#perhaps I will paint him idk I don’t know !!!! I have motivation though

[noxchievous]

Just a few tim doodles ..

[channiesposts]

bang chan nsfw alphabet

felt like i wanted to do smth like this bc i’m stressed and sad abt life and i think writing helps me not think abt the bad things in life <3 lmk if you want this w other members, bad things are constantly happening so i’ll have enough inspiration lmaoo <3333

don’t think i’m gonna add a warning but obvi mdni!! thank u <3

a - aftercare

chan is such a softie, i am too just for him. no matter how rough he gets, he’ll make sure you’re properly cleaned up, hydrated, and calm before letting you go to sleep. this guy is the sweetest person ever, his aftercare will be reflective of that.

b - body part (their face body part of theirs & their partners)

his favorite body part of his is probably his arms or abs. he works hard on them, he’s proud of them. his fave body part on his partner would probably be…everything. idk man, i think he wouldn’t be able to choose just one part he likes about you. if anything, he’d probably say your eyes. or your ass.

c - cum (anything to do with cum)

i’m glad that everyone here makes things abt chan having a breeding kink bc that is it! i feel as if he doesn’t really care much about cum. his own, specifically. he’ll cum anywhere. and he won’t mind if he’s just cum inside you or in your mouth. he’ll still eat you out / kiss you.

d - dirty secrets

i feel like his biggest dirty “secret” is his breeding kink. he knows that it’s smth not a lot of people enjoy. i think his biggest “secret” though is that he has a special little photo album of pictures of you that he jerks off to. he’s also a big pillow guy iykyk

e - experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i saw someone say that he isn’t necessarily experienced but i think he has a good amount of experience. not tooooo much, but he has enough experience to know what he’s doing. he’s a quick learner as well, so he’ll experiment doing something once and get the hang of it. he fs knows what he’s doing.

f - favorite position

missionary. he loves doing other positions as well, but he’ll always somehow come back to missionary. he loves just looking at you, especially when he’s fucking you just how he likes. he also does like it when you’re on top, especially in the studio.

g - goofy (are they more serious in the moment or are they more humorous)

chan has his moments. since sex is such an intimate experience, and considering how rough he can get, it’ll mostly be a bit more serious, but there are times where it’s a little more giggly.

h - hair (how well groomed are they?)

fuck it if i knew, he doesn’t really care about hair ig.

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment? romantic aspect)

this man has had casual one night stands and i stand by that! but, he does like it to be a little more romantic. he’d prefer to have an actual connection w someone but a man’s got needs.

j - jack off

busy busy people have to rely on themselves sometimes. he does it a moderate amount, especially when you’re not around.

k - kink (one or more of their kinks) ((all giving))

we’ve got the breeding kink down. feel like he’s into choking, perhaps sadism (very very slightly). feel like he’s into a bit of humiliation. he’s got a vvv dirty mouth. idk, these are the first ones to come to mind.

l - location (favorite places to do the deed)

in your apartment. he likes to take his time w u most times, so he’ll want to do it somewhere more private, where he can’t actually take his time.

m - motivation (what turns them on and gets them going?)

anything you do turns him on. i saw a post once about how chan loves manicures and painted nails and i think that’s smth that needs to be talked about more. he sees you got a manicure and immediately, no matter how ashamed he is of that though, thinks abt how your manicured hands would look around his cock. he also loves seeing you in crop tops. honestly, he gets turned on by the littlest things you do. you can look at him and he’ll want to fuck you into next week.

n - NO (something they wouldn’t do, ever)

don’t think he’s that into piss stuff. idk the name for it but we know what i mean. tbh, besides that, i don’t think there’s not much he wouldn’t be willing to try at least once. he’ll try it once, decide it’s not for him, and move on.

o - oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill)

prefers giving. he just love seeing what his mouth can do for you. he loves receiving, he loves seeing you on your knees for him, having him just the way you can. but there’s smth abt having you lay there while he’s pleasuring you. seeing your face, seeing the way you squirm, the way you chant his name over and over again. saw somebody once say he’s a pleasure dom and i will die on that hill as well.

p - pace (are they fast or rough? slow and sensual?)

he can be both. he has those days where he will be rougher, will make you call him daddy, will edge you for hours. but he also has days where he just wants to show you that he loves you. he’ll be much more gentle, constantly kissing your face, holding you, and telling you he loves you whenever he catches his breath.

q - quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often)

busy busy people have to rely on quickies sometimes. he’s always so consumed with work and the way they’ve been working, it doesn’t allow him to spend as much time with you as he would like. i don’t think he’s that into public sex, etc but he will drag you into the nearest closet or bathroom and take out his frustrations that way.

r - risks (will they experiment? do they take risks?)

definitely experiments. definitely takes risks. it def takes a couple of times to get him to fully take risks but once he gets there, he will make you dizzy w all the suggestions he has.

s - stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he’s learned to control himself so he can cum with you, after he edged you for hours. he can last a long long time. it depends on his mood, when it comes to how many rounds he can go. some days, he’s down for one, two rounds. some days, he can go for what seems like hours and hours and hours.

t - toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

don’t think he has any toys he uses himself. but if you have toys, he’ll be more than happy to use them on you. won’t do a lot with them but will definitely bring them out once in a while.

u - unfair (how much they like to tease)

i live and breathe the bang chan being a tease agenda. he teases on his lives, who’s to say it doesn’t bleed into his actual life? he teases a LOTTT. sometimes it’ll be for what feels like hours, bc it probably has been. he loves edging you and will continue his teasing until he feels like you’ve had enough. or when he’s had enough and he needs to find his own release.

v - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

i don’t think he’ll be the loudest person but you’ll definitely hear him groan and moan a handful of times in one night. usually just heavy breathes. he knows it drives you insane when he groans right in your ear so, position permitting, he will definitely lean down to let out the loudest grown right by your ear.

w - wild card

jealousy sex with chan. i will not explain any further.

no but he isn’t the type to get jealous but the days that he does see somebody get a bit too close to you or whatever else, he will fs show you exactly how he feels during the night.

he’ll make sure you wear that pretty little butt plug while he viciously pounding into you. he’ll be saying all sorts of things under his breath before he flips you over. will take one look at you like that, spreading you apart and looking at what is his. a breathy laugh leaves his mouth.

“you really are my cockslut, aren’t you? letting me use all your holes, knowing you love every bit of it”

x - xtra piece of imagination

dirty talk with him gets a hell of a lot dirtier when he’s about to cum. will be saying all sorts of things.

“want me to fuck you full, yeah? gonna take every single bit of me. fuck, look at this baby. look at how you’re taking me in.”

y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he’s in his mid 20’s so it’s calmed down a lot but it’s hard to be around you, see you looking like that, and not want to do something with you.

z - zzz (how quickly they fall asleep after)

my insomnia twin 🙌�� jk but i think he’d fall asleep after you fall asleep. he makes sure you’re comfortable before he even thinks about sleep. in the meantime though, he is rubbing your back and making sure you’re at ease, hydrated, and just feel good.

edit : x is originally x ray but i didn’t feel comfortable with saying how “big” he is and all that. ik my blog is all about talking abt how much of a whore i am for bang chan but i personally have a limit and i think it’s talking about how big he is. i’ve written stuff about him fucking you into next week but i really do draw the line at like “oh how big is he” or “how many veins”. i’ll talk about him being “big” when it comes to a lil drabble but other than that, nope. idk if this boundary is reasonable or not but i just can’t see myself writing about it. sorry if this disappointed you :,(

[godsofhumanity]

ATHENA COMPLEX (WEBTOON) | REVIEW

aight so i’m sure a lot of people have heard about this comic available on webtoon.. i think it’s getting popular again because it’s just come back after being on break for like 3 years lol,, anyways @greekschist recommended this webtoon to me, and now that i’ve finished season 1, i’m here to share my two cents about it :D

OVERVIEW: Suffering from heartbreak after being rejected by Poseidon, goddess of wisdom, Athena, becomes human to seek revenge... but as a high school boy. There she plots to befriend Poseidon’s reincarnation, Adrian, who doesn’t have the slightest clue about the world of the gods. But will her sweet vengeance be thwarted by other opposing forces, or will her own one-sided love hinder her plans?

RATING: 4/10. it’s a little bit weird,, plenty of creative license used in here. if you like cheesy “rom-com” with a dash of heartbreak and trauma, then this is probably the comic for you <3

AVAILABLE ON: webtoon

spoilers undercut!

THINGS I LIKED:

- character designs!!!!!!! i didn’t like everything, but Poseidon’s design was really awesome.. the blue and gold palette worked wonderfully for him. i also like Metis’, Iolo’s, and Ares’ designs ^-^

- cliffhangers. i think something this webtoon does really well is leaving cliffhangers.. little bits of information are very slowly revealed, but without just giving it to the reader in one go.. i think this helps draw the reader in.

- the art. the opening panels that appear to look like gold, resembling depictions of mythology commonly observed on ancient greek pottery are done so well!!! really breathtaking to see. 

- fighting scene are also done marvellously,, even if at times i felt the plot was a little wishy-washy, i continued to read just to see the fighting panels because they’re so gorgeous to look at <3

- interesting take on the original mythology. i really like the idea that Gaia curses all the gods because she’s sick of their fighting and can’t take it anymore. i also liked the way the idea of Athena being the prophesised child was dealt with- it’s something i think about a lot, like, what if Athena actually did have a brother who took over from Zeus.. it’s interesting to think about.

- relating to the previous point, i think it’s a cool idea that perhaps the prophecy will still come true- even though Athena is a girl, and the prophecy tells of a male child, Athena goes around parading as a boy on Earth, so in a sense, the prophecy is still being fulfilled, and that’s pretty clever to me.

- Ares!!!!!!!!!!! i know he’s meant to be a piece of shit, but i really like his character arc,, and i mostly continued to read season 1 because i wanted to know what was happening with Dogres.

- the way that no character seems to be painted in black and white- there is no “absoluteness” in this story- no one’s right and no one’s wrong, there’s just perspectives and experiences. i think it’s easy in mythology to just point fingers, but this webtoon avoids doing that, and i really liked that even the worst of the bullies still have sides that might appeal to the audience.

- Adrian being aware of his water blessing.. manifesting Poseidon’s horse and completely bashing those two hunters of Artemis were probably my favourite scenes.. the art for the action scene is done sooo well

- Ares debut panel where he emerges in a tornado of fire,,, we get it Ares

- Apollo healing Shawn. finally some good fucking news

THINGS THAT I DIDN’T LIKE:

- Athena’s whole motivation. it seemed to me from chapter one itself that Poseidon has only ever approached Athena from a fatherly, or brotherly perspective. it’s fine to feel admiration for people, especially older people, who have become father-like figures,, but the way she’s thrown such a massive temper tantrum just because he said that he didn’t return her love in the way she wanted it... idk... seems awfully spoiled of her (and i’m glad Poseidon said no).

-  - the way that Poseidon looks so godly, and then Zeus looks like blonde nagito komaeda.... i am NOT a fan.

- adding to the previous- Apollo’s design.. people in the webtoon comments were like “apollo senpai notice me” but he looks so average,,,, idk,, i just don’t get it.. 

- Nike... she’s kind of annoying,,, and she keeps on changing her mind about what she thinks is good for Athena and idk,, probably the top character that gets on my nerves

- the whole plot where Athena was like “oh sibyl i’m actually only talking to adrian because i like you~”... it felt unnecessary and also weird,, especially the episode where she comes home and nike is like “what’s wrong?” and iolo tells her that “Athena has never taken advantage of a human before”... why start now, Athena?????????

- Athena’s muscular design,,, literally NONE of the other titans are depicted with as much muscle as she is so i just don’t quite understand where it came from?? also Poseidon saying “oh i don’t see you as a woman because you wear armour all the time” but like?????? what????? i know that’s the whole point, but i just... hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

- Athena not even changing her name when she pretends to be human... why would you not just make it like “Athens” or “Athenian”... 

- those two huntresses in the last few episodes of season 1 acting all “badass” and hunting down Adrian,, when in fact they were actually just bullies,, using magic on a literal child who has no idea wtf is going on... 

- Artemis and Apollo being so cold to each other

- i hate the way Athena seems to be the only one who “cares” for humanity and even then,, she obviously doesn’t care enough because she’s plotting to absolutely demolish a small human child solely because he just happens to be Poseidon’s incarnation (through no fault of his own)

- i mean,,, how is it that there is NO ONE else who even moderately cares for humanity??? is this not a portrayal of the gods of humanity?

[wienerbarnes]

Feel Good

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,817

Warnings: lots o drinking (its new years!), mentions to being nervous/self-doubt, drunk sam wilson, perhaps some smooching idk guess u gotta read it man

A/N: ngl I have like 4 cheek to cheek one shots that I wrote yesterday instead of working on school work or art commissions so lets enjoy this before that motivation spark dies okay enjoy my two fav ppl ever

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“Agent 51, stay behind, please.”

You meet Sam’s eye, confused for two reasons - this was supposed to be a quick debriefing after a mission, and he’s never called you out specifically before. You give him a nod and obligatory Yes, Captain before making eyes with Sharon, who gives you a quick smile before exiting the room with the other agents. That doesn’t give you anything. Is there already another mission? But if there was another mission, wouldn’t Sharon have stayed? Wouldn’t Bucky be here? Does it involve Bucky? Does-

“I want you to start training with the other recruits when they begin next week.” Sam informs you once the door closes behind the last person.

Oh.

This Friday is New Year’s Eve, meaning Monday begins the seven-week training led by Sergeant Barnes for wannabe Avengers Agents, before whoever remains continues on to undercover and psychological training with Sharon and other legendary retired agents of the field.

“Are you... sure?” You didn’t think there was a problem with the training you were currently doing with Sam, in fact, you thought you were doing pretty good for someone who hasn't followed a strict workout regimen in ten years. This would be the first time being around so many people with a greater chance of interacting. All of the meetings you go to have made you a little more comfortable with larger crowds, but you haven’t actually spoken to anyone.

“You know your file well?”

“Yes.”

“Then, yes, I’m sure.”

“I want you to continue your training with me on the weekends, though.” Sam adds.

Working out seven days a week? I might’ve considered prison if I knew this was a part of the deal.

“Won’t all of that all the time be hard?” You offer, suddenly scared for your biceps and hamstrings.

“Are you asking me if training to become a team member of the Avengers is hard?” Sam gives you a pointed look.

“...Right.” You stand, assuming that was all he had to tell you about.

“Also, there’s a little party Friday night. Nothing crazy, just me, Sharon, Bucky, Sharon and I are bringing some dates, maybe a few agents, but they usually go out and party. They don’t want to hang out with us more than they already have to around here.” He mentions as you reach the door.

Your hand pauses on the knob. A party. What if they pull some Carrie shit on you?

“A party?” You ask, eyebrows failing to conceal your silent fears as they tilt upward at him.

“I promise, it won’t be anything insane. I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I didn’t think it was something you could handle.” He reassures.

Friday comes sooner than you’d hoped, and your anxiety still lingers, as much as you’d hoped it’d go away by now. You glance at the time, 8:00 in the evening. This was the time Sam told you everything would more or less be starting, but that you could go whenever you wanted, if you wanted.

