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savventeen · 1 year ago

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you say the stupidest (sweetest) things

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3

From: Y/n 🔪 [11:47pm]

yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science

Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.

To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.

Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.

He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.

“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“

“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”

The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.

He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”

“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”

His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.

Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.

“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”

Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”

“So. Where're we at this time?”

He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.

“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”

“Aish.”

The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.

“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”

“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.

“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”

“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”

He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”

“No, it isn't.”

Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”

A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”

He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”

“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.

“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."

You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.

“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”

“...”

“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”

“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.

“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.

“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”

“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”

“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”

Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”

“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”

Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”

“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”

Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”

“Booooooo, you whore.”

He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.

Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.

A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.

Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.

But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.

Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.

how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh

He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.

But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.

Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.

Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.

You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.

The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.

Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.

Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.

You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.

Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.

And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.

It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.

With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.

Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.

And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.

Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.

You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."

He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."

“Yep!”

You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.

The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.

Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.

💤 💤 💤 💤 💤

It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.

Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.

It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.

He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.

And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.

Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.

Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.

"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"

He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.

"Am— am I okay? No??"

Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"

Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.

"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"

Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"

"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?

Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.

"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"

He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"

Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"

"What you just said."

You blink. "...that I'm confused?"

He shakes his head. "No, before that."

You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"

"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it �� with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.

That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.

He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””

Oh.

You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"

He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"

And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."

Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.

You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."

"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"

"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"

"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.

"Oh my god!"

He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.

This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.

But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.

"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.

And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.

You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"

This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.

When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.

"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"

Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.

"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"

Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"

"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"

"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."

And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.

He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.

And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"

"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."

Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"

He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.

"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.

"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."

You blink at him.

"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”

He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”

You snort.

“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”

"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.

“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”

Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.

The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.

#svtsource #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan fic #seungkwan x y/n #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #savv writes #savv fics #in my queue world

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illuminatedvisage · 1 year ago

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these hands in tightly hidden fists.

Pairing: Jing Yuan x (GN) Reader Summary: It is a late night, and the General's mind wanders. Warnings: Ineffectual Pining, Smut (sort of) Notes: 1.6k words of Jing Yuan being cockblocked by his own sense of morality. Title and quote taken from "So We Must Meet Apart" by Gabrielle Bates & Jennifer S. Cheng

jing yuan notices the earrings first—small, bright gems set on a thin chain, hanging like stars from your delicate earlobes. then your hair, styled with more care than usual, and the new perfume that stains your wrist with a faint scent that he strains himself to catch, to catalogue into the breadth of information he has carefully collected about you. your clothes are as usual, neat and formal, as is your manner, except for the way you sometimes fiddle with the hem of your sleeve and cast longing looks out the window while he reads your report.

that is to say, jing yuan notices you quite a bit and today, there is something different about you.

“you look lovely today,” he says after some time has passed. the seat of divine foresight has emptied out for the day, save for the few guards that stand at attention by the door; he would have gone by now too and released them from duty, if he hadn’t been expecting you. it is rare enough that your work brings the two of you together, and since your promotion at the divination commission, the master diviner has kept you busy adjusting and readjusting the nodes on the matrix of prescience to keep up with her constant calculations. you have a talent for it, attuned to the fine details of your surroundings, so he wonders why you always seem to miss the glaring fact of his love for you.

“oh, thank you, general,” you say, suddenly going shy. your gaze travels around the room, from walls to window and even to the guards, landing on anything but him. it’s adorable, the way you avoid his eyes even though you want, eagerly, to share something—another of your mannerisms that jing yuan has filed away in his heart.

would it be too much to hope that you had dressed up just to see him? that you had made yourself prettier than you already are for his eyes alone? it is presumptuous to think that he is in your thoughts as often as you are on his, but he does it anyway. he allows his eyes to linger on your mouth, the way it curves into the trace of a smile at his next question.

“is there a particular occasion?”

“i have dinner with someone later,” you let out like a confession, in one breathless, rushed whisper. the answer is so incomprehensible that he doesn’t register it at first. not until you start fiddling with the earring that caught his eye, twisting the chain around your finger. he wonders if it’s a gift from the person you are seeing tonight. he wonders how it would feel to tug it off your earlobe with his teeth. “general?”

there is a waxy feeling in his throat, so thick that you could scrape it off with a fingernail, at the thought of you with someone else. someone you might be directing that secretive smile toward. someone whose arm you might be touching as you lean in close, close enough to let them catch a brief taste of your perfume—

“general?”

“i see.” jing yuan clears his throat, looking for his words, which have all suddenly fled him. “where will you be dining?”

“we have reservations at the sleepless earl. i know, i know,” you laugh a little, “not that exciting, but i hear the storyteller is starting a tale about the high-cloud quintet tonight and i don’t want to miss the opening. it’ll be decades before he tells it again.” the smile you give him then makes the muscle in his jaw jump. “and afterwards, we might take a starskiff to the exalting sanctum. the luofu is passing close to a binary star system tonight…”

his hands tighten around the scroll containing your report—the detection of cosmological time dilation patterns in three-body starquake ruptures—your voice gone soft and muddled in his head as he tries to get his jaw to unclench, so that he might beg you—and if we’re lucky, they might set off an aurora that we can see from the pavilion—if he could only say something that would keep you by his side, instead of, of—owing to the expansion of space in ten to the third dimensions upon point of impact, we can predict that the best course of action for the alliance—he doesn’t want to lose you, doesn’t want to give you up to this person who has done what he has failed to—it’s quite a romantic spot, actually—has caught the tail of your bright comet—

with a wash of sick, nervous heat, jing yuan realizes that he could. he could keep you from going out tonight under the guise of work, have you explain to him in charts and calculations and the graceful arc of your hands those elegant predictions which were your life’s work. he could always count on you to put your duty to the xianzhou luofu first, even if it meant making others unhappy.

one night might unfold into another into another as he lures you into his trap. he could start now. dismiss the guards. demand your time. steal a touch or two, first at your wrist, then your elbow, narrowing the distance between you by degrees as he bids you to lean over the desk and explain to him some prediction he pretends not to understand—all the while he looks not at the report, as you might have believed, but at the column of your unmarked throat that he longs to sink his teeth into like a claim. a night like that repeated a dozen times over. how long would it take you to sense him prowling at the edges of your comfort? to realize how close you have already allowed him?

how long would you be able to hold out against him?

jing yuan cares for you, cares what you think of him, and so your seduction would be as patient and meticulous as any strategy he’s executed. perhaps, after so many nights like that, alone together, he might ask you for a drink. tea or wine, whatever your preference, he’d offer to pour you a cup if you returned the favor. one drink becoming two becoming more, just like the hours he’d steal away from you, your tired head dipping into your chest as you struggle to stay awake in his company.

he’d have moved to your side of the table by then, offered you his shoulder to lean on; polite and trusting as you are, he doubts you would have questioned it as you drift into a haze of half-sleep. he’d stroke your shoulder, then your cheek, the crown of your lovely hair. he’d take the teacup from your slackening grasp and marvel at the sensation of your hand in his, at the delicate points of your fingertips, the soft cup of your palm that he cannot help but kiss. perhaps you would have woken, and if not, he’d take the time to memorize your hands, to slip his tongue between your fingers and nip at the sensitive skin between pointer and thumb.

you’d wake with a gasp, and he would turn his head to swallow the sound.

your lips—they’d be divine, he knows it, stained with the flavor of your drink, bitter and sweet as he coaxes you open on his tongue. he’d like it if you kissed him back, hand tangling in his long hair. he’d like it if you sighed, meltingly, into his embrace; if your supple body arched beneath his wandering hands. there, he’d show the first and only sign of his impatience, working them into your clothes so he could feel the heat rising beneath your skin and know for certain that you felt it too—that you were filled with a need as powerful as his own.

he’d take you on whatever surface was available, on the floor, on his desk. he would lay you out and fit himself between the spread of your legs, fingers probing inside you—at first one, then two, then three if you could take it. he thinks you could. he would do it slow, a precise calculation of what would bring you the most pleasure; if you whined, he’d only go slower. with just his fingers he could make you fall apart. he imagines you gnawing at your lips, slick with spit as you moan into the tabletop, your body slick around his fingers as he fucks them into you.

how would you feel on his cock? squirming as he splits you open or holding yourself breathlessly still? his hands on your hips as he presses himself into the heat of you, hoping to leave bruises that you’ll remember tomorrow and tomorrow after that. he’d fuck you however you’d like—slow, hard, fast, soft. he’d fuck you until you saw stars sparking beneath the cover of your closed eyes, no need to look outside, to look away from him at all. he’d make you come again and again, slack jawed, clawing at the his shoulders, addicted to the push and pull of him inside you. you’d ask him for more and he would give it to you gladly.

bent over like this, you wouldn’t be able to see him at all. he is grateful for that. what would you think if you saw that hunger so naked on his face, which he has only ever shown you so indolently calm? he is not known as a man of large appetites, but for you he is a wild, starving thing. for you— for you—

“general?”

jing yuan smiles at you, locking those thoughts of you behind the placid expression on his face. you haven’t noticed anything at all, and why should you? it is a mask that has not slipped for hundreds of years, unlike his next words, which slip loose without him meaning to.

“i hate to keep you longer than i should, but if you wouldn’t mind…”

A/N: i want him so bad i look stupid i know. i feel like jing yuan is just a little bit of an asshole but he tries hard not to be because he is also very aware of the power he has over people and knows that he could exploit them all too easily. but i really, really want him to (: anyway i like my jing yuans literally sick with longing. will i ever let him fuck for real???? stay tuned for more.

#jing yuan x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan imagines #hsr imagines #.illuminations #.xianzhou luofu #dont look at me or the way i fcked up this summary cause i copy pasted from the other to get the format #im dumb and silly!!!!!#fixed it now tho

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chaosduckies · 2 months ago

Note

Congratulations on 100 Followers!!! Big achievement!!!!

Gonna take you up on your open commissions so I’d love to see your take on a tiny being forced to ask a giant for help.

Your choice of characters but I’m a sucker for hurt comfort so go wild ❤️

Congrats again!!!

Thank you! :D

I'm sorry that this took so long to get out! I was having a minor writing slump but I'm back at it! I did have a lot of fun writing this and I hope you do to! (classic borrower asking a human for help)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: Minor blood

Snow Fall

———Forest———

Everything was going great. I set off on my own, leaving my parents behind and starting my new life. Of course I was scared. Who wouldn’t be when you were two inches tall and leaving everyone you know and love? It was terrifying, but I had to. Borrower children, even though some were some-what good at borrowing from humans, were supposed to leave their parents as soon as they turned fourteen since it was a liability for their parents. I was just lucky and extended my stay for 3 more years. What could I say? I loved my parents just as much as they loved me, and no matter how many times my mom pleaded for me to stay, I knew I wasn’t that good at borrowing. I would eventually get us all in trouble. Which was why I decided to find a new home when I turned seventeen. It didn’t sit right with me that I was still leeching off my parents.

Humans were scary. The horror stories, the pets, the kids. Almost everything about them scared me half to death. Just thinking about getting caught in one of those huge hands has me shuddering. I couldn’t think about myself getting caught, or what would happen to me, and to be honest, leaving my parents was the worst decision of my life.

I wasn’t a good borrower to say in the least. I could barely hurdle over the counters without somehow hurting myself or becoming so sore the next day that I could barely move, I wasn’t the best at hiding. I had no idea how my parents did this at such a young age, but I wasn’t like them at all. How did they end up with such a failure like me? I laughed at the thought.

My new home was nice. The human here had a schedule that I could work around. They left for work every morning, giving me plenty of time to get a little bit of food that they leave out sometimes, get some other things, and head back. They weren’t very observant of anything in particular, perfect for grabbing a few extra paperclips since my hook usually breaks from my own misuse. This house was perfect… or so I thought.

After a while, the person stopped laying out food everywhere, they had started packing up their things in huge boxes, people in strange uniforms came by and dragged out anything heavy. I had no idea what was going on, but it wasn’t good. I stayed hidden in my home in the walls, scared of what was happening. I was too scared to go out at night and get my daily necessities, like food and water. Humans were terrifying. If I was seen by even one of them, who knows what might happen? I didn’t care if I was so hungry that my stomach was digesting itself, there was no way I was going to get caught and placed in some weird science lab. Testing me everyday, killing me slowly. I shuddered at the thought, wrapping myself in the thin cloth I managed to snag before any of this moving was happening.

