#sorry i enjoy being a tryhard at everything i do

[shi0n]

having a decent salary and thus being able to spend more money on food has me obsessing over the idea of cooking for other people

[thebittercorvus]

"Try?" The man asked, with just the faintest shadow of mockery covering his voice. "Look at you. Not very threatening, are you?"

"I can cut up a bitch," he spits angrily.

The man in front of him responds to Michael. If asked, Ryan wouldn't be able to confirm if that's his real name or not, but that's always been the deal with this people. In this situation, it doesn't really matter, however. He could be called by every other name and the situation wouldn't change in the slightless. A pig by any other name and all that.

Being abducted really was not part of his list for the week and yet there he fucking was. This is going to throw his schedule off.

"I'd love to see you try, really," he replies. His smile is familiar, which on its own is already rather annoying. Ryan really tries not to think too hard about it. "I'd love to see his work at play. Tell me, Ryan, how has my dear brother trained you?"

At that point, somebody else would've wondered about the exact steps in life one would need to take in order to reach this outcome. Not him. Not really. He knew exactly when everything went wrong.

It goes like this.

One day, dear father leaves and suddenly you have to carry on with the business. Not leave in a dramatic manner, the old man was still alive somewhere, probably enjoying life in retirement. Good for him. Sorta. He's never been close to his father, or anybody in his family really, so it's not like he can summon that many positive thoughts about them. His father left him with several things to work with that he didn't understood. His half-sister materialized out of thin air and probably was taking over everything now that he was suddenly gone. His mom was... probably also alive somewhere, working harder than the devil to ensure absolutely no-one figured out they were related.

It goes like that and it really is that fucking complicated.

So really, that one attempted assassination that ended up with him just-- what, hiring the dude that tried to kill him? Yeah, that right there is the easiest part of how things got like... this.

He should've known better than to hire a failed assassin. They never come alone.

In his defense, the man was kinda cute. Completely oblivious to his feelings too. That was alright, they had time to work on that. Probably. Hopefully. Eventually.

Yeah.

"Sorry, completely spaced out right there," he replies, laying back on his chair, at ease. "What were you saying again bitchboy?"

The man stared back, unsurprised. "Really."

"Are you surprised? I mean, how hard was it for you to find me and abduct me. How long it took, like, an hour of planning maybe? I'm not that much of a hotshot myself man, seriously, no need to be such a tryhard. You could've offered me a good handj-"

"Aaaand I'm going to stop you right there," Michael interrupted his ramblings just as he was about to get very specific. Well, he's the one missing out. Now he looks mortified but really, Ryan was just about to get hilarious. "See, this is the part in which I begin to regret having to do this again."

"Oh, we're there already? Good, the handcuffs are way overkill man, I--" The click of a gun interrupts him. Michael is pointing at his forehead again. Well, that's rude. "Seriously."

"Tell me where Angelo is, and we'll part ways in peace."

He clicks his tongue, loudly. "This is not very taki taki rumba of you."

He sees his eyebrow twitch. Like, visibly. Amazing. "Whatever the hell does that even means?!"

Vaguely, in the distance, he could swear. He hears a body hit the floor. A bit like the song, except this time it's even more hilarious, because he gets to confuse his presumably-soon-to-be-brother-in-law-if-his-bodyguard-ever-gets-the-clue even further.

Which he does. Of course he does. Angelo taught him one very important thing and that is to always wipe down his dishes with a paper towel before cleaning them, that way he'll save soap and water.

The second most important thing is that deceiving somebody is simply making them pay attention to the thing they want to pay attention too. The third most important thing would be that it's always a good moment to remind people that they just lost The Game but that sort of comes from himself.

"Oh, y'know the song, it goes like..." he begins, pretending he's forgotten about the song that he's been listening to, daily, for a couple months now. He hears a second body drop. There were only three guards by the door. "Mmh, y'know what? I think I just forgot."

"What?"

"Instead, wouldn't you hear my sad woes on how I want somebody, want them bad, want them to write me a bad rom-"

Michael looks at him like he was just forced to eat a sour lemon whole. "Oh come on, I know that song."

On his side, Ryan hears the last body drop. It's a good thing, really, that Michael is so focused in him and his nonsense right about now. Makes it all a lot more easier. And funnier. At least inside his head. It's like he's inside a running gag now, he's always wanted to be part of something like that, and maybe also to get a surprise birthday party.

Where was he? Oh, right, getting threatened.

"Well, of course you know the song! It's a classic!" He insists, acting as if he can't notice the very obvious figure stalking the shadows of the room. Michael might as well be stupid, blind and-- hey now that's a Shakira song. And also, is Michael really that confused by the song Taki Taki? "Admittedly not as much as a classic as Toxic but--"

"I mean, I personally prefer Bad Romance--"

"And I respect that you make bad choices for yourself, however--"

And so, the click of a gun interrupts them both. This time, coming not from Michael's, but from the hands of someone walking from the shadows.

He can't help but smile, when Michael rolls his eyes so far his own skull they might just get stuck like that.

Serves him right.

"I believe," he hears a somber timber. Quite the familiar one, too, "You have something of mine. Please return him to me."

Something of mine? He thinks, trying not to get excited. Boy oh boy, he's definitely not going to forget about that one any time soon!

"Well, there you are, jackass," Michael replies, finally pointing the gun away. This time towards the man in the shadows. The one who just called him his. Yeah that one. Sexy motherfucker. Ryan is going to give him a salary raise. "I only had to abduct your little boss over here for you to show your grim mug around."

"Told you it was way overkill," Ryan whistles, very much amused.

"You shut up! Our conversation isn't over yet! And you!" Michael quickly loses interest in him, focusing instead on his brother who finally decided to step forward and let himself be seen. They look nearly identical, but Angelo's nose has been broken a few times. "Do I really need to take this kind of measures to make you come to the annual family dinner?"

Angelo lifts one single eyebrow as his answer. And honestly? Yeah, same.

"Fine. Fine! Whatever! Listen just-- just make sure you come, alright? Bring him if you want to--"

"Rude," Ryan interrupts again.

Michael ignores him for the most part. "Just... Just be there, yeah?"

And so, the two of them finally put their guns back in their places. And Ryan, who only now had begun to figure out that he ended up in a hostage situation just so that his bodyguard and his brother could have a chat-- talk about difficult families, geez-- rattled his handcuffs rather obnoxiously.

Eventually they decide to stop looking at each other eyes spitefully, and Michael walks outside to deal with whatever mess his younger brother left behind. Angelo however, finally turns around to see him.

"Sorry," Angelo speaks, and kneels in front of Ryan. The one with the keys is Michael, but a lock has never stopped him, which adds on to the 'this man is so hot I am going to backflip into the Sun' list. Also, his leather gloves. He's wearing them right now, actually.

"Did you really came prepared to have to kill somebody?" He asks with a teasing tone. "I knew it was your brother. He'd know better."

"Well, thanks for the credit! You could have made it easier!" He hears Michael say from the hallway. He's waking up the guards.

Angelo scowls. Actually fully scowls, boy he's pissed. "Of course I was prepared to have to kill somebody. I thought you were being targeted, I left to go get you that seasonal coffee you like and when I returned your phone was on the ground and you were nowhere to be seen." Confused, Ryan searched through his pockets, for the first time in the, what, entire two hours he was held hostage? Yeah there was no phone in there. Angelo probably has it in his Jeep. Now he's looking at him intently, like there's something in his face that's really bothering him. "Somebody here should definitely make an effort not to harm their hostages!"

"Well, he was resisting!"

"That's what you're supposed to do when you get abducted, Michael!" Ryan calls out. "Also, last time I got inside your car willingly, you took me to meet the family. Your mom is just insane!"

"Rude! She's a sweetheart!"

"Mother is kind of insane, Michael," Angelo confirms. "And you should not have taken him to see her."

At last Michael walks inside the room again. Behind him there's three men looking mighty confused, although he can see at least one of them seeing the situation and just shaking his head, clearly used to it already and pretty much over it.

"Shouldn't have? Well, how were we supposed to meet your husband? You would've never introduced him to us otherwise!" Wait what. "I can't believe you went and got married behind our backs! We didn't even know you had a boyfriend to begin with!" Wait just a damn second!

"Married?!" Ryan asks, a mix of confusion and disbelief and maybe just the tiniest hint of God Don't I Fucking Wish if you were to pay attention, which none of these men were doing.

At which Michael finally looks at him. "You two are like. Super bad at hiding it, if that's what you're trying. The family isn't even against it, they were looking for a peaceful takeover after all, nobody considered marriage but surely it would've come up eventually--"

"Michael would you shut the fuck up already, I beg you," Angelo mutters between clenched teeth. His hands are on his face and Ryan knows he's just about to kick his brother. He also looks like he just aged like ten years from this conversation only. "Ryan and I are not even dating, I really just work for him."

"Yeah, for sure," Michael laughs. And then the two of them just stare at the man, wishing they could throw daggers through their eyes. Eventually he takes the hint. "Wait, really?!"

"Angelo I'm done here, could you drive me to the coffee shop again? I'm getting that coffee, I feel like I earned it now," Ryan declares, getting up swiftly and stretching for a bit before walking out of the room, leaving a very confused Michael behind. Serves him right. How dare he read his intentions out loud!

Angelo follows, just one step behind. He always does.

***

"I apologize," he hears him say as they walk across the park. Ryan got himself his coffee, and bought for Angelo a strawberry shortcake. Looking at the mountain of a man you'd never guess he has a massive sweet tooth, but he does. He also likes tortoises a lot, and walks around the house wearing fluffy pink bunny socks.

Ryan is over the moon with him.

"What for?" He asks.

"My family... and their inappropriate ideas about the two of us," Angelo replies. So that's where this is going. "You must have been uncomfortable."

"Not really," he replies quietly, looking at his companio's reactions very carefully. "Were you?"

"... No."

And they leave it at that.

"You ought to be more careful," he hears Angelo say after a while. "A lot of people out there are looking for me. Lesser men would kill you over such a thing."

"They could certainly try to," Ryan replies. "That's what you're here for, aren't you? My knight in shiny armor."

"I'm hardly a knight."

"I'm also hardly a king," he replies. "And yet, in front of me, don't you always kneel? I feel like that's something."

Eventually the man will get the clue.

Writing Prompt #2271

"Lesser men would kill you over such a thing."

"They could certainly try to."

[manias-wordcount]

Edward X Streamer Reader more specifically new experiences he has while dating a gamer. Like hearing her panic while playing Minecraft or Among Us. Raging when playing Uno, laughing and saying weird shit when playing cards against humanity, or cheering when getting a win. How the reader slowly gets Edward into gaming and playing games together with pizza and snacks.

Streamer S/o HCs! (Edward Elric)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗶. 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗼 𝗰𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗰𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗯𝗼𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗜'𝗺 𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

(fyi this is a college au, sorry im sorry. Im in love with the ask and im running with it.)

Ed is definitely a big academic so he didn’t really get the hype around watching or dedicating your life to gaming

After dating and being with you for a little bit, he is starting to understand more!

Sometimes he might be reading a book or doing homework in the same room as you while you're streaming

He’ll find it cute when you make up little stories or get really into a game

Plus he has a good angle to watch you and your screen as you have fun :]

He’ll always be caught off guard when youre scared by something or scream 

And he won’t really understand how you got too into the game not to notice at the time

But overall, he finds enjoyment more so in watching you and will eventually ask to join!

He just likes seeing you happy and it’s another way to spend time with you :]]]]

Okay but no i gotta say

Sometimes he makes appearances on stream. SOMETIMES

But when he does? chat goes crazy.

If they see him briefly behind you in your face cam? The simps start to spam

If they just hear his voice off camera? The simps start to spam

If (heaven forbid) you invite him to show his face on camera and interact?

Congrats. You broke every person tuning into your stream

Okay but enough about that, let’s talk about Ed finally gaming

So, of course, you introduce him to some of your favs but also the party games too

For someone who doesn’t sell his soul to Nintendo, he’s pretty good at Smash Bros

And kinda an asshole imposter in Among Us too

But I know he’ll be so cute to play Minecraft with as he explores everything!

Until he starts talking about chemical breakdowns and the science behind everything.

But I’d imagine he enjoys anything that allows the two of you to be close

ESPECIALLY anything that allows you two to just cuddle and eat snacks and lounge on the couch together :]]]

Probably not the biggest fan of single-player games unless one of you is back seating for that reason

But for some weird reason i feel like he would love Fire Emblem WHAHAHAH

Might enjoy Skyrim or Dark souls because he’s a tryhard 

But i think he might have an affinity for things like JRPGs or even deep story games

But overall? I think he’ll get into gaming just because he sees how happy it makes you <3

[gasolinepeach]

Fix Me

(This is going to be the last time im reposing this. im so sorry. I can’t stand the side blog limitations...)

Sevika x reader

Being alone in the streets of the undercity is hard. Often than not, people tend to end up somewhere in the dumpster, dead. That’s the secret of how Sevika could survive this long despite getting her ass handed to her pretty often. True strength isn’t all about doing it all alone but doing it right.

Well, this is one of those days. She was enjoying a game of cards not so far away from the Last Drop. Suddenly, everything fucking went to shit in a matter of seconds and her cheek has a painful taste of a crazy bitch’s knee. Oh, she thought it was another vindictive tryhard she probably crossed sometime in the past—but when her eyes finally got a chance to observe the attacker all the alarm in Sevika’s head went off. It was her, Silco was wrong—Vi isn’t dead.

It was one hell of a fight. She would have won if not for the random sniper, doing what the sniper did best and rendered her completely useless in one shot. Sevika lost that fight and she was fucking salty alright but told herself to swallow her pride and seek help where she would be safe.

The dark-haired brute is limping her from one dark alleyway to another. The city of Zaun after dark where the light isn’t shining through is a game of deadly labyrinth that many use faith as their ultimate navigation. But that isn’t Sevika—she knows her place through and through. So the woman goes left and enters the small, damping street corridor—turns right at the dead-end where the shady pharmaceutical shop is at then walks straight to the end; a single shop emitting a small dying light of the ancient neon sign that said ‘mechanic’

She doesn’t even know your name. Best to keep it that way, Sevika knows attachment will only bring trouble in the Undercity. Not knowing the name is the first rule of keeping herself at arm’s length and disassociating. With all the strength she lost in the fight, the heavy wooden door feels like solid concrete. She manages but not without using her entire body as leverage and almost trips over when the door moves.

The shop is a claustrophobic nightmare—it probably is not THAT small but with all the equipment, spare parts, and broken machinery commissions, this place feels like it has the size of a coffin. And you are there, as Sevika expected, manning the shop still behind the counter even now that midnight has passed 30 minutes ago. You’re tinkering on something—a motherboard-looking thingy but Sevika suspected that isn’t really a job.

There are only two sources of light. The oil lamp on the counter next to you and a firelights illuminator on the wall—neither of those is sufficient enough to brighten this room entirely so both of you exist in a permanent state of being partially visible. Despite all that, Sevika trusts you. You did your job just fine with or without light.

“ Rough night?” Finally, you notice her fatigue figure trying hard not to fall over. The larger woman grabs the nearest chair, tosses whatever junks occupied it then sits in front of the counter—directly at you. You sigh, as you already spotted the damaged arm prosthetic right away. That’s not the main concern, it’s actually all the bruises and wounds that look very fresh and unattended.

“ Vodka or Whiskey?” You ask the injured woman—she looks at you for a brief moment and snorts

“ Bartending is your second job now? Whiskey,”

“ It helps with the pain. You seem to need it,”

“ I can tolerate it just fine. Look, not here for medical advice. Do what you did best,” you roll your eyes, Sevika growls a little as she says that. You hand her a shot and she finishes it immediately after.

“ Didn’t take a degree in medicine from the Topside to know that you need a medic right now, not a mechanic,” you retorted back in a low voice—in hope that maybe you could convince this blockhead brute that she has the wrong priority.

The woman only gives you a tired look, she looks away from you as the cigarette is being pulled from her pocket. For a minute, Sevika is fishing inside her pocket for the lighter but nothing is there—right, she’s fucking lost it. You look at the whole, silently sigh—the smart thing to do is probably to turn her away and tell her to go seek a medic instead, tell her that the shop will be closed soon, and postpone it to tomorrow. You should have, ‘cept you don’t—you go to the storage room behind and come back with a lighter and a cigarette of your own. The cigarette on your mouth is lit and the flickering fire on its end is then shared with Sevika.

“ Didn’t know you smoke,” the brute states

“ Everybody smokes in the undercity,”

Sevika doesn’t say anything back, she releases the toxic fume and simply just closes her eyes. You know in an instant that this woman will never leave the shop unless her request is fulfilled and you have no choice on that matter.

“ Let me see the damage,” you walk out of the counter, avoiding piles and piles of broken gadgets and finished one then stop right beside her. Sevika doesn’t say anything but simply lifts up her arm for the mechanic.

“ That’s…not a lot of damage actually, just…she needs her ventilation system replaced, the current one meltdown like cheese now. Oh, and the obvious—Shimmer storage holder was gone, that one needs a new built-up,”

“ How long will it take for it to go back to full capacity,” Sevika doesn’t seem to be very fond of the sounds of that—she knows it would take time but she’s very impatient when it comes to her body parts.

“ 3 days, give or take,”

“ You can do better than that,” the bruised right-hand woman grunts in frustration.

“ I could make it 2 days and a half, anything faster than that is impossible,” you said back in an equally annoyed expression.

“ fair enough,”

You go back to the small compartment behind the counter to gather any material and tools necessary for the task. While you are inside the storage and Sevika just simply sits there and waits—you can help but talk.

“ You’re still working for Silco,” your tone is casual, a little bit concerned but non-judgmental. Sevika doesn’t answer at first but then decides to loosen her mouth.

“ Everybody does, even you—directly or indirectly, that’s another story,”

“ Can’t deny that logic, I’m fixing his number two right now—if that’s not support, don’t know what is,”

[astridthevalkyrie]

summer rain: chapter 2

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Okay, okay, so, you’d prided yourself on your plan. Getting the lieutenant himself to train you personally so you could learn his weaknesses and use his own tricks to one day take him down and humiliate him in front of everyone - it’s convoluted, but it’s a good idea. It’ll take a while, but it’ll work if you stay dedicated. Right? Right.

