#like good for whoever gets number one but end result is they still sold a bunch of albums

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

.

[ozzgin]

Request/Idea-

Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)

Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭

Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)

P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible

-👘

Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.

In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!

Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons

Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.

Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior

Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.

Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.

If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.

“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.

The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.

Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.

Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.

He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.

[talatomaz]

beautiful | diana prince x fem!reader

a/n: happy new year !! this takes place during 1984 but before the actual plot of the movie happens. this is really long so sorry in advance

warnings: mentions of attempted assault. sexual references

word count: 3.4k

masterlist | request list | request rules

reader is a woc and works at the smithsonian as an antiques realtor. after they receive several artefacts specific to ancient mediterranean culture, she enlists the help of diana prince, a senior anthropologist. reader works closely with her and finds herself starting to develop feelings for her and one day, she’s saved by a mysterious female heroine and figures out diana is not all she claimed to be

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Thank you.”

You smiled to the delivery boy as you showed him where to place the fragile artefacts the museum had just received. It was your job to evaluate whether they were of any value, and if so, whether it was more prudent for them to be sold to someone else or put on display for people to visit.

The moment you were left alone, you’d opened the smallest box in order to determine where these artefacts were from, more specifically, when. You picked up, what appeared to be, a device of some sorts, fit with several random gears. Evaluating the rust and corrosion, you noted on your clipboard that this may have been a Cypriot artefact from the early Bronze Age.

As you made your way through the other boxes, you were about a quarter of the way through when you noticed that all of these antiquities appeared to originate from the Mediterranean. And you knew the perfect person to help explain more about their culture to you.

You gently placed the artefact you were currently examining back in its respective box, locked your office door and made your way to the senior anthropologist who was an expert on the culture.

Lifting a closed fist, you lightly knocked on the door and waited patiently for the door to open, smiling at the person who stood in the door frame when it did.

“Afternoon Miss Prince, are you free for a quick chat?”

You didn’t know Diana Prince all that well, having only interacted on a number of occasions but each time you had, she was incredibly kind and friendly. She had been at the museum longer than you had and was one of the first people to introduce themselves to you and make you feel welcome.

Honestly, there wasn’t much that you knew about her.

She was an enigma.

In the broadest of terms, that was.

By definition, an enigma is someone who is mysterious and difficult to understand.

Now, whilst the brunette was definitely mysterious, she was, by no means, difficult to understand.

One look in her eyes and you immediately saw her for all that she was.

She may not have said more than 5 words to you, but her eyes told you a story. Someone who had gone through immense hurt but remained kind and bright, even in the darkest of times.

Her eyes were beautiful, as was the rest of her. Though that did seem like an oversimplification. She was a goddess, as if sculpted by the Gods themselves - how true that was, you didn’t know yet - and despite that, she never seemed to let her beauty be her one overriding factor. She was extremely smart and intelligent and so much more. Which was why you enlisted her help.

“Of course. Please take a seat.” She said, smiling when you did. “So, how can I help you, Miss L/N?”

“Please, call me y/n. Miss L/N makes me sound like my mother.” You joked.

“Well, then please call me Diana.” She replied in her accent that you couldn’t quite distinguish.

You nodded, “So I’ve just recently come into possession of some ancient artefacts. As you know, I’m required to estimate their value and decide what the museum should do with them. However, it seems that the artefacts I’ve currently examined, all appear to be specific to Mediterranean culture. Now considering you’re our resident expert on that, I figured-”

“That I could come and help you determine it’s authenticity and explain more about them.” Diana finished.

“Exactly. But if you’re too busy, I compl-”

“No, it’s okay.” She interrupted quickly. Clearing her throat, she continued, “I’d be happy to help. I’m glad you came to me, y/n.”

Your lips curved in a smile as you fought to keep the blush that would have certainly risen to your cheeks.

“Shall we?” You asked, standing up, about to head back to your office.

“Lead the way.”

***

For the next month or so, you found yourself working quite closely with the anthropologist, the Smithsonian board having told you both that they wanted you to help create a display for the artefacts to be put on show for the community. Though that meant more work for you, you were secretly grateful because, truth be told, you found yourself developing feelings for the brunette. But you never said a word, knowing she wouldn’t feel the same about you.

You were working late one night, about to leave, before you noticed the light that was on in one of the hallways. Apart from you, you knew that the only person who’d ever stay this late at the museum was Diana. Her, seemingly more committed to her job than you once realised.

Knocking on the door, you waited until you heard a quiet “come in” before entering the office room.

Neatly placed around the room were several boxes, more than likely filled with paperwork and published papers. Her navy leather sofa sat at the far end of the room with a coat draped over one of the arm rests. In front of you, was Diana’s desk. It was as tidy as the rest of the room, papers orderly placed at the ends of the desk, a small lamp placed at the corner and a computer which Diana had been typing on.

Her face softened into a smile when she saw you and she sat up against her chair.

“Hey, y/n. What’s up?”

“Not much. I was just about to head home but since I saw your light on, I figured I’d come by and say goodnight.”

“That’s sweet. Since you’re here, why don’t I walk you out? I was planning on going home myself.”

“Sounds good.”

She grabbed her coat from the sofa and put it on. After locking her door, she walked beside you towards the entrance of the museum.

“You know, it’s a beautiful night and it’s not that late either, why don’t we get dinner?”

You stopped in your path for a brief moment before continuing to walk.

She was asking you to dinner.

Holy shit.

You knew it wasn’t a date since you had had several dinners together whilst working at the artefacts.

But the idea that it could have been still excited you.

And terrified you.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

You had eaten at this cute restaurant, sitting outdoors so you could both bask in the stars. You’d fallen into easy conversation with the brunette, never experiencing any awkwardness or uncomfortable silences. You talked about nothing and everything; every time you made her laugh, you couldn’t help but smile yourself because her laughter was genuine and brought warmth to you.

“I’ve enjoyed tonight, Diana.”

“Me too. I know you don’t get out much so I figured you deserved a break.”

“Hey! What do you mean ‘I don’t get out much’?” You said, feigning being offended while truthfully, you were failing to hide a laugh.

“I’m not judging. Just...making an observation.” Diana laughed.

“Hmm sure. Well, how about you? Are you out often?”

“No, not really.”

“Wow. Now look who’s not a social butterfly.” You joked.

“Yep, we’re just two peas in a pod, huh y/n?” Diana said, smirking when she saw a light blush of red on your cheeks.

***

After that night, you found yourself regularly going out to dinner with Diana and it was getting harder to hide how you felt.

Sometimes, you had a sliver of hope that she felt the same way because she would make excuses to touch you, whether it be gently brushing her hand against yours or stroking her hand against your arm.

But you immediately quelled those thoughts. There was no way someone as beautiful, sweet and smart as Diana would like you.

Shaking your head, as if to rid the thoughts from your mind once more, you walked through the alley that was a shortcut to your apartment.

Abruptly, you felt yourself pushed up against the brick wall, a knife against your throat. You fought the urge to scream, knowing any movement with the sharp blade that close to you would certainly result in bleeding.

“Good girl. Be quiet and don’t scream. Otherwise the next piece of trash left in this alley will be you.”

The moon allowed for you to get a better look at the man holding himself against you. You only saw his face, however, his mouth curved into a creepy smile, reminiscent of Dr Seuss’ The Grinch.

“You are a pretty one, aren’t you?” Even his voice felt slimy, bringing a look of disgust on your face.

“Fuck off.” You said, showing no fear. Oddly, you found yourself feeling calm. Some people may fight and others may flee. But of course, you taunt and curse.

“Oh, you’re going to be fun.”

You readied yourself for anything that may happen, waiting for the opportunity where the blade’s pressure would lighten, allowing you to kick this guy and run away.

But before you could, you felt all pressure against you immediately leave. Looking up, you caught a glimpse of a woman in armour pulling the man off you with, what appeared to be, a glowing yellow rope. The man still held within the rope, she jumped up on the roof and disappeared.

But not before the moonlight had provided some clarity as to who this mysterious figure was.

It was her eyes.

You had difficulty sleeping that night. It was not the attempted assault that had kept you up though, it was the woman who had saved you. You recognised her eyes but the more you thought about it, the more perplexed you became. There was no way Diana was whoever this woman was. But it was her eyes.

This back and forth continued til sunrise when you finally decided to push it from your mind. Yes, her eyes may have been familiar but you hadn’t seen her face nor heard her voice. And if, and when you did, you would then make an assumption as to who she was.

***

“Morning, y/n.”

You looked up to see Diana standing outside your office door, dressed in a simple pantsuit that she somehow made look glamorous.

“Morning, Diana.”

“How are you? Are you okay?”

You carefully noted the thinly veiled concern in her tone before answering.

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, brow raised in question.

“No reason. Just wondering.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve just been finalising some things for the display tonight.”

Time had flown by and you were disheartened when you realised it meant the two of you wouldn’t be seeing each other as often; the two of you would go back to your own lives and separate work.

“Y/N?”

You blinked, having been broken from your thoughts when you saw real concern on her face.

“Yeah?”

“You went a bit dazed there for a moment. Are you sure you’re okay?” Her head tilted in question, her hand lifting to gently caress your arm.

“Yeah, sorry. Come on, let’s finish off this display.”

You had trouble focusing whilst you worked, eyes constantly glancing over at Diana, your mind wondering. You knew that even if she was who you thought she was, it had no effect on how you felt about her. She was still the same Diana that you knew.

Just...more badass than you’d first thought.

The two of you left the museum early evening so you could get ready for the gala the Smithsonian was putting on to show off their new Mediterranean display.

Whilst you had put quite a few antiques up for sale to various buyers and other museums, the large majority of them you had advised the board to keep; explaining how, in the long run, it’d prove more valuable.

You got dressed in a black dress that was hemmed below your knees, a low but classy ‘v’ cut shaped plunged neckline to reveal a small diamond necklace that matched with your earrings. You rarely wore makeup but tonight was an exception so your lips were painted a deep red that complemented your tanned skin and your hair was left free, light curls bouncing against your back.

Once you had arrived back at the Smithsonian, you made your way to your boss and the rest of the board who complimented yours and Diana’s work.

You looked around, wondering where the latter was.

As if summoned by sheer thought alone, Diana appeared beside you; her appearance leaving your throat dry. She was dressed in a long navy dress, a long slit in the side showing off her toned legs. She wore a gold bracelet around her wrist, her lips painted bright red, her curly hair surrounding her face.

“You look stunning, Diana.”

“Thank you. You look beautiful too.” Her smile reaching her eyes.

The next couple of hours were spent rotating around the guests and several investors who commended the both of you on your work whilst simultaneously making sizeable donations to the museum.

Truth be told, you hated this part of the gala. You believed that people should appreciate the art rather than wanting to line up their own pockets. It was the main reason you often avoided company events such as these but since tonight was something you’d organised, you needed to be there.

You were currently speaking with an older male whom you knew was an avid investor. Diana had been pulled aside by another investor who wanted to know more about a certain piece of art.

As you engaged in a polite conversation with the man, you felt a shift in his tone as he became more untoward with you. His words were slurring slightly, having consumed several glasses of champagne, and he starting to make inappropriate advances by grabbing your hand or saying wildly unprofessional things.

“Mr Woodbury, I appreciate your interest in me but I do not feel the same way and I’d appreciate it if you could stop with the advances.” You explained as politely as you could when, in reality, you were trying to hide your anger.

“Darling, you’re a pretty little thing and I could give you the night of your life.” He leered at you, leaning closer towards you.

A strong hand pushed him back, “she said ‘no’”

There was no need to even face the person enunciating each word; you knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

“Miss Prince, we’re having a private conversation.”

Diana stood beside you, her body turned so she faced the both of you.

“I suggest you leave before I have you removed from the building. And if you ever bother y/n again, I promise you, you will regret it. And a promise is unbreakable.”

The male withered under her stare and slithered away from view. You glanced up at Diana, who towered over you, even more so in her heels, and saw the controlled fury in her eyes.

The way the light of the room shone on her face and illuminated her eyes forced yourself in the memory of the night of your attempted assault.

The realisation hit you like a train.

This was the confirmation that you needed.

It was her.

“Y/N?”

You stared into her eyes, unable to tear yourself from her.

“Y/N?” Diana repeated, resting her hand against your cheek. The warmth of her skin against yours brought you back to reality.

“Y-You. I-”

You stumbled over your words, unable to string any words together to form a coherent sentence.

“Come with me.”

Not waiting for a response, Diana took your hand in hers and led you back to her office. She closed the door, locking it behind her and switching on her lamp so the room wasn’t completely dark.

You stood in front of her, still unsure of what to say.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird all day. What’s wrong?” She asked, her concern evident in her tone.

“You’re her.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Her. The one who saved me last night.”

You watched as Diana’s eyes flickered with panic. It was only for a brief moment and you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t looking.

Her mouth opened as if ready to disprove any of your thoughts before closing it again when she saw the look on your face.

“How did you know?” She sighed.

“Your eyes.”

“I’m sorry?” She repeated.

“Your eyes. They were the same. Since the moment I met you, the first thing I noticed were your eyes. The way they sparkled with kindness but I could still see the hurt behind it. They’re beautiful.” Your voice faltered as you finished speaking.

“Um, that was inappropriate. I shouldn’t have said that. I-I’ll go.”

As you were about to walk out of her office, she moved to block the door.

“Don’t go.” Her accent came out strong.

“Diana, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Look, I appreciate you working with me these past couple of months. It’s been a great help. We can just forget this happened and just go back to our lives.” You suggested, walking back to the centre of the room.

“What if I don’t want to?”

Her words came out in a low whisper, the huskiness of her voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“W-what?” You swallowed dryly.

“I said, what if I don’t want to forget?” She repeated, walking closer to you whilst you unconsciously backed away slowly until stopping when your back hit her desk.

“I’ve loved spending time with you, y/n. You’ve become extremely important to me. And seeing that guy trying to hit on you earlier angered me because you’re not his. You’re mine.”

Your eyes widened. Though you’d never seen this side of Diana before, you were extremely turned on; a warmth spreading through you.

Diana continued, smiling at the noticeable effect she had on you.

“I know you feel the same way. I see the way you look at me and the way you blush when I catch you staring. You know me. The other me. You’re beautiful and I like you, y/n. A lot.”

You licked your lips and then lightly bit your bottom lip, once again speechless. Never in a million years did you think she’d like you back.

You decided words weren’t going to be enough and instead, you gathered your courage, the alcohol helping you in that respect, and closed the distance between you.

It was a light kiss, practically a peck, just to test the waters as they say but it still felt right.

You pulled away and leaned back against the desk. There was a look in her eye that you couldn’t quite distinguish but before you had any time to dwell on it, Diana instantly kissed you back, this time with more fervour.

She lifted you onto the desk as if you weighed nothing and with her strength, you probably didn’t. Her hands gripped the sides of your waist, steadying you, as you opened your legs wider so she could move between them.

Your arms wrapped around her neck pulling her deeper into you. She tugged your bottom lip between her teeth, not hard enough to make you wince but definitely enough to make you moan.

You felt her smirk against your lips as her hands moved upwards from bracketing your hips to the side of your breasts. She continued the motion before kissing you one final time and reluctantly pulled away.

Your breath came out in a pant, trying to get as much oxygen back into your lungs as possible.

“That was-”

“Amazing.” Diana finished.

You still sat atop of her desk, not having enough energy to move as of yet, and you were sure your legs wouldn’t be able to hold you up either after that heavy make out session.

Diana rested her hands against your waist once more before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek.

How she went from being so full of passion and heat to being so gentle and sweet, you’d never know. You had a feeling she was going to keep you on your toes.

“As much as I didn’t want to stop, we still have people to see. What do you say we talk to a few more guests and then we can go back to my place and finish what we started?”

Diana asked, stroking your cheek with her thumb as her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I’m never going to figure you out, am I?” You said light-heartedly, as you came to your feet.

Diana held your hand in hers and walked to the door,

“I don’t know. I’d say you know me pretty well already.”

[joneswibu]

JK MCD and creepy man Note: I can’t actually write and my grammar is suck may contain uncomfortable content

It was evening, Sasara and Samatoki promised to meeting up after school because they're from different school. They're going down town to take a walk together. On a quiet street suddenly *GRAB* A man riding in bicycle full speed, grabbed Sasara's butt. Sasara startled, It was quick but can't be unnoticeable.

Creepy man (Mobu) while ride his bike away on full speed: "Tch, i should've touched the white haired one, she's sexy. Well whatev, I'll get a better one tomorrow". Right after he mumbled, he noticed on his right, Samatoki running just as fast as him riding on his bike on full speed. With no time to react, Samatoki's fist already there on Mobu's face, resulting both him and his bicycle fall on to the aspalt.

Being shock from his fall, Mobu losing some of his consciousness. Samatoki And Sasara dragged him to nearest smal alley. They tied his hand, feet and cover up his mouth. And they start their action

Sasara: "Good Evening Sir~! Aren't you lucky having 2 high school girl playing with you?~" Mobu: "Mmmm!!!mmmm??!!?! Samatoki: "You son of a bitch, you really think your action don't have any consequence HUH?!" Sasara: “"Of course It's don't have any qonsequence as long as I CAN get away with it!"~ is it right sir? Here let me se your phone!

