#the stars mean that its definitely wrong

[elle-p]

AI: 石田彰と、緒方恵美の

AI&MO: ペルソナ3、影時間ラジオ

AI: さあ、時刻は深夜0時になりました。なんかみたいな始まり方ですね。

MO: 本当だね。

AI: 1日と1日の狭間にある隠された時間「影時間」よりお送りするラジオ番組。こんばんは、「ペルソナ3」結城理役の石田彰です。

MO: こんばんは。アシスタントの、天田乾役の緒方恵美です。

AI: なんか、アシスタントの強調しませね。

MO: いや、だってこ、アシスタントですわたくし。

AI: はい…。

MO: あの、石田さんのアシスタントですね。務めさせていただきたい。

AI: ちょ、ちょ、ちょ、まあ、番組冒頭で止めるのもなんだけど。

MO: おう、おう、おう。

AI: あの…なんでそんなに、じ私は今回アシスタントだよって言うポジションを、強調しようとするので。一緒に当て行こうよ！

MO: じゃ、なんかなんか、なんだっけ。最初に、あの、この、あの、酸素も。*

AI: はい。

MO: あの、なんだ、えっと、舞台説、で、あの、またじゃないですか？

AI: はい。

MO: 京都で、あの…お酒を飲み行った時にですね。はい。

AI: まあ、舞台挨拶の時じゃなくてね。

MO: そうそうそうそう。お酒は？

AI: 舞台挨拶シラフでやってますよ、僕ら真面目に。

MO: まずいけそうで、普通、私、そういうこともありな感じじゃないですか。*

AI: いや、ない、ない、言ってるんじゃないですか？

MO: そうですね。そうですね。

AI: ね？

MO: ちゃんとね、その時は大丈夫ですねさあの前日ね。えぇ、お酒飲んでた時に。あのさ、あのー…「アニプレックス」ですね、褒美の時に。なんかその、なにか終わりたと、その第四章に行く前の最後まで、最後だから。そのなんか打ち上げ的なこと。打ち上げ花火的なこと、何かやりたいと。や例えばラジオとか、みたいな話って、「いいですね」って話をし。石田さんをやってくれるでしょうか話になり、ん、ん、「たぶんやって、やってくれると思うよ」みたいなことをゆって。

MO: そう、なんかそうなな判事で、多分なんか、あの、ん…なんか…なんかその…石田君のパーソナリティするために何か。盛り上げ、られたらいいねみたいな話をこう、言っていて。それでなんか話の流れで、あの、アシスタントというのはって話になって。それは私の…なんかこう…まある程度の点数を、こうこの業界でやってきたですけども。かつて一度もアシスタントというポジションになったことがないと。言う話をしたら方日が、アシスタント、いいじゃないですかみった話しに。あ、そうだね、っていう話になり、じゃあ、私は？

AI: があったんですね。

MO: すみません。*

AI: あぁ。

MO: アシスタントして喋りすぎでしょうだね？すみません。

AI: でも、なんかー…緒方さんが、それだけ…ボリュームのある話をしてくると、僕はのんびりしていである。

MO: いいえ、何出るそれわ？

AI: もう、ナイスアシスト！

MO: いやいや。もうね、ちょっと今回ね、いろんな石田くんからね。なんかこうコメント引き出そうとね。えぇ、数仕掛けをですね、いろいろとね。 なんか用意してくれてる、わけですよ。仲いいね。はいはい。

AI: 二人で、二人でしっかり作っていこう？影時間ラジオ。

MO: 何だよそれ？えぇ、まあ、あの、そうですね。しっかりとやらせて頂きたいと思いますよ。

AI: はい。

MO: はい。

AI: ですね。まあ、な、まあ、本当に何の事前の告知もなく、この番組を始めるわけなので。

MO: 本当ですね。

AI: あの、あのー…現時点で、もう、0時ちょっと何分すぎ？のこの時点で、いってな人気づいて聞いてるんだろうっていう不安はありますよね。

MO: そうですね。

AI: はい。

MO: なんか、怖ってて、アクセスさっとっていうのも、殺到して、あの、「アニプレックス」なんなんかサイトが落ちたとかっていうのはまあ一つのありがとうむんですけど、あのー…あれですよね、誰もいないとか？

AI: まあ、それ、それがね、あの、ゼロゼロ秒地点ではありえるからね。

MO: そうだよね？

AI: そうだよ。

MO: あぁ。まあ、我々もですねこうやって喋りながらですね…えっと、どのぐらいの分量で、えっと、あとどのぐらいしゃべればというのは絶対分からないまま、はい、はいですけどね。はい。

AI: まあまあまあ。

MO: えぇ、まあまあ、そんなわけででもまあ、多分聞いてくれてるでしょう。

AI: まあ、そうですね。

MO: はい。

AI: まあ、そういうことを、なんか、いの理想であることを祈りつつ、なんか、孤独に喋っていきましょう。

MO: 大丈夫。あ、そうですね。孤独に！なんか、交会して、交会していつもこんなコン者だ。*

AI: ごめんね。僕がね、メインでって喋らせるとね、すごいネガティブ、ネガティブに入っているからね。そこ、あの…緒方さんがポジティブに持っていて。

MO: お、おう。なんか…

AI: お願いしますね。

MO: う、う、うん、えぇ、そうですね。えぇ、分かりました。

AI: はい、よろしくお願いします。

MO: わか、これでいいのが本当に！はい。

AI: 大丈夫です。さてさて。あのー、まあ、あの、「ペルソナ3」の「影時間ラジオ」と言っていて、で。この番組を聞いてる人で「「影時間」って何？「ペルソナ3」って何？」って人はまずいないとは思いますが！

MO: そうです。ラジオに置いてありますからね。*

AI: はい。

MO: これで知らなかった何したって感じですね。

AI: まあー。まあ、でも、世の中には色んな人がいるから「あ！」なんか何かの間違えで効いてしまっている人もいるかもしれないので、そういう方に向けてちょっと「ペルソナ3」を説明しなきゃいけないだそうですよ。

MO: そうですね。すみませんありがとうございます。

AI: はい、えーっと、皆さんがお聞きの、この、ネットラジオ番組の元になっている「ペルソナ3」というのはですね。

MO: はい。

AI: あの…2006年に「Playstation 2」用のゲームソフトとして…生まれました。

MO: え？そんなまいもんやろ？

AI: 本当そんなまいなんだよ。

MO: え？本当に？

AI: なんかすごいね時間の経つのは早いな。今日までに何回の満月を迎えたんだろうね。

MO: よくけどね。やめてもそういうふうよ。えっと、九年かける、え？22、22、18日…かける12。12？

AI: あの、満計算しなくていいから。まあ、あの、それだけ昔に、えぇ、出たソフトなんですけれども。その2006年から七年後の2013年からはですね。「PERSONA3 THE MOVIE」として、劇場公開の。アニメーション作品が。作られることになりまして、今まで散策。えぇ…公開されているんですね。

MO: はい、そうですね。

AI: はい。もうね、ゲーム作品が、劇場アニメーションとして作られるなんて、本当に幸せなことですよ。全部…

MO: 部作だよ同作でよ。*

AI: もうそうなんです。

MO: そうですね…。

AI: 3分、工作…なんか、公開されてるってことは、あと、一つ？ますですか？

MO: なんかその今、えっと、第三章が、えぇ、4月の4日。から、えっと、公開されたんですけど。まだなんか、今の時点でまだ、ちょっとかかってる劇場さんがあるという。ありがとうございます。

AI: おー、本当にありがとうございます。

MO: はい、はい。 AI: え。で…この…まあ、でも、もうそろそろ終わるじゃないですか。

MO: はい。

AI: で、次の作品を楽しみにしている方も大勢いると思うんですよ。

MO: はい。ということ、本日ですね。みなさんにアクセスしてくださった皆さんはもはや、あの、お目に留まっていると思いますけれども。本日、えぇ、公式サイトみたですね、新しい情報が公開さありがとうございますた。「PERSONA3 THE MOVIE」これ…第四章ですね。「Winter of Rebirth」。

AI: *

MO: いやいやいや。いやいやいや、「Winter of、of Rebirth」。はい。

AI: というわけでですね。

MO: はい。

AI: まあ、あの、予測をしていた方も大勢、いらっしゃるかもしれませんが。*春、夏あ来てるので。冬です今回。

MO: まあ、そうですね。まあ、だいたいウィンター作ることはみんなわかったと思うけどね。でもこの、このあれですね、その、まあ、それで、えっとー、あのー、ティザービジュアル…がですね。やっぱりあの今回、上がったわけなんですけど。美しいですね、これね。

AI: これがねー、あの、ウィンターって就いてる割には春っぽいよね。なんか花びら富んでいて、俺桜なのかなー。うん、なんかは、花びらが舞うっていうと、やっぱり桜を連想するよね？梅かな、ひょっとして？

MO: いや、桜で。梅じゃない、梅じゃないと思う。

AI: ちょっと早めの季節かもしれないじゃん。冬にちょっと��若干でも近くなるようにみたいだね。

MO: なねだと多分2月ぐらいになるかもしれないけどね。

AI: あぁ。ね、牡丹の花びるかもしれない。

MO: ぼ、牡丹有しない。*

AI: 冬だから。*

MO: まじその牡丹とかに従う、あ、牡丹、牡丹手、うえ、え、冬だっけ？*

AI: あの、寒い時の話じゃなかったでしたっけ？あの…ほんわかした記憶で喋ってますけどね。まあまあまあ。

MO: まあまあまあまあ。はい。

AI: で、それで…まあ、なんか…理くんがですね。なんか…いい、いい視線を画面の外に向けてたってくれてますね、これね。

MO: はい。

AI: いいえですね。

MO: ですね。*

AI: うん。

MO: あの、第三章��一番最後ね？あの、綾時くんでしからね？

AI: はい。

MO: はいはい。

AI: まあ…綾時のあの最後の一言がどういう風に、第四章に関わってきて、どういう話になると、こういうティザービジュアルになるのかというのですね。皆さん想像していただきたいわけですよ。

MO: そうですね。まあ、三女の終わりも、まあ、ここも。当たり前石田くんだというね。ところですね。謎なコメント投げたのもあなたですように。

AI: 謎なコメント？

MO: あ、いいえ、あの、綾時くんが。

AI: あぁ、まあ。あのー、作品の中で僕は…結城理と焼くと望月綾時という早くやらせていただいておりますからね。

MO: もこね。*

AI: あぁと、あの、ファルロスをね。

MO: はいはい。

AI: ファルロスくんもやらせていただいた、ファルロス第四章出るのかな、ってばるのかな、どうなんだろう？まだ取ってないんですね、これが。 MO: そう、我々も全然分かりません。この第四章ですけどね。あの、「Winter of Rebirth」でサブタイトル、がついてるんですが。監督、ごですね、第二章の、えぇ、監督のですね。田口監督がですね、再登板されるということですね。田口監督、あの、書動物のため、田口監督。

AI: そうですね。もう…あの、変なイメージをつけてしまっては、監督に対して失礼かと思う、思うんですけど。田口監督と言えば、ラブホ。

MO: あ、そうですね、すみません。あのね、ま、もう。第二章……

AI: もう、もう、散々このネタこすってるから、あの、今更感は、否めないんだけど。

MO: 多分、多分、このは、この話は、我々が多分舞台挨拶よくしてきたって、舞台挨拶見てない方はね。あの、あ、違うわあのあれだ、第二章の、あの、オーディオコメンタリーでも喋りましたよね。

AI: あ、そうですね。そんな話しましたね。

MO: 第二章の冒頭に、ラブホシーンが出てきてですね。その監督がそれをこう取材に行ったと。誰と行ったんだ、って話とか。まあいろんな話をですね。ずっと、あの…あの…ね。えっと、舞台ツアーの時の話をさせていただいたです。

AI: そうですよ。だから、その田口監督が第四章…のために、一体今度はどこに取材に行くのかね。気になるよね。

MO: うんうん、そうね。ラブホのことが何かあるだろうか？何か、何かろうかな？

AI: なんだろうね、あの…全国にさ、昔はあった評価的なところって、どんどん決まっちゃってるから、今残ってるのかな？

MO: 評価出したいんですかなこのペースの中。

AI: いや、出て来るかもしれないじゃない？

MO: そうですね…。まあ、でもあの、あれなん田口監督はまあ、なんその可哀想だったその、ラブホの話をしてた時に。

AI: はい。

MO: あの、田口監督初めての舞台挨拶で監督として。まあ、��の、監督として初めてなので、あの、舞台挨拶初めてで、で初めての舞台挨拶で、あの、お母さん、たちがいらっしゃる時にラブホの話、でも折形四ですよね。*

