwhile, darkness hides the Market from danger, and nighttime is tied intrinsically with dreaming. in fact, we JUST had an entire chapter dedicated to framing the Dark as good, protective, and aligned with trees and water, other positive entities
For a minute I got all excited because Dial and the Butterfly both have white text, thinking “oh, my god. do all Hate-aligned characters have white text?” this gets jossed pretty hard by Julienne’s white text, as well as Cell and Tailor.
but while THINKING on that, I jumped back to Storytime in chapter 10 and check this out: the moment RGB starts his story, text is suddenly white. Most of it continues to be in white… except for these two sentences
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AND CHECK THIS SHIT OUT: THE TEXT COLOR/SCENERY CHANGE COLOR TO THE FIVE COLORS OF RGB’S SCREEN. HOW DID I MISS THAT??
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(flips table) WHAT DOES IT ALL MEEEEEEAN
… y’know, the only character to have a white bubble color for their speech is RGB, who speaks in black
He’s both. He’s NEUTRAL.
Considering my talent for creating OCs but chronic deficiency in building coherent and decisive stories for them, they’re all probably wandering this Market and world right now. at the very least most of them have spent a DAMN long time here before becoming realized (im so sorry guys im trying)
The ones that are complete as themselves but their stories are unstarted/uncertain? That’s like. most of them. whoops. maybe this will be the kick in the pants i need
But on a brighter note: Fosters Home for Unfinished OCs
BUT by the rules of this world, RGB doesn’t have a story… yet this is his story.
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Assok’s newest position of travel is adorable and im dying
Y’know… Hero and RGB have very different ways of solving things. A little obvious, but- RGB’s solutions are always convoluted, require multiple steps, and are a little ridiculous. Or, he at least FRAMES them as complex. See: Click escape, train escape, entire scheme to find a Hero to right the world. Hero’s far more straightforward but her solutions are also more, like… sensible than RGB’s if that makes sense. If it was just RGB up on the burning heart his plan would have probably involved more "im very intelligent” and pizzaz, while Hero went for the comparatively simple “lets zipline” (versus RGB’s upcoming Click escape clusterfuck)
All of which to say, I got thinking on that with RGB being like “it’s a very complex topic I can’t possibly boil it down to anything smaller” and Hero describing what the Make Believe acts as in one word
So if this worlds objects come from the sea, the sea is connected to other worlds? And it was confirmed early on that ‘stuff’ and ‘thought’ are basically synonyms- these foreign objects can exist in the Make Believe because they’re infused with enough Stuff!
Hero and presumably all of the other Heroes came from outside the Make Believe… they are not unrealized characters, or they didn’t start out as such. To exist here like this, they must then be imbued with enough Stuff/Thought… if we specify Stuff as equivalent to creative thought… by jove! I’ve hit on (another) theory!
Haven’t all past Heroes been artists? Julienne is a dancer, Melody a musician, Dial works radio, Ticker is a craftsman, and Tailor works with textiles. TOby and Assok don’t have anything obvious, but if I was Hate, I’d turn puppeteers into motionless dolls and empty-voiced sock puppets.
oh yeah, and Click. betcha he was a toymaker
I wonder what kind of artist Hero would grow up to be? She clearly draws, we saw her work taped to her bedroom wall
Of note… RGB is also an artist. It looked like that alternate human-self we glimpse later was involved with TV production, or perhaps script writing.
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Tfw your ex walks past and doesn’t even hesitate like wow Magnus be a stone cold bitch like that
also like how his speech tail loops around his neck like a noose upon seeing Maggie
ALSO, that conveniently timed mention of hands when giving examples of what makes Stuff valuable in the Market- the nostalgia and undertones of regret are strong in this one
(watches this character die) oh jesus Christ. (looks at list of decommissioned ocs) ... oops
So this is what it looks like when a character dies… what does it look like when one is realized
do you like puns? want some more quality RGB roasting? like clothes shopping? the next chapter is for you
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rather-impertinent · 6 years ago
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Girl Next Door chpt. 6
A/N: [’At Last’ by Etta James plays]
Hello friends! Sorry about the wait, I got distracted by canon fanfic! Caroline comes over for a movie night... (me @ me Megan why did you make Dwight a Star Wars nerd you fkn hate Star Wars lmfao)
Dr Dwight Enys’s ears picked up a tapping noise on the door frame. He sat bolt upright and quickly peered around him; he was in his bedroom, his legs dangling off the mattress, fully clothed, with a half-eaten sandwich in his hand.
