#now it's time for me to replace all the names in all my published chapters lol

[ohtobelovedbyme]

"What do you think of me?" | yjh [ch3]

Pairing: YJH x Reader

Genre: best friend’s brother to lovers (or something), FLUFF, romcom, office setting, yjh and his sister are nepo babies

Summary (this chapter basically goes like this): you: just trying to survive internship hell jeonghan: what if i grabbed ur wrist and whispered in ur ear while drunk also jeonghan: accidentally falls on you and passes out while BTS plays in the background also also jeonghan: “what do you think of me?” update: he stole the can you drank on and now you think he’s wearing your same, exact perfume. chat, is this normal behavior?

A/N: FINALLY DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER AHHH. I was planning on publishing this and ch4, but I figured you guys would want to read this first cause it's been 3 days (?) now 😭😭

Teaser | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 3

By 3:17 PM, you had already run out of your post-its, remaining patience, and reasons to live. Since last week, your seniors have been dumping all their work onto the interns. Your group chat, named “Corporate Work Trauma,” had more than 99 unread messages, either from interns begging the other to help them complete their work or wishing that your seniors would magically get fired and be replaced by more responsible people.

Just as you were about to complete your final assignment for today, you hear the sound of that stupid humming again.

“Intern! I’ll be needing your help with some of the materials for tomorrow.” Manager Kang, from a completely different department, walked over with urgent footsteps and dropped a stack of documents on your desk.

You just stared at it blankly. Manager Kang then cleared his throat, as if to say, “Oh, don’t worry. That will only take you 5 minutes.”

“Just flag me what’s urgent on e-mail, and I’ll get to it as soon as possible,” you looked up with the smiliest and politest face you’ve ever worn, but anyone who knew you would know that you were on the verge of either killing Manager Kang or breaking down.

“Great attitude,” he said, walking away.

“What an ass,” you muttered under your breath. You couldn’t hold it in, but you didn’t want to get fired either.

It was petty, yeah, but so was this day. And the day before that. And the day before yesterday.

From his office, Jeonghan looked up from his monitor. He looked around the room, and all the lights were turned off except for the intern area. 

This usually happens every time the company hires new interns. A “rite of passage,” they called it. A hazing, he’d say. Usually, those seniors would get a serious talking to by the rest of the management, but this was just for formality since, well, those same people also do the same thing.

Jeonghan scrunched his nose just at the thought of how many interns quit last year. He did try to help them, albeit only those in his department. He only heard about those assholes from those adjacent departments that dumped tasks onto his interns and made them do their work when two of them quit. From then on, he banned other departments from casually coming in and out of his department. But I guess this happened again, since the interns right now have been staying late in the office for three days straight.

He finally stood up and went out of his office to tell the interns to go home for the night and to report to him about who was making them work and what they were assigned to do.

“Hey.” 

You blinked up from your monitor, staring. Joenghan’s voice was low and effortless, like it was just another thought passing through the room.

The rest of the interns did the same and asked him if there was anything he needed. He asked them to leave for the night and to report to him tomorrow

The rest of the interns looked up like they’d just been told the war was over.

“Oh my god. Finally,” one of them breathed out, already half-standing.

“Bro, I’m gonna write a 10-page essay about the hell these people put me through,” another muttered, cracking their knuckles with a vengeance.

“Team Leader Yoon, you’re the realest one here,” someone said, patting their bag and walking out like it was the end of a prison sentence.

One of them turned back to you. “You coming?”

You glanced at your monitor, finger still hovering over the trackpad. “Yeah. Just have to finish this last page,” you said with a small smile.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Won’t take long.”

With a round of exhausted goodbyes and a collective sigh that echoed through the empty office, the rest of them finally filtered out.

When the last of the other interns finally leaves the office, you look up at your monitor. It was just one last page, and you were done. Might as well finish this and not let your hard work go down the drain before the bloody battle that breaks out tomorrow. 

“You free for a second?” Jeonghan, who, unbeknownst to you, has been staring at you since he dismissed you.

“Hmm? Me?” you asked, surprised. That was a dumb way to respond, since you were the only one there (other than him). But, you know, you’re tired, he’s tired. There’s something abysmal, yet normal, about your reaction.

“No, the ficus. Yes, you. You’re the only one here.”

You got up, slowly, wary. “Okay…”

Jeonghan walks to his office, and you follow him. Right now, you’re not sure about what’s happening. He just dismissed you a while ago, right? You didn’t just dream that, right?

He opened his office door for you, and you stepped in. You’re hit with the scent again, but this time, it's more subtle. 

It was late in the evening, and you’re too tired. The ambience of it all was so relaxing, you’re sure you would sleep here right now, if it weren’t for the subconscious part of your body telling you to sleep in your own bed. 

“Sit,” Jeonghan said, his eyes pointing towards the couch.

You, oddly enough, half-expected a lecture on HR violations or intern responsibilities. More work. Maybe a mild scolding delivered in that stupidly smooth voice of his.

As you went to plop on the couch, he opened the drawer under his desk. From your view, you could see the shine of aluminium. A canned herbal tea and a familiar chocolate almond bar. Weird combo? Sure. But it was your go-to back in college, herbal tea and almond chocolate during all-nighters.

Jeonghan walked over to you, his shadow looming over your body. He held them out like a peace offering.

You just looked at what’s in his hands. “You... called me in for this?”

As you were about to take them, he pulled back his hand and opened the can first before placing both products on the glass coffee table in front of you. You roll your eyes.

He sat on the couch opposite you and leaned back, his hands going behind the back of his head. Casual. Composed. Eyes on you like he was studying your expression for microreactions. At first, you were hesitant. Your eyebrows furrowed, making that expression you had every time you’re curious about something. He knows what you were thinking about. How did he know about what you wanted, and why did he have them ready at his office? But then, you finally start drinking the tea. 

Your eyes, already half-lidded, began to soften further. Before taking another sip, you went ahead to dig into the chocolate bar. Oh, the mood right now was too cozy. The lavender atmosphere, the soft wool couch swallowing you whole, and you finally having your first meal in almost seven hours, no less, from the man in front of you. God, you just wanted to stay there forever.

“You looked like you were ready to go to the morgue,” he said. “Figured you’d need something to swallow before you head home.”

You chewed slowly, staring at him as your brain finally caught up with what was happening. “Woahhh... Team Leader Yoon Jeonghan,” you drawled, voice thick with playful suspicion. “How did you know I was craving this exact combo? Have you been stalking me?”

Jeonghan quirked a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said lazily. “If I were stalking you, I’d probably know you secretly take screenshots of food from that mukbang channel at midnight.”

You choked slightly on your tea, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“‘Saved Posts,” he said, smug. “Public account. Rookie mistake, seriously. Who taught you internet safety?”

You gasped, half-laughing, half-mortified. “You actually went through my saved posts?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t have to. Your notifications were on during that one meeting, and your screen lit up with your username. Curiosity got the better of me.”

You paused, your hand still gripping the chocolate bar. Your cheeks flushed, just slightly, the faintest pink blooming as his words sank in.

You clutched your forehead dramatically. “Unbelievable. I’m never showing my phone in public again.”

Jeonghan leaned forward then, elbows on his knees, gaze steady. “You interns have been running yourselves into the ground lately. Figured someone should give a damn.”

You looked at him, and for a second, you couldn’t say anything. The teasing was there, sure, but underneath it was... sincere.

You rolled your eyes, if only to hide how warm you felt. “You could’ve just sent an email like a normal person.”

He scoffed. “And miss the chance to see your tragic little face in person?”

“Wow. Thanks,” you said flatly, trying not to smile.

Jeonghan waited a full five seconds before glancing back at the door. Then, slowly, he sat back into his chair.

His gaze dropped to the half-crushed can on the table, the one you'd sipped from earlier. Faint, but still visible: a perfect smudge of maroon left on the aluminium rim. It wasn’t just a mark. It was the same shade you'd been wearing all night. The same shade you’d been wearing since you started working here. Rich. Creamy. Almost too bold for you.

His fingers reached for it. Brushed the edge.

The pigment clung to his skin. He turned his hand over, staring at the stain against the pad of his index finger. A color too soft to be dangerous, but too dark to be innocent.

He lifted his fingers to his mouth.

A pause.

Then, he touched his lips to them.

The warmth wasn’t the same. But it mimicked what could’ve been yours.

He exhaled through his nose, a quiet, bitter laugh.

He didn’t even like herbal tea and almond chocolate.

The hum of the vending machine was the only sound filling the small break room. You sat slouched on the bench, head resting against the cold wall, eyes closed. The coffee in your hands had gone lukewarm. Your shoes were kicked off, legs tucked beneath you like you were claiming this sad little corner as your territory.

Today, you finally finished all the projects you were assigned. Your fellow interns finally stopped cursing and hexing your seniors, and you finally have time to relax. Moreover, those same seniors got chewed out by Team Leader Yoon. “My final warning,” you remember how his voice was calm and calculating, making everything he said sound like a death threat instead of a “I’ll-send-you-to-HR” threat.

“You look like you got hit by a truck,” a familiar voice piped up.

You cracked one eye open to find your best friend, Jeonghan’s younger sister, leaning against the doorframe, sipping from her iced latte like she hadn’t just insulted you.

“Truck, bus, and a management-level bullet train,” you deadpanned, sighing dramatically as you took another sip of your coffee. “The seniors? Demonic. One of them made me sort three years of archived campaign decks. My soul left my body halfway through 2023.”

She winced. “Okay, yeah. That’s cruel and unusual. Even I don’t like those archives, and I barely do anything.”

You snorted.

She sauntered over and sat beside you, nudging your shoulder. “You’ve been looking real burnt-out lately. You okay?”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. Just new intern stuff. Paying my dues. Blood, sweat, tears, and barely-scheduled bathroom breaks. Besides, your lovely brother finally saved us.”

“Ew, don’t call him that.” She grimaced. “You need a break. Like, real one.”

You looked at her suspiciously. “Why do you sound like you’re about to propose something... stupid? Insane? What’s the right word….”

She smirked. “Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all… maybe I am.”

You squinted. “Don’t say team-building workshop. I’ll cry.”

“Worse.” Her grin widened. “Karaoke. Tonight.”

You groaned. “Nooo. My legs feel like overcooked noodles. I can’t stand, let alone scream-sing IU.”

“But it’s to celebrate! You finally survived intern hell. That deserves a round of somaek.”

You blinked. “Can’t we just do that without involving the whole department?”

“Nope. Everyone’s coming--well, everyone that matters. Especially you interns. And…” She paused for a beat, her voice dropping just slightly into a mischievous tone. “Oppa might come too.”

“No, he won’t. No one will. Why? Because this won’t happen.”

“Come on~” She flipped her hair dramatically. “I might go tell him it’s a little celebratory thing.”

You stared at her. “You do know that he’s busy, right?” 

She beamed. “Yeah, but he would make time. Maybe. As long as you’re there. Looking cute. And tired. And vulnerable.”

You almost choked on your coffee. “You’re evil.”

She beamed. “You love me.”

Jeonghan didn’t look up from his laptop when the door opened. “If this is about the budget sheet, tell them to stop using Comic Sans–”

“It’s not,” his sister sang-songed, plopping onto the guest chair across from his desk. “It’s about plans.”

“Sounds exhausting already.”

She leaned in, elbows on his desk. “Did you know we’re doing karaoke tonight?”

He raised a brow. “No.”

“Well, we are.”

“Sounds loud.”

“Mm-hmm.” She stretched the silence, letting it hang before she dropped the bait. “Guess who’s coming?”

His fingers paused mid-typing. “...”

“Yep. Poor girl’s been run ragged. You should’ve seen her, she looked like she was about to merge with the coffee machine. Thought it’d be nice for her to unwind.”

He didn’t reply right away, gaze still fixed on the screen, though nothing was being typed now.

His sister grinned. “Anyway. I told her you might come.”

This time, he looked at her.

“Just a heads up,” she added sweetly, before slipping out of the office.

Behind her, Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, his forearm rising to cover his eyes, as he slowly, very slowly smirked to himself. He let out a low chuckle, like he was plotting some evil Doofenshmirtz-level plan.

“This crazy bastard…” his sister just walked away as quickly as she could.

You were nestled in the corner of the private room, surrounded by your coworkers who were thriving in their tipsy chaos. The lights bounced off the walls, the mic was being tossed around like a volleyball, and someone was currently screaming their way through an old 2 PM hit.

You were smiling, even laughing occasionally, but your body still felt tired. Drained.

This probably wasn’t a good idea, but you were having fun. I guess you would have to prioritize your bodily needs tomorrow. The past few days had chewed you up and spit you out with a polite, overworked bow.