Sasara Pull out Mobu's cell phone from his shirt. She open it but they need password to open. Sasara: Sir~ can you open this for me?~ Mobu Looks pissed: Mm!!!!mmmm!! Sasara Came closer to him, and wishper: " You want my number don't you?" Mobu: ...... He Aggree to open up the phone, Samatoki watched the whole thing and said: "You actually fall for that?! Gross" 

Sasara: “Thank you sir~ “ She took quick glance into the cellphone then said: “Samatoki, I have something to do with this phone, could you please take care of Mr.Mobu?” Samatoki: “You know his name?” Sasara: “Written on his phone lol” Samatoki cracking her knuckle: “ahaha cool! i'll take a good care of him”

Sasara Walks out to to the alley corner. For a few minutes Samatoki didn't hold up any punches on Mobu's body, meanwhile Sasara still busy with Mobu's phone. Soon Sasara came back and stop Samatoki from broke another Mobu's bone. Sasara: “Allright! I finished! Let's head out Samatoki~” Samatoki: “Tch, can't you see I haven't fully finish him?” Mobu: *crying* “MMM!!!! MmmMMM!!!: Sasara: “Aww! Come on!~ It's getting dark soon! You don't want those cake for your Lil sis to be sold out, don't you?” Samatoki step away while shout: “Take THAT as a lesson you disgusting bastard!”

Sasara walk closer to meaten up Mobu, She put back his cellphone into his shirt pocket. Sasara: “Here's your phone sir! Now you know what you got when you're being a creep, right sir?~ DON'T DO THAT AGAIN ok?~” Sasara: “Oh yea, be carefull when you get home, I think your wife is veeery mad at you!” Mobu: “Mmmm!??” Sasara: “Also, I don't think you need to go to your office tomorrow, i think you're fired now hahahaha!” Mobu: Mmmm!!???! Mmmmm!!!???? Sasara: “Right! One last thing! This is my revenge from before” Sasara give a final blow full power kick on to Mobu's crotch and then she leave Sasara: “If you try to report it to police, good luck convincing them that you were beaten up by 2 high school girl! Bye!” They walk away, leaving Mobu alone at the Alley.

There was silence for a quite a while. Samatoki: “Sasara, u okay?” Sasara: “It wasn't a good experience, but yea, I'm good. Thanks for your help <3″ Samatoki: “Mhm, anyway what the hell are you doing with his phone?” Sasara: Ooh! I was--

(flashback) Sasara: “Good evening! Is this Mr Mobu's wife? Mhm! Why does a girl using your husband's phone? Well, listen here Mrs Mobu, Your husband  just aggreed to move and marry me. Yea, I don't care of he's having an affair, your husband is mine now lol “ Sasara: “*Hic* h- help... Whoever have this phone is kidjapping me *hic* I'm sorry I'm calling random number... Uh? It's his boss? Yes Mr MObu is kidnapping me *hic* I'm just a  high school girl, and he dragged me-- *hic* please help--”

(flashback end)

Sasara: “Well, something like that!” Samatoki's mouth open wide listening to it  and say: “Whoa there, i have no idea you're THAT sadistic” Sasara: “Shut it! Don't you forget you destroyed his nose lol” Samatoki: “Hahaha Bet I am, but you destroyed his whole life”

End

[miceenscene]

'tis the damn season

frankie/reader | childhood friends to lovers | pre-canon

wc: 1.8k/2.5k

summary: At one point in your lives, you knew Frankie better than anyone else on earth. When did that change?

warnings: none

an: don't let anyone tell you that second person doesn't work from another character's perspective, least of all yourself while editing

Masterpost | ao3

Chapter 2: Who am I Related to?

December 8, 2012 18:57

Hudson’s was a shitty bar just up highway 210 outside of Fort Bragg, the nearest watering hole to the base as the crow flies.

As a result, it served pretty damn near exclusively military personnel. When it changed ownership about four years back, the new management decided to reflect that and so the place looked like the Fourth of July and Top Gun had thrown up on it. Never mind that Fort Bragg was an Army base. Still, they had cheap booze and greasy food that was far better than the commissary, so it was always busy.

Pope had texted the usual suspects a few hours ago that he was heading to Hudson’s that evening, making Frankie immediately ditch his plans of drinking alone for drinking with Pope and whoever else showed up. Most likely just Benny and Ironhead now that Redfly had semi-retired down to Florida. It was a short drive to the bar from the dorms on base, but it was enough to make Frankie groan and press hands to his lower back as he got out of his car and made his way inside.

Pope was sitting at the bar and didn’t look up from texting on his phone as Frankie gingerly eased into the stool next to him.

“Hey, Fish,” Pope said, rereading the email.

“Hey.” At the bartender’s attention, Frankie pointed to Pope’s beer before daring a slight back stretch.

Pope sent his email and then looked over. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just finished PT.”

He chuckled once. “Back still fucked?”

“More tired than fucked anymore,” Frankie managed, shaking his head and wincing. The bartender delivered his beer, and Frankie took a swig. “When did we get old?”

“¿De qué estás hablando ‘nosotros’, viejo?”

Frankie jabbed an elbow and grinned slightly down at his next swig. “Culero.”

“Hey, before everyone gets here–” Pope looked at him, an oddly serious expression on his face for their usual bar. “I found out today you haven’t re-enlisted yet.”

Frankie immediately dropped his gaze to the suddenly very interesting glass in his hand. “Ah, no. No, I haven’t.”

“I’m trying to pull strings to get Benny into our unit full-time. I think he’d fit well with the team. Then Simmons tells me you haven’t signed your new papers yet. So what’s up?”

Frankie glanced over to see Pope still focused on him. “Nothing, nothing. I… I’m still thinking about it.”

He chuckled. “What’s there to think about?”

“We all want out someday, right? If we’re lucky enough to choose when we leave.”

“Yeah, but there’s thinking and thinking.” Pope smacked his shoulder. “What – are you gonna become a real estate agent like Redfly?”

No. Definitely not. Even just the idea of shilling condos was enough to make Frankie’s eyes glaze over. But still–

“Real estate agents make more money than we do.”

Pope made a considering face for a moment then brushed it off. “Yeah, but you’d miss it. You’re like me. We like the rush.”

Frankie nodded slightly. This is why he was still just thinking about it. It wasn’t a small thing to walk away from fourteen years with the Army. Especially since everyone knew the retirement benefits were absolute shit until you hit twenty. But he could already tell, he didn’t have another six years in him. He wasn’t even sure he had another deployment.

“You know the deadline’s New Year’s, right?” Pope said, cutting through his thoughts.

“Yeah, I know. I have some leave I have to take before the year’s out anyway.”

Pope nodded. “Good. Clear your head, get some perspective. See how fucking boring civvy life is, and then come back Jan 2 and join my team.”

Frankie smiled wryly; Pope always could make anything sound easy. “Something like that.”

“You have holiday plans then?” he asked, leaning an elbow on the bar.

Frankie sucked in breath. “I guess I’ll go back to my parents’. My mom’s been wanting me to visit for a while now.”

“How long’s it been?”

“I saw them in DC last summer, but I haven’t been back home… since I joined Delta.”

“Remind me where they’re at.”

“Up north. Little town in the middle of nowhere. Still in the same house I grew up in.” He could picture the wreath on the door, the twinkling lights his dad always strung across the front fence every December. A matching set used to be hung on the fence exactly opposite across the street. Who lived there now, he wondered. Would they put the tree in the front window too?

“Soldier coming home for Christmas. Sounds like a Hallmark movie.”

“Fuck you,” Frankie replied as the others finally arrived.

--

Frankie got his answer as he ducked out the front door of his parent’s house about a week later. His breath immediately fogged as he sucked in a few calming breaths of night air, the pressure in his head slowly levelling. Out in the still darkness, the noise level coming from the living room was finally manageable. Inside, with all of his cousins and his aunts and uncles and the music and everyone talking over each other and the heater set far too high for the number of people inside– he… he just needed a break.

Seven hours was a decent stint for his first day. He’d be around longer tomorrow. Wading in. That was the key. Because he was now the kind of person that had to treat time with his family like running a marathon. Apparently.

He walked down to the twinkling front fence, making a mental note to shovel the front walk tomorrow, and stopped. The house across the street – your house, as it would forever be in his mind – was completely dark. A small sign posted in the front yard announced some sort of home refurbishment company was going to be arriving soon. No doubt they would come in, strip away wallpaper and old tile and heart to paint it all beige and granite for the quick resell.

He hadn’t had the heart to ask his mother yet how long the house hadn’t belonged to your family. No need for another reminder of how much time had passed, how much he’d missed. He had more than enough already.

The front door opened behind him, casting a temporary warm glow across the dark snow, and his dad stepped out, pipe in hand. He meandered down the front steps to join Frankie at the gate, puffing a few times before speaking.

He shook his head. “It’d break his heart to see it so empty, but I understand why she sold,” he said, looking at the forlorn house with him.

“How long ago?” Frankie asked.

“Few months. Not too long after the funeral.” Dad looked his way for a moment. “I’ll give it ten minutes before I tell your mother you left.”

“I… thanks,” he replied weakly.

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back.”

Dad nodded slowly, leaving just the pipe smoke wafting between them for a minute. “Take it slow, no need to rush.”

“Thanks.” He stepped through the gate, fishing in his pocket for his car keys.

“Francisco,” he said, making Frankie stop and look at him. “We’re glad you’re back.”

Frankie just nodded and went to his car. Even though he couldn’t bear another minute in the noisy press of his loved ones, the idea of going back to his lonely hotel room was truly abysmal. So after some finagling with the ignition, he started the engine and headed to the one bar he’d ever been to in his hometown.

--

There were Christmas lights in the window and a dancing Santa on the bar as Frankie walked in. Some sort of forcibly cheery holiday classic played over the speakers tucked between quirky memorabilia that hung over every square inch of wall space. And even though public smoking had been outlawed by the state well over a decade ago, cigarette stench had sunk into the very foundation of the place.

It was nothing like Frankie remembered. But it would do.

Eyes automatically sweeping across the moderately busy room for a Thursday night, he headed for a stool at the far end of the bar, ordering a beer when the bartender came by. It was just one step up from swill, but comfortably numbing in its mediocrity. He looked across the room again, checking for familiar faces this time and finding none. No surprise there. A decade was a long time, and really he hadn’t been around too much for the years before that too.

There were couples on dates here, friend groups, some sort of girls’ night happening in the corner, a few loners like him hovering at the bar. Most everyone was smiling, talking, laughing so hard their whole bodies shook. A whole world of Normal. And Frankie was a tourist.

Pope was right. He couldn’t go back to this. He couldn’t make it through one whole day with blood relatives anymore. What was he thinking? That he could just settle into a normal life like the last decade of his work was nothing? Get a 9-to-5 and a mortgage and a girl – not that he’d ever had too much luck in that department. Especially when there was one girl that eclipsed all others, and he didn’t even know her phone number any more.

The door opened, making the Santa on the bar dance, and every thought in Frankie’s head immediately stopped. His eyes drew wide as he stared, jaw barely restrained from slapping against his chest. Was it really – course it was, there wasn’t anyone else it could be. A whole century could pass, and he’d still know that face.

It was you.

Live, in the flesh you. Cheeks pinked from the wind, haloed by the street lights outside, wrapped in a truly astonishing number of woolen layers. Not a half-remembered fantasy, but Real and breathing and even more beautiful than his memory had claimed.

He watched you shake a few flurries out of your hair and stomp the excess snow off your boots, shutting the door behind you as you waved to the bartender. Your gaze swung across the bar, completely skimming past him, and landed on the girls’ night in the corner. You smiled. He stared.

You began to head over to the people you were obviously here to meet. On nothing but pure instinct, he immediately got out of his stool and followed you. Falling into step behind you, he stretched a hand forward to hook a few fingers inside your elbow.

You looked back at him, and for a heart-breaking breath there was no recognition in your eyes.

Till he gave you a half-smile and said, “Hey Bo.”

You blinked, mouth dropping open. “Frankie?” you asked.

He nodded.

Your astonishment ballooned so wide it froze your whole face solid for a moment. Then you laughed, out of far more shock than amusement, and gave him a smile all his own. “Oh my god!! You’re here!”

You immediately wrapped him in a hug. And though it took him a moment to return it, for the first time in ten whole years, he was home.

Chapter 3: Not my Homeland Anymore

taglist: @kelenloth ; @darnitdraco ; @gracie7209 ; @616wilsons ; @icanbeyourjedi ; @astroboots ;

[pluviophile-bookworm]

HSMTMTS 2x8: the one I’ve been waiting for

Last week watching the new HSMTMTS was the last thing I did before going to bed (and let me tell you, I almost couldn’t sleep that night), but now I’m starting my day with it. I’m having trouble breathing just thinking about everything that could possibly lie ahead. I don’t think I’m ready, but I also can’t wait a second longer. So let’s dive right in!

Ahhh we got Big Red doing the recap! We’re off to a strong start, I see.

Ok, so I don’t know which is funnier (objectively): Reddy calling Antoine ‘Napoleon’ or the ‘zat man looks ridiculous’ line delivery -- I mean, I do not condone Antoine’s behaviour when he said that line, but ABF makes impertinence sound funny. Still, ‘Napoleon over here’ is my new favourite thing to call Antoine.

I am absolutely loving Miss Jenn in this scene (’when they go low, we sing high’, anyone), but why’s she threatening my Sebby? She has no right.

Ahhhhhhhh we’re getting the Gaston scene! I mean, of course I knew that, but I still don’t think I’m ready for the sheer awesomeness...

Ok, things are awkward between Ashlyn and her Biggie (see, I noticed she calls him that and that’s why I chose to call him Reddy instead)... hope they’ll be fine though. I know what they have is stronger than some so-called French bloke trying to come between them.

I... forgive me, I need to take 5... the Gaston number is a thousand times better with the choreography! Big Red performing his heart out, EJ making Gaston look effortless just like he did in the audition, juggling those eggs, and then the dancers... glorious, indeed.

‘Keep our heads down and our chins up’ ... and Seb trying to physically do it... adorable! But why is Miss Jenn being so harsh to him today? I don’t like that.

Ok, so I’m happy for Nini (or is it NIna?) and I’m happy for Olivia, but I just don’t seem to be able to get invested in her, either in the show or in real life. I don’t know why, but that’s just how I feel. To each their own, I always say.

EJ making the Career Day announcement in the middle of Ricky and Nini’s conversation is just... a choice. An interesting choice on the part of whoever wrote it.

Yikes, Ricky! What is it with guys and violating Nini’s phone’s privacy?

Ok, so I was an advocate for ‘EJ and Gina emphatically as friends’, but I think I’m sold on them romantically. It’s kind of hard for me here -- as an aro, I’m uncomfortable with the ‘everything evolves into romance and revolves around romance’ approach, but as an unapologetic shipper, I think this episode is going to shatter my heart and then heal it and then shatter it again.

‘How many of you are familiar with the phrase “Seize the day”?’ Um, yeah, I love Newsies! You know, for someone who has never seen it and has only heard a couple of songs from it... where was I?

Ooh, we’re getting Jennzara content! After all that ‘Zacky Roy’ action, I’m ready for this.

And here, Carlos struggling to make the part of Chip sound good just goes to prove that this part is too small for Sebby! You don’t just go from Sharpay to Chip like that. I mean, I kind of see it... Seb’s got a Chip-worthy smile; but at the end of the day, Chip hasn’t got a Seb-worthy song, nay, showstopping number.

I won’t lie, seeing Big Red give Ricky the treatment he’s been getting from him was low-key (high-key) satisfying. But I can’t even tell you why I’m suddenly starting to empathise with Ricky here. Still, Reddy is right - Ricky’s been here before. Or if I might quote Carlos here, ‘Is this Mamma Mia 2, cos here we go again!’

You know, Ashlyn is right. Ignore the test. Career tests are bull. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve got the most ridiculous results on these things... though I guess ‘mediator’ isn’t so far removed from ‘translator’, which is my dream job that I’m working towards. I guess career tests are like horoscopes and prophecies -- they’re not meant to be taken literally, but require reading between the lines.

‘I live to serve’ Oh Reddy, don’t be like that! I mean, I know working in the service industry is one thing and being a doormat is another, but right now it just kind of seems like he’s equating them in his mind and putting himself down because of it, and he’s being outwardly cheerful for the benefit of others. Maybe it’s not just Ricky who needs therapy, and Reddy definitely needs a LeFou of his own, to cheer him up and lift his spirits, and remind him how brilliant he is.

You know, I think both Kourtney and Howie make some valid points here... but I’m afraid I’m with Kourtney on this one. It’s difficult to trust someone if you find out there’s a whole side of them you didn’t know.

Gosh, I’m so done with Rini. Even Carlos has an inside voice compared to what these two are demonstrating right now. How ‘main character syndrome’ of them is it to make a scene in the middle of the Slices?

Ohhhhh, Paris... gosh, why does everyone keep saying the wrong things with the best intentions in this episode? It’s frustrating.

Awwww, I can’t with these two! ‘The only other thing that makes me happy is you.’ But then he’s like ‘maybe it’s not enough’, and I just got a flashback of how he once told her ‘you are enough’... so I say, so are you, Reddy! You are enough, and Ash is just trying to do the best for you, but she’s kind of missing the point... but you are enough. And she knows it.

Awwww! S1 Mr Mazzara would never have. But I love this new version of him.

Ohh, the Duke talk! Ok, I don’t know how to feel about these two. I just want them to be close, always.