Lately the seasons have been changing, and the human that I thought was still living here hasn’t bothered to turn on the heater. This only made things a million times worse for me. I was already hungry, practically starving from not having eaten anything for the past three days, and now it was freezing cold. There was nothing I could do about it though. I was terrified. Scared. Too paranoid about what would happen if I stepped outside the comforts of my dingy home in the walls. No matter how much I wanted to go back with my parents, I couldn’t. More because I barely even remember the way back home, but also because it was already dangerous enough getting to this new home. I had no choice but to stay here in hopes that I could get over this fear of being seen and that the human had left some kind of food out. But there was no such luck. The house was empty. Furniture moved, heater off, no sign of food in the cabinets. Just nothing. My hope diminished as I sluggishly walked back home in defeat. There was no way I was going to survive.

The human that I found so easy to maneuver around without being seen, that left food out, was now gone. Who knew when another one would just move back in? Most days I would walk around out in the open because there was nothing to do. I mean, without a human there was no chance of me surviving. I was too afraid to go outside because I knew there were animals that wouldn’t hesitate to mistake me for food. So staying inside was really my only option. Plus, it was just the slightest bit warmer here than outside.

Sometimes I’d go sit on the windowsill, stay there for hours watching these tiny white balls fall from the sky and cover the ground. People passed by wearing thick coats that protected them from the harsh cold, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. I looked back at the thin piece of cloth wrapped around me, barely giving any warmth while humans were able to be so warm, get food without having to worry about anyone seeing them (or in my case get food at all), heck, they weren’t even scared of anything.

I sat alone, in a quiet house just waiting for anything to happen. I didn’t care if it was good or bad. I didn’t know how I was surviving for so long, nor how I was still moving despite searching the top shelves and countertops desperately for something. But of course it was always the same way it was. Empty. Nothing was changing, but in a bad way.

My legs were sore from the amount of climbing I’ve done the past few days, my body was getting even weaker than it already was. I guess I really was going to starve to death, huh? All of that talking with my parents about making sure I would have enough to last me and it’s just wasted. How was I supposed to know that only a week after I found a new livable home that the human I was just barely getting used to was going to move out? Life wasn’t fair.

Today was yet another sad, depressing day. I dragged myself along the floor, trying to at least be active while I was struggling to survive. Would another human be coming here soon? As much as they scared me and borrowers alike, most relied on them to help us survive. When they’re clumsy and forget easily, it’s easy to “borrow” a few things here and there. They leave food out or there’s an easy way to get into a cabinet, we can take a few things they wouldn’t notice. It was almost impossible to live without relying on a human in some way. Ironic how the thing I fear the most was the thing that was keeping me alive.

I hoisted myself up onto the windowsill, breathing heavily as soon as I was safely up. I groaned in pain, wrapping up my hook and sitting by the window, once again staring at the white scenery. Other houses just across that had a slight smoke coming from the top of their house. Must be warm… I rubbed my arms, watching as a few people walked by, possibly on their way to work. I shivered, regretting not taking my “blanket.”

Life wasn’t fair. I knew that much, but I forced myself to stay alive for whatever reason. My figure was getting slimmer from the lack of food, but I somehow kept moving. It was cold, but I gathered up any cloth I could find and wrapped myself up at night. My hook looked like it could break at any point in time, but it was hanging on just like me. If my hook did break, then there was basically no way for me to get anywhere but home and on the floor. I hoped that something would happen one day, but nothing ever did.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught something gray scurry along the floor. I stared for a couple long seconds before shrugging it off and continuing to look out the window. It was probably just my imagination. Great, now I’m hallucinating. I sighed, watching as cars carefully passed by.

I don’t know how long I stayed on top of the windowsill, but eventually there was a change of scenery. At first I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but there it was. A car parked right in front of the house, headlights turning off and revealing a human, zipping up their jacket and looking down at something and back at the front of the house. I was too caught up in my fascination to realize that I was out in the open. The human slowly started making their way up to the front door, holding something that looked silver in their hands.

I scrambled for my hook, climbing down as fast as I could, which was very painful. At some point I lost my grip and fell, but to my luck it was only a couple feet. I hurried to my feet, pulling my hook from the ledge it was dangling from and ran as fast as I could to reach the extremely tiny hole I squeezed myself through. I took a few seconds to catch my breath before the front door opened. My eyes were wide, my heart pounding fast. Would my luck finally be turning around?

The human was taller than the last and looked much younger. I couldn’t really get a good look at their face, but I could make out his dirty-blonde hair. I could hear my own heartbeat. Is everything going to go back to normal? Would I be able to survive on my own again?

The human moved around the place, shivering and pressing some buttons on something. Soon enough, the house was slowly but surely being warmed up. I let out a quiet sigh of relief. It might not be much… but at least it was something. Better than the frigid cold that had been filling the house for who knows how long.

They moved around the house, checking everything out and smiling, their eyes a nice shade of light-brown. They looked… so nice. For a split second my mind wondered what would happen if he would ever see me. Would he keep me as a pet like I’m pretty sure most humans would? Or… nothing? No, why would I even be thinking about that? He would obviously want to hurt me even more than I already was.

My stomach rumbled quietly, I winced, but confused to watch as they came from outside and back in, carrying a few boxes, bags and a small case that had wheels on it. Was I finally… saved? If this human was moving back in then I could actually have a chance to survive? I silently cheered to myself. How long has it been? Almost a week maybe? How did I even manage to stay alive? Didn’t matter anymore I guess.

I continued to watch the human, putting up things in the boxes, setting up a few mini tables and placing picture frames of him and, who I was guessing, his parents. Of course occasionally taking breaks for a snack or two, leaving a plastic container filled with what looked like fresh fruit and vegetables. After most of the boxes were unpacked, a few still in their bedroom, he went back outside, most likely to fetch something else from his car. He usually took a while out there… so maybe it would be enough time to go and quickly grab something to eat? No, that was too risky. What if I was wrong and he came back early? I doubt I’d have enough time to find a hiding spot while out in the open since he didn’t exactly have any furniture or anything.

I slumped, making my way back to my bland home in the walls. I had always tried to decorate… but since there hadn’t been anyone living here for me to “borrow” a few things from, I haven’t been able to decorate. Only the small bed I made by gathering up a bunch of cloth that the human before had forgotten about. It wasn’t extremely comfy, but better than anything I could’ve asked for. Otherwise, boring room. But it’s not like I need to decorate it anyways. Surviving was my main focus right now, and now that there was someone actually living here now… maybe I’d have a chance to get back into things.

The wait was long, hearing the human talk to someone on what I think they call a phone, hang up, set up their house again and spend most of their time gathering up all of the blankets and pillows that he had brought with him and gathering them all up in what I think was going to be his room. As comfy as it looked, I knew I couldn’t just take a couple of minutes to get somewhat comfortable. Lately every night has been spent cold, hungry, filled with false hope. If I could just take a couple minutes to have some kind of sense of safety and security, that would be great. But I haven’t been able to, and I doubt that I’d be able to even now. I never realized just how hard it is to survive. Imagine what my parents went through while taking care of me…

I hugged my blanket close, my eyelids threatening to close at any second. I heard the sound of the door open once again, and the loud sounds of him dragging something across the floor. It was all fine for me though. My eyes shut close, I laid down, and soon enough my mind drifted off.

——————

When my eyes opened, there was a quiet noise of people talking outside. My heart had skipped a beat, thinking that there were more humans living here. That would make it impossible for someone like me to get past without being noticed, but as I groggily stepped outside, rubbing my eyes to wipe away the sleep, I realized that it was only the tv that wasn’t there a couple hours ago.

I looked around the dark room, seeing that there was now a singular couch in what was the living room, a tv, a table that held two more frames. How long had I been sleeping? Or better yet, just how exhausted was I? Obviously the sun had already set, so I guess it didn’t really matter. I headed back to my room, grabbed my hook, and took off, every now and then finding a hiding spot just in case the human was somewhere I couldn’t see him.

My head turned towards a dark shadow scamper right across from me, but I didn’t pay any mind. Probably just my imagination, right? Right now I was just trying to make sure that the human was asleep right now just before I go and see if he had any food out… or at least something edible in the cabinets.

I checked the living room first, hiding by one of the legs under the couch, peaking my head out just enough to see him having trouble keeping his eyes open. Good enough for me. I ran quietly back to the kitchen, throwing my hook as far up as I could before testing if it was safely secure. I started my trek up, my arms and legs begging in me to go back down. Despite my arms threatening to tear off from the lack of strength. I really wasn’t good at borrowing.

As soon as I reached the top of the counter, I took a few seconds to catch my breath. Once I get used to the human’s schedule I may finally be able to get back into things. No going hungry for that long, not worrying if I’ll make it to the end of the night. as soon as he turns on the heater things would be even better… I wouldn’t be shivering at night and struggle to find something that would act as a blanket. Yet another reason to be jewels of humans. They had everything borrowers didn’t. It wasn’t at all fair, but we all knew what would happen if a human found or saw us. The thought was pure torture to even think about. Literally.

On the counter, there really wasn’t anything for me to see except for the half-eaten sandwich just lying on the counter. I silently walked over, not really wanting to eat part of the sandwich that they had already bitten into but I had to unless I wanted him to already be suspicious when it hasn’t even been a full day.

I started cutting off pieces, making them fit inside my bag and taking a few more unnoticeable pieces for tomorrow, learning from past mistakes. As I was cutting, I realized that there was something off. The tv was still on in the other room, I figured that the human still hadn’t left the couch either, fighting off sleep. So why did it feel so off? I treaded carefully, watching every tiny movement that caught my eye. For a moment it was so quiet that I could hear my own heart pounding in my chest, and then too quiet.

My eyes searched around, taking my final piece into my hands since no more would fit in my bag. I might as well grab as much as I could. Better than having nothing. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that I wasn’t dead, that I’d at least have some kind of way to survive. Out of curiosity, I took a small bite out of the sandwich, only really getting the bread part but it tasted so good. To be honest, a sandwich was a definite score for borrowers, now when you’ve been starving for days on end, it tastes amazing.

Two glasses hit each other behind me, I turned my head seeing them spin before returning to their still pose. My eyes widened, hurrying to my hook that was still hanging off the edge of the counter. I looked back, the light making it easier to see a rat chase me down, easily twice my size. I let out a yelp as I ran through several spice glasses in hopes of losing it, only to hear them all fall onto the counter with a loud thud! That was bad for two reasons, one because not only was it making a mess and trails that I’ve been here, and two, because I knew the human would want to come and investigate what was happening. Of course being the person that I am, I would never be able to run faster than this surprisingly malicious rat.

I struggled to keep up my balance, eventually tripping on thin air, dropping the small piece of sandwich a few feet away from me. I quickly rolled over, my chest heaving up and down as I faced the rat not even given a second before they scratched at my shirt. I winced, holding my stomach and seeing my hand covered in some blood. My breathing was getting more heavy as I saw a silhouette by the kitchen entrance. The lights turned on, blinding the rat for just a second as I quickly stood up and kept running towards my hook, holding my stomach. I knew what was happening, and there was no way I would be found the second a new human moves in, right? I blinked back the tears building up in my eyes, tripping once again. My vision was blurry from the tears, and judging by the small squeaks from the rat I thought was a good couple feet away, that meant that the human was here.

Forcing myself to sit up, I looked at the bowl that kept moving. The rat screeching to be released from their prison. The human placed some heavy books on top, sighing to himself as he muttered something under his breath I couldn’t catch, but I didn’t really care. I scrambled back onto my feet, trying to run yet again and slammed into something soft and squishy. I winced as I fell and soon my entire world was moving again, the soft surface now everywhere.

It settled in my mind slowly, realizing that I was in human hands. It hurt to breathe from my new wound, but I couldn’t help it. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to muffle the sounds of my quiet cries.

