#so multiple fairly “popular” ones got left out

[icouldntfinditsoiwroteit]

Saja boys angst headcanons part 1

The Saja boys minus Jinu being the boy band we see in the photo of the doctor's office

They tried everything to have a break in into the industry, but they barely managed to scrap a few thousand fans combined

No agency wanted them, none willing to take a chance with their upcoming group

They were all good friends but tensions rose with the stress of their band getting rejected time and time again

Fights would break out more than not in their small apartment

All of them had side jobs but even in those they had little success

Romance was a model, although not successful in any manner, mostly modeling for some commercial clothe brands with other groups of models, easily forgettable

Abby had a similar luck in the modeling industry, he tried to go into fit modeling as he worked in a gym, but he wasn't enough for the cut, always called lanky and so on

Baby never managed to hold any modeling job despite his fairly good looking face due to his bad temper and poor background, if he wasn't overlooked in castings he would get fired after some outburst

Mystery was the only one who had an easier time, thanks to his beauty and well mannered self he always got casted, although mostly in minor roles, but still compared to the others he was doing much better

Envy was unavoidable when he began getting better and better roles

The breaking point came when he got a lead role in an upcoming top tier kdrama

Mistery had been happy, feeling this could be his breakthrough, the pay was good, so he could help more with the financial burdens so the others could relax

If he got really popular he'd be able to bring the spotlights to his friends

He had been so excited to tell them the good news during dinner, but instead of the relief and happiness he had hoped for all he got was cold silence

The boys continued eating and chatting as if they hadn't heard Mystery, as if he wasn't there

The coming days things only grew worse, Mystery tried to talk to them separately multiple times but only received dismissive words and halfhearted encouragements

Baby would snap at any little thing he did

Abby began avoiding him like the plague

But Romance took it even further, making snide remarks any time Mistery tried to talk about his time on set, constantly putting his accomplishments down

It escalated until Romance would scoff any time Mystery tried to chat with them like normal

Mystery tried to endure it, he knew his friends weren't having an easy time, maybe if he worked harder and brought more money it could help, so he buried himself in even more work, taking side jobs to try and bring more money

Which only made him more popular, making his friends resent him even more

Everything came to a breaking point one morning, Mystery had woken early to make breakfast, the rest began waking up as he finished and had already plated the table, only for him to be left alone at the table

Abby said some weak excuse before leaving to get ready for work, Romance said something about not wanting to bother the little rising star and went to sit on the couch, Baby took one bite and spat the food, saying something about it being bland

But this time instead of silence like always Mystery snapped

He slammed his fists on the table, shocking them all as he finally let out his own frustration

He yelled in a way none of them thought possible, calling out how shitty they had been to him lately, trying to understand what he had done wrong

Romance answered in a same manner, with more yells, saying how he bragged all the time about his new lead job

Baby never one to be able to mediate joined in on the screaming match, about how Mistery clearly thought he was some bigshot just because he got lucky and someone took pitty in him

The yelling brought Abby back to the living room, he tried to mediate, and failed miserably due to his own simmering envy due to his insecurities

It all ended when Mistery called them jealous leeches and stormed out of the small apartment

None went after him

Their biggest regret in life and death

[maeism]

⤿ KENMA KOZUME ౨ glhf<3 ৎ

synopsis : kenma doesn’t believe in attachments, but maybe he’s been playing this one all wrong. after all, in a game where the rules keep changing, it’s hard to tell if he’s winning or just getting left behind.

cw : k.kenma x f!reader, inspired by "glhf<3" by MICO, very bad try at "gamer talk," angst(?).

word count : 1.01k

" oh, my god thought it was love // but then you broke my fall // fought for forever, got a couple months // want someone better? // baby, good luck, have fun "

kenma kozume has always been antisocial. he was always on his phone or using his nintendo. never seen hanging out with anyone other than kuroo. 

the boy spoke a few words and only did it when it was truly necessary. his gaze was always down. his eyes were tired and droopy. but that didn't stop him from being somewhat popular. the bleached haired boy was a starting setter on nekoma’s volleyball team, so his name was fairly known. 

at school he was a quiet, lonely boy. people tried to talk to him but his answers were always vague, empty, and not interested. so no one really knew him. 

the real him that was hidden behind the screen. 

late at night, the computer shined a bright light on kenma’s face in his dark room. as if it were a reflex, he opened riot games and launched valorant. his eyes traveled to his second monitor where discord was already opened. 

scanning through his friends list he saw the multiple notifications from people he did not want to reply to and the zoomed in, smiski profile picture of his favorite mutual. next to the unconventional icon was her name in white font, ‘y/n.’

kenma quickly clicked on the chat and typed out a message.

‘hop on valorant?’

no greeting, no small talk. he was always direct with his texts, especially those to her. he saw something in her, maybe it was the fact he had never met anyone as fun or that she was different from everyone else he had met before. but that's how it always was with her, simple.

except it wasn't, really. 

his eyes hovered over the message after sending it, the cursor blinking on the text bar as if awaiting for something more. something he would never actually type out. 

because there was something about her. something that gave him a slight impulse, a little rush in his dull life. maybe because she was fun without even trying, or how she did not force a conversation and try to fill in the silence with meaningless words like everyone else. or maybe, it's because she wasn't like the other girls he met online. no fake voices, no pretending to “need” him. she just was.

and he liked that. way more than he should.

“bloop.” the notification echoed through his headset. 

‘give me 5,’ she replied, quick and easy, just how he liked it.

slanting down on his chair, kenma’s mind went to her. the girl lived in hyogo, which was pretty far away, but he’s seen her face before, and follows her on instagram so he knows she's not a catfish. 

five minutes later, kenma was still staring mindlessly into his computer, lost in the thought of his online friend until the incoming call sound filled his ears. making him quickly answer it. 

“yo,” she said, casual like always, as if she hadn't just made him stare blankly at his screen for five whole minutes.

“hey,” he mumbled, inviting her to the party without missing a beat.

they queued up, the familiar click of the matchmaking sound filling the silence. it was comfortable. their kind of comfortable. 

the game loaded in. she picked a dualist. classic.

the whole match felt intense. she was doing reckless moves, some that always worked for her. kenma hung back, watching the kill feed light up with her name over and over. 

“you're playing like you've got something to prove,” he muttered, focusing on the game in front of him.

“i do,” she shot back, “proving i’m better than you.”

a smirk tugged on the corner of kenma’s mouth. he didn't say anything. just waited.

a round later, she died early, caught off guard in mid. kenma clutched the round, barely, his last shot shaky but landing anyways.

“lucky,” she said, voice dripping with mock disdain.

“skill issue,” he replied flatly, though he knew what she was capable of.

the next round, she carried again, top fragging like it was second nature.

“see? not luck,” she teased. “just talent.”

kenma’s lip twitched. he didn't let her win. he never had to. she was just that good. but sometimes, he wondered if he played worse on purpose. if only because her victory felt better than his own.

“yeah,” he let out a breathy reply while he bought his loadout for the next round. “guess i'm lucky to have you.”

it slipped out before he could stop it.

silence. just for a second. 

then she laughed. light, unbothered, easy.

“damn right you are.”

and kenma didn't reply. because if he did, he'd have to admit that wasn't exactly what he meant. 

they kept playing. rounds one after another, easy banter filling in the spaces between kills and callouts. it all just felt natural, like a habit. 

then, as the last round ended, a call sound went off from her end.

“oh,” she said, distracted. “i should go.”

kenma’s fingers went stiff on his keyboard. the room suddenly felt quieter, even though she hadn't left yet.

“already?” 

she hummed. “mhm. he's waiting for me.”

he.

kenma wasn't stupid. he knew what she felt. the way her voice was just a little softer. the way her focus had already drifted somewhere else.

he stared at her name in the game, wishing she wouldn't leave. 

“i'll catch you later though,” she added. “don't miss me too much.” and the discord ping echoed through his headphones. reminding him of her departure. 

kenma exhaled sharply through his nose. ‘don't miss me too much.’ there she was, teasing again. and somehow it helped the pit in his stomach. 

he went to the chat with her and typed out ‘glhf.’

a few seconds passed. maybe she wouldn't answer at all. maybe she already moved her whole focus towards that other guy. 

then, ‘thanks<3’

kenma blinked at the screen.

he dragged a hand down his face, exhaling into his palm. the little heart sat there, taunting him. a habit. a joke. a hook. 

he shut his computer quickly and leaned back on his chair, eyes closing. 

god, he hated this game.

[sevinagreatergood]

I want to talk about the comment whose name is too long. That motherfucker. Before anyone goes for my head. I said that Snape built the marauders fandom.

For context, it was a TikTok about 3 fandoms within the Harry Potter one. Which are:

- harry potter itself aka golden trio

- marauders era

- Slytherin boys

To which I posted a comment on the TikTok.

[@Harry Potter Fan:

HP is canon

Marauders is fanon but act like canon and are filled with snaters yet somehow they refuse to believe that Snape basically built that fandom

Slytherin gang is just pure thirst]

I'm not lying. I just know that. Then this person said:

[@ChuuyasSlvttyWaistfanclub 👁🚦:Snape built the fandom??? Do he didn't, the fandom was built off of wolfstar]

Since then I've gone into a deep research on fanfiction.net, ao3 and archive.org

Imagine my bitter surprise when I saw more wolfstar fanfics in the 2000's than snupin. So I did some deeper research into this. I spent about my whole morning on this. All I got were reddit bs from the marauders fandom taking a crap and whatnot. Believe me, I used Google. Couldn't find a thing.

So I turned to look at chatgpt. I now more about the history of websites than I intended. Many of the fanfictions date don't even check out. There is litterally a wolfstar fanfic on ao3 that was made in 1950, it also has jegulus and indian James (that was basically booming last year). Many fanfics there are also dated back to 2002 and 2001, meanwhile ao3 exists in 2008.

(also, no hate to the author's that mixed up the dates. Maybe they thought the date was meant as a setting in which time period their story plays at, I also saw one of 1984.)