Is it just me, or does Sofia’s acting in this scene give off Cyrus’ coming out scene vibes?

And here we go again with the flashbacks. Nini and Ricky in the treehouse remind me how I felt during the ‘I love you’ scene last season... except this one is not the start of something new (as on-the-nose as that sounds), it’s the end of something old. It’s heartbreaking, but I think it’s necessary. And I think they both know it. If it’s meant to be, they’ll find their way back to each other -- when they’re both more mature. They need to grow separately for the time being.

Oh my, oh my! It’s the ‘If I Can’t Love Her’ scene, and it hits even harder than it might have, because this is actually the first time I’m ever hearing this song. Fan of BATB as I am, I am just not familiar with the stage version of it and so there are some songs I just have never heard. But they hit hard. 

Aww, Ashlyn with the Slices shirt! And EJ declining Duke after that was the only future he could see for himself... And Big Red being the absolute best, most supportive friend always and forever, whatever is going on in his own life... if I had a friend like him, I’d never let them go. And I’d never let them forget how amazing they are.

Ok, but I’m crying... I have been since the song started, and I think I will be for a long time after it’s ended... this episode really did break my heart. But it healed it, too. How weird is that? This was a ride. Enough to last me the week, I hope.

[tooruluv]

Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader ( part 4 )

❝ they were the sun and moon, destined to be together but only ever totally meeting once every hundred years or so. ❞

description: in a world where you only see color when you're in love, you've grown frustrated of the greyscale. but falling in love with someone you barely know was never something you planned. and, him not returning the feelings definitely wasn’t planned.

genre: soulmate au... except not quite. everyone is born colorblind. you can only see color once you fall in love (and it grows brighter until you see full color as the love grows). however, that doesn't ensure a lasting connection. it simply means that love exists in that moment, until it doesn't.

word count: 1,680

warnings/notes: nothin’ crazy!! cursing, of course. this one was fun to write!! next part will be longer, promise <3

prev | next

“ ‘cause i can’t make you love me if you don’t, you can’t make your heart feel something it won’t ” - i can’t make you love me, dave thomas junior

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

For your entire life, you had always wondered what your favorite color would be. You would hear your parents talk about it with their friends, you would hear it between the lucky few who had met their lovers early. But you never had one.

It should be such an easy question to ask someone when you first meet them. It should be the most basic human answer, a description of who they are as a person. You’ve done research, scanned websites and took fake online “what color is your aura?” quizzes, only to become frustrated by the black and white.

You even tried to compare the shades of grey to colors. Your mother would tell you what color something is, and you would try to remember. It never worked.

But now, if someone were to ask “what’s your favorite color?”, you would simply tell them, “yellow.”

“I’ll wait for you after practice.” Tsukki told you the next morning.

He stood directly beside your locker, tall and still as if he never hunched over in his life. He pushed up his glasses and walked away as a way to conclude his statement.

You rolled your eyes. Of all the people on this planet, you’ve fallen in love with him. You looked up as if to ask God, or whoever’s up there, “why?”

Working at Blu for the summer was an easy job. When you weren’t glancing at Tsukishima, you poured coffee and lemonades and sold baked goods. It was good for extra money, and everyone that you worked with was kind and welcomed you with smiles. 

Tsukki was sitting at his table, drinking his daily plain black coffee, when your coworker caught you staring. She was a third-year and had been working there since she was your age, so it wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed his attendance. 

Wiping her hands on her apron (which are blue, now that you know), she said, “He’s cute. You should ask him for his number.”

You immediately jumped back, pretending to wipe the counter down. “Absolutely not.”

“He comes in here every day.” She said, as if you didn’t already know. “No normal guy comes in to a coffee place in the middle of summer everyday without reason.”

“We have good coffee.”

“Sure. That’s why.”

For the rest of the summer, she made sure to schedule you for the morning shifts and hang back when she sees him come in. 

At practice, the girls were all discussing what they were making for the bake sale. It was a fun practice, full of team building exercises and barely any running. 

Mai looped her arm through yours as practice ended. She gave you one of her award winning smiles, bouncing on her feet. 

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking something.” You said, pushing into her side. 

“You’re baking with Kei Tsukishima tonight.” Mai stopped when you almost reached the volleyball practice gym. “Are you excited? Nervous? Do you have everything you need? Chapstick?”

“Fuck you.” 

You pushed her away as you headed to the gym to help with the boys practice. She kept making kissy faces towards you. You flipped her off.

Kei Tsukishima was not one to pay attention to little things. He was a big picture man. He focused on how things affected his future, about college applications, about how plays can be executed by the entire team. 

Yet, when you walked into the gym, he couldn’t help but focus on a strand of your hair that kept sticking to your mouth.

“Are you coming or what?” Tsukki adjusted the bag on his back. He stood at the doors, leaning on one. You were picking up some extra balls for Kageyama and Hinata.

“Coming, coming.” You waved goodbye to the dynamic duo. 

The walk was mainly quiet. Yamaguchi left before you two, claiming that he had a lot of homework to do. You didn’t know about that.

“You don’t have to stay after, you know.” Tsukki said. You looked up. “You don’t have to stay after practice to help those two. You already are helping us enough.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Why do you do it?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you come to our volleyball practices?” He kept his eyes straight. “You come from your practice to help us with ours, and that just sounds ridiculous to me.”

“It looks good on my college app.” You told him. It was his turn to look at you. “And Ukai has been close to my family for a long time, so it’s hard to say no to him when he asks for a volunteer.”

“That makes sense.” He said. “I couldn’t do it.”

“What? Have two practices, or volunteer for Ukai?”

“Both.”

You chuckled, nudging him with your side. He kept walking, but he had a smile too. He wasn’t so dark and gloomy as people thought. 

He had a gorgeous smile.

The rest of the walk was in silence again. It was already dark, and the moonlight made him look ethereal. Tsukki really could be compared with the moon, you decided.

Every once in a while, you two walked too close and accidentally bumped into each other. Or your back of your hand brushed his. It just ended up in little laughs between you both.

And, before you knew it, you were standing in front of your house.

“This is me.”

“I am not wearing this shit.”

“Yes, you are.”

You were trying so hard not to cry laughing, holding up a pink apron that your mom used. You already had a matching one on. He looked at it as if you just offered him a can of dog shit for breakfast.

“You could not pay me to wear that.”

“It’s this or get shit all over you.”

“I’ll take the shit.”

Sighing, you reached to force it on him. He moved back, narrowly avoiding your attack. One more try ended in the same result. You were giggling now, and he was smiling.

“Just…” A struggling pull over his head. “Put…” A push. “It on!” And your arms were around his back.

The position was awkward, but both of you were laughing too much to notice. You had your arms wrapped around his waist, chest to chest as you tied his apron around him. He stood with his arms crossed as he let you put the fucking apron on.

“There. Look at you. So pretty.”

He pushed up his glasses and looked down. “Must be why you’re in love with me.”

“If you keep pulling that card, I’ll be sure you don’t get credit for any of these.”

“Now you’re just being cruel.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Tsukki, there are literal instructions. You follow them.”

“No shit. My question is, what the hell is softened butter?”

“Oh my god.”

Soon enough, the two of you were into a rhythm. You were baking brownies and cupcakes as if you did it together every day. Conversations came natural. 

It was nice.

It wasn’t until you noticed the brown specs of cocoa powder on his nose did you realize how close you were standing. You were to his right, mixing whatever was in your bowl at the time, But you could feel his warmth from beside you.

He could feel you, too. 

“The brownies are brown, obviously.” You said in the middle of the silence. “The cupcakes are brown with black and orange sprinkles, and white frosting. I thought I should tell you.”

He was silent for a minute. You thought that maybe you were annoying him with reminders that you were in love with him, or maybe you should’ve kept it to yourself. But then, he turned to you.

“You said that my eyes were golden brown.”

“I did.”

He was standing far too close. He was standing incredibly too close. And he was staring into your eyes for far too long. You couldn’t conjure up any reasons to hate him, or get rid of your feelings. Why would you want to do that when he is standing beside you, warm and brilliant and glowing.

Fuck.

“What color are my glasses?”

“Black.”

“And my jacket?”

“Black.”

Now he was standing directly in front of you. You didn’t know exactly when you turned, but you had. He was inches from you. His lips were inches from yours.

“And the apron?”

“Pink.”

He was leaning in. There is absolutely no way that this is happening.

All you had to do was lean in, and you could get it over with. Get it out of your mind and gone forever, along with the stupid colors that remind you with every second that he can’t see them back. All you had to do was press your lips to his…

You could feel his breath on your face. Your heart hammered your chest and everything froze at once.

“You must be Kei Tsukishima!”

You jumped back, bringing your body back to your mixing bowl. Your mom entered the kitchen, pajamas on and a smile plastered on her face. You pretended nothing was happening.

“Yes, ma’am.” He greeted. As if nothing was happening.

As if nothing was happening. Because nothing had happened.

“Mom, I know that it’s late.” You started to explain, but she quickly stopped you. 

“Hush now. You spend as much time as you need. Nice to meet you, Tsukishima.” She sent you a wink, heading up the stairs. 

You closed your eyes, trying to forget what just happened. But, when you opened them, you were faced with the worst thing that could possibly happen in that moment.

The colors gained a little bit of hue. His pink apron contrasted brighter against his black jacket. The orange sprinkles gained a little bit of tint. The greyscale filter lifted a bit more.

You wanted to bang your head against the wall. Fuck.

tag list: @vhskenma​​​​​ @elianetsantana​​​​​ @mini-eggs-reads​​​​​ @ysasian​​​ @hhwanggu​​​ @i-stole-your-juice-box​​​ @definitelynotbianca​​​ @denkithunder​​ @smuttyanimeslut​ @yourlocalbabybird​ @theydy-madamonsieur 

[toooldforfandom-liveblogs]

Gravity Falls S02E18 - Weirdmageddon Part I

I really like that name for the end of the world. I'm not sure what to expect from this one since this is literally new territory for everyone. My one hope is that Mabel gets forgiven easily but there has to be some drama, either for the twins or the Stans (since that relationship really needs some mending, and the end of the world seems to be a good place for that kind of thing.) I think that's all so let's do this!

If this is the first shot of the episode, things are going to get _weird_.

Wait. Wait. What.

Okay, had to go back and check Bill's summoning circle.

I completely forgot about this but I guess he needs all the symbols for something beyond summoning everything weird into this dimension? But why? Uhm.

Anyway, back in Dreamscaperers I wrote:

Glasses = The ones Stan found in the room with the magic carpet? Question Mark = Soos Ice - Fish with food? > Pine = Dipper Star with an eye  Hand = Whoever wrote the journals considering the symbol on their covers? Llama/Alpaca? Shooting star = Mabel Heart with stitches

Fish with food ended up being Stan's fez. I _think_ Heart with Stitches could be Robbie. Hand is obviously Ford. I'm still not sure about Glasses (they really look like Stan's glasses but... how would that work?) and Star (maaaaybe Gideon? The star appears in the ending cypher in S02E14.) The alpaca/llama and the ice are a complete mystery. Considering everyone of importance is in there already, maybe Wendy is one of those two?

Symbols aside, does this mean that Mabel is going to be missing until who knows when? That's a bit disappointing.

Imagine being able to choose any physical form at all and choosing to keep being a dorito.

Before I paused I was convinced this guy was some weird Nigel Thornberry cameo.

So, Bill has 10 friends, which is exactly the number of symbols in the summoning circle. Huh. Interesting.

Maybe it means nothing but their appearance feels so sudden that I feel they have to be important somehow.

Immersion ruined, the Northwests would never lower themselves and go "downtown"

What a trianglist, she had no problems with Mabel.

I imagine Wendy can't wait to go to college a thousand miles away from her family.

Death, Famine, War, Conquest and Capitalism.

That's horrifying. But he's a dick. What a moral dilemma. Nah, he really deserves it.

Why steal Durland? Huh. Maybe he's also one of the symbols? Or Bill is just being Bill.

Oh, oh, I know what they do!

What an intro, I'm 100% sold.

What can our protagonists do? I guess Ford has a plan, maybe the symbols are for unsummoning Bill and that's why he's collecting them so they can't do whatever ritual they need to do. Maybe Ford and Stan will be in a similar situation that made them fight 30 years ago, but this time they actually communicate and win? Mabel is out so I hope they rescue her (or she rescues herself) before too much plot happens.

I _love_ how much of an effect the changed OP had on me.

After watching 37 episodes with the same opening song any changes are immediately noticeable and it feels _wrong_. What a great way to show how everything is changing for the worse thanks to Bill.

It does make me wonder how Gravity Falls is going to recover though. It looks _bad_, bad enough that in any other show I wouldn't be surprised by a time-machine or a literal genie undoing everything bad that happened. I doubt that'll happen here, since the town itself is so used to the "weird" but if someone dies all bets are off.

YESSSS, Dipper doesn't blame her! I'm sure there'll be some self-blame later on but I'm so glad his first reaction was to be worried.

Why is Soos unaffected? Is it related to his presence in the summoning circle? Looking for unaltered people may be a good way to find who are the missing symbols.

Soos deserved more episodes, what a hero

Has there been any positive romantic relationship in Gravity Falls?

Wendy and Dipper was an unrequited mess, Mabel and all her crushes were all disasters of some kind or another, the less said about Wendy and Robbie the better, and Tambry and Robbie is the result of the twins messing with their minds without their consent. Oh, and Gideon and his murderous crush on Mabel.

I love that tiny shiny dodrio.

I didn't need to know that Bill's hat was meat and bones.

What? No! Warnings later, explanations how to defeat a demon now!

This is the first time he calls Dipper by his symbol, right? He also called Ford "six fingers." The writers really wanted everyone on the same page here about making the relation between the symbols and the characters.

...I refuse to believe that the eye piece meant nothing with how much it has been shown!

Weirdmageddon sounds much better.

Wow. He has been wandering around for three days, probably having to scavenge for food and water. These kids are really going to need a therapist after summer break is over.

For some reason I find that guy more disturbing that most of the weirdness in this episode so far. He just sounds very predator-y.

...oh Dipper, those nachos are three days old at best. So young, so ignorant of the consequences of gastroenteritis.

...of course. I'm glad she's okay. She's been shown as a very badass so it would have been a shame if she was down without a fight.

But, but, rabies.

Can't wait for the weirdmaggeddon to be over and then immediately after everyone dying of infectious diseases.

So, how many post-weirdmageddon dipper/wendy fics did this scene inspire?

Robbie is conspicuously missing from that list

nevermind. Would have been an amazing selfie though, can't fault him for that

Aw. This got me a bit teary-eyed. They really can do anything if they are together.

Shame about Mabel being inside Bill's floating lair completely out of their reach.

What a raw deal, last game I played with twins on it they l– actually, never mind, spoilers. But it was really cool, believe me.

It looks like the mission briefing for a stealth game so, in my case, I'd try to avoid the lights, fail miserably a thousand times and then rage quit. Hopefully Dipper is better at stealth.

Making the world weird?

Wouldn't they know what's going to happen? Since there seems to be only one timeline? Actually, nevermind, I'm too sober to analyze the time travel mechanics of gravity falls.

Time Baby was the most powerful entity in the show so far! Stakes have been raised.

RIP Bodacious T, we never go to know you.

Mad Max: Fury Road, 2015

Two months being a villain and he still hasn't learned to avoid monologuing.

Don't worry, Gideon. It took Steven Universe 6 years to grow a neck, you'll get one someday.

Huh. So Bill manipulated him by using his obsession for Mabel. That's a nice way to explain why it came back after so many episodes without mentioning it too much.

Ugh.

She's a genuine action movie heroine trapped in a cartoon

I have no idea how Wendy manages to get more and more badass this season.

Right!? Right!? Wow.

Holy shit, this really is Fury Road.

that's deep, man

Ah, that explains it. Nothing more dangerous than a philosophy major.

Hatoful Boyfriend, 2014

My mind is exploding right now. I wasn't ready for anime Dipper and Wendy. What are the monkey and kid in the backseat referencing?

Lady Gag– nah, I refuse to use the same joke three times in the same liveblog.

* screams in terror too *

What a shame that we couldn't see the birth of the legend of Soos.

I can't believe Dipper is using the "Power of Understanding" to talk Gideon down.

This is really good. I almost want to joke and say "but it wasn't worth the Wendy/Dipper episodes" but it actually does make them work in retrospect. It's probably the largest source of character growth for Dipper during the show and here's the payoff.

I mean, yes.

WHAT

HOW DARE YOU

GAME IS OVER, AND I WON

NOW IT'S TIME TO START THE FUN

I ALWAYS LOVE CORRUPTING LIVES

NOW LET'S SEE WHICH PINES SURVIVES

well, that's nice.

---

I wasn't sure what to expect from this "Part 1", I thought it was going to be mostly setup. And it had a bit of that, just to show how screwed Gravity Falls (the town) is, but after that it was all action and it was all good.

I think getting Ford out of the way early was a good idea, it removes the possibility of a quick solution. Now Dipper has to figure things on his own. He still needed Wendy to remind him of what he and Mabel are capable of but that's a friend offering help, not "the mentor" giving him the answer to the problem. On the other hand, while Stan hasn't appeared after the goat, he hasn't been captured yet (he's important enough to deserve an on-screen capture, unless it's going to be revealed as a demoralizing surprise?) so I think he'll appear soon since he's just a guy, without any special knowledge about Bill.