“Oh! U-um, I didn’t mean to…” Their voice sounded quiet and worried. I just continued crying, not even caring what would happen to me. Who was I kidding? I could never have survived on my own! I should’ve known when that first human moved out. Sure it was okay at first, but obviously them moving was a sign that I wasn’t meant to be on my own. I should’ve listened to my parents and stayed with them. This would’ve never happened, I would be alive and healthy instead of on the brink of death and in Death’s hands himself. Literally. Who knows what this human would do to me? It was scary to think about.

“P-Please don’t h-hurt me.” I mumbled most likely too quiet for his ears to hear, leaning against what I think was his thumb. He flinched slightly, but why did it feel so… comfortable?

“Aw little guy,” He smiled softly, “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” I leaned into the warmth from his hands, hugging what was his thumb closely, still crying to myself. What else was I supposed to do? Of course I was scared but… I also just wanted someone to hold me. Right now I didn’t care that it was a human and I’d face my consequences later, I just wanted to be promised that I wouldn’t have to try so hard anymore. That I could just live without thinking about what I could manage to get for dinner.

“You were just… hungry?” He asked as I picked my head up, seeing him looking straight at the piece I had dropped on the counter. I shakily nodded my head, hoping he would see. For now, I would just hide my fear. Right now this human was giving me everything I’ve wanted this past week. Comfort, warmth. Heck, I’m even crying in front of him. How embarrassing was that and he still hasn’t said or asked me anything.

“Hm, here little guy.” He tried tilting me back onto the counter, but I grabbed onto his sleeve and hung on tighter. I didn’t want to be let go already. I know humans are bad and I’d face the consequences eventually, but right now I’d like to think that not all of them were as horrifying as the stories make them out to be.

He softly laughed, cupping both hands around me again. I sniffled, “C-could you… h-help me? P-please.” I tried wiping away my tears, but they just kept coming. My eyes felt red and puffy, my legs felt like jello, heart racing. I was a mixture of emotions. Terrified, filled with hope, and most of all grateful that this human hadn’t decided to hurt me yet.

The human studied me, worried. I stood still for a moment, hoping I would get my answer. It seemed ridiculous to be asking a human this. One that probably had no idea that they had saved me in the first place. My heart thumped in my chest, waiting in the eerie silence, awaiting my answer. My stomach still burnt from the deep gash, but I've had to go through worse. There was still some blood that was getting on the humans’ shirt sleeve, but that was the least of my worries.

I felt something rub against my back, making me flinch, but lean into the gentle touch. Some part of me knew that this was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. I was sitting in a humans’ hand, talking to one, being seen by one. And for some reason, it all felt right. Everything felt right. That this was meant to happen. That it was alright for me to be vulnerable to this human.

They started moving their hand as I continued to cry, pressing my face into the fabric of his shirt. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a makeshift hug. I could hear his heartbeat in the background beating rhythmically, the slight rise and fall of his chest with every slow breath he took. I sniffled, shocked from the gesture but otherwise grateful. I wasn’t going to die. I was alive. I felt safe. There was no more suffering, no more false hope, no more anything. I would be fine. I smiled to myself, trying to wipe away the tears trailing down my face.

I guess sometimes it’s okay to ask for help.

——————

I hope you enjoyed! I don't know how to feel about this myself, but I think it's alright! Again, I had a lot of fun writing and thank you for the prompt!

Slowly getting out of my writing slump, hopefully get these prompts done plus something reallyyyy exciting (well at least it is to me)

Thank you for reading! :D

Taglist: @da3dm

#g/t #g/t writing #g/t community #g/t comfort #g/t fluff #giant/tiny #ahh I was torn between two ideas for this #so I just did the classic borrower asking human for help #i know it's not my best writing but i think it still came out decent #I hope you enjoyed!#idk if you would like a second part #if you do just please let me know!#my writing #but aghhh im a sucker for comfort #thank you for the prompt!#love you guys ❤️

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sankatsuka · 9 months ago

Text

Backlit Lens Flare and CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY Discussion - Reigniting The Passion Lost to Peer Pressure

Everyone wants to have a place to belong, where the hard work we pour into the things we love will be seen and appreciated by people. But what happens when you decide you will never find this place and resign yourself to a life of solitude, only to be proven wrong by a group of people who insist on your wholehearted hard work? And it only later dawns on you that you will someday have to part ways and you will lose the miraculous place you finally found.

This is what I like to think Rui Kamishiro encapsulates - the battle between being yourself and wanting a place to belong. How easy it is to get swayed from what you love when you think you've found this place and start to subconsciously dedicate your passion to this place instead, to the point that if you're not aware enough, you can forget the feelings in your original passion (resulting in the hesitation and doubt in Curtain Call). After all, nobody is the same, and if you focus too much of your passion on them, that passion becomes about them and not yourself. Ultimately, it is how not acknowledging a healthy boundary with people who are different from you can affect your passion (Shiho as a character is very integral to this).

Warnings:

I believe the entire WxS plot is meant to be misdirection.

Personal interpretation of Rui and several characters by inferring from text.

I believe Rui is a flawed person with no bad intentions, so there will be criticism of his character here. I really suggest turning away if it upsets you.

Spoilers for all WxS unit stories up till Backlit Lens Flare (as well as for Saki, Shiho, Akito, Mafuyu and Mizuki's characters up to their most recent stories)

Edit (11/2/2024): Made multiple edits as always, but biggest change is talking more about the foils in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY and Kitty's message. Edit (12/2/2024): Compulsory mention of Rui's mom and how he was set up for failure from way back then. Edit (12/2/2024): Expansion on the parallels between Rui and Mafuyu - what it is that makes them the CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY and Jackpot Sad Girl. And a summary on how three commission parallels supports this interpretation of CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY about Rui's characters. Edit (13/2/2024): Lets add a bit more about how Resonate with You criticizes Rui's actions in Curtain Call. AND MANJI ALSO BEING A SLANG MEANING EXCITEMENT, STILL APPLIES TO TSUKASA IDC!!

Rui's character in the story starts off as someone who has thrown the part of himself who wants to have fun making things with people after being repeatedly let down by them. The early times with Wonderlands x Showtime helped him remember that desire from childhood to find a place that accepts that desire, that he criticizes Tsukasa for not appreciating WxS - for not realizing the best shows can't be accomplished without friends.

"--The best shows can't be done alone."

Following the fallout, Tsukasa and WxS' continued insistence and appreciation of him makes him start to see them as a place he can finally belong to. The place he's searched for for so long since childhood. That when he saw Tsukasa get hurt, he became swayed from doing the things he wanted to do for the first time and he hadn't even noticed it - because Tsukasa might leave him like his classmates had, so he has to hold back so as to not disappoint him further. This resulted in Tsukasa and Ruis second argument, with Tsukasa being angry at Rui for lying and holding back - which I later argue is the exact same feelings in his FUZAKERUNA in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY.

"This is surprising. I didn't think I'd ever feel this way." "Being afraid of losing your place, and then being unable to face the actors who seriously respond to you - this is a failing as a director."

However, this entire ordeal ended in Rui acknowledging his weakness, putting the whole deal behind them and moving on with the show, as KAITO advised. (Spoiler: it isn't weird at all to say that this happens again, with how he deals with it so indifferently like this.)

And then in Curtain Call, he becomes painfully aware that everyone may leave someday for their dreams--

"Someday, the day we will have to depart will come... For both me, and everyone."

Doesn't this just seem like a repeat of Halloween in a different way? He's scared they'll all leave him alone. One can say that Curtain Call ignited the exact same fear of being left alone and losing your place that Rui felt in Halloween - and his reaction feels exactly the same too: acknowledge it, put it behind you and move on to doing what is best for the best shows. After all, Rui lives for the best shows, because it is what makes him most happy - albeit Backlit Lens Flare suggests how he doesn't actually fully remember the joy and passion for shows he had as a child (discussed later). The best way to put it is - Rui feels like a walking corpse of his childhood.

Normally, when you realize this possibility of parting in the future, you talk to your friends about this (see: Saki Focus 3, Get Over It). But Rui refrains from talking to the people he should be talking to (WxS) and proceeds to go for the most obvious decision for his dream by joining Arklands. Only after Asahi turns him away does he go for the next obvious option he sees - the reckless decision that he would do everything in his power to achieve everyone's dreams together. And he can so confidently chase it because he's smart, only to be put down in Backlit Lens Flare lol.

Rui has really just been powering his way through the things he finds unpleasant, as KAITO had told him to in Halloween, ignoring the bad parts and doing everything for the sake for the best shows. You can really, really argue that KAITO's advice in Halloween seems very, very morally ambiguous now lol. He doesn't think ahead of what is the best choice and what would make him happiest - it's as if he's avoiding the very line of thought of how he would do post-WxS. Compared to Shiho in Focus 1, 'Resonate With You', who shows how she has thought it through and is happy enough just spending time with Leo/need for leisure - Rui doesn't even reach this line of thought of what happens next.

I think that he avoids thinking properly about these stuff because he wouldn't have a proper answer to it. Can he really trust Asahi when many other people have disappointed him after showing some interest before this? On the other hand, he's argued with Tsukasa twice and everyone is still enthusiastic - WxS is the only place he's ever felt secure.

"There were a few people who saw my ideas and said, 'it would be interesting if we could do it'." "But even those people gradually became reluctant with the more new ideas I brought to them."

It may generally be underestimated in the story just how much Rui doesn't inherently trust people and actors.

Even CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY begins with 'Nobody's listening anyway. Music's all just fashion, players leaving the field after devouring dead sounds one night.' which can be interpreted as people who became reluctant after they spent too long around Rui as he says to KAITO above, innit.

And then, Backlit Lens Flare happens and Rui encounters ??? (Sakaki). Sakaki immediately identifies the problem with Bakuno's acting, pinpointing it to the directors instead of the actor. Rui was not able to.

Remember, the freelance option isn't permanent - there's the possibility someone may be recruited away (It's a story for another day that he is only really worried about Tsukasa instead of the whole WxS but doesn't realize this). Rui paying attention to their growths first of all before his own is testament to how he's trying to make sure they quickly grow so they can achieve their dreams together:

"...It seems it became good stimulation for both of them right away." "...I also need to more proactively study from this opportunity."

So even now, Rui is more worried about WxS over himself. He prioritizes making sure they are getting something out of the freelancing gig over himself. Only after watching them was he stimulated to do his best too - and here comes the question, where did his drive to be proactive for his own passion go to?

Sakaki's ingenuity finally pops this question to Rui's mind. Had Rui's brain not been filled with the worry of losing his place, he may have been able to think more clearly and just as quickly reach the same conclusion as Sakaki. If he had been filled with thoughts of what was satisfying for himself instead of how he could stay with everyone, he may have been able to create a much better film (see: Shiho Focus 3, Stick to Your Faith). In fact, why is he even so bothered about falling behind Sakaki, when Rui isn't even an adult or a professional director himself?

It's not normal to be bothered about that: Nene was never hard on herself for not being as good as Kazamatsuri, because it's a given she's far away. But she does get upset with herself when she realizes she had looked down on Sakurako and naively seen her as an equal. You only react that way with people you see as equals if you're secure.

Perhaps, the passionate person Rui used to be would have admired Sakaki and want to learn from him out of a pure love for shows instead. And not be so bothered about how he was falling behind professionals.

We see Rui fail twice in the story: not figuring out the problem with the scene, and not thinking ahead of personalizing the script like Ohara had. (There is a third time too: how Tsukasa and WxS seem so moved by Bakuno's performance that Rui played no part in - meaning there are others who could easily replace him - if the emotions in this discussion hold true). And it's no wonder it would have him start questioning and blaming his obsession with WxS for it - if he had not been preoccupied with them, he may have avoided his failures altogether, and even if he did, he wouldn't have been this upset.

It's like a hit to his ego. Is how he's acting and behaving really the same boy who loved shows and would do anything for a show that would satisfy him?

Right now, it's as if Rui is trying hard to protect his position as a talented genius that surpasses everyone so WxS will need him for their dreams and want him around. No one can replace him; only he can achieve their dreams for them.

But Sakaki and Ohara prove him wrong.