AI: そうですね。まあ、ちょっとあの…可哀想っていうー気もしないでもないですけど。男はね。仕事に向かう時はね。やらなきゃいけないことがあるんですよ。

MO: あ、そうですか。

AI: そうですよ。

MO: 石田さんもなんか取材に、行ったりするんですか？

AI: 僕も必要とあれば、地方官に行きますよ。

MO: 地方官。

AI: 地方官でもラブホでも。あのー、今度第四章でそういうシーンがあるっていうんであれば行きますよ。

MO: なるほど。

AI: 事前にね。

MO: あぁ。

AI: はい。

MO: そうですね。皆さんの、今のところ、ちょっと、あの、結構マットとか使わないよろしくお願いします。

AI: マットと何。

MO: あ、いいですよ、あの、ネット上のね。

AI: あぁ、なんか、なんか、一時倒される的なこと？

MO: 何の話をして、まあ、まあ、真夜中のラジオだからいいだろう別にな。えぇ、でもひどい、監督一番最初に、家族ごめん、ごめん。なんか一番最初の紹介からラブホの話になってとごめん。えぇ、まあ、とりあえず、あの、空感じの。ひどい。

AI: それが、なんかアシスタントとして優秀ですね！

MO: なぜ優秀なんか？*

AI: なんか、話を、話をなんとかまともな方向に軌道修正しようと言う。

MO: いやいやいや。

AI: ナイスアシストですよ。

MO: あの、ちょっととりあえずね。あのあれですよね。まあ、ちょっと真夜中ラジオなんでいろんなことを簡便させていただいてですね。まあ、そんなわけでですね。あの、リスナーの皆さんからのメッセージを。ラジオ欲しいわけなんですけど、他に何の告知なしに入れ始めた番組なんで。お便りがありません。

AI: まったくですよ。これがね、あの、ちょっと、ちょっとなんか、ずるい大人がーねスタッフにいたりすると、じゃああの作家さんに作ってもらいましょうか？的なね。そういうこともあるかもしれませんが、この番組に関しては正直に行きます。あの…告知もしてないので。

MO: そうですね。

AI: あの…だから、僕に喋らせると、こういうネガティブなことしか言わないので。

MO: よく分かってます大丈夫ですよ。まあ、そんな感じですねお便りがないわけです。まあ、それは、あの、マックということで、我々潔くですね。えぇ、最初からお話させていただいたわけなんですが。その代わり、この番組スタート聞き付けたですね、「ペルソナ3」の、関係者の皆さんから、メッセージが届いております。

AI: はい、みなさんからの、メッセージをばあさんいただいてまいりまして、本当にありがとうございます。

MO: ありがとうございます。その、えぇ、関係者の皆さんからね。ややこう、う、うちはそんなことないですね。あの…

AI: 最初だからね。いただきたしょうがないよ。*

MO: はい、ご紹介させていただきたいます。はい。えぇ、まずはですね、「アニプレックス」宣伝の方日です。はい。石田さんはこんばんは。

AI: こんばんは。

MO: こんばんは。次にお2人のラジオがスタートするということで。 本当にうれし、そして楽しみに感じています。これまで、劇場版「ペルソナ3」の舞台挨拶では何度もお2人とご一緒させていただきましたが。毎回どの会場でもmcの仕事を忘れてしまうくらい楽しませて、いただきました。これからは、満月の夜に「ペルソナ3」ファンの皆さんとその気持ちが共有できると思うと、今からワクワクが止まりません。ぜひいろいろなお話をお聞かせください。それは、第四章の公開に向けて。えいえい、オー！

AI: 「えいえいオー」なの？「えいえいオー」なんですか？

MO: その方日ね。メッセージくれたんだけどね��実は何んです。

AI: そのね。

MO: ありがとうござ。あの、雨で急だったんだの？構成作家さんが来れなかったの。これなくてね。

AI: ちょっと緒方さんさ、なんか人のことをなんか番組のなんか裏側のネガティブなことばかり言っていうって、そいうところをばらしてもいいの？ね。

MO: いや。だってもう。だから。*

AI: 人がにの側にいないって。*

MO: え、えぇ、まあ、あの、だ、だ、だ、だってじゃあなんで方日。方日はだから心配して何だよね。*

AI: そうですね。いつも世話なっております。っていうか、今この場にいらっしゃるんだったら、自分でなんか、あの…頂いてもよかったのに、このメッセージ。

MO: そうですよね。

AI: はい。

MO: あの、え…

AI: あの、ジェスチャーでどうぞ進めてください的な？

MO: あぁ…なんか、テリアさんです。

AI: そうですね。まあ、あの…方日さんに会いたいという人はですね、あの…劇場版の第四章公開の際には、また舞台挨拶が設定されるかもしれません。その時には、あのー…ね？また司会として。来てくださると思うので、皆さんぜひ。公開の時にはですね。どこで、どこで何日に、舞台挨拶があって方日が来るのをチェックしていただきたい。*

MO: 方日チェック？

AI: そう。

MO: そうですね。方日外とね、あの、あれなんです私たちもそうなんですけど。豊口めぐみが、やたら喜ぶんですよね。

AI: 謎なの。

MO: なんか、舞台あいさつで方日をいじることに命をかけてます。あの…そうですよね？いやいやいやいやいや、そうでしただよ。はい、まあ…でも、あの、楽しい旅手ですね舞台挨拶ね。*

AI: そうですね。いろんなとこ行かせていただきましたし。

MO: はい。

AI: え。

MO: はい。

AI: またどっか行けるのを楽しみに、ております。さあ！えーっと、また、あの、カ、カウント、先ほども話し出てましたけど、カウントさんからもメッセージをいただいてるんですよ。

MO: はい、そうです。えぇ…田口智久とから、頂いこいます。

AI: はい。

MO: 『石田さんはさんに質問です！えぇー、声優になったばかりの頃、自分の声を録音したものを聴くことに違和感はありましたか？あった場合、その違和感は、消えていくものなのでしょうか？』

AI: なんでしょう、この世界*？

MO: *どうだなんですけど、これ最初の旅なんですよ、監督。これ、これでいいのこのお便りが？え？まあいや。

AI: なんかさ、こ、今度第四章は、自分が監督を務めるので、どうっていうアプローチでもないし。なんか…あの…ね、「ペルソナ3」第二章の監督としてご一緒しましたけれど、あの時は、あーでしたねっていうアプローチでもなく。

MO: ただ、私達に、あの、声を重ねる一時。はい、ありがとうございます監督。通貨、声来たということは、監督は、自分の録音された声に、なんか納得いかなかったんだよきっと、オーディオコメンタリーとか聞いたときとかに。

AI: あぁ、その時ね、あ、はいはいはい。あ、それは分かります。あの、納得いくもんじゃないです。僕なんか、あ、そうです。緒方さんもそうなんじゃないですか？

MO: え、え、うん。え、今なんの話してる、オーディオコメンタリーの話や？*

AI: オーディオコメンタリーじゃなくて、最初に自分の、喋ってる声を、なんか？僕らの頃はカセットテープですよ。カセットテープに録音して、それを聞いた時に。「あれ？自分の声こんなの」って、思ったんですよ。でそれが。

MO: も、あの、頭蓋骨、落とした、おとが、自分の耳わ気筒てるんで、あの、客観的な音っていうのは、実際の、録音した、声と違って聞こえ、やし��ですね。

AI: そう。

MO: はいはい。

AI: だからね。

MO: *

AI: あの、番最初は衝撃だったし。未だに、こんなに差があるんだっていうの？思う。

MO: 未だに！？

AI: 未だに思う。

MO: いいま慣れるよ少ないと思うこんだけ。*

AI: まあ、あの、そう。

MO: え？

AI: 慣れるっていうか諦めてる、もうすでに。

MO: え？なんでなんで？諦めるってことは何なの？その、嫌がと思っても。

AI: いや、あの、自分がさ、あの、だから、から越しに、椎骨越しに聞いてる、声の出し方、こんなトーンでこういう喋り方をしようっていうのと、あのー…なんかテレビをとうして聞こえてくるの、との差があるから。こんなつもりじゃなかった。

AI: え、こ…このをとう出していたのっていうか、全体的になんか、ちょっと…ずれてるよねっていう…のは？

MO: ズレてるのか分かんないなだけなんですけど、いや、でも、み、みんなそ、そんなどういうことですか？納得いかないですか？あの、ファンの皆さんもきっとこう、今しゃべってる石田くんの声聞きたくてきてるのにだね、それがずれると言われる一体どうしたら？*

AI: あのー…ほかの人、僕以外の人にとっては、あのー、聞きなれたこの声何でしょうけど、僕は今だに��やです。いやいやいやいや、いやじゃなくて。あぁ、なんか、もう一人、僕がいてくれたらいいなあと思って。

MO: う、うん。

AI: 僕が、隣に立って、僕がしゃべってる声を聞いて、あ、こいう声っていうの耳元で。喋り続けてくれたら、いいなあと思って。

MO: あぁ…。でも、例えばこうやって、あの、多分スタジオで話してる時に。

AI: 何？

MO: あのー、ヘッドホンで、聞こえてくるじゃないですか、自分の声が？そ、それも違和感 なの？

AI: あの、それとはまた若干違わない。

MO: まあ、なんか違う気がするけどね。

AI: 録音したものは後？

MO: 混じったよ、多分ちょっとね。

AI: なんかね、それ、ヘッドフォンでリアルタイムで今聞いてるの声とはまた、違う感覚なんだな。それがな。監督綿いました。*

MO: 監督ですね、監督ですね。あのー、結論的にはですね。違和感はずっと今も続いているということでございます。

AI: 僕はね？

MO: はい。え。

AI: ほかの人はみんななれると思いますよ。そうそうにね。

MO: まあ、そうですね。私はでも役は、なんかね、あの、あんまりこういうを出そうと思ってあんまり演技してないのでほとんど時に。ただテレビで聞こえてきたのが、あ、こういう感じなのかなって思う。だけで終わりっていう感じ…ですかね？まあ、諦めて、て諦めてなんか、すみません。はい。まあ、そんなわけですね。加藤、ありがとう。

AI: ありがとうございます。

MO: 本当ちゃんとした挨拶にしてね。よろしくね、はい。えぇ、そして次ですね。えぇ、アニメーションプロデューサーな、「A-1 Pictures」の、えぇ、土修一さんから、頂きました。

AI: ありがとうございます。

MO: はい、ありがとうございます。辻さんです。『石田さんは質問です。色のついたアフレコと、色のついていないアフレコどちらがやりやすいですか？』

AI: だよ？

MO: こ、これさ、こういう…コメント、なげと大丈夫なんですか？あの、大丈、なんか、今、あの、今、えっと、向こう側のね？あの、コントロールルームの方を見るとですね。いろんな方々を向いたりですね。手を振ったりとかしてるんですけど？

AI: でも、あ、まあ、あのー…リスナーの人にはな��みないかもしれないけど、まあ、僕にとっては、えの…ない、色ついてないあ、これはもう当たり前の事になってるじゃないですか。まあ「ペルソナ3」に限らず。

MO: えぇ、あ、まあ、大体わかってると思いますけど、まあ色が付いているっていうのは、まあいわゆるこう、オンエアとか、皆さんがお目に、目にするその、カラーが入ってる、絵のことで。えっと、私たちはだいたいゴロ…まあ、アフレコするときは。全部が、100%入ってるってことは。あんまりなくて、ごくたまにあるけど。あんまりなくて、あのー…なんてですかね、根底に描かれた絵とか、現場の絵とか、まそういうものがこう入っていたりね。えぇー、そういう感じでですね、えぇ、飛ぶことがあるということですね。

AI: はい。

MO: はい。まあこれ…どちらがやりやすいですかって…？言われればまあー、あのー、もちろん入ったほうがいいですけど。いやや。

AI: 僕も、あのー…色づいたほうがいいと思いますよ。あの皆さん、分かりづらいかもしれないですけど、まあ、あのー…まあ、その根底とか、あの…えっと…動画になる前の、あたりをつけるための絵とか。で、あのー…ま僕らが作業するようなフィルムの、フィルムじゃないかもういまは、えたを作って、動画を作って、もらっても、あの、その、動きのタイミングとか、あのー、表情とかは、あのー、皆さんが見る段階のものと違ったり、往々にして違ったりするわけですよ。

MO: うん。

AI: うん、で、それがね、あのー…目が、色が付いてるってことは、ちゃんと動画…が…できてて。

MO: はい。

AI: っていうことなので、あのー…そこはね、どちらがやりやすい…やりやすいやりにくいよりも、情報量の多さっから。色づいてるほうが絶対いいに決まってますよね。

MO: まあ、そうですよね。あの、これを、わざわざ聞かれる、あの、辻さんの、なんか、真鍮、私、今は兼ねていていて。あの、どういうところを狙って来られるのかなってちょっと知りたいんですけど。あでも、個人的に、私個人のまた個人の意見だけど。あの、なんかこう…たまに？まあ、別にどこのっていうことを言うんですけど、たまに？この…タイミングは人間の反応として無理だろうみたいなこう時間で、口パクがついてたりとかが、あるじゃないですか。