But you hadn’t actually expected him to agree. And so easily at that. He’d given you a quick look over as though he was scanning for some potential scheme, and then he’d readily said he would train you, which not only shocked you, it shocked both Captain Erwin and the woman who you learned was Lieutenant Hange Zoe. If his friends were surprised, then this must be out of character of him. You can’t imagine why he possibly would willingly take you under his wing.

Maybe...maybe the harsh treatment was some twisted way of looking out for you. A small bit of guilt blooms in your chest at the thought, but you quickly squash it down. There are other ways to prepare someone for their future than by publicly embarrassing and physically harassing them. A simple hey, focus up, cadet would have sufficed. Not that you’d have listened, but he doesn’t know that.

Yeah, he’s just a dick. He probably has his own messed up reasons to be doing this. You have to mentally prepare yourself for whatever cruel and unusual punishment he’ll be inflicting upon you.

His instructions ring through your head as you go to bed that night.

“Be at the grounds at 4 AM, sharp. Don’t be late.”

However, that’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s bad enough that you have to adjust your sleep schedule to wake up at 8 AM instead of 11 AM since they don’t allow for beauty sleep at the Training Corp (how are you supposed to maintain your flawless skin?), but now he expects you to be up and out of bed four whole hours than everyone else? No one is expected to be up at that time. Not even him. People are sleeping at 4 AM. No, you’re absolutely not going to be getting up just to train with a grouchy, perverted midget, thanks very much. If he was serious when he gave you those instructions, he’s going to have to deal with someone who values their shut-eye time. Sorry not sorry, Lieutenant. Your dreams are pleasant that night, letting you visit the market on the edge of Stohess which always smelled of fresh fruits and exotic perfume.

You’re content with your decision until a fucking wave crashes on you and brutally brings you back to the world of the living.

With a heaving gasp, you sit up straight in a coughing frenzy, spitting up water. Your hair is soaked, along with your nightgown. Fat droplets run down your face and bite into your cheeks. It’s cold.

“Be quiet,” Lieutenant Levi mutters casually, as though he didn’t just dump a bucket of water on you, “you’ll wake up the others.”

You gape at him incredulously, bringing your hands up to frantically wipe water off your face. For a second, you forget all formalities and you forget he ranks far higher than you, or perhaps you just don’t care, and you splutter out what you’ve been wondering since the moment you met him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

For someone who seems to enjoy teaching you discipline, he never actually tells you off for these comments. Instead of chiding you for being rude, he says in a snippy tone, “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Get up, or I’ll refill the bucket.”

You don’t need any further encouragement. You throw off the thin and wet blanket and stand up, now fully awake. He rolls his eyes when he sees how silky your nightgown is - yeah, he damn well should feel bad for soaking such an expensive piece of fabric, the asshole. It’s worth more than that stupid tacky cravat he’s always sporting, that’s for sure.

Fortunately, no one else has woken up. Thank Maria, you’re not sure you could stomach someone seeing Lieutenant Levi demeaning you yet again. You shakily grab your clothes and uniform, and then turn to him. He raises a brow.

“Some privacy would be appreciated, sir.” You cross your arms over your chest protectively.

He scoffs pointedly, as though to tell you he’d have to be absolutely obtuse to want to see you naked, to which you only take a little offense. He gives you orders to hurry the fuck up and then leaves the barracks. You’re tempted to take your sweet time changing, but you really, really don’t want to risk getting soaked again. You just wish that you had time to dry your hair - the morning air outside is bound to be freezing. Sighing, you tie it up tightly, mourning the days you could let your precious tresses fly freely. Stupid military, stupid titans, stupid lieutenant. You dislike all of them greatly. In that order.

When you join him outside, he’s leaning against a tree, looking at you dully.

“Managed to have a tea party before you got down here, (L/N)? Or have you always walked at the speed of a snail?”

Holy hells help you, this is going to be a long day.

You salute, and he lets out a small tch, walking up to you and sizing you up. You tense up immediately, you wouldn’t put it past him to knock you down again for the heinous crime of making him wait.

“This is how this is going to work, Cadet.” He stands right in front of you and you force yourself not to look in his eyes, choosing to look at the pretty leaves on the birch tree behind him. “Every morning, from 4 AM to 6 AM, you’re here, and you’re doing whatever the hell I tell you to.” Probably allowing him to punch you in the face repeatedly. “Then you go back, get two more hours of sleep so that you don’t look like shit at breakfast.” It’ll take more than the likes of him to get you to look like shit, but sure, he can flatter himself. “If I’m on an expedition or not here for some other reason, you do a basic routine regardless.” Right, like he’ll know if you skip out. Nice try. “I might have you do other bits of training at another part of the day sometimes, but for the most part, we’ll be doing the brunt of it in the morning so it doesn’t interfere with your classes and shit.” Okay, that’s fair, and you can’t find a complaint with it no matter how hard you try. “Questions?”

You open your mouth, but he doesn’t give you a chance to actually ask anything before barking out an order. “Twenty-four laps around the grounds, now.”

Twenty-four? Okay, okay, you can do this, you knew what you were signing up for. He’s going to be harsh. He’s going to wear you out. You’re not going to break. Even if it’s the crack of dawn and he’s certifiably insane.

When you start running, his eyes follow you. You briefly wonder how he’s going to keep himself entertained throughout this, but then you remember that he’s cruel and terrible, and he’ll be entertained plenty watching you suffer. Besides, you have other things to focus on besides how much fun he’s having.

The maximum amount of laps Grumman has had you run so far is twelve, and that was with everyone else, so all the cadets could feed off each other’s energy and boost morale. Right now, there’s no one with you, no one to complain to, no one to hide behind so you can spend a few seconds walking instead of running. Oh, and it’s way too early. Have you mentioned that it’s way too early?

Half way through the fifteenth lap, you drop down on your knees and start panting. You’re tired. You want to go back to sleep. Screw your plan. Screw getting revenge.

“Oi!” The lieutenant calls out from his cozy spot under the birch tree. “I didn’t say you could take a nap!”

Most all all, screw him.

You hear him approaching, but you can’t bring yourself to get up. The grass is damp against your fingers, looking like a nice and cool spot to just lie down and rest your head for a few seconds. Sure, not as nice as a regular feathery pillow, but -

He kicks you on the side. It’s not that hard, but you still hiss in pain.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him -

“Get up,” he snaps, impatient. “You’ve got nine more to go.”

Everything about him is grating, from his voice to his polished shoes to his gorgeous grey eyes. How you wish you could shut him up.

Clearly not someone who enjoys waiting, he yanks you up by your arm, letting out another tch at your murderous expression. He applies just the slightest pressure against your skin, before speaking in a tone that makes it clear he’s getting fed up.

“You’re the one who wanted to be trained. If you can’t handle a few laps, then forget about getting into the top ten.”

“I don’t want to get into the top ten,” you huff, writhing in an attempt to break free of his grasp to no avail. Why does everyone and their mother assume you’re some tryhard goody two shoes? “And even if I did, running these laps isn’t gonna get me there. So can we just leave it at fifteen?”

Lieutenant Levi pulls you in closer, until you’re nearly nose to nose with him. Your eyes widen as he tightens his hold on you, and you despise that your heart beats faster for whatever godforsaken reason. Unwillingly, you think about what it would actually feel like to be wrapped up in his arms, to have his hands on your waist, to have his lips on your -

Fuck fuck fuck. Wrong and fucked up line of thought. Focus.

“You seem to think we’re collaborating here, (L/N). Let me make it clear,” he drawls lazily, “we’re not. You’ll do what I say, no questions asked.”

“I’m going to ask questions, sir. Blind obedience isn’t good for anyone.”

“I think it’s less to do with blind obedience, and more with you wanting to be a pain in the ass.”

“Very astute of you,” you say without thinking, and his shoulders move in what might have been a laugh, but it happens so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.

“Finish the laps,” he orders, letting go of you and jerking his head, telling you to hop to it.

You glare petulantly, but start running anyways. What he doesn’t realize is he just let you have a break, no matter how short it might have been, and that’s exactly what you needed. Not so clever, this one. You take the small win and feel triumphant, even though you still have to run nine more laps and your hair is still wet and it’s still a forbidden hour for anyone to be awake at.

Once the laps are done, Lieutenant Levi allows no further time for relaxation before ordering you into thirty push-ups, which is just thirty more than your preferred amount of push-ups. The amount of fucking delight he takes in putting his foot on your back, making it just a bit harder for you to get up each time, is unbelievable. He’s a damn sadist, who thrills in your pain.

After the push-ups are finished, you have to do squats. Once the squats are finished, you move on to crunches. Then around five million side kicks, or at least that’s what it feels like. Then forward lunges. Then tricep extensions against the tree. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

How fucking long is an hour anyway?

By the time the lieutenant finally tosses you a flask of water - he throws it so quickly it almost hits your face - you’re winded, out of breath, and dizzy. Nothing hurts per se, but your body is desperately begging for you to stop, to take a break, to just sit down for a single second. You know that any second now, you’ll be back in bed, and the only obstacle to that destination besides the fear that you might collapse halfway there is this asshole of a midget in front of you. You technically can’t leave until he dismisses you, a rule that you despise with all your being.

You think that dismissal is coming when he takes the flask back and then gives you another demand.

“Ten calf raises. Just a test run. I’ll see if I can put it into your routine.”

You look at him disbelievingly for two reasons - one, because he’s actually continuing this torture and two, he’s assuming you know what the hell calf raises are.

He sighs exasperatedly and then demonstrates. It seems simple enough, it’s just standing on your tippy toes, spreading your feet out, repeating the action, spreading them out even more, and then doing it again. Three angles, just a bit of balance for a few seconds.

At this point, you’ll do whatever it takes to go back to bed.

So you start. You do three (there’s three angles, so technically nine, but who’s counting? certainly not you) and everything’s fine.

The fourth set leaves you a bit sore, but whatever.

The fifth set hurts.

The sixth set stings like a bitch.

After the seventh, you cry out in pain. It’s quiet, but mortifying.

Great, just great. The whole point of this was to pick up on his weaknesses, and here you’ve accidentally exposed your own. You freeze completely, eyes on the ground, waiting for the lieutenant to say something about how weak you’re acting.

But he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too nervous to look at him in case he catches the embarrassment playing out on your face.

Eight. Your calves are killing you, but you’re not going to cry out again. Ever.

Nine. Holy shit. Are you on fire? You think you’re on fire.

One more. You can do this. You’ve done all the others.

“Hey,” a sharp voice cuts through the air, but you pay him no mind.

You clench your fists, muster up all your strength, and push yourself up as hard as you can.

And immediately regret it.

Your legs buckle under you, and you stumble with a yelp. You didn’t mean to. It just hurt so bad, but now you’re going to be on your knees again -

Up until now, you’d seen how fast Lieutenant Levi could move because he was constantly throwing you around like a child would throw around its favorite toy. When you feel a breeze against your skin, your mind is thrown into an alarmed state for a fraction of a second. He’s coming at you, to what? Push you? You’re already falling down, so nice try, jerk, but -

It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s caught you.

With his arms hooked under yours, he lets you put your weight on him, ignoring your astonished expression. Even the blunt pain is pushed aside as you take in the fact that he stopped you from falling. Apparently you can only be knocked down when he decides you can. For the life of you, you truly cannot figure out just what this man’s deal is.

“Well, then,” Levi murmurs against your ear, “we’ll leave that one out from now on.”

____________________

Millie informs you that you look like shit over breakfast, and you tell her to kindly fuck off.

____________________

These lovely morning meetings become routine. Since you’re waking up earlier, you try your best to go to sleep earlier too, but you’re a night owl who can’t be caged, so the operation isn’t really successful there.

Instead, you try to rest any second you can during the day. While Millie, Stephen and Ricky are reading over their notes under the same birch tree that you and Lieutenant Levi meet at, you’re lying on the grass with an arm thrown over your eyes. It’s not like you need to study that hard - one doesn’t need whole hours to learn that titans are dangerous.

Besides, your arms are sore from your push-ups this morning. You usually don’t do the same thing twice in a row, apparently the lieutenant likes to switch things up. Which is just fine with you, of course, you’ve never been a fan of the same old thing every day; you joined the military to get away from the feeling that all your days were stationary and felt the same. And the whole dead dad thing, but that’s kinda secondary.

“Try putting ice on it,” Stephen offers helpfully, the only one of the three to take your complaining in stride.

“Try putting a gag in your mouth,” Millie adds.

“Try taking the stick out of your ass,” you tell her pointedly before offering a grateful smile to Stephen.

“Have you considered asking yourself if this is worth it?” Ricky tosses his notes aside and nudges your head with his knee. “Your super duper revenge plan -”

“It’s a mega super duper revenge plan.”

“Yeah, that. Is it worth exhausting yourself like this?”

Surprisingly, Stephen is the one who speaks up. “I don’t think it’s right for a superior to disrespect his subordinate and get away with it without any repercussions.”

“Look, what he did was...sketchy,” Ricky concedes, “but he’s him, y’know? Some people are good enough to act like that and get away with it.”

“No one’s good enough to act like that. Do you know how hard he runs me into the ground every single day? He’s never satisfied, not until I’m fucking collapsing. The only reason he’s stopped dumping water on me is because he says it’s a waste of resources.” You blow out a puff of air, frustrated. Why does no one understand how not okay the lieutenant’s actions are? “And he never does anything himself. I haven’t picked up any weaknesses. I have to keep going until I find one.”

“That’ll take you your entire time here.”

“So be it,” you say dramatically, before finally sitting up.

You’ll stick to it for however long it takes. There are boundaries that should never be crossed, and Lieutenant Levi’s managed to cross every single one of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a familiar figure. It’s him, of course it’s him. It’s not enough that he disturbs your sleep, no, he has to make his presence known during the day too. Sure, maybe he’s just going about his day and not actively trying to aggravate you, but he’s still in your line of sight and he has such a punchable face.

Maybe Lieutenant Levi senses that he’s being watched, because his head turns and he catches your gaze.

You wave with a sugary smile, acting like you weren’t just fantasizing about punching his face.

Without so much as an acknowledgement, he looks away and keeps walking.

You scoff. Rude fucking midget.

____________________

The best parts of your days are undeniably after hours. Or more specifically, that small period before dinner and bedtime, when there’s nothing required of you, and you can slip away. You like leaving a bit earlier than everyone else, just to enjoy the cool night outside. It’s funny, how there are so many rules and restrictions here at the military, but a girl can still just get up and wander outside at night and no one will look at her strangely. It’s a wonderful feeling, freedom.

You’re just about to begin what’s sure to be a leisurely walk around the grounds when there’s suddenly a vice-like grip on your arm. You gasp, the first instinct to defend yourself. You raise your fist and immediately launch it, only for it to be caught rather easily.

The lieutenant rolls his eyes at your attempt to defend yourself. “I sincerely hope you never get mugged.”

If he followed you out here, that’s frankly quite creepy and he should feel ashamed of himself.

“I hope someone steals your cravat,” you mutter, and the corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “Can you let go? Sir,” you add quickly - it was becoming easier to forget that you had to refer to him properly. “I have a walk to take that doesn’t involve doing push-ups or crunches.”

His eyes are alight with cruel intentions. You hate that you still find them fascinating. “I have a training exercise for you.”

“You’re a few hours early, Lieutenant.” You give him a condescending smile. “See, 4 AM actually isn’t until much much later. It’s okay, I know telling time can be tough.”

His lips purse in displeasure, and you mentally do a small, victorious dance.

“Be that as it may, I recall telling you that your training can take place at any time that I see fit.”

“But,” you protest, stomping your foot childishly, “you also said you didn’t want to interfere with my regular training!”

He makes a point of looking to the right and then to the left and then finally back at you. “I don’t see any drills going on around here. Do you?”

If you say you do, will he let you off? Probably not, he’ll just cart you off to the infirmary and declare you mental.

“Fine,” you mutter with gritted teeth, “what is it now?”

Without answering, he turns and beckons you to follow. Like a good little obedient soldier. You fume silently, walking behind with clenched fists. First he cuts into your rightful nap time, and now into your wonderful walking time. Is there no limit to the amount of serene, private moments he plans to intrude on?

For some reason, the two of you head indoors, towards the rooms and offices. You may just be a dumb cadet, but even you’re pretty certain that none of the exercises are done in here. Is he taking you to his room? Why would he -

Wait.

Your mouth falls open, but your steps don’t falter. This is highly inappropriate. You don’t know what kind of woman Lieutenant Levi takes you to be, but you did not sign up for this. So you ask him to train you and call him sir a few times, and the man thinks you’re all good and willing, does he? That since he’s Humanity’s Strongest, he can have whoever he wants? What an insult to the name of courting. Where he finds the nerve to keep pulling stunts like these, you’ll never know.

Training your ass. This is an indecent night call. And you would never, ever -

Well.

Maybe. In a hot, scandalous kind of way that you would only ever tell Millie about. Not that you’d enjoy it, not with him. It’s more the forbidden aspect that’s attractive. It’s certainly not about the lieutenant, even with his nimble fingers and cold eyes and sharp tongue that you’re sure he could work wonders with - okay so maybe it is about him a little bit.

But it would also be delightful to turn him down. To watch the light leave his eyes (not that it was there in the first place) as you proudly tell him you respect yourself too much to sleep with a man who’s so arrogant and callous. Yeah, that’ll show him.

His fingers, though.

You’re so caught up in your little debate that you almost crash into him when he stops in front of a door. Ah, a private area. The barracks? How many members of his squad does he share a room with? You twitch uncomfortably.

“Here we are.” Even his voice sounds sultry. Or maybe it always sounds like that. Who knows.

“Why are we here, sir?” Your throat feels dry.

He turns and gives you a look that is decidedly not sexy. Rather, it seems like he thinks you’re the most idiotic person he’s ever had the unfortunate pleasure of laying his eyes on.

“You’re going to clean up in here, did you not hear me the first time?”

What?