The closing lines of Backlit Lens Flare, where he focuses on his own feelings towards directing instead of anything WxS learned, implies this self-realization of how he had been behaving. Rui is finally focused on himself.

"I'm disappointed that I didnt come up with this method, but strangely enough, I feel refreshed." "Directing... really is interesting."

FIRST UP. WHY DID YOU NEED TO COME UP WITH THE METHOD. SECONDLY, WHY ARE YOU REFRESHED. It makes sense to me as someone who's been carried away a lot: when you realize you lost sight of your original intentions and began worrying more about so many unnecessary things, you feel bitter at your mistake but relieved and refreshed you've finally been woken up.

To me, all of these feel like they're pointing to Rui being afraid of losing his place in WxS. So he has to be capable of solving everything, achieving everyone's dreams, so they will need him for it and they can keep staying this way. Before this, it seemed like a normal human emotion he had just never experienced before, but now, it's starting to show it's actually detrimenting his passion.

This is what I believe the theme of trends are playing into in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY - doing anything you can to make sure there will be people to hear and appreciate your music, and the spite in realizing you've lost yourself in that pursuit. Money is the artificial love you receive by catering to people so they would stay and listen to you. It's heartless, but following his character, it seems the crowd he's referring to is WxS. Because they have their strong individualistic dreams and just won't simply stay with him as he wants them to, he has to keep worrying about keeping up with them (Tsukasa mainly):

But still, here, there, everywhere, loners, manji, Gen Z, even monkeys want it.

Loners=Rui Manji (a sign of good things to come)=Tsukasa (being surrounded by good luck charms; kanji 天 being associated with heaven; inviting Rui to WxS) (edit: manji is also a slang for excitement, which Tsukasa literally is for Rui) Gen Z=Nene (digital age, playing video games) Monkey=Emu (in Rui's picnic card and Emu in Sky's Edge)

(In NY2, Emu ended up drawing tons of big luck omikuji, and Tsukasa is surrounded by monkeys in Island Panic - so you can suggest their roles are reversed. But the robot monkey Tsukasa in picnic suggests Tsukasa isn't a real monkey.)

Curtain Call and Backlit Lens Flare together show how not addressing and expressing fears properly and simply moving on changes nothing. Self-awareness and powering through is useless advice - anyone who's had troubles with lovers, friends and family know you need to talk and accomodate each other. Or not, is it even feeling loved and cared anymore, isn't it just about control then?

In Resonate with You, Shiho makes Leo/need think through their choice to join her into becoming a professional, rather than accepting them right off the bat. She knows from her prior experience working with people that half-hearted musicians would only fail, suffer and drop out. It is only by Leo/need wholeheartedly declaring their intentions of facing music sincerely and seriously that Shiho is convinced that they can all do it together for sure. This is such a contrast to Rui in Curtain Call where he decides on his own that he will find a way for WxS to achieve their dream together, while barely thinking at all. And he winds up focusing so much on making sure WxS stays together. You need to think it through, face the future seriously and talk properly. NOT JUST LEAVE IT THERE!!

Or else you'll lose sight of your original motivation from focusing too much on things that don't really matter as much to you: you'll just end up half-hearted.

Further proof that Backlit Lens Flare is Rui's realization of his half-heartedness since Curtain Call, is that Tsukasa gets angry at him in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY like he does in Halloween. It isn't even a desperate shout to save someone - it's like a look of pure judgmental disappointment, as if they've been through this already. Stop lying.

He already shouted in anger in Halloween. If that didn't reach Rui, then there was no point in being all angry anymore.

Rui was repeating Halloween, trying so hard to protect the place he belongs to and forgot what he himself truly wants. From there, the lyrics in the entire CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY are self-explanatory: what happened to the things you wanted to sing? (I was so happy with the lyrics because it was exactly what I was thinking in Curtain Call but no one seemed to care).

One thing you can never take away from Rui is that he is a very, very passionate guy. He loves what he does that he would spend every waking hour of his day working on it. Even if he's become a shell of his former self, his body is still naturally drawn to shows (Samsa Kanade reference heh). And Rui himself believes himself to be purely passionate too. So when he realizes that passion has been thoroughly dirtied, it makes sense he's as angry as he is in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY.

In Anni 2, Rui says he didn't know what he wanted to do like Mafuyu, but then he corrects himself to say he THOUGHT he knew.

"Actually, in the past, I didn't know what I wanted to do." "No... I should say that I thought I knew, but I actually didn't know at all."

For a brief moment, Rui thought he was just like Mafuyu with nothing to call his own. Until he quickly remembers that he did indeed have something he wanted to do, but claims to have been mistaken.

Why did you briefly relate to a girl who felt like she had nothing she wanted to do like everyone else, if that isn't a sign of his current state of mind - feeling like he has no dreams like WxS, and having to keep up with them so that he can feel like he belongs (discussed later in the parallels with Cinema). His lost passion became more evident at this point of the story.

If you 'thought you knew', then that means it was once a genuine feeling too. Even if you're alone, doing what you love is still fun - Shiho in her Focus 3, 'That Day, The Sky Was Far Away' demonstrates this. Although she had been let down by the bandmates, she was still fine alone because music made her feel better. And she even inspired Mihane because of her enthusiasm. After all, what you love to do should make you happy to some extent.

In comparison, Rui seems to have forgotten that shows were actually fun in middle school (probably because Stick to Your Faith never happened for him). When he approached Mizuki, he was standoffish and didn't think to introduce Mizuki to the fun of shows even when they expressed some interest in it. Probably because he couldn't even remember it himself. But being able to make that decision suggests he did still have some semblance of emotions that felt like shows were fun. Once again, a walking corpse of his chiildhood.

In the end, it's like he already lost this original joy for shows since middle school, and then grew even more confused about what made him happiest with the new joy he experienced after finding a place in WxS. He hasn't been able to wholeheartedly enjoy his passion because he's been continuously rejected, and he thought he was having fun when WxS accepted him - but in the end, that fun was from finally finding a place.

Update: Tetrad gives more implications of how Rui had gone astray post-Curtain Call. Tsukasa and Rui sing together, "We're facing the same direction", but Rui appears troubled. It's like Rui can't declare that he is chasing his dreams as confidently as the rest of WxS. Deep down, a part of him probably knew this even before Backlit Lens Flare happened but was afraid of facing it.

I would further go on to associate CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY to both Kitty and Cinema which its imagery resembles. The card set takes place in Shibuya where Kitty takes place in, and Cinema uses the same director's cut + Tsukasa's trained card directly mentions Cinema on the billboard.

There's also the naming that is clearly based on Jackpot Sad Girl - which I think just goes to highlight how both Rui and Mafuyu have the power through it mindset that it lands them dead and sad respectively: people need to reconcile their differences with others to truly love and feel alive (Rui) and people can't endure stress for too long without getting depressed (Mafuyu). Both ignored their human needs and thus this is where they wound up.

The parallel with Kitty feels like it's also within the overall messaging - how facing things can lead to losing yourself even more when you aren't mentally prepared and have no clear-cut answer (sounds similar to what Rui carelessly did in Curtain Call, doesn't it?). In Mafuyu's case, she seemed about ready to change herself again to please her mother, and in Mizuki's case, opening up to Niigo would make them more sensitive to what they say and probably even change themselves so as to not be left alone. Mizuki has even expressed this sentiment once by dressing as a boy in middle school, when they already knew they loved cute things since childhood and was even reaffirmed by their sister.

In Our Survival and Escape, the point is made that it's BECAUSE Mizuki never opened up to Niigo that they were able to protect their heart. Compare this to Rui, who bore everything about himself to WxS by not holding back with his performances and past and thus gained their unconditional acceptance. As a result, he becomes swayed by them when he realizes that things would come to an end and becomes preoccupied with stopping it even at the cost of himself - his passion. If Mizuki had similarly put their utmost trust in Niigo like this, it wouldn't be surprising either if they quickly get swayed to stop expressing themselves too if one of them ever expressed dismay (hinting that they would leave).

Thus, in order to find the answer to real love, you have to protect your heart first, even if it means running away and distancing yourself from others (Kitty). But unlike Mizuki, Rui was taught from childhood to simply not care about what people say, so he has never been aware of just how much words can affect you (compare the advice Mizuki's sister and Rui's mom gave them: completely different). This winds him up in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY, where he's unknowingly adjusting himself for WxS to not leave him.

As for Cinema, both songs capture how Akito and Rui's struggles and fears at the time feel like the exact same - being left behind and losing your place because you weren't enough, to the point of losing who you really are (Akito pushing himself to be passionate to match everyone else, Rui falling into the trap of peer pressure to match everyone else. What they envy in 'everyone else' is how they want things that Akito and Rui don't feel like they really care about and view as meaningless. But in truth, they don't care about it only because they're more concerned about belonging - they've always had it deep down in them.).

But in Akito's case, VIVID BAD SQUAD directly reaches out for him when he pushes himself far too much and forces himself to suffer to make up for his lack of talent. That's why Akito is reassured that even at his weakest and most pathetic, there will be people there who refuse to leave him alone. So Cinema feels like Akito freely lamenting on how he's different from the people, that he can't keep up with them, but with VBS by his side, he feels like it's fine to find and pursue who he truly is.

On the other hand, CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY feels like Rui's suppressed spite from having to keep up with WxS in order to not be left alone. Because everyone else will betray him, it has to be and can only be WxS who've endured him until now. It's the first time he found people who would stay, so he's desperate not to lose them that he would subconsciously change himself so he can keep matching their needs. And the realization makes him spiteful, because he's lost what was fun for him from that need to change for others to stay. And he's left to stay lost to the very end, because the only way right now for him to be himself and stop worrying is by others matching him instead, but there is no way to 100% control people - compared to Akito who found his answer by coming to terms with the impossibility to control yourself to be someone else. Because VBS was there to accept him as he was when he was trying so hard to be someone else.

Rui will probably eventually realize he has to just accept he's lost his passion from the fear of being alone and stop lamenting controlling everything around him, once he gets tired of it and reaches his limit like Akito in Stray Bad Dogs.

Suddenly everyone started up onto a nonsense scenario (Whatever you do, wherever you look, there's a traffic of influencers.)

It's just like a movie, exactly like a movie. (But still, here, there, everywhere, loners, manji, Gen Z, even monkeys want it.)

No matter where you go, there's a story. (Just give me a punchline, its meaning can be whatever.)

Cinema and CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY are like the perspectives of two boys who feel like outsiders to the world, but one is actively trying change himself to belong somewhere and the other finds himself suddenly facing peer pressure when he used to not care about belonging somewhere. It's even contrasted in Akito's customer service front and Rui's indifference to school terrorism that they are foils of one another in a society. And probably why Akito hates Rui too - for taking any means necessary to achieve what he wants without a care for people, when Akito has spent his life working hard to be equals to people in order to belong.

[More similarities in lyrics, in no particular order (CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY in brackets):

Traffic’s already jammed up now. Oh well, nothing I can do about that anyway (Whatever you do, wherever you look, there's a traffic of influencers.)

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” "What was it supposed to be like then?" (What happened to things you wanted to sing about?)

Back then I'm sure it was there. The thing that I envisioned was there. When was it that I... (There must have been something you wanted to sing about.)

What are you playing at? Who are you trying to be? There's no way you could be that, right? (At this rate this will never end. What you want definitely isn't money.)]

Maybe it's coincidence, but the lyrics in Cinema also reference Curtain Call very early on:

Someday it'll be bye-bye when the end comes, so Smile for the curtain call and applause.

Cinema is accepting of it and faces it head-on. Rui still avoids it.

And Cinema also captured what happened in Backlit Lens Flare with Bakuno. Something Rui couldn't figure out on his own without Sakaki and Emu:

If you're not suited for the role, Then just rewrite the script!

This is as if implying Akito realizes early on that people are all different, and there may come a time you have to part because of your differences. So you don't have to keep worrying about fitting in - try your best to be yourself instead and smile when it all ends.