The door opened, and Jeonghan stepped in. Some of your coworkers did not expect him to come here, while the rest were too drunk to even get up from their seats. He was wearing a button-down shirt (too few buttons done up, you note) and sleeves rolled up like he just walked off a music video set.

You turned to your friend, who was screaming her lungs off. She made eye contact with you and winked. Yeah, no. This was her doing. 

You could see his eyes scanning the room until they stopped. At you. 

A faint smile ghosted across his lips. And then he walked in fully, sliding into an open seat at the end of the room, not next to you, but close enough to watch.

He didn’t even greet you directly.

You sipped your drink.

He sipped his.

But you could feel him there.

You had stepped out of the room to cool off. It was too warm. Too loud. Too much. It was like your skin couldn’t hold everything in anymore.

You were just beginning to breathe when you felt him.

Jeonghan leaned against the wall beside you like he belonged there. Like the hallway had been waiting for him.

You turned to see him, eyes closed, head tilted, cheek pressed lazily to his shoulder. His hair, beautifully disheveled, fanned out behind him, catching the soft light like silk. His shirt was slightly wrinkled, the few buttons still undone, skin glowing pale beneath the low light. His hair? 

You couldn’t tell if he was drunk or just reckless tonight. But his presence was magnetic, pulling everything in, including you.

“Team Leader Yoon… are you alright?” Your voice came out quiet, unsure, but your body already moved. You stepped in, closer, protective by habit and helplessness.

He didn’t answer at first. Just hummed low. His head dipped in a slow, deliberate motion.

“...Jeonghan?”

You watched the fall of his bangs. The way his lashes brushed the flush of his cheeks. His lips– plump, a little red, and parted just enough to tempt every reckless impulse in your brain.

Your hand lifted. You didn’t mean to. But it did. Hovering near his mouth.

You wondered:

Were they still wet from all the drinks? Or dry from the hallway air?

You didn’t find out.

Then, heat. Fingers wrapped around your wrist. Slow, firm.

You gasped.

He opened one eye, heavy-lidded, a little too knowing. Then, slowly, like he had all the time in the world, Jeonghan pulled you toward him. Not hard, instead, it was gentle, devastating. Until your bodies nearly touched.

You could feel it.

The heat. The scent.

Sandalwood. Lavender. And something unmistakably his.

And then, with the barest smirk at the corner of his lips, his thumb brushed over your bottom lip.

Your breath hitched.

“Same color,” he murmured, voice low. “Your lips… the other night.”

You forgot how to blink.

His thumb lingered a second longer before sliding away, his grip still secure around your wrist. But now, it was his fingers that trailed gently along the skin there, mapping every inch like it was a confession.

And then,

he moved again.

You didn’t even register it until his fingers brushed the slope of your neck. Just enough to make your breath hitch and your spine freeze.

Then he found the necklace you wore.

His fingers traced the delicate chain along your neck, unbearably slow, like he already knew what it was doing to you. You swallowed, breath catching when he reached the pendant resting above your collarbone. It was heart-shaped. Of course it was. His thumb brushed over it once, twice, as if he was testing the rhythm beneath it.

You were certain. Utterly, humiliatingly certain that he could feel your heartbeat rising against the cage of your ribs like it wanted to leap into his palm.

He held onto it.

Lifted it slightly. As if weighing something.

“Still wearing this?” he said, almost like he was asking himself.

Then, he let it go gently. The charm dropped against your skin with a soft clink.

You didn’t get to exhale.

Because in the next second, his hand slid to the back of your neck. His fingers threading through your hair, palm warm and solid.

He pulled you closer.

Not rough. Not rushed.

Intentional.

Your body followed, helpless.

He leaned in. Past your cheek. Past your jaw.

And just as your breath trembled out, his lips brushed the side of your neck, and he whispered: “What do you think of me?”

Your knees nearly gave out.

You could feel every syllable burn against your skin. Every letter was a sin.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t look at him.

Because he was right there. So close. And you knew, if you turned your head, your lips would meet.

But then–

The door behind you rattled.

Voices. Laughter. The sound of someone scream-singing off-key to “Autumn Leaves” by BTS. The hallway light flickered briefly from the opened door.

Your blood turned cold. Your stomach dropped.

He kept his hand at your nape. Still holding. Still there.

Your pulse thundered. His breath ghosted your jaw.

He looked amused. Barely. Like this was all some twisted game, and only he knew the rules.

“Let go,” you whispered, though you didn’t even sound like you meant it.

He didn’t.

He just smiled against your skin.

THUD.

“Oh God!”

Yoon Jeonghan. Your Team Leader. Your best friend’s brother.

And now? Collapsed at your feet. Dragging you down with him.

“Okay, okay, I got it, you’re very strong–”

You struggled to keep Jeonghan upright as he leaned heavily against your shoulder, humming some half-forgotten ballad into your ear. His hair was falling into his eyes, lips slack in a dopey grin.

Across from you, his sister, your beloved best friend, was swaying slightly on her feet.

“Sooo…” she slurred. “Isn’t he heavy? He’s heavy, right? I told him not to mix soju and beer.”

“You also cheered him on,” you deadpanned, glancing at her with a little more concern. “You don’t look so good either–wait, did you drink from that mystery cocktail?”

“Shhhh,” she hushed you with one finger to your lips. “Shhhh. Listen. Focus. Mission. Jeonghan. Home.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna take him to your apartment, right?”

Your best friend blinked, confusion present on her drunken face.

Then she laughed. “Babe, I can’t even find my own feet.”

You turned your head slowly to where Jeonghan was now lightly beatboxing under his breath with his eyes closed. 

“Oh my god.”

Oh my god, indeed.

Somehow, by sheer divine intervention and one very confused taxi driver, you got Jeonghan into the backseat of a cab, while your best friend leaned dramatically against a lamp post, blinking slowly.

“Alright, I’ll ride with him,” she mumbled. “You go home.”

“Uh.” You hesitated. “I think I should go with you two, actually.”

“Noooo.” She waved a limp hand. “I’ll just… go to sleep.”

“What–no, you can’t sleep in a cab– wait, are you calling another one for yourself?”

She nodded very proudly, pressing her phone to her cheek like it was a teddy bear. “Like a pro.”

You sighed, pulling out your phone. “I’m calling someone else to–”

She called out your name in a long and slurred tone.

You turned, and your best friend was suddenly wide awake. Swaying, but possessed by purpose.

“I have a genius idea.”

“…not this again.”

“You take him home.”

“What?!”

“Genius,” she whispered proudly. “He trusts you.”

You stared at her, baffled. You shook your head and said: “I should be taking care of you, not your brother–”

“But I’ll be fiiine,” she grinned, now somehow sitting on the sidewalk. “I live around here. You’re going the same way, anywayyyy. You’re also the responsible one. He’ll be nice to you.”

From the cab, Jeonghan murmured something that sounded vaguely like, “You smell like flowers,” before slumping over dramatically.

You exhaled. And sighed. And almost cried a little.

“…I hate all of you.”

The drive was mostly quiet, save for the muffled sound of traffic and Jeonghan’s occasional humming, off-key, barely coherent, but somehow still hypnotic. His head was back on your shoulder again, like a magnet, a gravitational constant you had no power over.

Your heart hadn’t slowed down since the hallway.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe too hard.

Then, the cab driver cleared his throat. Glanced at you two through the mirror. You, with your face red, with your boss leaning on your shoulders.

“So…” he said, voice light. “Are you two dating?”

You froze.

“I– what? N-No, we’re not–”

“Because you look good together,” the driver continued, oblivious and chuckling. “Like a couple in a drama, you know?”

You were about to melt into the seat and die when Jeonghan stirred beside you.

He blinked slowly. Then let out a soft chuckle.

And in a warm, slurred tone, he said–

“I agree with him… Are we?”

Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide.

“Jeonghan–!”

But he was smiling now, lopsided and sweet, his cheek still pressed to your shoulder like it was the most natural place in the world.

He turned his face slightly, lips grazing the fabric of your shirt.

“You’re soft,” he mumbled.

Your nervous system stopped completely

The cab driver laughed. “Ahah, young love.”

You slapped your hand over your face, covering every inch that exposed the flush of your cheeks. “I’m going to jump out of this car.”

“I’ll catch you,” Jeonghan murmured, barely audible now, already drifting again.

But his hand, warm and slow, was still holding your wrist. Thumb brushing lazily across your skin like he wasn’t done saying everything he wanted to say.

You didn’t speak for the rest of the ride.

But your heart did. Loudly. The whole time.

Tag list: @sumzysworld, @lixisoul99, @viciousdarlings, reiofsuns2001, @lily409, @armycarat2612, @cheolliesvt

(To everyone commenting/reacting to this story, thank u very much! I'll make sure to actually finish this for u guys 😭❤)

[eclipseofthemoonsmood]

Hey VAT7K nation, so I write a lot of Tangled fanfics

So to start off, I'm known as DisneyReferenceQueen on Wattpad, and probably a very small percentage know me from my Corpse Bride AU book i wrote a couple years back, Till Death Do We Part. I just want to advertise my Varian Oneshot book here as well.

I don't really write xReaders for him anymore, but i'd love it if the fandom on here supported my works! I have 7 total Varian related fanfics published! 3 of which are finished, and 2 of which are ongoing/paused. But still have a few chapters already published nonetheless.

A few writing samples from my work!

" The blood red Saporian emblem was painted over every Coronian surface. Doors, old flags, walls and boxes.

The people of Saporia had taken over the Coronian empire. Villagers had assumed they had slain the royal family,  for no one knows what became of them. For years now, the kingdom had fallen into poverty and depression. The sky now grey and bleak, the smell of flowers and fresh air was replaced by dank and damp smelly air. The sounds of laughter and music were all but forgotten. Now, the only sounds heard were those of broken feet scraping the ground, chains clattering behind them. Ever since the Saporian takeover, they’d been executing any who had anything to do with the Coronian crown. This included assistants, royal guards, even some chamber maids.

A few dirty beaten villagers stood by the wooden gallows to watch the latest execution. A string of villagers slowly dragged their chains up the wooden steps, each creaking of the wood making their hearts beat harder, practically feeling the wisp breath of death on them." ^- Hoist The Colours, from my oneshot book!

" Then emerged, slowly, a tall dark haired boy in black skeleton like clothing, his ghostly white face made his acid blue eyes stand out against any darkness. His bony arms were crossed in an x over his chest as he emerged from the fountain. He grinned a charming buck toothed smile as he elegantly waved an arm over the crowed as they sang and chanted and cheered. 

The rag-doll like girl stood with the crowd, clasping her hands together as she celebrated along with everyone else.

The monsters and dead souls clapped at the performance. The Pumpkin Prince bowed as he stood on top of the statue in the fountain." - The Pumpkin Prince ( Nightmare Before Christmas AU, this is also one of the unfinished ones, just fyi! )

"But as he pulled open the door all the way and peeked through, he saw that his suspicions were true. No matter how absurd it was.

A woman with her back to the boy stirred a bowl as she hummed. She wore a teal dress and a light apron, her ginger hair swept up in a half crown braid over her haid, the rest of her fiery hair fell down her back.

It was her.

Varian’s eyes held confusion, sadness, and tears as they welled up. But he still managed to choke out her name. At least, what he had always called her.

“ Mom?” 

The woman immediately spun around, her dress moving gracefully.

“ Varian?” She smiled, her voice thick with emotion.

Varian’s face suddenly twisted with horror. It wasn’t the fact that she was in fact his mother, but something else.

Her eyes were black buttons. Straight sewn into the skin.

“ Darling, you’re just in time for supper.” She said happily. Her soothing voice was so welcoming. It almost made Varian forget about the buttons and run straight into her arms. But something was wrong. He couldn’t just forget the button eyes." - Mechanical Lullabies ( Coraline AU! Vat7k related! )

and lastly, my Corpse Bride AU that is a x reader, and completed! It's the most popular book i've written and i can't not put it on here, so here's a little excerpt-

"The h/c girl screamed as the hand pulled her arm into the soil with it. She frantically tried to tug her arm free. The crows all flew, cawing all around her. She tumbled as her arm finally came free from the grip. She gasped and screamed as she saw the bony arm still clinging on to her. She flung it off, her eyes wide with pure terror. She lay on the ground still as the small snowbank started thumping. 

Something was trying to get out.

The girl was frozen in sheer horror as slowly, a body rose from the cold earth. It was a teenage boy, his hair sheer black as night, one stripe of teal blue stuck out. He wore a ruined tux, the sleeves ripped and the shirt undone to his chest. His sharp features of his face were cold and struck terror in Y/n’s heart as he stared at her with wide unblinking ice blue eyes.