You’ve actually been ready for about an hour, just too scared to go to the common area where everything was taking place.

You feel like you’re a teenager again; being invited to an event where you feel as though you won’t belong. An event where you know that everyone is so drastically different than you. You wonder how you would feel if you were different; if you weren’t so fucked up with trauma. Would you be a party person? Drinking and dancing through your twenties? Hooking up with men and women, maybe even having relationships?

You’re dressed in a short lilac romper, layers of silky ruffles around the tops of your thighs, and thin straps across your shoulders that cross against your back. The neckline is a tad low, a complimenting V that you’ve filled with layers of necklaces. Nude platforms put you about two inches taller without the fear of a heel, and you’re nervously picking at your recently painted green fingernails in anticipation for what the night will bring.

It’s not too late to not go. You can just tell Sam you ended up not feeling well, tell F.R.I.D.A.Y. not to let anyone bother you. Just take all these clothes off and put on your pajamas, and we can pretend you haven’t been thinking about this night for the last three days and spent all day thinking about what you’re going to wear, how you’re going to act, reviewing your file just in case anyone asks you anything - we can just pretend you were going to be staying in the whole time.

You stand to begin slipping the straps from your shoulders, mind made up, when a knock sounds at the door.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., who is that?” You whisper out.

“It’s Sergeant Barnes, Agent.” The A.I. relays in an equally hushed voice.

You sigh and walk over to the door before opening it a few inches.

“Hey! You look so cute! Party’s getting started, let's go!” He steps back out to the hallway, an excited smile on his face which drops when he focuses more on the frown that decorates your own face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, immediately stepping back towards you.

“... I’m nervous.” You all but whimper out. Why do you have to be such a baby?

“Why are you nervous?” Bucky asks, his voice calm as he genuinely wants to know what’s troubling you, not an accusatory tone found in his voice.

“Because there’s going to be a lot of people, and I don’t know anyone, and I’ve never been to these kinds of parties, or at least I haven’t in, like, a decade.” You ramble, exasperated with yourself.

“Would it make you feel better if I stayed with you the whole night? Either here or down at the party?” He offers, ready to give up one of his favorite nights for you.

“Bucky, I’m not going to make you -”

“You’re not making me, I’m offering. Besides, Sam’s all over the girl he brought and Sharon’s halfway drunk with her little boyfriend; they’re not going to be much fun for me tonight.” Bucky justifies, sounding like the eldest of three having to deal with their younger siblings.

“C’mon, you’re really gonna waste a dress like that? And your hair looks all nice! And - wait a minute, are those new earrings?” Bucky butters you, showering you with compliments in a sweet tone, metal hand reaching out to touch at the earrings hanging from your ears, the small tink sounding right in your ear.

A girlish giggle escapes you at his teasing. “Alright, alright, you’ve convinced me. But you promise you don’t mind staying with me all night?”

“I promise, there’s no one else I’d rather spend the night with.”

The common area isn’t how you expected it to be; there’s definitely more people than Sam promised there’d be, but it’s not the thousands of strangers you’d imagined in your head.

“Let’s get a drink,” Bucky’s deep voice speaks in your ear, and you’re not sure if it's his voice that makes you shiver or his warm hand in yours, but the two of you make your way to the bar.

“What do you drink?” He asks you, after ordering the name of some drink for himself.

“Uhm - I don’t, I don’t know.” You mutter to him. He scans your face for a second before rattling off the name of some other drink to the person behind the bar.

You never really drank; sure, you had the shitty beer as a teenager or perhaps a celebratory shot during your time in the Navy, but nothing you remember explicitly. You weren’t even old enough to drink in the Navy, you had turned twenty-one when you were already with HYDRA.

“Are you excited?” Bucky interrupts your thoughts of lost childhood.

“Excited?”

“For the New Year!” Bucky exclaims, and you give him a smile even if you don't understand the hoop-lah.

“Sure?” You offer.

“C’mon! There’s so much opportunity and promise that comes with a new year! A million chances to grow, to experience things, to learn, to have fun. A new chapter for everyone.” He explains.

You smile at his positivity. A new year should be good for you based on his logic. A new chapter. You’d be starting your training. Getting ahead as an agent. Using your powers to help for good. Maybe making friends. Maybe getting closer to Bucky.

The drinks arrive and you appreciate that Bucky knows you so well; the drink in front of you is bright pink, different fruits crowded around the rim with a curly straw sticking out. His is a deeper brown, in a short, crystal glass, figures. Matches his whole dark and emo aesthetic. He stands before you in black jeans and a black buttoned shirt, black leather jacket to sit on top.

You take a sip of your drink and immediately have to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from spitting it out. Am I that much of a lightweight or is there actual gasoline in this?

“Sorry, maybe I should’ve warned you, babe,” Bucky chuckles, amused at your reaction to a mixed drink. “I think there’s, like, four different things in that.” He wants to cringe for you, but all he can do is look at you with a cheeky smile while you struggle to swallow the sip down.

“Christ, Bucky, I’ll blackout by ten at this rate, are all of the drinks like this?”

“Honestly? Probably. Everyone loves getting drunk on New Year’s.”

…

The night is not nearly as bad as you were thinking it was going to be. The room is lit up in different colored lights and screens; all of the TV’s display the annual countdown in Times Square but are muted so that music can be played the whole night. People are dancing, drinking, laughing, having the most fun you’ve seen people have in a long time. It’s 11:51 now, and everyone’s gathering closer and closer in anticipation for the countdown into the new year.

You and Bucky are gathered together with Sam and Sharon, and their respective dates. You don’t think you’ll let Sam live down how drunk he is; you never thought you’d feel so much joy seeing your Captain slurring his words while making jokes and telling stories.

Sharon leans over to you and whispers, a gentle hand on your arm, “Can you come to the bathroom with me?” A small giggle escaping her because she, too, is equally drunk. You give her a nod and hand your drink to Bucky to watch over while you’re gone.

The bathroom makes your ears buzz with the silence you encounter and Sharon walks over to the mirror to retouch her makeup.

“I just needed a little breather, have you tried the drinks at the bar?” She asks, and you laugh knowing that that’s the reason she, and everyone else at the party, is wasted.

“Yeah, Bucky proceeded to warn me after I had started drinking.” Laughs are shared as she reapplies her lipstick, a bright red shade.

“Do you know who you’re gonna kiss tonight?” She asks, smirk playing on her lips.

Shit, I forgot about that. How awkward would it be if you’re the only one not having a partner to kiss at midnight? Don’t worry, plenty of lame, single, psychotic basket cases that hear voices don’t kiss people on New Year’s Eve!

“Oh, uhm, I probably won’t be kissing anybody.” You inform her with a nervous laugh.

“I think you should kiss Bucky.” She states matter-of-factly.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, why not? He’s not here with a date and he surely won’t kiss a stranger. I think last year Sam ended up planting one on him at midnight.” She laughs, a few hiccups interrupting her as she remembers that night.

As much as you want to join her in laughing at the thought of Sam drunkenly grabbing Bucky cheeks at midnight and smooching him, a pit opens up in your stomach at the thought of kissing Bucky.

“C’mon, T-minus five minutes.” Sharon tells you, interlocking her fingers with yours as she drags you back out to the common room.

The two of you rejoin the group and Bucky hands you your drink back, though you don’t feel much like drinking anymore, stomach suddenly knotted up with nerves. You’re torn because you don’t necessarily have a problem not kissing anybody, but now all you can think about is the urge to press your lips against Bucky’s, new year or not.

A husky voice whispers in your ear, “You okay? You look a little pale, you wanna head up to your room?” Bucky looks at you with concerned eyes, willing to go up to your room two minutes before midnight to ensure your comfort and wellbeing.

“I’m… I’m fine.” You reassure him, giving him the most unconvincing smile ever, even you wouldn’t believe you. He silently pulls you away from the group and pulls you into a hallway.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

His pet names are, for once, not helping right now.

You take a large gulp of your drink, stinging a bit, but hopefully it’ll give you some courage and relax you a bit. Bucky chuckles and gently takes the glass from your hand, “Hey,”

“I’m fine, just have some jitters, is all.” You try and convince.

You take the drink back and grab his hand with your open one and take him back out to the open area, a sixty second countdown already starting.

You quickly down the rest of your drink and discard it on a nearby table as the entire room begins chanting. Sam is the loudest, one arm wrapped around the waist of his date and the other wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky’s smiling at his enthusiasm, yelling the numbers just as loud as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to bring you in closer to the group. Sharon is on the other side of you, but her focus is on her date as they look into each other’s eyes, just waiting for the clock to strike twelve so they can share a kiss.

The ball drops on the TV and the room erupts in cheers and “Happy New Year!”’s. Sam unhooks himself from Bucky and turns to grab his date's face as they share a laugh-filled kiss. You glance at Sharon and you suspect her and her date began sharing kisses a few seconds early. Bucky’s arm is still wrapped around your shoulders and he tugs you closer so you’re face to face.

His grin is wide, “Happy New Year -”

His excitement is interrupted as your courage finally kicks in, and with a hand on either side of his face, you pull him in and press your lips to his.

It takes him less than two seconds to reciprocate, dropping his hands to your waist and pulling you closer as your hands slide from his cheeks to his neck, wrapping themselves around.

There’s no more anxiety. No more nerves. No more doubts or second-thoughts. No more voices, no more people in the room, no more music; it’s just you and Bucky in that moment.

His lips are soft and sweet, a strong taste of the drinks he’s had tonight with a mix of sweetness that’s all him. He smells like man and like Bucky and your senses are overwhelmed in the best way possible. Tingles travel down your spine at the feeling of being so close to him.

You’re so, so, so good. Sure, Bucky’s imagined kissing you, but he never thought it’d feel like this. You’re sweet like cherries and you’re soft all over and your perfume is flooding his nose and it’s all he wants to breathe for the rest of time. Your skin sends sparks of fire through his fingertips as they rest on your bare back and slide down to your silk-covered waist.

You pull away and Bucky sneaks a few extra pecks before pulling away completely, not removing his eyes from yours.

“Happy New Year.” He wishes you with a love-sick smile.

“Happy New -”

“Happy New Year, Tinman!” Sam yelps in both of your ears, arms wrapping around Bucky and disconnecting him from you, but you can’t help but laugh at Sam trying to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek while he attempts to wrestle him off.

You feel electricity all over watching him, butterflies not only in your stomach, but all over your body, in every organ, in your bloodstream, in your head, everywhere. But as much as you feel as though you’ve been struck by lightning, you feel good; you feel really good.

A few months ago, you wouldn't have imagined that this is how you were going to be starting the new year. But here you are, and you feel good.

[tsuki-sennin]

What's that? I can't hear you over liveDevil! It slaps too hard! I'd make my neighbors listen to it if I could!

-Y'know Captain Kadota, you probably got demoted for good reason. You fucked up real bad in the first episode, and you're not making a good case for yourself here.

-Ikki, don't let Gen-chan become a youtuber, he'd be fucking miserable. ...his editing actually kinda reminds me a lot of Ryutaro Okada's channel, that's kinda funny.

-So literally everyone in town has only petty problems they easily could've googled, ok.

-Yeah Ikki, get annoyed!

-Seriously, liveDevil is fuck music.

-Are you only concerned about the ones themed after your favorite Riders Karizaki?

-Wakabayashi... are you saying that the traitor is... one of our own supposed allies?! Kadota's been acting rather... unusual since he got demoted. Did any of you guys happen to see him... airduct? Or perhaps... It's like that super famous game everybody loves with the funny spacemen and we have to root them out! Yeah, Space Station 13!

-Oh boy, the influencer. How could you turn into a origami furry in front of all these people? Do you know how much you're worrying your grandpa?

-I see... so the three amigos, as I've taken to calling them, didn't have anything to do with this guy? Oh great, he has a massive audience too.

-WORLDSTAR, WORLDSTAAAAAAAAR! Kick that Deadman to the curb! ...Vice, you literally went on a rampage just last week, which would be like 30 minutes ago in toku binging time.

-I guess "dishing out justice" would be a good motive for making a Deadman. It's also a bit of a nice callback to monsters from previous seasons who had the same motives. Judge Roidmude, Grasshopper Yummy, Cygnus Zodiarts, Triceratops Dopant...

-Damn, Revi's opening fire! ...wait, the Lion can multiply? How does that work, do the Deadmans tear off pieces of their contracts and let them grow and fold?

-Well, at least you learned your lesson Masao. I sure hope nothing happens later in the episode to make you relapse into demon

-Justice... I guess everybody in the Igarashi fam has their own

-OH MY GOD, GEORGE IS PLANNING MURDER

-NO, DON'T MAKE AN APOLOGY VIDEO, NOBODY WOULD CARE ABOUT THAT

-I know you're not okay with this either Daiji, but just going along with it isn't gonna help.

-...he has a fucking rubber chicken.

-OH GOD, WE FOUND HIM!

-Y'know, I don't think anyone would've been mad if you smashed the stamp earlier, man.

-Idk if I said this, but goddamn. Julio, Olteca, your battle forms are fucking sick. ...so you're a wolf and squid, huh? After Colonel Zol and Shinigami Hakase? Classy reference. ...what kind of form does Aguilera-sama have though?

-...in Vice's defense, I totally would be mugging the camera and showing off too if I could.

-These shootouts are so cooool...

-No fear, no pain! It's Lion Genomes time! ...I can't possibly imagine how awkward coming up with Remix positions must be for the suit actors. ...on the bright side, Japan's gay porn industry must benefit a lot from studying those positions.

-Kamen Rider Evil's a real sussy baka, aren't they? Looks very cool though, I love the paint job aesthetic and the look of their sword. ...idk if I'm really gonna be shocked by who their identity is though. The only reasonable guesses we have are Captain Kadota or Daiji. ...you know that Toei's not gonna reveal them to be Sakura though, right? The cowards.

-Alright that's it, see ya.

[joonapeach]

a 2k word drabble about detective oc who’s after wanted criminal artist taehyung except the catch is that they used to be in love in uni until their differing ideologies and means of achieving justice put them against each other

ok enjoy maybe i’ll write more idk 

*

“Thinking of running?” you smile obnoxiously at him. Staring him up and down, you let your gaze linger on the handcuffs on his hands at the table, all with the intention of rattling him.

Whether he notices or not, he’s unaffected. He smiles back just as obnoxiously, perhaps an ounce too much, making you uneasy. 

“Why would I ever dream of running?” Taehyung grins, looking up at you with big doe-eyes. “I’m right where I want to be after all. It’s been too long since I last saw you.”

You ignore his statement, pulling up a chair from the side of the room. His eyes don’t take a second away from you, and it bothers you. It bothers you that Taehyung is still the same each time you cross paths. 

From behind the one-way glass of the investigation room, all your superiors and colleagues were probably watching intently. They got to be the lucky audience to your reunion with the man you once almost gave your heart to.

Keeping your watchful colleagues in mind, you straighten your back and give a stoic glance towards Taehyung. He looks at you the same as always. But you weren’t the same as his memory. You had a career now, and your career depended on this right now - your career depended on stopping the crimes that had created chaos in the country.

Your career depended on a fool like Taehyung.