“What the fu…?” he whispered to himself in groggy confusion. His twelve-hour shift had morphed into an eighteen-hour one as several car crash victims had to be stabilised before surgery, and all nine of them had been rushed in just as he was about to clock off. He had gone to Tesco to pick up a sandwich for lunch on his way home, but he had evidently fallen asleep after two or three bites. He threw the now hard and stale sandwich into the bin, silently lamenting the food waste. The knock on the door came again, though more firmly this time.
He glanced at his alarm clock, which informed him it was 8:17 pm. “Just a minute!” Dwight called as he swapped his smart trousers and shirt for pyjama trousers and a band t-shirt. He walked the short distance from his bedroom to the front door and pulled it open without checking the peephole.
“Caroline!” he said in surprise, his mood instantly picking up. She stood in front of him in pyjamas, her hair worn up in a messy bun, with a Tesco carrier bag in her hand.
She looked him up and down, admiring him in his casual clothes, thinking she’d never seen him in anything other than scrubs or a shirt and tie. “Hi,” Caroline greeted, with a smile forming on her face. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” She bit her lip hesitantly, which Dwight found very distracting.
“No, no,” he lied quickly. They both smiled shyly at one another. “Come in,” Dwight invited, holding the door open for her as she sauntered by him and straight into the living room.
She gracefully sat herself down and waited for him to join her. She cleared her throat slightly. “So, Dr Enys, I thought I would test your theory. I went to Tesco and bought Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, and it was even on sale!” She pulled the brand-new DVD out of the bag and displayed it.
A confused smile spread across Dwight’s face. “You want to watch Star Wars?”
She shook her head. “No, you see, I don’t want to watch Star Wars. What I want to do is prove you wrong by getting to see how truly shit it is for myself,” she explained, her light eyebrows raised in their usual taunting way.
Dwight ripped the plastic wrapping off the DVD cover and opened it. “You’re on.” About halfway through the film, Caroline’s stomach began to whine loudly, so much so that Dwight paused the movie, shooting her a somewhat concerned glance. “Are you okay?”
Her cheeks reddened slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. I guess I just kind of forgot to eat dinner,” she laughed, hiding her face behind her hand. She had been working all day; the café hosted a kids’ birthday party from 4 pm until 7:30 pm and she had been so excited all day to show Dwight the DVD that she went straight from her flat to his after she’d gotten changed from work earlier.
“Me too,” he admitted sheepishly. How were they both adults? Dwight reached for his phone, a brilliant idea forming in his head. “Dominos,” he sang, opening up the app and immediately placing his saved favourite pizza into the basket. He handed Caroline his phone. “Here, pick whatever you want.”
She accepted the phone with slight hesitation. “Are you sure? These look expensive.”
“Nah, it’s fine. It’s 2 for Tuesdays anyway,” he explained.
Caroline furrowed her brows. “What’s that?”
“What do you mean?” Dwight asked her incredulously as if everyone in the entire world should know of the famous buy-one-get-one-free pizza chain deal. “You’ve never had a 2 for Tuesdays?”
“I’ve never had a Dominos,” she admitted somewhat shyly. “It may surprise you to know that I don’t actually eat fast food very often.”
Dwight looked her slim frame up and down. “Oh, right,” he chuckled. “Well, still, you need to eat something,” he insisted.
“If I get this pizza with all the vegetables on it that still counts as being healthy, right, Dr Enys?”
Dwight’s laugh bounced off the walls of his flat. “I have done that myself more times than I care to admit!”
Caroline fiddled with his phone for another moment and then handed it back to him with an amused smile. He placed their ordered and swore at his iPhone when the estimated delivery time said 65 minutes. It was Tuesday, though. But still.
By the time the seventh Star Wars movie was over, there was still no sign of their pizzas, but the film had gotten quite exciting and so both of them had been suitably distracted from their hunger pangs.