“ I do.” He whispered." - Till Death Do We Part ( which you can read, here! Please remember that this is a Tim Burtons Corpse Bride AU!! I've gotten many comments not realizing it despite it being in the title and in the description. ) Anyway, thank you if you made it this far, and i'd love it if you guys supported my work! I haven't posted anything in a long while, but who knows, maybe you guys can motivate me. :)

[kamyru]

The Tape: Chapter 3. Anger (Jason Mendal x Reader)

1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7

TW: This work is about a sextape that gets published without the narrator’s consent. It is NOT done by Jason or any other LI from MCL:New Gen. There will also be descriptions of what is on the tape. So proceed with caution.

Summary: Dinner with Jason. No. Actually, an entire day with Jason to celebrate winning against his project. What can go wrong? Everything is perfect and both parties are having the time of their lives. Teases, celebrations, compliments, cufflinks, and kisses? It was really perfect from the start to the end. But it lasted less than twenty-four hours because the next day a video with a barely visible face but a name clearly said at the end started to make rounds to everyone, even to Jason. The life before, five stages of grief, the life after.

Words counting: 2388

It was cold and I was shivering. But not due to the temperature of the floor that felt like ice giving me a wake-up call. No, I was shivering with anger. How could anyone do that to a human being? How could anyone do that to me? 

Despite the temperature, I started to sweat and feel like my skin was covered in muddy glue. The floor wasn’t as welcoming as it was a few hours ago. I had to move, to get to the bathroom and wash away the memories of that night, the memories of today’s dream. 

I walked directly to the shower, avoiding looking in the mirror or the mate window. I didn’t want to undress and see my bare skin. So, I took a step inside the tub still in my clothes that I wore at the office yesterday. Firstly, I had to get rid of the dirty sensation from my face, to look more presentable for others and myself, to wash away the distinguishable features of the girl from the tape. As I was rubbing hot water all over my face, I looked at my hands. They were dark from the mascara that I forgot to remove yesterday and red from something I couldn’t identify. Reflexively, I turned to the mirror and saw dry blood on my face. The metallic taste I felt in my sleep was because of a nose bleed. Oh…

As I looked at my stained hands, the sensation of wet clothes on my skin was getting unbearable. I heard the sound of a button snapping as I finally undressed and threw the clothes on the floor. However, I still couldn’t look at my body, even while scrubbing. With closed eyes, I tried to make sure every part of me was clean from the touch of a man. By the time I finished my shower, my skin was burning in different places and I nearly fell a few times.

My reflection in the mirror caught my attention and I stopped to stare at my naked body. My hair was longer in the video than it was now and the shape of my brows was more accurate now. I don’t think I lost weight, but my cheeks were way fuller in the video. Now, I looked more mature, losing my baby fat. The hickey on the shoulder that was visible in the video was long gone, replaced by redness after scrubbing on that spot for too long. 

I pressed my legs very tight against each other, till my knees hurt. I didn’t want anyone to touch me ever again, or to see me naked. I didn’t want anyone to know how many moles I had on my neck. No one would ever have the right to count them. 

To divert my thoughts, I looked at the wet clothes I threw on the floor. It was a skirt that finished above my knees and a shirt that showed cleavage. Someone who saw the video could see too much of my skin with it. So, I put them in a garbage bag to throw them away later. 

Back in my room I started to search for something to wear today at the office, but nothing was suitable. Half of my wardrobe was from the time I was with Ioan and I started to throw all of them on the floor. As I looked at the other clothes, the image of Jason above me in the dream that woke me up appeared in front of my eyes. Clothes in which I was seen with Jason, clothes in which Jason touched me, clothes that got complimented by Jason – none of them were any good and they also ended up on the floor. 

By the time I found something suitable, everyone else in my house was already awake. It was getting late and I didn’t put any makeup on yet. Since high school, I wore the same makeup style in my day to day life. But not today. It was the same type of makeup I had in the tape. I couldn’t let anyone associate me with the girl in the video, even if we were the same person. I couldn’t let anyone look at me as the person who took the video did. 

My eyes got sore from applying the makeup remover too often. For a second, I thought about leaving the house with my bare face, but it felt too intimate to appear in public like this, like people could see through me, like they could read my thoughts. I didn’t want anyone to see the face I had when I was alone at home. They didn’t deserve it. 

It was nearly ten when I stepped out of the bus. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Jason’s car parked in front of Devenementiel and him leaning against it. He took a step and called my name as I walked past him, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t have the mental power to talk with him, not after that dream, not after he saw me in vulnerable states more than anyone. Plus, I was afraid he watched the whole tape and saw how it ended, hoping to use me to finish in the same way. What if his goals were the same? What if all he wanted was to convince me to sleep with him and as soon as he saw the birthmark on my back or the scar on my leg, he would stop being there for me? What if… something was connected?

I nearly bumped into the glass door as I tried to enter Devenementiel. Roy, who witnessed the whole scene, put a hand on my shoulder and asked me if I was okay. The skin that he touched felt like burning and I jerked away from him, hitting myself on Amanda’s desk and nearly falling on my butt. Again, Roy caught me and his hands on my elbows steaded me. 

“Don’t touch me!” I yelled, walking past him right into the bathroom. I had to take out my blazer to be able to put the sleeves up enough to wash my hands to the elbows. I used at least ten pumps of liquid soap. When I tried to dry them, they were burning and my sleeves were dripping. 

Someone called for me as I walked to my desk, but I didn’t want to interact with anyone. Why did they want so much to hurt me? What have I done to deserve it? My space was my space and I didn’t need anyone to interfere with it. I didn’t want people to take photos with me, even accidentally, to touch me, to look at me a little bit longer, to try to understand if it was really me or not, to take care of me and then disappoint me. I wanted to exist all by myself without all these problems, without a past, a present or a future. 

Elenda put a cup of tea on my desk and left before I could say anything. At least, it stopped me from spiralling. It smelled nice, like the green tea she was giving to Brune every time she had a deadline nearing. My hands curled around the hot cup and I inhaled the vapors. I felt relaxed for the first time in days but the feeling disappeared instantly as I touched the cup with my lips. I was putting something on my mouth in public, in front of people that saw a sextape with me in which I gave oral sex to my ex. My stomach was growling but I couldn’t bring myself to open my mouth. No one had the right to see me in a vulnerable state. They could use it against me later. I put down the cup.

My performance was outrageous the past few days, so I had a lot to do to compensate for it. Firstly, to answer all the mails that I didn’t have the energy to open before. Then, to talk with the partners regarding the venues, decorations, and trivia activities. It was going very slowly and the time was barely moving, but I didn’t want to move, nor to talk, or eat. I came to the office to work and that was all. If there was any possibility of living in a bubble, I would have taken it. 

The next few days, Jason called my name every time I walked past Devenementiel and I ignored him. I was afraid that he would tell me something about the tape, he would ask me how I reached so low, that I deserved it. I didn’t want to hear his voice. He didn’t have a right to judge me. 

But he had a different opinion. After being successfully ignored for so many days, Jason decided it was the right time to act and instead of calling my name like all the other days, he put himself in front of the entrance to stop me from passing by him. I took a step back, afraid he could touch me, but he didn’t.

“How are you?” his deep voice numbed me. Suddenly, I felt too seen, as if I wore nothing and he knew the place of all my scars. As if he opened a few of them again. 

I didn’t know what to answer, nor I wanted to hear more questions from Jason. At least he didn’t try to touch me. I knew that if he tried to, I would have yelled and never ever let him close to me. 

“If you need me, tell me. I’m here for you.”

My eyes met Amanda, who passed by us to enter the office. And suddenly, I understood: the way Amanda looked judgingly at this interaction, someone else could do it that Sunday and tell Ioan about my new date. The video appeared a few hours after my date with Jason. What if there wasn’t any date with Jason? What if, instead of him being there for me, he would do me a favour and disappear entirely from my life?

“No, Jason. Leave me alone. Can’t you see that all of it happened because of you? That you were the one to destroy my life?”

Jason opened and closed his mouth. I took a step closer to him but the gap between us didn’t shrink. He stepped back, keeping his, or my, distance. 

“What do you mean?” he finally whispered, looking directly in my eyes. His gaze felt like fire on my face. 

“I don’t know. All I know is that after going out with you, my life was destroyed the next day. If you didn’t ask me out, if you didn’t congratulate me, if you didn’t appear in my life, everything would have been different!”

Jason took a step aside and I was finally free to enter Devenementiel. I didn’t feel like going inside anymore, nor I had anything else to tell Jason. If having him out of my life ment getting back the smallest part of the peace I had before the date with him, it was an exchange I was ready to accept.

“I meant what I said,” said a deep voice behind me. It was wrong. I didn’t need anything from that man. Forgetting his words would be a favour. I didn’t need anyone. I just needed my life back. I didn’t want an experience to split my life in before and after. Someone, please give me my before!

Next day, I didn’t see Jason leaning against his car as usual and I sighed in relief, until his expensive car parked a little bit farther than usual caught my attention. He was in the driver’s seat and our eyes met for a second. None of us moved in acknowledgement, but I was sure he saw me – that was why he came every day, right? 

***

I don’t know how many days passed between the dream I had previously and this one: I was cold and naked in a dark room and suddenly someone put a blanket on my shoulders, while four words echoed in the room continuously “I’m here for you”.

I woke up on my floor. I probably fell from the bed during the night, a thing that didn’t happen since childhood. Maybe I could try to trust Jason. He even gave me a business card of an attorney, even though I had no idea where I put it. I told myself that today I would ask him to give me the contacts of the attorney again, considering that his car had been parked near Devenementiel every day. 

There was no light entering my room, even if it was already morning. I looked at the mirror and held eye-contact with my reflection. My heart was bumping in my ears and I felt how air was leaving my lungs at a fast pace again and again. I was afraid that if I looked for too long, I would see the same face from the tape. So, I took the first clothes that I reached: the skirt I wore during my date with Jason and a plain white shirt I wore at Devenementiel’s first event. There was no way I could stare at my reflection for too long, so I started to apply the makeup I was used to put on for the past years and ran out of the house to catch the bus. 

I arrived at the office tired, not able to remember how it felt not to be one step away from a mental breakdown.

For the first day since our date, for the first day since the tape was sent to all the people around me, Jason’s car wasn’t parked in front of Devenementiel. Did I arrive at the wrong office? Something cold fell on my face and I looked up, being met with big drops of rain. I didn’t have an umbrella and my clothes were too thin for the weather outside. Jason wasn’t there for me.

It was cold and I was shivering. All the anger that slowly spilled from me escaped now, destroying the walls I tried to put around it. It fell out of my eyes, mixing with the rain. I finally knew who I was angry at the most – myself.

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (September 3-9, 2023)

I was a bit nervous about GAMERA -Rebirth-; the animation looked dodgy and Netflix has a shaky track record with kaiju shows. I'm pleased to report this is the best entry in the genre that they've put their name on. Good characters, great action (brutal as always), and actual episodic storytelling that effortlessly weaves in elements from the Showa films beyond all the returning kaiju. Watch it immediately.

Tie-ins abound for GAMERA -Rebirth-: a two-part novelization, a manga adaptation, and a prequel manga that sheds some light on [UNBELIEVABLY MASSIVE SPOILERS]. That prequel manga (GAMERA -Rebirth- code thyrsos) is being published online for free in both Japanese and English. You can read the first chapter here.

In unofficial translation news, English subtitles for GAMERA.1999 (1999) and yokaipedia (2022) are now available. The former is Hideaki Anno's making-of documentary for Gamera 3: Revenge of Iris; the latter is a fun, child-friendly fantasy from Godzilla Minus One director Takashi Yamazaki with a big ol' centipede-dragon at the end. (It's also maybe the first Japanese kaiju film I've ever seen with a major Black character.) I haven't gotten to GAMERA.1999 yet, though from scrubbing through it, it seems like a lot of dialogue was just ignored by the translator. Shame, as that's one I've wanted for a long time.

We have a teaser for Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, as well as a premiere date for the first two (out of ten) episodes: November 17. (I am being showered with Media for my 30th birthday.) The big news from this trailer is that John Goodman is reprising his role as Bill Randa from Kong: Skull Island. I assume that's going to be through flashbacks and old recordings only, since he was eaten by a Skullcrawler in that one. We also catch glimpses of two new creatures, a dragon and a crab from what I can tell. The latter looks to be fighting a Mother Longlegs.

Fandango and AMC have added mostly-empty listings for Godzilla 2000 on November 1. Fathom Events screened Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla on November 3 last year; despite randomly showing Tokyo SOS back in March, I gather they're making a tradition out of Godzilla Day. Note that the listed runtime is longer than the film itself. Predictions for the program: another message from Keiji Ota, the 2022 Godzilla vs. Gigan short, and the Japanese version of G2K. Interesting that they're running the last Toho Godzilla film to receive a wide release in the U.S. exactly a month before Godzilla Minus One has a wide release of its own here.