So I found it unreliable to search based on fanfictions when authors could change the dates. Then I turned to livejournal as chatgpt offered. That is a hot mess. Maybe it's because I am new but I have no idea how that works. So I landed on 2 answers.

Answer 1: wolfstar and snupin equally gained the same popularity. So neither snupin nor wolfstar began first or built the fandom.

Answer 2: according to chatgpt. It was snupin that raged with it's popularity between 2003 and 207. The pictures posted below, explain it well. But in short. Snupin was popular on other platforms that many fans do NOT use anymore nowadays. After 2010, ships excluding Snape like jily and wolfstar then many many more took the wheel and veered that maraudersfandom into the hotpot we know as today. The fandom that excuses death eaters, but not Snape.

That was the cause of ao3 and Tumblr. I believe even the wolfstar fanfics of back then we're more likeable and nicer than the ones we have today where they yank out all character traits of the characters and call it a day.

I hope this helps. So you either settle with snupin or nothing, your choice really. 😂. So fuck that comment with a too long name. I choose snupin.

Also, believe me when I say, I truly did try to search for other methods. I spent my entire morning on getting to the bottom of this but there simply were no other leads left. So as a measure against AI favoritism. I will borrow another phone, of my sister who is not a maraudersfan at all, and my mom's phone who doesn't even know what a harry potter is. Then go to chat gpt, type in the same question and see those answers.

Now, as promised, I checked on multiple sources to not base it on preference. My sister isn't even into harry Potter a lot, but into lord of the rings. About 5 years ago she was into the fandom but by then chat gpt doesn't exist. Fairly obvious she has no clue what marauders even is. This is what her chat gpt says:

This is the link to what my mom her chat gpt says:

Pt 2:

Pt 3:

Survey:

[clumsiestgiantess]

Chapter 30 of the Other-world Universe; it’s been a while since I posted the last chapter, hmm? Time to introduce y’all to some new characters!

all chapters listed here

[What’s Left to Save]

All in all, my job on the field was worth every second of laborious work.  The other-worldians were more than happy with it, and when I created a barrier for their town, I made sure it expanded to fit the new clearing.  The more land that would remain out of the portal-worlders’ clutches the better.

Moving from town to town, my fame only grew.  Instead of cries of confusion or even terror, I was met with cheers of joy.  It was the first time I ever felt like I belonged in that world.

However, my popularity also made it harder and harder to slip away into the dark like both Erica and I desperately desired.  Every so often, we managed to find a nice place and a good break in the action, allowing us to enjoy a bit of alone time together — both to try out our ever-evolving positions in bed, but mostly just to catch a break and simply talk to eachother without anyone overhearing.

Over my time traveling, protecting city after city, less skirmishes between us and the portal-worldians occurred.  Ivan only got to use his weapon once when they tried ambushing us.

That day, portal-worlders attacked a town close to the one where we were staying — knowing we’d come running.  When we arrived, there weren’t even any scientists, just multiple sets of soldiers waiting there to take us down, but between Erica’s near impossible to defend attacks and my impenetrable defenses, the fight didn’t last long.  The only reason Ivan joined in at all was because he felt bad that he wasn’t doing anything to help.

He’d nearly been grabbed or crushed multiple times because he had to get fairly close to stab people and paralyze them.  However, no one saw him coming at his size.  It came in handy when he incapacitated the man giving the orders, but besides that, it simply wasn’t worth the risk.  That battle was the last time I’d seen the likes of them, anyway.

Despite the small victory, we still struggled against the portal-worlders.  For every place we prevented the cruel world from obtaining, the more avidly they went out and ransacked places I hadn’t reached.  Sometimes Erica, Ivan, and I would get a call to action from another town, only for it to be completely run down and emptied by the time we arrived.

The only thing ever left standing were those strange laser pointer machines.  I kept my distance from any destroyed place because there was a good chance that those machines signaled portals to open — like the one that had opened near the second town of my journey after I’d come in contact with the machine in the first.

Unfortunately, that meant I couldn’t get close enough to help any potential survivors still left in the wreckage.  As much as we all hated the idea of possibly leaving behind people we could’ve otherwise saved, it just wasn’t worth presenting the enemy with our exact location and fighting off whoever came out of a portal every single time we entered a destroyed town or city.  

As Ivan pointed out, they surely had enough men and weapons to subdue us if they really wanted to.  There were only three of us, and likely a whole army of them behind any given portal.  The portal-worlders were choosing to deal with us in small skirmishes.  He had several theories why, but whatever the reason, it was better to save what we could and not poke the unidentifiably-powerful bear — so to speak.

That certainly didn’t mean we weren’t willing to try and help those we did find, though.  

Erica, Ivan, and I were traveling between places when I tripped on something stuck halfway out of the ground.  Ivan had come close to falling out of my hand as I fell forwards, but I snatched him into a light fist at the last second.  Erica on the other hand, went tumbling headfirst off my shoulder.  She was perfectly fine thanks to her weapon and the abilities it gave her.  

Her impossible speed and reaction time let her use the hooks and tethers of her weapons to slow herself down before she hit the ground in a perfect landing.  Still, the sight of her plunging to the ground nearly gave me a heart attack.

I was kneeling beside her in an instant, trying to check both my passengers for injuries at the same time.  Erica was more than fine, but Ivan was left with some rapidly-growing bruises around his midsection after I’d grabbed him.  “Ivan, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you!”  He shook his head, patting my finger as I gently let him down.  

“I know; I would rather end up like this over tumbling to my death any day.  Speaking of which…” he glanced at Erica, who was fixing her hair after dusting herself off from the fall.  “How did you do that?”  “Because I’m awesome,” she replied with a wry smile, “But really it’s because I got the best weapon.”  

I sighed, "Since I'm already sitting down, did you two want to take a break for a bit, maybe stretch your legs?  Because I think I need to rest mine."  They both agreed; the miles and miles we sometimes had to travel wasn’t nearly as rough of a hike for me as it would be for them, but it was still a long walk nonetheless.

I hadn't realized it, but when they wandered off, Erica went to search for what I'd tripped over.  There was a quick moment of peace for me to ease my racing heart, until a shocked gasp startled it once again.  "Woah, what the..?!" Erica yelled, "Alexis, Ivan, come look at what I found!"

In only a few steps, I realized why she’d called us over.  A large metal cylinder stuck out of the ground, disguised by large branches that had been propped up nearby.  The top of the thing had a porthole-esqe opening at the end, with the rest of where it went buried beneath the earth.

"It looks like an underground shelter," Ivan remarked curiously, climbing up to the top by a ladder on the side.  He tried to open it, but the wheel on the hatch only turned a few inches — locked from inside.  Erica stepped up to the thing and knocked.  "Hello?  Is anyone in there?  We're not giants in case you were wondering!"  Ivan shot her a look and she put her hands up in a 'what did I do?' gesture.  "We just want to know if anyone's even in there," Ivan called, "You don't have to come out if you don't want to, but we have food and supplies if you need it."  

The infinite box of meals came in handy again while on the road — even more so with food being a scarcity of the apocalypse.  I hadn’t visited a single place that didn’t take up an offer for giant-sized necessities.

At the mention of supplies, the faint sounds of someone rummaging around came from the bunker.  Suddenly, the wheel at the top churned open with a metallic screech, and Ivan retreated away from the opening.  A man with a rifle appeared at the top.  He might've been quite an imposing figure at one point, but he was so thin from malnourishment that he looked more haunting than imposing.  His back was turned to me, and he seemed almost desperate to believe Ivan as he coaxed him to lower his weapon.  The man didn't even notice me sitting behind him until he was fully out of the bunker, standing with his rifle dragging on the ground.  He turned around and froze stiff.

I barely blinked and he was already throwing himself at the ladder on the side of the bunker, desperate to get back inside.  The others called for him to stop, but just as suddenly as he emerged, the man disappeared underground again.  

"Well now what?" Erica asked, "Do we just let him starve to death down there?"  "Of course not!" Ivan gasped.  "I doubt he'll be back out here anytime soon, though."  All of us tried asking him to come back out, but nothing worked.

After about a half-hour of trying, we might have given up if it hadn't been for a second person who appeared from the forest.  He was younger than the man we'd seen, and looked a lot like him, but only slightly less deathly thin.  In one swift movement, he brought out a loaded crossbow and aimed it at my face.  

“Woah, woah, you can't go around pointing that thing at people!" Erica shouted the same time Ivan said "Just put down your weapon, we can explain."  The younger man looked between the two of them confusedly before fixing his aim back on me. "Wh- What the hell is this?  Some kind of trick?  You and your.. captives.. better get off my land right now ‘fore you end up with a fuckin arrow in your eye!" he shouted.  There was a twang in his voice like no one else I’d met.  I sat back and slowly put my hands up defenselessly.  "I'm not here to hurt you, or trick you.  I just- We're here to offer you some help."  He glared at me disbelievingly.

"Hey, buddy," Erica yelled, "Don't you think she would've captured you already if she were with the giants?  She doesn't act like them, doesn't dress like them, hell, she's been traveling around saving towns, not destroying them.  Haven't you heard the radio broadcasts?"  He blinked dumbly, "There are.. radio broadcasts?"  

"I'm not with the people who have been taking everyone.  I'm working against them, helping to defend cities and towns from being attacked."  His crossbow lowered just slightly.  "So are you workin’ with the government?"  "No, it's kind of a.. standalone operation.  Just me and these two," I explained, gesturing to the others.

"I'm Alexis, these are my friends Erica and Ivan.  You are?"  The young man stared up at me a long time before answering.  "I'm Ash."  I offered him a small smile.  "Well, Ash, I can promise you none of us will hurt you.  I have this," I said, pulling out the food box, "that can give me whatever meal I ask for.  And a bunch of supplies from my world.  You could have some if you'd like."  Ash seemed hesitant, but after I brought out a few items from the food box, he couldn't help but wander over in awe.  Ivan stayed nearby to clarify a few things while Erica glanced back at the metal tube.

“My whole family's down there," Ash said after testing a bit of the food and water to see if it was actually real.  "Would you let them have this, too?"  "Of course!" I replied, my enthusiasm frightening him some.  "There's plenty of everything."