“We’ll keep it simple and start from the beginning,” you clear your throat, sitting down across from him. “Walk us through your crimes.”

“Through my crimes?” he cocks a brow, laughing in disbelief. “Come on, _____. Don’t be boring.”

“Mr. Kim-”

“Mr. Kim, now am I?” his eyes glint with the question, unabashedly winking. 

You glare at him, your hands shaking ever so slightly before you quickly regain composure. Not here… not now. 

“Talking about my crimes… that’s no fun. All I do is paint some walls. I’m more curious about you now. How’ve things been lately?”

Your jaw drops. “Paint some walls?” you repeat in a scoff. “You vandalize the most important buildings in the country, Mr. Kim. And that is only a small portion of your crime. You and your group are arsonists.”

“But my art is pretty though, isn’t it?” he smiles softly, focusing an intent stare on you as if searching for an answer. “You used to love seeing all the new things I’d make.”

You freeze, your head subconsciously snapping to see the glass through which all your colleagues were watching. Of course, you couldn’t see a thing from your end. But you could only hope things from their end didn’t look so compromising for you.

“Tell us how Mosaic chooses the targets. What’s your motive?”

“Ah… that reminds me. Remember in college, every time I’d come running to show you a new piece, that dick, Theo, would always be there. Do you still let him hang around you?” Taehyung tilts his head, curiously blinking at you. Your eyes widen at his evasion of your questions. “He should thank me, you know. The only reason you ended up giving someone like him a chance was because I dropped out. We all know if I’d stayed till graduation, it’d be us that-”

“Mr. Kim, what is your motive?” you jump to cut him off, loudly enunciating each syllable so to block Taehyung’s rambling words from reaching your audience’s ears. He gives a small smile at your frenzy before responding.

“I just wanna make the world a prettier place, _____. You know that’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he says sincerely, looking innocently at you. 

“Why is Mosaic burning down so many institutional buildings these last few months?” you press on. “You all would never aim to go that far last year. Something’s changed.“

“You’re right. We’re in a hurry now, so we stopped wasting time on the baby steps,” he shrugged, smiling once again. “That and I started running out of designs. It’s hard work for me to churn out that drawing every month, y’know?”

You could scream in your frustration. He’s giving you nothing. 

Your fists clench, your eyes shoot to the clock and you’re realizing Taehyung’s game. Three minutes had passed in this room and he hadn’t said anything of value yet. Any longer and you’d be removed from questioning him and still no closer to putting an end to a year long case.

But you know better. If someone like Taehyung and his group could be stopped with a few questions and threats of torture, you would have caught them all already. 

Exhaling, you decide to take a different approach. “How do you decide what to paint?” 

He beams, pleased with your different question. “Hmm...  just this and that, you know. I give it some thought. We’re telling a story here so the message has to be clear in the art. Otherwise we’re just burning down buildings without a point,” he pouts. “You know, you should all spend some time on Reddit, _____. They’ve done a pretty good job analyzing my art. Better than you anyway… which sucks, considering you should know my-”

“Tell us what your plan is,” you interrupt as soon as you feel him begin to digress. “These attacks are becoming too frequent and large-scale now. There’s bystanders and deaths at each one. Do you realize what you’re doing?”

He pauses, blinking. “I’m making a change, _____. While you and Theo and Yunseo and all of you all were wasting hours in class trying to learn how to stop the bad guys, I actually went out and did it first-hand. We’re not the villains here.”

“You’re killing innocent people each time you mark a building with your art, Taehyung,” you plead softly, holding his stare. At the sound of his name, his eyes shut. “Please. Reconsider this. Work with us and I promise you, we can give the change you’re looking for.”

“We’ve done more in the last three months than your teams have in this year,” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, _____. But I’ve already chosen my side.”

Your body stiffens and any sense of mercy you were willing to have washes away.

“Well, you’ve chosen the wrong one,” you say as a matter-of-fact. “You were caught painting the wall at the railway station. Now, Mosaic’s prime artist has been arrested, the station has been evacuated and lookout teams are there hunting your group,” you announce, carefully watching his face to note his defeat.

There’s nothing. He barely even blinks, before sadly looking up at you and saying, “You should really go see my art, _____.”

You halt, raising your brows at his words. “That’s all you want to say?”

“I always do the hidden details you like to look for,” he says with a grin he fights to keep off his face. “You should go see.”

You scoff. “What are you talking about, Taehyung?”

His eyes twinkle with a look that reminds you all too much of the boy from your past.

“You know. You said you liked seeing something for the first time and thinking you understood it all, but when you looked closer, you found something else entirely. Didn’t you say that’s why you chose to become a detective?”

Your blood runs cold and your expression drops. Perhaps to another detective, to any one of your colleagues watching this interaction, this would seem like a passing remark. Maybe a little strange, but everything that came from Taehyung was granted to be a little strange.

But to you, the words carry a different weight. You could blame it on the years spent by his side or you could blame it on the feelings that you carry around like a guilty burden. Nonetheless, there was something in what he said that pricked you.

“Finding something else?” your brows furrow as you jump up from your seat.

He nods, pausing to look at you for a moment too long. “Hm. Finding something else, somewhere else? You were always good at figuring things out.”

You stop for a second, blinking at him before running towards the door of the room. Your heartbeat rings in your ears and you burst the door open before screaming like a madwoman at all the people inside. 

“CALL EVERYONE! WE GOT THE WRONG LOCATION! IT’S A TRAP!”

Your few words invoke manic across the room. It’s all in fast motion now, and your head spins from the way everyone in the room races to move. Your colleagues rush out the door to contact other teams, you hear your superiors call the officers on lookout to tell them to change location. There’s a few moments where it all moves so fast and you can barely recognize anything around you.

Then suddenly, it stops. Your captain yells in madness, sinking to the floor and it’s quiet across the room. He smashes the phone that was on his ear to the wall.

“What… what happened?” a detective from beside you asks hesitantly. 

Another detective shakes as she stares at her phone. “This was a distraction,” she slowly says. “All of this… they… Mosaic is burning City Hall to the ground,” she cries.

For the second time in the last five minutes, you feel fear overcome your body, threatening to tremble you till you’d have no control over yourself. But you quickly steady yourself, just for one last thing.

You already know what awaits you as you run back into the questioning room, but for the sake of the small chance you’re wrong, you still check. All that remains inside is two empty chairs and a pair of handcuffs lying on the table.

Kim Taehyung was gone. And he left nothing to show for it.

*  *

You’ve felt crazy many times because of him. You remember in university, you once spent hours everyday researching art history and painters just to have topics in common with him. You would change your route back to your dorm to pay visits to places he’d be or art galleries, learning more about him just so you could be close to him. Perhaps the time you felt the craziest of all was when you found out he had dropped out of university to join a group of misfits who’d claimed they would change the world, and considered whether you should follow him in his descent to madness.

But you steady yourself. You always do. You pride yourself on following your instinct and your logic, not your heart and whatever it calls.

That’s, after all, why you’re here today. Standing at the wall in the empty railway station he’d last painted before pulling off the biggest attack the Mosaics had done yet. It only seemed right to look for any traces of Taehyung in his art. 

Once you approach it closer, you take it all in. He was right. You should’ve come to see his art all this time.

No longer was he the artist he was when he was the boy you loved. No, now he was… something much more magnificent now. His style had evolved and he tackled much more complex and large designs now. You were honestly impressed at the way he had managed to create a mural like this inconspicuously, before letting himself get caught.

The large strokes of the red paint create an imaginative face of a man, and inside the details, Taehyung’s included a variety of colors and details.

You stare at it for a few moments, looking at each edge of the picture. Minutes pass by before you try to tear yourself away and head home. 

As you take a few steps back, you give the wall one last glance. You look at every corner and every edge, at the eyes of the man, his mouth, his hair. You think about Taehyung coming here in the dead of the night, taking the utmost care to paint every small stroke and detail to create this piece. You wonder if this was another world, would he come running after you just as he once did to show you what he’d created. The thought makes you laugh and you slowly walk away.

But then you stop in your tracks. The right shoulder of the man catches your eye. Something in the style of the shading, the strokes, the way the colors mix perfectly everywhere else but here… it all looks off to you.

Instead of stepping closer, you cautiously take a few steps back. The darkness of the station hinders you from focusing carefully on the spot and you turn on your phone flashlight, pointing it at the wall.

Tilting your head, you can see it now. What seemed like a small error of technique on an otherwise perfect piece, now read something out to you. Deliberately hidden in the details. 

You exhale a chuckle before walking away. You two were a predictable cliche. Against all odds, you wound up standing against the boy you once thought would always be by your side. And against all odds, he was running from the girl he wanted to stay by.

And although they shouldn’t, the words on the painting make you happy. Because you know despite everything, you mean them too.

I’m sorry. I love you.

*

i had an alternate ending (you can read it here) but i decided against it bc i like the way i wrote this one more hehe anyways if u read this thanks

[1lymark]

yellow paint blues || renjun

→ summary: a few hours before renjun needs to submit his art project, he realizes that he’s run out of yellow paint. luckily, you’re there to help (or not.) → genre: fluff, humor, college!au → words: 3.2K → a/n: dedicated to mary, my lovely patron. as always, this got way out of hand and got longer than i anticipated. i hope you enjoy!

Renjun had thought that the art course would be an easy A. He hadn’t needed the easy A to begin with anyway––his grades in every other course were beyond stellar, so most people would probably assume that he was doing it to pass time or to gain extra credits. Or so, that was what he wanted people to assume.

In reality, he had signed up for the course because you had wanted to. It wasn’t like you asked him to accompany him; he recalled you mentioning the course in passing a week before registration and somehow, that little comment had wormed its way to the forefront of his mind as he clicked “ADD COURSE” to his already packed schedule.

“Should be easy enough,” he assured himself, patting his own shoulder in untimely congratulations as he thought of the extra three hours in a week that he would get to hang out with you. After all, Renjun’s art skills weren’t shabby, so surely this could not go wrong in any way possible.

He forgot, in his hubris, about the tantalizing taste that procrastination had to offer. The sweet nectar that he had yet to conquer in all his years of education had once again enticed him like a fly to a fire. It was inevitable, and yet… how could he have been so blind?

So there he was, in his room at one in the morning, with more paint on his fingers than he had on his canvas. The blank surface taunted him in his mind, laughing hysterically at the cruel fate he had assigned to himself in the name of love.

The project should have been simple enough: it was a self-expression piece, wherein the objective was to present what makes them happiest. His professor was lenient to the point of negligent, allowing her students to use any medium they pleased for this first assignment. Macaroni and glue, string and popsicle sticks, scrap paper with a drunken doodle… She was open-minded to anything under the sun. However, the thing about Renjun was that he was an overachiever to a fault, so even though he could’ve theoretically slapped a Spotify playlist together on a CD and called it a day, he simply was not spiritually able to hand in anything less than perfect.

So of course Renjun chose to paint for his first project. Painting wasn’t even his strongest suit, but he wanted to challenge himself, or so he said when he had loudly announced that to you almost a week ago.

A week ago. He had an entire week to finish, with no other pressing assignments or tests in between, and yet he still found himself in this predicament. Thus was the fate of unending suffering that every university student must face.

You had texted him a few hours ago, asking to see a picture of his work. Despite your excitement to take this course, you had always been a bit self-conscious about your art pieces, though you have never expressed this to anyone. Renjun could see it in the way that you would close in on yourself when people ask to see your work, quickly redirecting the conversation elsewhere once people have their eyes off of you.

Not him though––you always showed each other your works. It made Renjun’s heart race just a little bit every time you exposed this side of yourself, and so he made a promise to always give you any sort of reassurance you might need.

Unfortunately for this time, he was a bit too busy trying not to drown in his own irresponsibility to answer you properly when you had texted.

to: renjunnie from: y/n-chi

hey!! how’s your project holding up? can i see yours? i finished mine just now and idk if i’m happy with it tbh…

to: y/n-chi from: renjunnie

not… going well… send reinforcements… T_T i think i’m gonna rot now…

to: renjunnie from: y/n-chi

eh??? the infallible huang renjun is suffering??? from a first year art assignment??? someone call the catholics, because i think the rapture is coming

to: y/n-chi from: renjunnie

y/n don’t be mean >:( this is srs!! i think i have inhaled enough paint fumes to fail a drug test by now

to: renjunnie from: y/n-chi

tsk. that’s what you get for procrastinating, babe. sending my thoughts and prayers!! txt me updates so i know you don’t die from paint ingestion ^^

If you weren’t so god damn cute, he would have smothered you (with his love) by now. Even if you didn’t know it, your texts had given him enough motivation to get something on the canvas, even though none of his drafts seemed to be good enough at the moment.

What was it that made Renjun happy, anyway? He liked listening to music, but that was as generic as it gets… Who didn’t like music? He also liked reading and travelling, though those don’t seem to be too appealing to paint either. Some of his friends had joked that he should just paint a bunch of Moomin, so that he wouldn’t really need to paint because it would mostly be white anyway.

Those things just seemed too shallow for him. While they were things that he enjoyed, he wouldn’t want to be that guy who showed up to class with a half-assed doodle and some stupid explanation like “happiness is what you make of it.” No, he would be better than that.

There was something quite obvious that he could use for his project, or rather, someone. It would be too embarrassing though––not that he was embarrassed of you, by any means. He just wasn’t brave enough to do it, not yet at least. Someday, he’ll have the heart to tell you his feelings, but for now… he was stuck with a blank canvas and an emptier mind.

The clock read 3:30AM when Renjun had decided to throw all his morals to the wind and just paint a field of sunflowers out of desperation. He thought that if all else failed, maybe he would submit that and say something about how he remembered going to a place like that in his childhood. It would be a complete lie, since his family hardly went out to nature spots like that, but at least you would like the painting. Sunflowers were your favorite, after all.

Halfway through his painting however, he realized that his tube of yellow paint was looking awfully empty. He squeezed it as much as he could, scrapping it out as much of the remaining paint as physically possible.

“Crap,” he moans out, looking at his half-colored canvas forlornly. There were still at least six sunflowers to be painted, though he had already painted most of the background. This couldn’t do; he had no time to start over. The art supply shop didn’t open until at least 9AM, but his classes start shortly after that. There was no way he could pull this off at this rate. Unless…

He reached for his phone from his table, almost tripping over his easel in his haste to grab it. He knew you were an early riser, though he doubted you’d be awake even at this ungodly hour. He just hoped to whatever entity up in the clouds that you would pick up your phone and not start cussing him out for ruining your sleep. Though it was hard to imagine you getting mad at him for anything, as he knew you always had a bit of a soft spot for him.

To his relief, you answered on the fifth ring.

“Hello?” You murmured quietly, voice still sounding rough with sleep. Renjun could hear you smacking your lips sleepily, the mental image of it all eliciting a grin on his face. He wanted to know how you looked right now, with your impossibly cute bedhead and droopy eyes.

“Y/N? You awake?”

You yawned, the sound of rustling sheets accompanying your reply. “I am now, I guess. It’s… 4AM? What gives? You don’t normally wake this early. Unless…”

“Yup,” Renjun sighed, head hanging in defeat. “Kinda haven’t slept all night. The project isn’t coming along too well.”