After humming along to the theme tune for at least ten seconds, Dwight pressed stop on the film. “So, Miss Penvenen,” Caroline’s mouth twisted at the use of her formal name, “What did you think?”
She briefly hummed in consideration, fiddling with some loose bits of hair that had fallen out of her messy bun. “It was good. I liked it,” she lied. Dwight saw through this and raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Caroline scrunched her face at him. “Well, I liked your enthusiasm – very much so,” she amended with a small smile, having enjoyed watching Dwight watch the movie more than watching the actual thing itself.
Dwight smiled in return, and before he could even filter the words through his tired brain, he whispered, “I like you very much, too.”
Caroline, for once in her life, was utterly tongue-tied. Not able to think of anything to say, she – for some unbeknownst reason – leaned over and kissed him. Dwight responded eagerly, gently cupping her face with his hand. Just as Caroline had deepened the kiss and placed her hand on his chest, the door buzzer hissed loudly. They broke apart instantly, and stared at each other, both somewhat breathless. The air in the room crackled around them.
Caroline blinked, not quite sure what was going on. The door buzzer rang three times this time, the delivery driver obviously impatient. “Oh! That must be the pizza; I’ll get it!” She practically fell off the sofa in her bid to retrieve their takeaway, or rather, in her bid to escape the situation she had now landed herself in. Sure, she didn’t mind kissing Dwight. It was nice. More than nice. But it’s not like she’d been lying awake at night thinking about doing it since their night out several months ago. Pffft. 
As soon as Caroline turned her back to answer the door, Dwight could hear Ross Poldark’s voice in his head yelling ‘who gives a fuck about the pizza? Why didn’t you stop her?’ and calling him a twat amongst other profanties. Did that really just happen? Had she really just kissed him? He wiped his face and took a gulp from his glass of water, hoping it would cool his body heat.
When she returned, balancing their pizzas on her palms, Dwight held up his Star Wars DVD boxset to her. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Do you want to watch one of the originals? I already have all of them, obviously.”
Caroline placed the pizzas down on the table and firmly shook her head. “No, because then you’ll really have to go and buy an Ouija board to communicate with me because I’ll die of boredom!” She snapped her fingers, an idea coming into her head. “Ooh let’s watch Titanic instead, I’ve not seen it for ages!”
Dwight’s cackle at her clever joke quickly morphed into an exasperated groan. “Oh, my god, you are such a girl!” He took three large bites of pizza to give him enough energy to spend the next three hours of his life watching a chick flick, as though he hadn’t already seen this movie – and cried watching it – about half a dozen times.
Caroline, too, took a bite of her vegetable-laden pizza. “Well, with your caramel mochas you’re already halfway there yourself!” She covered her mouth with her hand so that her half-chewed bite of pizza wouldn’t become exposed as she laughed at him.
“Oh, will you just let that go?” he whined as he polished off another slice. He didn’t realise how hungry he was.
She grinned at him, pizza sauce around the edges of her lips. “Never!”
Dwight inhaled another slice of pizza, finishing it in just four bites, and closed the lid of his pizza box. He sank back into the sofa and selected Titanic on Netflix as per Caroline’s request. “Fine. But shut up now, your shitty romance film is starting,” he teased, nudging her arm with his own.
Caroline nudged him back and abandoned her pizza; sweeping her feet up onto the couch and involuntary leaning into Dwight’s side. “Oh, my god, I’m already going to cry, I swear. The real footage gets me every time!”
Dwight automatically wrapped his arm around her shoulder, as he had done many times before when comforting a patient or one of their family members. “Awww,” he chuckled, finding her shining, sympathetic eyes adorable, “it’s alright.” His hand froze momentarily in panic as he realised what he’d done. He resumed gently stroking the area with his thumb and rejoiced when she didn’t pull away or question it. If anything, he swore he felt her lean in closer.
They sat in comfortable silence as the characters discussed ‘The Heart of the Ocean’ necklace. Caroline said after a while: “You know, I never cared for that necklace. It’s too big; it looks kind of awkward. But I’ve always wanted one of those big, beautiful hats that Kate Winslet wears in this movie. It would be so cool to walk around wearing one!” Dwight couldn’t help but smile at the animation in her voice. “I’ve always kind of wanted to wear trousers with braces, why we did ever stop dressing like that?” He wondered out loud. “Everyone looks so smart - even the poor people!”