You’re not sure what feels the most embarrassing. The fact that he’s apparently decided you’re the official Training Corp maid, or that you had actually been so comfortably considering sleeping with him that you tuned out what he was saying.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you frown. “Sir, I mean no offense -” He raises a brow, clearly ready to get offended - “but your, er, sanitary habits are pretty much known to everyone here. I doubt that I’ll be able to make your room sparkle more than it already does.”

Lieutenant Levi scoffs. “Then it’s a good thing this isn’t my room.”

He opens the door and your mouth falls open in horror.

“This is Lieutenant Hange’s lab,” he explains as he steps in, “and before you ask, I’ve already secured her permission for you to clean up.” Producing a broom out of thin air, he shoves it in your waiting hands.

“Lieutenant, I...this is…”

“Disgusting. Yeah. So better not waste any time. You need to get some sleep if you want to survive your morning drills tomorrow.”

“Lieutenant, I’m from Stohess.” Too late do you realize that you’re pleading. “I’ve never even seen a pig’s den that is as messy as this.”

Countless exercises at the crack of dawn, and this is what’s broken you. The room is horrifying. It’s straight out of any neat freak’s nightmares. You don’t know how the lieutenant even stomachs looking at it.

“Never cleaned your own room, huh? Not surprised,” he muses, and you shoot him a dirty look.

This isn’t the spoiled brat in you talking, no, this is the sane human who knows that this room is basically hell incarnate.

“How does this count as training? You just need someone to do the Survey Corps’ dirty work!”

“Is there anything you don’t complain about?” he demands, but oho, you are ready.

“Exercising I can understand. Your random bursts of physical violence - harsh, but whatever.” Not like you’re trying to get vengeance for them, but he doesn’t have to know that. “This is just work, and I want to be paid if you’re making me do work.”

This makes him snort, shaking his head at you like he’s your teacher and you’re not understanding the most basic of concepts. “You’re not a merchant, (L/N), you’re a soldier.”

“A soldier, not a servant!”

“I am ordering you to do this,” he says softly, “are you disobeying an order, Cadet?”

Well, when he puts it like that, you’d rather not get kicked out of the military before you even complete your training. And certainly not before you make the lieutenant pay with everything you have. Oh, revenge will be sweet.

Begrudgingly, you step into the lab, swallowing your nervous inhibitions. This place is a dump, you wonder how Lieutenant Hange even gets any work done in here.

Goddammit, you are never going to clean this place up, no matter how hard you try!

“Like I said, we still need you to sleep,” the he-devil murmurs behind you, “so this better be done in an hour. I’ll come check on you then.”

Oh, fuck him. You wait until he leaves, and then get to work.

____________________

His royal highness comes back an hour later just like he said he would. When he opens the door, he finds you sprawled on the floor against the wall, tired but with your chest puffed up proudly, eyes zeroed in on him to see his reaction.

The room is spotless and distinctly organized. Papers that were strewn everywhere are now in one pile next to a stack of Lieutenant Hange’s many, many journals. Vials and flasks have been placed on top of one another by the sink, where they can be quickly washed and ready for use. The tops of the desks are spotless and dust-free. The floor is not only clean, but shiny.

There’s a brief flash of surprise on Lieutenant Levi’s face as he looks back at you. You allow yourself to smirk. Sure, your arms hurt even worse than they already did and you still feel like a maid because you’ve done more cleaning in the last hour than you have in your entire life (not because you’re spoiled, just because no rooms back home are ever this messy), but it’s worth it to see that he’s impressed by you, no matter how he tries to hide it.

You don’t know why you want him to be impressed in the first place, but you decide not to question it right now.

“Not bad,” he finally relents, walking up to you. “You plan to sleep here, or are you gonna get up?”

You snort. Such a charmer, this one. Well, you’re too lazy to stand on your own, so you hold your hand up expectantly. It’s really the least he can do after being no help at all.

After giving you a long look, he takes your hand and pulls you up to your feet. Your legs feel a little wobbly, and you wryly think about how you’d figured you’d be leaving the base with wobbly legs anyway. What a ridiculous fantasy. You hate him, and he probably hates you too. You would never do anything of any sort with him.

“Go to bed,” he orders quietly, taking note of how tired you look.

“So, 5 AM tomorrow, right?”

Again, he looks dryly amused like he always does when you say things like this, as though you’re just the funniest fucking person he’s ever met. “Nice try, (L/N).”

“When do you even sleep?” you question, brows furrowed in curiosity. You’ve wondered for a while.

Lieutenant Levi shrugs. “Usually from 1 to 3.”

You blink in disbelief, shaking your head. “Sorry, what?”

“Got a problem with that?” He’s clearly not fond of where the conversation’s headed, since he grabs you by the back of your collar and pushes you forward, out of the room. You comply, but you’re not done with this line of questioning. No one can just get two hours of sleep daily and continue to function normally.

“Is this why you’re so grouchy all the time?”

“You have no respect at all,” he quips, still shoving you ahead. The base is for the most part, bare and empty, since nearly everyone’s gone to bed by now. There’s only a few people still around, and they pay the two of you no mind.

“Have you always been an insomniac?”

“Fail to see why it’s any of your business.”

“Are you trying to make me an insomniac?”

The lieutenant sucks in an exasperated breath. “No, then I’d be punishing all insomniacs.”

“Rude.”

“You’re one to talk.”

You don’t know why it’s so easy to engage in banter with him. He never discourages you, as much as he points out how unruly you are. In fact, he seems to enjoy it almost as much as you do.

And you do enjoy it, as much as you don’t want to.

“Lieutenant,” you begin hesitantly, not sure why you’re saying this, “I hear chamomile helps people go to sleep.”

“So it does,” he mutters dryly, “thanks for the observation.”

Fuck him, you were trying to be helpful.

“Are you going to walk me all the way back?” You hum thoughtfully, craftily. “People might get the wrong idea.”

At this, his footsteps stop, and you wince. God, your mouth really just runs a mile ahead of your brain at all times, doesn’t it? It won’t be satisfied until you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you just can’t get out of. Implying to Lieutenant Levi that people would think the two of you had sex is just the icing on top of the snarky cake you’ve been baking him since you got here. When you turn around, he’s looking at you with an appraising expression.

“What wrong idea will they get, Cadet?” he asks softly, grey eyes piercing through you.

Your mouth is dry. Surely he knows, does he need you to say it? Of course he does, he wants to make you uncomfortable. You can’t even blame him, this one’s all on you.

Screw it, you might as well be blunt.

“They might think we slept together.”

If he’s taken aback, he doesn’t show it. “I see. And what would you do if these rumors spread?”

You take a deep breath. “Gouge my eyes out, sir.”

This time, you can’t chalk it up to your imagination or a trick of the light. He scoffs, but he’s laughing, normally cruel lips twisted in a humorous smile. You’re surprised by how pleasant the sight is, like looking at a lily in a field of roses. Out of place, yet so very beautiful, a sight you can’t take your eyes off of. Just how does one man manage to be so fascinating? It takes a lot to make you want to swoon, especially for someone who you harbor such negative feelings for. How does he manage it so easily?

“Can’t have that.” His expression is still lit up in mirth. “You better go the rest of the way yourself.”

You salute, and turn around. Even as you walk, the image of him laughing - laughing at something you said - is burned into your mind, and it makes something in your chest clench in an all too unfamiliar way.

Maybe he watches you go, but you’re too proud to look back and check.

____________________

The air is abuzz with excitement. Everyone’s been waiting for this day. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that everyone joined the military simply so that they could do this.

This being using the ODM gear, of course. Everyone has mastered the basics by now, or they’ve dropped out. The one who stayed have perfected balancing and not falling flat on their faces, they’ve watched senior veterans use the gear, and they’ve gotten a brief example of what it feels like to be shot forward through the air. Utilizing the blades properly will eventually be taught too, but for now, they get to practice flying. Actual flying. How amazing is that?

While people usually pair off on their own, Grumman sees fit to assign pairs himself today, much to everyone’s chagrin. By some shitty luck, you’re not paired with Millie, Ricky, or Stephen. You’re not even paired with Nifa or Jack, who you’re friendly enough with.

No, you’re paired with Petra fucking Ral.

You probably wouldn’t even know or care about who Petra was if not for Millie’s incessant complaining about her. Petra is one of the few people who balanced in the gear belts perfectly on her first try (you were also in that group, but Millie’s not gonna complain about you to you), Petra is all their teachers’ favorite because of how easily she retains information, Petra doesn’t have a hair out of place even when she fights. Petra this, Petra that.

Petra is Millie’s main competition for the number one position.

Frankly, you think your best friend is projecting.

“Do you feel a bit ridiculous too?” she asks after the two of you have put your gear on.

“Just a little.” You face her and strike a pose. “Do you think the titans would appreciate some more flair?”

Petra laughs, nodding. “Some eye candy would go a long way, I’m sure.”

The two of you exchange grins, straightening to attention when the instructor passes in front of you. He looks between you and murmurs something to himself before shouting out loud for just about everybody to hear. “(L/N) and Ral will go first! All the rest of you little shits, pay attention!”

Apparently being paired with golden girl Petra Ral means that you’re supposed to be a role model or something now. You groan inwardly - it seems everyone is convinced you want to be a model cadet. When will they get it through their thick skulls that you’re not that boring?

You and your partner step apart until there’s a safe distance between you two. In front of you is a forest, a forest that is the perfect place to practice with the ODM gear. You grip the handles firmly, knees crouching a little. Excitement bubbles inside you as you tense in anticipation. This is it! This is the first step to you becoming a full-fledged soldier. You’re one step closer to everything you’ve worked for.

“On my mark! Ready, set…”

You toss your shoulders back and push your chest forward and out of the corner of your eye you see Petra do the same.

“Go.”

Whizzing sounds are heard as the two of you fire your cables at the same time. You gasp as you’re shot forward, hurtling through the air at an electrifying speed. The trees rush past you in a blur of green and brown as you go up, up, up into the sky. You let out a breathless laugh as the hooks come free. This feeling, this feeling of your stomach jumping, this nerve-wracking feeling of doing something so dangerous and so thrilling at the same time - you’ve been craving it all your life. And here you are. You’re doing it, you’re actually up in the air and you’re flying. It’s incredible. You could stay up here forever.

So enthralled are you by this experience that you forget to hook to the next target, and with an unceremonious shriek you tumble through the branches and fall on the dirt below. Some gets in your mouth, unfortunately, and you hear loud chortles behind you. You spit out the rancid soil, shooting a glare behind you when you hear another whiz.

Up above you, Petra is still in the air. She’s slowly lowering herself down, though, concern dancing in her eyes as she stumbles to a stop a few feet away from you and rushes to help you up.

“Are you okay?” She looks genuine.

You sigh. Fucking Millie, she couldn’t share your distaste for Lieutenant Levi but she found it in her to hate this girl?

“I’m alright.” You take her hand and stand up, dusting dirt off your clothes. “Just got carried away.”

Petra giggles. “You were saying something about flair, right?”

You smile wryly, beckoning for her to come closer as an idea pops into your head. “We’ve got about two minutes before Grumman sends in the next pair. I bet I can get deeper into the forest than you can.”

Her eyes shine competitively, and she nods.

And without a beat, you two are up in the air again. You’re not a natural like she is, but you sincerely doubt that she or anyone else appreciates the wind whipping through their face quite like you do. You belong up here. You can feel it. For the first time in your life, you know instantly that you’re creating a memory that you will cherish for however little time you might have left.

____________________

Your heart beats with excitement as you bounce on the heels of your feet, looking behind your shoulder nervously. “Hurry up, Ricky!”

“I’m hurrying, now be quiet, someone’s gonna hear you.”

You don’t see how. No one is wandering around the kitchens right now. The cooks who prepare the food left their stations ages ago, and no one else in the base would have any reason to be wandering down here. Normally, you wouldn’t have any reason either, but today is a bit of a special day. Or more accurately, it’s a precursor to a special day. The day after tomorrow will mark the Survey Corps’ next expedition and as always, the cooks are preparing something special for the heroes and fools. An energizer for some, and a last meal for others. While you know that the lowly cadets haven’t done anything heroic - yet - you and Ricky agreed that some pastries would surely make everyone happy. Just a few measly sweet tarts, the Scouts wouldn’t miss them. You didn’t lay a hand on the meat, knowing fully well that most of the people going out in two days would savor it much more than you would.

Ricky is quickly shoving the tarts into a pouch, taking his sweet time counting so that everyone got the same amount. Fucking outer city peasant, concerned with fairness. You sigh impatiently, bouncing on your feet. You’re hungry. The bread at dinner seemed even more stale than usual today.

“Hey, what are you two doing?”

Your eyes widen at the same time as Ricky’s - why in the holy hells is the head chef still here? Does he sleep here? Before you can consider the disturbing implications of that possibility, you’re grabbing Ricky’s arm and running for all you’re worth. You’re counting on the fact that it’s dark in the kitchens, so hopefully he didn’t see your face. Unfortunately, the chef seems intent on finding out who broke into his precious kitchen, because he clambers on out after you.

After running for two minutes, he shows no sign of stopping.

“S-split up,” Ricky pants, wheezing as you two flee.

“Fine,” you huff, a bit proud of the fact that you’ve got more tolerance than he does, “but I want leverage.”

Without waiting for him to respond, you snatch a pastry from the top of the bag and skid to the hallway on the right while Ricky keeps running forward. The chef chooses to chase him, and you cackle maniacally at your friend’s terrible luck. You’re home free, and you have your dessert as a trophy too.

You turn your head to double check, turn back, and then crash face first into someone’s chest.

Rough hands grip your wrists to catch and steady you, and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you want to scream.

Why is he everywhere?

Lieutenant Levi’s gaze goes from the tart in your hand to your panicked expression, and he understands what’s going on without any need for an explanation from you. He takes a step closer to you, tugging you firmly so you can’t move back. You swallow nervously, stuttering out apologies for crashing into him and for being up past curfew. He listens to you ramble, but doesn’t let go. His eyes flicker to the pastry again.

“Those are for the Scouts,” he murmurs lowly. Is it your stupid imagination again or does his voice sound more husky than usual? “Not for fucking brats, (L/N).”

Normally you’d answer with some witty comeback, but you’re feeling a bit dizzy with how close he is and how hungrily his stormy eyes are watching you. The most you can do is open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You’re in deep shit now, you know that much.

Without removing his piercing gaze from your face, he lowers his head a bit, and takes a bite out of the tart in your hand.

You could swear your heart stops beating for a second. His grip on your wrists suddenly feels like it’s hard enough to make them bruise, even though you can tell he’s not holding on that tight. You watch him chew, swallow, and then lick his lips, all without looking away for even a second. It’s mesmerizing. Before you can tell what you’re doing, you raise the tart a bit, and let him take another bite. As though you’re fucking feeding him, like a good fucking girl. The lieutenant’s lips curl into a small smirk, and you think you’re going to drop on the spot when he takes a third bite, finishing the pastry, the tip of his tongue just brushing against your index finger.

You wonder if he can hear just how erratically your heart is pounding.

Levi’s close, too close. You don’t know what to do, how to break his scrutiny of your face, or if you even want to. He leans in, just a little. Your breath gets caught in your throat. When did you forget how to breathe? It should be easy. Suck in air, let it out, repeat.

He tilts his head a millimeter.

You sigh in anticipation, lean forward, and…

He turns away at the last second, and your lips meet his cheek.

Fuck.

You gasp against his skin, not moving. From his amused expression, he can tell that your face is burning up. Somehow, he’s managed to embarrass you again, even if this instance isn’t public and doesn’t end with you in pain. This feels worse than all the other times, though. Before, you were simply thrown around, his way of calling you weak. Physically weak. Not strong enough, a rookie. But this, this is him telling you that he knows he lords some power over you, something that transcends his rank. Something personal.

“Thanks for the snack,” he says, stepping back only a little (see: not enough) to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Now hurry to bed before I decide I want more.”

Heat pools from your stomach right down to your core. If possible, your cheeks grow even hotter.

The lieutenant lets go and turns around, leaving you standing there with a wide-eyed expression, feeling strangely empty as you watch him go.

You’re never going to let him catch you breaking curfew again.

If you’ve never done calf raises before, I do not recommend, they genuinely will leave you sore for a bit if you’re not used to them. But otherwise, yay for exercise I guess.

Reader is very cocky but we love her for it.

We don’t have Petra slander here, folks. I adore her. Millie doesn’t, though. Rip.

Let me know what you think!

[am-artist]

the wilds s2 e5 discussion (tw SA from previous ep)

i really did not need for josh to go through this man

seth being the inside man sure is a choice. now i wonder what kind of fucked in the head he is to have agreed to the role and done what he did to josh, since it clearly was not part of some scheme.

also, this makes 2/4 operatives who have siblings in their control groups, which feels wild considering you’d think they get found out instantly. luckily for gretchen both sibling pairs have massive underlying tension ig!

still do not care about gretchen can we cut back faster

rachel getting to a place where nora’s funeral being suggested while we’re still stuck with 0 body is making me think that she is not in fact dead.

is shelby losing her faith? is that what we’re getting here?

kirin may yet be the #true leader of the group, which is kind of annoying considering what a macho chad type he’s been presented as thus far. stil glad the others are making an effort re josh despite how annoying he is (esp w the tryhard lib backfire racism).

so far gretchen’s inside agents have 1) died 2) ‘died’ 3) purposefully sabotaged the whole operation after assaulting another candidate and 4) been her shitty son, so that’s another point for the “gretchen is a total flop” argument. absolutely incompetent.