He climbed up to the bunker opening and knocked on the top.  "Dad?  Momma?  There are people out here with food and water and…" he glanced back at the small pile of things I'd pulled from my pocket, "and everything."  There was a moment of audible hesitation by the older man within the buried metal column.  "Asher.. there's a giant out there.  I've unlocked the door.  Get in.  Now.  ‘Fore they catch you."  His ragged voice echoed from within.

I was hurt by the man's worry, but I understood why he was so cautious.  My upset thoughts must've been visible in my expression, because Ash gave me a bit of a pitying look before opening the hatch, but he didn't get in.  

"If you won't come out, can I at least pass you some things from up here?  They have everything  we've been needin’ for the past few weeks."  Suddenly, a whole group of voices started speaking at once.  "H- How big is your family?" I asked, slightly startled.  Ash's father whisper-yelled for him not to say anything, but then the many voices sprung up and started arguing.

"There's six of us.. used to be seven," Ash answered tiredly, stepping down off the ladder.  "Me, my mom and dad, my younger sister, then the two youngest twins, my other sister and my brother who.. got taken."  "Wow," Erica said in an impressed tone, "How do you all fit in there?"  Ash chuckled and shrugged, "We make the best of it."  

Yells echoed from the bunker and a girl about eight or nine years old climbed out, racing away from the arm that reached out from its depths to keep her inside.  She laughed in delight of escape before stopping abruptly once she saw me.  I expected her to pale in fear, and the smile to vanish from her face, but a look of wonder overcame her instead, and she hesitantly stepped beside her brother.  "You said she was friendly, right?" she asked him tentatively.  He and I both nodded at the same time.

I cautiously gestured to the blueberry muffin I'd taken from the food box to show Ash earlier, "Would you like something to eat?  I promise I'm not scary like the other giants."  The little girl nodded eagerly and took a few steps away from her brother before turning back to him with a pleading look.  Instantly, he was beside her, and they came up to the plate beside me together, hand in hand.

It was a sweet moment, but it was broken by more yelling from the bunker.  A woman rushed out and barely uttered a few words before the man I'd seen first appeared as well, and yelled at her to get back inside, but she insisted that she wasn't leaving without her children.  

"You.. don't need to fight, they're both fine," I tried to tell them.  The woman nearly fainted at the sight of me, but Ivan quickly stepped in to try and explain the situation and prove to them that their kids were alright.  

The little girl beside me paid no mind to the banter, ravenously eating bits of blueberry muffin.  "I'm Jackie," she told me through a mouthful of food, "What's your name?" I smiled warmly at her.  She was awfully cute.  "I'm Alexis.  It's nice to meet you."  Jackie nearly choked trying to respond while looking all the way up at me, and her brother had to remind her not to talk with her mouth full.

I glanced up in surprise when I heard the sound of Erica’s voice joining in on the yelling match by the bunker’s opening.  This was why I hadn’t asked her to be my public relations person.  If there was an argument, chances are Erica would vehemently join in on it.  I sighed, but watched curiously as two tiny children clambered up the ladder and began wandering off.  They must’ve been the youngest siblings, the twins that Ash told us about.  They couldn’t have been more than five or so years old.  

“Hey,” I called, instantly silencing the fight, “You’ve got some runaways.”  I nodded to the twins, who’d also froze when I spoke — not out of fear of me, but from the simple fear that they’d been caught.  Their mother gasped and rushed over to them, taking them each by a hand.  

Seeing the whole family simultaneously brought both warmth and ice to my heart.  Warmth towards their innocent little bonds, which had survived despite the circumstances.  Ice towards their haunting composition.  All of them were deathly thin and the younger siblings were ghostly pale from their lack of time above ground.

“Everyone, since you’re all outside now, allow me to give you some gifts, courtesy of our little rescue group,” I announced, nodding at Erica and Ivan.  “I’ll step back if I make you uncomfortable, but please take as much as you want.  Oh, and if you have any suggestions for food, I can get it.  Anything you want.”  “I want a cookie!” Jackie gasped, “Ash, can I have one?  Please?”  He laughed, “Even one might be a bit too big.”  I took out the other box from my backpack, had the food box make a cookie, then placed it in the shrinking box.  It was a slightly tedious process, but I ended up with one tiny cookie, perfect for Jackie.  I cautiously handed it to her, balanced on a single fingertip.  “I can make them your size, too.”  

The little girl eagerly snatched up the treat without a second thought.  “How-  How’d you do that?” Ash asked, confused.  I shrugged, “Since I’m not from your world, I can do certain things and create certain things that you guys can’t.  It’s complicated,” I explained, “I’m not sure how it works either.  All I really know is that I can do it.”

Slowly, both parents along with the younger kids approached me.  Ivan ran up and handed each kid a stuffed animal from the pile of donated things we’d been gifted by less threatened cities.  I bent down slightly, trying to make myself look less threatening.  “I promise I don’t mean any of you harm,” I assured the adults, who were still wary of me.  

I had to move to a separate, smaller field a bit further away and let Ivan and Erica deal with the family.  I was excited to help out survivors, but also realized that they weren’t particularly excited about me.  Not without knowing what I’d done for the other towns, at least.

Erica would occasionally zoom back and forth between us and ask me for certain things — requests from various members of the family.  As I sat wondering just how many people were stuck like that, hidden away, the figure of someone approaching appeared beneath the trees. 

“Hey,” it was Ash, “I- I feel bad that my family forced you to sit out here alone.”  “That’s alright,” I told him with a soft smile, “I’m used to it.  There were a lot of people who were frightened of me at first.  It’s not just your family.”  He sighed longingly and leaned against one of the trees beside me.  “What is it?” I asked, shifting slightly to look down at him.

“It’s- I don’t want to live down in that bunker anymore, and you can take us to an actual town, somewhere where it’s protected — where I can do something to help people rather than hiding here.  But I know my parents will never agree to trustin’ you that much.  So, I’m stuck here.  Even though I have the perfect opportunity to get out.”  “You won’t leave them behind,” I recognized with a nod, “I don’t really want to leave you and your family out here either.  Do you really think they'd refuse?  What if they walked along beside me rather than riding with me?  It would be a lot slower, but I have the resources to do it."

Ash thought about my suggestion for a moment.  I could practically see the gears turning in his head.  "They might agree to that," he replied slowly, deep in thought.

Squinting against the harsh sunlight, he tilted his head almost all the way back to look at me.  "What's it like?" Ash asked suddenly, "Ridin’ with you?  How far can you see?"  I shrugged and gazed out over the grassy plains spread out across the earth beyond the nodding treetops of the forest around me.  "Well, I don't know how it would be for someone from your world, but the view is.. incredible," I whispered the last word in awe as a gust of wind bore down on the empty fields, making them ripple like waves.  "Sometimes I forget how nice everything looks from up here.  I haven't had the free time to sightsee much these days.  I've been a bit busy saving the world," I joked.

"Can I see the view too?"  I turned to him, surprised.  "If you're willing to come up here," I replied, offering him my open palm.  Ash hesitated, scrutinizing the surface of my hand as if he were searching it for a trap.  While he stood staring, Erica zoomed over to me with another request.  "Oh!  Ash!  You're here too!  Good.  I was worried your parents might freak out again if you disappeared."  

"Erica, look," I said, nodding at the scenery laid out like a painting before us.  "Whatever happened to watching the view together?"  She sighed happily and snuggled up into the side of my neck, "Those were the days, huh?  We were doing that, like, two months ago, but it seems like it's been forever.  Most of the time we get together I’m just exhausted."  

"What do you think of going off somewhere to sightsee once we get to the next town?  It'll be just the two of us."  "Sure!” Erica agreed happily, “Even if I am exhausted, you’ll be doing all the walking.  I kinda feel bad for using you as transportation so much these days, though.  You have to trek to every town while Ivan and I sit around and chat."  I shrugged, “I feel like it would be worse if I forced you two to walk or drive and try to keep up with me.”  “Oh, true,” Erica realized.  “Well, as long as you’re alright with it.”  “Even if you went by car, I’d still be walking anyway, and we’d be slower.  It might not be the best way for me to travel, but it’s the only way, so I’m alright.  Don’t worry about it.”  Satisfied, Erica nodded and returned to the rest of the group.

Ash watched her leap back over the treetops, mouth agape.  “How can she do that?” he asked me, “She’s from this world, right?  So why does she have superpowers?”  “I gave them to her,” I replied, “So she can help me fight off the giants that are taking everyone.”  “You can do that?”  “Yeah, I can do a lot of things.  I can probably do more, and I just don’t know how.  It has something to do with the fact that I don’t belong here, yet somehow manage to exist here regardless.  It’s the same thing as those boxes.. kind of.”  

He nodded slowly.  “Put your hand down again, I think I’m ready to get on.”  I placed my hand upturned beside him, holding it perfectly still while he cautiously came over to its side.  Ash hesitated again, this time trying to find the best way to get on.  Once he stepped up, he settled into the spot directly in the center of my palm.  

“Alright, hold on.”  I took my time lifting Ash gently into the air.  He quickly situated himself to better suit my movements, and gasped as I lifted him over the tops of the trees.  While he stared quietly at the view, I heard someone else coming through the forest.

Briefly, I feared that it was one of Ash’s parents, who wouldn’t be too happy if they found him in my clutches.  Ash noticed it too, though there was no way he could’ve heard them coming.  He must’ve felt my heartbeat nervously speed up beneath my palm.  Thankfully, it was only Jackie, who’d snuck away from the gathering in the other field.  She stopped, stunned by the sight of her older brother sitting in my hand.  

Ash waved to her, daring to scoot a little closer to the edge.  “Hey!  Lookit how high up I am!  Come up here and check it out!  The view’s crazy!”  Jackie shuddered and stepped back, glancing from me to the hand where Ash was perched.

“No.. I’ll just watch.  From down here.”  I understood.  I imagine it took a lot of courage for an other-worldian to do that.  Her brother kept pressuring her to get on, though.  He asked me to lower my hand so he could get her on, but when I brought it back down, I carefully tilted him off.  “Why don’t you two head back to the other field?” I suggested, “Before your parents can’t find either of you and start accusing us of awful things again."