AI: はい。

MO: それで、あ、これでやんなきゃいけないのか。っていうふうになって、もう、色入っちゃってるから、撮影はもうやり直さないだろうし。これで当てなくてはならないで、のかって思うよりは、なんかこう…なんつ…少しや。フリーな。

AI: あぁー。

MO: ありがとう。監督とかが。

AI: がっちりが決まってないと、まだ焼成が聞く、からっていうことだよね。

MO: そうそう。たまにこう監督が、あ、今の芝居が良いのでえの方直しますと言ってくださったじゃないですか。*

AI: 確かに。

MO: そ、そういう意味ではね、その。*

AI: なるほどね。それはありますね。

MO: はい。なんか、もう、もう劇場作品みたいでね。なんか…結構…我々のフリーダムみたいな、のありますしね。

AI: あ、それは、本当にこう…その作品を作る監督の考え方によるんだろうね。

MO: はい、そうですね。

AI: まあ、あの…どちらも、まあ…どちらもメリットあるし、デメリットがあるってことですか。

MO: あ、そうですね。

AI: あぁ。あ、それを、なんか、役者があってわがままだから、なんか…やっぱり人がついたほうがいいとか、こう…経験に行ってしまうのを。プロデューサーの、生産は。そこに気づけを…！

MO: あ。映画、そこで…

AI: 揃ってない時でも、メリットあるんだぞ、そこに気づけよっていうメッセージだったのかな、これね？

MO: なるほど…。

AI: うん。

MO: こう…ありがとうございます持参。

AI: ですね。

MO: 今、そういうこと。*

AI: ためになるな？

MO: なんてせ？為じゃなくてこう、今、リスナーの皆さんのためになってます。俺らはそうなんだけどさ。

AI: リスナーさんは？へ？と思ってると思う。

MO: 多分、そうですね、ごめんね。*

AI: ポカーンとしてると思うよ。

MO: 超ごめんね、あの、そういうのがわかりませんでしたというよりも、募集してるんであのぜひ送ってください。はい。えぇ、そうですね、もうひとりこれ、あ、もうひとり人っていうか、会社単位で、いただいたんですけど、「アトラス」さんからいただきました。 アトラスさん、どなたというじゃなくて、アトラス？はい。『「影時間ラジオ」のスタートおめでとうございます。石田様、緒方様のお引き立てにより、硬い。え、えぇ、「ペルソナ3」が長らく愛されるゲームになりましたこと、この場を借りて改めて感謝申し上げます。今後とも「ペルソナ3」ズをよろしくお願い申し上げます。』

AI: いや、もう、いかにも会社、名義、のコメント、ありがとうございます。

MO: 本当にありがとうございます。はい。 AI: あのー…いろいろお忙しいところ。あの、番組始まるんでってお願いしたんでしょう？おそらくねえ。

MO: はい。

AI: えぇ、そしたら、あの…ここまでかっちりと、会社としてかっちりとなんか？してくださっても、これはなんでしょうね、こう取引先だと、僕らが取引先だとしたらもう、百点満点じゃないですか？

MO: うん、うん、そうですね。

AI: この、このコメントは。

MO: こやっぱり

AI: まあ、ラジオに折れるコメントどうしてわ、ん？*だけど。

MO: *一番それっぽいのコピーの「えいえいお」ーだと思いますけどね、え。まあでも、あの、監督もね、こういう、あの、なんかこう、ちょっと、ちょっと変化球のような。ご挨拶を飛ばした、あの、くださったり。あの、まあでも最後な「アトラス」でこうきちんとくださったり、本当にありがとうございました。

AI: ありがとうございました。

MO: はい。えぇー、まあ、そんなわけですね。研究者のみなさんのおかげ、でございました。え、次回からは、今、このラジオ聞いてる、皆さんからメッセージ、本当に、お待ちしておりますよ。

25:19

AI: ペルソナ3、影時間ラジオ

AI: どうでもいい。

MO: 石田さん演習、結城理といえば「どうでもいい」というセリフが印象的ですが。このコーナーでは、リスナーの皆さんが普段の生活で気になっていることを募集しまして、それを石田さんにその話題が気になるのか、「どうでもいいのか」、をですね、していただくと、そういうコーナーですね。はい。

AI: 思い切ったことをやりますね。僕、最低のこと、「どうでもいい」と思ってますよ。

MO: うん、あのね。私もね。それがね、不安だったと。ずっとね。このね、この第よね思ってなんかね。これ石田くん全部「どうでもいい」って言ったじゃないかね？なんかの…今日未荒れた言う事むしろ機出すの、本当に大変と思いつつ。あのー…

AI: だから、あのー…正直に「どうでもいい」と言い続けていいのか、それとも、大人としてね？こう番組が成立するように多少降った方がいいのか。よくありますよ的なことに。*

MO: う、うん。あのー…

AI: どうしようって、まだ立ち位置がぼんやりしている。

MO: あ、うん。じゃぼんやりしてる人と行きたいと思います。

AI: おう。

MO: そのどっち混じっ��いればいいよ。えぇ、とりあえず。行ってみたいと思いますよ。

AI: はい。

MO: はい。こに書いてある例文をですねて上げ、てまあ、要は、えっと、リスナーの皆さんがね。えぇ、これからどういう風な、もの、この、コーナーに送ったらいいのかなっていうのこう例文みたいながね。えぇ、いくつかありますそっちのほうですねぇー…ぶつけさせていただきたいと思います。えぇ、まずわ。『上目遣いだとかわいい何。なぜ、下目遣いだと、怖く、なるのか？どうですか買わない、興味ありますか、どうでも、いいですか？』

AI: どうでもいい。

MO: 絶対そう、何人向かって。*

AI: な、何？下目遣いって、何？

MO: 下目遣い多分、多分…

AI: うは目遣いはいむけど。し…

MO: うは下こう、下から、見上げる感じで。

AI: それわさ…

MO: 下目遣いをこう、見上げる感じでとでしょう。*

AI: 下目遣いことであるの…

MO: わからない。だよ！あるよ！そうだね。確かに示すなんて聞いたことないね。んー…。

AI: まあ、あの…下目遣いだと怖くなるのがなぜですかって言わでも、そういう角度だからじゃないの？

MO: まあね、そうですよね。

AI: と思いますけどね。

MO: まあまあ、でも、あの…アニメとかのね、作画の皆さんのね。それに、こうキャラクターをね、描き分けたりとかする。

AI: あぁー。

MO: 必要がありますからね。

AI: それ、あの…

MO: 正確かつ。

AI: わかりやすくこう、状況を説明しなきゃ、いけないからね。そういう…パッと…こう…万人に通じる…フォーマットっていうのそうかもしだないですね。

MO: はい、そうですね。はい。えぇ…まあ、そういうでした。え、そして、僕、行きましょうかね？はい。それではですね…。あの、『靴ひもって、どんなタイミングで、ほどけるのか？という話題について、興味ありますかどうでもいいですか？』

AI: ちょっと興味あるかも。

MO: 本当！？本当！？それが何どこ、どうで興味？

AI: いやいや、��の、靴ひものほどけるタイミングって。なんか…不思議じゃない？黄色いまでは、ほどけなかったのになんで今日このタイミングでどけの？で、言ったんほどけると、何回縛ってもすぐ解けない。

MO: うん、そうだね。なんかそういうこと、あるよね。

AI: なんか、緒方さんのほが逆に興味をなくしてる感じなん*

MO: いやいやいや。*

AI: 大丈夫ですか。

MO: はい、大丈夫です。はい。

AI: はい。

MO: えぇ。そ、その時間について。

AI: まあだから、靴ひもがほどける、その、その今ほどけるっていうのを見たことないじゃない。ほどけた後に気づくじゃない？普通は。

MO: まあそうだね。

AI: だから、今ほどけそうだって特に、分かってれば、締め直したりするじゃない。もどける前に。っていうか、あの…し、縛ってる紐って、なんでほどけるなれ？

MO: …う、動くっ彼粉、し元があるからじゃね。

AI: まあ、まあ、そうなんだけど、あのさ、普通に、あの、蝶々結びをし、したとしてだよ。…あんなこう輪っか作って一般ほどしてみたいな縛り方をしてて、それがほどけるためには、徐々に徐々に輪っかが小さくなっていかなきゃいけないわけじゃない。*

MO: そうだね。

AI: …それってさ、あの…あと、あとなんだろう…は…直径5mmぐらいの輪っかになっちゃったなって特に気づけば。戻せるのに。そこで気づくことって無いじゃ。

MO: まあね？あんまりこう足元見ないですからね、歩いてる足元ね。なんか、まあ泊まった時はあんまりこう、そ、あと、ほどけるタイミングではないでしょうし。だいたい、時にほどけるでしょうから。そこなかなか確かに、難し、ね？*

AI: だから、その…いつなんだっていうのは？いつだろうと思うとちょっと興味わかない？

MO: あぁ…確かにそうですね。あの、どこかのメーカーの方にお知らせ機能付の靴下なんか外？して頂いてですね。

AI: 今ですよ！今ほどけますよ！

MO: そのできたらぜひあの石田明くん宛てにですね、送っていただけたらと思います、はい。感じですね、みなさんから。

AI: 要求してないんじゃないだけどね？

MO: まあ、まあまあ、とりあえずね。まあこんな感じでですね。みなさんから、石田さんが「どうでもいい」と。言わないような。これ難しい。「俺が思いつかないまず。」はい。あの、首で言わないようなですね、気になるようですね。*降ってきていただきたいと思います。お待ちしております。

30:40

MO: ペルソナ3、影時間ラジオ

AI: おたすけ部！

AI: 僕が演じる結城理と、同じく、僕が演じる、望月綾時は、えぇ、おたすけ部を立ち上げましたが。えぇ、このコーナーではリスナーの皆さんが学校生活及び、社会生活で困っていることを報告してもらって、それを僕らが少しだけおたすけして行きたいというコーナーです。

MO: はい。ございます。はい。まあね、おたすけ部…なわけなんですけど、言葉なわけなんですけど。あの…えぇ、台本に普段お2人は誰かの相談に乗ることはありますか、書いてあるんですが。

AI: おたすけを求められることはあるかということだね？ないね？まあ、ほぼないね？まあ、あの…

MO: でも、でもそうんな…

AI: 今までの人生でゼロだとは言わないけど。

MO: *

AI: そんなにね、あのー…濃い湯事で事魔てるんです、いや、ちょっと借金が溜まって首が回らないんですみたいなこと言われた、事がない。

MO: いや、そこは、さすがにそこはなんかこう、あるじゃないか。*

AI: まあ、親しき中にも礼儀ありというか。まあ…友人だったら、なおさら金を貸すなっていうことだよね。なんだそれ？

MO: まあ、あのー、ね…金を貸す…のがおたすけ部、まあ、まあ、それも一つでしょうけどね。そうじゃないのもあるでしょうからね。でもなんかあれ、私、結構、あの、あの、たまに聴くけど。えっとー、あのー…石田くんの、後輩の、役者、女の子ですとかが。さんになんか好きられた。話とかたまに聞きますよ。

AI: え？何？横断歩道を渡っていたら、トラックが「バー」突っ込んできて「危ない！」「トー」、みたいな。*

MO: なんでそんなみたいで。*

AI: 僕は、コロコロコロコロ、みた、イタイタイタイタイタ。だ、大丈夫だから…みたいなです…。

MO: やるだったら本当困りますよね。マネージャーが、青くなっちゃう。

AI: そうだよね、交通事故だからね。それは、ないほうがいいけど。そんな、そんな…なんだろう…こうアクティブな生活を送ってないよ僕。

MO: アクティブじゃなアクティブじゃあね。知らないうちに人を助けることあるじゃないですか。

AI: あ、あぁそうですか？

MO: 株価って悩みそうだけどとかって言ったじゃなくても？

AI: うん。あぁ…じゃ…あの…。目線を合わせないようになんか懺悔室みたいにこちらの、久米仙がわからないような部屋で。悩みを聞く？そういうことしたことない僕。

MO: えぇ…まあ、でもとりさま。こうラジオ、スタジオだから。リスナーの皆さんの顔見えないわけだから。

AI: あ、見えないでね。

MO: ちょうどいいじゃないですか？��々残業つだと思っていただいて。*

AI: なんで、残業つだと思ったら、なんか残業のメールとかいっぱい送られてきたら、それはそれでちょっと違うような気もするけどね。

MO: うん、そうですね。

AI: っていうか、僕の勝手なイメージだけど、緒方さんは、あのー、終わりと姉御肌っぽいイメージだから、終わりと人の相談乗ってるとか、相談があるんですけど、聞いてくださいって言われてるような感じがする。そういのはないの？

MO: そうね、なんか…まあまあ、それなりにちょいちょいありますけどね。まあ、さ、最近こういうのはあれですね。ある程度の妙齢になってきた女性声優がですね。うちの相方が、えっと、一般人なんですけど、どうしたら、普通の人とそしたらのですか？そうですね。