45 days in is ig a time to discuss what people back home think about their missing daughters. fun times.

gretchen name-drop! woopsie! (everyone immediately looking at leah after this reveal is so funny)

kirin at least believes josh. future besties set up ig.

again narratively i just do not enjoy the way the SA is inevitably going to destroy any authentic dynamics that could have arisen between the group esp re leadership. the tensions that breed just of the clashes of personalities and approaches are so much more compelling to me than the constant gross tension coming from this shared secret.

henry holding out on the #establishment is very in-character. and him just saying the lyrics to black parade…… is so funny to me. im sorry.

bad skin on the girlies, applause again for the MUAs

shelby’s internal drama is… painful. not painful enough to make me forget she put out that fire two eps ago tho!

oh wait shes going there too. oh fuck.

wow okay toni is so accepting. i do not think i would have been the bigger person so easily. but then again yes the likelihood of the boat spotting their tiny campfire is low.

oh the guys are having this confrontation NOW already?? i was not mentally prepared to have to sit through this debacle.

the boys are all acting exactly as i would have expected which makes the whole thing even more mystifying to me. so they deal with this within the space of one episode, and now that’s just lying there between them hanging over everything else they do. it really doesn’t feel like this served any greater purpose than being a twist villain reveal, at the cost of more natural character evolutions. & from an audience pov anyone interacting w seth now makes me like skin-crawly uncomfortable which is def intentional but doesn’t make me want to watch a lot of the guys’ segments. now hes been banished i assume he has to go into straight villain mode, but having an explicit antagonist to bond against makes the guys have a less interesting island life. and flattens seth out too obv but fuck his character.

random note i feel for henry bc seth *is* family but also it feels like their backstory may involve some badness by the way he reacts to this whole situation.

kirin did come thru tho thank u kirin.

as for josh i hope hes going to do well after this display of solidarity even tho he is very understandably traumatised & not happy abt the way this affects the group’s relationship to him (i will say this for this storyline i do think from josh pov it handles male SA sympathetically and realistically). & it makes sense that no one says anything abt this now, even for as reluctant to discuss it i would assume them all to be about it anyways.

future josh makes me not super confident he evolves positively from here tho.

+ sidenote i do enjoy kirin and ivan acting as opposite energy team parents despite josh not particularly appreciating either approach in the moment.

love the amount of rachel introspection this season but wish it wasnt all about her presumed dead sister. the character has so much inner conflict.

fatin going leah mode (more successfully than leah) is good stuff

welp called it. nora girl i get it but WOW have you done a lot that i would not forgive you for putting me through if i was your sister. hoping this was not your choice

[strxnged]

I MEAN I JUST DONT WANNA BOTHER YOU AT LIKE RANDOM HOURS OF THE DAY. LIKE KT DOESNT SEEM FAIR

I’ll just try and cram as many questions as I can here-

Do you get good grades or bad grades? Like do you gotta study? If yea is it hard??

WHATS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR

FAVORITE PLACE TO HANGOUT??

How observant would you say you are??

Favorite gifts to receive??

Any nicknames for Tanaka?? Friendly or not? Like in a teasing way or endearing

Are you an extrovert. I feel like you are but I have to check-

Favorite food and/or drink?

Idk how much info I’m gonna need sorry for all the questions (there might be more) I’m not much of a planner when I write so it’ll be a surprise what I do-

HDFNJSDNF THESE ARE ALL VERY NICE QUESTIONS AND NO YOU ARE NOT BOTHERING ME PLS IM I FEEL SO FLATTERED YOU WANNA ASK THESETHINGS WHY ARE MY HANDS SHAKING CALM DONW

good grades, i'd say. i'm a tryhard. i always work my hardest. i haven't gotten a B since Grade 6. and yeees i do study in subjects where study material is actually provided or i find that i don't understand it otherwise, you'll definitely see me sitting at my desk with a binder or textbook on my lap with loud music blasting from my laptop. BUT YEAH IT'S HARD??? I CAN'T FOCUS VERY WELL DUDE

MY FAVOURITE COLOUR CHANGES SO OFTEN BUT I REALLY LIKE GREEN RIGHT NOW IN CASE THAT'S NOT OBVIOUS. ALSO ORANGE AND PURPLE. secondary colours 🤤🤤🤤 BUT ALSO NEUTRAL COLOURS?? OR JUST NICE COLOUR PALETTES?? OR JUST WHEN COLOURS

WHEN THEY. WHEN COLOURS.

FAVOURITE PLACE TO HANG OUT?? NOT IN A CROWD S'IL VOUS PLAIT but i do like being around people i'm comfy with, yk, vcs, going on walks, texting, and BRO if i lived in a different place you bet i would be the kind of person to meet people at a park DSKHA

i'd say i'm fairly observant? i'm not clueless, i am pretty good at evaluating my environment while keeping in mind that if i'm in a new space it's okay to not understand everything at first? i can tell a lot about a person from the way they talk and i'm very interested in psychology (i also overanalyze a lot -- you get that andjksna)

FAVOURITE GIFTS TO RECIEVE??? OKAY WELL I DISCOVERED YESTERDAY THAT THE BEST THING EVER IS JUST GENUINE AFFECTION. PEOPLE CHOOSING TO SPEAK IN THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE. people who offer to help out because they want to, people who send long ass paragraphs of encouragement because they wanna express their love and support, people who pay attention to interests so that they can give a gift that's just right aND that they enjoy coming up with. people who just wanna be around the person they love because they appreciate them. i just think it's neat.

nicknames for TANAKA stop i would call him absolutely anything UM BUT YEAH I WOULD GENUINELY CALL HIM "DUDE" A LOT AND IF HE SPOKE TO ME IN THE SAME WAY I WOULD DIE/pos 😍 being comfortable enough with your girlfriend to call her "bro" is SEXY AF so yeah nothing super special 'xcept for maybe "lovey" TEEHEE BYE also no matter how bad the nickname may sound it will be endearing

UHHH i'm an ambivert OR a people-loving introvert. i would DIE without people but they exhaust me easily because it's just so much work to converse with ppl 'n' stuff. but i love listening. people are NEAT.

FAVOURITE FOOD OR DRINK? ANYTHING WITH FRUITS N VEGETABLES IS NICE LIKE I'M A SUCKER FOR SALADS OR SANDWICHES ANDDDD also that leads me to my bread obsession *clears throat* um yeah i was never in a bread cult. not even once.

GN I FEEL LIKE I SAID TOO MUCH BUT I FEEL SAFE ON THIS BLOG TO TALK AWHILE BECAUSE IT'S MY PERSONAL SAFE SPACE. also that's why i probably come across as extroverted? because i'm comfortable here? and when i'm comfortable i can be LOUD and VERY ANNOYING DSHKFLHD

[uwua3]

Hello, can I please suggest a childhood friends to lovers troupe with Banri? Thank you so much!

of course! i put this off at first because i wanted to understand banri’s character a bit more and what direction i wanted to go with this! it might be a little bit opposite of what you wanted but i hope you like it~ ♡ i hope you don’t mind childhood enemies to friends to lovers ;)

summary: all your life, you wanted to beat settsu banri, just once

warnings: arguing, breaking the law, bullying(?), injuries, physical fights,

author’s note: this is definitely much more different from anything i’ve written! please enjoy it~

being naturally good at everything = wanting to compete at everything once’s there’s someone worthy and i think it’s a complex we need to address. honors students who get burnt out often give up because it’s not easy at first. setting children up to be the best and putting them against one another instead of encouraging teamwork is evil and a flaw in the education system. so take risks, and take down any institution that disrespects you :)

word count: 4,298

music: hot girl bummer – blackbear, preacher man – the driver era

childhood champion.

🍁🥇 settsu banri

banri was the most insufferable, annoying kid to ever walk the face of this earth

everyone picked him first for their sports team in gym, he always knew the answer even when the teacher caught him sleeping in class, and he knew what a multitalented threat he was

it was so unfair! even as a child, you had to spend countless hours studying the next topic to stay ahead but banri did it without even trying

you were second in class, he never even wavered or was worried about his valedictorian position

banri was so, so annoying

you two were the first picked to advance to honors–level classes the next school year in middle school

you actively rose your hand in class to get the answer correct. you sat in the front and kissed up to your teachers so they would submit more than just “a pleasure to have in class” on your report card

banri would doze off in the back if he was forced to attend school. it would take multiple tries to get him to wake up and even then, he could’ve summarized the entire class lesson with no effort. he didn’t care about other people’s opinions

which must have been nice, considering how everyone either loved him or fully hated him

you two were never aware of each other’s existence throughout elementary; it wasn’t until your teachers constantly compared you to banri’s perfect grades and banri to your model student behavior that you began to despise each other

to you, banri was your #1 rival and competitor. everything you did, you wanted to beat him at. but to banri, you were just another tryhard that wouldn’t survive in the real world

it was when you were the only student getting every question right that you talked to him for the first time. you rose your hand again, a pleasant expression on your face as your teacher looked around, sighing as everyone averted their gaze

before the teacher could call your name, you felt a wadded–up paper ball hit the back of your head and a snicker. the class went dealthy quiet for once

you whipped your head to the back to see banri’s egotistical maniac of a smirk staring right back at you

“nerd.” banri dropped, his arms behind his head and feet propped up on his desk. his bag wasn’t even open and his pencil was stuck behind his ear. what a troublemaker

“mr. settsu! apologize this instant, we do not tolerate name–calling in this classroom.” your teacher reprimanded maturely, watching as banri shrugged and put his feet on the ground with a loud thud. leaning forward, banri put his hands together with an exaggerated sad face as he batted his eyelashes

“i’m so sorry~” banri laughed, his mocking tone making you narrow your eyes, plastering on a fake smile as you simply nodded and turned around. it wasn’t worth it to fight with someone who didn’t even care

anger boiled in your blood, all you wanted to do was turn around and give him a solid punch

yet, you straightened your posture, answering each question precisely with a tight grip on your pencil as you felt more spitballs land near you

no boy was going to get you to stop focusing, and especially take class time away

banri didn’t know why he bothered trying to piss you off anymore when you didn’t react. it was boring him, to say the least

when he “accidentally” stole your lunch, you just used your allowance to buy something from the lunch ladies (who absolutely hated that they had no evidence he stole from the fruit bar). when he knocked your books over off the desk with a bang, you just picked them back up and moved to a different table. hell, he even started a grade–wide game that pretended you weren’t there. you didn’t care, you kept doing your schoolwork

you were so, so boring

banri was on cleaning–duty for vandalism or whatever, something that didn’t follow the school guidelines. he was assigned to his homeroom classroom and had to wipe down the desks, sweep the room, and scrape off gum under any surface

“what the hell...” 13–year–old banri cursed, kicking at the dust pan as he didn’t want to start. he didn’t clean, he was good at it, he just didn’t like doing it

turning on his heel to ditch the classroom and deal with the consequences later, he was face to face with the fakest smile ever as you leaned against the doorframe (seemingly satisfied with his predicament)

“sorry, settsu. i’m here to supervise you to make sure you’re cleaning, today.” you dropped your sweet, quiet tone and revealed the truth: a tough, tired attitude that was ready to snap at any point. banri raised his eyebrow, crossing his arms as he scoffed, looking to the side

this should be fun

“oh yeah? what will you do to stop me? can you even handle me, i’ve seen how you don’t score shit in gym.” banri spat, your lip twitched at the swear as you had an incredulous look

two could play at this game, you weren’t backing down

“i’m not here to fight, settsu. i want you to hurry up so i can go home and do my homework.” you heard his sickening laugh throughout the empty hallway. it echoed, reminding you how he had no filter or manners whatsoever

“homework?! imagine needing that to pass. even i don’t do my work... and i’m at the top. how sad.” banri fueled the flame on purpose, eyes glinting with something of boredom and a wicked evil found in prepubescent boys

“you wouldn’t know what that’s like, though, right?”

you clenched your fist, all the pent–up rage you withheld in to have the higher ground was beginning to turn your vision red

“come on,” banri grinned, finding fun in driving you insane as he lazily moved into a fighting position, not expecting anything. “hit me—”

you didn’t remember what happened next, but you had to sit next to banri who had a black eye with an ice pack up to it in the principal’s office

both you and banri received a weeks worth of suspension for having a fight on school grounds

you hated settsu banri. and he found you interesting, so he didn’t say anything when he came back, letting the rumors die down

banri wanted to be your friend. your punch wasn’t even all that bad, maybe he could teach you how to hold your fist

but you avoided him at all costs now. he started going to school more frequently, and played impractical jokes on you in between classes just to get a reaction

you didn’t do anything. you just requested a schedule change and had classes on the opposite side of the building

classes became boring again, no one wanted to fight with him because they knew they’d lose, and he stopped attending classes out of spite

banri couldn’t believe he may have finally met someone who had some balls to do something to his shitty attitude and you just left

but throughout the years leading up to his first year in hanasaki, banri had immense respect for your 12–year–old self who landed a nasty hit (it totally would’ve k.o.–ed him if this was a video game)

banri had his eye out to see if you were in the front row with your hand up, or if you were hiding in the library behind towering shelves, or if you were even just moving past him in the crowds of people in the hallways

but it’s like you disappeared out of no where, how boring

you kept a secluded, mysterious reputation. no one had anything to say about you because you did nothing to get attention. so banri couldn’t even track you down through the grapevine of gossip

you disappeared and remained second (behind banri, of course)

as school went on and the summers cleared his mind, banri slowly forgot all about the young kid who gave him a black eye

as he passed the exams to qualify for entry in hanasaki, he didn’t even think twice if you were gonna be there

second year at hanasaki academy. 16–year–old banri nearly dropped out because of his own insatiable boredom. he got into more fights (he always won), ignored his classmates, and just kept being a huge jackass even unprovoked

school was so, so boring

class rankings were released after finals, banri remembered strolling up to expect his name at the top spot but watched as the crowd of students nervously parted to let him through

his eyes automatically landed at the #1 spot (he never checked anyone below him, they were dumb) but it wasn’t his name. instead, he saw yours. you were beating him

letting out a sarcastic laugh, banri backed up and left without another word, leaving the students to breathe a sigh of relief they weren’t the next victim of an infamous settsu roundhouse

how long had you been at this? how long did you study just to see your name printed over his? he must’ve been a big deal to you

banri ditched school early, about to hop the back fence before he noticed a flash of the academy’s school uniform above. halfway up the fence, banri looked behind him. no one. looked up, and you were sitting at the edge of the rooftop, swinging your legs casually

after all these years, and banri found you on accident

“hey.” banri drawled, waving up to you who seemed lost in your own world. you had a loose grip on some textbook, staring off into the slow clouds. you must’ve missed the lunch bell signaling the end of eating. you? skipping class? it was almost too funny to be true

banri bristled under the lack of attention. it’s been years and this was the response he got? he was ready to start shaking the fence to alert everyone within a one mile radius he was here. yet, banri noticed the hardcover textbook that must’ve cost hundreds begin slipping from your fingers. you didn’t care to notice

“hey! hey! what the fuck!” banri tried to make you snap out of it, but he swore as he leaped from the fence as soon as the book started falling. you shook your head rapidly like you just woke up, nearly falling over as you watched banri catch the heavy textbook with one hand as he rolled onto the rough pavement. it was a move out of a superhero film, like he was a professional stunt double

you gasped, scrambling to get off the edge and jumped. banri was about to yell a very inappropiate curse, but you grabbed onto the tree branch nearby and climbed down easily. it was like you did this countless times... what the hell happened to you and who was this that replaced you?

“oh my god! i am so sorry, i wasn’t paying attention at all.” you apologized sincerly, offering your hand to help pull him to his feet. banri ignored the pain in his shoulder and hip as he pushed himself up, the scrapes on his palms and rips in his uniforms making him wince for a moment. you noticed

“you idiot! what were you thinking? you could’ve died!” banri snapped, pushing the textbook to your chest as you stumbled back, eyes wide. you huffed, feeling aggressive as every instinct to fight with him came back as strong as ever despite banri’s heroic act

“don’t act like you know everything about me! i said i was sorry, what else do you want?” you fought back, pushing him back even harder with your book. banri felt something burn inside him for the time ever since you punched him: excitement

“let’s settle this. you. me. right here. right now.” banri got into a battle stance, pretending to be very serious when he didn’t even hit girls. but, he wanted to piss you off so bad. he was so bored of his life being on super ultra easy mode (it was like you were the final boss)

he didn’t even get another word out before you sighed, put your backpack and books down gently, rolled your eyes, spun around, and kicked him straight in the jaw

you had used the infamous settsu roundhouse kick against him

this time, he was much stronger than he was before at thirteen. he straightened himself up, stared at your clenched fists, and laughed

“after all this time, you never learned how to throw a real punch?” banri taunted, but the playful tone of his voice gave himself away. you slowly backed down, going back to your normal position as you revealed a tired smile. you ran your hand through your hair, seeming to contemplate on whether or not you should respond before shrugging

“never really had to fight losers like you before.” you retorted and banri gave an impressed look that you even made a comeback. rubbing his jaw and feeling the bruise about to form, banri watched as you stuffed your books into your bag

“by the way, that was for everything you put me through in middle school.” you stood up, flipped him both with hands confidently, and left. turning the corner, you winked and shot him a finger gun, showing you didn’t hold any grudges anymore for his stupid behavior

“wait—dammit.” banri rushed to catch up with you, but you were already gone the moment he went over. there was no trace of you and banri kicked the wall out of frustration, regretting it immediately when he forgot about his injured leg

“mr. settsu!” he heard from one of the classroom windows and looked up, seeing his maths teacher glare at him. uh oh

banri put his hands up, knowing security would have to come drag his ass to class

he could’ve swore he heard your laugh as he got yelled at for getting caught, making him subconsciously smile

(banri got into more trouble when the teacher thought he saw it as a joke)

gossip was exchanged as banri came into class sporting a bruised jaw and ripped clothes. they said the gangster was finally taken down by someone who he was no match for, it was almost laughable

i let them win, banri thought, barely paying attention to whatever his teacher was writing on the blackboard

but banri wanted more competition. he couldn’t just let you hit him even if he fully, 100% deserved it

banri closed his eyes, falling asleep with his hand in his cheek. you better not have any plans this afternoon

it was 5pm. you were heading out of school after finishing all your extracurricular duties. it was exhausting pretending to care, faking a smile just so your superiors thought you were the perfect leader. whatever gets you into university, right?

you needed a break. you stepped up to the rooftop after sneaking into the locked stairway. oddly enough, it was already open. you tip–toed in on guard, preparing to hit someone with your bag before you noticed a shadow against the pavement

but as soon as you stepped out, banri was waiting

it was nearly sunset, and banri was playing some game on his phone against one of the benches against the border

you paused, not sure what to say before he casually looked up and did a double take, rushing to pocket his phone and standing up

silence. like you two had nothing to say after all these years. you didn’t expect to see him again, you stopped caring about his laziness and focused on yourself even if you didn’t have the motivation anymore

banri awkwardly put his hands in his pockets, the blazer elbows almost torn to shreds. a strand of his hair fell in front of his face, you wanted to reach out and push it back

here you were, with a perfect appearance with nothing out of place, as expected of a model student. your uniform was ironed to perfection and had no creases despite your tree jump. you learned how to get rid of the evidence

when nothing seemed to be happening, you almost turned around before banri spoke way too loudly

“i’m sorry.” banri choked out, like he was saying it against his will. you froze, not wanting to turn around as you gripped the strap of your backpack. was he being serious?