Gamera isn't a meta-defining Godzilla Battle Line unit... but he's Gamera in a Godzilla game, so I've been using him in every match since I unlocked him. He's gearing towards demolishing flying units, with fireballs that deal more damage against them and knock them back. A pity that he's arriving well after those units were at their most dominant.

Godzilla: Here There Be Dragons #3 still isn't giving me much to write home about, but the kaiju cult creeping to the forefront intrigues. Also cool to see Ebirah in a starring role.

Marubeni, one of Japan's biggest general trading companies, put out a bizarre commercial featuring samurai, zombies, a meteor, and a refurbished GMK King Ghidorah. The ad now has English subtitles, and you can watch a Ghidorah-centric behind-the-scenes video here.

I cannot believe I have more Cleopatra Entertainment fuckery to report on with regards to their Shin Ultraman releases, but they're truly trying to take the "Worst Film Company of 2023" title from the members of the AMPTP. Their third attempt at a barebones disc is starting to reach customers... but the ones who already received the initial replacement disc are being told no more will be sent. @starestream is trying to figure out if they'll be selling the third edition on their site, since it seems buying it anywhere else is a gamble. (Physically, the third edition looks almost the same as the first two, set apart only by the "SUBTITLED" text on the disc.) Either way, it's another blow to a movie that truly doesn't deserve this.

[lulupen2023]

Ezra and Ella (1/?)

Post Finale ‘You 5’ (which means 'Spoilers!' , don't read if you didn't see season 5 yet) Pairing: Joe/Bronte Hello everyone, this is my first attempt in this fandom. I’ve never thought I’d write about it one day, but season 5 totally blew me away, and THAT ship, oh my, oh my!! Usually I'm not a lucky author, my stories are not much appreciated, I hardly get feedback, so I don’t expect anything different this time, I’m just thrilled to try and give my two favourite characters another chance! Warning: this could go in very dark places… but it’s a journey with Joe Goldberg, after all. Disclaimer: all characters belong just and only to the marvelous Caroline Kepnes, Netflix etc, I just own my sick ideas, lol Uh, another thing: please, be kind, English is not my native language (actually I would need some beta reader’s help), sorry for possible mistakes. Summary:

What if Bronte had second thoughts about what she did to Joe in the final episode? What if she decided their story must have a better ending? What would Joe think about it? Is it really over between them?

Chapter I: You were supposed to shrink Bronte’s POV

Uhm, what’s the thing I used to say about myself just some months ago? Oh, right, that’s it.

I still have no idea who I want to be. But I can't wait to find out

Well actually I found out: I’m a writer. For real.

Maybe you were right about not underestimating my talent. Or maybe it’s just the beginner’s luck, but it looks like my first published book is a best seller. And I didn’t have to resort to anything related to you.

Brand new characters. Brand new countries. Brand new plot. Brand new scenario. A breath of fresh air.

I’ve come a long way from the tidal wave of cum. I’m in the middle of the third chapter of  the second book the Publishing House commissioned to me, when I hear the front door open.

Oh no, why so soon? “Sweetheart, I’m home.” cheers a very familiar voice. It’s Paul Brettfort, my boyfriend. We’ve been dating for like four months and… here I am, living in his house. This is funny and maybe a bit weird, too. Paul, just like Paul Brown, one of the fake identities you used. But that’s the only thing you and this Paul have in common. “Hi, honey!” I walk towards him, in order to give him a kiss. 

I'm a little bit reluctant, if I have to be honest with myself. I just had such a wave of inspiration and I would prefer to keep writing. “Why aren’t you already dressed up? We have that dinner with my friends tonight, don’t you remember?”

I nod, going upstairs. Geez. Not again. Not another fucking boring evening with Paul’s friends: an insurance agent, a broker and a notary. None of them is even remotely close to being an artist. And they wouldn't talk about literature even if they had a gun on their head. Oh wait, gunpoint, this evokes some memories… of that fateful night. Fuck, I’d better hurry up with the dressing and make up instead of racking my brains. --------------------------------------------------- The endless fucking dinner finally ended and Paul and I are home again, which can mean one thing only. Paul’s second name could be ‘Routine’. Here we go, having sex right before sleeping, just like every damn single day since I met him at that grocery store. The same, lame, stupid, banal sex. I hate myself impossibly much, because lately there’s only one way to reach the orgasm with him: thinking of you, replacing you with him, here by my side, right now. But no way, you would never do such boring stuff with me. You used to ignite me in so many ways, you challenged me, you worshipped me. Oh, wait, after what I did to you.. I guess you should find new ways to make me feel that good. Geez, it’s getting late and I’d better sleep just like Paul is already doing. I was so busy pretending that I didn’t even notice he was already satisfied. I guess this frames our ‘passionate’ sexual life. Like I said, I should try to close my eyes, but I already know I’ll spend this night sleepless, like all the other nights in these last months. What the hell is wrong with me? Now I have Paul. Thirty-three years. Beautiful. So athletic. He loves sports. He has a steady job in a bank. He's the kind of guy that when he says he’s going to a place, you can be sure he’s really going there.

No mystery. No bluff. No lies. No deception. And he loves me, so kindly, delicately… normally. I should feel like I hit the jackpot with him! Instead, your soothing, silky voice keeps echoing in my head. Those words you said to me that last night. They keep haunting me. ‘I think some part of you still needs me.’ Fuck, you were right and I’ve been so naive. You were supposed to shrink, instead day after day I miss you, more and more. Did I really do the right thing? For me. For you. Was it really the right ending for our story? I turn my head to Paul who’s still sleeping so serenely. I can see him in the soft moonlight of the window I like to keep open.

‘No one will ever love you like I do. Ever again. ‘ Once again, I’m afraid you were right. Or, even worse, I’ll never love anyone like I loved you. No, Louise, be true at least with yourself. Like I love you, Joe. Still. Despite everything. Despite you’re a serial killer. Despite you took so many lives. Despite you were about to take mine! However, I gave a lot of thoughts about the things you did. Let’s not fool ourselves. This world sucks. People suck. You always had a good reason. Yeah, Beck was a friend of mine, but.. did I really know her so well?

Instead, you did. So you must have seen something wrong in her. Something dark. Just like you saw it in many other people. Clayton. That selfish bastard! I twist and turn in the bed, my eyes still utterly open, my mind with no intention to give me some rest. You turned on me, just because I turned on you. And I stupidly did because I wasn’t able to see you then, the way I see you now. My chaotic good hero, just a little bit evil when it’s necessary.

‘You fixated on me because you couldn't stand being Louise Flannery any longer.’

Shit. This is so fucking true it scares me. Fuck Louise, I miss Bronte, I can still be her and I will.

Bronte was the only one who managed to stop you, Joe, so maybe she could be the only one who could…

This last thought scares the hell out of me, I can’t even bring myself to end it. No, no, no, no, Louise, don’t lose your mind. You can’t screw everything up, just like that. Your new perfect, flawless life. Your rightfulness. Then why am I already packing my things, as silent as I can? Just like a thief, maybe because I’m stealing a life which is not the one I crave.

My rucksack is ready with my laptop, money, some clothes and the basic stuff. I just sit at the dinner table, take a sheet of paper and start writing. ‘Dear Paul, When you wake up I’ll be gone. Yes, I’m leaving you and I chose the most coward way to do so, but I couldn’t stand the sight of your sad eyes. The problem is not you, who are utterly perfect. Perfect. But not for me. I can’t fool you, it wouldn't be fair. Maybe we rushed things too much, maybe if you think about it a little longer you’ll also figure out I’m not the proper girl for you. You deserve someone who can truly love you, to be happy with. And I’m sure you’ll find this girl sooner than you expect. Please, don’t look for me, ever. It’s way better to break up now, before things get too serious. Thank you for anything. I wish you the most wonderful life. Farewell.

Louise’

An hour and half later, I’m on a train, leaving Michigan, which has never truly been my place. New York, here I come! I’m coming home. I’m coming to you.

Joe’s POV What’s the point of waking up, if every day is fucking identical to the previous one and the one that still has to come? All these months and yet they don’t trust me enough, not even to give me a pen to write. They’re afraid I could kill myself with that. And they’re right. I would stab my heart with it, like vampires with wood. Probably I wouldn't explode into a pile of dust, but I would end this pathetical surrogacy of existence. The paradox would be such a book cherisher like me trying to slit his wrists with the page of a book - the papers of all the letters I receive are too soft, they can’t serve any purpose-. Actually I’ve tried once, but they noticed and stopped me before the bleeding could cause any serious damage. And it was with the very first book they allowed me to have, after I finished reading it. It was ‘The Executioner’s song’. Peak of irony. I’m laughing, thinking of that. Yeah, I'm laughing right here, right now. Alone. By now I’m used to doing everything alone. I keep laughing. I sound crazy. Maybe I am. Even more probably, I’ve always been.  

However, after that sad episode - sad because I didn’t manage to perform my ultimate killing: myself. -, the guards told me they wouldn’t give me books anymore, but I begged them not to do so, that it wouldn’t have happened anymore. It was only a moment of weakness and they’ve been merciful. I get three books a week, which is something I’m very grateful for. Otherwise, I would just sit here all alone, staring at the walls. The only thought would kill me… oh, wait, didn’t I wish to die? I’ve said I’m crazy, haven't I? Yes, okay. I’ve made some mistakes. I’ve done some despicable things. Horrible things. But always for a good reason. Do I really deserve all this? Did I really have to lose every fucking thing? My son, my money, Mooney, all my books, my freedom, my purest concept of love? Speaking of… Among all the books I receive, there was even your best seller, Bronte. I expected to find the Huntress and the Magician, instead… I chuckled. A crime novel? Actually, two detectives on the trail of a criminal, who end up falling in love in the process? As a man wounded in his ego, with a broken heart, I should say your book sucks and I hated every page of it; but as an unfazed book reviewer I can’t lie: that was good. A lot. Clean. Essential. Captivating. Such a mature work. I just can’t help wondering, are the righteous detectives me and you? Oh nope, Bronte, I can more easily picture us as the dangerous criminals.

You also used to say it, don’t you remember? Just like Bonnie and Clyde. Oh, it could have been, Bronte, that and so much more… but you preferred fuckin up my entire life… you, ungrateful bitch! And yet I keep thinking of you. Candace. Beck. Love. Marienne. Kate. I loved them all, deeply, intensely, sincerely…but they all faded away from my heart. But not you. Never you. Why? The only woman who managed to fool me twice… and probably could do it again. Oh, Bronte, what would I do if I had you here in front of me now? Strangle you? Kiss you? Both things at once? I don’t know, I really don’t know.

But I keep having so many fantasies about you. Like I did when you were supposed to just stay in the box. Before everything between us started. Before the fire devoured us. Literally. Oh no, wait, it’s just Kate the burnt one. Another chuckle. Oh please, that eager bitch hadn’t even the decency to die, at least let me have some little fun.  

In my fantasies, sometimes I kill you, sometimes you kill me. Sometimes we just make love, in the grass, under millions of stars.

If only you hadn’t run away. If only you could have accepted me. All of me. I lay down the cot and cover my lap with the newest book they gave me. Some guards could be around. My hand slowly goes down, crossing first the elastic band of my awful red trousers and then it slides inside my boxers. Yep, it might be just my hand but as I close my eyes and bite my lips it's you who’s doing that, knowing what pace I like, knowing everything about me. Or maybe not. I grin as I increase the pace. Fresh news, Bronte: you think you shot me there but your aim ain’t that good. You just hit my left groin. It hurt like hell, of course, but at least down there everything still perfectly works. And I’d be very glad to prove it to you. If only…

TBC

[thana-topsy]

Liminal Bridges [Excerpt]

I've made some changes to Liminal Bridges while writing new content/gearing up to start posting again! I've always been the type of fic writer that flat-out refuses to go back and change/edit/re-write things I've already published. HOWEVER. The way the plot is progressing, there were a few things I wanted to tweak in earlier chapters. Namely.... I wanted to add J'zargo into the story. Here's what a couple of scenes from Chapter 7 now look like, featuring my favorite pyromaniac:

--

The classroom was surprisingly full when Neloth pushed through the door and walked to the head of the room. The soft murmur of conversation died immediately as all eyes tracked him with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. 

“Whatever you think you know about the school of Mysticism, I want you to forget it.” He let the book in his arm fall heavily against the desk. “With the blessed collapse of the Mages Guild, the study of Mysticism has become more and more scant, very rarely leaving the halls of the Psijics on the isle of Artaeum. However, the Telvanni have known and utilized the practices of Mysticism for millennia.” 