She examined him up and down, her close proximity and scrutinising gaze made him feel somewhat nervous. “Hmm. You’d suit braces; you should buy some,” she told him with a seemingly noncommittal shrug while she tried to rid her mind of the image of Dwight in smart trousers with braces.
“Maybe I will.” He flashed a smile at her before returning his focus to the movie with a certain degree of difficulty. He hesitated slightly but ultimately felt the thing had to be said, “You know, I actually really fucking hate the start of this movie. Can we just skip ahead until we get to the flashback?”
She let out an excited gasp, jumped out of the grip of his arm and then hit the limb repeatedly in agreement. “Oh, my God, yes! Thank you! No one ever understands when I say that!”
Satisfied, he fast-forwarded the film to Kate Winslet’s first appearance in the movie. He placed the remote control on his somewhat untidy coffee table before clutching his calf muscle. “Ow, ow, shit! Cramp. Ow. Shit. My leg. Ow.” He hissed and rubbed the offending muscle and removed his legs from where they were resting casually on the table.
Caroline looked at him in alarm. “Uh, here, rest your legs on the sofa.” She shuffled away from him slightly, much to his dismay.
He held up his hand to dismiss her worry. “No, no, it’s fine. My legs are too long anyway, they’ll take up the whole couch, and you’ll have nowhere to sit!” He huffed a laugh.
She considered this for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek. “Well, why don’t we lie down? Then there’ll be room for both of us,” she offered lightly, despite the ongoing calculations in her head.
Dwight blushed and prayed that his flat was dark enough to disguise it. “Sure, why not?”
Caroline casually lay on her side in front of Dwight, and as he resumed the movie and put the remote control back on the coffee table, Caroline gently caught his arm and held it across her mid-rift. She was quite impressed by her boldness.
Dwight was completely tongue-tied but thankfully the poker scene – one of his favourites – was on and so he had something to focus on other than the fact he had his arm around Caroline, and that she had put it there herself. And here he was, a twenty-eight-year-old man, with his heart racing like a fourteen-year-old boy.
‘Somebody’s life’s about to change – Fabrizio?’ ‘Niente.’
“Niente,” Dwight and Caroline repeated simultaneously, causing them both to giggle.
“Nice Italian accent,” Dwight complimented.
Caroline looked over her shoulder, an amused smile on her face. “I was just about to say the same thing to you, Dr Enys.”
She shivered as she moved, and Dwight frowned at the goose-bumps that formed on her arms. “Oh, are you cold?”
She laughed slightly. “Yeah, a little. Could you grab my bag so that I can get my blanket? I think it’s just at your feet.”
Dwight’s face scrunched in confusion, and he breathed a laugh. “You brought a blanket over?” She sat up and looked at him as though bringing a blanket everywhere was the most everyday thing a person could do. “Why?” he asked as he passed her the reusable bag-for-life.
“Do you have a blanket?” she asked in return as she accepted the proffered bag.
Dwight opened and closed his mouth. “Well, no, but–”
“Exactly,” she gloated with a smile, tugging the large, fleecy pink cover out of the bag. She settled back onto the sofa and began unfolding it; pausing to take Dwight’s hand and rest it where it had previously been, motioning for him to lie back down.
Dwight obliged without complaint, and slightly tightened his hold on her. He could only see the back of her head, but he swore he felt her smile. He sighed happily, relaxing into their position. Caroline wordlessly flung some extra blanket over her shoulder to ensure Dwight had enough. He didn’t want to think about how much of Horace’s hair was probably on it, but he wrapped it over his shoulder anyway. It was very fluffy.
Too fluffy, in fact, he realised when he woke up on the couch four hours later, with the DVD menu playing in a continuous loop. Caroline was fast asleep; her eyelashes fanned out above her cheekbones, her lips parted as she breathed quietly.