Grudgingly, Ash walked back into the forest with his sister in tow.  She cast me a grateful look before following Ash beneath the trees, out of sight.  I was alone again until the sun set and the family retreated back underground to sleep.  Ivan and Erica called for me to return, and I stepped over to the larger field.  “Sorry for kicking you out earlier,” Ivan said once I sat down and started unpacking.  I assured him that I was fine with it and offered him my hand.  

Comfortably situated on my palm, Ivan told me about the progress they’d made with the parents.  “The older brother, Ash, asked his parents if they could all follow us to the next town.  He managed to convince them to walk there, but I don’t think they realize how far it is.”  “Is it too far away?” I asked, concerned.  “No, it’s.. it’s about ten miles out, but still, that’s a long way for this group.”

“Ash spoke to me about that plan earlier," I said thoughtfully.  "I told him that we have the resources to get them there, and that I'd be happy to take them.”  The others agreed with me.  Saving the family from near starvation in the bunker was another part of playing the heroes.  We’d save the world one person at a time, if that’s what it took.

[thedarkivist]

[Prologue]

There were multiple good reasons he struggled to overpower the other, but Hubert von Vestra wasn’t brought up to make excuses. He wasn’t raised to panic either, and so he did not. His thoughts didn’t race, and his hands didn’t shake when he yanked at the hair in his grasp and poured the toxin down the unwilling throat.

He tossed the empty vial aside, and quickly covered the other’s mouth, to prevent him from spitting. More fight than Hubert was used to in similar situations, but that was, perhaps, to be expected.

Finally, the other slumped on the sofa. Hubert counted till thirty, then stepped away, rubbing his hands together, as though to wipe away the things they’d done.

He sat down in an armchair, pulled out his pocket watch, and waited, unmoving, eyes fixed on the limp body across from him. Seven minutes later, the first convulsions started. Hubert got up and rang for a servant.

A maid appeared at once, but froze mid-curtsy when she saw the prime minister collapsed on the sofa.

“Bring a medic immediately,” Hubert said calmly, pretending not to notice how she recoiled from him. “The prime minister has been poisoned.”

[?]

“Some members of the staff already claim you were the one to poison Ferdinand.” That was Byleth, blunt as ever.

“Quite correctly, too,” Hubert said without looking at their old professor. “Still, we should prevent the news of his current state from spreading, if at all possible. Our prime minister is quite popular, and we wouldn’t want any unnecessary tensions to surface. Peace is a delicate equilibrium.”

Emotions still puzzled Byleth, often dragging them in directions they didn’t understand. Right now, they were fairly sure that the feeling that crawled up their throat, out of the tangle of confusion and worry for Ferdinand, was annoyance.

“Hubert, this joke isn’t as funny as you think. You did not poison Ferdinand.”

The minister of the imperial household picked a peach from the cut glass bowl between them. The flavour of greenhouse fruit always left something to be desired, but it was the best that could be done in the midst of winter. He never cared for peaches anyway.

“I assure you, I did poison him. And before you stoop to any insinuations that would be insulting to us both, I also want you to know that I poisoned him while in full possession of my faculties.” He pulled a small knife out of his sleeve, and slipped it under the yielding, velvety skin of the peach. Quite poor form on Byleth’s part, he noted to himself. If their roles were reversed he wouldn’t let them have anything that could be used as a weapon. “Should this get out, the papers will soon invent a neat motive. Maybe the prime minister became too popular and had to be reminded where his place is. Maybe I suspected him of harbouring Her Majesty’s enemies – that bleeding heart, led astray? Imagine.”

Byleth didn’t answer. Hubert stopped flaying the peach and met their eyes. They were sitting with their back to the window, their unnatural stillness in sharp contrast with the snowstorm raging outside.

“But do not let this distract you.” A vial was set atop the desk with a faint clink. As far as Byleth could tell, it contained nothing but water and a few curled tea leaves. “I gave him poison, yes, but someone else did it first.”

The mercenary leaned forward. “Explain.”

The door flew open, and in marched the Emperor, with two guards struggling to keep up. She put her hands on the desk, eyes sliding from Hubert to Byleth, then back to Hubert.

“No one seems capable of giving me a direct answer about what’s going on here,” she said. To most, she’d seem calm, but they both knew her well enough to recognise the tension thrumming beneath the nacre.

“Hubert was just about to bring me up to speed,” Byleth said, innocence made flesh. Traitor.

With a wave of her hand, Edelgard dismissed the guards, crossed her arms, and waited.

Hubert sighed, then uncorked the vial, and let a few drops fall onto the peach. No one moved. The reaction wasn’t immediate – but after a minute, the liquid began to foam and emit a heavy, acrid odour, like rotting meat. Then, in front of their eyes, the peach began to melt.

“What are you trying to say?” Edelgard asked. Byleth held back a sigh of relief. Getting answers out of Hubert was usually easier when she was the one doing the interrogating.

“It was in his tea,” Hubert said quietly. Suddenly, he looked different. Tired. “I know the toxin, yes, but I noticed it too late.” With a click of his fingers, he set the melting peach ablaze. “It takes a couple of minutes for the toxin to start working, which leaves a window of time between the ingestion, the collapse, and finally, death. It changes nothing, though. There is no antidote.”

Byleth raised an eyebrow. “But you weren’t the one who gave it to him.”

The mage shook his head. “I administered a different poison. It is an antagonist, which means that when it interacts with the toxin that was slipped to him, they weaken each other.”

Edelgard slowly exhaled, and pulled up a chair. “That makes more sense. Do you have any idea who could’ve done this?”

“Not at present, but I will do everything within my power to find the culprit. Now, it is essential to determine whether the prime minister was the sole target, or whether others are in danger.”

There was silence as his words sank in, at last disrupted by the sharp, insistent tapping of Byleth’s fingertips on the polished surface of the desk. “Will he survive?”

Hubert averted his face. “It’s too early to say. Even if he does, there is no guarantee he will be able to return to his duties.”

No one wanted to say it, but they were all thinking the same thing – that would be an issue.

[traffic-light-eyes]

Ninja as influencers

My previous post got me thinking, and now I have to write this down.

Kai:

He for sure has Twitter/Chirp and uses it regularly. Very popular. He also has the ninjago equivalent to Instagram and is also very popular there, too. I could imagine him having a yt channel and doing silly vlogs and the occasional game, but that's about it. The other ninja were a bit weirded out by the vlogs at first because they didn't really want to feed into the whole idolizing the ninja thing, but realized that they could show the world that they're just. People. Normal people who save the world sometimes but are normally just passed out on the couch. They all love being in his vlogs now. When he records something embarrassing, he makes absolutely certain that the person it's of is okay with it being posted. Like, he gives them weeks to think about it. He has a video of Zane singing let it go (due to Jay's programming skills), and he was ecstatic to be able to post it. He's also a tiktok star. He does the silly dances and lip-syncing.

Nya:

She has Chirp but doesn't use it for social media purposes? If that makes sense. Like, she mainly only scrolls through her friends' chirps and responds to those. She gets into the groove and made a really sweet and chill community once the people that were only there for the "inside scoop" of the water ninja's life left. Now there's just her friends and a bunch of nice people. She comments on and rechirps? a lot of fanart, though. She has an Instagram but only to comment on Kai's posts with a thumbs down. She has a tiktok. It's secret. She posts little edits about her artwork or mechanics. It's fairly popular. She sometimes uses the filters and makes videos using them but never posts them.

Cole:

Similar to Nya, he has a Chirp account but doesn't really use it much. He'll respond to fanart and fans, but he only really posts occasionally. His posts normally consist of song recommendations or riffs of his friends. He threads callouts when he feels especially petty. It's pretty chill. He probably has a secret second account for art. He doesn't want people to like his art just because he's the earth ninja, so he made a second account. He has a tumblr too. I don't make the rules. He tries to stay in the loop with everyone's thoughts and shuts down the gross people. He's pretty well-known on the site. He likes reblogging the ship content and misdirecting people because it's funny. Pixal found him drawing techno and he scrambled for an excuse but she silently put a finger to her lip, winked, and left. He was very confused. She was absolutely dying on the inside from laughter because she knew of his account but wanted to freak him out. He couldn't look her in the eye for a week because he thought she thought he shipped them or something. She purposefully spoke to him often. He kept trying to explain, but Pixal always had an excuse to leave or change the subject before he could say it.

Lloyd:

He has Chirp. He has tumblr. He has ao3. He's not allowed on Instagram. He has a yt channel where he exclusively talks about comics and games. On his Chirp, he is completely unhinged some times, and other times, he posts cute animals he finds on missions or on patrol. He found a stray cat once and named her mittens because a follower commented it. He has #mittensmonday, where he posts a picture of her. It's always trending on Monday. His tumblr is once again about games and stuff, but he has a semi-secret side blog for Ninja Shenanigans where it's theorized that it's him, but no one has proof and he doesnt give a direct answer. He has unknowingly reblogged and messaged Cole on multiple occasions because he doesn't know about the Secret account. Cole doesn't know what to do. His ao3 account is mostly to check up on what people are thinking. If he sees something unsavory, he immediately logs off because that's him. Avid tiktok enjoyer. He could make a video of just him staring at the screen, and it would go viral. He finds it hilarious. It's his goal to find the most obscure thing to post and for it to finally not get viral.

Zane:

He has Chirp, but he hasn't used it. Either that or he uses it so terribly incorrectly. I could be convinced that he has a cooking yt channel. He'd call it something nerdy or informational, but people kept chirping about it calling him cookingmama, and he doesn't get it? But due to Jay's persistence, he changed his @ to cookingmama.