Soos really deserves his own show. "The Legend of Soos" Or give Wendy her own show with Soos as the mysterious stranger that appears from time to time to help. Because wow, Wendy is lost in this show, she should be the protagonist of something.

But the star of the show was Dipper talking Gideon down. I _really_ didn't expect that. This is not a show where the protagonists defeat their villains by talking to them (with some exceptions) so I thought they'd defeat him in some other, more violent, way. And the way he uses the "Power of Understanding" to do it (go read Scott Pilgrim)! While Dipper never got to that extreme, he "gets" it and that's just * chef kiss *

I can't wait for the next episode, especially because this one ended in a cliffhanger, so until next time!

[shainlov]

New Years Exchange!!!

@the-sociopathic-jacket I was your gifter! And this is... longer than it was supposed to, I’m so sorry.

Nemuri never forgave herself, but life moves on.

A year before Midnight joined UA staff, she had a difficult case including her family members that no hero should've go through but it’s just such a common trope.

Nemuri Kayama was forever convinced that the case of Sosuke’s killer was going to forever stay her hardest one. Even five years later, she still grieved the boy she didn’t know until a few brief moments before his demise.

If she were to guess when it all began, it would be when she got involved in the case. Though… Sosuke’s... parents would point at her pathetic hero career and shout that it was then when she went to the hero school when she started... she doomed Sosuke to death... because anyone else would’ve done a better job and saved him.

If she never went to the hero school, Sosuke would’ve never attracted the attention of that villain. Or any villain at all.

If she were a smarter woman, a braver-- If not for her incompetence he'd… well, either way, she’s never been the same.

Kayama saw horrible things, but the death of the young boy taken it’s greatest hit on her yet.

She couldn’t bear the guilt alone... she was very bad at handling her feelings on her own. She depended on people to help her to take care of herself when she was at her worst.

Of course, those people weren’t either Present Mic or Eraserhead, they barely held their emotional baggage. It was her wife who helped her through awful episodes each time.

Midnight was ever so slightly jealously looking at a monitor, watching a disgustingly romantic scene playing out between Ms. Joke and Eraserhead - it was the origin of Emi’s “marry me” joke that she repeated endlessly tormenting both Nemuri and Shouta with.

Both of her... friends were very good actors - convincing enough to make Midnight envious, even a little worried about whether they were genuine. She had to pinch herself to calm down and tell herself that Aizawa Shouta was gay. A few times.

Shouta would never answer to the advances of a person he wasn’t attracted to. Shouta would never try to hurt Nemuri either - hell, he asked many times if she was alright with his part in the operation because he knew of her silly crush.

Other than three of them at the scene, there were also two other underground heroes and a nearby police station on alert, waiting tensely for a signal. One of the extra teammates was inside the bar as an immediate back-up, while Midnight was waiting outside with the other guy. Shouta said he's never seen either of them before. It made Midnight wonder about how big the Underground Agency was.

That’s when Nemuri’s mobile meant for hero-related stuff rang. Excusing herself, she stepped out of the van, gladly distracting herself from the monitors.

“Lovely," She murmured to herself, "who’s this?” She answered in her "Midnight" voice, she didn’t recognize the number. Her fans liked to get her phone number from her agency’s site and call her. Some were sweet, while others just plain creepy.

“Mistress Midnight,” The voice on the other end of the line striked her immediately as someone dangerous. She was pretty good at reading people based off of their voice alone. Nobody in her agency had this voice and only those people addressed her as Mistress. “I’d suggest you come to your office quickly and pick it up, you have a very important message there." The person sounded almost giddy, like a little child who got a treat, or rather, in this situation, left someone a treat and wanted to see their reaction to it. With years of hero training and experience, she formed a suspect’s profile. "Time is extendable, but I don’t have forever.” This could be another freaky fan, but her gut was giving her especially bad vibe. “Ah, and don’t worry, we’re going to meet soon.”

Kayama was confused as to what the hell was that supposed to mean, but for now, she returned to the van. She was still on her mission and she had to keep the watch in case of Shouta and Emi requesting a back-up. Stepping back into the van, she bumped into the underground hero guy.

He shouted at her to get out there and "do her thing" because the operation was going to shit.

Alright then.

Nemuri counted herself as a part of the case ever since the villain called her phone which led her... home. The home of a naive pretty little girl who grew too fond of heroes and aspired to become like them.

Which resulted in the pretty little girl getting kicked out.

At 4 AM, about five hours after apprehending the villain gang and sending them into jail, Nemuri was sitting in her office.

Her leg bouncing as she looked at her phone. She had only a few saved numbers - only people she trusted were there, but there was an exception. There were two numbers saved of people she didn't trust one bit, and the missed calls came from them.

Back then, the agency building was her only home - she had a side room off of her big office - where she lived. Her office was modest, the only pieces of furniture were a desk, three leather armchairs, and her chair on wheels. The walls were covered praising articles and her posters, and also a sue for "too revealing outfit". She won that lawsuit by saying that the costume-regulation laws weren't established yet. They served as amusement for her bad mood.

In her desk's drawer, there were letters from her fans, police officers, some secret admirers and not-so-secret ones. She never responded because of her brand, and the other reason was... well, she was irreversibly lesbian. Male advances flattered her, but she wasn't interested.

"Hard to get" was helping her to sell more merchandise.

Below that drawer, she held some private things - like embarrassing photos of her cousins and aunts - and her identification documents. Only a small fraction though, she knew how things could get messy, and the most important stuff were kept in the side room, where she was the sole person who had access. It was relatively small and consisted of a pull-out couch and a wardrobe, and a small kitchen, and it connected to a bathroom with a shower and bathtub.

She used the shower at around 1 AM and ever since has been sitting motionlessly only changing the object that she was blankly staring at. The leather armchair in her office already dried from the water her wet tangled hair left.

Two notifications read:

You have missed 4 call(s) from Father

You have missed 17 call(s) from Mother

...and Midnight was… puzzled.

What was she supposed to do? The Kayamas have disowned her ages ago! What could’ve they wanted from her? They had everything! She was their disappointment! Her parents disowned her when she got into the hero school because she didn't want to play "status", and "power", and "house".

She disobeyed and went against what her parents thought was best for her. What was she even to them after all? A doll? They've married out of love and she was supposed to be sold? What's fair in that?

Pretty face, no brains and talented at dress-up games - that's what she started as. She still had little to no brain, but she wasn't useless anymore.

Surely, there was no emotional attachment to her. After all, they threw her out of her--their home. Well, not officially, and since that wasn't legal and they didn't want to be labeled as child abusers by abandoning her, they got her an apartment, moved her things and paid for it until she was 21.

She got her act together, unlocked the phone to look at dozens of missed texts.

Most of them were demanding to call back as soon as possible. When that list ended, she noticed the gap between this flood of texts and the last ones she sent them on New Year’s Eve back when she was 22 and hoped that she could fix their relationship... somehow.

So, not minding the hour, she called. It took two attempts - each to different parent - before Mother picked up. Her voice sounded… weary.

“Hello?”

“What happened?” Midnight didn’t quite sit well with the fact she was talking to her parents after promising herself to not look back.

“Nemuri?” The surprise in the woman’s voice that answered the phone was no wonder - she didn’t hear Nemuri’s voice for straight-up over ten years.

“Yeah. Why were you calling me?”

“Well… it’s about Sosuke, yo-- my son.” Nemuri flinched at that.

Of course, her parents wouldn’t know about her being aware of who Sosuke Kayama was. Her mother didn’t tell her she was pregnant, she officially hasn’t met him, she never talked with him. Nemuri was disowned sixteen years ago, and Sosuke was fourteen.

When she heard her mother went into labor, she sneaked into the hospital to greet her replacement and wish him good luck, but after that, she didn’t make any effort to contact him.

“What about him?” She kept her voice flat.

“He’s been kidnapped and it’s your fault.” Kayama Saori’s voice was sweet in her perfume commercials, but now it made Nemuri want to throw up. She leaned forward with her ear pressed to the phone. The heroine didn’t know whether she wanted to start apologizing or to throw the phone yelling that it wasn’t her fault.

“It’s not. Did you call to send me hate mail?” For the first few moments, it didn’t reach Nemuri that she was talking about a kidnapping over a phone. She never came to accept that her mother and father rejected her. So now, thoughts processed slower than usual.

“They want you to be the one to find him. You HAVE TO do this.”

“They?” Nemuri frowned, slightly surprised her mother hasn’t broken into wails yet. That was unusual…

“Yes. Whoever did this.”

It’s a game then?

Midnight bit at her thumb frustrated. Her little brother-- Sosuke was in danger because of her hero career? Was that true?

“I’ll call the police to question you, I am not a detective.” She said simply going for the disconnect button.

“No police or else he will be killed. Hurry.” Her mother hissed before she hung up. That left Nemuri frozen in her seat. So it was because of her.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848440

[kendrixtermina]

You seem like pretty knowable about Edelgard lore and motivation, so I've been meaning to ask. What exactly was the catalyst that made Edelgard hate the Church of Seiros so much? I know they've done a ton of shitty stuff in general, but what made Edelgard dislike them personally? I looked on the wiki and it either wasn't on there yet or I just didn't understand it. (I want to be able to eventually explain it to my sister who so far thinks Edelgard is evil, she hasn't finished the AM route yet).

IDK if this is something one can be “knowledgeable” about I just played the same game everyone else did, I’m no authority I just like analyzing fictional works for fun.

And whoever added that recent lengthy edit to the wiki article… let’s just say their opinions are discernible.  But they might say the same about me. 

Good vs Sympathetic

First there are some interesting premises hidden in this question - why would a personal motivation be more convincing that a net negative impact on the world at large? It’s the latter a much better reason? 

Like there’s a big difference between saying “they had legit reasons for their feelings/actions” (you could say this even about rhea) and saying that someone’s a force for good. Being understandable and consistent isn’t goodness; IT’s just good writing, and “they can’t help it, of course they acted like this, look at what happened to them” is more an argument for someone being sympathetic/understandable than good. Murder or manslaughter? How much can we blame them for their bad deeds. 

You might have very good personal reasons to hate someone or something, and pursuing that hate at the expense of others could still be a very selfish thing. There are your feelings, and then there’s how you act on them. There are many ways to act on the same feeling. 

Conversely, it is possible to be repulsed by evil or mismanagement just because of its own wrongness/stupidity. If you read about how some evil deed happened to total strangers in a foreign country, you would still be angry and you might even vote, sign petitions or attent protests so it doesn’t keep happening. 

If the Church of Seiros is doing objectively bad stuff, is that not enough to oppose it? Not only does Seiros/Rhea rule everything from the shadows, she’s accountable to no one, and she’s doing a bad job at it. TWSITD are her enemies too but they’re running rampant under her nose and in the recent past, deposed the Emperor and assasinated the king of faerghus to install their own agents.

Rhea may not have intended to let xenophobia, inequality, corruption, obsession with crests and instability to fester but that’s still what happened - and people can’t file complaints because she’s ruling in secret and anyone who complaints in branded a heretic. Almost everyone in the cast has been affected by those issues - the “peace” at the start of the story is illusory. Also, this whole shadow war between Seiros and Agartha is being carried out on the backs of the ordinary people who have no say in anything. At least if you know who the king/lord is you know who to rebel against if there’s no bread.

It’s no good. And as the heir to the largest territory, Edelgard is one of the few people who have a chance to stop it. It’s not easy for her either, given that the empire is thoroughly infiltrated by TWSID agents who would never have let her butt touch the throne if she didn’t play ball, or at least not without a bloody fight that might well end with the empire in splinter factions, aafter all, her father had already been reduced to a puppet ruler (see what happens to Dimitri when he returns to faerghus - Arundel is said to mantain his own personal army)

And since it was one of her ancestors who sold out Fodlan to seiros for power, she might feel that it’s her responsibility to put it right.

The real power isn’t with the people or even the nobles and the rulers of the three factions - it’s with Rhea and TWSITD. They keep burning up people without end for their own causes that have nothing to do with the people themselves, they both see humans as “beasts”… Shouldn’t that be stopped? 

To stop evil is a much better motivation than petty personal grudges.

Edelgard’s thinking

The first thing to understand with Edelgard is that she’s a big picture thinker through and through. For better or for worse she looks at and decides everything based on how it will look in a history book a few centuries down the line. (For prime examples of evidence look at the Dorothea support or some of her lines after fighting Dimitri)

This isn’t to say that she doesn’t have bias or personal influences like everyone else, but she values and strives for objectivity. That means questioning herself alot (something you wouldn’t see that much on routes other than her own as she keeps the tough leader face on in public), it means putting what yields the best results over what she wants or likes, and it means looking at the greater whole. 

She doesn’t just want to get revenge on the specific people who wronged her; She wants to ensue that it never happens to anyone else. She wants to undo the whole situation that allowed for it to happen - even if that means postponing her own revenge and working with those she hates the most. This is very much her putting efficiency and the end result above her own feelings. 

It may well have been Thales and his henchmen who cut her open, but they couldn’t have done it without the cooperation of the corrupt imperial nobles. (likewise, they worked with xenophobic kingdom nobles who didn’t like Dimitri’s dad making peace with the foreigners to orchestrate the Duscur nonsense)

Why were they in power? How were they convinced to allow for such a thing and give Thales the ressources he wanted/needed? Because of the social system that Seiros set up so that crests are equated with power.  

There will always be assholes and evil people, but how much damage they cause depends on wether the system they operate in lets them get away with it.

Also, even when you look just at TWSITD’s involvement, Edelgard’s siblings were butchered to make her a mighty tool for the shadow conflict. Just as Rhea in turn did her own experiments to revive sothis and “regain all that she lost”

So even on the most direct level, what happened was a result of the shadow conflict. 

And it is instrumental to keep in mind that Edelgard wants to remove both shadow factions. 

Her beef’s strictly with them - she knew that the Kingdom and Alliance would probably fight her if she went against the church and was fully prepared to pay that price, but that’s a side effect of going where the enemy is - she handed out letters and pamphlets informing ppl of the church’s evils and asking them to choose sides. 

TWSITD have fearsome power and have infiltrated the empire, but they’re few. The Church got its claws in most local governments. Why not throw the power of the former at the latter, to take down the stronger enemy, and then take out the Agarthans when your power’s consolidated? It’s a decision not about whom to fight, but about whom to fight first. 

Also because of her big-picture thinking she looks at the absolute numbers. In her own words, she’s going for the path of least casualties. 

PPl tend to judge harm caused by action stronger than harm caused by inaction but actually the harm is the same. Acting to remove the two shadow factions will have a cost (the war) but not acting also has a cost - that the dysfuction goes on and on forever. 

She doesn’t particularly want power if it were up to her she’d have chosen a normal ordinary life and she says so on many occasions. But she can stop it, stop the endless sacrifice and dysfunction, so she can’t just let it continue and do nothing. 

Of course with that sorta logic you always have to consider how each action impacts the end result so you don’t destroy all you want to protect because you tell yourself that it will pay off later, after all ‘the many’ are just an abstraction for a lot of individuals. But Edelgard’s not really losing sight of that, she keeps looking to minimize the casualties where she can, she offers people a chance to surrender, you get some lecture questions where she’s genuinely considering what do with rhea if she DOES surrender. 

It’s worth noting that on her route, the war ends the quickest and only the Kingdom lands get significantly wrecked (and the Kingdom always gets wrecked even if it gets rebuild afterwards, it was already in a lot of chaos before the war even started). You have to fight the peeps you don’t recruit but that’s no different in the other routes. Claude manages to seize control of the Church without going through the knights so he manages to pull off an at least equivalent end result (both shadow factions removed, society permanently changed) while offing fewer of the named characters, and lets not fail to give him credit for that,  but he might not have, if Edelgard hadn’t conveniently removed Rhea and just generally blazed a convenient trail for him to, in his own words, “finish the job for her”. Taking in the church with Rhea still in place didn’t work out too well for poor Dimitri, I seem to recall that she used the poor man as a meatshield and set his capital on fire - which is why Claude wisely didn’t touch that hot potato in any route where he doesn’t have Byleth as a bargaining chip. 

Of course that said, going too hard on the comparison would seem to miss the point. While Claude’s and Edelgard’s routes are about their respective grand visions for the future and their badassery as great inspiring leaders, the Church and Kingdom routes are more about people coming together to weather difficult circumstances. Dimitri isn’t really cut out to be a good ruler; but the beauty of his story is how he eventually does his best to become one anyways through the aid of his loyal friends. It’s an underdog story. 

If your sister prefers that sort of story (or just Dimitri himself, as a more emotional, relatable type of hero and a well-crafted, compelling and memorable character) that’s just her personal taste/ good right. 

Edelgard’s personal biases

She surely has a bit of “broken pedestal syndrome” going on, the very human tendency to absolutely reject things you once idealized once they’re proven to be flawed, to assume that if you were lied to often enough, then everything must be a lie… she sure reads what she learns of Seiros’ past actions in a bad light and assumed that Seteth & the others are guiltier/ more complicit than they actually are. 

The problem with Rhea is that she’s selfish, not that she’s a dragon. But if she were the only example you know for what a dragon is like? You might not be too fond of dragons. It’s not like she protests if Byleth spares Flayn and Seteth. 