“Aww,” you cooed. Renjun perked up a little at your tone.

Then, “Tough shit.”

Renjun flinched at that, staring wide-eyed at his phone before returning it to his ear. “Excuse me?”

“Well, if you hadn’t been goofing off the entire week before, you wouldn’t be in this mess, would you? Now excuse me… I have another two hours of sleep before my alarm is supposed to go off, so I’ll see you later! Peace,” was all you said before promptly hanging up.

The room was silent as Renjun stood in the middle of his room, shocked beyond all belief. Was that really you that he had just spoken to? Where was the kind, empathetic friend he had come to know and love? Perhaps lack of sleep really does change a person for the worse.

Undeterred by your rejection, Renjun decided to head over to your house anyway. Was he probably going to get his ass handed to him for disturbing you even more? Probably. Was he willing to face the consequences of your fiery wrath? Absolutely. Was he going to enjoy getting berated by you as he stared, lovestruck, at your cute pajamas and angry, puffy eyes? Undoubtedly.

Luckily, your house was only a few blocks away, although Renjun still ran all the way because he was (maybe, slightly, on a little bit) afraid of the dark. So what if he screamed a little when a cat jumped out of some trashcans? No one saw, and that was all that mattered.

He arrived at your place in record time, the dark window panes indicating that you were still, in fact, asleep. He tried opening the door to no avail, not being able to find the spare key you used to place under the mat. With no other option in sight, there was one last thing he could do…

Tap. Tap. Tap.

There was something tapping incessantly against your window for a couple minutes now. At first, you had ignored the sound completely, assuming that it was the first drops of rain before a storm. After a while, you began to realize that rain did not sound like that, and it reminded you more like a finger tapping or knocking. That was impossible though, because you lived on the second floor of a shared house. Surely, it wasn’t what you thought it was––

Before you could contemplate further, you phone started to ring for the second time that night, and the pieces of the puzzle immediately fall into place. It was him, that fucking bastard. Grumbling loudly, you grasped your phone against your ear, a chain of swears tumbling out of your lips quicker than any seasoned rapper out there.

“Wait, Y/N! Lemme explain—“

“Renjun, I swear if I go downstairs right now and find you throwing pebbles at my window to disrupt my sleep even further, you better believe I’m calling the cops on you, friend or not!”

“I just need yellow paint!” He cried out, loud enough that you can hear him from outside. You hiss at him to keep quiet, worried that his noise would also wake up your roommates.

“No, Renjun! You have to learn to be more responsible! You can’t always expect things to go your way without proper preparation! 4.0 GPA or not, I’m not letting you keep doing this––hold on,” you paused, stopping mid-sentence. There had been loud thunk just outside your bedroom wall. There was a suspicious lack of response on Renjun’s end, though you can hear his heavy breathing through the speakers. You slipped out of your covers, padding your way to the window. You peered over, squinting blearily at the darkness of the night.

“Renjun? What are you––“ You gasped before finishing, slamming open the windows and letting the cool breeze gently brush your face. The sight before you was not as great as the wind, though. “Are you fucking crazy? Stop climbing before you get hurt!”

“Almost there,” Renjun grunted, his hands grasping tightly on your ledge. You watched in stunned silence as the gangly boy hoisted himself over and into your bedroom with the ease of someone who had done that at least a few times before. It took you a while before you could find your bearings as you stood, mouth agape, at the beaming boy now standing before you with neon green paint on his cheek.

“Hey,” he greets, smiling.

It took all the energy in your body to keep your hand from meeting his cheek (either to caress him or to slap him? No one was for certain.) “You could’ve fucking died.”

Renjun lifted both his arms into the air and shook his legs around. He shot you a cheeky look, faking contemplativeness. “I feel pretty alive, I would say. All limbs in working order, as far as I know.”

Oh my god. You were friends with a maniac!

“This is so unlike you,” you said. “You’re never this relentlessly annoying.”

“Well, you wouldn’t let me finish my urgent plea on the phone, so of course I had to take drastic measures! I’m gonna fail this GPA booster course, and then I’ll die, and then it’ll be your fault!” He said in one breath, grin never faltering. As his gaze flitted around the room, he noticed your finished project, sitting on your desk and covered in plastic to hide its contents from the world. “Ooh, is that your submission? can I see?”

You rushed over to it, hiding it behind your back with a huff. “Absolutely not! You lost all privileges from me the moment you called me up at 4AM! Now get out of my house before I really call the cops.”

He pouted, deflating visibly. “Okay, look… I know I’m being a prick right now, but you really gotta help me! I ran out of yellow paint and you’re the only person who can help me!”

You were not sure why, but hearing that reason coming from Renjun of all people was making your blood boil in anger. He went all this way to your house, throwing pebbles out your window like some cliché romcom protagonist, even climbing up a building, just to ask for fucking yellow paint?!

“Are you hearing yourself, Huang Renjun? I’m going to kill you!” You grabbed a few of the still open paint tubes by your desk, squeezing its contents all over his clothes in a fit of rage. He gasped, crying out in anguish as globs of blue and red marred the cute little Moomins on his shirt.

“You did not just do that!” He yelled, slapping the paint out of your hands. You were pretty shocked yourself, though you can’t help but giggle a little at how flabbergasted he looked.

“That’s what you get for being ridiculous, you stupid shit––hey, stop! Put down that cup of paint water now before I––NO!”

Murky black water splashes down your left cheek and onto your pajamas, the gross, cold sensation making you splutter out indignantly at the smirking boy. “Oh my god, you absolute bastard!”

It did not take long for the argument to dissolve into a full-blown paint fight as the two of you sprayed each other with every bit of available art supply in your room. Paint, brushes, pens, and markers were launched into the air, both of you screaming in both anger and delight as you hit the other with every type of projectile imagineable.

Renjun jumped across the bed, searching your bedside table for more ammo once you managed to hoard most of them on your side. It didn’t take long for him to find one of your unopened bottles of yellow paint, and he hooted in victory as he held it up in the air like a trophy.

“Yes, I found it! Ceasefire, Y/N! I got what I wanted!”

“And you think I’m supposed to stop just because you’re happy?” You screeched back, readying a large amount of black paint on one of your paintbrushes like a makeshift catapult. “Drop that paint bottle if you wanna live, Renjun!”

It was in that moment when one of your roommates suddenly barged in to the scene, her entire being blazing with heat as she furiously accessed the room. There you were, paint dripping from every inch of your body, with a similarly painted boy on the other side of your bed with a little 50mL bottle of yellow paint in his open fist. No one made a sound for a moment, afraid to explain what the hell you both were doing, until––

“I’m not even going to ask. Just shut up before I get you evicted,” Yeri growled, slamming the door with the frame rattling in her wake.

“Oh god, she’s going to kill me tomorrow,” you moaned, dropping the paintbrush and dropping your head against your newly painted bed. Not looking at him, you pointed your finger in his general direction, forcing him to stop as he tried to covertly escape through the window. “Don’t you dare move another muscle. You are helping me clean my room before class, or so help me I’ll paint angry eyebrows on all your Moomin plushies.”

That got him moving to help you quickly, at least. With the two of you working together instead of fighting, you managed to get all your bedsheets into the washer and most of the paint splatters removed from your walls and floor in record time. Thankfully there wasn’t much damage on your room, as you and Renjun were the main casualties of the paint war.

While the two of you finished up, you hadn’t realized that the sun had already begun its approach into the sky, meaning that it was time to get ready for class.

“Shit, I won’t be able to shower in time,” you whined, fruitlessly picking at the paint clumping your hair together. You gave Renjun the evil eye, who had the decency to look sheepish at least.

“Wait, hold that thought,” he said, grasping your hand in his as he appraised you with an odd look. His brows were furrowed, thinking deeply as he traced the strokes of yellow and blue on your cheeks, all the way to your neck. His proximity made the blood rush to your face, and you hoped that the paint was doing a good job covering your flush.

It was an odd sensation, feeling so aware of your friend’s presence. You never noticed how cute he looked until that moment, when he was so focused and thoughtful like this. He had always looked handsome to you, but for whatever reason, the dash of red on the corner of his lip never looked more enticing than it did then.

After a bit more staring, he smiled softly at you, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear with the sort of gentleness that you have come to associate with him. Your stupid, funny, smart, lovable Renjun. The only boy that you could never stay mad at.

“I think I have my submission for my art project right here,” he said, simply and honestly.

You giggled a bit, not quite understanding. “Well, you got the yellow paint, right? Shouldn’t you head home and try to finish your painting before class starts? You got a bit of time, I think.”

He shook his head, cupping your face like something to be held. Like something to be admired. There was something blooming inside your chest; a field of sunflowers, all of them reaching towards the light right in front of you.

The sun grinned at you, and the sunflowers rejoiced. “Nah. I think I’m good. More than good.”  

[praphit]

Gretel & Hansel: White people, hear me!

I know, I know, some of y'all were hoping that my next review would be Taylor Swift's "Miss Americana". 

I'm sorry to disappoint you. Why and how is she still making movies anyway? I thought that everyone associated with "Cats" had been banned from Hollywood.

Now, it WOULD be cool, if Taylor got involved in Horror. I'm thinking that a bunch of horror monsters could get together to track her down; kinda like a contest. They would, you know... do their thing to her, and then bring her back from the dead in the sequel, and repeat the process. Every now and then, they could throw in Justin Bieber or someone else with his same level of annoyance. BOOM! Franchise! So, donate to Praphit Productions (millions), so I can make that happen. I'll just CG Taylor Swift in, if I have to; I'm sure she'd be ok with that.

Just picture Jason Voorhees or Kanye West chasing her.

No, people, I'm here to talk to y'all about Hansel & Gretel!

No, no, no, I'm sorry! "Gretel and Hansel!"

I almost forgot about that blow up in their studio. Y'all remember that?

Sophia Lillis' (who plays Gretel - SHE’S GREAT IN THIS-BTW) first day on the set was raw! 

She walked up to the director and was like "Bleep this bleep! Who is Hansel? Who the bleep is he?! No one knows that actor! What is he, like 5 years old? Bleep him! How is his name first?! So, a woman can't lead a man, huh??! It's always gotta be Hansel first, right?! And what always happens?! That witch bitch always tries to eat them! Bleep that! Y'all know who I is! I'm Sophia bleeping Lillis! I was in "It" one AND two. What has "Sammy Leakey" (playing Hansel) been in??!

Not a damned thing! I want my name first! You will put it first or so help me God, I will UNLEASH THE FURY!"

Director (Oz Perkins): "I actually like that idea"

SL: "I don't give a bleep what you like! Just make it happen!" 

Then, she went to her trailer, and when she came back out, it was "Gretel & Hansel".

(Hansel’s not even in the shot. Lillis was too raw for him.)

Let's see if Gretel fairs better in this story, now that she's getting the chance to lead.

We all know this Brothers Grimm story. There's a family (I don't know what Gretel & Hansel's last name is... we'll just say "Shakur"). So, the Shakur Family was struck by a famine in the land. Stuff happens, and G & H end up off on their own, in the woods, and eventually meet up with a witch, who later tries to eat them.

White people, hear me! Are you listening? STOP GOING INTO THE WOODS! Seriously, STOP! I'm trying to save you. Black people know better, but y'all... smh. I know y'all like to go hiking, and camping, and taking selfies on mountain tops and shit, but PLEASE... STOP! Nothing good is waiting for you out there!

Quit going into the woods to get footage of alleged monsters/spirits. Quit going into the woods to spend the night in cabins. Quit going into the woods to party on the anniversary of the night that 12 people were mysteriously murdered in those same woods. STOP!

JUST STOP! DAMN!

Some of you might be thinking, "Well maybe Gretel will make it. Maybe now that she's leading the duo, things will be different." Nope, she's white... *sigh* so we all know what she and Hansel did...  went right into the woods.

This movie is mainly from Gretel's perspective. Right from the jump, we see Gretel being pimped out by her mama. Gretel of course declines to become a professional hoe, but when she comes back to her mama for a possible different direction in life, Mama is like "Would it have killed you to get on your knees for your family?! We're starving!"

I know - Mom of the Year.

Dad isn't even around. I may have missed something, but I don't remember where he was, or if maybe he ran away, a long time ago. One of those "Daddy went to get a pack of cigs, and never came back" scenarios. He may be off in a land flowing with Big Macs and Fries, Idk. Or maybe, being that his "selfish" daughter wouldn't put-out, he decided to get to work on the corner himself. Who knows where he was in this movie??

Gretel was def tough though. And she loved her brother! She was very protective of him. There is a scene where there's some sort of vampire creature chasing down Hansel, and Gretel stands up to the creature. That's the type of character that she is in this movie. She's smart, tough, and though sometimes hard on her bro, she loves him very much.

Hansel on the other hand is annoying as shit. And Dumb! Man, is he dumb! I'm surprised that we never see Gretel slap him. But, she is always able to compose herself in the midst of her annoying brother, and keep the journey going. She even calms him down at one point with some drugs. They end up eating some shrooms on their trip. Now, THAT'S love, people! Seeing someone in need of calming the bleep down, and offering them some good shit. What's a road trip without a moment when the group gets high??

There's a Lando-looking character that they meet along the way. 

He doesn't have much of a role in this movie. I'm not saying it's because he's black, BUT he's a fascinating, noble character, who's black and barely in the movie. And they do not trust him at all. I'm not saying it's because he's black... you know what?? - YES! Yes I am saying that!

He saves their lives, offers them food and shelter, and gives them specific instructions that will keep them safe. But, after that (the only character so far that has had G & H's best interests in mind), Gretel immediately questions his motives. White women, hear me! If a black man willingly sticks out his neck for you, IN THE DARKNESS, in order to save YOUR life, that's a man that you can trust. Cuz we (black men) all know, that if we try to save a white woman out in public (even if we succeed), there's a good chance that the cops will still swing by to shoot us. They're thinking just like Gretel is in this movie - "I know it LOOKS like they saved her, but... can we really trust him? - let's shoot him just in case." Granted, this Landoish character sends them off (again with instructions for their safety). They had no quarrels about leaving (and quickly).

So, they runaway from the compassionate black man, who just saved them, and they meet an old lady (the witch) who has black fingers, and house smells a lil like death... and they say to themselves "Let's sleep here!" Ain't that some shit??! 

White people, HEAR ME!

STOP!

They don't even question her black fingers, they just let her handle their food. I question people of whom I don't know, with normal fingers, handling my food, but... I guess that's just me.

Then, the rest of the story is legend.

The production design in this movie is absolutely amazing! If this film had no dialogue, and was just silent, it still would have been a beautiful movie (despite the cannibalism:)

The plot, I felt, was secondary to the cinematography.

Some of you might say, "Well that's nice and all, but is the movie scary? Does the witch, at some point, rev-up a chainsaw, and chase the two kids around her house?" No. "Ok, but does the movie, at some point, have little, pale Asian kids making creepy noises at H & G while they're trying to sleep?" NO! "Yeah, but is there some sort of human centipede action happening in the basement of the witch, and she tries to..."

NO! NO! HELL NO! What's wrong with y'all?!

No, none of that. The story that The Brothers Grimm have painted is horrifying enough. Famine and crappy parenting, leading to witch who wants to eat you... I'd say that's all that's required; the director knows this.