He opened the book. There was a soft, collective noise of scrolls being unfurled and ink pot lids being flipped open. 

“First, the thing you must understand above all else is that to study Mysticism is to open your mind to the inherent paradox of reality. It is not for the faint of heart, nor for the weak willed. My intent is not to lead any of you into madness, though it is always a possibility. Now…” Neloth heard someone in the front row of the class audibly swallow. “What types of spells and rituals fall under the category of Mysticism?” He looked out at the class expectantly. 

Silence followed. 

“Sometimes, I ask questions that aren’t meant to be answered, but this one is. So speak up and don’t waste my time.”

“Absorption spells.” The answer came from a Khajiit who sat in the center of the room. He was familiar—the one who had gone toe-to-toe with Neloth in his first lecture on Destruction magic over a year ago.

“Correct. What else?” 

“Teleportation,” the Khajiit answered again. 

“Correct, again. Are you the speaker for the class?” He shrugged and leaned back in his chair with a smirk. “J’zargo seems to be the only one to have answers.”

“Very observant. What else?” Neloth asked him directly this time.

“Soul trapping.”

“What else?” 

J’zargo opened his mouth, then paused, faltering. He looked to one of his classmates beside him, then back to Neloth. “Divination?” 

“Correct.” A slow smile spread across Neloth’s face. “But why?”

“Eh…” The Khajiit’s cool demeanor was gone, replaced with nervous doubt. “This one… does not know.” 

“Then this is where we shall start for today. I do hope the rest of you were writing all this down while your classmate carried your dead weight.” There was a flurry of movement as quills frantically scratched across parchment. 

“We’ll begin with the principles of Mysticism.” 

—

“Master Neloth, I had a question regarding the assignment.” 

The first week of classes had come and gone with relative ease. Neloth had only held two lecture-heavy classes and sent all of his students off to do a significant amount of reading before the next session. It was really quite simple. There was nothing to question. 

“What might that be?” he asked, only half paying attention as he copied his most recent research into his journal.

 “Will we need to know all of Sotha Sil’s lessons on Artaeum for the exam, or are there like… certain terms to memorize?”

Neloth paused in his writing, slowly looking up from his journal. The student, a shaggy-looking Breton boy, took a nervous step backwards. 

”I’m sorry. Were you expecting me to compose a vocabulary list?” 

The student shook his head, dark brown hair falling into his eyes. “No, sir, I just meant—” 

“You just meant ‘are there any shortcuts I can take’? Is that right?” 

“No, I—”

“For the exam, you and you alone, will be required to transcribe from memory the entirety of 3rd of Sun's Dawn, 2920. Any future inane questions will result in more assignments.” Neloth pointed at the door with the tip of his quill. “Out.”  

The boy opened his mouth, sucked in a breath, held it, then quickly ducked his head and strode towards the exit. Neloth went back to copying. It took him a long moment to realize there was someone else still standing in the room. He set his quill down with a loud sigh. “Yes? What else?” 

“This one also has a question, but not about the assignment.” It was the know-it-all Khajiit from class. He had a muscular build beneath his mage’s robes, the fur around his muzzle carefully coiffed into a ridiculous little mustache that framed his mouth. “J’zargo can wait until class, if you’d prefer.” 

“You’re already here and you’re already bothering me. So you might as well waste my time now as opposed to later.” 

The Khajiit smirked, shuffling through his scrolls. “J’zargo simply wanted clarification. You said that Mysticism and The Old Way were used interchangeably by the Psijics. But while ‘The Old Way’ can refer to Mysticism, Mysticism does not necessarily refer to The Old Way, yes?”

“Correct. Because one is a religious philosophy, while the other is a theoretical school of magic.” 

“This one is simply confused by what separates the two.” 

“Did you read Tetronius Lor’s treatise on Mysticism?” 

“Yes, which is why J’zargo is confused.” 

Neloth rubbed at his temples with a sigh, but the question was intelligent enough. Worthy of answering, at least. “The Old Way refers specifically to the practices of the Psijics on Artaeum. They use meditation, thought exercises, and riddles to better connect with what they believe to be the purest form of magicka. The study of Mysticism is far less spiritual, at least as far as House Telvanni is concerned. It’s more of a science than a religion— identifying patterns and working with cause and effect, direct action and reaction. It is something that can be mapped and traced. Experiments can be performed and repeated with reliable results.” 

The Khajiit nodded, looking thoughtful. “Forgive, but are these not the same thing?” 

“Hardly,” Neloth scoffed then paused. “But explain your reasoning.”

“Well, meditation and riddles… This is just another way of identifying patterns, yes? Thought exercises are psychological. Scientific, as you said. So it feels, to this one at least, like it is just splitting whiskers based on pomp and circumstance— one group refusing to be associated with the other.” He tilted his head curiously. “J’zargo thinks it counterproductive to say they are two different things instead of considering them as a whole.”  

Neloth pursed his lips. “J’zargo, was it?”     

“That is this one’s name, yes.”

“Well, J’zargo.” Neloth smiled thinly. “In addition to your reading assignment, I’d like you to write a short essay on the similarities and differences concerning the religious and secular practices of Mysticism.”

J’zargo’s eyes glittered mischievously. “Are you punishing this one for asking questions?” 

“Do you feel punished?” Neloth asked as he leaned back in his chair. J’zargo shook his head. Neloth nodded. “Good. The Arcanaeum should have a copy of Concerning the Psijic Order as well as Origin of the Mages Guild. Those are the main resources you need.” 

“Thank you, Master Neloth.” 

Neloth pointed to the door with the feather end of his quill. “Out.” 

[yutaspierced]

old chanbig draft for the WIP meme!

Ahhhhhh my sweet sweet chanbig fic that I will one day return to. I actually wrote and published about four chapters of my chanbig fic before I realized I hated it and deleted them off ao3. I published one chapter of the rewrite before I fell off and one day I will go back.

Here's a few snippets from the old version

There are two pairs of supple leather cuffs Chan keeps in his spacious walk-in closet for this purpose, among others. He leaves Big slumped obediently against the footboard of the bed, sweaty and pinched with the aftershocks of pain through his leg, to retrieve one of them and a steel, spiked cock cage from their drawer.

Chan walks back into the bedroom. Big’s eyes don’t lift from the hardwood. The cuffs and cock cage are left on the mattress just above Big’s head and Chan squats down to start stripping Big carefully out of his clothes.

Big doesn’t fight him, but also doesn’t help, a rag doll under his hands. His eyes stay trained on one square inch of the floor as his cheeks flush darker and darker pink. He knows what’s coming. It’s seventy-five percent punishment, but there’s that unavoidable twenty-five percent pleasure, because there always will be when Chan is the one causing Big pain.

When Big is finally completely bare, Chan rubs his thumb into Big’s wrist and kisses the delicate skin above his thudding pulse just to remind himself again that it’s there, however fleeting. Maybe he should be embarrassed that he has to reassure himself of this basic, obvious fact so often (Big is sitting right in front of him, very much alive), but he’s never been able to. He cuffs him tight enough to the rungs that the expensive leather will dig in and leave subtle bruises.

When he touches Big’s cock, his eyelids flutter and his breath catches on the inhale, but his eyes still don’t move. Big licks his lips, sinks his teeth into the plush give of them. It’s only because Chan is intently listening that he hears the half-whispered. “Kiss. Please.” He shouldn’t. Big is being punished.

Chan kisses him like he’s precious while locking the cock cage in place and tucking the key in the the left pocket of his slacks. He’s never once lost it. Big thunks his head back against the footboard and Chan’s mouth drops to his neck, his collar bones, his pretty nipples already standing at attention, waiting, yearning. Chan knows exactly how to send shivers of arousal down Big’s spine until the cock cage turns them into agony.

Chan does make Big sleep in his own quarters that night. He isn't completely spineless yet.

---

“Um,” Big glances around, eyes wild and uncertain. “Someone has to stand post on Mr. Kinn’s door at all times.”

“Says who?” Chan’s mouth quirks.

Big rolls his eyes and levels his now cold gaze at the wall ahead. “You do.”

“You think I can’t make exceptions to my own rules?” Chan pulls on Big’s shoulder until he fumbles out of the doorway. “Come with me. Now.”

They almost make it back to Chan’s suite. They’re barely six feet from the door when Chan shoves Big against a wall and takes his mouth, growls into it in between biting kisses, “Mine.”

Big makes a strangled, inquisitive noise and clutches at Chan’s lapels, his shoes slipping on the slick marble floor.

Chan grabs Big by his tie and pulls him off the wall only to slam him against it again. “My cock not good enough? You still need his?”

“Cha-” The backhand comes before Big can even get his name out. Big’s head hits the wall and Chan grabs his chin to force his eyes forward again. Real fear tumbles through Big’s irises and his whole body trembles in Chan’s grip.

“I’m right here. I’m the one fucking you. I’m the one who keeps you alive. I’m right here. Look at me.” Chan hates the barest blot of desperation that bleeds into his anger. He kisses Big again, softer. “Mine.”

Big’s cheeks are wet again when he pulls away. The fear is gone, replaced by a storm of emotions Chan can’t quite place. Big opens his mouth, hesitates, closes it again.

“You can talk.”

“Since when do you want me? For anything other than an easy fuck?” Big’s brows furrow and he shoves at Chan’s chest. It doesn’t budge him, but Chan steps back anyway. Big’s breath comes in shuddering heaves. “Since when do you want me? You’ve never-” Big shoves him again and fresh tears fall. His voice is strangled by what would be sobs if Big wasn’t too stubborn to let them out. “You’ve never treated me like anything but a hole to fuck and now you want me to be loyal? To love you? To be yours?”

Chan’s expression shutters and he steps forward until he can loom over BIg. For the first time, Big holds his ground. His head doesn’t fall. His eyes burn into Chan’s. “You have no idea what I do for you.”

--

Big’s spine has gone liquid and his soft moans have turned into breathy pleas. “Chan. C’mon, please. Ch- Sir, please.” He’s too tired and needs this too much to keep up the combative facade.

Chan curls his fingers, grinds his knuckles over Big’s prostate and squeezes Big’s cock hard enough to hurt. He watches Big’s eyes flutter shut. His own dick throbs when his moans pitch up. He could make Big come just like this: with rough fingers inside him and a little pain. He could fuck him when he’s loose and oversensitive. He could make a mess of this cocky, bratty young man with too much ego and nowhere to put his self-loathing or misplaced anger.

The sun peeking over the horizon reminds him that he doesn’t have time for breaking Big this morning.

“Just-” Big grits his teeth and pulls Chan down to kiss him and beg directly into his mouth. “Just fuck me. Fuck me. I wanna feel you.” Big clutches his shoulders and cants his hips up to push Chan’s fingers deeper.

Chan bites Big’s wrist and shoves his legs higher to fold him in half. Big’s hands fall to curl white-knuckled in the sheets. “You will.”

He makes good on his word. He pushes Big’s cheek into the pillow so it’s hard to breathe and impossible to feel anything but owned. It makes everything feel sharper when Chan pushes in and buries himself balls deep without an ounce of hesitation for the sharp stretch that burns up Big’s spine. He fucks him hard and leaves him wrecked when he reports to work.

[pfffsfic]

Post-Fall Falls False Starts- Chapter 19: The Confrontation Part 1: Out of the Frying Pan Sunny-Side Up

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[NOTE: This is not a new release, just a port of the chapter that was already published on Ao3.]

...You go up to your friend, you tell him, "Did you know you're an amnesiac?" and then when he says, "No I'm not," you say, "Tell me the name of your arch-nemesis," and he says, "What arch nemesis?" What do you do then? But he might not say that. It might be more in-character of him to say, "I don't remember. Wait a minute, why can't I remember?" at which point you're better off than with the "What arch nemesis?" answer but you still have that question to answer. And you don't have an answer. Come to think of it, he isn't very in-character right now...

These thoughts and more swarmed Sarah like flies to honey as she made her way back to Rob.

It was as if he had been replaced with an entirely new person and, with Sarah's usual improvisation limited by her anxious emotional state, her second-best method of conversation wrangling- meticulous planning- seemed both entirely necessary and entirely out of reach. Rob wasn't unpredictable, but right now Rob wasn't Rob.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked herself. A good opener. Maybe a different tone would be better. "Heyy," she said, picturing finger guns, "how ya feelin'?" More energetic? "Hey! How are you feeling?!" No, too energetic. "Hey... how are you feeling, babe?" NO WAY. She practiced a dozen alternative deliveries, all woefully insufficient. "Heyhowdoyoufeel?" "Hey? How are you, like, feeling?" "Hey hey. How how do do you-"

"I'm doing fine," came Rob's voice from just ahead as he stepped out from behind a tree.