Jay:

He has Chirp. He uses it to keep up with the world + just talk to fans. He has a gaming channel and a Twitch account. He streams at least once a week. He loves it! He has a pretty chill community, and he often asks his friends to play with him. He makes sure that the games he play with them are suited to them first. He doesn't ask. He just knows. He picks action-based games for Kai - maybe LoL or, like, Left 4 dead. He plays silly smart games with Nya, like Portal or Keep talking and nobody explodes (they are ridiculously good at this). He and Cole would play scary games. They exclusively play them at night; phasmaphobia has caused many of the ninja to awaken to a shriek. Comfy and typically non-violent games are his and Lloyd's go-to. They'll play Minecraft or stardew for HOURS before they realize the sun is coming up. He and Zane play semi-stressful cooking games, or Zane is just there for commentating. They'll be seen playing overcooked or cooking simulator (they always play that one with a challenge somehow). He makes silly follower goals, and he has unfortunately had to do many, many things because his followers keep rising.

Honorary Ninja, Pixal:

She has an account for every platform that the ninja have just to crowd control + to support them in their comments. She rarely, if ever, posts anything aside from commenting on her friends' posts. Hc that Borg owns every platform, so she uses that to weed out the weirdos by asking him to make the platform very buggy on their device specifically. It's only a matter of time before they delete the app, and she loves watching the downfall via their posts and complaints about the website. She knows of everyone's account, even the Secret ones. She never lets them know that she knows of them, even if they do something strange because of it (check Cole's). She loves messing with them. If someone posts something recently, she conveniently talks about it the same day and gives them whiplash because what are the chances that she said that today. She's the go-to gal if there are any tech issues on stream or during editing.

Here ya go! Hope you enjoy my brainrot <3

[littleeyesofpallas]

Been meaning to go back and take stock of my "score" on the ongoing @bleach-smashorpass, I've grayed out anything where my personal pick didn't match the popular outcome, and left the ones where I fall into the majority vote in color.

Look, I'll be real, I'm not above monsterfuckery, even if I don't consider it ""my thing"" but I'd have voted smash on Ayon if he didn't have his weird secret muppet face. Also Aaroniero was an extremely light smash, i really had to flip flop on that one a few times before making a choice. I'll be honest, I liked original Chapter25 epilogue Aisslinger way more than what we got in the Arrancar Arc, and if I could split the vote I'd smash original and pass on final design for him.

Bambi is just such a boring design, and honestly Batsuunsai isn't much better, but the glasses are cute. She was really close to being a pass.

I was actually surprised that I had to stop and think about Choe but his giant chin and tiny bowl cut were not doing him any favors. Also as much as I like Cyan as a character, there is just something about hime cuts that are an automatic off switch for me. the rest of these felt fairly obvious.

not gonna lie, little hurt by the lack of D-Roy and Dordonii love

Confused that people were so lukewarm on Findor, although it was a close split. Also oddly I could have sworn I passed on Furofushi... I'm not really a fan of pigtails, with very few exceptions, but when I went to check the poll results it said I voted smash. Maybe I was thinking she was feeling Hiyori adjacent enough to count it at the time? I.... I don't remember voting smash on Entetsu...

i feel very scandalized by having voted unpopularly on all these old men... I'll be honest, Gremmy is a very lukewarm smash, and the potential of the Visionary power as a sex thing was very much the deciding factor.

boy bleach fans really don't like moustaches, huh? So funny enough it wasn't until the anime that I realized Hidetomo has his multiple earrings and somehow that changed his whole vibe for me, but prior to that it would have been an easy pass. I absolutely cannot abide characters whose whole thing is being someones dead wife/girlfriend, even if she otherwise looks exactly like Rukia, who'll be a smash for sure once we get to the Rs.

i figured i'd be on the wrong side of the fence with the kurosaki men but it's a real hard no on all the above. I'll be real, I'm kinda surprised Ikkaku was so popular. The rest of these felt obvious. Oh wait no there was like no love for Izumi Ishida. Boo to that.

okay so hear me out... Jugram is too blond. I know that sounds like nonsense, but like, he's too fundementally blond. Like most of Bleach's blond characters could have other generally light hair colors, and it wouldn't super change their image or aesthetic, but Jugram has to be blonde because the alternatives don'teel the same, and that's too much blond for me.

i know i voted pass on ichigo, which might make smash on kaien seem weird, but it's between the personality difference and the eyelashes. People not smashing on Kiyone is a catastrophe

and with that i'm all caught up with the letters where all the polls that have already closed. i'll be back to update these as the rest keep rolling along. I dunno why I really did this apart from the compulsion

[mudstoneabyss]

can you make a list of your top indie horror game recs ::3

yeah! so these wont be in order of what i like the most, they're just going to be here in whatever order I think of them. i'm also trying to go with what I think are more lesser-known ones, and if one is more popular it'll because I think it's one people write off that are actually good. as i'm writing this i'm going back up to say the descriptions for these will become less detailed because i got tired and cant keep repeating the art!! the atmosphere!!

Scarlet Hollow: A heavily choice-based horror mystery visual novel about going back to Scarlet Hollow- a small town in south historically ran by your family- for the funeral of your late aunt. its episodic and there are currently only 4 of the 7 episodes out. even with just them it is my favorite game. I love the writing and the art and the whole atmosphere of the game AND the soundtrack brought Brandon Boone (the composer) into my top 5 artists in my spotify wrapped last year

Slay the Princess: Another choice-based horror visual novel (and dating sim!) by the creators of Scarlet Hollow where you are tasked with, well, slaying the princess to prevent the destruction of the entire world. It's only a demo right now-releasing q3 of this year- but I'm excited for the whole game! my selling point for it with my followers is that the narrator (and some other characters) are voiced by Jonny Sims and hey podcast fans you like him check out this game

Endacopia: A click and point horror game inspired by Humongous Entertainment games such as Pajama Sam. Currently also a demo and set to release in October of 2024, I can not emphasize enough how excited I am for it. The game's style is so fun and there's lots of little details and the music??? There's two musical numbers in the demo alone. Some of the style and writing also reminds me of Undertale and even Homestuck somewhat (I say as someone who hasn't read homestuck)

FAITH: The Unholy Trinity: This is an 8-bit style horror game inspired by the 1980s Satanic Scare coming in 3 chapters with multiple endings, a very good example of games not needing high-end realistic graphics to be scary

Doki Doki Literature Club: Glances at my icon. who could've seen this one coming. I feel like most people know about ddlc by now, even if they don't know anything past "horror anime dating sim". It starts off for a long while a seemingly normal, if bland, visual novel dating sim until-seemingly suddenly- twisting into psychological horror. There's, however, a lot of foreshadowing once you see the beginning again after knowing what will happen. Honestly I think this games brilliant and its such a shame it somehow got lumped in with "cringe" mascot horror (its not even a mascot horror game?). For me a lot of the horror comes from the amount of scares left up to a random percentage- and how subtle a lot of them are. You can replay it and have a fairly different experience than you did the first time- and be scared by completely new things. There's also this existential and cosmic horror element that is less one you experience while playing it, i think, and more thinking about it afterwards. This isn't even touching on a lot of the secrets and easter eggs. a few years after the original game came out, Doki Doki Literature Club Plus was released, and it leaves the og game experience essentially untouched while adding a new vn experience the length of the og game (thats seemingly horror-less) as well as some more lore to the world, not of the game, but around the game, and builds more on the existential/cosmic horror. Needless to say from the length of this, I adore this game. also take the content warnings seriously, in the (free) og the game opens with warnings and a link to a page with specific tws, and in ddlc+ you are given the options to see those warnings listed before starting the game, as well as the ability to turn on tw pop-ups before game events

Home Safety Hotline: Also currently a demo, a horror game where you work for a home safety hotline, answering calls to help people deal with pests and other household problems. as the game progresses you get some more... off-putting calls and access to more unusual problems. I love games that put you into the role of someone who works a mundane job dealing with horrifying shit (similar reasoning to why I like the I'm On Observation Duty games, which I think are more popular rn than I want to put on this list)

NiGHT SIGNAL: By the same creator of Home Safety Hotline, this one's a short one about getting a new tv set and finding some strange channels during the night, inspired by The Twilight Zone and a 1995 game, The Dark Eye. A lot of the art in the game is done with clay which creates this really nice uncanny look and atmosphere- details about which you can see in an artbook you unlock after playing the game, which is REALLY cool I adore seeing the creativity behind and what goes into games like these.

and there's a bunch more I like, these are just the ones off the top of my head and I also dont feel like typing a bunch more dfnafnsk I'll also say if yall haves one you really like that I havent mentioned feel free to send an ask talking about them

[apphiarothowrites]

Modern MAS Musician Au ]

this has been poking my brain, will I ever write it who knows?

Ace Punk Rock; Machine gun Kelly- very mainstream and adored for his music

Sabo alternative punk; YUNGBLUD - less mainstream but very popular in the UK and with lgbt/marginalized groups

Now Ace and Sabo have collaborated and have some.. feelings but that ain't gonna be looked at too closely cause both of them are focused on their careers. Anyway they end up getting contacted by Whitebeard records (a huge deal, Edward newgate was known as the father of rock for a reason)

SO they come in and are met by Newgate himself, Basically the deal is they are to collaborate in a album to re-launch Di-Angels Return.

Now for those who don't Know Di-angel or for those who were fans Marci Diangelo was a HUGE deal back in the day. Like Joan Jett mixed with Lady gaga. The woman was the beginning of the punk rock scene, aggressively making out with both genders for paparazzi and generally being an absolute menace. Ace and Sabo of course say yes, (Sabo was inspired to start his own music career by her and Ace just thinks she's neat.)

Anyway the day comes where they are supposed to meet Her, Di- Angel, Marci and of course Sabo is kinda fanboying and Ace may or may not be very jealous cause come on, she was hot back in the day but she's in her 40s now. Instead of the busty blonde who once screamed into the microphone about flying away. They are met with a blonde man in a leather jacket.

"Uhm, excuse me?" Ace wants to be irritated but damn the guy is smokin hot. "We were supposed to be meeting Di-angel here."

The man blinks sleepy blue eyes, "yeah, I know."

Sabo bites his lip eye twitching, "You- Marci, we are meeting with Marci Diangelo, the singer."