This is something that Rui hasn't faced at all, so it's pretty meta that he hadn't thought of matching the actor's individualities. It seems he's lived with the belief that directors have to adjust themselves according to the level they believe the actors are on and actors have to work their hardest to live up to the director's wishes at all times - because the director knows best. Instead of truly understanding their actors for who they are as individuals and what they individually need.

"I always try to cast actors in a way that brings out their strengths." "That's why I always get you to play the role of a type that is easiest for you to match."

And this becomes a regret for Rui in the same story - realizing that he hadn't thought enough about what Tsukasa really wanted and needed.

"...I feel a little regretful that I hadn't thought that far."

Nene's surprise at Rui's words further imply that this isn't how he normally is. That he wouldn't be thinking so much about people and their personal needs.

It isn't therefore surprising that he agrees with and commits to the mindset that he has to power through his emotions without speaking to anyone. He expects that from his actors, and applying it to real life, it means that your role and scenario have already been decided from birth and what was left was living up to it. It's frighteningly similar to the lyrics in Engeki, which I wasn't even thinking about. Except it wasn't forced on him but rather something Rui decided on his own, with no harmful intent from the people who fed that mindset. Even before KAITO - it was his mother who unknowingly instilled this in him:

"People are people, I am myself. If you take care of what you like, someday you'll be able to make friends too. Like how I met your dad." (i.e. don't bother with the painful things around you, just keep doing what you do and keep going until you get there.)

And hence why this commission is full of firey anger. The story tramples on the way Rui has lived until now, proving him wrong when he thought he finally found his answer by powering through his fear of losing WxS. How it made him realize that he had at some point been driven by something petty like being with friends forever and lost the passionate part of him, the one who would do anything to satisfy himself. He's realized he's no longer having fun like the child he used to be, evident from the lyrics that start off with how he no longer has anything he wants to convey.

"Now let's all laugh. Aren't views more important than art? A terrible price for the virus. So what will you do? Is that really fine?" The lyrics are as if Rui is finally realizing that everything he's been doing, making people smile up until now, has been just for views (for WxS to stay around), and it finally makes him question, is this what he really wants??? Where did all the passion, fun and self-satisfaction that he thought he was making shows for went to???

(This is a more literal translation, the popular TL translates it as Then what do we do? Was that how it was supposed to go?)

I don't know if it's clear now - but in conclusion, CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY feels very much like Rui realizing how he was more focused on protecting his place over enjoying what he does. The first lines of the song do seem to be screaming a spitefulness in not being able to just do what you enjoy: "No one wants to listen (...), I don't have anything I want to convey (...)"

That's why CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY is an ironic name, appearing on the director's cut to imply they're filming a movie of Rui's life. How Rui had been living dead against his own self - falling victim to peer pressure (trends) to protect his place in WxS. Until Sakaki reminds him of the heights his true self wanted to reach and reignites the passionate fire for theatre inside him.

In summary, to simplify it, CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY's parallels come together to tell a complete story about Rui Kamishiro (biased but idc): 1) Jackpot Sad Girl: The unhealthiness of Rui and Mafuyu's mindset of powering through what they think they want without properly talking to people. 2) Kitty: How putting your trust in people can sway your heart and steer you away from what you truly want, something Mizuki knows and thus avoids but not Rui. 3) Cinema: A combination of Jackpot Sad Girl and Kitty - how a person with Rui's mindset is left feeling angry and confused when realizing he has lost himself from having his heart unexpectedly swayed by people. This is foiled by a complete opposite like Akito who has lived a life with no reason to truly call his own and is bitterly aware of how it is all because his life has always been completely defined by other people.

(Man, I LOVE the Cinema foils so much. Akito and Rui are such perfect opposites I LOVE THEM.)

And finally, from the end of CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY:

Devoid of soul, music remains silent Unheard lyrics conceal their essence; without playback, music loses its meaning. Thus, modern music is pronounced deceased.

YES. YES. DEVOID OF SOUL AS I SAID, HOW RUI KAMISHIRO FEELS LIKE A WALKING CORPSE OF HIS CHILDHOOD. PLAYBACK!!! LOOK BACK AT YOUR PAST AND FIND YOURSELF!!! REMEMBER THE JOY AND PASSION YOU CAN'T GIVE UP RUI-KUN!!! Stop trying to keep people around, face solitude and be brave: what's most important is to be yourself!

Backlit Lens Flare felt like a reawakening for Rui, and it's why it's one of the best stories alongside Pandemonium for me. If Tsukasa is completely avoidant, then Rui is full of blatant lies. But of course because the writers will never clearly describe the emotions in WxS stories, I can't confirm this is the intended interpretation. It's just my own personal interpretation that I enjoy best and makes most emotional sense to my personal experiences.

But my opinions are bound to change because there are soooo many ways of seeing things. For now, this is what I think of Rui Kamishiro in Backlit Lens Flare and CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY.

#project sekai #rui kamishiro #kamishiro rui #wonderlands x showtime #wxs #it's so difficult to talk about rui #i do kinda get how this feels but i guess it's hard to put into words because of how dull the feeling is and you don't even know its there #until you do something thats out of character for yourself #someone whos always trying to convince themselves they dont care when people hurt them will get it #ok i take back my comments on the popular tl of cyberpunk dead boy being biased its just difficult to translate lol #rui is literally set for failure and doomed by the narrative #im sorry i keep editing i just find it so hard to put my thoughts about rui into words

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finlay-papers · 2 months ago

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I fear I've summoned the entire SWTD fandom with a joke image I posted like 2 days ago...… /hj

Guess I'll do like everybody else slap out an actual "introduction" statement thing lol

I, myself, am multifandom but my Tumblr blog will remain chained to Still Wakes The Deep, other socials do conform to other fandoms and original characters (other social platforms won't be stated in this post or linktree)

You *can* ask me anything, whether it be general information about me, headcanons for a character you're drooling over /lh, such

I'm not particularly judgemental on the AMA bit lmao

To the 'AMA' commission bit, regardless of if I want pay or not, I can still do art/hc/char-sheet commissions without pay, since currently they're just hobby work on a hobby website

Of course hcs aren't a pay-to-have situation, so they nonetheless no matter what won't change, just ask and recieve them lol

More personally :3

My names Jack, I'm a transgender [male] teenager and I do writing and artistry for the most part of my internet presence. I'm danish, but speak predominantly only English online. I am textually tonedeaf, meaning I don't pick up on social cues and most sarcasm, use tonetags if you can. Alongside the comprehensive issues, I have an array of more issues, like heavy narcissism, apathy and extreme aggression control problems. I, of course, am trying to better myself and my mentioned respective issues, and if the unfortunate happens and the rather lacking aggression does file through, I do entirely apologize and take accountability once settling down. Albeit how possibly assholeish or unemotional I could seem. Most of my social media feature more mature content, whether it's just smaller mature topics all up to nsfw content. I'm not shy to graphic description and won't mind making something of those contexts [Like character.ai bots, which I'm starting to do soon, this text box will change once I finish]

TW: ‼️ Mentions of immorality [inhumane crimes] ‼️

In line of the "not shy to NSFW", I do have set boundaries around that for myself and my work. Which includes but is not limited to; Pedophilia, incest, hatecriming, trans/homophobia, grooming, age gaps too pedophilic [EXAMPLE: 19 x 54], borderline sexual misuse/abuse.

And boundaries as of my platform, as I potentially grow here, I'm not gonna use the platform to bash people. Though there is one minor exception and that is spreading a person for awareness of their actions. A thing I've been doing for years, and something I will keep on doing.

Umm, yeah that's the shit for now, might add on as we summon more‼️🔥

#intro post #blog intro #pinned intro #introduction #introductory post #still wakes the deep #swtd #gacha club #gacha life 2

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sparkles-and-trash · 6 months ago

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dabihawks, post war drabble ~

Keigo loves Thursdays.

Really, what's not to love? Like, it's the day before Friday, for one!

It's also a home office day for Keigo, so he can sleep in, which is a new thing he does now!

The fact that Thursday also just happens to be the day he meets up with Touya in the afternoons is merely a coincidence, not at all any reason that Thursdays are now so special to him.

Totally random.

However, here he is now, scuttling about his apartment that he has barley fully moved into, moving around his little trinkets and trying to make the place look more lived in than it truly is.

It's Touya's first time seeing this place since he joined him during the viewing when it was for sale, and Keigo might care just a tiny bit that it looks nice.

And if, when Keigo opens the door and sees Touya standing there looking all healthy (ish, he's getting there) and radiant and with the stupid half smirk, half smile he always sports when he firsts sees Keigo, if then his heart skips a beat, like it does every damn time, well then that is his business and his business alone.

Keigo can hardly keeps his wings from flapping when Touya takes in the apartment with awe, commenting at how Keigo finally discovered his own taste, and he can't help but following the white haired man around with little hops of excitement as they go.

Touya has a way of undoing him like this.

But after the initial excitement of the apartment dies down and they sit down on Keigo's new (used) couch with their tea, Keigo can tell there's something Touya's trying to say.

...but he can't seem to get to it, so Keigo decides to give him a nudge.

"So, how was the Program today?" the hero asks casually, eyeing the in reform ex-villain casually.

Touya huffs.

"It's all the same at this point," he says with a roll of his beautiful, turquoise eyes.

Keigo makes a questioning sound, and Touya continues.

"Actually," Touya adds, and Keigo perks up hoping to finally catch on to what's been bothering his guest.

Touya takes a moment to look Keigo up and down for a second, before he continues.

"I met this weird guy today, apparently he used to work for... them."

It's Keigo's turn to snort.

"You can say the Commission Touya, it's not a curse word," the hero says with a smirk.

"Not that a curse word or ten ever stopped you," he adds and Touya gives a small smile.

"Yeah, well, they only let very few people from there keep working with the new programs, but this guy clearly got to stay," Touya elaborate.

Keigo waits for Touya to finally get to the point, but he's getting a little impatient, which his frazzled wings are starting to show off.

"He asked about you," Touya finally admits, and Keigo's chest does a weird, contracting thing.

"Who..."

Keigo's voice trails off before he can finish his question, but he doesn't have to.

"He said he used to... I guess he took care of you? When you were little?" Touya asks carefully.

Keigo feels himself nod, but he doesn't find his voice.

It has to be Mera.

Mera, with his messy hair and deep set eye-bags, drowsy voice and oddly comforting presence.

Mera who never lost his patience with young Keigo who had no clue about the most normal things, who never ridiculed him, who bandages him up after rough trainings, and who tucked him back into bed after nightmares.

Keigo hadn't seen him since he turned eighteen and was pushed from the nest so roughly he nearly crashed into the pavement.

Keigo turned his attention back to Touya, and with a small voice he manages to ask:

"What did he ask?"

Touya's face was uncharacteristically soft when he took Keigo in for a moment before he spoke again.

"He heard that we're... friends, I guess, and wanted to ask me how you're doing."

Keigo wasn't sure if he imagined it, but he thought he saw a tiny blush on Touya's face when he fumbled to describe their relationship.

He sorta really hoped he did, at least.

"What did you tell him?" Keigo asked, and Touya hummed.

"That you're busy making your first very own nest, that you're still a squawking, strange little bird that's in love with his own reflection and- OUCH!" Touya's tired halted as Keigo (not so) gently slapped Touya's shoulder with his wing.

"You're such an idiot!" Keigo said as he rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide his smile either.

When Touya was done pouting Keigo raised his eyebrows silently asking for the real answer.

"I told him you're doing better," Touya said simply, and Keigo nodded.

"That's true, I guess," he agreed.

Touya hums and moves to awkwardly pick at a loose thread at his sleeve, which is a sure sign there's more to the story.

"Touya..?" Keigo asked, and Touya nods.

"Yeah, he... he asked if I could tell you he'd love to meet you again."

Keigo's surprised to find his eyes growing a little wet.

"He asked if..?" he asks hoarsely, and Touya's nice enough for once to not point out how hard the question hit the hero.

"Yeah, and I said I'd ask, so, I guess this is that."

Keigo nods, a thousand thoughts flying trough his head at top speed.

Neither of them said anything for a while, and Keigo didn't manage to stop his thought until Touya lightly bumped into his shoulder.

"You can say no, you know?" he says casually.