They don't need to use any gimmicks, just the same story (pretty much), a lil dark magic, the mentioned cinematography, and well-placed spooky music keep the movie in a consistent place of dread.

I think RT got this one wrong (59%). I don't have much bad to speak of, concerning this movie. I can't give it an A grade, due to it being a copy of a story that we've seen copied many times before. Plus, there are some ending issues I have with it, that I'll get to in a sec. BUT, this film is a hell of a B grade :)

SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!

SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!

SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I WARNED YOU!

A few things:

Soooooo, Gretel has some sort of connection to the witch that is never explained. Apparently, she has within her, the same powers as the witch.

She ends up sending her bro off to Lord knows where. She sends him off on a horse that she says she SPOKE TO, and he (the horse) will get Hansel there (where? who knows??) safely. So, she's talking the animals now?? When did she pick-up that skill? And where the bleep did she even get a horse?

There's some super grease that her and the witch use to do magic, that is never explained.

Now, none of this took away from my enjoyment of the film, but... still though.

There's a message of false empowerment at the end. Like I said, she abandons her brother, so that she can... fulfill her destiny or something. She has dark magic in her, but she is convinced that she'll use it for good. Like I said, Gretel is a SMART character... what happened to all of that smart? It's like saying "Hey, I have this STD, but instead of tending to it, I'm going to use my STD for good. It's going to be hard, but I've gotta be strong."

WHAT?!

I said "false empowerment". The movie isn't painting a picture of this being a good thing, but the "false" part is subtle enough to where people could walk away thinking it's an empowering message.

You abandoned your brother to become a witch! But, maybe I'm not being fair. Perhaps Gretel will be just fine. Throughout the history of human beings, we've had many people who were in power, and who thought that not allowing their power to be checked was the brave and noble thing to do. I think those times in history all worked out well right??

I could have added some pics to accentuate my last statement, but I feel it might have been a little too real:)

So, instead I'll leave y'all with this slightly less horrifying pic

... and bid you adieu.

STAY OUT OF THE WOODS!

[authoratmidnight]

The more we learn about Sakae the more I’m pissed at how they changed him in the s2 ending and the more I’m sure we’re won’t be getting a s3, or at least non a s3 that follows the manga in anyway.

Cause aside from using the first ep to retcon the last ep, they kinda shot themselves in the foot with the Sakae storyline.

Anime and manga spoilers blelow

The s2 finale went out of their way to make Sakae the antagonist and paint him as a bad guy, which basically spits in the face of what we’re learning about him and the way the scene went down in the manga.

In the manga the spider was the villain of that arc through and through. It used it’s threads/ability to try to manipulate Abeno into freeing it and failing that took control of Ashiya to do the same thing, and when Abeno interfered had Ashiya attempt to kill him. Upon having the sense slapped back to him by a barely conscious Abeno Sakae’s spirit then took control (as Ashiya though he’d killed Abeno and was horrified) and proceeded to unflinchingly use his Influence to kill the spider.

For some reason, the anime left out attempting to control Abeno and had it control Ashiya from the get go (which, ok fine that’s not /that/ big of a change) and had Sakae take control of him sooner and had SAKAE be the one trying to kill Abeno for stopping him from killing the spider. And while he was slapped back to his senses, he proceeded to collapse and pass out once Ashiya took control back, and then Abeno freed and exorcised the spider back tot he underworld. Alive.

Which, frankly makes 0 sense even in the context OF THE SHOW as the spider demon 1) was clearly sealed for a damn good reason and Abeno realized at the start that freeing it was a bad idea cause it would kill them and 2) it was literally screaming moments before about how it ‘hates all humans’ and was ‘going to kill all humans’ when it was freed.

And I’m expected to believe that Abeno stopping Ashiya from killing it and it talking to Fuzzball is enough to make it do a 180 in its ways and decide ‘oh hey maybe humans aren’t all bad and I can trust them. Yeah it was pleading ‘oh I promise I won’t hurt any humans’ but like, fuck, antagonists/villains say that all the fucking time w/o meaning it in an attempt to play off the kindness of the hero. Like, this thing was literally sealed away to keep it from hurting anyone. For decades (if not more). I really doubt a 30 second talk with a human and a fluff ball is gong to make it suddenly be all good.

But back on the topic of Sakae. While it’s true we at that point didn’t know much about him aside from he’s Ashya’s dad, his appearance, his yokai related abilities, that he knew Aoi-san and that he is apparently infamous for using his Influence ability to kill yokai. That’s it.

And as it is the last point should be taken with a grain of salt as we’re hearing that tidbit from yokai who are, quite frankly, very prejudiced against humans. (the Executive literally tried to kill Ashiya were he stood simply cause ‘I don’t like humans’ so you can bet the yokai aren’t going to care *why* Sakae did what he did, just that he did it.

Plus, we’ve never been given any indication that he dislikes or has harmed humans. In fact, quite the opposite. If Ashiya’s mother is any indication he goes out of his way to HELP them.

Case in point, new information we’ve learned seems to suggest (to me at least) that Sakae, may not be all that bad a person. I mean he was friends with and even employed by Aoi, so I can’t imagine them employing someone that dangerous.

We’ve recently learned that, he’s actually quite kind, having rescued a nearly frozen to death yokai and nursed her back to health, and that he seems to have been something of a yokai magnet to the point that his family died ‘under suspicious circumstances’ and all the people that looked after him or were friends with him got sick or injured mysteriously (it’s implied this is due to yokai) so he was something of a loner as no one wanted to be around him. On top of that, Ashiya’s mother seems to have been a yokai magnet herself, although she can’t see them. In fact all the characters that met Sakae themselves have only good things to say about him. Everything else we hear is second hand accounts.

If anything, what we’re learning seems to suggest that perhaps all the yokai he killed were out of self defence to protect himself or his family. Especially if we look at all the times that he’s taken over Ashiya.

Incident one- The capybara yokai that attack and injured Fuzzball then attmpted to kill Ashiya

Incident two- When Yahiko tried to play a joke on Ashiya and took on the form of the Executive-someone who that long ago had attempted to kill Ashiya, and incident we KNOW left him fucked up. Ashiya’s PTSD kicked in and he thought he was going to die if he didn’t act first.

Incident three- The spider yokai. It used him to try and kill Abeno (and indeed Ashiya did think he had done that) and it was going to kill him.

Each and every time Sakae has taken over it was because Ashiya and/or someone dear to him was facing down a yokai that had malicious intent and he and/or someone he cared about was in life threatening danger (or perceived danger in the case of the second incident, his ptsd overrode everything else so as far as he was concerned he WAS in danger). Sakae is trying to protect Ashiya. Which makes sense considering how much Sakae (and those close to him) apparently suffered b/c of yokai.

As I mentioned earlier the yokai are hella prejudiced against humans so even if it turns out that all the yokai he killed had attacked him/someone close to him unprompted and wanted to kill them and he only ended up killing them in defence/because they wouldn’t leave when he told them to, all they would care about ‘this human killed yokai so he’s a bad human’.

BUT, because of the change at the end of s2, this won’t work. The anime has Sakae as a bad guy who will even attack humans (which, we’ve never had any indication he’d do and with what we did learn it *really* seems unlikely he would do). Which is gonna make it really hard to paint him as sympathetic later on as we learn more about him. Plus the fall out from that event had lasting impacts on the characters AND the story. Can’t run with the ‘you killed a yokai so you’re banned from the underworld’ plot line since, he didn’t kill anything (and it would see weird ban him for almost doing that now when the capybara incident did not get him banned). Can’t have Ashiya working through the trauma that came out of ‘I killed a yokai with my own hands’ cause, that never happened. Any hope of Sakae as a sympathetic character is gone now.

They literally removed an entire plot point and butchered up an other.

So idk how they’d manage a third season that follows the manga storyline short of using the first episode to retcon the s2 finale. Since we don’t see Abeno send the spider off they could, feasibly, get away with pulling ‘Abeno fibbed to Ashiya about what happened and [Ashiya] actually DID kill the spider yokai and what we saw was just what Abeno told Ashiya had happened’. It might seem a big contrived but that’s the only way short write an entirely new story from this point on.

And it frustrates me b/c this is a good series and I’ve love a third season, but whoever was doing the script writing and adapting shot themselves in the foot with their decision on how to end S2.

If you’re adapting a story that’s not finished, and the author has clearly laid the groundwork for character/their motives but hasn’t revealed things in full yet, it’s probably NOT a good idea to decide to tamper with and change what is already known about them. Cause those changes might fuck everything up.

[diabolikgrimreaper]

Grim Reapers: Headcannons/Theories (TRIGGER WARNING)

First, I should say that my headcannons come from the part of the manga where Sacha and Ludger reveal that reapers need to kill themsleve in order to be reapers. I, personally, believe that all of the boxes we see of different suicide methods is a diferent reaper.

Grell: Based on her near obsession with blood, and the color red in general. I believe that her suicide had something to do with her stabbing and/or cutting herself. Grell does not seem to be the type to self-harm, however, she definitely is unstable, and she was mostly unstable when she was human, as well. She may have been curious on what shade of red her blood was. Now, I think that she truly killed herself because she was born a man, or people perceived her as a man when she is actually a woman (she said so herself multiple times). She may have killed herself under the pressure of being transgender and a flamboyant (pan)sexual (it is my headcannon that she is either pan/bi, there is no evidence but idk). I think that she cut herself because if you look at the bottom right of the part of the manga where Sacha says that reapers has killed themseves, the nails are painted, and look manicured.

Sascha: (Sascha’s gender is unknown lol). Since them and Ludger were the first to mention that reapers commit suicide to become reapers, there is an unmistakable silhouette with her bang outline. The silhouette has a noose around it’s neck. Which leads me to believe, they classically hung themselves. As for her motives, I have two theories. The first one, being that they refer to themselves being a reaper as their calling or her “vocation”.

Meaning, that they were meant to do it, as fate. So, perhaps, they were a human who found out the secrets of the reapers, and then they decided to kill herself because it was appealing and fascinating, to watch the souls of the deceased for a living. That also makes me theorize that they have a secret sadistic side that we have not seen yet, almost like a sociopath.

My second theory as to why they killed themselves, the more plausible theory, is that she had always been a nerd, into science and math, which, especially in 1800’s England/Germany, was unusual for a woman (I think they are female but other people think they are male, and for this theory, I’m just going to refer to her as a female). Now, as a reaper, she was more appreciated as a bright woman, which is why she called it her “vocation”. Woman aren’t common in the reaper dispatch from what we have seen. So, she is no-longer being bullied for being a smart woman, she is being treated as an equal, which is something she has never had before!

Ronald Knox: He, is interesting, as I couldn’t really find any *evidence* as to how/why he killed himself. So, I have concluded that he most likely either drank until he died or he hung himself. I say that he drank until he died, because I believe that he didn’t have a father and that his mother was abusive, so he never knew how to treat women. Thus, he ended up growing up trying to seduce and buy women drinks. Obviously, this life style of never truly being loved drove him over the top, and one day, he couldn’t stop drinking. He was conscious, and he KNEW, that if he didn’t stop, he would die, which makes it a suicide. Also, he could have combined other drugs with his alcohol, like anti-depressants and anxiety medications to give a deeper and faster effect. He was quite possibility an alcoholic before he died.

However, with Ronald Knox, I am torn between him jumping off of the roof and him popping pills. For, the box in the top middle resemble’s Ronald’s shoes. It’s either Grell’s or Ronald’s since with both characters, we send to see their shoes, or below their waist, before we see their faces in scenes (this is more commonly seen with Grell).

William T. Spears: Will is a very difficult character to read, he is very strict and rarely shows his emotions. This leads me to believe that he grew up in a household where emotions were not allowed, he may have been emotionally abused and manipulated by his mother and/or father. Due to his lack of being able to release his emotions, the lament built up in his inner core, and he finally decided to kill himself. Now, this begs the question, how did he kill himself? We don’t have much information on Will and his life, like Ronald Knox. So, I have to do some thinking. For starters, Will does not have an “bad” habbits, like drinking. However, it appears that he could have shot himself. One of William’s key character traits is that he dislikes when things take up time, so his suicide was most likely quick, which eliminates hanging, over-dose and burning to death. The quickest method of suicide is jumping in front of a moving vehicle or shooting oneself. I, for one, believe that William may have indeed put the barrel of a gun in his mouth, and pulled the trigger. If you revert back to the panel that I have been referencing, you can see a silhouette with the gun in (his) mouth. This method is quick, though messy, and he probably knew that at the time.

I, also, think it is plausible that he jumped off of a high place. Since he is usually shown on buildings, and generally higher places. He is rarely seen on the ground for long. Usually, he does his watching/staring on a building close to the edge, abnormally close to the edge. I can’t take credit for noticing this, I read other theories for why he killed himself, and other people noticed this. Not me.

Undertaker: Oh Lordy lord! I have no clue where to start with him. However, I believe that the imagine of him killing him self is covered by a voice bubble. If you look at the top right, left of the building and right of the fire, there is an imagine in the background which appears to be air bubbles. Perhaps, Undertaker drowned himself. I say this because, to me, there appears to be black, shiny nails. Who else has black nails (besides Sebas-chan)? Undertaker. Purghaps, he had black nails while he was alive and decided to keep it when he became a reaper. Also, this would explain why he chose to do his bizarre doll beta experiment on a ship. The other theories I read on this believe that he was scared when the water started flooding the Campania because of the way he died, wel, I disagree. The reason he freaked out was because he lost the locket with Claudia Phantomhives hair. The reason he chose a ship to do his expirment was because he is (headcannon) a hopeless romantic, and drowning, whether it be suicide or on a ship, are tragic and honorable ways to die. Undertaker doesn’t seem to be a man of honor at first, but the more his character gets developed in chapters 140 - 150, it is seen that he is a man who will protect his name and the Phantomhive name (for unknown reasons).

Now, I know that this is disappointing, but I gueninuly have no idea on how Ludger, Eric or Allen died. Eric’s was probably something violent. While Ludgar has a neutral death on the violent scale. Allen probably had a softer death, like jumping off something high or shooting himself. Since we have no manga/anime to back this up or to give evidence, and only the play, I cannot say for sure how I believe that they died. If you have evidence that shows how any one of these three committed suicide, message/send an ask request in.

[must-be-brooklyn]

1, 8, 9 for Javid?

Idk if you wanted this to be angsty?! Bc, that’s a pretty angsty set you put together!! But, it’s got a fluffy ending anyway bc I can’t commit to pure angst ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

1. “Do you want me to leave?”; 8. “Were you ever going to tell me?”; 9. “Don’t ask me that.”

Ship: Javid

Words: 1.3k

Era: Modern au

Warnings: Some language, pretty bad parental relationships implied, and an anxiety-driven down period. Message me if you want more information xx

David curled his legs tightly to his chest and sighed deeply, resting his chin on his knees. His stomach was flipping inside out and back again making him feel like the only thing stopping him from vomiting was that he had eaten nothing in the past day. He could not find an appetite, though. Mind fixed on a million things, he had no room in his head for his basic, human needs.

The door opened and David’s eyes flicked toward it before returning to a corner of the room. He barely noticed as Jack sat down on the end of his bed, crossing his legs in front of himself and leaning in David’s direction.