“i’m... sorry for basically picking on you in middle school. it was dumb of me, i was stupid.” banri explained, appearing cool but his fingers were clearly fidgeting in his pockets. oh, he was serious

a part of your child self felt like it was healed, knowing you had one over settsu banri. you nodded, turning slowly to face your childhood rival. your childhood competitor. the childhood champion of everything

this time, you were the winner, but it didn’t feel like it

“yeah? i’m sorry for beating your ass twice then.” you joked, seeing the tension leave his shoulders as he naturally laughed. it was almost therapeutic to finally not fight for something for once

“truce?” banri put his fist out, and you didn’t even have to think about it before moving forward and fist–bumping him

“truce.”

you and banri became close after your so–called peace treaty. you put all the rivalry behind you, you forgave him

banri surprisingly understood you had a “perfect reputation” to uphold despite all the secret trouble you got in. in public, he stayed away and pretended like you didn’t exist. in private, you two snuck onto the rooftop to have lunch and stay until night, talking about nothing and everything at once

you even tried getting him back on track, using the temptation of competition to trick him in doing his work (it at least worked half the time)

(“i definitely could finish this faster than you!” banri protested, scribbling his answers and he always finished first. he never realized what you were doing when he was in the heat of the moment)

banri had never stayed at school this long, his attendance was making a come back and he was even looking forward to times he could see you in between classes

(he never put this much effort in, he didn’t want to find out he wasn’t naturally good at being your friend)

everything was good. you two were compatiable friends who cursed every middle school teacher who set them up to be enemies. you swore at teachers who now abused their position of power and laughed about leading a revolution. you two were young, dumb teens who wanted change. you wanted anarchy, he knew enough about it to get behind it

banri texted you screenshots of his elite gaming status in the game he recommended to you, getting a response the next day proving you were almost at his level. damn. he could respect that

banri took you to his favorite local arcade, (believe it or not) after you claimed you could at least tie him at something. when he saw you get frustrated, he pretended to stumble on the arrow pad for DDR and feigned annoyance as you beat him for once. he even gave you his spare coins once he got bored and watched you, adding unnecessary commentary you’d kick him for

(“not again!” banri pretended to cower, protecting his jaw that was already healed)

you guys would even raid 24/7 stores after leaving school, stocking up on snacks and energy drinks so you could stay awake throughout the day after game night

but his favorite thing to do with you was sneaking out and returning you back before curfew. banri was naturally a homebody that didn’t find the outside fun, but when you confessed you never had a late night drive before, he arrived a block away and nearly gave you a heart attack when he knocked on your window

(you two agreed to have a special code and banri would knock to the beat of your favorite game’s theme song)

that night, you sat on the hood of his car and watched the stars, unaware of how banri couldn’t tear his eyes away from you

when banri dropped you off and helped you back in with his hand at your back, he nearly fell off the tree as you made your way onto your second–floor bedroom

you smiled, a strangeness to your windswept hair and messy clothes. you didn’t care what you looked like around him

banri gulped, forcing himself down the tree as he ran to his car, heart racing a mile a minute

what the hell was that? banri took a deep breath in the driver’s seat, rubbing his forehead as he groaned. why did he feel like this? did you do something to his soda or something?

as banri drove home, he flipped on the radio. teenage dirtbag by wheatus blasted on the inner roads

“how does she know who i am? why does she give a damn about me?”

banri braked, the car halting in the middle of the road. it was 3am, the street lights gave way to the empty, deserted road

oh my god. he liked you

he liked the person who gave him a black eye, got him a week suspension, kicked him in the jaw, and got him caught by his teacher

teenage dirtbag faded out on the street as banri sat there, listening to the lyrics

“fuck.” banri deadpanned, knowing things wouldn’t be good if he kept acting up like this

well, everything was good, until that night

banri arrived at midnight sharp like always. you rolled out of bed with full clothing ready for any night activity he planned

he took your hand to go down even though he knew damn well you didn’t need the help. sneaking out was like second nature at this point, it was a miracle you two hadn’t been busted yet

you two were stealthy, avoided all the cameras your parents put in place after noticing there were footsteps imprinted on the grass (it didn’t bother banri, he liked the challenge)

speeding off, banri slowed down to the speed limit once he saw you push the roof down and stick your upper body out into the wind. he shook his head, lowering the windows as well. he heard you scream along to whatever pop song was on at the top of your lungs

in that moment, you forget you were hanasaki academy’s perfect model student. you were just a person having the time of their life with their best friend

pulling into an abandoned parking lot, banri stopped in the middle as he tugged your shirt down. his wolfish grin seemed electric, like he was high on a predictable adrenaline rush already

“hey, do you trust me?” banri revved the engine, one hand on the wheel and the other out as a fist

it felt like that day back on the school rooftop where you made a truce with your middle school rival. like everything was about to change

without a second thought, you bumped your fist to his. “i do.”

banri shifted to level one as he turned the wheels to a full direction. you held onto the edge of the door as you realized what he was about to do

“you’re joking!” you yelled over the sound of the engine, banri flashing you a quick wink before the car started spinning. he was doing donuts because you said you wanted donuts the other day, this was not what you meant!

“you knew i didn’t mean it like this, you jerk!” you protested, but couldn’t help but laugh along with banri as smoke rose from the tire tracks on the concrete. you felt dizzy, but you never felt more alive laughing with your best friend in the middle of the night

banri suddenly stopped, his foot on the brake as a distant shout made you freeze

“hey, who’s trespassing?!”

“go, go, go!” you yelled, pushing banri’s arm as his foot triggered the gas and changed the speed. you guys zoomed out of the supposedly “abandoned” parking lot, hearing the random owner attempt to chase after you before tripping on his own feet

“holy shit!” you exclaimed, not feeling sorry you were laughing at the man who was now shaking his fist at you. you knew it was too dark to even see banri’s license plate, you were fine. you felt your energy peak as you couldn’t help but turn around with a wide smile

“did you see that guy’s face, he looked like he was ready to kill—” you started but banri braked again, both hands tightly gripping the wheel. you almost lurched forward but banri stuck his arm out against your chest, holding you to your seat as he glared at you

“how is this funny to you? we... you! you almost got caught! your future would’ve been ruined, do you understand how severe that situation was?!” banri ranted, sweating as he had to practice controlled breathing to prevent himself from saying something he’d regret. he was so worried, he never cared this much

“so what at this point? what’s there to even live for after college?” you scoffed, crossing your arms as you looked away. banri’s arm started retracting, but he randomly grabbed your face and pulled you over the divider, looking you deeply in the eyes like he never wanted to let you go. like he wanted to remember this forever

“me. live for me.” banri muttered, before he closed the distance between you two. your childhood rival, competitor, and enemy liked you

high on adrenaline, you kissed back. you were on top of the world

and suddenly, everything was good again

you both won

[skyhopedango]

State of the Season pt 1

So, so many shows! :O I don't remember the last time I watched so many ongoing shows. Alas, quantity doesn't translate into quality, but still, there are some pretty nice shows that I enjoy a lot.

Not these, though.

Dragon, ie wo kau

Yeah, this was crap. I expected something fun and fantasy-spoofy, I got a badly animated, badly produced, badly acted (from the main character) video-game-referencing show that takes one joke that is already not incredibly funny, and runs it into the ground until there's nothing left but dust. Pity.

.

Mars Red

Oh, this show. The first episode was stilted and vaguely pretentious*, but I thought eh, let's see a bit more of it. So I watched episode two and three, and bam, the usual vampire-hunter-vampires shenanigans with some half-hearted attempts at ~Historical Relevance~ but still pretentious. Perhaps it could've been better with more interesting/charming characters, but they weren't interesting at all... OK, that's not quite true, I liked that young vampire (supposedly the most powerful one?) who was always doing the "hey enemy vampire, you can join us or you can die" speech, that was cute.

*I mean... yes, you've read Salome. Yay. So how is it related to what happens in the episode? Does she kill the one she loved to possess him or something? No. Does she do anything even vaguely related to the story of Salome? No. So... what's the significance of the references? And from episode 2 it was downhill. EP 2 has Romeo and Juliet for "tragic lovers" which is about the most clichéd thing ever and the lovers' story had nothing in common with Romeo and Juliet other than them dying in the end. And in episode 3 the characters are literally standing around reciting Relevant Poetry. I suppose this works for people who are satisfied with understanding a reference and who want to feel smart for knowing some classical literature, but other than that...

I've been putting off watching episode 4 since Monday, and frankly at this rate likely I'll never watch it.

.

Fumetsu no anata he

3 episodes in, and oh yes, I remember why I didn't keep up with the manga. Look, I'm not saying it's a bad show. As most people I was very impressed with the first episode. Good stuff, emotionally powerful. But what happens after that is just totally not my cup of tea. Nonhuman entity learning to understand humans and gaining sympathy for humanity would be totally up my street - but not really when it happens via a generic adventure story, tryhard epicness tipping into unintentional hilarity every now and then, overwrought music, precocious kids mugging for the camera, and the threat of misery porn looming just over the horizon... and that's not even mentioning the obvious production issues apparent from episode 2 that further undermine the epic tone the show is going for.

I think I'll give it one more episode, although I have a feeling I'm not going to last longer. I'm sure the story will eventually have some profound things to say, but I'm also sure it'll be nothing I haven't heard before in ways that resonated better with me.

.

86 -Eighty-Six-

aka "Liberal Circlejerk - The Anime". (And while it can't be "white liberal" for obvious reasons, it has the attitude down pat.)

This show. This is what you get from a LN for horny teen boys fantasizing about being badass soldiers and naive girls in sexy uniforms, that also wants to say Serious Important Woke Stuff. You get a show about Super Special Teenagers that is hilariously dumbed down, preachy, self-congratulatory, and also cynical about how it treats its female characters. (And that's not even saying how stupid the setting is... I'm sure there'll be some twist but seriously, it still wants us to just handwave away stuff like "even if the enemy's weapons will expire in 2 years, how come nobody asks 'what if they built new ones' or 'what if they have other stuff up their sleeve'" etc...)

Really, I'd like to say that at least the show has its heart in the right place, but I can't, because for every preachy and dumbed down but decent message it delivers it does shit like ogling the main female character (whose uniform has a garterbelt apparently because the LN writer is into that), having her make cute pouty or blushing faces, pointing out how she's a virgin, having a "boys ogle bathing girls" scene* where the girls of course talk about boys and romance because girls, eh? etc. Hell, in episode 4 it even manages to undermine the single best thing that happened in the show so far by basically tone policing the oppressed character who told the MC to fuck off and not treat them as her morality pets. Clearly even if your friend was just killed in action and this random person who is also your oppressor and is wallowing in privilege, is crying in your ear making it all about her, you shouldn't be rude to her because aw shucks she meant well. And of course all it takes is a "sorry, I'll treat you like humans from now on, I swear" for everyone to start respecting her. Like, wow, she's committed to the bare minimum, where's the champagne?!

*Yes, the girls were dressed, but you just know that at one point in production (or perhaps in the source material) they were were naked. The entire scene is set up as a usual ogling-bathing-girls scene, so I'd bet money that what happened was someone in production vetoed it in the very last moment so they didn't have time to rewrite everything, only to give the girls clothes.

I'm still getting some entertainment value out of 86 (those spider tanks are pretty nice...) but oh boy, the cringe.

[wildflower-alex]

The shores (C.H.) Chapter 1

Note: I’m reposting this, as the first time it had some troubles. Hit love if you like it!

The night went by with Matthew by her side, his slow snores keeping her awake at the feeling he might die in his sleep. She wished he could die, so she’d be freed and she wouldn’t have to make a choice about their relationship. That was the hardest part, making a choice inside her mind and actually sticking to it. She remembered the tantrums she threw back at his parents house, the times she thought she was crazy or the times he would stroke her skin and make her spine curl. He had a touch she could remember even if she was walking down the street. It was hard not to give him credit on that. Yet, he was destroying her, slowly, but steady, piece by piece, playing with her mind and her memories, gaslighting her, blaming her for everything he’d done wrong. The cheating, the tremendous seek for attention, the excessive amount of time spent to look good for others, these were red flags, but she ignored them as she swam into the deep ocean of his sweet lies.

She finally fell asleep facing his body, tracing imaginary lines along his torso and cursing herself for being indulgent. She felt she loved him, but was it really love? Was it that normal to fight all the time about every aspect of their lives? And on top of all, was it normal trying to get attention from all the females around? Maybe that was normal, but she knew deep down that it felt wrong. She just wanted peace, both around, but inside her soul, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rays of sunshine started to hurt her eyes, annoying her that they’ll finally wake her up. After a minute or so, she opened her eyes and saw the curtain moving in the blow of the wind. It was finally peaceful and she could enjoy a morning without grunting and a sore throat. She turned on the other side, but found nothing. She smiled knowing that she was alone, at least for a few minutes. Her hands slowly started to rub her eyes as she stood up in the middle of the small bed.

“Are you ready for the beach?” Matthew’s voice pierced the silence, making her heart to tremble.

“You scared me!” she whispered. “What are you doing there?” she asked as she bent over the edge of the bed to see him laying on his stomach and checking his phone.

“It was hot last night and I slept on the floor. How could you?” he replied.

“How could I what?” she said as her eyebrows furrowed under the words.

“How could you let me sleep on the floor?” he said, a smirk forming on his lips.

“It’s way too early for your shit” she mumbled as she made her way to the bathroom.

The coldness of the water woke her body up and relaxed her muscles. The citrus smell of the shower gel opened her nostrils as she usually enjoyed every perfume caressing her skin. She started to rub away the memories of last night as the foam fell on the ground and sunk down the hole.

“You know what?” he screamed from across the hall. “Forget the beach, I’m literally fried and can’t stay in the sun”.

“I told you to put on some sunscreen and you never, never” she paused and continued “… ever listen to me” she whispered to herself, knowing that even if he heard her, he’d never approve her.

After she stepped out of the bathroom she laid on the bed, thinking about everything. Her phone rang.

“Hey, are you ready yet?” Christine asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in 5 minutes” Sonia replied. At least she got a beach buddy to hang with. She thanked God for Christine’s presence as she put on the bathing suit, then looked in the mirror at Matthew’s reflection. He looked so dumb, she thought, with his hands crossed on the chest, a cushion wrapped around him and his eyes closed, mimicking a deep sleep. So dumb. She quickly grabbed the bag and left the room, not wanting to give an extra explanation. Thankfully for her, he didn’t care enough to ask anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was so in love with the sea. Everything about it ignited a warm fire inside her soul, a sweet sensation of pure pleasure and relaxation as she was enjoying the view and the well-known smells of the beaches. The smooth sand burned her bare feet, making her to walk faster to the proximity of the water, where it was colder.

Once finding the spot, they carefully arranged their things and stopped to take a breath. It was idyllic, the invisible line of the sea merging into the sky, forming a deep, enormous blue, perfect to sink in. A blow stroke her face only to mess up her hair, already curled up from the previous days. As she carefully removed the oversized shirt she breathed that she wanted to swim for a bit, leaving Christine behind to arrange their clothes.

When the coldness of the water hit her chest, she felt her heart pounding harder, making her breath to lose the rhythm. The sea was agitated that day, but she managed to stick her feet in the sand, closing her eyes to only feel the water. Waves started to increase, but she enjoyed that feeling of the water slowly rising to her chest and swallowing her entirely. The second after she tried to stand up in her feet and regain her breath a wave hit her with the force of a bull. Her now sunglasses were lost at the bottom of her feet and she furiously started to look around her, on the sand beneath her feet and at the waves around her, but she could only see a figure standing a few feet away from her. She build up the courage and sunk into the water, as her eyes wandered to find the sunglasses. Nothing. She was now angry. Then she felt a pulling motion and her scalp hurting as she took a deep breath out of the water.

“What are you doing? You could’ve drown!” a raspy voice screamed at her from behind her back. It took a second or two to regain her thoughts and understand what happened. She was pulled out of the water by someone. She felt a bulge increasing in her throat and suddenly needed to cough the water out.

“Are you ok?” the man asked as he pulled her body close to his and dragged her onto the shore.

She wanted to answer, to say that she can’t breath so well, but she’s fine, yet her coughing never stopped. A few seconds later, he pulled her body entirely from the water and placed her on the dry sand.

“Oh my god! What happened?!” Christine yelled as she ran to her friend.

“She was under water when the waves hit me and” he paused, trying to catch a breath “…and I thought she might’ve drowned” he ended.

“Sonia? Soni?” she asked, but got no answer.

“Sonia, is that your name? Hey” the man said again. She felt like their discussion took hours, but it was actually a matter of seconds, as she was lucky enough to witness the discussion. The man grabbed her chin and turned her face to his. She was somehow able to think, but her mind was so far away, still thinking about her sunglasses and the water in her nose. She looked at him, but saw nothing.

“Sonia, hey” he harshly added.

Only now her vision was less blurry and more active on the man standing in front of her.

“Yes” she whispered.

“How are you feeling? Can you breathe?” he asked.

“I can” she coughed and shook her head, trying to regain her conscience. “Yes, sorry…”

“You scared the shit outta me!” Christine said, while her eyes laid on the man, only for Sonia to catch a glimpse of her enthusiasm.

“Let’s go sit on a towel, do you have one?” he asked, his eyes never leaving her white face.