"AH! You heard..."

"Was I not supposed to? Weren't you talking to me?"

"I was. Well, I was practicing talking to you. Because I have something very important to talk to you about, actually."

"Important?" He cocked his head. "Is this about the humanizer machine? You can use my suit if you'd like. I feel kind of bad for snubbing you. Makes me feel a little evil." He held his stomach and Sarah tried to pretend that was the worst thing she had ever seen him do.

"Nooo, um, not that."

"Let's head back to camp and you can tell me about it, then!"

Rob yanked something off the tree and displayed several clusters of those edible white mushrooms to Sarah, who nodded politely despite not being at all hungry. That was another oddity: Rob had to be coerced into eating those mushrooms every single time, even after eating them dozens of times without issue. Here he was smiling about picking them. Wasn't that better? Better than the needless anxiety over eating something safe? Wasn't this-

Rob wasn't Rob. Rob wasn't Rob. It didn't matter what was better or worse. Getting him back to normal was her moral obligation. Unless her moral obligation was actually to keep Rob from becoming a worse (read: more 'him') version of himself, in which case maybe it would be better just make up a lie... darn it, he was looking at the tapes!

"What are those? Is that a treasure chest?" His eyes shimmered as he darted up and looked it over. Sarah gave a nervous little laugh in response.

"It's-"

"Did you dig it up? This could be something plot-relevant, as weird as that sounds. Any markings? Do you have a fingerprinting kit? No, sorry, dumb question."

"I-"

"Am I interrupting? So sorry, continue."

She let out a long laugh devoid of any humor, curling her mouth into a grotesque grimace as if she was about to start crying. "Have you noticed you're an amnesiac?" she asked. There was no shock. There was no follow-up question. Rob put a hand to his chin, closed his eyes- the left one closed first- and then opened them up again- the right one opened first. "I guess I am. Huh," he said. "what does that have to do with the tapes?" Sarah's jaw dropped. The last vestiges of her smile hung on for a second after it happened. "They're supposed to be the cure. The van guy was all cryptic- I know he usually is, but he was extra cryptic this time- and he said-"

"Wait, wait, wait," replied Rob. "give me a second to think about all of this. You realize how sudden you're being, right?"

"I think that's justified-"

"I'm not asking for long. Say, half an hour? An hour? An hour. Give me an hour to think about it. Sarah, please."

The sad look on his face stirred up an internal conflict, the 'give an impassioned speech' side and the 'nod your head and choke out a one-word reply, then sulk away' side jabbing each other left and right in the boxing ring of Sarah's heart. The latter knocked the former to the ground. 10, 9, went the referee in her vision, who, like the combatants, resembled Sarah but with a black-and-white striped hat. 8, 7, 6- the time to change your decision before you look like an idiot standing there and staring is running out- 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! "Okay," she choked out with a tiny nod. Then, without even waiting for Rob's reaction, she turned and did what was supposed to be a sulk but ended up as more of a heartbroken speedwalk. If Rob was watching her leave, she didn't want to know it. Her emotions brought her back to the art clearing and the stick sketches that had been, at this point, almost entirely wiped out by the elements. She didn't quite have it in her to make some more, especially once she noticed a trail of deer hoofprints cutting through one of them, followed by a larger trail of footprints that probably belonged to a bear... or, no, they weren't the right shape for a bear, more like some sort of giant reptile. It wasn't a comforting thing to have in her field of vision. She turned to the possibilities she could see for the future at the moment. Maybe Rob would get his memories back and then Sarah would lose hers and then he'd have to save her, and it could be a moment of emotional bonding? If that happened, she could totally call it now, but that'd be an awkward conversation Rob would have to have with her amnesiac future self. Then again, there were things she didn't want to forget. Maybe she shouldn't fantasize about a situation like that, if this was even fantasizing and not just playing with ideas like a nervous wreck. Thinking about the future was doing her no favors, so she tried the present. The present was full of anxiety and an invisible countdown timer ticking towards the awkward conclusion to an even more awkward conversation. That was no good either. She tried the past. Rob had been Rob up until he wasn't. When was the cutoff point? He had been out of it for days, but at some point he had gone from that to an amnesiac. That wasn't a normal thing that could just happen. Right? It wasn't like it could've just cropped up for no reason, so what could have been the inciting incident? One major thing stood out that she found herself rapidly being forced to acknowledge- she had goaded her sleep-deprived friend into harboring a psychotic demon in his head for the sake of asking said demon some questions, which, looking back on it, was really not an easy thing to justify. None this felt real. None of it had ever felt real, not since day one, not even since the apocalypse back in Elmore. There were never any consequences for her until now. She had been treating this like yet another story that could be deconstructed, predicted, and resolved like a work of fiction, but it wasn't fiction, was it? She wasn't fiction, even if this place was. And now she was gonna have to cross her fingers and use this miracle solution and hope it would work out perfectly. Things always seemed to work out simply, but eventually that kind of luck had to run out- if this was real life. And even if not now, she was stranded, and eventually something just had to come along that would leave her and Rob hopeless.

Wow, she thought, None of that sounded like me.

She went over the facts. Name? Sarah G. Lato. The G stood for... well, she never asked her parents when they were around, but maybe that was for the best since it imbued every day with a sense of mystery. Age? 12, ish. Her role? The insanely obsessive one. It had been foisted upon her, but, if she was being real, she enjoyed the privileges that kind of thing endowed her, and it was nice to know she was guaranteed a place in the lives of her long-term crush(es)... well, that guarantee had run its course, what with being stuck in another dimension and all. Did they even still remember her? She really hoped so, but thinking logically about it made her nervous because it cut into that hope.

So she definitely wasn't an amnesiac. That was good.

Silly Sarah could wait. Serious Sarah was here now, and Serious Sarah would, first, get Rob's memories back, and then she would get a watch because waiting for an hour was hard when you didn't have a good internal clock, and then she and Rob would make a game plan, and then she could let her guard down again.

With that, she got up and headed back to camp, tapes in tow. The clearing was quiet. The fire had been out for a while now and the coals were cold. She looked over at the TV... and the DVD player, with the disc still in it.  Wait a minute. How the heck was she supposed to play VHS tapes with a DVD player?

"Bad news, Rob. We might have to go steal a..." The clearing was quiet, the coals were cold. Rob was nowhere to be found. Sarah kept her cool all the way to the waterfall, where pink mushrooms had erupted all over the ground and sprouted from the rocks, but he wasn't here, either. She called his name a couple of times, and, for good measure, called out a few other one-syllable names that also began with "R". No answer. A wolf howled somewhere far away. The wind chill spiked, or maybe it was just her spine. As she stepped back into the desolate camp, her eyes fell on a set of footprints she hadn't noticed earlier. They were new and they bore the sneaker prints of the human suit's built-in shoes rather than the rectangular prints Rob normally left behind. Part of Sarah's mind told her that if she followed them she'd find a cave with a very full bear in it, but she nonetheless had to know for sure, and so she followed the prints, first to the edge of the woods and then past the edge of the woods, unknowingly retracing a path Rob had taken once before- albeit when he wasn't solid enough to have left any trace behind. Rob had walked with purpose and precision for a good while along the border between the forest and the town and had then turned straight out into the open at a right angle. She was so engrossed in following the trail at her feet that she didn't know where she was until she looked up, at which point her eyes widened and a million new questions and worries assaulted her.

This was it, the turning point. She had him cornered. But why had he come here, of all places? What had he been thinking about, and in what world would coming here help him think about it? Moreover, how was she gonna get him back without exposing herself? There was nowhere to hide for several yards. She'd have to make a mad dash for it. Then again, she could just wait for him to come out, then again, there was that time limit that would make the suit permanent, then again, if Rob didn't remember his past, would it really matter to him if he looked like a human forever? Then again, some deep part of her heart reminded her, Rob wasn't Rob. With a burst of courage that only a situation like the potential ego death of her friend slash frenemy slash possible found family could provide, she left her position behind one of the evergreen and hightailed it for the front door of the Mystery Shack.

[mothboypoison]

For the ask game: "drhdr blood and ink" or "drhdr car"😏♥

Sure!

drhdr blood and ink is gonna be my longfic, which probably won't see the light of day for months and months because I want to make sure I write a lot of chapters before I start publishing anything.

It's basically gonna be Dokuga's quest to fix everything post-canon. I have a really cool (if I do say so myself) villain who's gonna give him a bad time. And Tetsujo will save the day of course!! Here's an excerpt:

Dokuga scuffs the heel of his shoe against the dirt and thinks of the bones buried beneath. The people of Hole set up this cemetery after the battle, to remember the people who were killed. The gravestones are laid out in neat lines and chiselled with names, but there’s no way to know who’s really buried here. That swirling black sludge had trickled through to the world of magic users and seeped out of this pit, but as he looks down at the ground he wonders if there’s any of that hate still lingering in the earth here. A thousand years. More than that. Since the beginning of humanity, hate has been pooling here. Coagulating. Forming itself into a curse. Can it really be banished so easily?

'drhdr car' is a 5+1 things fic... where Dokuga and Tetsujo have sex in cars a bunch of times. It's fully abandoned now (I wrote like, 1.5 of the things) and I ended up using bits of what I did write for 'The Cross-Eyes' Guide to Committing Crimes'. Here's an excerpt (kinda NSFW):

“Let me drive, Dokuga.” Tetsujo grabs his hand and twines their fingers together. “I’ll go just as fast as you do.” “Okay,” Dokuga says slowly. “You can drive. And if you go fast, maybe I’ll reward you.” Tetsujo grins and Dokuga steps aside to let him into the driver’s seat, crossing over and seating himself in the passenger’s side, in Tetsujo’s blind spot. Tetsujo turns to smile at him before he starts the car. It comes to life with a sputter of black exhaust smoke and Tetsujo accelerates off with the wheels screeching. They leave the hideout behind and Tetsujo floors it around the winding corners of the forest road, the back of the car swinging as he takes them too fast. This is how Dokuga likes to drive, which is why Tetsujo’s doing it. The headlights are dim and the windshield is dirty. Tetsujo shifts up a gear and Dokuga reaches over to put his hand on his thigh. It’s a small car, and they’re up against each other with only the gearstick and the handbrake between them. “This is what you meant by a reward?” Tetsujo asks, turning his head to look at him and then quickly back to the road. “Yes.” Dokuga slides his hand up towards his crotch. Tetsujo touches the brakes gently to take a steep corner and slows down. The beams of the headlights swing over the trees and the car slows. Dokuga pulls his hand away. “Go faster,” he says. “It’s dark!” Protests Tetsujo. “There’s so many corners.” All the same he puts his foot to the accelerator again and Dokuga replaces his hand on his thigh.

I abandoned it because I could NOT think of six DIFFERENT ways to have car sex. I do remember that the last one was gonna be them crashing a car and having sex at the side of the road lmao

[blairsanne]

Do you have a scene you really liked but weren't able to fit it in a fic? Would you care to share? Do you have a most recent favorite line or scene? What is it?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

Thanks for the ask!

I don't keep a lot of full written scenes that are cut content... usually they get edited and the original is lost.

Most of the cut content I do have is actually for a project I've yet to publish anywhere and would be spoilery for the final story so I can't share it.

That said, I had originally planned to end Lofn in chapter 4, so I have an unfinished version of that chapter from before it was completely replaced with the much longer story that has unfolded so far (and that currently has many half-finished chapters unpublished).

You stepped toward the JPR building a bundle of nerves. You’d sat in the parking lot for five minutes talking yourself into and out of actually going inside until finally settling on doing it after all. You were still pretty sure that this was going to make you seem clingy and weird to Bragi, but not reaching out to him properly was driving you mental. One of the main reasons you’d settled on moving to Auckland was for the opportunity to find him, and now that you had, it seemed like a waste not to at least introduce yourself properly. Oh my god, I am such a fucking stalker.

After he’d comforted you last time, you’d decided a lot of things; to quit your job, to ask his name - but he hadn’t summoned you since then, and you were starting to think he never would. The longer you left it, the weirder it was for you to show up, right? At least that’s what you told yourself as you pushed open the door.

The lobby looked smaller in the daylight, you thought, glancing at the fridge you’d fetched him a beer from before a blonde stood from her desk on your right. “Can I help you?” Dawn asked, smiling at you. “Hi.” You took a deep breath. “I was… hoping to speak with the owner here?” “Anders? Oh, I’m sorry, he’s out running errands at the moment. Can I ask what it’s about?”

You could read a sort of pity in her face, and you realized that it probably looked exactly like what it was; a fling of his trying to get hold of him at work because they couldn’t otherwise.