"Would you come with me?" Keigo asks before Touya even managed to shut his mouth after speaking.

And now it simply hangs open in surprise.

"You want me...?" Touya starts, and Keigo nods.

"To come with me to see him." Keigo finishes.

Touya looks at him for what feels like forever, before he smiles softly, so soft Keigo's heart nearly explodes.

Keigo's eyes registers that Touya's mouth moves, but he doesn't need to hear to understand what the answer is.

Keigo meant to hug him, he swears, but then somewhere along the way his brain decided to go rouge and then...

Then he's kissing Touya.

And Touya is kissing him back.

They are kissing.

And Keigo is quite sure everything will be okay, after all.

#dabihawks #toukei #hawks #dabi #keigo x touya #dabi x hawks #hawks x dabi #keigo takami #touya todoroki #touya x keigo #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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nananarc · 4 months ago

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Gonna disclose my income as a freelance artist because I feel like it might give some perspective. And mostly bc I'm feeling a bit burnout and I want pity points ok? Lol.

Context 1: For sake of simplicity, all figures are net income (minused all fees, charges, insurance, benefits, etc)

Context 2: I live in a big city in Việt Nam and the cost of living is relatively low. A salary of 1000$/month is considered really good for someone living alone with one pet, no family or children, no debt or other liabilities. Entry level jobs usually start at around 200-300$/month.

Let's start in 2021 because that's when it can be considered when I started doing art professionally.

In 2021 and 2022, I was juggling between art school, a part-time online side gig, building social media for my art, and of course try to get commissions. But coms were few and far between, mainly because I didn't have an online present before and I only hang in relatively small fandoms. So all I earn through side gig and art were only some change, in total avarage to about 40$/ month. Some months made up for no income months.

In 2023, things starts to be a bit better as I get more confident in my skill, but coms are still few and far between and months with no income is still common. Side gig was few and far between too and pay less. Overall I'd say it goes up to about 80$/month.

This year 2024, art school is done, I can finally do art full time. But I was severely burnout because all the accumulated stress since waaaaay before catch up with me and i couldn't cope anymore. I have to spend a lot of time resting instead. Fortunately, I received a decent amount of coms each month, and the new patreon surprisingly got a few supporters (I fully realistically expected it to sit at 0 for at least a year). Overall, I have an 8 hours 4 days work week: 4 hours a day on com and managing social media and other stuff that actually makes money; 4 hours a day on my own projects and personal indulgence that doesn't directly make money. As of now, my income is about 180$/month.

You are probably wondering how the fuck do one live like this in this economy.

It's because my family is middle class and can afford a freeloader like me in their house, receive their pocket money and tuition fee. I'm privileged.

But of course my family isn't rich and if just one catastrophic event happens to us, we'd be in bad shit. I'm constantly in anxiety of money, work, and the future. It doesn't help that I'm late 20s and many people around keep reminding of how I'm not making money yet still leeching off parents. It doesn't help that, for years all i hear about art is it will just lead to failure and no money.

But still, I am thankful of my family for letting me stay here. And all my friends and supporters for giving me money oc lol, but more importantly, believing in me more than I ever do in myself. I read all of your little tags, your keysmash and compliments, and I keep them all dear to my heart, and I went back to them everytime I need motivation. I can't see where my future as an artist will be, but I cling to your support and love as the will to keep going. Thank you all so, so fucking much. I'd have been literally dead in a ditch somewhere without you guys.

Anyway, idk, I've always been adamant about wage transparency (especially in a corporate setting) but I rarely see this in freelance artists. except to flex, to promote the hustle culture, or to sell some courses they made. Most of us don't want/can't subscribe to the grind and have nothing to flex either. All we have is this shit economy. I'd wish we could have been more open about this and many of us wouldn't have to feel so lonely and despair all the time.

#my income isnt exactly secret tho you can see my price list #and my waitlist with com infos #and my patreon income is public #so this is just a confirmation ig lol #also of course #rant #lol #cryptic na posting

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the-mandawhor1an · 6 months ago

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6 months later...

TLDR: it's Zaddy's and my RP 'anniversary'; artworks; Wolke being emotional about her Tumblr experience; and a fluffy one shot/drabble at the end of the WAY TOO LONG POST

I've alluded to it before, I've commissioned some artwork of the two lovebirbs and they just so happened to get finished this week. Huge thanks to @kenobiwanx for making the two come alive 😭 I can NOT stop staring at them.

LOOK AT THEM 😭😭😭

Yes these are spoilers for upcoming events but I just 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

@zaddymandalorian Überraschung!

Back to the actual point *wipes tears off her face*

Let's set the scene...

My dearest Zaddy and I reconnected in November of 2023 as I had been on a work trip at that time and I needed someone to talk to. We'd been talking on and off for the last months, mostly smalltalk and sometimes me complaining about stuff. Worth mentioning is also that I sent her my Maia fanfic back in June. First person to read it besides myself. I've known Zaddy since spring of 2016 ish (which also means I've known her longer than my husband – fun fact) so I felt comfortable with her reading my extremely self-indulgent shit. Everyone needs friends like that ♥

We mused about the roleplays we lost to forum admins being ruthless in their inactive-thread-deletion efforts every 4 months. We had barely started a Witcher RP and I'm sure it would've been awesome if we had continued. We literally stopped 7 ish posts in so nothing had happened really. – Why was it inactive? Well I took a 14 month roleplay hiatus due to me being chronically fatigued. The joys of working a stressful job and being severly anemic. Oops.

I tested the waters and made an offhand comment about maybe giving in and asking her to plot something with me.

This is a very convincing re-enactment of what happened: (translated because we're German potaters)

Well... and that's when the fun began

I, being a total Pedro fangirlie, asked if we wanted to just take the synopsis of my fic and run with that. She agreed, I was happy, she was happy.

So it's been 6 months.

OH. MY. GOD.

I did not think I had it in me to be consistently posting daily for 6 months. We've laughed, we've cried, we've lost sleep over it. We've grinned into our phone screens like maniacs at work and luckily no one asked

And now, 260k words later, I'm still in love with the babies. In fact I'd say I love the little blorbs even more now. Maia has a face, she has outfits (multiple!) she has a family and a story (that's only about 1/3 written so whew we might make it to a million)

Of course I also love Zaddy very much (and I will keep lovebombing your ass, bitch 🖤💜)

You know what, fuck it, I'm mentioning more people. Buckle up! Wolke spreads some love!

@immarocketman for being the first person on Tumblr that I kind of clicked with because we share a love for Pedro and the color purple 💜

@roughdaysandart for 1) allowing me insight in her creative process making a Fanfic comic and b) doodling Maia basically as soon as she made an appearance in text form 💜

The moots: @thefrogdalorian @djarins-cyare @djarins-wife @pedroswife69 for interacting with me, commenting on my posts and being real cute in general 💜

Everyone that ever interacted with me on here has been nothing but friendly, I feel extremely welcome over here. Everyone who liked/reblogged or commented on my posts, thank you so much. 💕💕💕💕💕💕

Now that the sappy whining is over, who wants to read something actually interesting?

In spirit of me being overbearingly loving, I've typed up a bit of fluff from the lovesick fools™ of Clan Mudhorn. Unbeta'd.

It was early in the morning, the sun barely over the horizon and engulfing the room in warm orange light, when Din awoke, a soft and warm body nestled into his side. She let out the softest little hum when he buried his face in her hair, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close.

"Sleep," he purred into her hair, placing a kiss on her forehead when her face turned towards him. Again, with a quiet hum, she buried her face in the crook of his neck. "How am I supposed to sleep when my husband has his hands all over me?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized and gently stroked her hair. "Why are you awake anyway?" she asked, finally raising her head so her sleepy, green eyes looked into his. "Hey mesh'la," he greeted her with a smile, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. "I don't know. I guess the sun woke me up, it's too bright in here." He sighed. "I miss the hut on Nevarro, it was always dark in there." "Come on, it's not that bad here. We needed more space anyway."

She pulled away from him, rolling over so she was on her stomach, hugging the pillow underneath her to get a better look at her everything. "Is the sun too strong, my warrior king?" a grin crept onto her lips as her eyes blinked slowly. Clearly this was way too early for her liking. To be fair, last night went on for longer than anticipated. "Are the little troublemakers awake yet?" She raised her head and turned to face the door. For now it seemed peaceful and quiet in the adjacent rooms.

Knowing well she would rise from the bed to check if he didn't stop her, Din hoisted himself over her body, practically pressing her into the mattress with his body weight. "You're not getting up to check on the kids now, cyar'ika," he muttered, peppering kisses along her shoulder. A chuckle escaped her lips as she rotated her head so she could see him in her peripheral.

She was so glad the mattress was soft enough to just give in under the weight, forming a perfectly human-shaped dent to make way for her body. "Whatever you say, great Mand'alor." For just a second she could feel him grind his pelvis into her butt.

He kept on pressing kisses on her neck, her shoulders, slowly crawling down her spine, kissing every little scar he found on his descent. "You really have to stop saying it like that." "Like what?" "With the bedroom-voice." He stopped to crawl back up to her head and leaned forward, giving her the chance to look into his face. His eyes were darkened, one of his eyebrows twitching upward.

"You're insatiable," she laughed, shaking her head. He slowly lifted off of her, immediately wrapped both arms around her and pulled her onto his chest. "That's your fault, my love." His voice was warm and silky, the vibration in his chest making her shudder. "My fault?" "You're just too beautiful so I can't keep my eyes or my hands off of you for long." "Di'kut" "Gar di'kut, forever." "Forever is a long time," she said softly and ran her fingers through his hair.

"And I'll be happy to spend every minute with you. I love you so much" he took her hand in his and softly kissed her knuckles. She sighed and watched him kiss every finger, eyeing her intently. She was mesmerized by his eyes, almost hypnotized by the dark brown, with the orange light surrounding them it reminded her of embers, glowing and warm.

Forever was a long time and although it didn't feel like it, time was progressing, evident by the threads of silver that sparkled in his dark brown curls. And although she felt like she herself was showing signs of ageing, he always told her she was as beautiful as the day he met her. "I love you more, mesh'la," she replied and rested her hand on his cheek.

"You and the kids are everything to me. I would die for you," he mused, closing his eyes as her finger brushed over his beard toward his lips. Her movements halted and the dark brown eyes reopened, scanning her features for signs of her sudden stop. The small crease on her forehead was enough for him to know exactly what was troubling her.

"Look at me," he pleaded with her, cupping her cheek in one of his hands now. "I know that look on your face. I would doesn't mean I will. Stop thinking about it. I'm here and so are you." Her hand slowly retreated to rest atop of his, thumb brushing over his warm and tanned skin. "Thanks to you, I am. You've saved my life once, I hope you don't have to do it a second time." She smiled warmly and nestled her face further into his hand.

Din grumbled and pulled her face closer, peppering it with kisses wherever he could reach. "I've saved your life twice. But it doesn't matter, you've given me more than I could ever imagine. I have a family now. And the most amazing wife in the galaxy." "I love you." "Until the end of space and time."

Both flinched when they heard a noise outside the bedroom. Instantly both heads were turned to the door, listening for more noises. One of the kids must've woken up, maybe their voices were too loud.

"Any guesses?" Din asked his wife, once again burying his face in her hair. "My gut tells me it's your mini-version," she suapected, turning her head to kiss him gently. "Your gut? Or your Jedi magic?"

Din rose from the bed, stretching his muscles in the morning sun, stared at by his better half. "And you say I'm insatiable." A sly grin appeared on his lips as he put on a shirt, his shoulders and bicep stretching the fabric just enough to make her hum. "The faster you check on the troublemakers the sooner you can come back to bed. Hurry, I'm not done with you."

She didn't have to tell him twice.

Translations:

mesh'la - beautiful

cyar'ika - darling

di'kut - idiot

gar di'kut - your idiot

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sharkneto · 4 months ago

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hi!!!! I was rereading the shifting mirrors and holding it together since you finished joining together recently (it’s SO good, it’s so so SO good, your writing is always so well done and flows so well) and I had a couple questions. Sorry if this is weird - if you don’t want to answer them feel free to ignore this ask, I’m just curious!