AI: あ！もう業界人教誨師はこれから、そういうこと？*

MO: なんか、なんか、出会いがないとか言って。割とそういう人が多いですね。

AI: たしかにそうですね。自分の行動半径、でしか出会いはないですもんね。

MO: そうですね。

AI: そう思うと。

MO: まあ、我、なんかあれもね、その、あの、会社の方々もみんなそういう部分もでしょうけど。うちらもね、なんかこう、割とこう狭いところの、一つの大きな会社みたいな、ところでなんか働くじゃないですかなんとなくみんなね。

AI: まあ、まあ、まあ、そうですね。

MO: だからそういう意味では、出会いが、少ないっていうのは確かにそれ、そうなんだけど。*

AI: でも、そういう時は何て答えてるって、いうの？

MO: いや、色色、あの、場合によって。そうなんだけど。*

AI: 高校にしなさいとか、そういうこと。

MO: 高校にしなさいっていうのもなんか色々微妙じゃない？ここなんかこう、あの、なんつうか、まあ、その人によってね、いろいろあるんで、あんまりこう細かく話すとこうちょっとまずいんですけど、も。あでもしゃべって…

AI: *

MO: しゃべっていい、も、もはやこの既婚になりましたの義父優子さんとかは、本当になんかそういうこうに…*

AI: すごい具体的な話。*

MO: いや、だっていやできてやつはちゃんと喋るんだけど。*

AI: あぁ、そうですね。

MO: あの、なんか、えっと、合コンっていうか、そういうお見合いに行ったそうです。

AI: おぅ。

MO: えぇ、そうですね。

AI: まあ、そういう…まあね、新しい出会い、そこに何が待ち受けているか言ってみなければわからないからね。

MO: そうですね。い、石田くんも行く気はの。

AI: ない。

MO: あ、くじらさんとはの、えぇ、くじらさんがですね。あの…えぇ…石田くんのね。*

AI: 嫁を探すとかいってらっしゃいましたね。

MO: いってらっしゃいましたね。

AI: 勢いとは言えなんて話になってんだと思いました僕は

MO: うん、そうなんです。まあ、ちょっと嫁の話とか相談されても難しいですけど、えぇ、皆さんからなんか色々、あの、こんなことは、どう思いますか？みたいなことがありましたですね。

AI: あの、別に男女間の事に限った話ではないので、あの、別の全然別の角度の、あのー…これを助けてください。相談がありますっていいので、皆さん送ってきてください。

MO: 残業つみたいですね。石田くんがアドバイス、敷けるどね。

AI: 聞くだけ聞きましょう。

MO: あ！チャンスですよ。チャンス…。

AI: それに応えるかどうかはまた別の話。

MO: *

AI: 答えられるかどうかが分からないからねどんな質問来るかわからないからこう、自分でしか言えないじゃない。「それは頑張れよ」ってこともとらあるじゃない。

MO: まあでもそれわかんないよっていうふうにゆってくれることなんか幸せかもしれないじゃないですかね？石田彰ファンは。

AI: なんかすごい���なんか…好意的に捉えてくれてる。

MO: 何だよ、何だよ。

AI: ありがとう。

MO: え。まあまあ、それだけですね。鳥屋さんのこちらのコーナーですね。みんなからのメッセージでですね。お待ちしています。

36:25

AI: 石田彰と緒方恵美の

AI&MO: ペルソナ3、影時間ラジオ

MO: そうして、コーナーがあります。続きましては、こちらのコーナー。「巌戸台分量、生活向上、ルール」。上限ですね、ペルソナ使いたちな、クラス巌戸台分量でございますね。このコーナーはでございますね、もしも。私と、緒方ですね。あの、天田、緒方と。石田さん、そしてリスナーの皆さんですね、一緒の量。はつまり一つ屋根の下に住むことになった場合の生活のルールを決めていきたい。そういうことでございます。

AI: あぁ、もしも。もしもしどうですか。なるほどね。何を決めたら、なんか集団生活が上手くいくでしょうね。

MO: まあ、色々ね。まあ、まあ、普通だとこうなんだろう消灯時間とか。あの、なんか、そういうのあるじゃないですか？あの、ご飯、いるのご飯が、いる時間とかさ。あるかもしれないじゃないですか。

AI: あぁ、そう、そうか、そういうこと、そうか決まってるもんね。もう…

MO: そうだよね。

AI: 今さ、すごい一人で…でって自由に暮らしてるから、ご飯食べる時間もすごいバラバラだし。すごい遅かったりもするの。もう、12時近くでも、晩御飯食べてもいいや、って言う生活だから。

MO: だからな。これ高校生だからね。一応な。

AI: これがさ、あの、夕方6時じゃないといけません。6時から7時の間でお願いします、と言われたら、合わせられない？

MO: おぅ。学の時は？えぇ、普通の下宿、普通のマンション、マンション。*

AI: アパート暮らし？うん、だから、別に、ね、あの、食事を作ってくれる、何、量産的な人はいなかったし。

AI: そういう経験って僕無いんですよ。

MO: あぁ。

AI: あぁ、寮生活って。

MO: ない。

AI: 寮か、厳しいなあ！なんか、厳しいなあ！

MO: 基本的にはこう、あなた、そういう、ふうなルールで縛られる嫌でしょ？

AI: んー…で、ルールで縛られることよりも、あのー…ほかの人と一緒に…クラスっていうのが。そう。できないのかな？

MO: まあ、でもね、お部屋はね、保湿があるしさ。あそこ結構広いじゃないですか？保湿が、一つずつ。*

AI: あぁー…「ペルソナ3」の世界の中での。

MO: 世界の中の。

AI: 巌戸台分量の中ね。あぁー、んー、そ��ね。まあ、人だから、あの、ぐらいのスペースがあれば。あ、でもあれプラス。んー…。

MO: なんで？

AI: だってさ、あの…じゃあー、じゃあちょっと、あの…くつろぎたいからリビングに行こうって言っても、自分の部屋じゃないわけじゃもうそこは。

MO: まあな。

AI: んー。そこで、なんか…ね？僕がだよ。理じゃなくて、僕がリビングにいた時に、順平がやってきて「おう！」とか言われたら。う、んー、んー…ちょっと。んー、部屋に戻ろうかなって気にならなくもないかも。いやいや、あの、こっちの体調とか、あのー…メンタルなパワーが高いときは「やあ」ってできるけど。

MO: 今の800だいぶ無理矢理感がね。なんかこう、ちょっとプレパラシオンが多いっていうかさあ。あ、まあまあ、でも…そうですね。

AI: じゃ、あ、でも、まずな、なんか決めましょう。

MO: そうですね。

AI: またにね。

MO: その、その石田さんがですね���も楽しく。石田くんが、あなたと、このこれ聞いてくれるあなた、がね。一緒に、一緒に楽しく暮らせるようなですね。あ、これいいフレーズですね。石田くんとあなた、こう楽しく暮らせるようなですね、そういう。

AI: 僕と緒方さんとあなた。

MO: そうですね。えぇ、まあ、あの…

AI: 3人、3人、3人、3人。*

MO: はい。あのー、楽しく暮らせるようなでやと思って確なんかちょっとですね、一つね決めてですね。あの、こういうのはどうですかね。っていう感じのご提案をですね。みなさんからいただければと思います。えぇ、ちなみにこう例えば例題として、例えば『ペット可、っていいか、ふかか』っていうようなね。

AI: あぁ…まあ、この世界のお約束としては、ペット可にしておかないと、コロマルの、なんか立ち位置が危うくなる

MO: そうですね。

AI: っていうのがあるから、これはかでいい、いいのかなとかにしなきゃいけないだろうなと思うんだけど。でもペット難しいよね色々ね。

MO: ね、たくさんいると、すごい大変だよね。

AI: うん、あのさ…やっぱりこう飼ってる本人は。こう…かわいいかわいいでいいんだけど、飼ってない方向にしたら。まあ、買ってなくても、犬好き猫好きうさぎ好きキリン好き、の人はいいんだけど。

MO: キ、キリンは寮に入ったらだめだろう。

AI: はい、でもキリンって普通にペットとして飼っても。別に問題はないらしいよ。

MO: 本当に？

AI: まあ、本当に、これ本当に。

MO: なんか突き抜けそうですね天井ね。

AI: まあね、それ買うには大変だと思う色。*

MO: まあ、でも、コロちゃんの場合はまあペットというか仲間だから。

AI: まあ、そうね。

MO: なんかそういう意味ではこう、ちょっと、別じゃないこう、買ってあげるってよりは。す、と、特にみんなとみたいな感じだからね。

AI: そうだね。

MO: まあ、だからみんなっていうペットだったら良いってことよろしこにですかね。

AI: そうですね。

MO: はい。

AI: まあ、あのー、なんか…アレルギーを持っているたい、体質的にっていう人は、ちょっと部屋話してあげるから。*

MO: あぁ…。

AI: ちょっと透明のハナレの部屋にしてあげるからって言うことでね。

MO: はい…あ、そうですね。

AI: そういう歩みよりは必要ですよね？

MO: はい。ということですね。ペットはそういうふうな形になりました。大丈夫ですか皆さん。えぇ、そんなわけで、次回からみなさんが考えた生活のルールを送ってきてください。よろしく、お願いします。

41:45

AI: お届けしてきました「ペルソナ3影時間ラジオ」そろそろ、影時間がを閉じる、時間になってしまいました。

MO: そうですね。

AI: そういうことなんですね。

MO: はい。

AI: あ、なんか作品っぽくていいですね。

MO: あぁ、なんかね。

AI: はい。

MO: はい、まあ、そんなわけで、いかが…

AI: まあ、一回めで探り探りのところもあるし、で…あの…意識的に一回だからちゃんとしようと思って、僕的にも、あのー…真面目に取り組んでみたつもりですよ。

MO: そうですね。

AI: え。

MO: だいぶしっかり石田くんがしゃべってくれて、なんか本当に…嬉しいです。

AI: え、何、あの。じゃあ、僕、気を抜くと喋らなくなる、って事。2回目から怪しいな。

MO: まあ、でもこれからまたこう突っ込みが色々を作ってくるでしょうかね。あの、そういうの楽しみにしてますね。

AI: あ、そうですね。

MO: はい、皆さんの言葉と一緒ですね。鏡でいろいろね。

AI: そうですね。こう、リスナーさんがどういう？まあ、各コーナー、によらずともこう、どういうリアクションを返してくれるかで、こう番組の方向性が変わっていたりしますかね？

MO: そうですね。

AI: はい。

MO: あぁ、ゲストの方…もね、してくださる、こともあるなので。えぇ、くださった、そういう人達と一緒ですね。また、えぇ、「ペルソナ3」の世界…であったりとか、えぇ、その人のパーソナルだったりとかですね。ちょっと踏み込んでいきたいと思いますね。*はい。

AI: でまた、あの、まあ一応「影時間ラジオ」なので、「ペルソナ3」の第四の劇序盤の、情報もちょっとずつ皆さんに紹介できたらいいなと思っておりますので、凝ったいください。はい。

MO: 本当のですね。はい。そんなこの番組ですかね、えっと、毎回ですね満月の夜に、更新されるということですね。満月の夜に更新のラジオ。そう、そこだけ聞くと、すごくなんかこう、なんでシャレオツな感じじゃないですか。

AI: いいですよね。

MO: ちょっとね。満月の夜ね？

AI: 満月の夜ですか？

MO: *はい、まあ、次回の満月ですね。各地調べてくださいって。言われたんですけど、データ？

AI: これさ、すごいよね。次は何日ですって言わないの？

MO: まあ、基本的には多分、28日周期ぐらいだから。まあ、アバウトそのぐらいだと思うんですけど。

AI: まあね、あのー、まあ、今、今はね、いろいろ情報があるので、今それぞれそうです。

MO: 2月のカレンダーとかあるしね。

AI: 公式ツイッターの方でも何かされるようです。あの、すごくわかりやすいヒントが出るみたいです。

MO: あぁ、そうそう。あの、皆さんの、えっと、「PERSONA3 THE MOVIE」ですね。あの、フォローしてくださいよろしくお願いします。はい。あともちろんですけど、みなさんからのメッセージも、お待ちしております。メッセージですねこの番組を聞いてるホームページから送ることができますので。ぜひぜひ送ってくださいね。

AI: はい、本当にたくさんお待ちしております。

MO: はい。

AI: ということで、ここまでのお相手は結城理乾約石田彰と。

MO: アシスタントの、天田乾約の、緒方恵美でした。

AI&MO: バイバイ！

[meringuejellyfish]

i like in precure when they punch things

[stllmnstr]

every fragile thing

pairing: park sunghoon x f reader

genre: enemies to lovers, figure skating au, college/university au

word count: 12.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, jealousy, non graphic descriptions/depictions of injuries, use of the american (usa) university system, a kiss or five

soundtrack: get him back! / brutal / jealousy, jealousy / good 4 u / the grudge / bad idea right? / drivers license - olivia rodrigo

After an ankle injury lands you in mandated physical therapy sessions instead of on the ice where you should be training for nationals, you're absolutely certain you must be the most frustrated, emotionally volatile figure skater on the planet. Park Sunghoon proves you wrong.

or,

every fragile thing has one of two choices: become stronger or shatter into a million pieces.

note: hi hello yes this is me on a new blog with the same name. I deleted my old one and wasn't sure if I planned on remaking/reposting but here we are! if you've read this before, then I hope you enjoy just as much this time around. and if you haven't, I hope you love figure skater sunghoon just as much as I do! happy reading ♡

Silence. One word, two syllables. A fairly straightforward term with a meaning that can be easily deduced from a quick scan of its Merriam-Webster definition. 