She doesn’t really know Rhea’s motivation so she has to judge her by her actions and the results of those, and her actions, for all that they come from fear and loneliness, are indistinguishable from power lust by the time that Rhea’s subjugated 30 generations of humans for something their remote ancestors did 1000 years ago. Would she ever have let them go? 

So it doesn’t matter that she only got the partial story on the relics, it’s not the relics she took issue with, but the current state of the world. also Rhea is the one who erased the true records. So the 10 elites totally had it comming, fine - but Rhea’s the one who disseminated the myth that they were heroes in the first place. 

Claude only gets the truth by squeezing it out of Rhea and even then only at the very end, ppl who say that Edelgard “acted on false information” act like Claude just stumbled across the truth with minimal effort. That’s actually more unfair to Claude than to Edelgard if you ask me.... he’s a man who has gathering info as his top priority 24/7

Edelgard’s certainly more steeped in the perspective of her home country where the church is awarded significance and if it turns out to not be good then it’s utterly vile.  Claude has the sort of more detached perspective that he has because he happened to come from another country. Edelgard’s aiming for detachment but that’s only possible to a certain extent when something ruined the lives of nearly everyone you know

At the same time whatever her personal sentiments may be (and im not gonna deny that she does hate the Seiros religion), as far as her actions and decisions go, the engage conversation she has when you have her fight Rhea at the battle:

Rhea:

No matter your reasons, I cannot permit you to go on living any longer!

Edelgard:

The feeling is mutual. I must put a stop to your reign of tyranny!

Rhea:

You must know what a fool you are. The greatest of sins is to make an enemy of the goddess herself!

Edelgard:

I have only made an enemy of the church, not of the faith.

She says in several supports that she personally considers relying on the goddess to be an overly dependent attitude that doesn’t do people good, but that’s just her opinion, she’s not stopping anyone from praying in the privacy of their homes cause thats none of her business and she’s not a tyrant (see what happens if you recruit Marianne or Mercedes, her support with Manuela or the Marianne/Ferdinand support on the CF route, which reveals that he’s actually a believer.)

She just wants the Church, and Rhea specifically, out of politics… exactly what we have in any modern-day country that isn’t Saudi Arabia or the Vatican. 

Megalomania seems the most likely or politically expedient thing to claim but in the end her beef’s not with Rhea’s reasons but the results of her actions which is stagnation, mismanagement and repression. 

Your Actual Question/ Personal Reasons and Catalysts

Honestly? If we’re talking on a strictly emotional/personal level? (As much as that’s an incomplete picture with such a reason-driven character)

She probably bawled for the goddess to save her and her family down in the dungeons, again and again, and no one answered. 

She spent much of her early life just being dragged around, first being kidnapped by Arundel and held captive in the kingdom, then she was thrown in a filthy dungeon where she endured relentless pain and could do nothing but watch as her siblings died one by one. 

She was utterly helpless, a passive plaything of destiny - and then she decided she was done being passive and letting the universe kick her around. She was going to be proactive and do all she could to be in control of her own fate. 

See also the inspiring speeches that she gives to Petra and Lysithea at various points - “Don’t surrender yourself to your fate!” 

Blind reliance on the faith, to her, represents that very surrender, so she rejects it. 

This fear and rejection of being helpless and having zero control is also one of the reasons why she consistently chooses death on her own terms over life on someone elses’. 

That would still not be a valid justification if she wanted to, like, stop everyone from praying, but that’s not what she’s doing. 

[revolution-john]

How to Get to Destin

Downtown Hillsong crawled with potential felons on Fridays. The Hillsong County courthouse was a four-story beige brick building where motion hour for criminal cases was held every Friday. That’s where Maddie planned to meet Bone Sommers. Bone practiced law, but everyone knew he didn’t try at it much. He made a run for commonwealth’s attorney about five years ago and lost. After dropping that race to a known liar and embezzler, he went back to his dad’s old scrap yard and had been living there in a trailer ever since. He was smart and under the radar enough that Maddie wanted him for their lawyer if anything started flying from Dollar Bill’s trial and landing on her.

In the past year she had made a dozen or more runs along what the local cops called the The Flamingo Pipeline. A straight shot into Florida and back, two-day turnaround. There were a scary number of doctors in Florida prescribing without care oxycodone, hydrocodone, and Oxycontin. Prescribing any and all kinds of painkillers. Then, like all the rest, Maddie didn’t take long to get greedy. After her Pipeline runs she made regular monthly rounds at four local doctors and two pain clinics in nearby Inez. A side investment. There were a lot of loose ends, loose lips. Any of this could come out during Dollar Bill’s trial and Bone was at least some hope, if he would show up.

It was early afternoon before Maddie saw Bone’s truck pull into the courthouse parking lot. It looked put together with random pieces from his scrapyard, a gray fender wall, a tomato-red tailgate, and Bone looked as poorly thrown together when he popped out from the driver’s side. A short man, his jeans were too long and the heels of his boots had ridden the cuffs frayed against the ground. He was forty-seven and looked sixty, except in the eyes. His eyes were sharp blue under mostly oil-black hair. Wrinkling his face against a shaft of sunlight, he walked slowly, and Maddie seemed to remember he usually moved faster.

“Bone,” she said and nodded. “I’ve seen you move faster. What you been up to, besides making me wait outside a courthouse for two hours?”

“Maddie. Well, honey, I’ve been having a heart attack and not giving two shits, lately. I guess I won’t ask how you been. Not so good, considering you need a lawyer.”

“A heart attack?”  Maddie asked. She was looking in particular at the cigarette pinched in the fingers of his free hand. In the other was a cup of coffee. “When was that?”

“Been just about two weeks now. On my birthday, if you can believe that.”

Maddie pointed to the cigarette.

“Yeah,” Bone said in a way of acknowledgment. “You think it counts as suicide?”  He pulled a four long, hard draws and flicked the stub against the side of the courthouse.

“Not really sure, but late happy birthday.”

 “Ah, to hell with happy birthday,” he said, but was surprised she remembered. That was something.

He lit another cigarette.

“Okay then,” Maddie said. They had moved to the side of the entrance and Bone sat with his legs swinging off the side of the brick wall that lined the sidewalk.

 “I hope it counts as suicide, cause that’s my intention.”  He might have been talking to himself, eyes fixed across the street to a man selling green and red crosses made from beads. “You see that guy? His name’s Simon and he’s deaf and dumb. He hocks them bead crosses for seven bucks. I went by the Dollar General store and bought the same stuff and turns out it only costs about fifty cents to make one, when you figure it all up.”

The man, Simon, always smiled. She had seen him out here a few times. He smiled more in a day than Maddie had smiled in the last ten years. She looked again at Bone’s cigarette. “How many of them you going to smoke before we go in and get this started?”

Bone nodded, took a last drag from his cigarette, and caught up with Maggie. He hadn’t been in a courtroom in twelve years.

 Maddie married badly. Her husband, Shane Younce, was a no count, quick-tempered, spoiled mama’s boy who convinced himself he was a real man by beating Maddie into the hospital about three or four times a year.. Less than three months into the marriage, It was a hard thing to handle sober and so Maddie started buying weed from the car garage just below Hillsong’s public swimming pool. And for a time the weed and the liquor and beer kept her mind just numb enough to deal with Shane and all the hell he brought. But the Younce’s were connected in the little town, and for the very same reason she couldn’t even consider a divorce, she also found it wasn’t difficult to get stronger drugs riding on their good name.

In the first week at the garage, dropping Shane’s name, she connected with Dollar Bill, a mid-level drug dealer who sold in bulk from the back of the garage. He fixed her up with whatever she needed, and for the right price, too. From there it happened fast. One buy led to others and within two months Maddie was driving the Pipeline.

The set up was a good one until an undercover fed got Dollar Bill on audio and hidden camera selling him a Ziplock bag stuffed with pills. First thing Maddie thought to do was call Bone, who was okay with getting some work. She had a few thousand saved back from buy money for her last run that never happened. It really wasn’t her money. Fact of business, she didn’t really know whose money it was, but that wasn’t going to matter if she got sent to prison when Dollar Bill started singing.

The catastrophic possibility of Dollar Bill singing to the feds was what Maddie outlined for Bone outside courtroom B on the second floor, the circuit court level. She waited for what he would say while he shuffled around the water fountain.

“Can’t for the life of me see why they never put chairs or benches or something in the hallways,” he said, squatting beside the fountain.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What about all of this, Bone?  I’ve done handed you a wad of money. What are we going to do?”

“Not much to do while the judge still has court going on.”

She cracked the double doors to the courtroom and saw Judge John Carter Henley up in his high seat. He moved papers back and forth in front of him. Some blonde woman in a power suit was leaning up to talk to him so her calf muscles were nice and round and smooth. It made Maddie sad all over again thinking about her own stick legs and her belly pooch from drinking too much beer. Made her want something to drink right that second.

“I’ll have to sit down with him in chambers,” Bone said. He said his last word as if he were spitting something foul from his mouth.

“I need a drink or something,” Maddie said.

“You and me both.”

Maddie thought back to Bone talking about suicide when he first got there. “And what’s all this stuff about suicide?” she asked. “What the hell, Bone.”

He straightened up against the wall and slid to his feet. The wind escaped his lungs in a gush of air like it had been held captive, a secret from the rest of his body.

“I don’t know, Maddie, honey. I’m just tired is all. It drives me crazy that you probably wouldn’t be dealing with any of this if it wasn’t for that husband you got.”

“You might be right,” Maddie said. “But nobody twisted my arm, either.”

“Well, least you got something to get your blood going, even if it is worrying Dollar Bill Damron’s going to point his finger at you.” Bone’s face went still and serious. “The worse kind of life is one where they just ain’t nothing happening. It’d be nice to just strike out and head to the beach somewhere. Not Myrtle Beach. I mean a real beach. Some place like Destin, that town in Florida. You may even went past it or something on your trips down there.”

“Sonofabitch, I’m dead in the water,” Maddie hissed, more at the wall than to Bone.

The courtroom doors came open and three men tucked sideways past them. Maddie peeked in and saw a lot of movement near the bench. Bone asked the men before they rounded the corner if court was breaking and they told him the judge ordered a fifteen minute recess. He took Maddie’s elbow and leaned into her. When they were clear of the doors into the courtroom, Bone gave out a loud grunt.

“Maddie, honey, I just can’t do this for you. You already paid me, but I have to tell you that going up to the judge before Dollar Bill or whoever even mentions you is pretty much insane, no offense. You’re implicating yourself, understand?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I should’ve told you before now, but I’m in a rough place,” he said.

“You think?” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Jesus, Bone. So what am I supposed to do?”

“Go home,” he said. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground and give you a call tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to go home,” she admitted. “Let’s get something to eat or whatever.”

“Shane makes home not such a great place to be, I guess,” Bone said. “We’ll figure something out. We will.”

He turned the corner and left. The bailiff for courtroom B closed the suite doors and a quiet dropped all around Maddie.

“I don’t want to go home,” she said again in the empty hallway.

 The diagnosis was exactly the same as a month ago. The heart meds weren’t doing what they were supposed to be doing and the right coronary artery had experienced too much trauma from the heart attack. It didn’t help, the doc said, that Bone hadn’t stopped eating red meat, had continued smoking, and drank more now than he had before.

“There’s something else,” Doc Bradley said just before the appointment was over. “Your blood results showed cocaine in your system, Bone. Cocaine. Are you seriously telling me you’re using cocaine?”

“Um, yeah. I snorted a little to see what it was like. Trust me Doc, you don’t really want anything to do with coke. The results are undesirable.” Bone stopped. The look on Doc Bradley’s face was too much. He had forgotten that they blood tested him every appointment. Now the whole visit was going to be about cocaine. “Let’s chalk that one up as post-traumatic stress, what’s say, Doc? I’m just trying to get my head around this thing.”

“You are not terminal, you jack ass,” Doc said. “You’re not the walking dead. It ain’t good, I’ll say that. I won’t bullshit you. But you’re not dead.”

Bone nodded his way out of the appointment, took some ass-chewing, and left the office without having changed his views on anything. He lit a cigarette and reached under the seat and found the pint of vodka. He chased three drinks with some flat Pepsi and left the parking lot driving slow and careful.

The pay lake sat like a shined plate fifty yards or so from Route 670. Bone knew Shane would be there only a short time, fishing for bluegill to rig for bait if his net gave out fishing for cat down at the spillway. There was a window of opportunity, though, and Bone knew how to make the most of a window.

He had borrowed Casey Osborne’s truck, because Casey Osborne didn’t really give two shits if he got deep into anything. He was too far gone on meth and knew eventually he would end up in prison sooner or later. Deep tint, green-maybe-blue-maybe-black paint job, easy to forget with all the other trucks at the lake. Bone parked at the edge of the dirt parking lot and took a quick inventory of who was there. Other than Shane, only three other guys were fishing the lake. He could make that work. Tucking a row of quarters into his palm, Bone made a fist, pulled the ski mask down to his chin, and got out of the truck. Soon as his feet hit dirt, he took a dead run toward Shane. His figured if the three guys noticed who he was, it really didn’t matter. Two reasons: one, he was dying and, two, about everybody sort of wanted to see somebody beat the lights out of Shane Younce’s eyes for how he always treated Maddie.

Shane hardly had time to realize he was in something deep before Bone started popping him in the chest and shoulders and then the thighs. Hooks, jabs, a lot of punches landing everywhere except his head and face. Shane wasn’t a small guy, so he fought back some, but after about five hits to the torso he mostly lay on the ground and took the beating. Bone didn’t stop until Shane threw up, a bright yellow puddle that covered his tackle box. Once that happened, Bone took off in a sprint back to the truck. In the rearview he could see the other guys making their way over to Shane. They were smiling.

 Bone got a phone call from Maddie two days after tracking Shane down at the pay lake. She wanted to talk to him and asked that he come to her mom’s house on Rolling Branch. He saw Maddie first thing when he made it to the end of the long dirt driveway leading to the house. She waved from the porch steps and didn’t move when Bone got out of the car.

“You look more ragged than the last time I saw you,” Maggie said.

Bone sat down beside her. “Well, everything’s still making sense then.”

Maggie laughed, but it was weak and forced. She picked up his right hand and turned it over. His knuckles were skinned and raw.

“Destin,” she said.

“What?”

“Destin. Remember you were talking about heading out for a beach somewhere? Somewhere like Destin. Not Myrtle Beach.”

Bone took a pint bottle of vodka from his jacket pocket and took a long pull. “Absolutely I remember.”

“Be nice wouldn’t it?” Maggie said.

“That’s a fact.” He offered her the bottle. “So Destin. That’s what you called me about?

Maggie took his hand again and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, let me show you something before you finally finish the world’s longest ever suicide.”

Behind the house, the yard fell off in a long grassy slope. When they made it to the edge of that slope, there was another smaller one, soft and sandy, that ran straight to the river. Maggie took small steps down the sand bank and helped Bone until they both stood on flat land at the river’s edge.  

The water was usually a muddy brown, but the full afternoon sun sent flashes of white light across the surface. Maggie sat down, pulled her shoes off, and put her bare feet in the water. Bone watched the dancing light for a few more seconds and then did the same, closing his eyes so the only thing he could hear was a strong, steady current moving farther and farther and farther away.

[daebakinc]

Hero Among Thorns - Pt.3

Pairing: Hyunwoo x Reader Genre: Undercover Detective AU, Action, Romance Word Count: 2.5K Summary: When a mistaken connection results in your kidnapping by one of the city’s most notorious gangs, the undercover detective Hyunwoo has no choice but to rescue and protect you, and, most dangerously of all, fall in love with you. Warning: Mentions of violence and blood. Parts: See Masterlist for previous parts. (Sorry, but Tumblr won’t show posts with links in tag searches. 

Under Jooheon’s watchful gaze, you shuffle out of the room after you eat and take a nap. The sun’s light is weak with dusk, the electrical lights humming above your head to brighten the hallway. A television’s indecipherable buzz gets louder as you walk down the short hall, passing two closed doors. When you step into the doorway leading to the living area, the first thing you notice is how cramped it is.

 The kitchen area is small but neat and modern with slate gray walls and tiles. A short half-counter separates it from the living room. Two large couches and an armchair in a darker shade of gray than the walls and overstuffed for perfect naps encircle a widescreen television. A weights bench and stand with free range weights is tucked into the corner by the small balcony. But maybe it isn’t the furniture that makes the room seem too small. It very well could be the six men ranged about the space.

Kihyun washes dishes with his back to a dark-haired man in an oversized hoodie hunched over a bulky laptop on the counter. Lines of green numbers and letters flash across the screen in meaningless sequences. Two men sit side by side on one of the couches in jeans and old graphic T’s, both animatedly discussing the soccer match on the television. One is blond, lanky, and practically vibrating with energy from his gesticulating hands to his bouncing knee. His companion is slightly calmer but just as intent and looks like he could be gym buddies with Dwayne Johnson. Yet another man with an angelic face dominates the other couch, his legs for miles dangling off the edge of an arm as he sleeps.

Shownu, or rather Hyunwoo, you remind yourself, sits in the armchair, his eyes following the ball on the screen. He’s changed from the jeans to more comfortable sweatpants a shade lighter than his shirt. Although you don’t make a sound or move, Hyunwoo’s gaze flicks to yours.

All the air rushes from your lungs. The medication Jooheon gave you must be stronger than you thought. No way Hyunwoo’s soft smile and the way it so genuinely shines in his eyes can have that effect on you already.