“What’s up, Davey?” Jack asked. His voice was gentle, unusually so, and when David looked at him, he could see the concern written in his eyes.

David swallowed and struggled to pull together the words he wanted. It was an insurmountable task that he could not manage. Shaking his head, frantic at first and then wasting away into listlessness, he dropped his forehead to his knees and stared at his own lap.

Sometimes, days like this happened and there was nothing David could do about them. Meds were an absolute Godsend, they were what stopped every day from being a bad day, but they could not fix everything. No dosage of anxiety tablets would be strong enough to shut out every nightmare.

Jack shuffled a little further up the bed and put a gentle hand on David’s lower leg. It had been years since he and Jack had first met; he was one of the few people outside of his family who really knew how to deal with him when everything became too much.

Tapping his leg with a finger, Jack spoke again with a voice even softer than before. “C’mon, Davey, can you tell me?”

Perhaps if it had been an actual panic attack then Jack would not have asked questions. This was different, though; one of those times when David was simply overwhelmed with thoughts and feelings and things and just needed to shut it all out for a bit.

Somewhere within himself, David tried to motivate himself to answer the question. He was perfectly able to, just unwilling and tired and unbothered by the prospect of wallowing in his own misery for a bit longer.

Jack’s drumming stopped and he moved one of his hands to rest on David’s knee. “What’s going on in your head?” He paused for a moment and waited for a reply. “You know I’m here for you, I’m gonna wait for you to tell me something, okay?”

Another few seconds passed before David croaked out an answer. “Please, don’t ask me that.” He sounded like he had been eating gravel and washed it down dust. It felt like it, too; his mouth was bone dry after almost a day of not saying or drinking anything. Wincing, he tried to swallow, but even his throat as if the moisture had been sucked from it.

Jack turned onto his hands and knees and crawled over to David. Sitting right next to David, he wrapped an arm his shoulders and pulled him in close. “Okay, sure, I won’t ask that. But, you have something you want to talk about?”

David did not respond for a moment as he moved, leaning his head into Jack’s neck and finding a comfortable position. “Can you just talk about your art for a bit?”

Jack did not need to be asked again as he launched into an explanation of his latest coursework piece.

It was an easy routine for distraction. David had asked Jack to do it enough times that he knew it worked well. Conversely, on the days that Jack collapsed in a heap, David had spent hours talking about the latest topic they had been discussing in the history lectures, or the book he was reading. David fell back into Jack’s voice like it was a lullaby and let his mind drift.

At some point, he needed to say it. That was an unquestionable truth. But, getting the words out was something that he had no actual want to say.  

He tumbled into the words face first, without knowing what he was saying. “Were you ever going to tell me?” David’s muscles tightened involuntarily as he waited for Jack’s answer and things whirled around his head at a million miles per minute as he fought to pull together a sentence that explained what was in his head.

“Tell you about what?” Jack said mildly. He sounded unconcerned, but there was a lingering hint of worry that he disguised well.

David did his best to shrug. “The, you know…” He tilted his head so he could look up at Jack. “It’s just, I heard about…” Trailing off again, he licked his parched lips and picked at the skin around his fingernails. “In the newspaper on Thursday?” With the words in the open, David rushed to fix them again. “Not that you had to tell me or anything, but I just say it, and I thought that… I thought that…” He lost his train of thought and settled back into silence.

Jack’s face darkened, and his posture went taught. “I don’t care about him.” Scowling, he pulled his arm away from David and crossed it over his chest. “My birthfather can rot in hell for all I care. Good riddance to him that he got caught in a drug ring and sent to gaol.”

David swallowed. “I didn’t mean… Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bought it up…” He shook his head and looked away from Jack, ashamed.

“No, shit, sorry,” Jack said, exhaling heavily as his anger melted away from him, “I’m not angry at you or anyone. I mean, maybe at him, but seriously, I wasn’t kidding when I said he could rot in hell. I’m just…” Sighing, he trailed off and a silence elapsed between them.

Jack broke the silence after a few, long seconds. “I just don’t like to talk about him, Davey.”

“No, I know, I’m sorry,” David said quickly. His words continued to speed up as he lapsed into messy thoughts and a need to apologise. “It was a really stupid thing to say. Not like I expected you to say anything, more like if you wanted to talk about it and I really messed that up and, shit, sorry.” He took a fast breath in and then slowly exhaled. He could feel his heart beating and threatening to shatter his ribcage. “I sounded like such an arse, I’m sorry.”

Giving him a weak smile, Jack shrugged. “You’re fine, I get it. But, nah, I don’t want to talk about him, at least not now.” He picked at the cuffs of his jeans and avoided eye contact with David. “But, uh, this is what you were thinking about up here?”

David shook his head. “No, family issues back home…” He paused, unwilling to elaborate. “It’s just I had a lot of time to think, you know. Saw in in the newspaper, couldn’t stop my brain. You know how it is…” He gestured at his head loosely and gave a final shrug. “I’m sorry, Jack…”

Jack’s body relaxed fully, but he did not put his arm back around David. “Don’t need to apologise, Davey, it’s fine. But, uh, do you want me to leave? Give you some time alone?”

“Not unless you need to leave,” David replied. His looked back up at Jack and gave him a withdrawn smile. “Kind of just want cuddles and for you to finish telling me about your painting of the exhibition.”

Jack’s face broke into a soft grin. “Yeah, I think that can be arranged.” He wrapped his arms around David again, enveloping him in a tight hug, and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Love you.”

David twisted his neck to kiss Jack in return. “Love you, too.”

[shidoukanae]

Ryoken Kogami/Revolver Character Analysis (Part 1)

Let me preface this by saying that, truly, I despise Ryoken’s character. I hold a variety of reasons why I hate him (and let’s just say that the fandom does not help) but for the sake of this analysis, I’m going to ignore my bias as much as I can. The fandom constantly pushes Ryoken as such a great and majestic character that I can’t help but think it must be true, if only to some degree. So, for the sake of sating my own curiosity, I’m going to go through literally every episode with Ryoken ever in order to try and piece together what makes him such a beloved and idolized character in this fandom.

This includes extensively and exhaustingly peeking through canon and critiquing what is said, and what is not said, what works, and what doesn’t about Ryoken’s character. In order to achieve this, I’m going to painstakingly write this analysis first as an episode by episode critique of Ryoken’s character (and its build-up) and then, afterwards, I’m going to piece together the pieces to summarize what is, objectively, the outcome of Ryoken’s character. My goal in this is not to appease any one side of the fandom (whether one loves Ryoken or hates him) but to sincerely discover what the VRAINS canon defines his character as and whether or not he’s as great as the fandom suggests he is.

So, that all said, let’s start with episode 1:

Episode 1 literally starts with Revolver’s (Ryoken’s, same diff) introduction. And, I must say, this introduction is done spectacularly. It’s a bit confusing the first time around, but it works. We see from the beginning what Revolver wants in life – the Cyberse and, therefore, the Ignises, gone from the world. Already, we start his character strong: he has a motive which he wants to fulfill and is working to succeed in his goals.

And, when Ai escapes, he continues to pursue those goals by persistently insisting on the destruction of the last Ignis. If Revolver lacked in determination, he wouldn’t have bothered to send his “army” off to kill the Ignis. Revolver shows no mercy to his opponents, and that is already highlighted here within the very first minutes of the show.

Now, moving on, the next scene that Ryoken shares some importance in is with Spectre a couple more minutes into the episode. There’s been a time skip, obviously, but, even so, Revolver’s mission hasn’t changed: he wants the Ignises. Why, for now, is unclear but that’s not the point of this scene. The point, rather, is to establish a variety of things:

For one, that Revolver has a relationship with a man (ok well boy) named “Spectre”. For another, Revolver is doggedly tracking down the Ignis and yet has failed for a time frame of 5 years. That’s a long time to have made not any progress in and it’s almost....unimpressive even. For Revolver, I mean. Because, after all, Revolver is leader of the Knights of Hanoi, an already-established terrifying hacker group. And, even then, it’s him (+ Spectre and the Hanoi Family and Kogami and the Knights of Hanoi) against one Ignis – how has Ai managed to survive one year much less five?

I know the Ignises are established in canon as a super advanced race of sentient beings but…even still…I feel like Ai having been able to avoid them this long is stupendously impressive, honestly.)

But, moving on from mid-writing tangents, there’s also a third part to this second scene: Revolver’s introduction to Playmaker. Granted, it’s not in person, but it’s still very much important. Revolver is made aware of the fact that Playmaker is interfering in his business and, while it’s a reasonable nuisance to him, Revolver waives it off because Playmaker’s name means so little to him at this point.

There’s also a fourth point too, but it’s very minor here. That point being that Revolver knows of SOL and seems to detest them for reasons that, again, are not made apparent quite yet in the show.

The next scene with Revolver isn’t very important. Revolver is watching over SOL’s actions as the security scan begins and then takes action to capture the Ignis (who he believes and accurately predicts will flee). Not much to note here other than the fact that Ryoken is prepared and ready at a moment’s notice to fulfill his ambitions.

Episode 2:

“We spent years getting rid of Cyberse users...but there’s still one left?”

Users is an interesting choice of word, considering that it’s the monsters that Ryoken’s talking about, not actual duelists who use Cyberse monsters, according to later episodes. Then again, this whole sentence is worded so weirdly I can’t make heads or tails of it considering what we know about how the Cyberses were created. Maybe this was an earlier idea that was scrapped? Or, perhaps, it’s just an awkwardly translated/phrased sentence considering what we know 40+ episodes later.

[Context here since this is relevant to a much later episode: The Ignises created the Cyberse monsters. It was never stated that these monsters were given to anyone else (nor explained how Playmaker himself got his cards). However, somehow both Takeru and Bowman have them. The latter likely does because of Hal and the stealing of the Ignises technology after the destruction of the Cyverse. The former you can say because he’s one of the Six Kids and it’s to be expected at this point, I guess. However, if the Lost Kids have Cyberse monsters and are therefore “users”...how is Takeru a Cyberse user if there’s only one left (aka Playmaker)? Did he somehow get under the radar this entire time? I have questions, show.]

Surprisingly, this is the only scene Revolver shows up in (unless I skipped something? I never once heard Revolver’s voice after this and I didn’t see him either so idk). It’s not much, but it does explain some things, however confusing this sentence is.

For one: Revolver does not want the Cyberse type to exist and apparently has eliminated any that do exist to the point that is surprised that there is “still one left”. Talk about going to the furthest extent to reach your goals, geez. If anything, this shows even more that Revolver is dogged about tracking down his prey, doing as much as possible to eliminate those who stand with the Ignises and in his way...

Episode 3:

There’s two parts to this episode involving Revolver, but the first one is obvious: Revolver sensing the Ignises presence from within the Link VRAINS world.

Now, I’ll admit, this scene is very well done and just…eerie. You have Yusaku and Shoichi freaking out as the world “glitches” and then Ryoken flies into view on his ace monster, red eventually painting the background as he looks menacingly into the camera.

I have many questions on how exactly Revolver knew that the Ignis was around that exact location. I don’t recall canon ever giving a proper explanation for this scene (except for “Link Sense” on Yusaku’s side and a lost “connection” on Ryoken’s side) but, given Revolver’s lack of a special sixth sense, I’m going to say that Ai’s malfunctioning led to some sort of signal flare that led Ryoken directly to the same area as Yusaku. How this works, I have no fucking clue. Perhaps Link VRAINS overlaps Den City somehow and, when these two things “merge”, a signal given off in the real world can be usurped and expressed in the digital world as well? I don’t know, and I doubt canon will ever explain, either.

Moving on, we’re introduced officially to Revolver as the Leader of the Knights of Hanoi. This does little except to confirm earlier suspicions that Revolver is, indeed, the commander of the Knights of Hanoi. Please, please, please keep this fact in mind because I know for a fact it’s going to be important later and impact so much of Revolver’s character.

Next scene with Revolver is more establishment. The connection to the Ignis is cut and, unable to find the thing he wants to destroy most. We see Revolver frustrated and…can I say, almost angry at himself for failing? It doesn’t come off that way directly, but that’s the general sense I’m getting from him.

Dr. Kogami is introduced next, though we know little about him at the moment. Revolver inquires to him about a “new project”, to which Dr. Kogami explains he needs more time. It can be speculated that this project is likely the Cage of Fire card seen later on in the show, though tbh the project really doesn’t feel much important here except as foreshadowing for later on.

“I don’t think they’re capable of analyzing the Ignis. But I don’t want to give them too much time.”

“I know. If you can draw out Playmaker, you’re certainly capable of defeating him.”

Then, there’s also an interesting back and forth between Revolver and Dr. Kogami. Revolver doesn’t want Playmaker to discover the Ignises’ secrets, so he wants to defeat Playmaker as soon as possible. In other words, Revolver wants to rush his way to the Ignis, seeing Playmaker as an obstacle he must defeat in order to reach his goal.

Cont. on from above:

[Alarm bell rings]

“I’ll leave now.” -Revolver

“Thank you.” -Kogami

[Transitions to Ryoken. Ryoken approaches his father and holds his hand]

“I promise to fulfill my father’s wishes.”

In hindsight, this is actually powerful. At the time, most of the fandom didn’t associate Dr. Kogami with the man in the bed. Now, however, there’s something almost bittersweet about this scene. Ryoken is showing his dedication to his father by attending to him in the real world, keeping him alive while promising to help aid his father’s wishes into fruition.

There’s also almost a kind of respect between the father and son with the first part of the exchange. Kogami depends on Revolver to keep his body alive and healthy, but he doesn’t at all force Revolver to attend to him. Instead, Revolver seems to take initiative, having an alarm system set in place that warns him of his father’s condition. And, when Revolver takes his leave, Kogami thanks him not as if it’s expected of Ryoken, but almost as if he felt Revolver was doing it of his own free will and that Kogami should show his thanks to Ryoken even despite the father-son boundary.

There’s nothing bad or abusive or inherently evil about Revolver’s and Kogami’s interactions. Instead, it seems like an odd and awkward balance. Dr. Kogami is Revolver’s father, a figure of power in Revolver’s, and yet we’re shown that he’s dependent on Revolver, needing him in the real world to keep his body and mind in-tact. On Revolver’s side, we see a wish to help his father, a desperate need to do his best to give his father piece of mind. They are also very much on the same page, referring to a “project” that Revolver is not kept away from and from which Dr. Kogami doesn’t try to hide from him.

I got the feeling that, in a way, both of Kogami and Revolver are on equal terms, both trying to reach the same goal but only in the ways that they themselves can do it in. Kogami is a mass of virtual bits and pieces so, naturally, he knows how to use Link VRAINS to his advantage as a hacker. Revolver is the leader of the Knights of Hanoi, a terrorist group so, naturally, he can use his numbers to help him find Playmaker and weed the man out. It’s a very interesting dynamic that I wish, in hindsight, was explored a little bit more because it certainly seems like this dynamic could have proved very interesting had we seen it more fleshed out.