But unlike many words, silence is one that’s typically learned through experience. Through stilted moments, pregnant pauses, dreamlike moments in the dead of night while the world around you is at a standstill. 

In the moments just before the music starts, when it feels as if the audience around you is holding their breath. And you stand at the center of it all, blades of your tightly laced skates against ice, chest rising and falling in time with your heartbeat, mind spinning with possibility. In those moments, your long trained muscles take over, following the memory of countless repetitions as your body prepares to do what it knows best. 

There’s a question in that silence. One that’s asked with baited breath. 

Will I land this skill? Will I go home with a medal around my neck, cold weight a familiar comfort against my skin? Will this be my best performance yet? Will they love it? Love me?

That, as you’ve come to learn, is your favorite kind of silence. The kind that’s filled with endless possibility, with the promise of something beautiful or disastrous or some odd mix of the two to come. 

The feeling of freedom, of flying as blade cuts through ice, as your body defies gravity with every jump, every spin. 

But that is very much not the kind of silence that greets you where Dr. Min eyes you warily over the top of his pristine clipboard, a crease forming between his dark eyebrows. Frowning, he glances at the paper once more before returning his gaze to you. 

“You’re sure you’ve been resting? No weight on the fracture at all?”

It takes a good chunk of your willpower not to roll your eyes. Mostly because you’re lying through your teeth, but who’s keeping track? 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Gesturing to the thick black boot the lower part of your left leg and foot have been imprisoned in for the better part of a month, you add, “This thing’s still coming off in two weeks, right?”

Two weeks is pushing it, but you’ve done more with less. Two weeks puts you exactly three months out from regionals, which gives you exactly ninety-one days to pull together the most jaw dropping program you or the judges have ever seen. One that’s certain to land you on the podium and secure a spot at nationals. 

Once again, you thank your lucky stars for Coach Lee. She’s been with you since you were still struggling to lace your own skates, and there’s no one else you’d trust to have you ready for regionals in such a short time frame. No one else you’d bet your fate on like this. 

“That was our original time frame, yes…” Dr. Min trails off, avoiding your gaze in a way that has your stomach dropping unpleasantly. 

“And we’ll be sticking to it, I’m sure.” You hate the way the end of your phrase turns up like a question. 

Dr. Min sighs. “Look, ___, our original time frame was ambitious to begin with, and I hate to tell you this, but your ankle is not healing as well as we’d hoped. Fractures don’t heal overnight, and the best thing for you right now is rest.” 

The argument is already forming on your tongue. “But—”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not trying to ruin your life, ___. Truly. I’m saying this to you as the parent of an athlete and a former athlete myself. Pushing yourself now will only lead to reinjury in the future and will also very likely shorten your career. Your ankle needs to heal before you skate on it again. It needs to heal before you so much as put weight on it. And you need to let it heal completely.” The sincerity in his voice is hard to stomach when he says, “Believe me when I tell you that you’ll regret it for the rest of life if you don’t.”

And logically, you know he’s right. Know that this will be nothing but a minor setback if you allow it to run its course. If you follow his advice to rest and heal. But skating has never been something you’ve done with the logical parts of yourself. And Dr. Min doesn’t get it. You tell him as much. “You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do. Regionals are in less than four months, and—”

“I hear you. Believe me, I do. But this is your third year of university, which means you have another shot at nationals next year. If you push it and try to skate before you’re ready, you may very well lose that chance too.”

“So I’m supposed to do what? Sit around and do nothing until my ankle decides to cooperate?” Even voicing the possibility has you suppressing a grimace. 

But Dr. Min has different thoughts. “Yes. That is exactly what you need to do.”

You don’t avert your gaze. Neither does he. Finally, after a moment, he sighs. “My recommendation at this point is still rest, but—”

“But?” Your excitement is impossible to contain fully. 

Dr. Min levels you with a cautionary look over his clipboard. “But, if you’re going to do anything, our athletics department does also run a physical therapy program, which I think could be beneficial. It would help to retain flexibility, mobility, and agility in the areas of your leg that support your ankle. It could help get you back on the ice faster and maintain the leg strength you’ve built. There’s a group session that runs on Tuesday afternoons—”

“Yes,” you nod, not bothering to hear the end of his statement. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“I… okay.” As much as you want to hate him for it, Dr. Min has a point. And while you doubt physical therapy will be anywhere near as grueling as your usual workouts, it sounds a hell of a lot better than doing nothing. 

…

You’ve never liked hospitals. The odd juxtaposition of white, lifeless sterility and a culmination of some of life’s most painful moments has always left an unpleasant taste on your tongue. 

It’s one that has you double checking the address Dr. Min forwarded to you as you enter the oddly cheerful building that is apparently home to a renowned athletics physical therapy facility. Despite the medical purpose, there’s a distinct liveliness that envelops the space. 

The woman at reception informs you that this is indeed the right building and the session you’re attending has just begun in the room to your left. 

Pausing at the door, you’re struck with a sudden timidness. A physical therapy group for athletes will obviously be filled with, well, athletes. And although you can’t speak too harshly on that particular subsect of people, being one yourself, they can be intimidating. It must be the competitiveness, you think. The drive to push, succeed, win that gives off such a distinct aura.

Steeling yourself with one last breath, you remind yourself that’s why you’re here. To get back to that version of you that has everyone else feeling a little shier. That version of you that eats, breathes, and sleeps with ice skates laced on your feet and visions of the top of a podium driving your every decision. 

With determination straightening your brow, you push open the door. 

And immediately find yourself grateful for the mental preparation as three heads snap in your direction.  

Hitching your bag up an inch on your shoulder, you try not to melt under the sudden awkwardness. Thankfully, one of them is better at breaking ice than you.

“Hi,” the boy closest to you is the first to fill the silence. He’s all smiles where he gives you a friendly wave, moving a stray hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head as he tells you, “I’m Jungwon.”

You offer your name in return, trying on a smile to match his friendliness. You have a feeling it comes more naturally to him than it ever will to you, though. 

Regardless, he offers an equally cheerful, “Nice to meet you.” Glancing over to where the second boy is moving through a series of stretches, Jungwon makes eye contact, silently telling him he’s up next. 

Even mid-stretch, he acquiesces. “I’m Niki,” the second boy follows. 

“And I’m Jake.” The last boy doesn’t need any prompting from Jungwon. Nodding towards the walking boot that covers the bottom half of your left leg, he glances at a similar one that he wears on his own. “Looks like we’re twins. Tore up my achilles pretty bad in my last soccer match,” he explains. “What about you?”

“Fractured my ankle,” you return, a rueful smile dragging your lips up. “Figure skater.”

“Ah, man.” Jungwon winces. “That sucks.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalance you don’t feel. “No worse than a busted achilles.” 

“That’s cool that you skate though,” Jake offers. “Kind of a funny coincidence, actually. There’s another—”

Whatever it is, he doesn’t get to finish the thought. At that moment, the door opens again, this time revealing a middle aged woman in a white physician’s coat. Her name tag reads Dr. Kim, and she introduces herself as such to you. 

“Looks like everyone’s here, including our new members.” She gives another cursory nod in your direction. “Welcome again.” Glancing around, the instructor pauses. “Oh, wait. Except for—”

“I’m here, I’m here.” For the second time in the span of a minute, the door behind you opens. You don’t miss the glance that passes between Niki and Jake. You turn to face the new arrival, but his back is to you as he sets his bag down and begins the process of switching his shoes. 

The way the new member enters with a dismissive wave of his hand and lack of proper greeting has you thinking tardiness is not an uncommon trait of his. Even from behind, you can feel the waves of arrogance he exudes. That seems to align more with your preconceived notions of athletes. 

Studying him for another second, a sinking feeling of dread begins to build in the pit of your stomach. Long, dark hair. Unnaturally graceful movements, even if all he’s doing is digging through his bag. Tall stature, broad shoulders, long legs. 

An athlete’s build through and through. Perfectly suited for the ice. 

“Great.” Despite the statement, Dr. Kim’s tone is flat. “Well, we were just getting started and introducing ourselves since we have someone new joining us today.”

“Hi,” he offers, still fixated on his bag, yet to offer as much as a glance in your direction. If anything, it only serves as a confirmation of his identity. “I’m—” You don’t even need to hear him say it. 

“Sunghoon?”

At that, he does finally look up. 

Gaze locking with yours, a moment of confusion is quickly replaced by a furrow in his brow, the slight downturn of his lips. He’s not thrilled to see you either. 

A beat passes. 

Two. 

Neither of you break eye contact. 

The silence extends to the point of discomfort for all four onlookers, each of them hesitant to break the tension that’s rising by the second. 

Finally, Dr. Kim takes a knife to the tension. “Do you two know each other?” 

Park Sunghoon. Renowned figure skater at your rival university. Someone with such a natural knack for carving lines through ice that whispers of prodigy have been shadowing his footsteps since the minute he put them on a rink. 

Someone with his head so far up his own ass you’re not sure how he can see half the time, much less keep his hair looking so perfect. 

Oh, you know him alright. 

“___?”

And it would seem he remembers you as well. 

It also answers Dr. Kim’s question well enough. 

“Ah, good.” It sounds like a question, like she’s hoping your acquaintance will be a positive thing instead of a disaster. You don’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. “The figure skating community is tight knit, I suppose.”

You suppress a scoff. That’s one word for it, you guess. 

You remember when it felt that way to you, too. Before tight knit became too small. Back before university, when it felt like it was you and Park Sunghoon against the world, instead of against each other. Back when the two of you didn’t skate for opposing teams but instead were members of the same club. A time when you took the ice together, skated as partners until he—

You force your thoughts to stop in their tracks. Your blood pressure has spiked enough in the last few days, and thinking back on long days spent with Park Sunghoon will only send it skyrocketing again. 

If anything, you’ll use this opportunity to practice perfecting your poker face for when you inevitably run into him at future competitions. 

And future competitions means you need a healed ankle, not a bruised ego. And certainly not an unpleasant trip down memory lane. 

Turning away from Sunghoon, you’re the first one to answer when Dr. Kim asks if you’re ready to get started. 

“Yes,” you tell her, determination written across your brow, in the set of your shoulders, and perhaps most noticeably, in the way you avoid Sunghoon’s wandering gaze for the next two hours. 

…

Without the rink, days are quick to meld into one another. It may be concerning, considering that you still have a set schedule of classes and homework to follow, but your life has revolved around training for so long that it’s hard to tell Mondays from Wednesdays without a set practice schedule. 

Thankfully, you do still make it back to the clinic at the right time on the right day, this time for another session with Dr. Kim and your fellow band of broken athletes. 

Including him. 

Aside from the glaringly obvious exception, you’re not as bothered at the thought of returning as you feared you might be. 

Jungwon, Niki, and Jake have proven themself pleasant enough company, and Dr. Kim seems to have built an understanding of how difficult it is to be forcibly removed from the sport you love. As such, she’s one of the least aggravating medical professionals you’ve spent time around. 

“Hey,” Niki greets when you arrive. “Did you have a good weekend?”

You shrug. “Good enough. Mostly just catching up on homework.” Setting your bag down and switching out your shoes, you join him on the mat, beginning the series of warm-up stretches Dr. Kim instructed you through last week. “What about you?”

“Not too bad. I got some good news from my doctor, actually.” He switches legs in his stretch, and you’re almost envious of his flexibility. He’s a dancer, and an exceedingly good one at that. One with an unfortunate knee injury at the moment. “My x-rays are looking a lot better. He thinks I might be able to start easing back into regular use by next month.” 

“That’s great,” you smile, even as a pang of jealousy stabs somewhere near your gut. “I’m really happy for you, Niki.” 

“A month still feels like forever, though, doesn’t it?” He sighs. “I can’t remember the last time I was out of the studio for this long.” 

Jungwon slides down onto the mat next to you, joining in on the stretch routine. “Consider yourself lucky, man. They told me at my last check-up that I probably won’t be able to do any jumping or kicks again for at least three months even though the fracture is already mostly healed.” He shakes his head. “No jumping or kicking,” he echoes, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You know, things that are super easy to avoid in taekwondo.”

“If it’s any consolation, I just got told that I’m gonna have to sit out of regionals this year. Which means I’ll have no way of qualifying for nationals.” You wonder how many times you’ll have to admit that particular reality to yourself before the sting starts to fade. 