Must be a side effect of the medication. Has to be.

“Guys,” Hyunwoo rises from his chair, “our guest is up.”

Mr. Muscles shoots to his feet with a disconcerting speed, his neighbor rising from his seat as well. When his sleeping friend fails to follow, Muscles nudges the sleeping one’s feet off the couch. “Come on, where’re your manners? Stand when a lady comes into the room.”

“Getting there,” the friend mumbles as he sits up. He opens one eye to glare at the offender. “You didn’t draw the short straw for dawn surveillance.”

“I’m assuming you want us to introduce ourselves?” the blond asks Hyunwoo even as he moves around the couch. With a winning smile and waving hand, he comments, “Looks like I was pretty spot on. Everything fit okay?”

You pause mid-smile. “Excuse me?”

He gives you a boyish smile of apology. “Ah, sorry, that came out weird. I’m Minhyuk. Resident mechanic and artist. I’m really good with estimating measurements so I picked up your new clothes since we hadn’t gone to your place yet. I wasn’t sure on some but-”

“Shut up before you sound like a creep,” says Mr. Muscles, laughing. He inclines his head to you in a princely nod. “Hoseok, ma’am, second-in-command of the unit. I promise we’ll do our best to make this experience as safe and painless as possible.”

The third couch resident yawns and starts to stretch. “Ditto what he said except Hyungwon, sharpshooter slash whatever the boss needs.”

“Please, don’t get up on my account,” you say, throwing out your free hand when he begins to rise. “If you had a late night, you need rest.”

Hyungwon gives you an unreadable look before turning his head towards Hyunwoo. “I like her.” He settles back into the couch, body slack but eyes alert.

Kihyun finishes drying off a hand to flick the last remaining team member lightly on the forehead. “This one’s Changkyun. Kid hacker turned good guy by our captain over there.”

Changkyun taps one more key, then turns around to give you a brief, assessing look-over. “Yo.”

“Hi,” you reply.

“By the way,” Changkyun’s eyes go to Hyunwoo. “Turns out your gym is the gym she works at.”

Something clicks in your mind as you look at Hyunwoo, mouth dropping open. “That was you!” you squeak.

Hyunwoo’s mouth pouts in confusion. “Me? I’m sure we haven’t run into each other there before-”

“No, no.” You try to wave your hand, but the sling hinders your movement. “My friend, Amy, she took a picture of you like last week or something when she saw you there. She sent me the pic because –… well, you’re hot.”

More than one of the men snickers. Hyunwoo just looks amused and shakes his head.

“Well, one more piece of the puzzle falls into place,” Hyungwon says. “Still begs the question as to why Yew made such a dramatic a move now.”

“I’d really like to know a lot of things,” you add, trying to cross your arms only to remember you can’t. “I don’t take kindly to being shot, kidnapped, and drugged.”

“None of us enjoy it either,” Kihyun says matter-of-factly. He takes your uninjured arm and steers you towards the couch. Maneuvering Minhyuk aside with a bump of his elbow, he settles you in the space previously occupied by Hoseok and sits beside you. “But we do need to debrief you about what you remember. If you don’t mind doing that now.”

Jooheon answers the question in Kihyun’s glance over your head. “Without the lab, I can’t tell if any of the drugs used on her affect memory. That is if they haven’t already disappeared from her system.”

“You mean from when I was kidnapped?” you ask.

Kihyun nods and Minhyuk adds, “Don’t leave anything out. A detail may seem insignificant, but it could be useful to us.”

Hoseok picks up the remote to turn off the television. In the sudden quiet, you feel an intensity descend over the room. You look around to find each of the occupants intent on your face, your body language. Even Changkyun closes his laptop and watches from the stool. Jooheon and Minhyuk perch on the arms of Hyungwon’s couch while Hoseok stands beside Hyunwoo’s chair. The smiles are gone, replaced with the focus of hunters.

You are very, very glad these men are on your side and not after you. With their concentrated gazes and bodies leaning towards yours, they look like bloodhounds straining on leash, ready to track their prey to the ends of the earth. And you have no doubt once they do, it’s going to be dangerous for whoever it is.

“Um,…” Your voice falters and fails. Hyunwoo gives you a small smile. The tiny encouragement helps you find your words again. “I left work by myself at one that morning—”

“You work at a medical office, not a hospital. What were you doing there so late?” Changkyun interrupts.

“Our biller’s been out helping her daughter with a new grandbaby, so we were behind with insurance claims. Yester- that day was the last day to file them. I’m the only one who knows how to do it. I had to catch up on my own work, too: ordering vaccines and supplies, filing specialist reports, etcetera. The office is a mess if I don’t.”

“Not safe for a woman to be out alone like that,” you hear Hoseok mumble.

Minhyuk attempts to get the conversation back on track. “And after you left?”

You briefly describe your path home, leaving out your pause by the ballet studio. No need to relive that or drag them through your trip down memory lane. You describe the car that almost hit you, but then everything gets hazy. In the pain of being shot, your brain had been otherwise occupied.

Closing your eyes, you try harder. “I didn’t see the faces of whoever pulled me off the ground, but… there was a guy in the car, in the backseat that they showed me to. I couldn’t see his face. He was smoking something really bitter smelling. And his arm… there was a tattoo on his forearm. The outside of it. All black. Something like a tree, maybe?”

“Which arm?” Kihyun presses.

Eyes still shut, you shift your body, placing yourself back on that street. “I was walking down the street, so the right? I guess?”

“If you saw the tattoo again, would you recognize it?”

“Maybe.”

When you open your eyes, you catch the shared look between all the men. Changkyun magically has a tablet in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. The tattoo meant something.

Changkyun turns the screen back to you. “This it?”

The photo is slightly blurry as if the camera had to zoom in from a distance. It only shows an arm, raised in the air in mid-gesture. Although the finer details of the tattoo are smudged at the distance, you recognize the twisted trunk and severe lines.

Ignoring the chill that settles in your chest, you quickly look away. “Yeah. That’s it.”

“We must have really pissed Yew off if he oversaw the job personally,” Hoseok comments, glancing down at Hyunwoo. “This would be the first sighting of him in months.”

Hyunwoo’s gaze stays on the floor. A crease etches deeper between his eyes. His hand comes to his chin, his pointer finger rubbing the skin. “Maybe one of our recent deals hit a nerve.”

You wrap your free arm around yourself. “How… how bad is this guy? You said he was some kind of gangster, right?”

“He deals in drugs, contraband, murders, humans,” Jooheon spits, the hatred in his voice surprising you. “Anything sold on this region’s black-markets, he’s had a hand in it at some point. Arms are just his newest ‘business venture’.”

“So why hasn’t he been taken down before?”

Kihyun laughs humorlessly. “He’s a bastard, but unfortunately, he’s a smart one. Always careful to never have his name on the papers or the money, kept himself small enough to hide behind the bigger fish. That is until he made an example of one of our undercover agents he caught sniffing around. Since that day, he’s been our top priority.”

You don’t dare ask if they knew the murdered officer personally or what kind of example Yew chose. From the grim look on the men’s faces, they took the loss personally.

You look at the photograph on the screen again. Even faceless, or perhaps because he is so, Yew looms more menacingly than before. You draw your legs up to rest your chin on your knees. What kind of horrors did such a monster have planned for you if Hyunwoo had not acted or if he had acted any slower. What would he have done if Hyunwoo hadn’t acted at all. Cold creeps further into your skin as the millions of horrible fates you could have met flash like a demented movie reel through your head.

“I’ll be right back,” Hyunwoo suddenly says. He walks out of the room and out of sight into the hallway. When he returns, he holds a candy pink hoodie in his arms.

Unzipping it, he lays it across your shoulders. It’s ridiculously large and hangs loosely. But it also may be the warmest, softest, most comfortable thing you’ve ever worn. “You looked cold,” he says when you give him a questioning look.

“Ex-girlfriend’s?” you impulsively ask. With an internal sigh, you remind yourself it’s none of your business. And that you shouldn’t care. Not one bit.

Hoseok lets out a bark of laughter. “Nope. His.”

“His?” Incredulous, you pick at the fabric. They really expect you to believe some badass commando secret agent owns something like this?

Then again, this is the twenty-first century. Screw gender conformity. Men look good in pink.

Hyunwoo doesn’t appear embarrassed by your tone, simply smiling. “It’s a graduation gift from my old swim team. One of the coaches use to call me a merman. The girls on the team took it a little farther.”

You stay absolutely still as he reaches out and pinches some of the fabric to show you. There, stitched in bright red thread and loopy cursive, is ‘Merman.’

“Always thought I was more of a turtle, but it’s all in good fun,” Hyunwoo adds.

“It’s cute.” You smile at the thought of little Hyunwoo, if he was ever little, surrounded by a throng of giggling girls as they present the hoodie to him.

“Thanks.”

Pulling the hoodie closer around you, you venture, “So, can I ask my questions now?”

“Sure.”

“Do you have any idea when I can go home? If you’ve investigating Yew for a while, doesn’t that mean you’ll be done soon?” Maybe with the others present, you can get a different answer.

“I already contacted both of your jobs with a story about you being injured while going home to visit your family.” Changkyun says, leaning back on his elbows against the countertop. “The documentation I included was enough to buy three months’ medical leave from your office job. After that, we’ll figure something out. The gym will cover your classes indefinitely until you’re back. Once I’ve made sure your phone and online accounts aren’t being monitored, you can contact your family. I’ll figure out a cover story for you then. Your rent will be taken care of as we go.”

He makes it sound like it was nothing. Has he done this kind of thing that often that it really is nothing for him? Your second thought is where are they getting the money from. Your place isn’t the Ritz, but nothing in this city is cheap.

Scrambling to do calculations in your head, the amount needed to cover your rent for three months at once makes you woozy. You’ll really have to live sparsely, more so than normal, but if there’s one thing you hate, it’s owing people. “Can I pay you back in installments after this is all done?”

Changkyun shakes his head and your heart sinks, only for him to say, “You don’t have to pay us back at all. Our pockets are deep for this op; we’ll add it to our expenses.”

Shit, that’s a lot of money. It makes you uncomfortable taking it. “But-”

Hyunwoo cuts you off. “Consider it compensation for testifying when we close the case.”

“I never said I’d testify,” you blurt out.

[itsclydebitches]

What if super serious silliness ensued and OZPIN was the one who started it?!

I’m a terrible prompt filler who jumped ahead in the list, but I was stuck in the airport today and wanted to write some of that silliness :D

Updated list of to-be filled prompts here 

On a particularly dreary, November morning Ozpin once watched a colleague of his pick up a vase and throw it across the room where it shattered, irreparable. The blue and white piece had been a gift from a friend two-hundred years dead, nothing more than an antique—by an unknown artist, no less—to everyone but him. His colleague apologized of course and Ozpin forgave him. Of course. Tempers had been high that day, their struggle great, and in the end he was pleased that this new friend had taken his grief out on a mere object, rather than on himself.

Still, such forgiveness didn’t stop him from clearing his then office of all other beloved mementos. As the years dragged and things like fire, grimm, or frayed tempers continued to destroy Ozpin’s tenuous links to his past, he’d eventually cleared them all away, stored in safe, secret places for him to visit when time allowed. His office became barren and if people thought that was a reflection of a cold and callous nature? Very well. Ozpin rarely had the luxury of proving them wrong. 

Today, his office held precisely four pieces of furniture: his desk, his chair, an additional chair brought out only for students… and an old-fashioned calendar hanging on the wall.

People commented on it frequently. After all, if you were going for a minimalist approach, why break it with a calendar of all things? Especially in the age where everyone kept schedules on their scrolls? The fact that it wasn’t even a particularly nice calendar seemed to throw people the most. Not that there was anything wrong with those sold in the Beacon gift shop, sporting landscape photos of the architecture and surrounding grounds, the occasional, generic headshot of a four student team. It just didn’t quite fit with the rest of Ozpin’s aesthetic.

He always smiled at those who questioned the choice, shrugged, and asked, “Why not?”

‘Why not?’ was a perfectly wonderful phrase. It left little room for further interrogation. In truth, Ozpin had grown fond of that calendar, if only because it added a spot of light to what had otherwise become a dreary room. That calendar, he thought fondly, also had the dubious pleasure of being the bane of Glynda’s existence.

“Sweet fucking dust.”

Ozpin bit hard into his lower lip, kindly not responding to her unusual choice of words. Every morning Glynda arrived with plans, notes, and any disasters that had sprung up during the night, everything a Headmaster might need to begin his day. Every morning she also took a black pen from her pocket and carefully marked another X on the calendar, right before leaving. This ensured that Glynda was always the first to see when Beacon traditions swung back around, those events helpfully written in green at the beginning of the year by her suspiciously eager boss.

Today there was just one notation, a massive exclamation point taking up the whole height of the box. Across the room, Ozpin watched Glynda’s face twitch in horror.

“Problem?” he asked. The look she shot him made it that much harder to swallow his laugh.

She didn’t respond. Glynda merely marched back to the elevator, wooden, her pallor suggesting she was a woman walking to her death. Ozpin might not have the comfort of his decorations anymore, but this calendar provided an equal—if vastly different—kind of camaraderie.

“We’ll be fine!” he called, lifting his mug in a toast just as the doors closed. Only then did Ozpin allow himself to laugh at his poor headmistresses’ plight.

Beacon’s prank week had just begun.  

***

“The alarms,” Bart said decisively, staring out the lounge window where Glynda was berating a group of students. Their shit-eating grins were visible even from this distance—as were the hundreds of utensils they’d stuck into the yard, spelling out a term not to be repeated in polite company. Bart made sure to get numerous pics of it on his scroll. “A hundred dust-infused alarm clocks hidden across the school, each set to go off at a different time during the course of the week? Simple, and yet utterly maddening. It took me forever to find that last one hidden under the floorboards of my classroom. I sometimes still think I can hear that incessant beeping…”

Peter shook his head, elbowing Bart out of the way so he could get a better look. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, old friend. The greatest prank goes to whoever set those boarbatusks loose!”

Peach set her novel aside, eyebrows raising. “Someone released grimm. Into Beacon. As a prank?”

“Ah yes. That was before you joined us.” Peter flapped a hand in her general direction. “Just young ones, my dear, just young ones. Besides, anyone here can dispatch a boarbatusk in moments! As my first year grimm studies class always demonstrates with aplomb. No, no, Pamela. The joke was in what was painted on their backs.”

Bart zipped there and back for more coffee. “We dispatched a one, a two, and a four,” he said, fingers flipping upwards with each number.

“And the three?”

“No three,” Peter chuckled. “Though we didn’t know that at the time. Looking for the supposedly illusive beast drove poor Glynda to… well.”

The three of them watched her herd the students off to class. All of them shook their heads as they went, hands raised in the universal gesture of innocence. It was a time honored tradition that any and all pranks performed during this week were to remain anonymous—and the students did a remarkable job of putting aside their pride in the name of turning their headmistress’s hair a premature gray. To this day no one knew exactly who orchestrated the alarm fiasco, let alone who managed to capture, wrangle, and set loose three boarbatusks at dawn without ever being caught out of bed. Pull aside any Beacon graduate and they’d just shake their head. Not me, good sir. I would never participate in such juvenile behavior.

Yeah. Right.

Together they watched as Glynda cut her arm sharply through the air, hundreds of forks, knives, spoons (and the occasional spork) flying in a vaguely threatening arc back towards the kitchen. With the grounds clear of creative profanity, their gaze bore down on Glynda as she briefly hung her head in her hands.  

“Poor woman,” Bart said.

“We should really do something to help her,” Peter agreed.

Peach nodded. “We are instructors after all.”

None of them moved. After a moment Bart pulled his scroll back up and started flipping through the photos. “You two want copies?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, man.”

***

“It wasn’t me,” Sage squeaked, backing up and finding that there was nowhere left to go. In her peripheral vision she spotted her team scrambling around the corner, effectively abandoning her, and she made a mental note to murder them all later. Slowly.

Glynda’s hand tightened around her riding crop. The squeak of leather was overly loud in the otherwise silent hall. “Mr. Sekoni says otherwise.”

Sage’s mouth dropped. “Florian is a liar! Er—I mean—I got the same note, ma’am. See?” Careful that she didn’t get blasted back into the wall, Sage removed the slip of paper from her bag. The message was printed on some sort of thick, fancy card-stock and smelled vaguely of old books. Sage’s note said the same thing that Florian’s had, and theirs presumably matched the rest of the school. As far as Sage could tell, whoever had pulled this prank together made sure to include a note for themselves, making it pretty much impossible to tell who’d started it. Six hours in and no one had broken their innocent act.

Whoever they were, Sage was pretty sure she loved them.

“It was slipped under our door this morning,” she whispered. “I swear.”

“And you just decided to follow these instructions, did you?”

“…Yeah. Sorry, ma’am.”

With a growl Glynda snatched the note and stalked away, no doubt off to interrogate the next unfortunate student. Sage watched her go, wobbling slightly in her black heels. She still wasn’t used to walking around in these things. The purple cape made out of her neighbor’s blanket though? Kinda made Sage feel badass.

As their headmistress stalked away four more students dressed as Glynda Goodwitch scurried to press themselves against the wall. She cast disgusted looks at their outfits and Sage, dust help her, giggled.