“Or I could take your contact info, have him ring you back?” she offered. You nodded. “Sure.” You gave your name and phone number, watching as she carefully wrote it on a message pad. “He won’t know who I am from that,” you hedged. “But if you tell him I’m from Lofn, he should know what it’s about.” She raised a brow, but nodded slowly. “Alright. And how do you spell that?” --- Anders marched into JPR with every intention of shutting himself in his office to rage-work through his frustration with his kin until he could punch out and find a blonde girl to use up the rest of his energy. Instead, he nearly bowled you over before looking up. Dawn “Anders this is-”

“Lofn.” The name fell as a surprised murmur from his lips as Anders came to an abrupt stop, already in spitting distance. Upon the sight of you, his entire system seemed to stall, the chaotic, angry energy from his frustration that morning dissipating completely.

You turned with a hopeful smile. “I don’t think we were ever properly introduced.” You stated your real name and extended your hand. Anders let out a small snort, smiling as he shook your hand. He’d forgotten your name wasn’t actually Lofn. “Anders Johnson.”

It was odd, really, to be introduced suddenly to someone who had been a secret comfort, a secret lover nearly a dozen times. Hadn’t he already complained to you at length about his unappreciative kin? Hadn’t he already memorized your body and come undone inside you over and over, only to have you suddenly disappear? How many nights had he thought about you, wondering if you were just a figment of his overworked mind? Now here you were, in his office in broad daylight and interacting with Dawn.

“Are you here for me?” he asked, his deeper meaning understood by you and not his employee. He’d certainly had a shit day so far, so it seemed plausible. “Yes and no. I was in Auckland, so I was hoping to find you here, but I know you might be busy.”

You had come to find him? Then it wasn’t that he’d somehow summoned you to him. Still, he could use the distraction. Anders turned to Dawn. “Do we have any appointments this afternoon?”

Dawn’s brow was ever so slightly raised as she’d been watching the interaction between the two of you. Anders did seem to know who you were, if not your name. Knowing how he was, she was suddenly concerned that he might leave the office with you and not return.

“We have a meeting with the florists in an hour.” “Alright.” He nodded and turned his attention back to you, gesturing to his office behind you. “We have a bit of time. Let’s go over what you need.”

Dawn picked up a notebook from her desk. “Shall I come take notes?” Anders didn’t look back at her as he led you toward his office. “I’ve got it covered, Dawn. But if you could prepare some bullet points for our next meeting?” He shut the door before she could reply, locking it with a flick of a latch.

You stood awkwardly just inside his office. “It’s really okay if you’re busy with work, I just-” “You didn’t come to comfort me?” His hands naturally found your waist, gaze searching your face and flitting between your mouth and eyes. “Do… you need comforting?” You certainly wouldn’t deny him if he did.

Concern etched your features as he appreciated your subtle makeup and the simple, elegant dress you were wearing. He was trying to decide if he liked you better dressed up or in your pajamas when he realized you’d asked him a question. “It’s been quite a day,” he admitted. “I’m sorry to hear that,” you said honestly, your hand reaching up to caress the side of his handsome face instinctively.

He closed his eyes and let your soothing aura wash over him even more, the adrenaline that had propelled him into the building now a distant memory. 

“As fun as randomly teleporting to you without warning has been, I thought… Maybe if you wanted to see me when you’re not in crisis…” you trailed off and shrugged, unable to look at him. This was definitely stupid of you. “Lofn on speed dial.” Anders smirked, passing you his phone. “Keen.”

[guardianofscrewingup]

This is exactly it. ^

So I'm a writer and want to get published and I was looking at chatgpt out of curiosity in a "will this ever replace the job I want to do" kind of way and I put in some premise stuff and plot stuff and was like "hey chatgpt, write this first chapter" of a book.

Now this was for the first chapter of a book I'd already co-written with my writing partner. It already existed. I didn't plan to use the chatgpt version. I wanted to see how that version compared to our version.

And it sucked. The things it came up with were trite and very tropey and boring, and you could tell were lifted from a million badly-written book summaries and Ao3. The thing I wrote with my friend was still funnier and more lively (esp since my friend is very funny.) It dealt with stuff thematically in a way that chatgpt couldn't, with us grappling with some mental health stuff rooted in personal experience.

For a different book, I tried different ideas, different prompts, asked it plotting stuff, compared to what I already had plotted.

And that also sucked. What I'd already planned was less tropey and more personal and more about some life-changing personal experience. It couldn't even come close to even the premise idea I was going with, because the premise idea I was going with had to do with my own perspective - whether people like that book or not, it is a specific-to-me perspective.

While experimenting with it, the only, and I mean literally the only thing I think it could be useful for for writers is as a glorified dictionary search. I did find it was useful to be like "hey chatgpt give me occupations that could work as surnames that can be used as given names, and link to your actual sources" or "give me a list of roots of [specific language] I can use to make up a name with, also give the etymology and links to your sources" or "give me some old-timey English surnames with X vibes from Y time period, with sources" or something. (All with requested links to sources to check it wasn't hallucinating and actually pulled it from at least somewhere.)

And that was marginally useful bc it had pulled a lot from stuff like dictionaries and wiktionary, could link to it for me to check for words and etymology that were there but would've taken a lot of time and sifting to find. The skill to filter through a ton of minutiae, if anything, wastes time you could be learning or doing things of actual meaning. Just like a calculator is a time saver if it's not math that it's very important for you to learn or do in your head.

But when it comes to acts of thought, of creativity, of memory, of research for actual topics that are important to learn, it is so so bad. AI should, honestly, at most be used for it's normal and healthier uses - to make it easier to search and catalog very minor information like a glorified dictionary search, or perform very limited functions. That's a thing that narrow AI already does and has done and with things like auto-correct, bot detection (like flagging bots for propaganda or hate speech slurs), speech recognition for voice-to-text, etc. etc.

Cataloging minor info that no one could possibly memorize like dictionaries to cross-reference, because there is no one that can actually memorize whole dictionaries, is one thing. Just like auto-correct is useful because no one can know how to spell every single word, even if it's their native language. Just like speech-to-text is useful because it helps someone communicate but doesn't communicate for them.

But when it comes to broader stuff, we can think, we can communicate, we can research and learn important things on our own, we can analyze things, we can create, and hell we can even learn math when we do need it, on our own.

If AI isn't a limited-focus time-saver that saves us time so we have more time to think, learn, and create, and is the thing that does the thinking, learning, and creating for us, it's a problem.

generative AI literally makes me feel like a boomer. people start talking about how it can be good to help you brainstorm ideas and i’m like oh you’re letting a computer do the hard work and thinking for you???

[phlistopher]

Silence-d no More

I wrote a humor column in college for the Hofstra Chronicle under the pseudonym Silence Doless, a nod to Benjamin Franklin I didn't come up with.

I was very proud of this work at the time. Against my better judgement, I've decided to republish the series here.

This is the first column, originally published September 17th, 2007.

Well, Hofstra is upon us once again, and as everyone starts settling back into classes, dorms, and binge drinking (or starts for the first time, for all you wild and crazy freshmen), I thought it prudent to take pause and reflect upon the hard work of our dedicated professors who each and every day educate the next generation. And by this I mean make fun of them. For grade related reasons, I won’t target any one person or persons, but rather focus on general trends.

Have you ever had an English professor? Good, then you’ll know what I’m talking about. To them, over analyzing a book comes as naturally as it doesn’t to anyone else. What, may I ask is the point of a story that requires a PhD to fully understand? A statistically elitist point, that’s what.

Recently I was asked to read The Sound And The Fury, by William Faulkner. There seems to be a law of physics stating that all college English professors love assigning incredibly dense and confusing books in which all the characters think extremely deep thoughts such as “my life sucks”, “everybody’s life sucks” and “you suck”. The Sound and the Fury was particularly confusing: half narrative, half stream of conscious, and no way to tell the difference between the two. Luckily chapters had handy dates, which firmly grounded the reader in a specific time. However inside the chapters there would be random time jumps in the middle of sentences. Thankfully these were indicated by italics…but not always. Sometimes, you just had to guess.

Yet all the mind-bending motifs, metaphors, stylistic choices, etc. paid off in the end, as Faulkner had succeeded in conveying the deep message underpinning the entire book, a message that resonates deep in the core of all who read it. If you lean your ear close to the page, you can almost hear Faulkner saying, “I’m better than you.” So to entertain myself while reading, I routinely wouldn’t.

Another quirk of some English professors is that they assign students their own book (You all know who you are, and with any luck, you don’t know who I am…or perhaps you think my name is Silence Doless). More than being simply unethical, it’s downright awkward. Picture this: you’re sitting in class and out of nowhere your professor starts illustrating a point with something he or she wrote. What if you don’t think the professor’s stuff is any good? You obviously can’t just say that (unless you happen to be writing this column…professor blank, I don’t like your work). Now you’re screwed into two options the rest of the semester. You could,

Not talk and lower your participation grade, or

Lie and say the professor’s book is so good that one day it will replace the Bible in popularity.

There is also a third option involving air freshener, thumbtacks, and a live cougar, but few among us posses the iron will necessary to carry it through. And so I say we fight back. Long enough have students suffered under the pretentious weight of college English professors. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time we took a stand! As for me, I’ll be finishing The Sound And The Fury.

[romana-after-dark]

Heyo, it's the anon from earlier who read the main TWW story last night. I just read Going Under and it was great!

The ending was really nice despite joel not facing any real consequences. Didnt really feel like a darker ending, but I get it.

I usually stop reading stories once pregnancy comes up, but this was so good that I had to keep reading. I had to know what mc would do with her circumstances (I lowkey thought she was gonna kill joel at some point)

I love mc's confession to maria about the manipulation and I love that mc now controls the whole town!

In this timeline, Tommy brings up alot of... conflicting feelings for me.

(SPOILERS BELOW)

Now personally..... I don't think I'd ever forgive tommy for getting with june and falling under Joel's orders again... but that's just cos I was rooting for tommy to end up with little one the whole time in the main canon story 😬

I'm glad she called him out on his bs though. Maria and little one deserved better.

But I also really liked Tommy's little speech to ellie.

(When I was talking about confrontation between tommy, joel, and little one in my previous mssg, I meant the one where tommy was forced to leave for a bit. Not the one from this timeline. Just in case there was any confusion...)

BUT MY BOY LORENZO?! AND ZACK?! OUCH 😭 Unforgivable imo.

Also, I just saw that the anniversary for this fic is coming up! And you're re-writing it! That's great! I'll be seated.

Idk if I'll read Ellie's story in the canon timeline, but you'll probably see another one of these long ass messages if I do.

Lmk if these mssgs are too much. It's all just my thoughts at 2am. I can stop or shorten them.

Side note: I just realized just how many of your stories I've been keeping up with accross your accounts. Love your work 👍🏼 I hope you have a peaceful break.

Hello!!!!!

First of all, they are absolutely not too much. I really love long comments like this, especially talking about little details, like Tommy talking to baby Ellie about another life, he would’ve been her dad. I wrote going under after I wrote ghost of you, Ellie story where Tommy steps up for Ellie and takes care of her and loves her so much so that was emotional for me and having to split the two universes.

I will say that you absolutely do not have to read ghost of you. There’s little one, there’s no smut, nothing like that, so I understand if it’s not your thing however, I do think it really wraps the story together really nicely and shows everyone’s life together coming through And I think it really makes for a satisfying end, but again not required at all

If you’re curious about life after little ones death, but don’t want to read Ellie‘s whole thing, or if you think you want to read Ellie‘s story, there’s three bonus chapters that focus on Tommy, Lorenzo, and Zach and their life with little Ellie. One, better than revenge, I think is a particular good epilogue if you want to feel some sort of justice in the world that I created there, just once wanting to see one of the bad guys lose.

And yes, today is officially the day that the wrong way was first put out a year ago and I’ll be really leasing a brief bonus chapter with some insight into Tommy, Jack, and Lorenzo, and kind of life for the Raiders

And I’m rewriting it, hoping to publish it as a dark novel, with a few minor changes it’s already in a U, so it’s not like it’s a rip off of the last of us or anything, but things like the twist when it makes sense, and of course the names will be changed

Fun fact, reworking, is that the baby will be born a boy, which is why Joel is so willing to give up the baby. He wanted a daughter, essentially to replace Sarah, so he’s not uninterested in the baby boy, but I think it makes more sense because In the wrong way it really didn’t make a lot of sense for Joel to let Tommy go so easily with Ellie. But to be completely honest with you that series could be difficult to write emotionally and I just didn’t have it in me to draw out the scene longer, and I rationalize it was in shock and triggered by little one dying in his arms.

And although the wrong way was technically a dark ending as Joel got what he wanted, and Lorenzo and Zach and Jack and Maura all died. I was really proud of little one in the end with being able to stand up to Tommy, Maria, and especially Joel for her family. She made the best choice that she could make in the best life that she can make for her family and for her children and making a better world for the children of their little town now. People won’t have to suffer the way that her and Zack suffered.