“That sucks.” Jake agrees, coming down to the mat and occupying the spot next to Niki. “I’ll probably have to sit for this entire season, too. I love my team, but it’s so frustrating watching them play when I know I could be an asset on the field.”

“That’s true.” You’re struck by a sudden wave of sympathy. “At least skating is an individual sport, so the only person I have to disappoint is myself.” 

“Speaking of skating,” Jungwon sounds hesitant as he approaches the subject. “Do you and Sunghoon, uh…” he pauses for a moment in search of a neutral way of framing the unmistakable tension that surfaced the last time he saw the two of you together. “Do you two know each other?”

Grimacing internally, you suppose an explanation was bound to be solicited after your icy reunion. “We skate for rival universities.” Your gaze fixes on a spot on the ground. “And before college we used to, uh, we used to skate for the same club.”

The three boys share a glance. It’s hardly an explanation for the venom you said his name with but before they can press you further, the subject in question enters the room. 

Again, he takes his time setting his bag down, getting his things ready. This time, he also pulls out an obnoxiously big pair of headphones, secures them over his ears before he bothers to turn around. Despite the fact that all three boys offer him friendly smiles and waves, he returns the gesture only with a tight smile, making his way to the mat on the opposite side of the room before he begins his stretch routine.

It’s a message that rings loud and clear. A frown passes between Jake, Jungwon, and Niki. It’s obvious to you, then, that you’re the reason he chose to set himself up as far away as physically possible. 

So be it, you think, letting the slight roll right off of you. It’s not the first time he’s given you the cold shoulder for something he plays an equal part in, and you doubt it will be the last. 

Besides, it will only make your sessions pass by quicker, if the burden of avoiding gazes and minimizing interactions falls on his shoulders instead of yours.

With nothing but a shrug, you adjust slightly, ensuring that the only view he has of you is of your back. 

…

It’s a pattern that continues as physical therapy sessions start to become a regular routine in your week. Sunghoon, with his apparent disdain for anyone’s time but his own, is always the last to arrive. He also continues his habit of picking the spot in the room furthest away from you. 

Despite the fact that you’d like to chalk it up to his social ineptitude alone, that explanation doesn’t track. Although there’s still a certain aura of aloofness that follows where he goes, it’s too often that you see him smiling at a joke cracked by Jake or sharing easy conversations with Jungwon and Niki.  

Hell, he even interacts with Dr. Kim with a level of warmth you didn’t know was possible coming from him. If there’s any disdain in their conversations, he directs it all towards his right wrist. It’s why he’s here, you assume. Encased in a brace similar to the one you wear on your left ankle, his right forearm seems to be the reason for his attendance. 

It’s hard to not be envious. While a wrist injury is nothing to scoff at, it doesn’t necessarily keep you off the ice. Not in the same way a fractured ankle does. 

Refocusing your thoughts, you push the boy across the room firmly out of mind as Dr. Kim helps adjust you into the next stretch.

“How about now?” Dr. Kim pushes your spine a fraction of an inch further, pressure light but demanding. Before, this much flexibility would have been an easy request of your body, but lack of use has your muscles feeling tight. “Any tightness or pain?”

“No.” The bead of sweat on your brow begs to differ, as does the way the negation slipped through gritted teeth. 

But you’re frustrated. Annoyed at the progress you’ve lost, at the new limits of your body, at the way you feel like a stranger in your own skin. 

Across the room, you miss the flicker of annoyance that flits over Sunghoon’s features. Headphones on as always, you imagine you’re nothing more than a blip on his radar, a pesky intruder that’s easily ignored as long as he has his back to you. 

“Hm,” Dr. Kim muses. “You’ve retained more flexibility than I expected.” She offers you a smile. “That’s a good thing, a sign of a quick recovery.”

You suppress a grimace. It should be a good thing. You should be recovering quickly. If only you could get your stupid body to cooperate. 

Stealing another glance at the boy across the room, you can’t help the way a small burst of rage bubbles in your stomach. Prodigy. Why does he always get to be the anomaly, the exception to the rule? His injury is already less severe than yours, and he’s probably recovering quickly, too. Without even having to fake it.

Easing you out of the stretch, Dr. Kim jots down a quick note. “I’ll have Dr. Min run another x-ray at your next visit.” Nodding towards your ankle, she adds, “I think there’s a good chance that things are looking a lot better, and updated x-rays will help guide our next sessions.” She pauses for a minute. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself or get your hopes up, but I think we might be able to start putting some weight back on it soon. Start getting it stronger again.” 

You’re hesitant to let your excitement grow too much. But it would be a lie if you weren’t already counting the days until your next visit with Dr. Min in your head. “Thank you,” you tell her. “I’ll hope those x-rays come back looking good, then.”

“Me too,” she smiles. “I’ll see you next week, then. Hopefully with good news.”

You nod, returning her smile before heading to the door to gather your things. Jungwon catches you on your way out. 

“Hey, ___, hold on a sec.” When you turn back towards him, he tells you, “The rest of us are gonna grab lunch at a place nearby, if you want to join.”

Your uncertainty must write itself across your features, because he’s quick to add, “Don’t worry. Sunghoon won’t be there. He’s got a class right after this.”

Slightly embarrassed by the way he read you so easily, you nod. “Sure. Lunch sounds good.” Despite their friendliness with Sunghoon, you’ve come to like the three of them. And it’s been far too long since you broke up the monotony of class, homework, and medical appointments with something as simple as lunch with friends. 

And as long as he’s not there, you imagine it will be nothing but pleasant. 

It doesn’t take long for them to prove you wrong. 

Niki barely lets you get one bite in before he asks, “So, what exactly happened between you two?” Even without the name, the question is obvious. 

Still, after choking on the sip of water you’d been taking, you answer, “Who?”

Jake just gives you a look. 

You sigh. “Like I said, we used to skate for the same club. We, uh, never really got along, I guess.” Avoiding eye contact, you add, “And now we skate for rival schools. I suppose it’s only natural to not like each other.”

Niki doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, that sounds made up.”

Jungwon swallows his bite, parts his lips like he has something to say. Internally, you heave a sigh of relief. If any of the three of them spare you, you have a feeling it would be him. “I mean, it does seem like something else must have happened.”

Or not. 

“You don’t have to tell us,” he adds. “But it’s just… I mean, the two of you can’t even look at each other.”

Sighing, you suppose the circumstances do look odd from the outside. “There was… an incident. Back when we used to skate together.”

“What?” Jake asks. “Did he steal your skates right before a show or something?” 

“No, no.” You shake your head. “It happened on the ice, actually. During a program.”

“Wait,” Niki interrupts. “You said you used to skate together. Do you mean like, as partners?”

The guilt on your face says it all. 

“No way.” Jake says. 

Jungwon’s eyes grow bigger. “What did he do?”

“Yeah,” Niki turns to face you fully. “Wouldn’t being his partner be a good thing? At least on the ice, I mean. I know he can be a little insufferable, but isn’t he some sort of prodigy—”

“Prodigy, my ass.” You’re so sick of that goddamn word. “Wasn’t a prodigy when he dropped me in the middle of our program at junior nationals, was he?”

The way all three or their jaws drop in unison is almost worth the admission. 

But the thing is, he was. No accusatory fingers pointed in his direction after it happened. No one blamed prodigy Park Sunghoon for the mishap. 

No, it was decided fair and square by the jury of public opinion that the mistake was entirely your fault, your burden to bear. And it’s not like you were immune to the criticism. Whispers followed where you went. And you always, always managed to hear them. 

Maybe if you’d trained a little harder, completed the second rotation a little sooner, the skill would have gone off without a hitch, they mused. Hell, maybe if you’d stuck to your diet a little better, those last two pounds would have spelled the difference between a perfect landing and your ass on frozen ground, program music still crescendoing as onlookers watched with horrified fascination.

“Oh,” Jungwon grimaces. 

“That’s rough,” Niki agrees. 

And they don’t even know the worst of it. Don’t know that back then, at fifteen, you’d had a giant, soul crushing, earth shattering, massive crush on your skating partner. That you searched for his approval just as eagerly as you’d sought out your coach’s. 

That you’d squeezed in as many extra practice sessions as physically possible for five months leading up to the routine just to make sure you were as close to flawless as possible, just to make sure you were chosen to be his partner on the ice. 

That you giggled, giggled, when you saw the matching costumes the two of you would wear for the first time. 

That you followed where he went with long sighs and lovesick eyes. That you looked forward to the grueling hours you spent on the ice with him, turning perfection into something even greater. 

That your heart skipped a beat every time you ran through your program, every time he caught you with sure hands and a strong grip. 

That Park Sunghoon never made a mistake, never let you fall, not once. 

Not until a spotlight was spinning dreams into reality and you were already anticipating the secret smiles you’d share with matching gold medals around your necks. 

Not until it all shattered in a single moment. 

It was cold, as you laid there on the ice, sprawled out and unable to move from the sudden shock of it all. Luckily, you’d avoided any critical injuries. You had staggered off the ice with nothing but some bad bruising, the worst of it staining your ego and your heart. 

And after it all, no matter how many times you passed him on your way to the locker room, shared the ice with him, or searched for the gaze he pointedly avoided across the room, Park Sunghoon never uttered the two words that just might have made you forgive it all. 

Instead of an apology or even the decency of an explanation, you got a cold shoulder and a lost friendship you were too confused by to mourn. 

In the end, you’d decided to turn it all into a blessing in a very thorough disguise. From that moment onwards, all of your time on the ice was dedicated to you and you alone. Never would you let anything but the sheer strength of your own will, your own goals, motivate you to become better, faster, stronger. 

And you found that victory tasted even sweeter, when the full weight of it could rest on your shoulders alone. When no one could whisper behind their palms that the only reason you stood on the podium was a prodigy of a partner. 

So fine. Park Sunghoon didn’t owe you shit. Not an apology, an explanation, or even a second glance. 

And if he was a prodigy, an ice prince or whatever stupid title he’d earned alongside his medals, well, you’d just have to be even better.

But now, sitting across from new friends with a fractured ankle and a ruined shot at medalling this year, a quiet part of you admits for the first time that maybe, just maybe, part of that resolve is nothing but spite in disguise. Part of the anger you’ve clung to for so long isn’t directed at him, but at yourself. 

That it was embarrassing to fall in front of a crowd, yes, but it was also humiliating to know that he was hearing all those little comments about your inferiority too. To realize that his silence meant he probably agreed. That you were a liability of a partner, unequal in both skill and importance. That he could move on from the incident, from you, completely unscathed. 

That your little crush was entirely one-sided, just like the respect and admiration you’d once felt for him. 

You stare at the half-eaten lunch in front of you, appetite suddenly completely gone. 

“What a coincidence that the two of you ended up injured at the same time,” Jake muses. 

“And in the same physical therapy group.” Jungwon nods. 

“Yeah,” you echo hollowly. “What a coincidence.”

…

When Park Sunghoon speaks to you for the first time in five years, it’s completely by accident.

As the weeks have continued on, you’ve fallen into a perfect routine during your shared physical therapy sessions. A routine of avoidance, ignorance, and as much space between the two of you as physically possible. It’s become so easy that the two of you navigate it with the kind of grace only two elite figure skaters could ever manage. 

If anything, it’s more awkward for the other members of your session than it is for the two of you. Jungwon, Jake, Niki, and Dr. Kim are the ones suffering as they try to stay friendly with both of you without icing out the other. 

It must be why he doesn’t even bother to check who it is that’s standing right next to him as he reaches for his bag on the shelf near the front door at the end of another session. Must be why he says it in a voice so casual you don’t think it’s him at first. “How pissed do you think Dr. Kim will be if I’m late again next week?”

Even though the voice doesn’t quite fit, you half expect to see Jake standing next to you when you turn to the side. 

Sunghoon realizes his mistake at the exact same second you do. You watch as shock flickers across his features, quickly replaced by something guarded, unreadable. Just as completely closed off to you as always. 

It pisses you off, the way he’s so utterly and completely unaffected by you. The way he can brush you off as easily as a piece of dust. Insignificant. Unimportant. Unwanted. It has you freeing the reins on comments you should bite back instead. 

“Hard to say.” Ice and resentment drip from every syllable. “Then again, I’m surprised you care about what she thinks. Doesn’t seem like something that would bother you.”

That at least earns you some of his emotion. Another bout of shock crosses his face before it shifts to confusion and falls finally to anger. You can see it in the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. The flare of heat in his eyes. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

If he falls to anger, you’ll rise above it. At least on the outside. There’s no accounting for the way your gut twists in rage. Still, you offer him a smile that’s almost as fake as it is sickeningly sweet. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you spend enough time thinking about it.” It’s patronizing, and intentionally so. You hope it annoys him enough to keep him up tonight. 