“Yes, we do have” Christine pointed out, trying to sweeten her voice. Sonia felt she couldn’t care less about her, but only for the boys. She then stood up and ran to their towels, searching for something in their bags.

As Sonia laid there she finally relaxed her body to exhale and wipe her face. It was that moment she realized what happened, her desire to no longer see the light of the day, her desperate scream for help, as someone grabbed her body and gave her another chance. It was already hard for her to express her feelings, but now it was harder than any other day.

“Thank you” she whispered and decided to look at the person in front of her. Her heart skipped a beat as this man was a gorgeous creature, a very pleasant human being, something you could watch all day long. His most remarkable feature, the eyes, had an almond shape, something with an Asian influence, but wide enough to let his long eyelashes to flutter. He had big lips, as most men do, but his were bigger, revealing the gorgeous teeth he had. A few small moles drawn across those chubby cheeks and strong eyebrows perfectly marked his face, making his caramel skin to glow stronger in the sunlight of the morning.

He smiled, revealing the perfect smile she always searched for. She always looked at people’s smiles, trying to figure out their personalities based on that, and she always concluded that bright, uncensored smiles meant pretty personalities. She loved smiles so much that she was often caught off guard as she would stare at people around. His smile was perfect, that was for sure.

“You scared your friend” he replied as his chest let out a breath, revealing his nervousness. Was Christine that scared? Probably, but not that much as to fear for her friend’s life. “Here, let me take you to your towel” he added and placed a hand on her waist and walked her in that direction. “Now you’re safe, ok?” she nodded. “Ok, girls, Imma leave, please excuse me” he said and she took one more look into his brown eyes and both of them smiled, while his hands slowly stroked the inside of her palm, then walked away.

“He’s so hot, my fucking God”

“What?” Sonia replied, as if she wasn’t there, her mind wandering around the man’s pretty smile and eyes.

“He’s so hot I’d fuck him”

“My God, you’re so desperate” and laughed at the thought of this silly girl trying to get attention from anyone, anywhere, anytime. Her slippery personality was, anyway, showing little by little over the years and Sonia was used to her being needy. Still, she laughed inside knowing the truth, that Christine was a wannabe, always a tryhard, whilst playing the martyr. Whorish, as she’d say.

She laid on her back and pulled a shirt on her face, covering it from the heating rays. While straightening her neck, she took a look in the direction which the men left and saw him, not too far, standing on his feet with a beer in his hand and at the same time he took a look at her direction.” Is he looking at me? Can he see me? No, I’m overreacting” she talked to herself”.

Chapter 2 here

[bluefirewrites]

Sky High Mall!AU Part 2

Hey this is another excerpt from the Sky High Zach x Magenta WIP that I never finished (hence WIP). 

It’s a Mall!AU where the characters are kids with summer jobs at the mall. No powers and it’s set around the time the movie came out- 2005. 

Part 1: https://bluefirewrites.tumblr.com/post/636284063233327104/sky-high-mallau

Would be Rated T and there’s excessive use of language throughout. 

This excerpt would be Zach’s perspective working at the music store at the mall. Enjoy!

_____________

Zach booked it down the mall, zooming past the crowd gathered at Sonic Boom, the music store

The music store he worked at.

The one he was supposed to be at right about now.

He pushed through the crowd, getting to the front where his coworker was working the register, seeming to throw the albums at the customers because it was that busy.

Zach loved his job... on any other day. He was a total musichead and he thought it was a long shot to even snag the job, considering it was common knowledge that it was run by Boomer who was a total hardass and pretty unforgiving to those who he deemed had shitty music taste.

He had seemed to wow him enough during the interview, which had been merely them talking about the music he listened to. Thank god, he had just enough of an eclectic music taste that he was able to keep up with whatever soft rock ‘80s classic question that Boomer threw his way.

The Black Eyed Peas album just dropped today and everyone had been clamoring to get in to grab it, so it meant all hands on deck. But only the hands that Boomer could afford to pay right now, so it was only Speed there at the moment.

Zach leapt over the counter, shedding his jacket to reveal his shirt already sporting his name tag, “Yo, is Boom here yet?”

“Cutting it close, freshie,” The senior looked like he wanted to throttle him for leaving him hanging longer than he should have. But it was only like 5 minutes, and Zach had been rushing from summer school to make it home, get ready, then come straight to the mall. He did the best he could.

“You know you can stick a hat on it right?” Speed ruffled his hair while tapping his own cap, messing up the gel that he had put in there before he came to the store and greasing up his hands in the process.

“Hey!” Zach cursed him out for deflating his hair as well as making him pick up the slack while Speed wipes off the hair gel.

Speed always pulled shit like this on him. He hated having shifts with a guy who loved to pick on him, and not in the friendly-joking way that he was used to.

For the next couple of minutes, the two of them were able to go ring up the crowd quickly, even shrunk down the amount of people in the store to half of its capacity. It was still busy, but it was more manageable than before that it actually freed up Speed to do his laps around the store, trying to quell the crowd and mitigate whatever problem came up that would have resulted in calling in the manager.

20 minutes later, they both had a lid on the situation. Only because they were pretty much no more copies of Monkey Business. Zach was about to check if they had more when he realized that the store was eerily quiet. He had just noticed that the TVs around the place were turned off and no music was playing in the store.

Zach went for the sound system dial towards the back of the store but Speed came from behind and beat him to it, “You snooze, you lose, freshie.” His coworker sliding in a Snoop Dogg CD he had snagged from earlier.

He groaned. Zach didn’t mind Snoop, but Speed would play it almost nonstop every time Zach can’t reach the dial fast enough. Speed had almost no taste, always playing chart toppers and whatever cute girls would request (which usually would be chart toppers).

Speed waltzed over to the records, getting high-fives from a couple of customers on the way over, “It’s what the people love!”

“Not Boomer,” Zach pointed out, whilst walking over to the main displays up front. The crowd had kept bumping to the table so he had to make it look tidy.

“But Boomer ain’t here. He’s never here,”

Zach looked up and caught a glimpse of his hair on the main monitor that was supposed to feature the Black Eyed Peas music videos. Shit.  It was sticking out in weird places and looked deflated in others. He ran his hair through it and tried to zhuzh it up with his fingers but nothing seemed to be staying.

“Aww.You’re still pissy about your hair? Did you a favor, dorkwad,”

Zach rolled his eyes. Normally, he would try to steer clear of Speed and try not to notice him. But his co-worker seemed to be in such a talkative mood today, “It was fine the way it was, Speed.” He finished resetting the table cloth and arranging the display how it was supposed to look before turning around to help a customer find a Celine Dion CD.

“Stop being such a tryhard,” Speed said to him as he passed with the customer, “The ladies like it when you’re chill.”

“How would you know that?” A new voice added. Once Zach successfully helped the customer, he whirled around to find his buddy, Will. He took notice of the blue shirt and gray khakis and figured he had work today at Champs. He barely saw Will anymore due to Zach having summer school and their schedules never seemed to match up.

“Shut the fuck up, Stronghold,” Speed sneered at the newcomer.

Will paid him no mind while he shook Zach’s hand before bringing him in for a quick hug, “Zach-Attack!”

“Will, like it’s not great to see you, cuz it is. Great. To see you, that is,” Zach kept on the lookout for Boomer while walking towards the register because Speed had left it unattended, “Kinda not a good time right now, man.”

Will greet a few other people he knew around the store. He scanned the big displays and the cardboard cutouts on the front, “BEP?”

“BEP,” The blonde confirmed, “And I’m already on Boomer’s bad side for fucking up with the Mariah Carey launch.”

His friend clicked his tongue, recalling that certain incident. Zach remembered that Will had been working his shift downstairs when he heard Boomer let him have it. He had heard Boomer all the way from down there- that was how bad it was.

“How were you supposed to stop a bunch of nimrods from defacing her cut out?”

Zach shuddered at the thought of all the obscene Sharpie marks all over Mariah Carey’s cardboard figure, “I swear, Speed had something to do with it. That guy has got it out for me ever since I started working this joint,” he whispered.

“It’s because out of everyone here, you’re the customers’ favorite. You actually know your shit,”

Zach figured that it was somewhat true. They would get regulars pretty often and they always seemed to gravitate towards him. Zach did enjoy making connections with everyone no matter what their music taste was.

One time, this one guy came in, all in orange, who had been tentative in asking where the classical music selection was. Luckily, Zach got to him first before Speed could roast him. And good thing too, because that guy became one of his favorite regulars. He might be working at Radio Shack, the last he heard from him.

“Thanks, man,” Zach really appreciated it. Sometimes he couldn’t help but get all up in his head at his job. He wanted to do really well and hopefully one day he would have worked enough hours to save up for a car. He had been getting real tired of having to rush on his bike everywhere and being constantly late.

“But seriously, scatter. Don’t make me have to kick you out.” he joked to his smaller friend.  

“Yeah, Stronghold. Go back to dealing with smelly feet all day,” Speed yelled from his side of the store.

“You’re just jealous because I got the job and you didn’t,”

Zach had to hold back a laugh seeing Speed getting worked up so quickly. He had heard Speed bitching about being passed over the job at Foot Locker constantly. The guy had been a total sneakerhead so it had been a crushing blow to his ego that a freshman got the position while he was stuck working for cantankerous Boomer.

“Whatever, man. You probably got it because you’re a Stronghold,”

Will shook his head, the jabs of his dad being the Mayor never really fazing him much anymore, “Remind me again, how did you get the name, Speed, again?”

The rotund bully growled. Everyone knew that there were two stories that could have explained how Speed got his infamous moniker. One was because  all the joyrides in his Jeep that resulted in property damage. The other well… had to do with distributing contraband. Bringing up either, was cause for a beatdown.

Speed advanced towards Will, ready to punch him square in the face, no matter how many onlookers in the store gathered around to watch the debacle. Zach had to vault over the counter, to get in between the two when all of the sudden a resounding yell broke through the clatter that made all parties involved wince and cover their ears.

“Ladies, enough!”

Boom strolled in, aviators perched on his crooked nose, commanding the attention of the room- as if his voice didn’t do that already. He came up beside Zach, poking at Will to step backwards until he was out of the store,“Shouldn’t you be downstairs, Stronghold?”

“Yes, Boomer,” He shouldered his bag before throwing a passing glance at Zach. Good luck, he seemed to emote.

Rightfully so because all of the sudden Boomer marched over to him, “Why if it isn’t Superstar, here to grace us with your presence,” His eyes landed on the BEP display and noted the dwindling number of albums, “Restock those will ya? And Speed” he turned to the older boy, “you’re relieved of your post.”

Speed looked up to the heavens, “Thank fuck.”

“Language!”

He straightened up, “Sorry, sir,” Then he ducked for the back, switching off Snoop Dogg as he did so. Zach followed suit to where they did inventory and found another box of the albums and hauled ass back out to replace the albums on the display.

“Now, get to that, will you,” Boomer ordered while counting up the till to see if everything was where it should be, “And if I see a hint of Sharpie on either of those cardboard figures, your ass is mine, kid.”

Zach almost let out a laugh but remembered it was Boomer. He meant everything to be a threat, “O-okay,” he managed to get out without laughing. Then he saw Boomer closing up the register and heading for the door, “Wait? You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah. I’m the owner. I can do what I want,”

“I mean, since I’m like the only guy here and it’s a pretty busy day- I thought-”

“You thought what? That you need help?” he seemed to project the full force of his voice at him that Zach cowered against his better judgement.

“Listen, I started this shop to fill it with music,” His boss went off, “Real music. Not what passes off as music these days. Those hip grinding degenerates are showing up by the boatloads today and I don’t wanna be here when they do.”

A little boy approached the man, tugging against his cargo shorts, “Excuse me, where are the Eminem CDs?”

Boomer looked at the kid with disgust and shimmied him off, “That’s my cue,” He scrounged his pockets for the keys and tossed them Zach’s way, “Here, you’re closing up today.”

“What the-?” Zach nearly fumbled with the keys, “Again?” He had been closing every night this week, despite not actually being allowed to, with him being 15 and all. But Boomer had an arrangement with Ron Wilson, security guard who patrols at night.

“Don’t mess this up for me, Blondie!” His boss yelled just an influx of people arrived at the store, hungrily grabbing the CDs off the display he had just finished restocking.

“I’ll try,” he responded, knowing full well that Boomer could not hear him. Speed sped by, sticking his tongue at him on his way to freedom. The line of people had started forming and Zach cracked his knuckles- no choice but to face them on his own.

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 3

also known, in my list of docs, as “chill your chichis, luka.”

i think this might be becoming a habit

hey siri, when does a habit become a problem?

actually i don’t think i wanna know the answer to that.

Luka goes back to Tom and Sabine’s at least two more times within the week, and at least one more time after that. And every single time, the girl with the dark hair and the sketchbook and the blue, blue eyes is at the counter. Tapping that pencil, playing that tasteful music, so focused it’s almost scary. He even tries to space out his visits, just so he won’t look desperate or like he’s coming by just for her. (Even if… admittedly… part of the reason he does come by was in the hopes that she’s there.) He just happens to be, it seems, the victim of dumb good luck.

Or maybe just dumb luck.

To his credit, he carries himself pretty well whenever he talks to her. Keeps their transactions and conversations short and simple, waits for his orders in the relative quiet of the shop—mostly because he’s afraid of making a fool of himself any more than he already has. The second time, she’s already speaking with another customer; her eyes are bright, her smile just as sweet, and even though it isn’t directed at him, a part of him feels so goddamn blessed to hear her say, “Enjoy, monsieur! Have a good day!”

And then she gets to him, and her expression mellows out. “Oh, yes,” she says, her nails trailing over the spine of her trusty, mysterious sketchbook. “I remember you. What can I get for you today?”

In the moment, he doesn’t care if she doesn’t remember his name. The fact that she remembers his face is enough to quietly send him over the moon. “Just the napoleon this time,” he says, and then, after the pause when he hands her his card, “So… about that macaron.”

(He’s already kicking himself.)

The girl seems unaffected. “What macaron?”

“The first time I came,” he says. “I didn’t order one, but there was one in my box.”

“Oh, that.” She hands him back his card, along with a receipt to sign. (This time, he notices his name at the bottom.) “It was a special promo we had going. Buy five pastries, get a macaron for free.”

Luka looks up from the receipt, stomach churning, fingers twitching. “I only bought four.”

The girl seems to freeze for a moment, and this time around, the pink on her cheeks is unmistakeable. “Sorry about that, then,” she murmurs. “I guess I was just excited about it.”

It isn’t until after she’s called his name and handed him the little box, after he’s walked out of the shop with the sound of his name still ringing in his ears, that he realizes there was no promo advertised anywhere in the bakery.

It makes him consider leaving the note again.

He’s been thinking about doing it since the first day—when he was waiting for his order and minding his tongue over the music—and he still can’t tell if he regrets not doing it. He’ll be the first to admit he isn’t exactly the best at speaking words, and he’d probably make an even bigger fool of himself if he whipped out his guitar and started playing all the things he felt himself wanting to say in the moment. Like a walking anyway, here’s “Wonderwall” guy in the corner of a house party.

A note, though. That feels like a happy medium. Getting the feelings out without it being too intrusive, or too much of a sentimental tryhard. It seems more and more doable with each time he stops by. And it’s really only a matter of composing the message in his head: Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, I just wanted you to know that I think you’re pretty—

Wait, no…

I wanted you to know  that I couldn’t stop watching you that first day—

Oh, God, no. That actually is creepy.

Maybe this is a wild guess, but I think your name starts with an M because of the macaron, and there are lots of nice names that starts with the letter M, and whatever yours is, I’m sure it’s pretty—

Now it’s just getting worse. He’s not even totally sure about the letter M thing. For all he knows, it could stand for “macaron.” The literal thing he ate.

Why is this so much harder than actually talking to her? It’s supposed to be the other way around. It’s always been the other way around, no matter how much it looks like he can get away with it or cover it up.

He knows one thing for sure. He can’t leave his number on the note. Because leaving his number is effectively hitting on her, and he knows better than to hit on someone while they’re working. He heard it in a podcast once: never ask someone out if they don’t have a way to get away. Not to mention the fact that she’s there to do her job, not waste her time on people trying to chat her up and tie up the business line. He knows better. He knows better.

But something in him says that life is too short not to compliment people, genuinely. Life is too short to hold in your heart every nice thing you could say to someone—to lock it away where they’re guaranteed to never hear it. He’s told himself this, even tweeted it with slightly clammy hands right in the middle of refusing to take his own advice.

He figures it out eventually. It only takes days on end, but it comes to him as a flash just before work, the way the right melody tends to do. He scribbles it on a shred of paper from the lyric notebook he shares with Rose and stuffs it in his pocket before he can even give himself the opportunity to reread it or throw it away, and then he’s walking his bike down the gangplank of the Liberty and pedaling away like his life depends on it. Because if he doesn’t do it now, he never will. Because life is too short, and he’d like to get busy actually spending the rest of it.

Hey there. I don’t mean to intrude on your day or anything, and feel free to toss this if it makes you roll your eyes or whatever. I just wanted to tell you that your eyes are the most beautiful shade of blue I’ve ever seen. And that you’re incredibly pretty. That’s all. I hope you have a good rest of your day, because you deserve it.

--Luka

P.S. You already know my name. I hope one day I’ll get to know yours.

P.P.S. If that’s cool.

It’s the best he’s going to get. And it’s everything he can do not to write any more postscripts.

When he gets to Tom and Sabine’s, the shop is—as it has been the last few times he’s come by—empty except for the music and the girl. Except this time, she’s looking at him directly as soon as the bell over the door rings. Like she’s been expecting him. He won’t be so presumptuous about it, but he can’t help hoping that that might be the case. She looks curious at first, but then her expression melts into familiarity, and she closes her sketchbook. “Let me guess,” she says by way of greeting, already tightening up her apron and her high ponytail and tapping at the screen at the register. “A pear tart and a napoleon.”

Well, it’s better than what he thought she might say.

Luka heaves a nervous laugh as he approaches the register, but manages to say, “Just for that, I’m ordering a pain au chocolat.” If anything, he’ll give all the credit to his customer service experience. Knowing the worst of what’s happened to him is sometimes enough to remind him that he can get through a conversation, even with the bumps in the road.