I appreciate you so so much and for your kind words right now, and I hope you’ll check out the bonus chapter when it comes out!

You are so loved 💕

[jcmarchi]

Activision Blizzard CEO Bobby Kotick Steps Down Next Week

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/activision-blizzard-ceo-bobby-kotick-steps-down-next-week/

Activision Blizzard CEO Bobby Kotick Steps Down Next Week

Activision Blizzard CEO Bobby Kotick has announced he’s stepping down from his position on December 29. The news comes two months after Microsoft officially completed its acquisition of the developer/publisher. 

While it was previously announced Kotick would remain as CEO throughout 2023 to help ease the Microsoft/Activision transition, it had been believed (though not confirmed) that he would step down on January 1, 2024. Although his actual departure date is only a couple of days earlier, it means Activision Blizzard will be kicking off 2024 without Kotick at the helm for the first time in over 30 years. 

Microsoft has not yet named Kotick’s replacement. According to The Verge, several other Activision executives will be departing the company through March, including vice chairman of Blizzard and King Humam Sakhnini and chief communications officer Lulu Meservey, who leave in December and January, respectively. 

For now, the remaining leadership at Activision Blizzard, such as Vice Chairman Thomas Tippl, Blizzard president Mike Ybarra, and King president Tjodolf Sommestad will report to the recently restructured top brass at Microsoft Gaming, namely its president of game content and studios, Matt Booty. 

Kotick sent the following email to employees addressing his upcoming departure:

Extraordinary People,

Over the years, my passion for video games has often been attributed to Pitfall!, River Raid, and Kaboom!. I love those Atari 2600 games, but the game that first captured my imagination was Mystery House, developed by Roberta and Ken Williams. I played it on a borrowed Apple II night after night while in college at the University of Michigan.

Mystery House was a text adventure with some primitive sprite-based graphics. (Fittingly, we now own Mystery House and the company that published it, Sierra On Line.) The world in which the game was played was largely left to the player’s imagination. I envisioned rich, vast worlds with all sorts of interactive, animated life that would enable players to fulfill their varied aspirations—all in a simulated universe that offered unlimited possibilities for challenge, connection, and fun.

Forty years later, as my last day leading this company inches closer, I marvel at how far the talented people at our company have come toward realizing the great potential of games. You have transformed a hobbyist form of entertainment into the world’s most engaging medium. It has been the privilege of my lifetime to work alongside you as we broadened the appeal of games.

Perhaps the most important part of my job has been to help bring talented people together, provide the best resources possible, and foster an environment that encourages inspiration, creativity, and unwavering commitment to excellence.

I cannot adequately express the pride I have in the people who continue to contribute to our success and all those who have helped throughout my 32 years leading this company.

We are now part of the world’s most admired company. That isn’t an accident.

Phil Spencer has appreciated the magic of ABK for decades. When he approached Brian and me two years ago and proposed acquiring the company, it was immediately obvious that the combination of our businesses would enable us to continue to lead as the list of capable, well-resourced competitors grows.

Phil shares our values and recognizes our talents. He is passionate about our games and the people who make them. He has bold ambition.

As we move into our next exciting chapter, you could not be in better hands.

I will always be profoundly grateful to the people who contributed tirelessly to building this company and I am confident you will keep inspiring joy and uniting people through the power of play.

With gratitude and appreciation,

Bobby Kotick

Kotick became Activision CEO in 1991 and has spearheaded the company’s growth into one of the biggest publishers in the industry. Most notably, he led the acquisition of Vivendi Games, which led to the merger with Blizzard in 2008. Despite the massive financial success he engineered for the company, Kotick has been criticized for oversaturating the market with popular franchises such as Call of Duty and Guitar Hero. Most recently, he came under fire during Activision Blizzard’s sexual abuse/discrimination scandal that began in the summer of 2021, where he was accused of ignoring a number of employee harassment complaints for years, leading to many employees and fans to call for his resignation. 

In an email to Activision Blizzard staff discussing the organizational changes shared by The Verge, Xbox head Phil Spencer had this to say about Kotick’s departure.

Under Bobby’s watch, Activision Blizzard in its many incarnations has been an enduring pillar of video games. Whether it’s Call of Duty, World of Warcraft, Candy Crush Saga, or any number of other titles, his teams have created beloved franchises and entertained hundreds of millions of players for decades. I’d like to thank Bobby—for his invaluable contributions to this industry, his partnership in closing the Activision Blizzard acquisition, and his collaboration following the close—and I wish him and his family the very best in his next chapter.

What do you think of Bobby Kotick’s departure and what do you think it means for Activision Blizzard going forward? Let us know in the comments.

[robynx]

The queue lets you stagger posts over a period of hours or days. It's an easy way to keep your blog active and consistent.

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Timezone: Europe/Dublin (change) Note: This timezone only affects the queue schedule, as well as timestamps on custom themes. The publish times on posts below are displayed in your local timezone.Shuffle Queue

 Thu 5:40 PM

 robynx reblogged

chickenoptyrx

Gohans back there havin the worst day of his life- meanwhile raditz is braggin to anyone thatll listen about how strong his nephew is :〕

[Context: thisd be at the first way-station right after they left earth. Raditz is gettin gohan some armor before they leave again to meet up w nappa and vegeta- since hes gotta replace his armor too, hes taking the opportunity now to show off how much damage the untrained 4 yr old managed with a single attack.]

138 notes

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 Thu 8:20 PM

 robynx reblogged

dbcalendar

Ready for our 3rd artist?! It's none other than:

🔥 /GoketerHC 🔥

You think you can guess their character?

⬇️Time to speculate ⬇️

#woohoo 🎉#awesome#artist#alert#excited excited excited#DBCalendar#Artistreveal#DBartist#DBZ#Fanart#DBCalendar2024

6 notes

Post

 Fri 5:40 PM

 robynx reblogged

dailycupofcreativitea

Them 🥹

#aww <3#cuteness#like this#this just makes me so happy#squeeeee#goku#gohan#good parenting#love them… See all

474 notes

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 Fri 8:20 PM

 robynx reblogged 

loreofthe-frit-z

“Her Resolution, His Origin” part 1 - 1/3

The sequel of “The Iron Woman”, and is also chapter 5 of “The UNSPOKEN” webcomic series (originally named #truten in highschool au). Can be read as a stand-alone work, but reading the previous chapter or the whole webcomic is still recommended.

Super brief summary: Goten and Trunks were enjoying some last summer days near Goten’s place, and Chichi fell asleep while reminiscing about her youngest but growing up son. We’re basically in a flash-back from her dreams.

NEXT PART (loading…)

Other information:

This series is also being uploaded slowly to Tapas.

If you want to support the project, or want to catch the early content, or exclusive Patreon content, here’s the link if you’re feeling it ✌️

#Yesssssssss#so excited for this#amazing art#as always tbh#We're doing this Chi-Chi's way!!#dragonball#gohan#chi chi#manga style#comic… See all

65 notes

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 Sat 5:40 PM

 robynx reblogged 

zorua-adorable

negativefeedback-teenFollow

👏🏾Education 👏🏾is 👏🏾a 👏🏾right,👏🏾 not👏🏾 a👏🏾 service 👏🏾

Pass along and use the shit out of them

No one should own knowledge, and the pursuit of knowledge should be guarenteed.

petrichormerakiFollow

👏👏 NO ONE SHOULD OWN KNOWLEDGE AND THE PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE SHOULD BE GUARANTEED 👏👏

robynx

Say it with me.

Education and the right to access knowledge is the right of every human on the planet. That's regardless of status, gender, sexuality, race, disability, money, government policy, or any other divide we place on ourselves.

This mean you too.

You have that same right to knowledge.

#Most of these resources are free#Some have extras to buy#But there is a wealth of free published information out there#accessing#is the start… See all

212.2K notes

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 Sat 8:20 PM

 robynx reblogged

b00knerd1o1Follow

robynx

Me, acting like a pendulum swaying between the two with each new story....

~ Evidence your honour? I present RobynX's AO3 account

*sighs*

#my new target?#write one with both#muhahaha#fanfiction#fandom#ao3 writer#ao3#not me#must be someone else#why are you reading the tags?… See all

356 notes

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 Sun 5:40 PM

 robynx reblogged 

artsuyuu

bahnloopi

Saiyan Handshake

Sento Saiyans don't really understand basic form greetings like that but they do have a very firm grip.

Sheeri (share-ri) does understand what he's saying, she just doesn't understand why he has his hand out like that. That's what I meant by (basic "form" greeting).

Gonna need a senzu for that finger tho.

249 notes

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 Sun 8:20 PM

 robynx reblogged 

kipke-art

dbzsenpai

sunshine boy ☀️✨

#squeeeee#theyre so cute#dragon ball#gohan#videl#erasa#dragon ball z

184 notes

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 Mon 5:40 PM

 robynx reblogged

dbcalendar

It's that time again!! Our 4th artist will be:

👀 @etheriumart 👀

But what character? We know... but do you know 😏?

⬇️Time to speculate ⬇️

#DBCalendar#Artistreveal#DBartist#DBZ#Fanart

8 notes

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 Mon 8:20 PM

 robynx reblogged

pixelmacaronFollow

Bunny Suit Galore!!!

17 notes

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 Tue 5:40 PM

 robynx reblogged

yoram551Follow

33 notes

Post

robynx

dbcalendar

dbcalendar

Ready for our 3rd artist?! It's none other than:

🔥 /GoketerHC 🔥

You think you can guess their character?

⬇️Time to speculate ⬇️





woohoo 🎉awesomeartistalertexcited excited excitedDBCalendarArtistrevealDBartistDBZFanartDBCalendar2024

For EveryoneAdd to queue10

It's that time again!! Our 4th artist will be:

👀 @etheriumart 👀

But what character? We know... but do you know 😏?

⬇️Time to speculate ⬇️

[real-life-senshi]

Refining the Shitennou civilian name in my fanfiction because now that I know even just a smidgen of Japanese, I realize how lazy the original names I've given them were... It's one thing to play with puns, it's another thing when I didn't bother with research and end up giving them FAMILY NAMES for first names. LMAO (I feel so embarrassed once I realized this I want to smack my old self so hard on the head.)

Here's what I've landed on for the new names. I'm keeping the live-action actor's family name for Shitennou's family name. But the first names are now changed. It would still play on their hair colour pronunciation-wise (kuro - black, shiro - white, aka - red, kiiro - yellow), but the new first names will go beyond that and their Kanji will actually be meaningful.

Kunzite: 窪寺玄翔 (Kobodera Kuroto)

玄 (kuro) - Black color. Black with a reddish tinge. Dark. The color of heaven. Deep. Distant. Far away.

翔 (to) - Fly. Spread your wings and fly. To fly high in the sky.

I could've just land with "Kurou", but I looked up Kuroto and saw the meaning of "翔". Coupled with "玄" meaning the colour of heavan and "far away", I wanted to use this name as a tribute to Kobodera Akira. :'(

Zoisite: 遠藤志郎 (Endou Shirou)

志 (shi) - Aspiration. To aim to be. Where the mind aims. Compassion. Sign. To remember. To record. A gift for thanks or appreciation.

郎 (rou) - Male. Men. Young men. A word that refers broadly to boys. A retainer

I felt choosing "志" fits Zoisite's character given the compassion he showed for Mamoru and Usagi at the end in PGSM, and he's the one most focused on remembering the past life.

Nephrite: 松本赤人 (Matsumoto Akato)

赤 (aka) - Red color. Nothing. Bare. Sincerity. The equator. Communism.

人 (to) - People. Human beings. Humanity. Every single person. People. Grown-ups. Adults. Personality. Character. A word used to count people.

I wanted to use the word "人" in Nephrite's name to referencing that Nephrite was the only Shitennou to be given a civilian identity in PGSM and had a character arc in his human form. As well, combined with "赤" meaning sincerity and bare, it worked well with how I see Nephrite in this second life - an honest and candid man not afraid to speak his mind and share his feelings (especially with Ami)

(Also I find it funny it literally can also mean "red man" hahahahah)

Jadeite: 増尾輝狼 (Masuo Kirou)

輝 (ki) - Shining. Glittering. Brilliant. Splendid.

狼 (rou) - Wolf. A mammal of the canine family. A metaphor for something as ferocious as a wolf. To be frightened. To be dismayed.

I chose "輝" for "ki" because of what I want to achive with Jadeite's character in Echoes of Time. "狼" (wolf) being canine to me attributes to his undying loyalty as we see in PGSM, and his ferocity when defending his comrade and those he chooses to dedicate himself to protect.