[Ahhh, update on this. Apparently, it’s expected in Eastern culture for family members to take care of each other when they’re ailing. Therefore, it’s actually more believable for Kogami to expect Revolver to care of him. It doesn’t mean that Revolver isn’t still taking care of Kogami out of his own free will, but it’s definitely also a cultural aspect I was unaware of. Thanks to @haawkgirl for pointing this out to me!) 

Episode 1-3 conclusion:

Is it too late to say that I really like how the show reveals Ryoken within the first 3 set of episodes? I actually don’t despise him at all here and still can’t despise him here despite loathing his character. He’s set up really well as this mysterious yet sympathetic villain and it’s such a great depiction. I can see why people like him from these episodes alone and can agree with the sentiment that he’s a Very Intriguing character at this stage in time.

However, that said, episodes 1-3 are the only episodes that ever made a strong impact on me in terms of Revolver’s character. Moving on from these episodes, I can’t guarantee that I’ll think any highly of him from here on out. My goal is to remain unbiased as I continue this analysis, but that won’t stop me from pointing out flaws, virtues, and what could have, perhaps, been done better.

Next up: Episodes 6-8

[danfanciesphil]

How about they meet while teaching in the same school au? I know there are already ones like this but idk

i like this one. 

thank you, honey x

It had never been Dan’s first choice, career-wise. 

As a matter of fact, throughout his university years, he’d always looked upon his graduate friends with scorn if they’d gone into predictable, un-specialist jobs like marketing or real estate - things that have nothing to do with the degrees they spent three or four years obtaining. 

But then university had ended, and Dan had been thrown, quite unprepared, into the cutthroat world of job-seeking. 

He’d tried, of course, to find jobs in his field, but as it turns out, there aren’t many people in need of sociology majors nowadays. He’d flirted with the idea of doing a masters course, but that shit is expensive, and by the time he’d gotten around to considering applications, the deadline had already passed. 

So, he’s twenty-two, fresh out of Manchester University, all but still clutching his freshers-week wristband, with no prospects whatsoever, and a rapidly depleting bank account. With his rent deadline looming over closer, he decides to just suck it up and look on his university’s ‘graduate scheme’ page. 

Marketing is definitely out, as Dan can’t stand the way people in those jobs talk. The idea of driving the young, naiive hopefuls that he once was around to different shitty flats and house shares in a company Fiat, lying through his teeth to persuade them to part with their maintenance loans for a damp-riddled, cockroach-infested prison cell is also too much to bear. 

So, with reluctance, Dan starts looking through the adverts for the one job he thinks he can just about handle, and that might have a chance of taking him on:

Teaching Assistant. 

Low pay, early mornings, and screaming adolescents five days a week. The idea of it iss not appealing. 

Nevertheless, he diligently sends out his CV and some cover letters to local secondary schools, then quickly closes all tabs pertaining to it in order to watch some Stranger Things. 

The following morning, he wakes up to an email inviting him for an interview. 

*

Four months of training, a fuck ton of reading manuals, health and safety guides, curriculums and other such palava, Dan finds himself being led down an eerily empty school corridor towards his first actual class. 

Even the tapping of his shoes against the shiny linoleum floor of this place is beginning to bring back horrible high-school memories. He shudders, asking himself for the umpteenth time why the fuck he ever took this stupid job. 

Think of the money, he tells himself. 

“…so don’t expect the students to be too enthused.” Vice Principal Green finishes, briskly striding along just ahead of Dan. 

“I’m sorry?” Dan asks.

Vice Principal Green looks over his shoulder. “I was just saying that as it’s the first day back, the students will likely be a little more… sluggish than usual.”

“Oh.” 

“Don’t worry!” Vice Principal Green says brightly, his cheeks rosy as he gives Dan a broad smile. “I’m sure you and Mr Lester will get them back into their regular rhythms soon enough!” 

“Yeah,” Dan says, smiling back. He doesn’t add that the idea of motivating a shit-ton of sullen teenagers to do schoolwork after a month and a half of fucking around all summer is petrifying. “Mr Lester? Is that-”

“That’s who you’ll be assisting for your first lesson, yes.” VP Green says, coming to a halt outside a door marked ‘Classroom 9′. “He’s been a history professor here for two years now. You’re in luck, as he’s an excellent teacher, and particularly popular amongst the students. It’s always much harder for the TA’s if the teacher is incompetent or disliked.” 

“Oh…” Dan says, feeling his stomach quiver. “Well, that’s… good, I guess.” 

“Yes, there’s no better person to get your bearings with, I assure you.” 

Dan nods, eyeing the closed door in front of them with a modicum of fear. Behind it is a class of twenty-six Year Nine students, all of whom he is going to have to help this ‘Mr Lester’ to control. 

Dan’s never liked teenagers anyway. He didn’t even like being one. 

Why the hell did he take this job?

“Well then, unless you have any more questions, it’s almost nine o’clock.” VP Green says, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “Ready to be thrown to the lions?”

Dan laughs politely, but it comes out sounding nervous and weak. Embarrassingly, VP Green places a reassuring hand on Dan’s shoulder, smiling that broad smile again. 

“Brave face, Daniel!” VP Green says. “Or should I say, Mr Howell.” 

Dan swallows, hating the sound of that already. “Right.” 

Then, VP Green is removing his hand and opening the door in front of them. 

There’s a hum of chatter amongst the students as they converse excitedly about their summers, catching up with one another after the long break. They’re sat in pairs, two to a table, though they lean across chairs and kneel beside one another in order to be able to speak with their friends. 

Just as Dan remembers it, the faint scent of Lynx body spray and that suffocating girly equivalent hovers in the air. Apart from the fact that the girls in this class seem to have Cara Delevigne eyebrows painted onto their faces, and the boys are all sporting that haircut with the shaved sides and the quiff, Dan imagines he could be walking into his own class back in Reading.

War flashbacks attack him from all sides. 

“Ah, Mr Lester,” VP Green bellows, grinning widely. “Glad to see you’ve survived the long break!” 

Dan turns his head, watching VP Green stride from the door towards the front of the classroom, over towards a wooden desk in the corner, beside which stands a tall young man in a red and black checkered shirt. 

The young man grins back, placing the papers back down upon his desk as he shakes the outstretched hand extended towards him by the Vice Principal. 

“Hah, I thought about running off and never returning, but alas-” he places a dramatic hand over his heart, gazing out at the uninterested teenagers before him. “Their thirst for knowledge is a siren call.” 

VP Green laughs heartily, clapping him on the shoulder. 

Dan just blinks in astonishment at the display. This man surely cannot be the famed ‘Mr Lester’ that was described to him a few minutes ago. 

For a start, the guy looks to be about Dan’s age. Perhaps a little older, as it’s difficult to tell with young men in their twenties, but definitely not by much. Also, he’s… attractive. 

Never once in all of Dan’s years of education has he ever felt anything more than a mild appreciation for his teachers or professors. Most of the time, he actually loathes them. 

To find one of the various downtrodden, weary, moody people Dan has had teaching him over the years attractive is something so alien to him that he can barely begin to comprehend it. 

But here is Mr Lester, looking like a damn snack in his short sleeved plaid, his thick-rimmed, scene-y glasses, and his actual goddamn skinny jeans. Dan has no idea how to respond. 

“Who’s the lanky nonce gawping at Mr Lester, sir?” A boy at the back of the class shouts, hauling Dan out of his inappropriate thoughts at once. 

Both VP Green and Mr Lester turn to the door, still smiling. 

“Ah, yes.” VP Green says, remembering Dan at last. “Everyone, take your seats now, that’s it. I’m going to introduce to you our newest Teaching Assistant, Mister Howell.” 

Dan gives the class an awkward wave. “Hi.” 

“Good morning, Mister Howell.” The class sings in one, unified, monotone.

It’s unexpected, and Dan stands like a lemon for a moment, dumbed by the strange, cult-like chant. 

“Um, g-good morning.” 

“Hey, knock it off you lot.” Mr Lester says around a wry smile. “He knows this isn’t Primary School. No more teasing the new TA on his first day, alright?” 

The class chuckles, and Phil grins at them all, shaking his head in mock-disapproval. His tongue peeks through the thin gap between his two rows of teeth as he smiles; Dan instantly melts at the sight of this. 

“Right, well I’ll be leaving you in Mr Lester’s capable hands,” VP Green says to Dan, clapping him once on the shoulder. He glances at Mr Lester apologetically. “Sorry, but I must run - first day back and everything. A thousand things to do. Are you alright to introduce yourselves?” 

“No problem,” Mr Lester says brightly. He places his hand on Dan’s upper back. “I’ll take care of him.” 

VP Green nods, smiling at them both before walking to the door. He waves to the class, none of whom seem to notice, and then disappears into the hall, closing the door behind him. 

Dan swallows, realising that now he is truly on his own. Well, apart from Mr Lester, that is. 

Gathering himself, Dan turns to shake Mr Lester’s hand. He has warm, large hands, which are surprisingly soft to the touch. He draws his own hand away quickly, cheeks warming as he realises what a weirdo he’s being for even noticing something like that. 

“Hey,” Mr Lester says, quieter now, so the kids won’t hear. “I’m Phil. Welcome to the Algerian War.” 

“Cool, I’m Dan- wait, what?” 

Phil just grins enigmatically, then spins on his heel to face the front of the class. 

“Right gang! We’ve got an hour.” Phil says, clapping his hands together. “You know the drill, get the tables out of the way, c’mon.” 

“Um…” Dan stutters. “Sorry, what is happening right now?” 

Phil laughs at Dan’s bewildered expression as the students hop animatedly out of their seats. Scraping sounds fill the air as they push their tables and chairs to the edges of the room, leaving a huge space in the centre.

“You’ll see,” Phil says, whispering it into Dan’s ear. 

Not realising Phil had gotten that close, Dan shudders, somewhat embarrassingly. He can smell the toothpaste Phil must have brushed his teeth with this morning on his breath. 

Oblivious to Dan’s reaction - thank God - Phil turns his attention back to the class. “Okay, yeah, but let’s use the tables to make two sets of barricades- yep one on either side of the room. That’s it, Jonah! Yeah, stack ‘em up Katie! Why not?“

“I’m not sure they covered this in training…” Dan says as Phil walks boldly into the space created in the centre, surveying the work of the students. 

“Looks good guys!” Phil says, ignoring Dan entirely now. “Let’s get these barricades up quickly. Do you hear the people sing…?”

The students groan at the sound of Phil’s off-key singing, and Dan barks a laugh, unable to believe that Mr Lester, supposed genius history teacher, just launched into the chorus of a Les Misérables song in the middle of class. 

Phil turns to face him then, grinning happily. “Get involved, Mr Howell!” He urges, walking over to grab Dan by the arm. “Are you my TA or not?”

“Well, yeah but… what do you want me to do?” 

“Are you deaf? We’re making our barricades!” 

So, not knowing how else to proceed, Dan obediently begins helping a nearby bunch of thirteen to fourteen year olds stack the tables and chairs until they have made a pretty impressive (and moderately safe) barricade. 

“Okay!” Phil cries in a surprisingly loud, deep voice. “Right, if you’re born in the months of July to December, get on the right side of the room. If you’re born from January to June, left side.” 

Dan stays on the left as instructed, listening in wonder to whatever this peculiar, charismatic man is about to say. 

“So, the Algerian war.” Phil says, hands on his hips. “Who knows what it was about?” 

A hush falls over the classroom. Dan has to admit, even he has no clue on this one. 

“Who knows when it was?” Phil asks.

Again, he is met with silence.

“Where it was fought?” 

Phil waits, sweeping his laser-blue eyes over the blank faces. He lands on Dan, smirking. “Mr Howell? Any ideas on this one?” 

Absurdly, Dan blushes, feeling as though he’s just been singled out by one of his own teachers. He reminds himself that this is merely a replica of a traumatic time, and that he is actually in charge here, with Phil. He and Phil are - supposedly - on the same team. 

Nevertheless, he doesn’t know the answer. 

For some reason though, he decides to give it a shot. “Uh, Algeria?”

The class titters, and Phil smiles. “Good work, Mr Howell. Gold star.”

Just before Phil turns away, Dan swears he sees him wink. 

“See?” Phil asks the others. “Not all my questions are designed to trick you.” 

Over the next few minutes, Phil uses a variety of bizarre techniques to supply the class with the answers to the questions he just posed - including a game of charades, a session of mime, an actual interpretive dance, and signing. 

He is theatrical in his movements, and seems to be well aware that the class is laughing at him as he clumsily acts out the French revolution of May 1968, using every mildly offensive French stereotype in the book in order to do it. 

He laughs along with the rest of them, apparently more than happy to be the butt of their teenage jokes as long as the answer comes out eventually. Dan watches his unusual technique in amazement, finding that even he is learning, without really meaning to, as well as laughing along, enjoying himself with the others. 

Eventually, Phil moves to the front of the class, standing on his desk. He throws his arms wide, letting the groans and ‘sir, what’re you doin’ mate’ comments bounce off his chest. 

“Right!” Phil announces. “The year is 1954! It is time for the war to commence!” 

Dan raises an eyebrow, smirking at the display. 

“Those of you on the left are the Algerian natives fighting for independence from the French colony!” Phil declares, gesturing at Dan and his troop of thirteen year olds. He catches Dan’s eye, smiling mischievously. “And those of you on the right are the French military, determined to stop this uprising before it becomes outright anarchy!” 

“Wait,” Dan says, “we’re not actually gonna-”

“Trois, deux, un… fight!” Phil cries, jumping down from his desk as an unholy roar erupts throughout the class. 

To Dan’s utter horror, the students run at each other from opposing sides, their fingers becoming guns, their rulers and pencils transforming into knives and swords. 

Phil sidles over to him, nudging him in the side. “Why are you waiting on the sidelines, Dan? You’re letting the Algerians down!” 

Dan cannot speak. He watches as the students wrestle each other to the ground, fake-throttling one another, pretending to stab and wound and maim. 

Every single one of them is immersed in the imaginary bloodshed, their school-kid personalities gone for the time being. For now, Dan realises, each of these children is a soldier in the Algerian war. 

“This is amazing.” Dan can’t help saying. 

He shakes his head, marvelling as he watches a ‘French militant’ straddle a wounded ‘Algerian’, pinning her to the floor. She struggles against her oppressor’s grip in vain. 

“How dare you steal our land and our produce!” The ‘Algerian’ girl cries bitterly. “The Islamic people of Algeria were peaceful until you came and colonised us you fucking French frogs!” 

“Silence, citizen!” The ‘French militant’ snarls. “We dragged your sorry excuse for a country out of the depths of poverty! What use will this insubordination bring you? Do you know how many would die to be French?” 

The ‘Algerian’ girl spits at him. “Good for them! Because I’d rather die than become French!” 

“Then die you shall!” 

He mimes stabbing the ‘Algerian’ girl through the heart. She chokes, then falls silent, her head lolling to the side. Dan wants to give the two of them a round of applause. 

“They get really into it.” Phil muses happily, still beside Dan. “History is so much more exciting when you can really put yourself in the shoes of the people involved. That’s what I find, anyway.” 

Dan turns to Phil, feeling pretty dazed by him at this point. The azure blue of his eyes locks onto Dan’s, drowning him in skies and oceans and bubblegum ice cream. 

“You’re not like any teacher I’ve ever met.” Dan says quietly, a little dizzy still. 