1.) did you start writing joining together while you were still posting holding it together? a lot of the details I noticed in HIT were referenced in JT, and I was just kind of like ‘that’s a LOT of details to remember’ so I was wondering if you were working backwards !!

2.) have you ever thought about what happens at the end of HIT? do you think they would actually end up stopping the apocalypse, or would the commission try to come and correct them? I thought that was interesting - that the commission said they were done with five, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re done with the offshoot timeline ; if they hadn’t interfered prior, that would mean they were still on track for an apocalypse, right ? I like to speculate about this. with sheer strength of will I think that five would probably end up stopping it, mostly because he knows how to work through his rage rather than act on impulse again - and now he has the knowledge to try and connect the others so that viktor doesn’t feel so isolated.

3.) what was your favorite part of writing the story / what kept you motivated to keep it going ? I’ve started a couple chaptered fics, and then I get three or four chapters in and lose it completely.

I love, love, love the world youve created - I love the characters youve built and the personalities behind them. the dedication youve held on to to keep the series going is admirable; I can barely write 20k, much less hundreds of thousands of words. I was actually thinking of asking your permission to maybe write an offshoot of your offshoot (it might be the thing that gets me back into writing for tua) but idk if I’d have the imagination or creativity to make it nearly as compelling and fun as yours. Congratulations and great work on finishing it !! <333

this got long - feel free to ignore it if it’s overstepping or weird, lol !! I hope you’re doing well - have a great night, shark :)

Hey Toby! Glad you enjoyed it all so much and thanks for the kind words! It's a little surreal to have it done, JT has been a WIP almost as long as I've been into TUA.

I started writing JT before HIT. This whole series was supposed to be a Just For Me Fun Project while I rotted alone during the pandemic that I ended up sharing with permission from orsumfenix and encouragement from friends. I was a bit into JT, I think, when I started thinking about how fun it would be to get more siblings in here, and those musing became HIT. HIT got posted first because it had a lower barrier for entry, with more focus on the Hargreeves we know instead of OCs. So, because the stories were written more-or-less simultaneously, it was easy to reference one or set up something for the other. Working forwards and backwards, with the end of JT already written (in a rough draft) when I was writing HIT, so I knew where Rob, Sarah, and Number were coming off of at that point. (The tiny detail I'm most fond of is Allison in HIT noting that Number broke his nose at some point, and then in JT we get to see the stupid scenario in which he broke his nose.)

(rest under a readmore because I ramble)

I do have thoughts on what happens after HIT! More of a time jump, to Number's Apocalypse Week, and I've got words in a WIP started about that (and a few snips shared in my snip tag, although some I think I've changed some of the details, now). It goes... less smoothly than it should, for a guy who has (almost) all the details he needs. If motivation continues, I'll share that eventually. If it doesn't, I'll word-vomit an outline so at least people who are interested can know how it goes down. I don't see the Commission coming back - the people obsessed with Five are dead, and the organization is done with him. They don't have the resources to spare to keep going after him, so at least in Five and Number's timelines, they're out of the Commission's scope.

What kept me going was a combo of things. 2020-2022ish, I had a fuckton of time. I only worked three days a week because of covid protocols, I couldn't go anywhere because of covid, and I couldn't see anyone because of covid. I had four days a week to fill, and a lot of that time got filled with writing - all of HIT and the first draft of JT happened during this time, plus all the other fics I published throughout that time. What kept me going is that I was having a ton of fun writing and fun interacting with other people about my fics. Love, love, love talking about them (so never apologize for an ask like this, every fic writer is begging for an excuse to ramble like this). I liked thinking about the characters, thinking about Number doing mundane things I was doing made them more interesting, I liked thinking about Rob and Sarah's little romcom life, and I'm fascinated by Five's whole deal. My favorite part of writing these is Five (both versions of him) - thinking about him and how he'd react to x or y, how others react to him. I love that, at his core, he's kind of a loser. I love what an incredible vehicle for grief he is. He's a character of all time for me.

How to keep going, I don't have an easy answer for it. Some people outline, so they have the skeleton of what they're doing and where they're going. I'm not one of those people, I have an idea of the general shape and trajectory of the story and go from there, splitting up chapters as needed. I think it's important to not force it, or the writer's block gets worse and then you're stressed about writing instead of having fun with it, and that's no good - the point is to have fun. If you run out of steam, you run out of steam and you have to take a six-month hiatus until life calms down and you have words again (as a hypothetical example). Don't be afraid to poke at other ideas even if you have a giant fic unfinished. For having 25 fics on AO3, I have 35 other WIP files on my computer. Some of them have a couple hundred words, some have tens of thousands of words, some of them I'll come back to finish, some of them I won't. Such is life - some ideas have legs, others don't. I don't set out thinking "Oh this fic is going to be 50k words with 10 chapters". I just write until it feels done; sometimes that's 2k words, sometimes it's almost 200k words. The point I'm trying to make, here, is that we're all just fucking around having fun, and words flow easier when I'm remembering that and not stressing about being done or trying to finish for a self-imposed deadline. You've got it :)

Feel free to write in my little world! Would love to see what others are thinking about, what stuck with them. Just give me (and orsumfenix, if you use Number) a shoutout if you share it! And don't sell yourself short - I'm sure you've got great ideas and the chops to write them out. Don't compare yourself to me; you might write in a world I helped shape, but you've got your own voice and style to give it. I, for one (if you end up writing and sharing it), would love to hear your version of it all :)

#thanks again for the fun ask and nice words #if you want more writing advice around writer's block and don't mind scrolling i think you can find some in my 'ask response' tag #i did a half-hearted search for it but my blog is too big and i talk too much for it to be easy to find #if you scroll my ''writing'' tag i think i have stuff on writers block in there too #but the only way to get better at writing is to do more of it #in my four years of writing i've grown a lot - you can see it really plainly between my first fic posted to the last chapter of JT #hell just between HIT and JT there's a noticeable step up in writing ability #a rough draft is better than no draft and then you can edit and rewrite until it's shaped how you want it #just enjoy the ride and see where it takes you #nice things #ask response #long post

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littleststarfighter · 1 year ago

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You don't have to answer this at all, just wanted to give some perspective/info from someone who's been doing illustration commissions for about 15 years: in my opinion, it's always better to work backwards from an hourly rate rather than doing value-based pricing.

When working with private individuals as clients, US$30-50/hr is pretty standard for custom freelance stuff depending on experience, but since you're new to commissions I'd recommend offering a discount for the first few slots (both to get things moving, and also to give yourself lower-stakes "training" until you get used to the process—sometimes your workflow will change in ways you didn't expect under the conditions).

Personally, I prefer to offer a fixed quote based on my hourly rate, because that gets any kind of sticker shock out of the way. I estimate the amount of time it'll take me, add ~10% as a buffer, and apply my hourly rate. The fixed quote also gives me a little freedom not to stress out if it's taking more or less time than anticipated; I just make a note for my next quote and adjust accordingly.

The hourly rate might seem high to you, as it often does to people who are used to more traditional salary structures. But keep in mind that as a freelancer, you're also your own admin support: you don't bill for time spent emailing, researching, invoicing, etc. Tax can also get a bit complicated if you start doing a lot of freelance work.

My own base (non-commercial) rate is US$60/hr, because I've been doing this for a very long time. Frankly, the reason I have a lot of long-term repeat clients who pay my rate is because I communicate well and deliver on time. I set out a timeline up front with scheduled check-ins at various stages, and then I stick to that timeline no matter what. As someone who's also hired many freelance artists in the past, I know that reliability will win over genius every single time.

Speaking of timelines, ALWAYS be specific about the number and scope of revisions you offer. Depending on the project, I might phrase it as "2 rounds of revisions, with up to 1 hour of work per round" or similar. I bill anything beyond that scope at a higher hourly rate, usually about US$90/hr, billed by the half-hour. This also gives you leverage to say "Sure, I can add a whole new character and completely change the background; that will take about X hours which will put us into hourly billing territory at X rate." Either they'll back down or you'll be well compensated for the trouble, and most importantly (from a client services perspective) you've not told them no, you've given them options and reminded them what they've already agreed to.

In terms of payment plans, I normally require 50% up front (non-refundable) and 50% on final delivery. Since you haven't yet built up a rep as a commission artist, I recommend a lower up-front rate (maybe 20-30%). I do strongly advise getting SOMETHING up front to lock clients in and make sure they can't completely ditch if something happens. Plus, refusing to pay a small deposit is a major red flag.

I offer a 5% discount for complete payment up front, because it's honestly worth that 5% just to not have to deal with chasing people down and sending invoice reminders and whatnot.

I'm sorry to hear you've been going through such a tough time, and I hope this was helpful and not too overwhelming; it's just stuff I wish someone had told me when I was first starting out, and I think it's important for working artists to share info about business practices. I wasn't strict about a lot of things back then (like number of revisions), and it always ended up coming back to bite me. It might seem counter-intuitive, but I promise that thinking through and setting a lot of rules/boundaries up front will save you a lot of stress and trouble in the end.

I seriously want to thank you for this. It's incredibly informative not just for me but I'm sure other start out artists too. You've gone over things that I'd have no idea to do, thank you.

I'm certainly looking into how to pay tax as being in the UK I've never had to work that out before as we have it done for us in most jobs. So that would have been something I'd have forgotten about and it's not something you want to miss. I definitely have to time myself working as I don't know how long I take as I've never thought about that either. I just know I'm slow. It's interesting to see what you'd charge hourly as I see a lot of fan commissions having a low fixed rate depending on what you offer. So definitely have to look whether to offer that or like you suggest a more freelance rate of pay. I'll admit US$30-50/hr made me gasp but that's because I'm used to working for UK minimum wage (roughly $13 a hr) so that seems a lot to me. Gives me something to think about. Though I worry about pricing people out to begin with what with being quite slow and a nobody. And yes! Never forget about getting a deposit. I learnt that the bad way decades ago when I did try to do a commission and was never paid. That's what made me nervous to even begin as I can be a pushover. So need to be more strict in what I can offer and of course revise too.

Seriously thank you this is so helpful. Like you say there's so much people don't share about getting into freelance and commission work. Getting that step up, even if it's me doing it, is something I've no idea how to even start on. I get people saying why aren't you working in art? But my answer is always 'how?' It's something no one's told me about. How to sell yourself and your work. Even commission work confused me. So please don't worry this is beyond helpful and I'm very grateful for you taking your time to help me. It's been a very rough few months but I'm trying to stay positive. This may help me while I find work. Much love, Lucy 💖

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asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog · 8 months ago

Text

Asleep In The Keep: A DP x BNHA fic

Summary: Aizawa warns Danny

Word count: 2984

Chapter 25: Somewhere in these lies...(I’m on Your Side)

The meeting lasted less than an hour thanks to Endeavor’s outburst. It wasn’t hard to guess what the hero was planning to do, Shouta just hopes the Commission distracts him long enough to warn Phantom.

He wasn’t safe, not for long. Shouta didn’t believe in any god or divine presence, but he prayed that Phantom hadn’t left the cafe yet. They knew where he lived, the commission could’ve set up a trap for him. That image couldn’t get out of his head. A shack. Phantom had been living in a shack this whole time, and before that it was a warehouse. Concern overwhelmed Shouta thinking of what the boy must’ve been through. The meeting, although stressful, could help Shouta help Phantom.

He didn’t have enough time to inform Principal Nezu of what happened, his legs moving him towards the cafe. The street was too crowded so he ran across the rooftops, not an uncommon sight so close by the Hero Commission headquarters.

Far faster than it took to get him there, he was back at the cafe. The windows were still covered so he wasn’t able to see if the boy was still there. As if on cue the door opened up to reveal a lanky teenager wearing a lot of hero merch. The Fat-Gum hoodie was zipped up and he hid most of his face under a mask with teeth and a cap. It was probably Phantom, common sense told Shouta that it was, but the boy had the habit of becoming unrecognizable.

The teen spotted Shouta and waved, already moving to get closer. Shouta eyed the hoodie again connecting two dots. That’s ironic…

“We have to talk.”