The girl grins, her eyes sparkling. Just the eyes he wrote about—maybe doesn’t want to  “Oh yeah? Keeping me on my toes, huh?”

“Someone has to,” he says; he pauses to wonder why he even said that, if they’re even friendly enough that he could say something like that. If they could even technically be friends. He gets the sense, though, that the girl can’t tell what he’s thinking, which means he’s doing all right at hiding it. He reaches for his back pocket to cover it up even more, not wanting to think about how much money he’s spent here this week.

It’s when his fingers brush against the crease of the note that his stomach twists, seems to pop open and let every ounce of adrenaline spill into him. He clutches the note, too, before he can overthink giving it away—before he can regret writing it or not handing it over. He focuses on his debit card first, lets the overhead music attempt to calm him as he goes through all the motions of paying. It happens to be from one of his favorite bands—well, technically, it’s one guy with a rotation of musicians, but it’s still a band—and he finds himself tapping his sneakers to the beat, faintly humming along. She really does have good taste…

“Here,” Luka says a little too fast when she slides a paper bag across the counter. He trades it for the note, which is a little wrinkled from being in his pocket but otherwise intact. He holds his breath, meets her eyes, the blue that’s been getting to him these days. “This is for you.” A part of him wants to say, I promise it’s not my number, but even that seems like a downward spiral of bad choices. Justifications that won’t come out quite right.

Luka takes the box and turns on his heel before he can think to take it back, or before she can say no thank you. Because hearing that means insisting in return, and he doesn’t know if he has the constitution to do that when he’s never wanted to push, when it feels like his mind is swimming and his face is burning. He already knows what he’s going to post online as soon as he gets out of here and rounds the corner: “life’s too short not to tell people you think they’re pretty,” i say, choking up and bolting out of the best bakery in paris. and then, it’s official, i can never come here again. He hasn’t decided whether he wants to tack an lmao on the end of that one, or whether that would be too cynical.

But the girl doesn’t say no thank you. In fact, she doesn’t say anything at all. There’s only the crinkle of paper as she unfolds the note behind him, which makes him pause at the door. He feigns checking the time on his phone; still half an hour before he needs to report to work. Maybe if he holds out long enough, she might call out to him or something.

But what if she tosses the note after all?

But, God, what if she doesn’t?

He can’t bear to turn around.

“Marinette!” a voice calls from the back—it’s Mr. Dupain’s, gruff but hearty and adoring, the way he seems to speak to almost everyone. Luka tries not to jolt too much in surprise. “I need some help with these baguettes!”

There’s another crinkle of paper, another snap of a notebook. “I’m coming,” the girl calls back, and Luka would swear that something about her voice sounds… sweeter. Something from the sparkle of her eyes trickled in.

He smiles to himself, and pushes the door open, and tries in vain to ease the pounding of his heart.

Marinette. What a name. It’s as beautiful as her eyes. He mouths it when he has a moment alone, because saying it out loud feels a little sacred even for someone he’s only really met a few days ago, and maybe partly because if he says it once, he won’t want to stop saying it, and someone’s bound to think he’s off his rocker if they find him like that.

Marinette. Even her name sounded like it belonged to the sea. He wants to say it to the Seine, tell it a secret the way he’s done ever since he was a kid.

Instead, he plays the song from the bakery in his head again, and savors every bite of his bread, and licks the chocolate off his thumb before he dares to pull out his phone.

okay, fine. life is too short, not to tell people they’re pretty, period.

so CBG, i don’t know if you needed to hear that or something, but i can’t say i regret telling you.

[cloudbattrolls]

The Path of Most Resistance

Jastes Verdan || 9.5 sweeps || Civitrecce || Present Night

Your claws change and harden into steel, allowing you to cut extremely thin, careful lines around the control panel. They’re hardly a millimeter deep; not enough to trigger its alarms. One day the factory might improve their security, but you’ve always kept a careful eye on their sensors; they’re surprisingly careless about so-called minor damages.

“Move it, pal.” says the voice in your earbug. “The others are plenty busy, but that’s going to be worthless if you don’t goddamn manage!”

Xineck only used one cussword, so you have at least five minutes. 

You take out four small gray capsules, your breathing mask firmly in place. It’s technically a cocoon, but nobody likes to be reminded they’re wearing a bug in their nostrils. 

You barely give it any thought as you turn your hand back to flesh slowly, precisely attach each of them in front of the four lines of the box shape you made around the panel and then quickly press sealant onto them. The quick-hardening adhesive will not only provide a temporary disguise, but will also seal in the degeneration agent from the capsules as they burst and ensure their acid eats away until it reaches the control box’s inner workings. 

It’s a shoddy job. If you were grading someone else on this, you’d give them a four out of ten.

A stream of profanity issues from the earbug, but you’re already heading for your exit.

A great deal of shouting and thundering feet - the factory’s security - go by as you pass, then stop and turn around. 

“Hey!”

You appear slightly apprehensive as they catch up to you. 

“Yeah?”

“What’re you doing out of the column? It’s still your shift!”

“Oh.” You look vaguely surprised and pluck at the uniform that became yours as of tonight, and will leave your possession again very shortly. “Look, I...”

A burly bronze girl waves her hand irritably. “You know what? I don’t want to hear it. Let’s just write you up so the boss can deal with it.” 

You make half-hearted noises of protest as she goes over you with a handheld scanner and registers your implanted ID chip in for disciplinary action the following night. 

You feel sorry for the girl whose face and identity you’ve stolen for a bit. The worse crime is probably her slightly altered memories from a few quick slips into her wetware.

“Hey.” The bronze girl adds, even though the other guards have shuffled off. “I’m just doing my job, y’know? I’ll treat you tomorrow night. You like ice cream, right? I know a place.”

Your pumper skips a beat as you blink in surprise, but you figure that wouldn’t be out of character for this girl.

“That sounds cool.” You say, the hesitant new helm glad and wary to receive such sympathy from someone far higher-ranking.

She nods, and then walks off.

You continue to the front door and let yourself out, obediently typing in your clockout number. Then you go to her hive (its cameras are currently being fed a series of loops pieced together from old footage and its microphones’ ranges have been reduced), turn metal, rearrange your features, and return to your organic state again with your own face intact. 

You’re just doing your nose when Xineck struts in and nearly gives you a pumper attack, not that you show it. He’d enjoy that way too much.

“Everything’s peachy.” He drawls. “Girl hasn’t got a clue what happened, and it looks exactly like a rival messing with their junk. You did such a shit job that they’ll have no problem pinning it on amateurs like GrubTech. ”

“I thought it was only sort of bad.” You say mildly. “She’s a kid; I thought I did pretty good as an amateur.”

The maroon snorts, elbowing you in your side. “You’d think we got our ideas from b-list movies. Did you really have to waste four capsules of that shit? It’s not cheap.”

“I had to look anxious and tryhard.” You say, delicately inflected to suggest the possibility that those are things he’s quite familiar with.

“I’m gonna cut you some night just for the hell of it. Will I throw up? Yeah. It’ll feel good later, though.”

You finally flush slightly yellow, and Xineck grins with as many sharp teeth as his lusus. Totally against the style for a burgundy, but he’d rather swallow live earwigs than file them or get surgery. 

He’s the one troll who knows what you can do, and thus your weaknesses. A more pragmatic troll would have had him culled for that. Sometimes you wish you weren’t so sentimental.

The rest of the group knows you’re a psiionic, but many just assume you have illusion-based powers and access to expensive tools, or secretly prosthetic limbs under your skin.

You’re as flesh and blood as any troll; it just happens to be optional.

You look away. 

“A guard was kind to her.”

“Big whoop.” He says idly, cleaning under his claws with a knife.

“She deserved to be there for that.”

“You going to go write down your feels, buddy? That guard would still shove her into a column with a whistle and a wave. Her kind are sellouts. Put your thinkpan back in your skull, the others’re getting the taxi and restoring the apartment’s stuff.”

People who aren’t Xineck sound incredibly appealing right now, and you brighten up. 

He laughs at you, but at least the job is done and you can, very slightly, relax.

[regularbeans]

Best Albums of 2017 (10-1)

Here they are \o/ 

10 Imagine Dragons: Evolve

A bit like in Hurts’ case, I didn’t think something more perfect than Smoke + Mirrors could be created. And I was right, Evolve can’t even live up to Night Visions let alone Smoke + Mirrors. But is it good? Sure. Is it awesome? Ehh, not awesome, no, but it’s good. It sort of reminds me of what a first album would be for a band that doesn’t quite know what to do with themselves yet. It’s a bit all over the place, not quite a unit even though the songs individually are all enjoyable. There’s a disconnect there between the title and the material as it doesn’t quite feel like evolution just yet. Sure they’re stretching out their wings, trying to see what they can do to not be forever put into the radio hit factory box. The best example of that is Thunder but there are other efforts here that are worth a listen. At the end of the day I love the kindness of this record, the lightness in some songs and the brutal force in some others. I’m interested to see where the road takes this band from here.

My favourite songs from the record: Rise Up, Yesterday, Mouth of the River, I’ll Make It Up to You

09 Amber Run: For a Moment I Was Lost

I was surprised to see just how many of the bands I’ve been following were on the verge of breaking up or having to reinvent themselves in order to survive. It’s not that big of a deal, I realise, it happens to most artists I imagine and even though I’m glad we’re all okay I’m the happiest for Amber Run’s pulling through a hard time. They fall into this category of the best of all the worlds ever so nothing is really off the table with them from epic ballads to club bangers (okay maybe not club bangers but I wouldn’t be surprised) and because of Joe Keogh’s unique vocals and enormous range they really have nothing in their way to create whatever they like.

They usually like to create this dream-like almost vision of angelic plucks at the guitar and the piano, but then it turns into yelling and hammering away on the drums, every guitar the members could find simultaneously playing every note on the known scale and it’s beautiful, hectic waterfall of emotions. They have a fair share of lukewarm nowwhat’s but luckily they have enough of when they’re at their best too (I’m talking about the waterfall of emotions).

FAMIWL is a tad more dynamic than 5AM was but also more confident in the same time. This band is criminally underrated but I hope they keep making music because they’re such a unique spot in the current indie rock scene, it’d be a shame to rob the world of their sound.

My favourite songs from the album: Perfect, No Answers, Stranger, Insomniac

08 Ed Sheeran: Divide

I like fun. I also like Ed Sheeran. So when literally ALL SIXTEEN SONGS from his new album’s DELUXE EDITION was on Spotify’s Global Top 50 for so long Spotify had to implement changes to how they pick the top 50 so one artist can’t take up almost half of the list I thought it was fucking hilarious and I’m so glad it’s Ed Sheeran who achieved this.

Because he’s always been a “bit of this bit of that” kind of musician it’s hard to tell if he ventured outside his comfort zone on this record but I know that the first song on the record, Eraser, is part of why I like this guy so much. Every side of him, the ballad guy, the rapper guy, the nostalgic pub song guy, it’s all him, and all throughout the success he’s remained grounded. When I heard him name Damien Rice in Eraser, someone he’s idolised ever since he was little and literally followed around to pursue with demos of his songs, I knew he remained that honest guy he was back when he was just... a guy. I can respect that. I hope he keeps that up. And this album’s got hooks for days, all better than the one before.

My favourite songs from the album: Eraser, New Man, Nancy Mulligan

07 Window to the Abbey: Moving Around Bias

I wrote about this record in length here and I’m surprising myself with the placement of this album but it’s true that if one of my few problems with this album is that the songs are in the wrong order then it’s still a pretty damn good album. And it is :)

My favourite songs from the album: Break Up Song, Part Time, The Promise, Common Ground

06 Cold War Kids: LA Divine

(it was really hard to crop this without it including the expression “Cold Kids”)

My love for Cold War Kids is endless and yet their albums are such hard hit and misses it’s incredible. I either love them to bits or I love like the lead single and nothing else. Dear Miss Lonelyhearts has my all time favourite CWK song on it but I couldn’t hum you another song from that album. However the singles released from LA Divine were very promising so I found myself hoping for a good one. And it was. I agree with critics that say maybe CWK wanted to chew off too big a bite with the needless intermezzos that don’t add anything to the overall experience but other than that you’ve just got these guys flexing their hit writing muscles. These songs are banger after banger, call it tryhard if you want but I’ll call the firemen cause... cause it’s lit......

I’m sorry.

My favourite songs from the album: Can We Hang On?, No Reason to Run, Ordinary Idols

05 Linkin Park: One More Light

I’ve loved Linkin Park for a decade which is a long time and 2007 wasn’t even remotely the beginning of their career. It was with Minutes to Midnight that the “they sold out” train started and more and more people jumped on all of the wagons every year especially with new releases and yet Linkin Park stayed not giving a crap, a bit like Fall Out Boy. My personal favourite of theirs Living Things was followed by The Hunting Party which I didn’t quite get but I never stopped enjoying their music. So when Heavy came out I knew the bullshit about them going pop would start and I wasn’t wrong. It’s true, One More Light is way milder, more quiet record than any of the records before but I feel like if you’ve been in a band for almost two decades you can kind of do whatever the fuck you want without having to explain yourself. I’m glad Linkin Park did exactly that.

Lighter in its sound but just as emotional as ever, One More Light is different, but it’s a welcome difference. I didn’t want another Meteora or another Living Things, I wanted a new Linkin Park record with good songs on it and the band delivered. I love the sampling, I love the polished melodies, I love the rap parts just the same, I love it when Mikey sings :) if I could change one thing I’d just make the whole album longer.

My favourite songs from the album: Talking to Myself, Sharp Edges, Good Goodbye

I fucking miss Chester so much. Rest in peace, thank you for everything.

04 Misterwives: Connect the Dots

I’ve also written about this miracle of an album here so I won’t repeat myself (I think I’ve done it enough already). It’s bands and albums like this that remind me to try new things even if they don’t look like my thing. I don’t listen to stuff like Misterwives and yet this album brought so much joy into my life, I couldn’t be more grateful (to Spotify).

My favourite songs from the album: Only Human, Band Camp, Out of Tune Piano, Let the Light In

03 Everything Everything: A Fever Dream

I also wrote about why and how Everything Everything got onto the best artists list so late and the case isn’t different with the album either. Get to Heaven didn’t blow my mind and even though a friend of mine couldn’t have recommended A Fever Dream to me more I just missed out on it for a few months. But maybe it was fate, maybe it wasn’t my time to love it before. Now it definitely is. A Fever Dream continues the band’s tradition of singing fast-paced, weird songs overloaded by dissonant guitars and synths, accompanied by the singer’s wailing. I’m sorry I keep shitting on his voice, it’s a very unique voice, it’s kind of rickety and squeaky but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

However, there’s a strange, faimilar coldness about this album. I can’t explain how it manifests I just feel it. A sort of addictive loneliness I couldn’t get out of even if I wanted to. Either way, all of these together create what is definitely a perfect album. (Pretty much if I wanted to I could put this in the place of Enter Shikari’s The Spark and it would still stand, they’re both just so good.)

My favourite songs from the album: all of them, really... but if I have to play along, it’s A Fever Dream, White Wale, Good Shot Good Soldier, Night of the Long Knives

02 Enter Shikari: The Spark

Another review I already got out of the way, I think I summed up well why The Spark is so special. But I’ll quote the important bit:

“It sounds like a concept album but to me it’s rather a collection of specific ideas and topics with clear messages, expressing thought-provoking opinions without ever demeaning the listener or even sounding pompous or like Enter Shikari knows better because they’re not playing regular music, you know.”

My favourite songs from the album: Live Outside, Undercover Agents, Airfield, Take My Country Back

01 Nothing But Thieves: Broken Machine

Not that it needs more explanation because I’ve pretty much been on about this album the whole fucking year but Nothing But Thieves came into my life two years ago at a friend’s recommendation and their first album quickly became one of my favourites that year (I snuck it onto the best albums list at fifth place in 2015) and when Amsterdam came out it was just The Explosion I waited for. It rekindled my love for them and made me look forward to something in a year that wasn’t great. Singles kept being released and slowly the wait for Broken Machine consumed my life.

In this day and age, probably because of how cynical I’ve become, it’s hard to look forward to something in a “man this is gonna be awesome!” way, it’s usually that tense sigh of “I hope they don’t fuck this up” but maybe all the stars aligned and I just knew Broken Machine would be awesome. And it was.

I wrote more about the album here if you want to check out my 100% objective review, and please, please listen to Broken Machine if you haven’t yet (also listen to it if you have already listened to it) because it’s truly something special.

My favourite songs from the album: you know the drill, but if I had to choose a few to recommend, it’d be Sorry, Broken Machine, Live Like Animals, Particles, I’m Not Made By Design, I’ll stop listing every song on the album now. 