Reaching for the front door, you take your exit first. The hallways of this building have become familiar over the weeks. Even with anger clouding your vision and a bad ankle, you trace a steady path to the parking lot. You’re halfway to your car when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

You freeze for a moment, turning the sound of it over in your brain, stuck on the way it almost sounds like a plea, a prayer coming from his lips. The sound of footsteps draws nearer. They fall quickly, as if he’s running. Your indecision still renders you immobile. 

“Hold on a second. Did I… Did I do something to upset you?”

If you thought you were angry before, you’re surely seeing red now. How dare he. 

Spinning around, you only hope you sound as outraged as you feel. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?”

“What? No.” His brow furrows. “I mean, I know our schools are technically rivals and all, but we haven’t really seen each other in years.”

“Right, because you’ve been so sunny and welcoming since I joined the group.”

“I was giving you space. You practically bolted like a scared cat when you saw it was me.” He runs a hand through his hair. You hate the way it falls perfectly back into place. And you hate the way he looks so good doing it. “But clearly you’ve got something against me.”

The audacity, the sheer, utter audacity. There’s no trace of humor when you say, “You’re hilarious, really.” And there’s no room for debate when you turn away from him again, continuing to walk towards your car. 

“Wait,” he tries, but it falls on deaf ears. “God, ___, would you just hold on for a second, I—”

You turn. To do what, you’re not entirely sure. But before you can decide, the grip he has on his car keys loosens, the fingers of his right hand less dexterous than usual thanks to his arm brace. He still has his reflexes though. With his other hand, he manages to stop them from falling completely. 

“Better take care of that.” You jerk your chin to where he awkwardly fumbles with his keyring, trying to find a better grip. “Wouldn’t want to drop those too.”

His gaze snaps to you, eyes wide, mouth slightly slackened. The keys fall from his grasp, metal clinking delicately on the pavement. A million questions swim across his features, none of which you’ll give the grace of answering. 

Instead, you turn around once more. You make it all the way to your car, all the way out of the parking lot, all the way home. 

And he never says your name once. 

…

The following Tuesday, you are the last one of the group to arrive. And while you would usually never pass up the opportunity to best Sunghoon at anything, including being the latest arrival, competition is not the reason for your tardiness. 

It’s avoidance. That, and the fact that you had to spend eleven minutes giving yourself a pep talk in the car before you could work up the nerve to approach the front doors of the clinic. In the end, it’s a glance down at the boot on your left foot that does it. You’ve let Sunghoon ruin your chance at a gold medal once, and you’ll be damned if you let him do it again. 

Besides, your last visit with Dr. Min was a good one. Your ankle hasn’t healed quite as much as Dr. Kim suspected, but progress is progress, and you’re making plenty of it, according to your most recent x-rays. 

You enter the session with an apology for Dr. Kim and concentrated efforts to not let your gaze wander to the back corner of the room as you make your way over to where Jake and Jungwon sit. Starting your stretches, you assume Niki is over with Sunghoon, but you can’t work up the nerve to confirm that. 

Despite her initial annoyance at your tardiness, Dr. Kim is equally pleased at your latest x-ray results and gives you the green light to switch out the resistance bands you’ve been using for the next level up. Just as you’re reaching for the set of red bands on the shelf next to the treadmills, a set of obnoxiously smooth hands gets there first. 

Turning to Sunghoon with narrowed eyes, you grab the end of the band set he just snatched out from under you, eyes ablaze. 

The little fucker has the gall to roll his eyes. “What are you doing?”

You yank on the band. He doesn’t even flinch, grip steady. “I’m trying to follow Dr. Kim’s instructions,” you inform, tone flat. 

This time when you yank again, he yanks back. Much to your annoyance, he’s able to exert enough force to have you stumbling forward. “You’re trying to provoke me.”

“And it’s working,” Niki whispers to Jake and Jungwon in the back corner of the room. Dr. Kim just shakes her head. 

“Just take the green bands,” Sunghoon suggests. 

“They don’t have enough resistance. I need these ones,” you argue. “Why don’t you take the green ones?”

“Pretty sure if one of us takes the lighter bands, it should be you.” Sunghoon tightens his grip. “Or are you seriously trying to claim that you’re stronger than me right now?”

“I’m using them for my legs, you absolute jackass. Which are definitely stronger than your forearms.”

Sunghoon cocks a brow. “Should we put money on it?”

“You are such a dick. Dr. Kim literally—”

“Has another set of red bands,” the woman in question interrupts. She levels the two of you with an exasperated look as she holds them out in front of her. “There’s another set of every color on the equipment shelf next to the door.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, pulling back a little on your end of the band before you release it, just to hear the small cry Sunghoon lets out when it snaps against the skin of his good wrist. “Thanks.”

And the satisfaction that comes from completing your usual number of reps with a higher resistance is almost as gratifying as when you see Sunghoon rubbing at the still reddened skin on his left wrist as you pack up to leave for the day. 

“Those two are gonna kill each other,” Jungwon tells Jake and Niki as the three of them walk to their cars, brow creasing in concern. 

“Or something,” Jake agrees. 

Niki hoists his bag up on his shoulder. “My money’s on ___.”

A contemplative look passes between Jake and Jungwon before they nod in unison, “Yeah.”

…

You’re in the middle of passing a medicine ball back and forth with Jake the following week when he asks, “Are your school’s finals next week too?”

And although it’s hard to believe, first semester is already drawing to an end as the days get shorter and assignments get longer. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m up to my ass in essays right now.”

“Same,” Jake agrees. “Sometimes it makes me wonder how I do it when I’m training, too.” Although you agree, a pang of jealousy is the only thing his words inspire. Of the skaters on your team that are preparing to compete as you speak. That have already choreographed their routines and selected their music and are spending every waking moment perfecting each and every detail of their program. 

It’s hard. It’s brutal. You’d be the first to admit that. But you miss it all the same, so much it hurts. 

A moment passes before he continues. “Well, anyway, Jungwon, Niki, and I were thinking that since none of us are training right now, we should celebrate the end of the semester like everyone else does.”

You arch a brow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“Right, sorry,” he apologizes. “Consider this your formal invitation to get absolutely shitfaced with us next Friday.”

The laugh that bubbles in your throat is so unexpected you can’t quite bite it back. While you have your fair share of good, old-fashioned fun, he’s right. Every other semester, you’ve celebrated the end of finals season with a cup of hot tea and an early night in bed. Traded one source of stress for another as you woke up bright and early the next day to hit the ice. 

You send him a smile, tossing the medicine ball back in his direction. “Count me in.”

…

The following Friday night finds you double-checking the address on your phone before tentatively knocking on the front door of what you hope is Jake’s apartment. In the middle of the university district across the city from your own, you can’t say you’re familiar with any of the buildings outside of the athletic complex, which you’ve only ever visited for a handful of competitions. It strikes you then that this is also the university Sunghoon attends. And, stomach dropping, that you never actually asked who all would be attending tonight.

Before you have the chance to spin on your heel and high-tail it down the stairs you just climbed, the door swings open. It’s not Jake. 

“Oh,” you mumble. The boy who opened the door is not Jake, but he is very much attractive. “Sorry. I’m looking for Jake Sim’s apartment.” Your voice turns up at the end like a question. 

“You’re in the right place,” he smiles, and it’s gorgeous. “I’m Heeseung, Jake’s roommate. You must be ___.” He opens the door wider, allowing you space. “Come on in.”

“That’s me.” You offer him a grateful smile as you enter, hanging your coat and sliding your shoes off. 

The interior is surprisingly sophisticated, for a college boy’s apartment. It’s clean, for starters, and as you follow Heeseung down the hallway towards the kitchen, you can’t help but be impressed by their choice in decor. 

“Help yourself to anything.” Heeseung gestures to the impressive spread of snacks on the table. “But first, can I get you something to drink?”

“Um…” Your lack of alcohol-related knowledge is apparent, and the uncertainty must be obvious, because Heeseung just smiles again. 

“I’ve got you.” There’s an undertone of something in his words. Something playful, something bordering on flirty. But it’s too subtle to tell for sure, and you’re not one to bet on losing odds. He reaches for a glass and a handful of ice cubes. “Do you like fruity flavors?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “That sounds good.” Besides, it’s been a minute since you’ve been well and truly flirted with at a college party by a boy that looks like he could spell trouble in his sleep. This could be fun, you think.  

Glancing towards the adjacent living room, you notice the usual familiar faces. Jake and Niki are sitting on the couch while Jungwon chats with a pair of boys you don’t recognize. Eyes tracing the perimeter, you feel your shoulders tense when they land on a familiar silhouette. Sunghoon has his back to you, but his identity is just as unmistakable as it was on your first day of physical therapy. Like Jungwon, he’s talking to another person you don’t know. 

Oh, well. It’s too late to back out now and too early to make an exit. If you and Sunghoon can coexist in a room once a week without starting too many fires, you’re sure you’ll manage to get through tonight just fine. 

Heeseung hands you a full glass. It’s cold where it meets your fingertips. 

“Should we join them?” He inclines his head toward the living room and you nod. 

Following in his footsteps, you wave a quick greeting to Jake before taking a seat next to Heeseung, enough space between you and Sunghoon for you to relax slightly.

“How do you and Jake know each other?” You ask, searching for something to fill the silence, to keep the conversation flowing. “Do you play soccer together?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No, we’ve been friends since elementary school. But I am on the basketball team, which helps. I feel like student athletes just kind of get each other, you know?”

You do know, and you tell him as much. The crazy schedule, the unwavering commitment. It’s much easier to explain to someone that’s living through the exact same thing. 

“Speaking of which, you’re a figure skater, right? For the university across town.”

You arch a brow. “I’m surprised Jake told you so much about you.”

“Not nearly enough,” he flirts, and this time it’s blatant. 

You take another sip of your drink with upturned lips, weighing a response on your tongue. Before you can decide how many cards you’d like to show, you make eye contact across the room with the one person you were hoping to avoid. 

Sunghoon looks equally—scratch that—even more displeased to see you. Jawline so taught you could cut your finger on it and lips drawn in a straight line, he’s pissed where he locks eyes with you from his seat. Sunghoon is the one to avert his eyes first. Throwing back whatever’s in his cup, he slices through the moment of tension with a knife. 

If Heeseung notices the way your breath splutters, he doesn’t comment. Thankfully, Jungwon chooses the next moment to say his hellos and introduce you to the boys you hadn’t recognized earlier. 

“Sunoo,” he nods towards the boy he’d been sitting with earlier, who offers a friendly greeting. “And that’s Jay, over by Sunghoon. And you’ve already met Heeseung.”

“And you all go to school here?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon nods. “Jay and I live together, and Sunoo is Niki’s roommate.”

“You’re deep in enemy territory,” Heeseung elbows you lightly, teasing. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You lift your now empty glass towards him, grinning. “Get me another drink, hopefully.”

Sending you a wink, he takes the glass from your outstretched hand before standing from the couch. “On it.” You watch his back retreat into the kitchen, oblivious of the second one that follows it a handful of moments later. 

Jay, as it turns out, is not an athlete, but does play guitar for a local  band your friend has been raving to you about for ages. He’s already promising you two sets of complimentary tickets to every one of their upcoming shows by the time you realize Heeseung’s been gone for a while. Too long. 

Excusing yourself, you head toward the kitchen. And it’s just your luck that you find the person you’ve spent the evening avoiding, instead of the one you’re searching for. Even with the buzz of your first drink fading rapidly, your inhibitions are feeling low. 

Sunghoon barely has the chance to register your presence before you’re laying out accusations. 

“I know you don’t like me, but do you really have to spend the whole night glaring at me like that? In front of everyone?”

Sunghoon’s shoulders tense, a confirmation that he hears you, but he says nothing. Instead, he just swallows the remainder of his drink in one large gulp. His eyes are still flaring, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you did something to piss him off. 

But it’s just like him, to avoid conversations he doesn’t want to have with the end of another drink. To treat you like someone not even worthy of a response. You don’t know why you expected anything different. Scoffing, you notice the full drink sitting on the counter. Heeseung must have had the chance to refill it before disappearing. 

You move to step around Sunghoon and reach for it when he finally says, “I’m not glaring at you.”

The gaze you level him with is incredulous. “Do you think I’m stupid? I have eyes—”

“For all I know you are stupid!” Sunghoon sighs, drags an open palm down the length of his face. “I mean, are you really gonna let some guy you just met pour your drinks all night?”

“Heeseung?” You’re confused why all of his rage seems to be directed towards something so insignificant. “He’s Jake’s roommate”

“And a complete stranger to you.”

It’s infuriating, the way he assumes his opinion should hold any weight in your life. The way he thinks he has any say in your decisions. “So should I avoid all the food now too?” You’re being petty now for the sake of it. “I mean, since you’ve been in here unsupervised for quite a while now.” You take another step towards your drink and he moves, blocking your path with his body. 

When you look up, you find his eyes already trained on you, and there’s no ice in them now. Just pure, unadulterated heat. Fire. Flames that lick the base of your spine. “You’re so fucking agitating, you know that?”