The blonde man sticks a cig in his mouth, the corner quirking up. "Just said, I know. But you obviously are a bit behind the times." The man stands towering over both of them, "I go by Marco now, call me Marci again and I'll send you both through the door got it?"

Oh shit, fuck yeah, this is GOOD SHIT right here raccooon.

Ever since Pops suggested relaunching Di-Angel, Marco's been nothing but a roll of anxiety in human skin. While their family was fairly accepting, and the punk-rock community as a whole generaly was too, the larger scene is...well. Not quite the same. With most of the people of Marco's generation reacting across the entire spectrum from acceptance to hard rejection, Marco honestly didn't think it would be a good idea.

Yes, his voice and range dropped by a few octaves. Yes his old favorite dresses didn't fit the same any more (not that he wanted to put on most of them any more, just the shiny leather number but he had to get it tailored for the new dimension of his chest and hips). Yes, he's different now and that difference is something that he's gotten shit for from people he thought were friends and something that people he thought hated him were supportive of. It's been a roller coaster of strangeness and that was before Pops suggested relaunching his music career.

He left music because he knew the reactions would be. Mixed. once things got off the ground for his transition. Music never left him-Pops has multiple videos of him humming melodies and tapping beats from doctors' offices and one in a hospital bed-but the scene? He assumed the scene left him well behind.

Then Pops came to him with this insane idea and told him that these two young pups, rising stars and rough diamonds the both of them, were jumping and chomping at the bit. Marco didn't know what to think. He told Pops he'd reserve judgement until they met, but even then the hotcold churning in his stomach of anxiety was steadily eating his confidence of this whole thing working.

Then he meets them and despite the fact that neither of them knew who he was now, they were adorably eager just as Pops said. And, just as Pops said, they're talented if a bit raw. Unrefined, somehow. Both have a similar feel-rough voices in a slightly high medium range, but what really grabs Marco's attention is that they both actually play. Something that's fallen out of fashion in newer bands, that their lead vocalists know what to do with a guitar in hand, they both pick up an axe during the experimental jam session and they aren't too bad either. They know classic riffs and stings, whole lead lines from classic and punk rock staples.

Then something of a miracle happens. Ace picks up a bass and smacks out a fairly simple beat on 5, jumping octaves, and Sabo picks up Marco's old stage piece and. Oh.

That's the lead and bass of "I Feel Fine" and Marco's nothing if not a perfectionist for the classics. He grabs the mic they rigged up for his studio, coughs to clear his throat, and-

Ace does something to the bass beat, a lick or two to change things juuuuust a little and Sabo slips a few 16th and 32nd notes here and there, little twangs to change the key down a half step and suddenly its not The Beatles any more, it's something a little rougher, a little less refined, it's something from the back alleys of a queer bar that Marco used to dress butch for where he got called a good man for the first time. It's like being in love, if love were a dirty suckerpunch and a cigarette after-if love was two men who might not always be men-if love was a little less straight.

That ends up being the second song on the album a year later, a fucking Beatles cover that rockets them right to the top of the charts in multiple countries and forces Marco back into the spotlight no matter how much he tries pushing the younger stars forward and blames them for the majority of their sound. Three vocalists who trade off is definitely strange, especially since Marco is....well, not 'Marci' any more.

But it works, somehow Pops' insane idea doesn't explode in their faces, and if there's maybe a little charged something that happens in the limo ride home from their first awards show, something that's been building for months and months over heated eye contact and falling asleep on each other in the studio and appreciative whistling during the set and costume set-up of music videos, well.

That's their business and nobody else's. And if that charged something results in Ace stumbling down into Marco's kitchen in the middle of the night only to scream at Thatch who's in the tradition of making Marco breakfast after award shoes (started before Di-Angel and 'Marci' ever got big), who then screams right back at him which draws both Sabo and Marco down to see what the goddamn noise is about. Well.

That's also their business and nobody else's. (yes Thatch even you, get the fuck out of my kitchen, goddamn-yoi)

[five-star-stay]

Hi!! As a hanji stan I fully agree with you and I bring you at least one more thing to fairly complain about!! Screen time. It happens very very often that when they are performing and it’s HIS PART, the cameras just. Don’t film him. They zoom out, they show the audience, sometimes they even focus on a different member (hyunjin or felix usually). I used to gif him a lot and this got me so angry so many times!!! What else does he have to do to get a tiny bit of attention??? He has shown multiple times (all the time tbh) just how insanely talented and charismatic he is! There’s literally not one single thing he can’t do. All rounder is not just a silly cutesy nickname thing here. He’s the real deal… literally one of my reasons for biasing him is just how amazing his overall performance as an idol is. He can sing, he can rap, he can dance, he sounds even better live, he has stage presence, he’s funny, he’s sweet, he’s cute, he’s good looking, and so much more that I’m forgetting right now…

As far as I know the only thing he deliberately actually stood away from was getting his solo Instagram account when the rest of the members got theirs…

It’s been very frustrating to watch as the other members get amazing solo opportunities and he gets literally nothing…

Hi anon, I completely agree with what you said and yes I completely sympathise with your frustrations. Even in music videos, he's never been made a thumbnail and that makes me so sad like not even on HIS songs. He's not getting the chance to be the face of it. And a lot of times in mvs too like social path, his screen time is literally just what they showed in the teaser even though he has the most beautiful bridge in it the focus isn't on him in mv during that part at all.

I understand that felix and hyunjin are pushed more as the faces of the group and the most popular members, and I have no ill will towards them. But why does pushing them come at the cost of han never even getting the bare minimum?

They also plastered an ot7 Tommy Hilfiger campaign all across their stores and it felt maddening that people were calling han stans rude or childish for asking why han didn't get accommodated and wasn't given a separate solo shoot on a later date so he could've been part of the campaign in at least solo shots. And the way they could've done a billion things to include him but all they did was qrt a skz post and said "❤️❤️ HAN" and getting thanked for it by "stays" while they hid replies about being called out for zionism and not tagging han on insta and tiktok as if he isn't part of the group is SEARED in my brain. And they couldn't even spell skz right... i hate that brand's social media team but also you need two hands to clap, div1 is just as at fault.

Another instance was not promoting lee know and han's instagram on their group instagram stories, they had 29 million followers then and 30 million now. When other 6 made their ig it was big news and shared on the stories so everyone knew. But minsung made it on skz anniversary day which was a day filled with a lot of posts spammed on the group account, making it so nobody knew about the group account tagging them in the caption because it was after the "read more" and most people don't click that button especially on days with so many posts to catch up on. Results: the other 6 hit 3 million in 24 hours and minsung took a couple months and han has just now reached 4 million. It's frustrating because at every step, the company has let Han down and it's always coupled with excuses from so called stays that just don't care about Han individually. I'm honestly so concerned about how jype will handle their solo careers if they don't even realise or care enough to make sure minsung don't get left behind in terms of followers on private instagram (which will affect their engagement and brand deals) just because they took their time and waited for when they felt ready. They're literally being punished for doing what's right for them.

I hate it all!!!

I wish han can negotiate a better deal for himself in a new contract and if he decides to stay on for the group but join some other agency for solo promotion, I would not blame him because jype just tries to bury his individuality and doesn't let him create a brand for himself. Literally the only thing he has is his hanpop and even then it's months of him sometimes asking on live for stays to tell skziji that they want certain songs released. Please God, give Han a management that appreciates him.

Proof:

[dukeofriven]

Once again thinking about how Windblade and Chromia had the misfortune to be in the half of the IDW Transformers comic line that just consistently, grindingly sucked shit. While John Barber and Carlos Guzman were redefining not only how you could tell a Transformers story but making fairly radical moves in a branded IP space, with queer characters, politics, humour— intentionality!— poor Windblade had to sit in the murk of the warmed-over-third-rate Simon Furman-esque blundering conflicts that was Robots in Disguise. I think in the rear window of MTMTE its interesting to note the degree to which it argued that not only was 'war' played out as plotline for the franchise, it might well be the least interesting mode for Transformers as a whole. Ironic for a franchise built entirely on the toyetic appeal of robots fighting, but anyone's who has slogged through IDW's ups and downs knows that the fighting was always ths story at its weakest, and this hold true across multiple artists and writers. This is not to say that every Transformers storms needs to be a workplace dramedy—rather MTMTE was continuing a tradition present in the early Furman era, which was at its with stories during Infiltration, the disguise and covert operations. Across all incarnations of the comic, whenever things went into 'cinematic scale' mode and everyone had to team up for a big throw-down fight with some combiner or Galvatron , everything just got tedious. IDW's doom was that of a lot of legacy franchise IPs: inevitably, somebody would come along and go 'well this doesn't match our core brand identity' and inevitably try and drag everything back to more closely resemble 'the thing as was popular in its original form,' which in Transformer case means no one being allowed to move on from a forumalic eighties cartoon with its episodic quota of punch-em-ups. Anyways, that's a long way of saying of Windblade and Chromia deserved to be in a comic that had better things to do than faff about setting-up hot garbage like Dark Cybertron and walking back character beats every five minutes so as make sure characters never left franchise stasis.

[avocado-frog]

hey this is chance and here’s week 4’s prompt. how do strangers within the world view your protagonists? how would they describe them? and how does this contrast against how the protagonist views themself?

!!week four's prompt!!

Logan- gives kids at lemonade stands 100 usd. bakes cookies for new neighbors. he's well-liked and fairly well-known. he likes to think the rest of the neighborhood likes him, but he gets surprised at how many people Know him

Leo- banned from most public spaces. Makes children cry on purpose. Canonically she broke an old man's knees with a golf club. Rummages through people's trash for stuff. She's aware The other kids think she's a wet cat

Cass- adored by all. she's got the healing magic so people go to her instead of doctors sometimes bc she doesn't charge. Leo steals from them regardless. Makes flower crowns for people at the park probably. Hangs out with Dylan at the garden so the garden people know her. Very modest about this

Kai + Marcy- richest family in the whole goddamn town. Kai is a lot more polite about it than his sister. Marcy is Awful

Lily- That specific brand of hot cheeto girl who tell kids off for being disrespectful to the teachers. I think she's popular at school but because people like her/they like Logan and Jaxon and know they're siblings. She's confident + i think she's aware that the other kids like her. Leo does not believe that she's liked

Jaxon- he's soo friendly actually. Somehow, he's made friends with every kid in the city, and he volunteers at the library, and he also gets into fights a lot. Aside from that Reputation in school, people like him <3 hope nothing happens to him. Jax knows how good he is at making friends and uses his power for good

Dylan- my favorite fact about them is that they do community garden work with the old ladies and so i think the grandma community adores them. Dylan goes to bingo thursdays.