[punkscowardschampions]

Bea & Fraze

Bea: Hey Fraze: What do you want, red? Bea: Talk Fraze: Didn't gloat enough last night, yeah? Fraze: Go on then Bea: That wasn't even what I intended then, even though I was obviously shitfaced, so yeah Bea: Christ Bea: I'm sorry, alright? Fraze: Fuck sorry Fraze: I was shitfaced last night too, I didn't stick my tongue down anyone's throat Bea: Well, you could've Fraze: Cheers for the written permission Fraze: I'll go make a friend, gimme a sec Bea: I'm just saying, not the point, is it Fraze: Your point is, it ain't fun unless you can throw it in my face, like Bea: It wasn't actually about you, sorry to disappoint Fraze: Funny way of showing it Fraze: Should've kept your hands busy, babe Fraze: It would've avoided this Bea: Don't be disgusting Bea: it was bad enough what I did Fraze: You came to the wrong place for sympathy Bea: I'm not after it, I'm just trying to tell you I've sorted it, alright? Fraze: Now you've said it. Run along and pat yourself on the back Bea: Yeah got it, you hate me Bea: but I don't love him, hear that Fraze: What do you expect me to do? Like I could cast my mind back to how it feels pining for someone but I was only a kid Fraze: Fuck off Bea: That isn't close to what this is Bea: How do you manage to still be so arrogant whilst being totally fucking wrong? Bea: A real talent Fraze: Better mine than yours Bea: Obviously Bea: Hope its good company, like Fraze: We done or is there more sob story to come? Bea: Fuck it Bea: You've heard it all before and if you're incapable of connecting the dots by now, you never will Bea: why waste any more time Fraze: Wouldn't want you keep from walking the fuck away again Fraze: Off you go Bea: Again? Seriously? Bea: Where have I gone that you haven't Fraze: You tell me Fraze: The distance ain't being measured in miles, is it, babe Bea: Exactly Bea: Don't act like it was all my idea Fraze: Likewise Fraze: Not for one second was your hand being forced Bea: Didn't say it was Bea: Doesn't mean I had it under control, all cold and calculated, so fuck you Fraze: Hurts doesn't it, when people reckon you're that cunt Bea: I haven't accused you of fucking anything Bea: That's all you Fraze: Bullshit Fraze: Ever since uni started it's like I masterminded this whole fucking plan to fuck you over Bea: You're the one bringing that up Bea: What, you want me to say I'm perfectly capable of that all on my own? Bea: Got the proof, now who's fucking gloating Fraze: Fucking hell Fraze: If the cap fits though, babe Fraze: Go ahead and gloat about how you picked someone who was off limits and broke what few rules there were, on your way out Fraze: Proud of you, like Bea: Fuck off Bea: You don't get to be faux angry on his behalf Bea: You don't even think he's legit or like him and now you're his defender? Don't make me laugh Fraze: You fuck off Fraze: I'm angry on my own behalf Fraze: I don't get attached, deliberately, but you just had to one-up me and go harder, yeah? Congrats Bea: I'm not attached! You aren't listening Fraze: I could give less of a fuck what you're TRYING to say Fraze: You didn't pick him up at the club, no names Fraze: And you knew how I'd react Fraze: You fucking love this Bea: You don't get to listen last night and not now Bea: not how it works Bea: also no Bea: I know it's hard when you're so self-involved but consider for a second that it was actually about HIM and not YOU Bea: pushing HIM away Fraze: Shut up Fraze: I know how important he is to you, no need to shove that down my throat after you've tongued his Fraze: I can think, do and say what I fucking like Fraze: That's how it works Bea: Then do Bea: if this is the hill you wanna live and die on Bea: but you're being ridiculous Bea: frankly Fraze: And that's only for you to be, yeah? I forgot Fraze: You're a fucking farce Fraze: And still judging me Bea: Least I'm owning it Bea: what the fuck are you doing? Fraze: I'm not the one shitting on everything from a great height last I checked Bea: You're complicit, you said as much Bea: but nah, all me Bea: wouldn't that be helpful for your complex Fraze: You're wasted not studying psychology, babe Fraze: Truly Bea: Whatever Bea: I know I'm right and so do you Fraze: Feel good, does it? Fraze: I hope so 'cause it's all you've got to show for this Bea: Yeah, great Bea: Can't you tell? Fraze: Yeah Fraze: Doesn't take a genius Bea: Thank fuck Bea: 'cos you're a total moron Fraze: Fuck you Bea: No, you Fraze: That's the best you've got? Fraze: We ain't 7 any more Bea: Stop sulking then Fraze: Stop messing me about then Bea: I ain't Bea: it was just drunk texts, we've all been there Fraze: Still fucked me up Bea: I said sorry Bea: I am sorry Bea: what can I do? Fraze: Say it like you mean it Fraze: Say it to my face Bea: Really? In the middle of a School week? Bea: You are high maintenance Fraze: Fuck it Fraze: I can own how much I miss you Fraze: How shit this is Bea: Still? Fraze: Do you want me to come or don't you Fraze: Simple enough Bea: Yes Bea: obviously Fraze: Shut up then Fraze: Always fighting me Bea: Yeah, like I'm letting that one slide when I've got at least a solid day before you get here and can make me Fraze: We both know when I get there you'll only be making more noise Fraze: That's why I need you to give in now and let it happen Bea: I'm not stopping you Bea: student loans might have something to say about how you utilize your funds; your profs, your time Fraze: That shit's the least of my worries Bea: Cheers, I ain't THAT bad.. Fraze: Don't get it twisted, babe Bea: Well what else would be giving your grief? Fraze: It's the lack of you Fraze: You're not the problem like, it's that bullshit getting in my way Bea: Yeah Bea: I get it Bea: Got to be done Fraze: Yeah, but I've got to see you first Bea: Come Fraze: No pretty please? Bea: Pushing it, boy Fraze: Would you rather I didn't? I don't reckon Bea: You know what I'd rather Fraze: As a total moron, might need it spelled out, like Bea: Aww babe, you need your ego stroked after that one? Bea: Gone soft on me, like Fraze: It ain't my ego Fraze: And not unless you've lost your touch, babe Bea: Doubting my talent after lauding it only seconds ago? Bea: Hot and cold you are Fraze: Making sure you're listening and keeping you interested Fraze: Bit of multitasking and that Bea: Hmm Bea: Bit tryhard but appreciated Fraze: What else do you reckon I'm learning at college? Fraze: Might as well be an arse kissing degree this Fraze: They call it business but Christ Bea: Whatever gets you the deal, babe Bea: 😂 Bea: Love to see that in action Fraze: You and all these other cunts Bea: You don't like your course? Fraze: What gave it away? Bea: You could change Bea: Not too late Fraze: Not technically but we ain't all loving dealing with superhuman workloads, babe Fraze: Fuck starting over Bea: Alright Bea: It'll still be worth it in the end Fraze: Yeah Fraze: I'll get it done, it ain't that bad Bea: Good Bea: Not just saying it, yeah? Fraze: I'm not a pussy I've done this much, I can handle the rest Bea: I know you aren't Fraze: Don't treat me like one then Fraze: Take my word for it, like Bea: Alright Bea: Calm down Bea: Only asking Fraze: Only saying Bea: Yeah Bea: well I'm sick of not knowing how you're doing Fraze: You are losing your touch if you ain't keeping decent tabs Bea: Fuck off Bea: I've got a life, thanks Fraze: Did have, before you fucked it, like Bea: Shut up Bea: Not funny Fraze: Not laughing Bea: Not what it sounds like from here Fraze: Well, you've got it wrong Bea: What else is knew Fraze: Your turn to sulk now then, yeah? Bea: thought you was being nice Fraze: Now who's gone soft? Bea: Fuck you then, gonna go back to icing you out, like Fraze: You reckon Bea: Yep Fraze: Gonna slam the door in my face, like Bea: Bold of you to assume I'm answering the door Fraze: Come on Fraze: You didn't want me to laugh a second ago, make your mind up Bea: Joking Bea: Keep up Fraze: Hilarious, of course Bea: Yeah, now you've got not nothing, not even a pity laugh Bea: Rude, tbh Fraze joined the chat 14 hours ago Fraze: Like you said, what else is new Bea: could pretend to be nice 'til you leave Bea: not asking for much Fraze: Could do, yeah Bea: Promising Fraze: Not tryhard, like? Fraze: Changing the rules to suit yourself again, babe Bea: You're so bloody awkward Fraze: Cheers Bea: Are you still moody or what? Bea: I've not got a clear enough head for this Fraze: Hanging too hard? Bea: Big time Bea: you reckon I was fucking up my life sober? Bea: little more credit Fraze: I thought you could handle the morning after, but that's too much credit clearly Bea: What can I say? Not an old pro like you Bea: not that this was your finest hour Fraze: Being away from the homeland is making you weak Bea: you reckon Bea: i should come to you then Fraze: You'll have to work harder than that to keep me away from your former bestie Bea: Yeah right Bea: as if that's happening regardless Fraze: Yeah right Bea: You've not been arsed to meet him so you aren't showing up now for a scrap Bea: I'm going back to Cambs so Bea: enjoy your reunion with Joe if you show up there, like Fraze: Fuck off Fraze: You're not funny, babe Bea: Who's joking Bea: Pure facts Fraze: Whatever Bea: ain't getting you nothing from the shops then Fraze: Don't act like you were gonna Bea: might've Bea: got a twofer in the perfume bit but I'll just treat myself x2 now Bea: 'cos I'm such a bitch, obvs Fraze: Again, if the cap fits like Fraze: Think on and buy your friend back Bea: Way ahead of you Bea: Not out for my health, am I Fraze: As per Fraze: I know, priorities Bea: talking to you, ain't i? reckon if i was really into him wouldn't be looking at my phone, yeah? Fraze: Not when you gotta play your cards closer to your chest after last night's fuck up Bea: Oh yeah Bea: playing it cool, like Fraze: Better late than never Bea: What's my master plan here then, like? Bea: be his beard for life Bea: not exactly what I had in mind Fraze: 'Cause he rejected you, he's gotta be gay, yeah? Bea: Duh Fraze joined the chat 2 hours ago Fraze: Whatever you say, babe Bea joined the chat 2 hours ago Bea: Not me who needs reassuring Fraze: First time for everything Bea: If its SUCH a struggle for you Bea: don't bother Fraze: Don't start that shit again Fraze: Christ Bea: Just saying Bea: If you're gonna be this moany Fraze: Don't Fraze: Trying to give me a headache to match yours like Bea: You ain't already? Fraze: It wasn't a challenge Fraze: No, I ain't Fraze: It's all woe's you Bea: Ook. Fraze: Get some hair of the dog on your date you'll be grand Bea: I dunno if the tea room in John Lewis is gonna be up to the challenge Fraze: Unlucky then Bea: as far as dates go Fraze: No shit Bea: good thing i'm just running errands really Fraze: Fair enough, gotta stay sober round that lad now you can't trust yourself like Fraze: Wouldn't wanna fuck up the making up with another kiss Bea: Yeah right, just can't help myself Bea: Is that actually what you think? Fraze: Fuck off Bea: Seriously? Bea: I thought you were joking Bea: you actually think I fancy him Fraze: Don't be an idiot Bea: You first, babe Fraze: What the fuck do you want from me, right now? Fraze: This ain't how I aspire to kick off my mornings Fraze: You got your bestie back. I'm thrilled for you Bea: To hear me! Bea: and yeah, to maybe give a shit Bea: I've never fancied anyone but you Fraze: Act like it then Bea: What else can I do? Fraze: Tell me what the fuck you need him for? Fraze: You've got me Bea: It's completely different Bea: it's just good to have someone a little more Bea: I don't know, impartial? Less...involved Bea: You know, you have friends Bea: That's all it is Fraze: Forget it Bea: No Bea: Don't Bea: when we're finally getting somewhere Fraze: To you making me look a cunt Fraze: Cheers Bea: No I ain't Bea: How is that what you take from that Fraze: What can I say, must be that thick, don't you reckon? Fraze: No worries. It is what it is Bea: Nah Bea: I'm not saying I don't want you to be those things Bea: but that's just you Bea: I'm saying, he ain't Fraze: And I'm saying, you never needed mates before Fraze: So what's different, him or me? Bea: Not like I had much say in the matter, was it? Fraze: I've just never been good enough from day one then, yeah? Fraze: You already spend all your time with those dossers. Fuck's sake Bea: Shut up, no! Bea: What do you want me to do, commute back every day? Bea: If it was feasible, I would Fraze: Jesus Fraze: You want me to have all the answers, but newsflash, red, I ain't Bea: Well, me neither Fraze: Nah Bea: So, what? 'Cos you ain't, you're just giving up, yeah? Fraze: Fuck you Fraze: I'm not a quitter Fraze: I'm still fucking here, ain't I? Bea: Are you? Bea: Prove it Fraze: I'm already getting a flight, what more do you want? Bea: Say you still love me Fraze: Of course I fucking do Bea: Not what you said last night Fraze: Last night I was drunk and angry Fraze: End of Bea: Alright Fraze: You're not the only one who gets to fuck up, you know Fraze: I still love you, Bea Bea: I know Bea: I love you Fraze: Prove it. Leave that twat to his own devices for a sec and call me Bea: [Calls] Fraze: I change my mind, you are funny Fraze: What's not to love, like Bea: It was you trying to make me laugh amongst other things in the middle a busy shop Fraze: You love it Bea: Yeah Bea: didn't need to change my mind there Fraze: Good. Enough of a battle getting here Bea: Shh Bea: Enough of that for one day Fraze: Yeah

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The dog days from summer season are actually precisely after our team, going by the variety of pesky pet dogs and individuals to become found gadding about in nooky-conscious neighborhoods from The U. If you enjoyed this write-up and you would such as to receive more details concerning mountains in scotland to climb (simply click the next internet site) kindly see our own web site. S.A.. If the game possessed one objective, one story, one ending, one reddish threat to adhere to, that will reduce the individuality of every players take in or even worse, this would say to those that have certainly not entirely recognized the video game or misunderstood that, that their point of views mistake as well as they rather must believe what the hivemind and/or maker have made that to imply. Yet our company actually possess enough overall, all-round put-downs, as well as our team don't need to switch pompous in to yet one more one, especially when this already possesses such a great certain significance. . Leo Silver, the northeast region agent has actually been actually attending the exact same useless rah rah treatments for 3 years and the appointments are actually constantly the same. I adore the ending of the game exceptionally despite the fact that eventually this's just a bonus. Which was actually achieved for a pair of year time period with me about HALF basics from the game simultaneously (you may certainly never truly get away from it) and also which functioned tremendously (type of) until the time her mom and also I divided. Many people have actually cultivated a steadfast canine consume canine" attitude about the globe, throwing stability to the wind for enhanced private increase. However, folks with bipolar II typically have persistent anxieties which can easily make adapting incredibly tough. That individual's pretentious use of terms hides the fact that they carry out not possess just about anything of substance to state. That's due to the fact that today (just like at that time), individuals misuse words ostentatious" all the damn time. 1st hint that you are actually certainly not business owner material ... is if you are looking for a quick and easy or even quick way to develop riches. The in video game anecdotal purpose from the island may be taken as the actual objective of the video game, if you prefer this to possess one. And also ill-treating the word ostentatious" is probably one of one of the most ostentatious factors an individual can possibly do. Second of all, the same speech all the time to folks that agree to occasionally pay attention, however have certainly not been actually certified, is actually a waste of time. Most people search their whole entire lifestyle for financial independence as well as certainly never discover that they have everything they actually need right before all of them. It's certainly not tough to see that it has a lot more ability to emphasize emotions in folks along with simply the colour orange vs an image of a tree. Entrepreneurs determine problems as well as begin focusing on their solution faster in comparison to other individuals. So I ONE HUNDRED% will The Witness a couple of times earlier, obtained this a few weeks back after reading through the meeting where he aspires to produce something like GR, I in fact mounted windows simply to play it. I'm certainly not a major puzzle individual and also this is definitely the very first new video game I've played in approximately 2 years. He goned on opportunity for his appointment, however was actually maintained awaiting 2 hours in a small hanging around room along with very old publications till he was called in. The very first step in beating your pompous designer inclinations is actually to determine all of them and acknowledge to all of them. If the video game had one target, one tale, one finishing, one reddish threat to adhere to, that will remove the uniqueness from every players experience or even much worse, this would certainly tell those that have certainly not totally know the video game or even misunderstood it, that their viewpoints are wrong as well as they as an alternative need to believe what the hivemind and/or designer have actually created this to mean. When he started out however he has gotten to an aspect where he spews saying will political statements that folks presently understand, Banksy was alright. Lots of people along with bipolar II perform certainly not experience hypersexuality, but it was actually coming to be a trouble for Wendy. Generally, whether or not a particular factor might be thought about ostentatious is dependent on the onlooker. Listed here's a summary of the game Take note, though, that the hyperlink may be a little swayed against the activity and its own designers. And difficult though this might be to take, being actually pompous belongs of exactly what our team perform on a daily basis. Sorry to differ so absolutely but it kills me that this polluted an activity that is actually or else therefore spectacular that it sets a completely brand new specification. I wish that you'll adore me enough to accomplish 1, 2, 3 and also 4 when my ego gets out of control. Pretension specifies the amateur against the specialist in an activity rigged by practice, qualifications as well as institutional commendation. This is actually not a ready anybody that dislikes that when things are actually left unanswered and those that do have problem finding their very own account during the course of the method of playing the game. Lots of people are actually much also vulnerable concerning this sensation, and also this is actually perhaps a tension to possess, but it's quite hard to subsist disappear. The chrysanthemum is among one of the most resistant cut floral and it are going to decorate your residence for a long period of time, more than 2 weeks. She usually went to bed around 3 a.m. as well as will get out of bed at 7 a.m. sensation energized for her day at school. Take a great consider the developers you admire and also look up to. You'll possibly discover that the majority of the best designers around do not use pompous labels, but rather use headlines that effectively illustrate just what they perform. Also those who perform use exciting headlines commonly accomplish this in an incredibly tongue-in-cheek method and do this in limited amounts. I experienced this whole article as well as I was ready to write a complete reaction half way with the very first paragraph however then much more recognized that you are actually very bented on a different point of view compared to I presumed you would certainly have as well as I desire to make a comment on aspects that rely on different player experience and also desires, two factors that I could certainly not and would certainly certainly not would like to alter in any individual that believes that this video game is actually pretentious or even making an effort also hard. To propose a person is pretentious is to claim they are actually acting in ways they are actually not gotten approved for via take in or economical status". As the most effective treatment, cut the stalk till the environment-friendly part, placed this in high flower holder, filled up simply for 3 quarts with water as well as incorporate a decline from whitening element. Without the consents it provides - the permit to attempt brand-new knowledges, to trying out suggestions, to see if you wish to live your lifestyle yet another method - people from all type of histories are going to not be left open to distinction, to originalities or the backgrounds of their opted for field. It is actually not something numerous individuals perform when they wake up in the morning, and also like you claimed, with photographs they may be performed in various techniques to possess different colours and illumination. Individuals are actually certainly not simulating on their own, rather, their being located urbanity is actually stepping on throughout your plain-speaking reality. Leo recognized something was actually going on, however he really did not have a clue as to exactly what this Onslaught was about. Every era has performers" that typically aren't really performers but only pretentious tryhards, nowadays we just possess easier methods to discover them.