★

When someone starts a conversation with, ‘we have to talk,’ that’s not usually a good sign. He felt his face deflate.

“Is it about earlier?” Danny felt bad about lashing out at the man, especially after he helped him twice. He just wasn’t ready to let someone in, or at least wasn’t expecting it. The man seemed so worried about Danny. The last time that happened was when Danny literally died. “I’m sorry about that, I was being dramatic.” he waved at something non-existent.

“No, it’s not about that, and if it were you would have nothing to apologize for. I overstepped.” The man raised a hand and shook his head. He seemed very nice just from the few interactions they had. Danny could feel a lump at the back of his throat wanting to tell him everything.

Danny still didn’t know his name and so in his head had started calling him ‘Ma’. It was short for ‘mummy’ and he worried like a mom.

“So if it’s not that, what's this about?” It hadn't been long since the two of them last saw each other so he can’t imagine a lot happening to Ma’ in that time. It could always be that he changed his mind about Danny or turned him into the heroes, but that wouldn’t make sense since why would he be here and not a hero.

“We should talk somewhere quiet,” Ma’s eyes didn’t meet his. Alarm bells ran in his head. Adults always wanted something. Danny wanted to trust him, but he’s been here before. A sneaky thought went across his mind. Danny would follow him, not because he fully trusted him, but trusted his own strength. He could use this as a test. If the man did anything, Danny would no longer entertain it. If not, well, Danny might have to learn to open up.

Danny nodded at the man and the two started walking. They weren’t in sync, Danny walking a little bit behind him and Ma’ looking back. He seemed paranoid, like Danny was gonna disappear. That was understandable. Despite agreeing to it, it took a lot of resolve not to float away. He didn’t want to be hurt, he wouldn’t let himself get hurt.

It was almost awkward between them as they walked. Danny didn’t mind too much since it seemed like Ma’ was the quiet type. He looked back at him with a quirky eyebrow.

“How long have you been working?”

“Uhh,” Danny had to think for a minute. He got hired that morning and started work immediately. “Probably around 12 hours?” Danny shrugged. It wasn’t that he could get tired now, and the thermos was able to give him an extra perk in his step.

Ma’ looked disappointed, but it wasn’t towards Danny, more towards the cafe.

“Remind me to give an earful to Mr. Tanaka later.”

“You know him?”

“Of course, I’ve been going there for years. One of my acquaintances worked here for a little while before he became a pro-hero.” Danny's mood soured even more at the mention of heroes. It was hard to have a good impression of them if every time he met one they attacked him. You’d think they’d be more understanding since he’s been helping them and he hasn’t even done anything yet. Danny just hummed in response to Ma’.

“What’s wrong?” Ma’ looked back at Danny, able to catch his change in mood.

“Nothing, just not a big fan of heroes.” Danny shrugged. Ma’s eyebrow twitched slightly but he only nodded in response.

“I see.” He started walking a little slower and Danny caught up with him, their steps now in sync. Ma’ just looked at him then didn’t say anything else.

“So what do you do? Got a job or anything?” He didn't know a lot about the man in front of him so now was a good time to learn.

“I have two jobs but mainly work as a teacher.” There was a hint of pride when he said teacher. That’s good. Danny liked teachers. Mr. Lancer was one of the only adults that cared about Danny in Amity.

“What grades do you teach?” He had the vibe that he deals with a lot of teenagers.

“My current class are first years, so I’ll move up with them as they progress.”

Did that mean freshmen? That’s around Deku’s age. How crazy would it be if Ma’ was his teacher. Danny laughed to himself just imagining them being in the same room with each other. They both had very different energies.

“Do you like your students?”

“I do. They’re very bright and full of potential. One student in particular however is a handful. He’s smart but he keeps getting himself hurt when he doesn’t have too.”

“Sounds like he gets in a lot of fights.” Danny mused. He’s pretty sure Mr. Lancer would say the same thing about him. Before the accident, Danny used to be a good student. His grades weren’t anything to write home about, especially when compared to Jazz, but he was able to get by. Science and chemistry being his best and favorite. It was hard not to have an affinity to the subjects with his parents. They did not know what was age appropriate to teach, so would carry him down to the lab and give him little projects to do. Said projects had a habit of exploding in his face. That was how he got his first few scars.

“He does.” Ma’ looked stressed just talking about it. Danny laughed again, they both relaxed around the other.

Somewhere during their walk they ended up on a rooftop overlooking the city. If he wanted privacy this was certainly the spot for it. Ma’ walked closer to the ledge, trusting Danny would follow. He peered across the skyline, looking for something.

“That alley,” he pointed to an alley a few streets down, “is where you fought those heroes.” Ice settled into Danny's veins, his core already shaking.

“How did you know about that?” Danny looked down at the man, he was only an inch shorter than him, but at this moment he felt small.

“The Commission is looking for you. They have a hoard of researchers down there collecting samples.”

Danny stepped back, he was getting dizzy. Was he talking about the stray ectoplasm? He thought he had sucked all of it. The portal! It was leaking, but it shouldn’t be this bad yet. It took over a week for that amount to spill out, it should only be a few drops by now. Was it unstable? Did Danny do something to it? Oh, it’s starting to open. Panic and glee all wrapped up into one pounded in Danny’s hollow chest, summarized in one sentence. He could go home.

“What are you talking about? Commission?” Danny’s face scrunched like he had sucked a lemon. His mind was far off and he couldn’t get it back. So much was happening all at once he wanted to split in two. He could feel his body unraveling, his ghostly features raising to the surface. He wanted as Ma's eyes widened, but he didn’t react in any other way.

“They’re in charge of the heroes,” Ma’ looked stressed and hurt, like they were after him instead of Danny. He reached into one of his pockets and dug out a pack of gum, he pulled out two sticks, one for him and the other for Danny. Danny shook his head knowing it would just dissolve. Instead he grabbed his thermos and took a swig like how a stressed out sailor takes a swig from a flask.

“They’ve been looking for you ever since the Hosu Attacks, when you took down those Nomus.” Is that what those things are called? “Phantom, I need you to listen to me,” his tone suddenly became more serious and he turned to face him, his eye contact was intense, “They have some way to track you, they know where you live.”

It was just like with the GIW. They stalked every alleyway, every corner trying to find traces of him. Fortunately in Amity, there was enough ambient ectoplasm to mask his signature. Here, while there is some level of radiation, it is too low to be able to do much of anything. But how was this world able to find that out so quickly?

Ectoplasm itself is in every dimension, leaking from the Infinite Realms to ensure its connection. Other worlds usually have different names for it; spiritual energy, mana, or even Lazarus water being the most common. If a dimension didn’t have some form of ectoplasm, it wasn’t connected to the Infinite Realms.

Here, although there was ectoplasm in the air, it didn’t seem like they tried to harness it yet. Maybe there was something that Danny was missing.

“That’s not all,” Ma’ reached a hand inside of his jumpsuit and pulled out a folder, “This is a file on the #2 hero, Endeavor. His quirk, his gear, his strengths. He’s after you too.”

“Wait, did you just have that on you? Why?”

“I don’t like the man.” That was as good a reason as any. “He’s strong, he’s the #2 hero for a reason, and he isn’t known for being nice.”

Danny took the folder and started flipping through it. The man was large and had an angry look on his face underneath the flames. His quirk was some type of flame power called Hellflame. He would either be really difficult or really easy depending on if Danny’s ice was colder than he was hot.

“I can protect you from him, from the heroes and Commission, but you have to trust me.” He grabbed another thing from a pocket, and handed it to Danny. It was a blank business card with an address and phone number scribbled in pen. He looked back up at the man, his eyes sad, “They know where you live Phantom, you’re not safe. You could stay with me and my husband until I can get it figured out. It’s not perfect but you would be safe.” He stressed the word trying to convince Danny.

Danny was turning it over in his head. He had been running for so long, even before he came into this world. He was so tired. Tired of being hunted, tired of being dead, tired of not having a place to belong. If he went with Ma’, he couldn’t stop all that, but at least he would stop running. The man acted like he really cared for Danny, and he was able to feel the concern radiate off him in warm waves.

Danny’s fingers knotted his hair as he stared at the card, tracing every line with his eyes. He looked back up at the man and signed. Maybe it was time to let someone in.

A thought stabbed into his skull like a thorn bush. How did he know all this? This information was obviously not available to the public, so how did this random guy know about it?

“How do you know about this?” Danny asked with a shaky voice, dread filling his body like smoke.

“What?” His eyes widened only a little and his jaw hung loose.

“I said, how do you know about this,” the words poured out his mouth as a hiss, cutting into the man before him. He just looked away.

“I know,” he paused, “because they told me.” He looked ashamed.

“Are you working with them?” Danny stepped back in shock and betrayal.

“Not exactly,” he tried to step closer to Danny but he reflexively put his arms up. Ma’ stepped back, hurt in his eyes. Danny didn’t care. “I don’t agree with what they’re doing or trying to do. I want to help you.”

“Is that why you were nice to me? To get me to trust you? To make me feel like someone actually cares about me? I should’ve known,” Danny gripped his hair tighter, he could feel the air around him grow cold, “Adults always want something.”

“I do care about you! I want you to be safe! I can protect you, please,” he looked stressed, “I know you don’t trust heroes, but you can trust me.” He was practically begging.

Hero. He’s a hero. Of course he is. Danny smacked his forehead. God, he couldn’t get away from them.

“Now it makes sense!” Danny laughed, it was a hollow frantic sound, “You all have been after me since I came here! I’m not a threat to you! What will make you understand that?!” Danny yelled at the man as if he was the cause of all his problems, and in a way he was. He was a part of the group that cornered him and punched his head off last night. Danny could picture him standing in the background doing nothing.

“I know that,” Ma’ tried to soothe him but Danny toned him out, “You’ve been trying to save people since you escaped, you’re nothing like him. Please, let me help you. You’ve been through so much.” he reached his hands out awkwardly. It was like he was reaching for Danny, either to hug or restrain him.

Anger rose up in Danny’s throat, hot and dry like smoke. “You don’t know me! You will never know me!” Danny's eyes were getting blurry, but he blinked it away and snow fell around him. “All my life I’ve been controlled by people who think they know me or what's good for me! I’m finally in control of myself for the first time, and you don’t get to take that away!”

“I’m not trying to control you, I’m trying to protect you.” Ma’s voice was quiet, like how someone would talk to a child. Danny wasn’t a child anymore and he had not been one for a long time.

“That's what they said.” Danny stopped talking for a moment and quiet filled the air between them. Ma’ still looked awkward, his hands closer to his chest this time to stop them from reaching out, “You lied to me…” Danny finally said, like a kid who was hurt for the first time.

“No, I didn’t.” Danny looked up at Ma’ and he had a wet look in his eyes.

“You lied by omission. Some say that's worse.”

“I had too, you wouldn’t have trusted me if I said I was a hero.” He stepped closer to Danny but didn’t make any other movement.

“You’re right. I don’t trust you.” It was firm and spoken with defeat, “Not now anyway…”

“Phantom-” he reached his arms out again.

“No!” Danny sliced the air in front of him, creating a line in between them, “You don’t get to call me that.” He shook his finger at him, “You don’t get to call me by my name. It’s Tommy to you,” Danny sighed again, cold air blowing out, “forget you ever met Phantom…”

Danny faded away before the man could get a chance to speak. He watched him invisibly from above the building. The man hung his head low, elbows leaning against the top of the wall. His hands rubbed his face and eyes. He looked so old in that moment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flip phone, it was black with a cat keychain.

“Hey Hizashi,” He breathed into the phone.

“Hey honey, what's wrong?” A man’s voice answered on the other line, concern in his voice.

“I just wanted to hear your voice…” Ma’ looked out onto the city, his eyes miles away. The sun was starting to set, casting the city half in shadow. The light reelected in Ma’s eyes and highlighted the wet corners. They were red.

Danny couldn’t watch any more of this and flew away.

★End★

A closing quote for the vibe: I am not your pet. I don't care about you. I won’t wait for you. I bite.

#danny phantom #dp #danny fenton #dp crossover #dp fic #dp x bnha #dp cross #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #aizawa #aizawa shouta #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa

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