Ryan- very shy. he doesn't like to talk to people he doesn't know, and he hasn't made many friends in school, especially after he left with Leo in dahlia. He thinks he's the most hated child in the whole world

Sam- Nike kid. Sports boy. If a parent has a child who does multiple sports, they Keep Seeing Sam, because he's in karate, basketball, baseball, track, and soccer. No one knows how he does it Middle child syndrome

Elliot- Elliot's favorite hobby is making intense eye contact with strangers to make them uncomfortable and he likes to say just the most obscure shit. He just goes up to people and tells them about the rat in his pocket. Sometimes he hangs out with Dylan, so I bet he goes to bingo thursdays too lol. He also thinks he's the most hated child in the whole world

[catcreatesstuff]

A few (hundred) words about the closure of Team TripleJump

About five years ago I was playing Jackbox on a Discord call with a few friends, and we got to chatting about work. At the time I had a secure, well-paying job, but I wasn't feeling at all creatively fulfilled by it, and after a bit of a whinge, I half-jokingly asked my pal James Jenkins, who at the time was working for a favourite YouTube channel of mine, if they had any jobs going. He said they didn't at the moment, but if anything came up, he'd let me know.

Fast forward a few weeks and I get a message from him telling me the channel, TripleJump, were in the market for freelance scriptwriters, and linking me to the job description. I read through it and was filled with excitement; this was exactly the sort of thing I was looking for, and so I began plugging away at a spec script on the subject of the Batman: Arkham games.

About 500 words in though, the imposter syndrome began to creep in. I hadn't written anything aside from PowerPoints since I'd left university, what the Hell was I thinking applying for this job? There was no way anything I wrote was going to be any good, so why was I even trying? I set the script aside, and pretty much put the whole thing out of my mind.

Shortly before the submission deadline, I got another message from James asking me if I'd applied in the end, and at that point my guilt over causing someone the inconvenience of getting them to keep an eye out for a job and letting me know about it trumped my imposter syndrome, and so, over the next few hours, I knocked out what I thought was a fairly poor script and sent it to the channel.

Well, it turns out that script wasn't so bad after all, and sometime later I was offered the opportunity to write one Top 10 script per week for TripleJump. I was introduced to Philip Reed, the channel's Senior Staff Writer, and with his guidance and mentorship, I quickly settled into my new freelance role.

Alas, instead of being a creative outlet to balance the stresses of a corporate job, my time freelancing for TripleJump only made me more unhappy with my career, something which I expressed to Philip on multiple occasions. "I wish I could do this full time," I'd tell him, never actually thinking it was possible. Well, it turns out that Philip, that sneaky devil, had been relaying my wishes to the powers that be at the channel, and around nine months after I started freelancing, Adam Pacitti was on the phone offering me a full time job.

To some, leaving behind a steady, secure role to write jokes about video games in the notoriously fickle world of YouTube might have seemed insane, but it was the best thing I've ever done.

I've written literally hundreds of scripts, from serious pieces on why people still think video games are to blame for real-world violence to utterly bonkers joke videos that claim that the Boeing 787-10 Dreamliner was the hunkiest video game boy of 2020. I've also gotten to write and act in a video game, attend Insomnia Festival as a member of the press, and GM a game of Dungeons & Dragons on a livestream for hundreds of viewers.

Of course, my experience working for TripleJump would have been nothing without the amazing, talented, wonderful people I got to work with day in, day out. Ben Potter, Peter Austin, Ashton Matthews, James Jenkins, Ciaran Henry, Alex Winters, and the late, great Philip Reed have been the best colleagues, friends, and mentors anyone could hope for. Their passion and creativity knows no bounds, and I feel truly blessed to have spent the past four years working alongside and learning from these brilliant people.

TripleJump as a channel might be over, but looking back at all we've achieved, I couldn't be more proud of us. What started as two blokes and a fuzzy walrus bemoaning awful video games has grown into a hugely popular channel with perhaps the greatest community in the industry, and I feel truly honoured to have been a part of it for as long as I have.

Had I known things would end up this way when I accepted the job, I still wouldn't have changed a thing. Most people go their whole lives never even liking what they do for work; I've been lucky enough to spend four years doing what I love with a group of people who inspire me to be the best I can possibly be, and I'm so excited to see what they all get up to next because I just know that whatever they do, they're all going to absolutely smash it.

So what are my take aways from all of this? Well, it turns out that I am a pretty damn good writer and I should probably have a little more faith in myself, and although taking risks, especially in your career, can be scary, they have the potential to lead to the most wonderful things.

To everyone in the TripleJump community, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your endless support over the years. And to Ben, Peter, Ashton, James, Ciaran, Alex, and Philip, I thank you for the best four years of my life.

[cocoeclipse]

A Separate Interview

I took a deep breath as I entered the building. It felt off-putting to be the one entering the building rather than dropping Finny off in front of it; for me to be the center of attention and nobody else. The entrance room was small with a brown carpet and couch. The walls were a simple off-white color with pictures of the student radio hosts. On the wall to the left of the door– the side the couch was facing– there was a large window into the recording room, bordered by a simple wooden frame. On the opposite side of the entrance door, was a wood door with a clear window to see into the room and above it an “On Air” sign, which led to the recording room. As I sat on the couch, I couldn’t help but reflect on what got me here; writing that novel. A Separate Peace was only meant to help my patients understand the impact of lack of communication; not be an award-winning book. It was meant to explain the complexities of jealousy, admiration, and friendship as well as how they intertwine with one another; not a popular story simplified down into something unrecognizable. Most of all, it was to display how war affects the mind; not encourage people to force themselves or their kids towards war.

I was never supposed to be interviewed over it.

“Mr. Forrester,” someone called, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. I looked up and saw a student standing in the doorway. He looked to be an Upper Middler– so about 16– and was wearing a black suit and white undershirt; fairly standard attire for a radio show host. “We’re ready for your interview,” he continued. I stood up and walked into the recording room. It was pretty small with a desk and a pair of chairs in the center. On the desk, sat a panel with buttons and knobs; probably controlling the radio’s music and talking segments. In front of the chairs were microphones, one preset to a specific height and one unadjusted. The host sat in the chair with the preadjusted mic, so I sat down in the other chair and pulled the mic down to my height.

“So, Mr. Forrester,” the host began, “my name is Todd. Are there any specific questions you would like me to ask once the broadcast starts?”

“Nope,” I replied, “as long as it doesn’t pertain to my personal life, you can ask me anything.”

“GREAT! We’re going to go live in just a few minutes, so I hope you’re ready.”

I sat in the chair composing myself for the next five minutes, this was just an interview. Finny does these all the time and I’ve done multiple to get to where I am today; so why were my hands shaking? Why was I so nervous? I took some deep breaths while I waited for Todd to announce that the radio station was live 

“Welcome back to WPEA with your host, Todd!” he announced. “As always, today we have an alumni interview, if you could introduce yourself,” he continued, switching the focus over to me.

I took a deep breath before beginning, “Hello students of Devon. My name is Gene Forrester. I’m an author and psychologist who was part of Devon’s class of 1943.” I took another calming breath before continuing, “My most recent and most popular work is A Separate Peace.”

“Thank you for coming Mr. Forrester; now, my first question is, what inspires you to write your books? I’ve read a few of them and they’re quite good.”

“Thank you, I’ve worked quite hard on them,” I admitted. “Most of my books are written to help my patients or their families understand mental health problems. Some are more specific while some were primarily passion projects, but overall I wrote my books to help the public to understand how different actions are caused by or affect people’s mentality,” I explained nervously.

“That’s quite interesting to learn, sir. Now, pertaining to your most recent book, what most heavily inspired the novel?” Todd inquired.

“Well, there are a few things I wanted to touch on in A Separate Peace,” I started, conjuring up confidence I didn’t have. “First was the importance of communication in a relationship, specifically friendships,” I continued, omitting that Finny and I began dating later that summer. “Another important topic was jealousy. The combination of these things is what causes the main conflict. Finally– and I think most importantly– was how war affects the mind. Most of my patients and friends have experienced the effects of World War Two, and I feel that it is important to show how much it affects people, especially those who are younger.”

“Wow, Mr. Forrester, that’s quite a noble reason for writing your book,” Todd replied. I felt myself blush with a bit of embarrassment. Out of all my pieces, A Separate Peace had been the least noble. While the book may appear admirable, I wrote it as more of a self-dissection and reflection than anything else. A passion project, if you will. “Moving onto the plot of your book, what inspired the specific scenes in the novel? And were any of them based on your real life?”

I chuckled, thinking about the most important moments. “Well, most of the scenes in the summer were real events with some slight discrepancies of course.”

“Could you elaborate on those changes for us? I’m sure our listeners are eager to hear the details,” prompted Tom.

“Of course!” I replied, “The main changes include a slight change to the dialogue of the beach scene, the spiraling over Finny hating me during chapter 4, and jouncing the limb. The dialogue change was done to further explain the importance of communication and the other scenes were the byproduct of that,” I explained.

 “During the scene at Finny’s home, there were two changes, though neither of them were particularly important, so I don’t think I need to go into detail over them.” I paused here, thinking of other important scenes. “The ordeal with Quackenbush was based on interactions some of the other boys had with him, I don’t remember which exactly. Most of chapter 7 is the same except for the application to the war. The inverse can be said about chapter 8, as the only real event is when Finny told me the winter loves him and that whole conversation.” I took another pause to think about what to say next, and avoid mentioning anything about my relationship with Finny.