It was a little funny. Professor Goodwitch would realize that eventually.

Maybe.

Sage cocked her head, fixing her white blouse. What had she been doing?

Oh yeah. Murder.

***

Ozpin considered the problem before him. “It’s the sleeves,” he said, shaking his head like these students had personally offended him. Snickers turned into full-blown laughter as Ozpin retrieved four rubber-bands from his desk drawer, slipping each onto the brothers’ wrists. It helped create a puff in their sleeves and Ozpin nodded, satisfied with the result. “There, much better. Just don’t let them cut off your circulation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you will cease doing one another’s homework.”

The twins exchanged glances. “…Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” Ozpin’s smile was back. “Now take your excellent outfits and get to class. You have history this morning, yes? Better hurry. You know how Doctor Oobleck is about lateness…”

That was more than enough to set the boys in motion. They snuck into the elevator just as Glynda walked out of it—pulling at their skirts and fluffing up their newly detailed sleeves. They gave her a salute, using a ruler and wooden spoon in lieu of riding crops.

Kids now safely out of her reach, Glynda turned her wrath on Ozpin instead. “Don’t you dare encourage them in this.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry in the least. “They did such a good job on those costumes though. Surely you’re flattered…?”

“Flattered!” Glynda went to the calendar and viciously marked off the previous day. “In twenty-four hours I have cleaned up the front grounds—twice—been bombarded with calls from people wishing to buy Beacon because someone listed us on some advertising site for, and I quote, ‘The special one time price of five lien!’—” Behind her Ozpin choked. “I have dealt with a school-wide sleepover in the dining hall at 3:00am, the fifty pizzas that someone ordered to arrive during my class, and have had the supposed pleasure of watching everyone on campus attempt to mimic my wardrobe. Even Bart is dressing up now. And it’s only been one day!”

Ozpin knew from long experience that it was best to just let Glynda rant herself out. He made appropriate, sympathetic noises whenever she paused for breath and hid his humor behind many long sips of coffee. By the time she’d shared all pertinent info—including a comprehensive list of everyone who’d attended the sleepover, something Ozpin planned to “lose” very quickly—Glynda was marginally less red in the face and Ozpin had given his word that he wouldn’t suddenly show up in heels and a purple lined cape.

…though he’d had his fingers crossed behind his back when he said as much. Ozpin liked to keep his options open.

Because yes, it was a time honored, Beacon tradition that during prank week no one gave up who’d crafted, planned, and executed any of the madness. It was a gesture of solidarity… and easy enough to do. Given that only a handful of pranks over the years had actually originated from the student body. The rest…

Ozpin chuckled. Glynda gone, he seated himself before his laptop and pulled up his plans for today. Setting up those utensils and delivering instructions to every student’s room had been easy enough, especially with his speed. Fifty pizzas? Hardly put a dent in his fortune and his students always needed to eat. The sleepover had just been a rumor taking on a life of its own—beautifully—and Ozpin had listed Beacon for sale on a total whim during lunch. Really, Glynda should have been suspicious given that whoever uploaded the listing had access to her private scroll number.

He’d never meant to pick on Glynda specifically… but now that he’d started, it seemed rather a shame to stop.

“What now, what now,” Ozpin murmured, toying with his options. It wouldn’t do to be too hasty.

His eyes strayed to his calendar and yes, Ozpin smiled. After all, there were still six days left in the week.

[elmomachete]

Wrestlemania XXXV Predictions.

Yeah, yeah, they don’t use the Roman numerals anymore. They don’t even use regular numerals. Humor me, it’s out of habit. I actually watched most of NXT Takeover last night, mostly live. I’m still not entirely sold on Blackochet or Matt Riddle, but the War Raiders and Velveteen Dream are the tittyballs and so were both matches. I fell asleep during the UK Championship match and intended to finish the show this morning, but then the results were spoiled for me by Cageside Seats in article headlines. Weak sauce, gentlemen. The weakest of sauces. Oh well, I’ll finish the show eventually. Anyway, with a 42 match card, the pre-show is liable to start any minute now so I better get these predictions up before all the poor souls in New Jersey (I’m sorry, I meant “New York”) start freezing their asses off. Let’s get prognosticating, shall we? Fabulous Moolah Memorial Women’s Battle Royale Totally not promoting human trafficking since 2018. Who won last year, Naomi? It’ll be tough to live up to those standards. I’ll go with Lacey Evans as the winner, because I’m sure that makes sense as a payoff to her coming out, doing nothing, turning around and walking to the back in Crazy Uncle Vinny’s mind. It’d be nice to give Asuka something after her seemingly random dethroning, but Lacey seems more predictably random. Cruiserweight Championship: Tony Nese vs. Buddy Murphy (c.) 205 Dead Crowd. I watched the Cruiserweight match from the Rumble pre-show the other day, and Buddy Murphy seems like a pretty good wrestleperson. Let’s say he retains, because he’s marrying Alexa Bliss and the company still loves her even though she’ll probably never wrestle again. Andre Roussimoff Memorial Battle Royale (ARMBaR) Just look what it did for Mojo Rawley! How can they make up for having Braun Strowman win the tag titles with a ten year old last year? Have him feud with two schmucks from Saturday Night Live so WWE can end up on a legitimate sports program the next morning! So either he wins, or after he eliminates the aforementioned schmucks he eliminates himself and chases them to the back leaving it open for (randomly points at list of entrants with eyes closed) Curtis Axel to win. Side thought: I think next year they should bring back Nicholas and rehire Matt Striker, putting them against the Bar, the Usos and the New Day. Striker can tutor the kid on the road, and putting them over the entire division will really solidify Nicholas’ legacy as an undefeated two-time tag team champion. Raw Tag Team Championships: Zack Ryder and Curt Hawkins vs. the Revival (c.) The Battle of the WWE Random Name Generator Recipients! ...good lord, they’re actually giving the Edgeheads a Mania match? For the titles? I know the belts don’t matter and that maybe a dozen people give a rat’s ass about both teams combined, but still - Ryder and Hawkins’ whole shtick is that they never win. That ALWAYS gets over. So obviously they have to win here to get their “Wrestlemania Moment,” in their “home state” of “New York.” Smackdown Tag Team Championships: Nakamusev vs. the Bar vs. Blackochet vs. the Usos (c.) Aren’t I so witty with my portmanteau tag team names? I’m glad Wikipedia exists to not only tell me all 107 matches, but to remind me that yes, the Usos are tag champs again. What with them losing in Brooklyn, I expect Black and Ricochet to win the titles to start off their big show (no, not that one) debut with a bang and to finally tie them to Smackdown instead of Raw. they’ll have better matches on that show anyway. Or the Usos retain because they’re related to the Rock, who cares. Shane McMahon vs. the Miz Because Super Shane needs to get his annual hyperventilating stunt show in. God bless the Miz, he may be the best company man since John Cena for doing whatever stupid shit they come up with for him. Case in point: this fucking match. Does anyone besides Shane or Vince give two shits about this? Logic says the Miz wins because he’s (somehow) the babyface, so I’ll say Shane wins and the Miz’s dad hugs him afterwards because even though his son main evented Wrestlemania and defeated John Cena (there he is again) and got married to a smokin’ hot model and had a kid, NOW he’s finally proud of him because he put up a valiant effort against the 50 year old son of the owner of the company. Women’s Tag Team Championships: the IIconics vs. Nia Jax and Tamina vs. Beth Phoenix and Natalya vs. the Boss n’ Hug Connection (c.) Who’s got the worse name, the Australians or the champions? I guess Trish and Lita said no, so they dusted Beth Phoenix off and pretend she’s important enough to justify her Hall of Fame induction. Nia and Tamina suck, Billie and Peyton don’t matter, Beth won’t be around the next day and I can’t see them changing the titles so soon after creating them. Bayley and Sasha retain. Kurt Angle vs. Baron Corbin John Cena Oh, shut up. You know it’s going to happen. Cena beats up Corbin on the way to the ring, spouts some jargon about hustling respect loyally, he drags Angle through three minutes of suck hoping he doesn’t accidentally kill him, somebody wins and they both go away. (Flips a coin) Cena wins, LOL. AJ Styles vs. Randy Orton Fighting because reasons! Um... let’s say AJ wins, because Orton is a made man and they wanna thank AJ for not leaving for All Elite Wrestling (what a terrible name). Christ, how many pointless matches could they trim to make this a show of reasonable length? Not everybody needs a Wrestlemania payday... do those even exist anymore with the Network? United States Championship: Rey Mysterio vs. Samoa Joe (c.) I’ve got nothing sarcastic to say about this match, I’m actually looking forward to it somewhat. Rey Mysterio can still go, and although people say Joe has lost a step since coming to WWE I’m actually a bigger fan of him now than ever. I think he’s benefited a lot from having to tone it down and only do two or three big spots in matches as opposed to a billion, although whether that’s due to the restrictions of the “WWE Style” or age/injuries is up for debate (I felt the same about Cesaro slowing it down going from Ring of Honor to WWE). Rey can survive a loss here and I think they wanna get as much out of Joe while they still can, so he retains. WWE Championship: Kofi Kingston vs. the New Daniel Bryan (c.) Remember when the “World” title wasn’t likely to be in the middle of the show? As much as I’d hate to see the Hempyweight Championship belt go (and no matter what it’ll eventually have to), I think the crowd would riot if Kofi didn’t win. So I reckon Kofi wins, then Big E. and Xavier turn on him right afterwards to piss the crowd off right after throwing them a bone. Y’know what? I think it would be interesting to see a riot at a wrestling show. Fans have threatened it with signs ever since Cena vs. Van Dam, but we’ve never actually seen one. It’d certainly be a “Wrestlemania Moment.” Roman Reigns vs. Drew McIntyre Yay, Roman’s back! And he’s not in the main event again! Yet! I’m as glad as anyone that Reigns seems to have beaten leukemia, but the entire feud with Drew seems like something they threw together at the last minute because they didn’t expect him to come back so soon. I can never tell if they’re behind Drew or not, they seem to change their minds every other week. Roman wins, obviously, then probably goes right back into the Universal title picture. Triple H vs. Batista The epic final battle between Drax the Destroyer and whatever Triple H’s character was called in Blade 3. I’m interested in this match due to sheer sideshow curiosity. Big Dave hasn’t wrestled in however long, and last time Hunter wrestled he ripped a titty off his chest in the beginning of the match. I have enough faith that’ll it be something watchable at least, Triple H’s match with Angle and Rousey was good last year. Batista wins and rides off into the sunset, and Trips “retires” for about a year. Let’s give it a year and a half if we’re being generous. Universal Championship: Seth Rollins vs. Brock Lesnar (c.) Prediction for number of German suplexes: 11. Now this one is a sticky wicket. On the one hand, it’d be nice to have the Rumble winner, y’know, win, and have someone with the belt who’ll be around every week. On the other hand, I’m sure Vince is already salivating over the thought of Roman conquering the unstoppable once every four months onslaught of Brock Lesnar. On the THIRD hand, they did make a t-shirt for Rollins that says “Beastslayer” which would be completely pointless to peddle at shows if he lost. I’ll go out on a limb and pick Lesnar, but whoever wins is getting Roman as a challenger  Intercontinental Championship: Finn Balor vs. Bobby Lashley (c.) Can we get this show over with already? I’m already bored just writing about it. The Demon wins back the title that he just lost for no reason a few weeks ago, Lio Rush probably gets beat up and the crowd continues to go mild for Bobby Lashley. Next. Women’s Championship, winner takes all: Becky Lynch vs. Charlotte Flair (c., Smackdown) vs. Ronda Rousey (c., Raw) Becky. Becky, Becky, Becky. Wait, I have to say something other than that about the match? The build for this has been all over the place. Becky taps to Asuka at the Rumble, then takes Lana’s spot to win the Rumble match itself. Becky’s suspended, but she’s on every show anyway. Then she’s not suspended, she and Ronda break the fourth wall on Twitter, Charlotte replaces Becky, then she wins the Smackdown belt from Asuka and it’s a triple threat, and my God I think I’ve gone cross eyed. Who wins will really depend on where they place this match on the card. I know they’ve said it’ll be the “main event,” and if it truly goes on last then they’d be insane not to give it to Becky. I’ve been trying to reasonably predict the order in which the matches will take place. BUT... we all know WWE has been saying double main event, triple main event, whatever for years. If it DOESN’T go on last, it’s probably gonna be Charlotte. She’s already beaten Trish’s record for number of Women’s title reigns, and lord knows WWE wants to make her seem like the best at everything due to her name. I’ll (perhaps foolishly) put all my chips on Becky, but won’t be surprised in the least if it’s Charlotte. Oh yeah, Ronda’s in the match too. How ‘bout that. *whew* So yeah, sixteen matches on what’s liable to be a seven hour show. I’m likely to watch it in spurts, because A) my TV is always at the risk of being hijacked by a six year old, and 2) I’m going to fall asleep if I try to watch it all in one shot. I won’t be drinking, because I’d rather fall asleep due to boredom rather than alcohol consumption this year. I almost don’t want the women’s match to go last, because the crowd will be fucking exhausted by then. Of the sixteen matches, I’m confident about half will be good. So there’s that. We’ll have a couple overblown entrances, some forced “Wrestlemania Moments,” the possibility for an entertaining car wreck or two, maybe an Undertaker appearance. This is the first year though where I’m sort of dreading the Grandest Stage of the Showcase of the Immortally Ultimate Thrill Ride in twenty years of fandom, and that’s pretty disheartening. That Takeover sure was something though, wasn’t it?

[survivor-guyana]

Immunity Results #3

Meet Your Judges!

DAN

Hi sisters, it’s Dan, king of half faced selfies, here to roast your lip syncs

NEHE

Hi sisters, it's Nehemiah, king of not winning a game he deserves to win, here to judge you guys like you never been judged before, p.s Tim stop stealing my role as the one straight black guy in the org community

CHARLOTTE

hi sisters, i’m back from the dead and ready to roast some bitches. i honestly don’t remember if i’ve played more than one main season but i was in kuang si and really that’s the only one that matters. not sorry!

CONNOR

hey sisters, hope you missed me because im still not coming back.

DENNIS

Hi sisters, I was forced to write this start. But entertain me

JESS

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him-and I didn't know how potent that part might be-that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

HOSORORO

Dan: 31/50

Theme: 5 - No real theme tbh, I guess the editing incorporated some nice colors and stuff. I wish y'all could have been more in sync with a theme tho. Maybe I'm just being critical.

Creativity: 5 - The editing was creative, I liked the effects and the added little bits that went along with the lyrics. I think the difference between this video and the others tho was that the others tried something new and exciting to spice up their videos. Was it more creative? Maybe? There's nothing wrong with picking a bop and lip syncing, but it's 2019 ladies, spice it up.

Effort: 7 - She may have bought that hair, but y’all yanked it right off. I think some of you really tried harder than others, but I stan when people just do their best and record where and when they can. It shows dedication and I like that shit. I think that the effort into learning the lyrics without reading them off the screen and dedication to filming in the car kind of showed y'all want this.

Composition: 7 - BITCHHHHH I’M GAGGGGGT. It’s 240p, but honestly Ariana Grande who? Whoever edited this made it seemless, but honestly the low quality needs to get clocked a few points.

Entertainment Value: 7 - The dancing, the outfits, the lip sync skills? A bitch was entertained. While the other videos tried to make things new and exciting, y'all delivered what I think of as more of a successful project.

Jess: 34/50

Theme 8/10. If I had to say the theme, I'd guess that it's "bad bitches" which you all are.

Creativity 5/10. If a 0 is 1 person playing basketball instead of lip syncing at all, and a 10 is a full out choreographed dance number done by your entire tribe, I think this falls solidly in the middle. I don't think there is a lot about this that sets it apart from past music videos I've seen, but I don't think it is bad.

Effort 8/10. It seems like most of your tribe members were at least majorly involved and tried to make this good! And you all put effort into the dancing/attitude you had, it felt like everyone tried to match their actions to the song.

Composition 6/10. I think the editing is good and it matches the timing of the music which is nice, the cuts are usually on the beats! But it did get a little repetitive after a while, like I felt as though the same thing was happening throughout the whole video and there wasn't a variety in the images/cutting style/etc. I also think it was hard to tell if the video was in sync because for some reason y'all are in 2007 and only uploaded this at 240p???? Are you guys all over the age of 45 why did you do that. Finally, the flickering glitter filter was cool at the start, but I wish you'd spiced it up and not just used that throughout the entire video, also at points it was a little distracting due to the bright colours that would pop up.

Entertainment Value 7/10. Six of these points are for the girl who was in the car because she was killing it and I loved her. I took points off for a similar reason I had above -- it felt like the video was one note and I wish you guys had a little more variety throughout.

Dennis: 38/50

Theme: 6/10 Creativity: 8/10 Effort: 8/10 Composition: 8/10 Entertainment: 8/10

I know I will get alot of hate comments for this, but this in general is not really a song to lipsync too. EITHER WAY I think you did a good pretty good job with it. All of you seemed to enjoy yourself and the editing was enough to keep my attention throughout the whole video. I didn't really get the theme, but overall it was a very entertaining Lipsync!