Should he wake her? He really should wake her, right? But she looked so peaceful – and annoyingly beautiful. Plus, she might be mad if he woke her up. She definitely seemed like the type of person to be annoyed if anyone disturbed their sleep. Yeah, he would just leave her. He glanced at the clock on the wall which told him it was 4 am. He didn’t know if she was working later, so he held his breath and gently sat up, reaching over her to get his phone on the coffee table. Miraculously, she didn’t seem to register that he’d moved at all. Despite the light of his mobile phone initially assaulting his retinas and making him momentarily blind, he managed to set an alarm for 6 am, which would give her enough time to get ready if she had a shift in the morning. Satisfied, he put his phone back down and slowly resumed his position on the couch, pausing to turn the TV off which then plunged the room into darkness.
The change of lighting seemed to rouse Caroline, and she stirred her legs. Dwight carefully shuffled a bit so that he was lying down again. Caroline turned over and slid an arm over Dwight’s torso, before gently resting her head on his chest. “Mm, night,” she mumbled, still mostly asleep.
What was going on? Was he dreaming? He would have to ask Demelza about this on Sunday; maybe she could give him some advice. But for now, he was going to go back to sleep. And cuddle into Caroline, that too.
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keepingupwithlinmanuel · 6 years ago
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Lin-Manuel Miranda on "Hamilton" Coming to Washington, D.C., and His First Voting Memory
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Before the campaign ends on May 31, Teen Vogue sat down with Lin-Manuel to talk about partnering with Prizeo to benefit BlackPAC, the Latino Victory Fund, the Center for Popular Democracy, and Let America Vote. He also opened up about his memories as a young voter, his hopes for the D.C. production of Hamilton, and who he most hopes visits what he predicts will be a very "meta" show.
Teen Vogue: You've worked with Prizeo before on other ticket drives. How did this specific sweepstakes come about? What about these organizations specifically spoke to you?
Lin-Manuel Miranda: It turns out people want tickets to Hamilton, and that's a lovely thing. So we've tried to leverage that into raising money for organizations that are important to our family. [This time] we wanted to focus on voting. I personally believe that the more of us that vote, the healthier our democracy is, so these organizations are all involved with that. [We're working with] Let America Vote, which is very involved in terms of gerrymandering and voter suppression, and calling it out. Really, Jason Kander has built an organization that is mobilizing people to make people aware of the way people get you to stay home. The Latino Victory Fund is really concerned with getting out the Latino votes, particularly with immigration being so hot-button nowadays. It's so important that the Latino voter base be mobilized. With each organization, we were looking at getting out as much of the vote as possible and contributing to the organizations that are making that happen. Ones that get you to the polls. By contributing to this, yes, you may win tickets to Hamilton, but you're contributing to the organizations that really do the work. Let America Vote is always looking for volunteers. The Latino Victory Fund is always looking for volunteers. Sign up for their newsletter. There's no shortage of ways to get engaged, which is the thing I tell myself constantly.
TV: The midterm elections are coming up, and voter turnout for elections that aren't the presidential election every four years tends to be pretty dismal. How do you hope that this push addresses the need for voting all the time?
LMM: I come by it honestly. My dad was in Democratic politics in New York as long as I can remember. At my 18th birthday party, I made a wish, I blew out the candles, and then I filled out my voter registration form.
I think that more than ever, the issues we face are really engaging young people. To see how focused the Parkland survivors have been on voting, in particular — it has been inspiring to see the people most affected by this leading the charge. There was another school shooting on Friday, May 18. There was an article in The Washington Post [about how] more students have died [in 2018] as a result of gun violence than active military personnel. That is appalling.
TV: When the Parkland shooting happened and the survivors started mobilizing with March for Our Lives, critics were really quick to claim that "they're kids, they don't know what they're doing." It's also easy, we've seen, for people to dismiss young people's votes as being less-than, that their voices don't matter.
LMM: Boy, does it matter. Absolutely, I feel like that goes around every year, but I think it has a greater urgency because we're losing young people to senseless violence. People who should be coming home from school at the end of the day. Kids who should not be afraid of going to school. Parents who should not be afraid of sending their kids to school. Young people have always changed the world. It always comes from them. Our job is to support them and to listen.
TV: What did the first time you actually voted feel like?