“Chapters nine and ten– that’s the Winter Carnival and my talk with Leper– are mostly unchanged except for Finny’s leg being broken. Chapters 11 through 13 on the other hand are almost complete fabrications. To be honest, the end of my time at Devon was actually pretty nice; the novel’s ending was written solely for narrative purposes. I guess a slight inspiration of mine for the key scenes in those chapters would be the time I was on jury duty while writing the novel, which really helped with the trial scene of chapter 11. I’m fairly certain those were all the scenes that had inspirations from real-world events,” I finished. Part of me thought I talked for a bit too long, but it was an interview so that should’ve been okay. Thankfully, Todd reassured me with his reply.

“It seems like most of the novel was based on real experiences. This being said, are the characters based on real people?” Todd asked.

“Yes, each of the characters are real people from Devon with the Gene in the novel being a stand-in for myself.”

“Now I’m curious, have I or another host interviewed any of them?” Todd asked. I had to think about this for a bit; other than Phineas, had the other boys been interviewed at all? Well, I think Brinker was interviewed last week. I believe Chet had one last month too.

“I believe three of them have been interviewed, then again a few more may have but I can’t remember,” I finally gave as my reply.

“I’m a bit curious as to which ones, but I want to try and guess.”

I chuckled, for it was probably pretty obvious, but I let him try anyway. “Go right ahead, Todd.”

“Let’s see,” he began, “I believe I interviewed Brinker Hadley this time last week. Then a few months ago I interviewed another 1940s alumni, what was his name again… oh! Chet Douglass! They were a CEO and an orchestra member respectively,” he exclaimed. “As for the last one, I’m not entirely sure. I can’t remember interviewing anyone else from the 1940s years, much less the 1943 class specifically. Maybe it’ll come to me later, so let’s continue with the questions. Who is the person that inspired Finny?”

I gave another chuckle. “Phineas, of course.” He was clearly a bit confused here, as he raised his left brow and gave me a curious look.

“But who is the real person behind Phineas?” Todd inquired again. “You gave most of the characters’ last names, but not Finny’s.”

With a short laugh, I commented. “I didn’t realize that I never mentioned Finny’s last name, he’s always been so distinct that someone not knowing who I was talking about just seemed wrong. Anyways, Finny is based off, well, Finny. His full name is Phineas Pell.” Todd went silent for a minute so I looked over at his face; it was filled with shock. I guess that was a big surprise.

Upon recovering from this Todd inquired incredulously, “The Olympic Gold Medalist in hockey?”

“Aey-uh,” I began as an homage to Finny, “We talk nearly every day.”

“That’s quite the bombshell to drop, Mr. Forrester. However, I now know who the last interviewee was– one of my co-hosts interviewed him right after the Olympics. Anyways, did any of your friends know that you wrote this with their real names?” Todd asked to get the interview rolling again.

“Most were vaguely aware, although many did not know the plot of the novel, with the exception– ironically enough– being Finny. He had a hand in making sure I did the characterization of pretty much everyone properly. I was not the most attentive person towards my peers back in school,” I explained, slightly embarrassed. After all, I am a psychologist these days; my job is paying attention to other people and their emotions.

“Well, Mr. Forrester,” Todd began again, signaling that the interview time was up, “thank you for providing us some insight into your most popular work. To all the students, let us know if you would like to hear him return to the interview table in the future. For now, let us listen to "Ticket to Ride” by everyone’s favorite British band, the Beatles!” 

Todd then pressed a few buttons on the panel. From the window to the waiting room, I could see the light from the “On Air” sign turn off. “Ticket to Ride” then began to play faintly from the speakers. We both turned our microphones away before Todd turned to face me.

“Again, Mr. Forrester, thank you for the interview. You know the way out of the building, and I need to stay and make sure the music is played properly. We will send you a letter if we want you back for another interview,” Todd told me with a smile. I gave him one in return as I stood up and headed toward the door.

“Thank you for the interview, Todd. I hope to see you again in the future,” I replied. When I walked out of the building, I gave a long sigh of relief. The interview was nowhere near as bad as I had assumed it would be. I got into the Ford Mustang convertible that Finny had convinced me to buy; excited to return home and tell him all about my latest adventure with my new-found fame.

Cross posted links:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63999970

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14453573/1/A-Separate-Interview

https://www.wattpad.com/story/391791722-a-separate-interview

[abbyindenhaag]

A Midwinter Night’s Dream

You know how when you watch a play you’re kind of taken out of your normal existence and transported to a totally different world, and then the curtain comes down and you go back to real life, and how that experience is kind of what A Midsummer Night’s Dream is about, especially for Bottom, who is a regular degular dude who one night gets turned into the object of the fairy queen’s love and gets showered with attention and then in the morning wakes up and everything is ordinary again? Well, I felt a lot like Bottom after our stay at the hotel yesterday.

Let me back up. We left Tokyo on a Shinkansen (bullet train) and got off half an hour later at Odawara station, a kind of smallish little city that might be called a suburb of Tokyo, at a stretch. We got lunch at a fried cutlet place that mostly sold cuts of pork that were indistinguishable to me (I had the one chicken dish). That was fun, firstly because Bart was instructed to crush his own sesame paste to combine with ??? sauce to make a dipping sauce for his pork, secondly because I was able to complete my whole order in Japanese because I knew both the word for “fried chicken” and the word for “please”, and thirdly because a whole bevy of suited men came in for lunch and one of them gave a gift to the hostess and leaned into the kitchen to say hi to the chef and that made it feel local and cool.

Our next destination was Hakone national park, where the Done Thing is to take various modes of transportation in a big circle to see various museums and other sights. Our travel agents had told us that we could take a sightseeing bus to the park, but had not given us any other information. It turned out that, shockingly, more than one distinct bus route leaves from Odawara station each day, and in fact there were even multiple heading to Hakone, so it fell to us to figure out which bus to get on. With a stop at the tourism board, who directed us to the bus information window, and the help of Google translate, we obtained an English language bus route map and were able to identify the bus route we wanted… only to find that we were conveniently in the one-hour lunch break window for a bus that usually leaves every half hour. Cool cool cool.

Chance fell against us again when we arrived at our stop and found that the next departure for the sightseeing boat we wanted to take was in another 45 minutes. Sigh. It being fairly blustery and cold by the lake, we wanted a nice place to sit for the wait, but it being the off-season not a lot was open. We ended up taking refuge, and our tea, in a small cafe that smelled strongly of curry.

Eventually we did board the sightseeing boat, and even though it was totally cheesy and had a completely implausible arrangement of fake sails, we had a lovely view across the lake, which became lovelier when Mount Fuji came into view. I had actually briefly seen Fuji-San from the train window on the way to Odawara, but the view had been mostly interrupted by telephone poles, bridge spans, and other intervening structures. In both cases, though, I had the experience of looking up and seeing something huge and white and eye-catching that is impressive even before you realize it’s famous. I think that’s one thing I especially liked about Mount Fuji: I had not come to Japan thinking this is a super important thing to do, so I was not prepared to be star-struck, but I was star-struck anyway, and that’s how I understood why Mount Fuji is so popular and well-documented by Japanese artists. I don’t know if I can put it into words, but I think it’s the combination of the elegance of the volcanic symmetry, the imperiousness of the massive size, and the stillness that the size gives it which makes it seem kind of above our human concerns. Also, I will say that pictures don’t really capture a tenth of the experience. In pictures, it can often look like a blurry cloud, especially because there are typically clouds obscuring the top, but in person you can see from the ridges and other details that it is a real mountain, for real.

I hadn’t really been clear on how big it actually is, but that became more clear as we progressed on our gondola ride uphill (upmountain?) from the lake. It kind of reminded me of the Christmas tree in the Nutcracker, where it starts out large and beautiful and then it grows and you see more and more of its base and it becomes more and more impressive. That’s what it was like progressing up and seeing more and more of the volcano base revealing itself. So cool.

See, the pictures really don’t do it justice at all. But you can tell from my face how cool it was.

We hustled back down the mountain on the last gondola car out of Dodge, and caught another bus to our hotel. And this is where the dream part starts, because we got off the bus in a kind of ordinary looking small hamlet — the bus stop was across the road from a family mart (convenience store) and its parking lot, not particularly scenic — and walked for 10 minutes up a steep hill before arriving at an oasis of a luxury hotel. The lobby was actually so “relaxing” it was almost creepy — there was a group of people diligently and silently making some kind of artwork in a library/craft space, accompanied by only us and the receptionist and the sound of running water from an indoor fountain. The staff were exceedingly polite, as well, even more so than the typical Japanese standard. But our room itself was so, so nice — huge and beautifully minimalistically decorated in the Japanese style. And it came with customized sizes of robes and pajamas, which was cool.

We were quite unprepared for the elaborate multi-course dinner that was inflicted on us, though we tried our best. It was just too sophisticated. You can see the menu below. The best thing, or rather the thing we thought tasted best and was most interesting, was the smoked apple in the first course, which tasted like you were eating an apple and inhaling a campfire simultaneously. I tried to take a bite of everything but was not willing to touch the sea cucumber or the raw shrimp sashimi. Many other delicacies walked the fine line of lacking flavor and possessing a totally unappealing texture. We both felt somewhat bad, obviously, that we were rejecting such carefully prepared items that were very obviously delicacies, but what can you do. We did get enough to eat in the end. And at least we had gone in with our eyes open (and our stomachs full of fried food), unlike the online reviewers Bart found who had complained that their three-year-olds didn’t like any of the food. No shit.

Anyway, after the dinner we were free to take full advantage of the private onsen, which doesn’t get a picture because a pool in the dark isn’t that photogenic. But it was the perfect temperature, smelled kind of mineral-y because it was fed by actual volcanic hot springs, and looked out onto a mountain and a slightly starry night sky. And then we slept in this amazing bed:

The morning greeted us with pink hues on the mountaintop outside our window, and then we struggled through another elaborate and fish-forward breakfast before zipping out to catch our 8:47am bus (again, time table figured out on our own, no thanks to the travel agents.) Walking down the hill in the morning chill, we couldn’t help thinking to ourselves, “did that really happen?”