Connor: 35/50

Ok this is good. You clearly all worked together artistically so that your individual shots were coherent. Im not crazy about the pink strobe kinda thing going on through the entire video but you were all performing and this is well done. Theme: 7 Creativity: 6 Effort: 8 Composition: 7 Entertainment Value: 7

Charlotte: 42/50

Theme:  IF THE THEME WAS FABULOUSNESS YOU ACHIEVED IT. ARIANA WOULD BE PROUD.  8/10

Creativity:  I feel like you could have done a little bit more with some of the lyrics but all in all I loved this video and now I'm just being picky. 7/10

Effort:  See above. I think you could have done a little but more but keeping the pink aesthetic through your editing and ALL THAT DANCING werk werk werk.   8/10

Composition:  Love. That. Aesthetic. 10/10  PLUS YOU'RE ALL IN THE SAME CAMERA ORIENTATION I LOVE THAT. LOVE THAT FOR YOU.

Entertainment Value:  FUN, ENJOYABLE, FLAWLESS, NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE. 9/10

Nehe: 44/50

7 8 9 10 10

Now this is a fucking music video work bitches work

TOTAL: 224

ARAKAKA

Dan: 29/50

Theme: 7 - Annoying advertisements? Trying to show the effects of product placement on our every day life? I loved it haha I was shook.

Creativity: 6 - V creative, but was it really a music video? I guess parts were but I also was like so lost after a while. I think song choice is always important and I was so bored during the song parts. I wish you had made the song part as creative as the ad parts.

Effort: 4 - Honestly the effort was misfocused on the ads and less on the music video, was I mad about it? only like 50%. the song was boring and just kinda blah so it was interesting

Composition: 5 - Choppy, but I can’t edit so rip

Entertainment Value: 7 - Honestly this how to video taught me so much and I’m shook. THE POPCORN I LITERALLY SCREAMED. While I nodded off during the music video portion, I stanned the ads

Jess: 32/50

Theme 6/10. I think your theme was ads? I didn't really understand it but it was fun and unique.

Creativity 8/10. I have never seen anything like this that's for sure.

Effort 4/10. It seemed like everyone in your tribe was in the video I think? But most of the stuff you guys submitted was 1 take/shot and wouldn't have required a lot of editing, which is the most time consuming/effort requiring portion of the challenge so...

Composition 5/10 The editing of the commercials was pretty good, but it didn't flow as well as it should have because the audio levels were a bit all over the place. Also at one point it was in colour and out of focus but I wasn't sure why? Also a+ for doing your video in 1080p (@ other tribes take note). Since the actual music video portion was just one shot, I feel like I can't really give you a higher rating than the other tribes in this category.

Entertainment Value 9/10 First frame: a guy in a Stitch onesie with a bottle of tequila and a mug that says "ray of fucking sunshine"?? I laughed immediately. Then I was shook when later I realized it was actually a shot glass and was close to the camera and it got even better. This whole video was wild and I had no idea what was going to happen so I was pretty entertained.

Dennis: 45/50

Theme: 8/10 Creativity: 10/10 Effort: 8/10 Composition: 9/10 Entertainment: 10/10

This is probably the last kind of video which I expected in a challenge like this. I think it was really creative and connected entertainment with comedy and a nice little theme. I am very impressed good job!

Connor: 20/50

“””””Acting””””””” “””””””Edgy”””””””” Eggs?? Im vegan. What was the point of this? Was there a point? Pop corn girl gets you an extra point but this is not a music video. To quote bandersnatch, you chose the wrong path.

Theme: 3 Creativity: 6 Effort: 4 Composition: 4 Entertainment Value: 3

Charlotte: 34/50

Theme:  I've been out of the ORG world for awhile but is this what music videos are now??? I feel like the music video of your video was sorely lacking. YouTube loves ads but not that many!!!!! I did think the ads were pretty creative though so I marked up points for that below. 6/10

Creativity: See above. 9/10

Effort:  It wasn't just straight up lip syncing so I gotta reward you guys for that. 8/10

Composition: That black and white switching to color towards the end got me fucked up. 6/10

Entertainment Value:  To quote the person sitting beside me: "OMG another ad?"Cute concept, not sure it works as a music video but you tried.  5/10

Nehe: 35/50

6

6

6

7

10

Honestly this was something i never seen before and i enjoyed it hahaha

TOTAL: 195

TAKAMA

Dan: 26/50

Theme: 6 - Cats? Bikes? Awkward White People Dancing? Are these the themes you went for? If so, y’all killed it haha, but it wasn't cohesive and I don't get what y'all were going for really.

Creativity: 5 - honestly, I stan an original song choice bc I haven’t seen this before, but also, a song like this needs to be sold and I don't know if y'all pulled out all the stops. I would have liked to see more passion from some of you in the props and theatrics department.

Effort: 5 - Some of you seemed to try a little harder than others, but overall y’all were feelin it

Composition: 5 - A little choppy, but I can’t edit for shit so like good job?

Entertainment Value: 5 - Okay Miss Tim with that bike balance, idk your name sis (maybe Jones) but striped sweater, pm me on skype – dan.disbrow so I can buy it ty. Other than that I don't really remember much besides a lot of cringey dancing.

Jess: 29/50

Theme 1/10. Tbh I don't really know what the theme was here, did you guys forget this category??

Creativity 4/10. Pretty much the same reason that I gave Hororo's tribe a 5, I'm giving you a 4. I am taking one point off because they at least did some stuff to make their video more unique/specific to their song whereas I think you guys could have used this editing style/dancing/etc to any song and it would have also worked, so it wasn't super unique.

Effort 9/10. Everyone who was in the video seemed really into it and did a good job having fun! But this is a 6 person tribe... one person wasn't in it and they weren't the editor?? You should vote them out if you lose.

Composition 9/10. The editing flowed well, you showed everyone on the tribe a pretty decent amount, and everyone's individual videos were pretty on point for lip sync? Usually when people film on their webcams it's not in sync, but these were all really good! You lose one point because the video quality was low and wasn't 1080p which it really should be.

Entertainment Value 6/10. I liked everyone's attitude and dancing and I loved the cats. I originally had 5 but then I remembered the cats and went back and added another point. But I wish you guys had done something unique for each mini song, like maybe divided them up amongst your tribe, or had people change outfits or something? If you had done that, I'd have given you way more points for theme and entertainment value. But because it was kind of repetitive/one note, it's hard to say I was REALLY entertained the whole time.

Dennis: 37/50

Theme: 9/10 Creativity: 7/10 Effort: 8/10 Composition: 7/10 Entertainment: 6/10

Comment: What stood out for me in your video was the theme. I assume that you wanted to mimic the fans v faves theme with a riff off and I thought that was actually quite smart. Everything else seemed to be for me what I would expect from a lipsync, but besides the theme nothing that stood out to me especially.

Connor: 27/50

The lip sinking is a little off at times (im coming back to this part, in the middle / two ish minute point-on it is not good) and I think the transitions from song to songs could have been smoother, but I think this is creative in terms of it being a mashup. I think there could have been more “music video” aspects to it. In addition to y’all singing. EXTRA POINT FOR THE CATS ( stripped sweater??? who is this??? Queen????)

Theme: 5 Creativity: 6 Effort: 6 Composition: 4 Entertainment Value: 6

Charlotte: 28/50

Theme: Was your theme Pitch Perfect? Like, I'm not sure whether or not there was anything you guys planned out but it really just seemed kind of randomly thrown together.  5/10

Creativity: I liked the cats? 6/10

Effort: See above. I feel like y'all just kind of threw this together? It was missing something for me. The person in the stripes pulled it together for you though so 7/10

Composition: Y'all really out here in 2019 not filming in the same orientation? I'm deducting 50% for that. It's a travesty. Also, if one person does a filter and no one else does, does it really make sense? IDK.  3/10

Entertainment Value: ... again, I liked the cats. Plus the stuff with the bicycle was weirdly entertaining.  7/10

Nehe: 31/50

TOTAL: 178

Thank you judges!

That means, Takama, I will be seeing you that tribal council on January 28 at 10 pm est.

[ninjakitty15]

Chapter 6: The Plot Thickens (Loki X OFC Pairing)

"Loki, have you seen Nell, she's not in her room," a voice on the outside of Loki's room called in, waking me up from my much needed sleep curled up next to him.

"Tell him I'm not here," I whispered.

"You know he could just have that automated voice system Friday tell him you're here," Loki mused next to, already wide awake and apparently reading something while he waited for me to wake.

I groaned and buried myself deeper under the covers. "No Nell esta aqui!"

"As far as I'm aware, no one here is Hispanic, especially not Loki, nice try though," Tony responded.

"Chingate," I cursed and begrudingly pulled myself up into a sitting position. "Whaddaya want?"

"Breakfast is ready, I'm told you favor pancakes which lucky for you are the main dish so hurry up before Thor and Clint eat them all."

"Pancakes you say?" I perked up, "Why didn't you start with that?" I didn't even care that I couldn't find my own shirt as I grabbed one of Loki's long green ones that sufficiently covered what I didn't feel like flashing to the team. Loki himself grabbing a tunic and leisure pants before leading me out of his room to where the smell of much needed food teased my senses. I could feel at least one pair of eyes on me and what I was wearing and all I did in turn was arch an eyebrow in challenge.

"Getting a bit cozy with Loki, I see," mused Nat, offering me bacon as I snatched a stack of pancakes.

I shrugged and drenched everything in maple syrup. "I've only known him less than a week and if anything were to happen to him, I'd kill everyone in this building and then myself."

Tony choked on his screwdriver drink while Nat just laughed at my declaration. "Is that even possible? I mean I looked at your dna samples and you weren't wrong, it matches a dead body's sample exactly, nothing to suggest it came from someone that can still walk and think and live. You can't kill something already dead."

"Medically speaking, you are correct, but they say there's more than one way to skin a rabbit."

"I thought it was a cat," Clint piped up.

"No one's skinning cats as long as I'm still moving."

"So how does one end something already dead?" Tony spoke up.

"For most things you simply destroy it, just remember, what is dead can never die."

"Settle down there, Yara," teased Clint.

"Go on and make me, Euron," I retorted.

"Why am I Euron?"

"Theon wouldn't treat me that way."

"How many of you necromancers are there?" interrupted Tony.

"Not as much as there were before I was caught," I replied glumly. "We're becoming  the next Siberian tigers, if we reach white rhino status we're fucked."

"Is it just the ability to cheat death and create your own army that would make you a good hunting target?"

I shrugged and finished my breakfast. "They certainly have a certain appeal, could be any number of reasons why we're sought after."

"You said nothing would come of them taking stuff from you, I'm just thinking, if I couldn't steal what makes you a necromancer to use myself, my next plan of action would be to somehow make you do it for me since the power stays in you and only you."

I arched an eyebrow, not a bad point there. I looked over at Loki who was probably thinking the same thing.

"Your friend said they were found as husks, shells empty of everything. Do you think they did that on purpose or maybe were forced into it?" he asked me quietly.

"That makes more sense than the theory I came up with before where they burnt themselves out to make them inaccessible even in death. They could've just gutted themselves with their blades to do that."

"Hydra are many things," noted Nat. "And mess many things up, but they know how to make a person bend to their will."

"I know about Steve's super soldier boyfriend, Bucky and how he was brainwashed by them. I don't know if that would work on us, if it's how I think they do it, it wouldn't work on me."

"How do you think they do it?"

"Rewrite your past in your mind so the memories that come up are edited to fit them as the good guys and their enemies as the bad guys."

"And that won't work because..."

"A lot of my past has already been erased from me, it was part of a deal to gain more power, I had to sacrifice something of myself to get it. I don't remember any of my family, they in turn don't know I even exist, they can't be used against me if we don't know each other. Imagine the bad guys finding my mom and threatening to kill her and we just look at each other like we literally just met, kinda kills the mood...pun intended."

"So brainwashing is more or less out of the equation then. Would there be another way to control a necromancer?"

"It would depend on the necromancer I guess. One thing I can tell you though is that no matter what you do to us to make us bend, the dead don't have to listen or respond. You also need to have a lot of power to make the dead do your bidding if they don't want to. For instance, if you were in a Jewish community and asked if anyone wants to fuck up some Neo Nazis, you'd have an army larger than China. But if you were in say Texas and asked who wants to march for the Pride Parade and fight for equal rights, you'd have barely enough corpses to make a difference and youd need more power, more effort to raise more when they've already voted no."

"You're saying they aren't just mindless corpses doing what they're told then," Nat spoke up.

"The living are far better puppets than the dead, its all about physics here, a body alive, in motion can keep going in motion in any direction, a body in rest prefers to stay in rest." That's when something clicked in my head again. "That's why they were burnt out dead, they were forced to do what Hydra wants but none of the dead wanted to follow..."

"Hydra as I understand them, don't usually take no for an answer and probably just made the necromancers suffer more till they were all used up. Did they do anything like that to you?" Loki asked.

"They seemed to think pain was the best way to break me, no one else thought to ask nicely in the five fucking years they had me."

"They had you for five years but you mentioned to Strange that there were missing ones before you were even caught. To me that sounds like they gave up on using up necromancers that didn't give them the results they wanted and focused on you and how to get you to do their will since you didn't burn out like the others."

That for some reason gave me chills. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Oh and once again I've become the sloppy second. What else is new? There's still the issue of a turncoat among them too. I told one person I would be flying back from England, I didn't even tell her which airline or what time it landed so in the extremely unlikely event she was the rat that sold me out, she still wouldn't have known where to find me. Someone had to have kept tabs on me or my aliases and sold me out and I want to know who."

"Could it have been another necromancer? Someone that wants you out of the group or jealous of your power?" offered Loki beside me.

"Outing another death mage isn't unheard of but its usually downhill for the rat bastard that does it. The dead are always watching, if they see something unfavorable like a backstabbing they'll be less likely to follow the one with the knife which means more effort is needed to get an army going. You need to have a lot of strength and power to force your will upon things that would rather stay still than help you. Imagine trying to wake up a hungover teenager for school who's clearly not over their rebellious streak and has no friends to look forward to there. Then amplify that by like a 100. Necromancy is a natural form of magic and to wield any kind of magic there must be a flow to it, natural magic requires you go with the flow rather than force it the way you want it to work."

"So whoever did it to you, they are either pretty strong or pretty worn out and probably not in the habit of wielding their magic unless necessary."

"Could be either or, I might be among the most powerful but that doesn't mean everyone else is at level one here, hell they could even be my level in the time ive been locked away, lots can happen in five years."

"How does one get to your level exactly?"

"There's certain tests you need to pass with flying colors, a sacrifice to prove you're all or nothing for it, the bigger and more meaningful the sacrifice the more power you're likely to get."

"Who or what determines all this? You make it sound like you don't just get it yourself."

"I didn't and I can't answer that question either, it disturbs the natural order. If you don't know then you aren't meant to know unless something decides otherwise."

Everyone including Loki was quiet for a moment, absorbing what I had told them before Tony spoke up. "What kinda tests?"

"A situation or scenario happens that determines if you can handle yourself and your surroundings, you don't know its a test until probably much later if at all but it happens regardless. You can't prepare for it either, either accept or fail."

"Are people just randomly chosen or is there some sort of telltale sign?" asked Nat suddenly more interested.

"You ever see things, hear things as a kid, things you were certain of being there but no one believed you when you told them?"

She was silent for a moment, probably attempting to recall that far back before shaking her head. "Not that I can recall."

"Then probably not for you, it starts with being an open mind and a clean slate as a kid and not letting anything or anyone put doubt in you. That's the problem though init, a child sees a sad wailing women at the foot of her bed and usually they go running to their parents in fear, parents come in, say theres nothing there because most of the time adults can't see them regardless and eventually the child starts to listen to their parents over the clearly upset woman that just wants to be listened to herself. Tony probably isn't compatible, those with too much knowledge leave little room for the possible but improbable, scientists usually are."

"What about your lover beside you?" asked Tony. "A god itself is possible but improbable and he wields magic as well."

I turned to Loki curiously. "What did you see when we were fighting Hydra the other day?"

"What you mortals would call zombies? What else would I see?"

I studied him for a moment, curious if he was bluffing or not as he was still very much a God of Lies. "You might be a wildcard on this. You sure that's all you saw?" He nodded stiffly. "Tell me if that changes at any point."

"What else would he have seen?" asked Nat.

I beckoned her to come closer and leaned into her ear. "The dead comes in more than one form, spirits are always nearby, everyone has a few at least. Victims, loved ones, depends on the person."

"What was he supposed to see then?"

"They told me to take his hand when he put himself between me and Strange and they collected the spirit of an agent that almost shot me down on the battlefield."

"They can do that?" she asked louder and pulling away from me.

"If poltergeists can wreak havoc in someone's home, a bunch of vengeful spirits can get even with the one that outed them first."

"Why wouldn't they do that beforehand though?"

"They didn't have me."

"You give them their vengeance," Tony started.

"I give them what would bring them peace, they linger as their bodies rot for a reason. The sad wailing woman isn't whining for attention like some teenage drama queen, she's hurt and needs closure. The ghosts linger because there's unfinished business and I'm their business woman for the job, except unlike the psychics and mediums of today's age, I do it for free and not for entertainment purposes."

"So if someone got wind you can commune with the dead and wanted to know something about their deceased what would you do?"

"Tell em to bugger off unless in that moment their deceased makes an entrance, I'll relay a message only that person would've known about and then tell em to bugger off and let the dead rest. They'll get the same kind of response as a misogynistic man telling me to smile, I'm not here for your entertainment so you can kiss the southbound end of a northbound horse."