The shrieks and clatters of the warring teenagers still echoes around the room, creating a strange, lively atmosphere. 

“In a good way?” 

Dan considers this. If he’d had a history teacher as cool and exciting as Phil when he was in school, he almost definitely would have learned substantially more than he did. Either that, or he’d know a lot less, because there’s an equally good chance he’d spend every history lesson staring at, and fantasising about, his hot teacher.

“Definitely a good way.” Dan answers,

Phil smirks, and Dan almost collapses at the sight of it. “That’s good.” 

“Why is that good?” 

Phil chuckles lowly. He takes a step closer to Dan, making his lungs seize up. 

“Think I might get jealous if you had a different favourite teacher to work with.” 

Dan swallows, trying very, very hard to see this obvious flirtation as something entirely platonic. 

“Well… it’s only my first lesson on my first day.” Dan says, sounding bolder than he feels. “I’ve got classes with plenty of other teachers yet.”

Phil nods, running his gaze quickly up and down Dan’s body. “I see, so you’re not picking favourites just yet?”

Dan grins at him. “Not yet.”

“Hm,” Phil nods, turning away with a smirk. All of a sudden, the bell rings. “Alright everyone, cease fire! Time to head to your next classes. Let’s get these tables back in order before we leave, shall we?”

“Wait!” A long, dark haired girl interrupts, indignant. “Sir, who won the war? Don’t leave us hanging!” 

“Ah,” Phil grins. “An excellent question, the answer to which…” He pauses dramatically. “I will be saving for next class!” 

There’s an enormous, collective groan. Dan marvels at it, wondering if he’s ever groaned in frustration at a class being cut short before. 

The students chatter animatedly as they restore order to the classroom, and Dan helps them get everything back into place. At last, they’re all filing out of the door towards their next lessons, and Dan breathes a sigh of exhaustion.

He turns to Phil, feeling a little nervous at the prospect of being alone with him. 

“Okay, well it was good to meet you.” Dan says, suddenly a polite, nervous wreck. 

Phil laughs at him, but walks over and smiles, reaching out his hand. “You too, Dan.” They shake hands, but this time Dan doesn’t let go quite as fast. “Thank you for putting up with all the madness. You actually coped pretty well! I’m impressed. Most TA’s take a while to warm up to my… methods.” 

“I’m not most TA’s.” Dan says, meaning it as a joke. 

Phil regards him with a tilted head, still smiling. “No, I get the sense you’re not.” 

Dan coughs, reddening. “Well, I should get to my next class.”

“See you in 1962?” 

“Hah,” Dan responds, “yeah.”

He turns to leave, desperately floundering for some sort of witty, charming and flirtatious remark to leave Phil with.

“Oh, Dan?” Phil asks, and Dan whirls to face him, a little too eagerly perhaps. 

“Yep?” 

“Keep me updated on your list of favourite teachers, yeah?” 

Dan smiles, nodding. “Afraid you’ve got some competition in this school?”

“Mrs Laughton might be sixty-three and have a permanent scowl tattooed onto her face, but she’s got a certain… je ne sais quoi.” Phil says, leaning back onto his desk. He gives Dan a wink. “She could steal your top spot.” 

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Dan tells him honestly. Phil smiles broadly, a glimmer of something caught in the crystal blue of his eye.

Then, because he’s embarrassed, Dan ducks out of the room. 

Needless to say, every single one of his other classes that day seems spectacularly dull. He finds himself thinking about Phil throughout most of them anyway, barely able to focus on what the teachers are saying. 

The bell rings for lunch, at last, and Dan breathes a sigh of relief, heading down to the staffroom. He’s boiling the kettle for a much needed cup of coffee when he feels a presence beside him. Startled, he looks up, straight into the blue eyes of Phil Lester. 

“So?” Phil asks, smiling cheekily. “Any new contenders for Dan’s favourite teacher?”

Dan smiles, feeling his cheeks glow with warmth. He shrugs, attempting to be enigmatic as he pours the boiling water into his mug. 

“Maybe.” 

“Ooh, mysterious.” Phil says, catching on. “Keep me guessing. I like it.”

Dan coughs, his blush deepening. “It takes a lot to impress me, I’ll have you know.” 

“Hmm, interesting.” Phil says, watching Dan pour the milk into his mug. “Maybe I’ll have to introduce a new topic next week. Something more stimulating than the Algerian war.”

Dan raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Just for me?”

“I think you underestimate my commitment to being top of your favourite teacher list.” 

“So what topic could you introduce to peak my interest?” Dan asks, smirking. 

Without a word, Phil plucks the coffee mug from Dan’s hand and takes a sip, never breaking eye contact. “Well, around the time of the Algerian war, France was going through a kind of …decadent phase, liberally speaking.”

“Decadent?” Dan echoes, preoccupied with watching how Phil’s lips curl around the rim of the mug. 

“The lefties were chagrinned about all the censorship laws and the capitalist infrastructure of the Fifth Republic, so they acted out.” Phil explains, handing Dan his coffee back. “They made saucy films, wrote erotic novels, cavorted with each other as much as possible.” 

“I’m not sure that’s classroom appropriate, Phil.” Dan laughs, feeling the butterflies begin to burst from their chrysalis’ in his belly. 

“Yeah, you’re prob’ly right.” Phil agrees, eyes dragging over Dan’s body again. 

Dan blushes, sipping his coffee and nodding. Phil stands up straight, as if he’s about to leave. Just before he does, he leans in close to Dan, their faces dangerously close. 

“Maybe we should save that lesson for after class.” 

Before Dan can respond, Phil has drifted away, already immersed in conversation with Mrs Laughton, a geography teacher. 

For fuck’s sake, Dan thinks, trying to will his brain to calm down after that unexpected comment, he absolutely cannot let himself get involved with a teacher. 

No matter how intimidatingly hot and amazing he is. 

Dan watches Phil talk animatedly at the sour-faced Mrs Laughton, and realises belatedly that he’s actually biting his lip. Fuck. This is going to be one frustrating year. 

(Part Two!)

[dxrkblaze]

all my… words?

idk why I did this?? but consider this the first chap of all my colors, just from blaze’s perspective I guess.

Hello reader,

My name is Blaze. Blaze the Cat. I live in a small one-bedroom apartment in New York City, about a ten-minute walk away from Manhattan. I cannot tell you why I’m chronicling my story; hopefully, you will find use in what I have to say, or learn from my mistakes. The world is a scary place these days; perhaps I can be a voice of comfort for you. That is my passion - to impact the lives of others through my writing.

Writing is something that I never believed I would enjoy. In fact, I hated it for a long time, especially when it was required for school. For the longest time, actually, my mother had to force me to write essays. She would sit down with me, make me outline what I wanted to say in my paper, and check every little detail to make sure my writing made sense. That would go on for hours. She errs on the side of directness in her writing, so that is where my roots lie. My mother often speaks of her childhood dream to write a novel, and I wish she would. I owe much of my writing ability to her. I owe almost every good aspect of my life to her, actually.

I didn’t start writing for leisure until I was fourteen, just as a coping mechanism. I won’t throw all my baggage at your feet, reader, but I have been through several horrid bouts of depression in my life. Writing allowed me to translate all my thoughts into words, and all my words helped me identify my thoughts. Because of that, I still believe writing to be the purest mutualistic relationship between oneself and one’s mind.

As time went on, I became more creative. Instead of just listing all the words associated with my thoughts, I began integrating them into stories. At first, these stories were cute tales of romance. That was what I thought I longed for so desperately back then. I never finished any of those stories - I always shifted attention to another before finishing one - but that is where my passion for writing grew. All the voices in my head became characters, my life became a plot that I could control, and I became a new person. My eyes were opened to new books, and I read constantly, taking mental notes here and there on how to improve my writing.

Improve I did, as I still do every day. Around a year later, I began posting my stories online for others to read. I was given much encouragement, more than I could have ever imagined. That was one of the few times in my childhood that I can remember being genuinely happy. Perhaps I am hoping that, in writing and sharing this, I can relive some of those memories.

The decision to share my stories has been the defining moment of my life so far. From there, I began considering a career in writing, and that is where I find myself now. I attended a writing school in New York City on scholarship, graduated, and now I work as a junior writer for the Times. Of course, my dream is to continue to write fiction, but for now I live paycheck-to-paycheck with little free time. Enough about me, though. This isn’t all about Blaze.

One of the most important things I’ve learned about writing - something that has taken me many, many years to learn - is that it doesn’t matter who reads your writing. It doesn’t matter how many people read your writing. Writing is an individual endeavor for individual people. It’s one-on-one. When someone out there is internalizing what you’ve written, even if it is just one person, you’ve done your job. When each description strikes a reader’s senses - when each word serves as a thin bristle on the grand paintbrush crafting your masterpiece - you’ve done your job well. The only one who can determine the value of a story is its author. It doesn’t matter how many people experience your writing, be it twenty or twenty thousand, because they all experience it differently. Each interpretation is special, even if there is only one. Again, it took me many years to realize it, but that is the beauty of writing.

In that way, writing is unlike a painting. In any given story, readers see different backdrops, different characters, different shades of different colors, different motives; they see themselves. The most important part, however, is that readers don’t see the world around them. Allow me to help you escape your troubles, reader. After all, I write to escape my own.

Just after that thought crosses my mind, the bright, bouncing ring of my phone alarm sounds. I am already dressed, though. I haven’t been able to sleep much lately. I turn my phone over, silence it, and grab my bag for work. Perhaps some breakfast is in order first, though.

As I creep into the living room, I find an albino hedgehog asleep on the couch. This is my roommate, Silver. He is a freelance artist, an interesting personality, and my best friend since childhood. I won’t go into the details of our relationship at the moment - just know it is very hard to share a small space. He has boiled my blood a few times lately.

I quickly scramble some eggs over the stove, and place some bread in the toaster. Don’t let this fool you; I can only make eggs. It seems with any other dish I try to make, I set the fire alarm off. After the eggs are done, I scrape most of them onto a plate for Silver, and scarf down the rest. I’ll leave the pan for Silver to clean up - he could actually be of use for once. Forgive me; I shouldn’t say those things, but he is quite sporadic about cleaning.

In fact, I see a few articles of Silver’s clothing strewn across the living room. A few socks, boxers, paint-stained jeans, his t-shirt in the floor - who does this? See, reader, you must be patient with me. I am in no mood for this.

“Hey, wake up Picasso,” I growl as I toss some of the loose clothes at his face. This is the first time I’ve spoken to Silver all week. “Would you please stop leaving your clothes everywhere? I’m getting tired of cleaning up after you.”

That came out a tad colder than I had expected. It is true, though; he has to start keeping his space clean. I don’t know if another woman in the world could live with him. He stays cooped up in the side-room all day working on art, and he still manages to get the living room dirty. I would be scared to know just how much trash is on the floor in that art room.

Suddenly, Silver yawns and rubs his eyes. I feel a current of guilt run through my chest, and before he can fully wake up, I dart out of the door with my bag. Oh, how I wish things could be different between us.

[rainyjackalope]

Tagged by @octozoid :D

I haven’t done one of these in so long omg but here we gooo

1. Nickname: Rainy! Please call me Rainy it makes me so happy?? I might...also not be opposed to Jackie if you want (you know...for Jackalope?) But idk bc I haven’t really been called that..but it’s cute!

2. Gender: If I have to say I’d go with girl I spose, but I’m pretty meh about it. I can take it or leave it. She/her pronouns tho.

3. Star sign: Scorpio, bc I’m the edgiest of bunnies.

4. Height: 5′3″

5. Time: It’s...3:13 am wow. Where’d my life go

6. Birthday: SOON

7. Fave Bands: Uhhhhh. Like....the only one I listen to fairly consistently is Panic! At the Disco because....damn they’re good. But otherwise it’s all kind of spread out between individual songs atm >>;

8. Fave Solo Artists: UHHHHHHHHHH I don’t know tbh ;; I know I have some but my mind ejected them immediately.

9. Song Stuck in my Head: ...lately? Nothing really, I’ve been listening to MBMBAM more than music these days.

10. Last Movie I Saw: In theater or in general? If in theater, It. If not, 1922.

11. Last Show I Saw: My mom’s been watchin old game shows lately, so whatever the one she watches is.

12. Favorite Actors: Michael Caine is a good boi. He’s also in like every Nolan movie which is probably why I like him

13. What do I post: Drawings of like...OC’s, fanart, etc.

14. Last thing i googled: I believe it was ‘writing prompts’ to give me something to write about, but I hated all the prompts so much I made up my own anyway /:

15. Any other blogs: Ye! I’ve got a blog for reblogging the good ol memes and people’s cute art, as well as my Flight Rising art blog where I drown it in dragon content. I draw so much for it posting it here would just make this an FR blog oops

16. Do I get asks: Not really :’) But that’s alright, I rarely send any myself bc crippling social anxiety lol. I have gotten a few that were very sweet, and I always appreciate them~

17. Why did I pick my URL: Well, you see...I decided my mascot should be a jackalope because it’s basically a bunnydeer. And...I love rain very much. And I named my bunnydeer mascot Rainy so :’’’’’’’’’’)

18. Following: 55 19. Followers: On this blog it says 53, but that’s actually inaccurate, it’s a lot less but somehow blocking spambots and inactive blogs screwed up the count at some point and staff won’t fix it for me even when I submitted a ticket >>

20. Fave color: Blue!!!! And purples~ And...stormy hues. You can tell by looking at my art probably..

21. Fave place on earth: This gonna be real cheesy but anywhere with my bf. Just wherever that is. It could be stuck by a pit of lava and it’d still be great. Perhaps not the most desirable circumstance but hey.

22. Lucky number: 15, and by that I mean I like that number :P

23. Instruments: Used to play clarinet some, was never great at it. I own a lil ocarina I need to practice more, and I have a keyboard, but I never learned that very well...someday tho. Violins interest me but I’m no good at sticking with hobbies outside of art.

24. Fave hobby: ^Art for sure and forever. No matter how frustrated I feel and how much it beats the motivation outta me I always come crawling right back for more sooner or later.

25. Crushes: My bf is the only crush ever forever B(

26. Dream Career: Someone handing me money to draw my fursonas. Though, since that’s unlikely, I intend to open money opportunities for me to draw your fursonas B) (Likely won’t ever be...a career but! Even as a side thing it’d be very cool!)

27. Dream Trip: Hmm hmm, honestly, like..somewhere temperate that’s really really far away from light pollution to a point where all the stars in the visible universe paint themselves on the sky at night, and me n my bestie can admire them and I’ll yell about space a lot and just be really happy? I don’t care where it is, I just really want to see the sky without all the brightness fogging it over, and get to enjoy it with someone :’)

28. Fave anime: I don’t much like anime tbh, just not my thing really, but One Punch Man is so damn relatable and good. I used to be into original dbz but I kinda fell out of it, it got pretty fanservicey later and...the voice changes annoyed me.

29. Nationality:

30. Fave musical: Does Dr. Horrible count as a musical? Because that.

Tagging: @pawnthedeer if you want to do this? Sorry if tagging you is weird, I couldn’t think of anyone else that might wanna ^^’ Feel free to ignore the ping if you don’t!