LMM: I think my first "vote" was probably '88? I think I turned my mom's vote for [a local election]. I was eight years old, and I got to go in the booth with her, and I remember I got to flip the knobs. The thrill of that as a kid, of "I get to go into this little tented room, and I get to have a say." It was always an exciting thing for me.
The first time I voted in a presidential election was in 2000. I turned 18 in 1998. I've always found [voting] thrilling. I love the follow-up. I love everything about voting. I love the volunteers, I love the sense that you see people from your neighborhood, that people are taking a break from work to go do this, that you're taking time out of your day to have a say in something much larger than yourself.
I deal in larger-than-yourself things. You can't put up a musical by yourself. By necessity in my trade, I work with people who do what I can't do, and we make something that is bigger than the sum of our parts. And I think of voting that way: If we work together, we can affect change that is greater than the sum of our parts individually. I get that rush from working in theater and working in animated movies, when you're working with a crew of thousands, and I get that same rush when I go to the polls, because I know I'm one drop in the bucket, but I know many drops in the bucket is a sea change.
TV: Minority voters are finding themselves in the spotlight more and more by virtue of the rhetoric around issues like immigration, xenophobia, and police brutality against black and brown bodies. Do you have any specific message for young people who feel marginalized by the overwhelmingly white, male, cisgender, straight majority still in office?
LMM: Well, it's a lyric in the show, and I hate to be that guy....
TV: Please be that guy.
LMM: But the quote is, "Tomorrow there'll be more of us." There are more of us. There are more young people than ever before. We all just have to push in the same direction. We all just have to get out and vote. I'm not gonna tell you who to vote for because that's also your choice, and what a glorious thing it is that you have that choice.
TV: Hamilton is opening in Washington, D.C., which feels kind of like art imitating life. Do you imagine this production will be different in any way, simply by virtue of the location?
LMM: "The Room Where It Happens" is gonna be a very surreal number in D.C., because we're in the town where it happens. That song is literally about the establishment of that town, so it's meta on a few levels. It's the origin story of D.C. It's the origin story of our particular politics. That beef between Jefferson and Hamilton is, in varying different hues and shades, our two-party system. Those two fundamentally different views of what our country should be. It's not a clean break down the line; there's not a direct line between Democrats and Republicans. They've swapped positions on various issues over the years, but the notion of a two-party system began with these two guys catching beef. One of the things George Washington warned against in his Farewell Address, which Hamilton wrote, was beware of the rise of factions. We feel more factionalized than we've ever felt. The show is a reminder of those origin stories and a reminder that the past isn't passed, and we have been having these fights for as long as we've been a country.
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TV: Given that Hamilton is now in their backyard, it's going to be interesting to see if politicians come to see the show. A lot of people remember when Vice President Mike Pence came to the New York show. The way the cast handled it was so beautiful and moving.
LMM: I think people forget the context of that. That was the week after the election. The emotions of the audience were so raw that we had to speak to the moment one way or the other. You couldn't leave it where it was, and I was very proud of our cast and the way they handled it and basically made a call for inclusion and respect for everyone. They said, "I hope you will include all of us as you govern." The way that was mischaracterized later via Twitter by our president is a very different thing. But I was very proud of our cast, and I was impressed with Pence's response, which was he heard us and stayed to listen.
TV: Is there any one politician or any few politicians that you hope come to the D.C. show?
LMM: Not that this show is some definitive text, by no means — it's a musical. But [the show is about] things we grappled with at the founding of our nation — when do we estate? When do we unite as one country? When do we get involved in the affairs of other countries? That's "Cabinet Battle Two." In their case it's the French Revolution; in our case it's insert country here. And when do we tend to ourselves and work on ourselves? The legacy of slavery, which is still being felt today, was still being felt then. Every character in my show — with the exception of George Washington — dies as a result of gun violence. That's another original sin of our country. It's so many years later and it's worse than it's ever been because our founders could never have imagined shooting off 30 bullets in 30 seconds. There was just no universe in which they would've imagined that. So we are dealing with the effects of that as well.
I say all that to say it's a great reminder of the questions that were there at our origin and how our politicians deal with those challenges today. Our message is: We're in your backyard. You know how to get tickets. Honestly, I hope everyone comes, from both sides of the aisle, because I think it's always good to see a show that reminds you the origins of what we are.
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