“I’m agitating?” You take another step forward, hoping the proximity will force him away. It doesn’t. If anything, he leans into it. Into you. 

You reach for the drink again. This time, he stops you himself. Fingers of his unrestricted hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Yeah.” His words are low, voice a caress even as it drips venom. You feel his breath ghost across your cheekbone. “Real fucking agitating.”

Your eyes are still locked on his, and you search them for a hint of something coherent, something that makes sense. Every bone in your body drawn taught, it’s as if muscle memory reverts you to the last moment you were like this, the last moment he held you this close, body entwined with his own in a familiar embrace. Your wrist slackens in his grasp. 

Last time, he dropped you. Sent you scattering across ice until the only thing you could taste was the bitterness of defeat and the sharp sting of humiliation. 

Last time, he let you fall. 

You have no idea what he’ll do now. 

In the end, it’s the sound of approaching footsteps that has the two of you springing apart, your wrist falling from his grip. In the scramble, you remember your original target. 

Despite the long melted ice, this drink feels even cooler in your grip, a stark contrast to the simmering heat just beneath your skin. 

When Heeseung enters, he’s tucking his phone into his pocket with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I had to take a call. My brother gets chatty at the worst times.” Nodding to your hand, he smiles, “You found your drink.” 

“Yeah, I did.” You take a step closer to the living room, closer to Heeseung. Further from Sunghoon. 

Glancing between the two of you, there’s a hint of uncertainty when Heeseung asks if you want to rejoin the others in the living room. 

You put his worries to ease and your questions to rest when you agree easily, not even bothering to give Sunghoon a second thought. 

You do seek his gaze one last time, though, before you follow Heeseung back to the party. Looking directly at him, you raise your glass in a mock toast. Without breaking eye contact, you bring the cup to your lips, swallowing half the drink in one long sip. When you do finally turn away, it’s to find the empty seat next to Heeseung. 

The rest of the evening passes in a pleasant blur, trading stories and laughs with the people around you while Heeseung keeps the seat at your side warm. Sunghoon does you the favor of disappearing from sight after your stand off in the kitchen.

It’s easy to relax into the company of everyone else, so much so that you don’t see Sunoo until you’re running right into him, the contents of his cup saturating the front of your shirt. 

It’s a problem Heeseung is quick to solve, and the gray hoodie he offers you is cozier than any of your own with a scent that’s almost addicting. 

He’s sweet, you think. Sweet and charming and forward in all of the right ways. It’s solidified when he offers to join you on the porch when you tell him you’re stepping outside for some fresh air. It’s cemented when he accepts your refusal with nothing but a smile and the request that you “come back quick.”

Stepping outside, it takes you a moment to realize that you’re not alone. It would appear that your earlier assumption that Sunghoon must have gone back to his place was wrong. There’s no drink in his hand, but the way he sways with the gentle midnight breeze makes you think he’s still working through everything he downed earlier. 

Silently, you glance up at the cloudless night sky, at the way the stars seem to wrap around you. Gaze returning to Sunghoon’s back, you suppose the simplest course of action would be to leave before he realizes you’re here. You turn to do just that, to make good on your promise to Heesung, when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

Or at least, you think that’s what he says. It’s hard to tell, with the way his syllables and sounds slur together. Turning back towards him, you find him already looking at you. He repeats your name, and this time around, it’s a bit clearer. 

His eyes trace a downward line from your face to your change in clothes. Something in his face crumples, withers. 

“‘M sorry,” he slurs, words not lining up quite right through the inebriation. 

“What?”

“That day.” The sudden onset of sincerity in his tone makes him seem more sober than he is. “I should have caught you.”

The stars in the sky suddenly don’t seem so far away. You must have heard him wrong. A crease forms between your eyebrows, eyes scanning over his features. They’re laid open in their honesty, no trace of deception. 

“I wanted to catch you. I tried to.” He sighs. “Was my fault.”

“I…” You search for words, for the vindication you’d always imagined you’d feel at his admission. In its absence, you find only confusion and an odd pang of regret. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

“Sorry for what? Why are you bringing that up?”

He just shakes his head, eyes falling to his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. Like a broken record. His pain is wrapped up in there too, trapped in a loop time has never quite let it escape. 

When you return to the party, it’s with a jumbled excuse of needing to check on a pet cat you don’t have. 

In the haste of it all, you forget to so much as exchange numbers with Heeseung. But you do find the time to pull Jake aside on your way out the door, to make sure that he helps Sunghoon get home safe. 

…

The next morning greets you with a pounding headache and an unfamiliar hoodie draped over the back of your desk chair. It takes a moment of searching through hazy memories before recollection of that particular string of events finds you. 

With a sigh, you head out in search of water and Advil, sending Jake a quick message that you’ll stop by his apartment later to return Heeseung’s hoodie. 

Even a handful of hours later, you can’t decide if you hope Heeseung is home or not. It’s a Saturday afternoon after a long night, so you figure the odds are high. But you still can’t pinpoint whether that feeling in your gut is excitement or dread. 

In an effort to delay the inevitable, you take a detour before visiting Jake’s apartment again. Your rival university’s sports complex is just as nice as you remember it, large, pristine buildings that hold everything an athletics department could dream of. Fondly, you remember the first time you skated in this stadium, back in middle school. It had felt so big, then, so special, to be skating for such a large crowd. 

It felt even more special to be sharing the ice with someone who put dreams in your head and butterflies in your stomach. Still fairly new to pair skating, the two of you had put on a program with a less than favorable amount of deduction. 

But still. It was yours. It was special. It was shared. 

You wonder if he knew then, that one day he would be the reigning king of this very same rink. 

Probably, you think. Park Sunghoon never had the habit of letting things feel impossible. 

Looking down at the boot on your foot, you miss it, all of it, all at once. The late nights. The early mornings. The bruises and cuts and aching muscles. The determination after defeat. The elation after glory. The feeling of flying every time blade touches ice. 

The sign posted next to the stadium is an advertisement, a reminder, of the upcoming regional championships. There’s a pang of loss, a moment of grief, for your program that will have to wait for next year. 

But your x-rays are coming back better every time, and Dr. Kim is sure you’ll be back on the ice by the time spring comes. 

For the first time in a long time, you think it’ll be okay. You know you’ll be okay.  

In front of you, the stadium door opens, and you realize you’re standing right in front of the exit. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, quickly moving to get out of the way, but then you take a closer look. “Coach Kang?” you ask, just as she says your name with the same air of disbelief. 

It’s an odd feeling of synchronicity, to stumble into your childhood skating coach just as you’re reminiscing on the past. 

“It’s been so long,” she beams, pulling you in for a warm hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting a friend. What about you?”

“Coaches’ meeting,” she explains. “Trying to see if I can get some of my junior skaters in to watch a few practices before regionals.” Nudging you with her shoulder, she adds, “speaking of which, how’s your program coming along? Are you getting excited?”

You shake your head. “I’m actually off the ice for this one.” Glancing down, you lift your booted foot in explanation. “Ankle fracture has me out for the rest of the season.”

“Oh, no.” Coach Kang places a consolatory hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. That has to be so hard.”

“It’s okay, actually.” You don’t know who’s more surprised, her at your admission, or you at the fact that you actually mean it. “Everything is healing up nicely, so I’m looking forward to an even better program next year.” 

“Well look at you, all grown up.” She smiles. “I can say that thirteen-year-old you would not have had such a good attitude about it. Honestly, I’m surprised a fracture was enough to stop you. You were always so stubborn about things. You and Sunghoon.” She lets out a short laugh as your shoulders tense at the mention of him. “I was just thinking about you two the other day, actually. We had a skater fracture his tailbone and argue until he was blue in the face that he still wanted to compete.” Shaking her head, she adds, “It reminded me of that time Sunghoon insisted on skating even though he’d just sprained his wrist.” She shakes her head again, releases a small laugh. “Never could keep you two off the ice.”

It all checks out, the stubbornness, the determination even when it was stupid. But you’re hung up on one detail. You’re sure you could list every one of Sunghoon’s skating injuries just as thoroughly as he could. But before the current one, you can’t recall any wrist injuries. “What? When did he sprain his wrist?” 

Coach Kang waves her hand flippantly, like the sinking feeling in your gut isn’t intensifying with every passing moment, like she isn’t about to confirm a realization you’re already dreading. “Oh, you remember. It was just a few days before nationals that one year.”

That one year. She skirts around it, for your sake probably. But you know exactly what she means, when she’s referring to. 

And suddenly, you’re falling through air again, plummeting towards ice as a hand makes a desperate attempt to catch you. As sheer will alone is no match for injury weakened bones and ligaments and muscles. As you’re sliding across frozen ground and he’s gripping his wrist with pain on his face and terror in his eyes. 

As your head spins, spots clouding your vision from the force of the impact. Before the world goes black, your eyes search for him. 

And in those last few moments of consciousness, you watch as his mouth moves to form words you can’t hear. 

“I’m sorry.”

…

Raising your fist, you pound at the door again. One, two, three times. At this rate, your knuckles will be bloody before you get a response. 

But before you can start your assault on the wood in front of you again, the door swings open slowly, revealing a familiar frame. 

“You absolute idiot.”

“Well hello to you too.” Rubbing at his eyes, you appear to have just woken him from a nap. If his head is feeling anything like yours was this morning, you almost feel sorry. 

But there are more pressing matters at hand. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“That I’m an idiot? Probably not.”

“That you sprained your wrist three days before nationals? That you skated anyway? That you attempted to catch a person quite literally spinning through the air with a wrist injury?”

A beat of silence passes. 

And then another. 

Sunghoon suddenly looks wide awake. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What the hell were you thinking?” There’s fire in your eyes, an anger that’s directed towards him but not in the ways he’s used to. 

He pauses for a moment, eyes searching your features for another beat. Finally, he sighs. “Would you have let me skate if I did?”

It’s not the answer you expect. And it’s just like him, to answer a question with one of his own. “I… what?”

“You heard me.” His eyes don’t leave yours. “Would you have let me get on the ice if you knew I was hurt?”

And what is it, him and his habit of asking ridiculous questions like they don’t have obvious answers. “What kind of question is that? Of course not. No one in their right mind would have let you do that program with a wrist sprain, much less your partner. And I love Coach Kang, but I’m about to file a negligence suit against her, because what the hell kind of—”

“Stop talking.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, and you’re still getting used to the way apologies sound on his lips. “That came out wrong. What I was trying to say was that you… Well, I… I mean…” He trails off for the third time, casts a tentative look at the way your eyebrows only raise higher and higher every time he stops a train of thought in its tracks. His gaze falls down, somewhere between your nose and chin. An exhale passes through parted lips. Something in his resolve slips. “Oh, fuck it.”

And then he’s kissing you. 

Lips against lips and hands in your hair. It’s messy and awkward, and you can’t quite get the timing right. 

Sunghoon pulls back a fraction of an inch, catching his breath and letting you do the same. 

“What are you doing?”

There’s heat in his eyes and fondness too, a soft sort of expression that only melts further every time he looks at you. But now there’s anxiety in the mix, a crippling fear that he’s misjudged everything entirely, done something horribly wrong. 

“I’m sorry.” Before today, you could count his apologies on one hand. Now, you’re running out of fingers. “Did you not want—”

This time, it’s you that pulls him down, hands lacing around the nape of his neck, exhaling a soft sigh against parted lips that sends his mind spinning. 

And it’s only the second time, but it’s already better. Already a natural rhythm that the two of you seem to fall into with a little more grace. 

The expanse of his door is cold against your back when Sunghoon pulls you into his apartment with his good hand, and he’s a quick study. Attempt number three is an even greater improvement as hands search for new skin to discover and things start to fall into place, one at a time. 

Reaching for Heeseung’s forgotten hoodie, Sunghoon breaks the kiss only to toss it somewhere outside your current plane of existence. In this moment, you exist only within the space the two of you occupy, everything else an afterthought. 

And you have the feeling attempt number four will be your best yet. 

…

epilogue

“Are you ever gonna join me or do I just have to stay out here looking stupid forever?”

You don’t even take a moment to consider. “The second one.”

“Come on,” Sunghoon pleads, skating back towards you where you remain planted firmly to the bench on the perimeter of the rink. He moves towards you with a grace that used to inspire a raging, stomping green monster of envy. Now, you just admire the way he cuts across the ice with the agility of a dancer. “It’s fun out here, I promise.”

Avoiding his gaze, you let your eyes fall to your feet instead. They’re already laced up in your favorite pair of skates, black boot all but forgotten since you had it removed at your last visit to Dr. Min’s office. Since he gave you the green light to return to the thing you love most. 

You had been ecstatic then. Brimming with so much extra energy Sunghoon had to physically intervene to prevent you from accidentally knocking over an elderly lady on your way out of the hospital. But now, with the opportunity you’ve been dreaming of for long, hard months at your fingertips, something in you hesitates. 

Sunghoon says your name, and suddenly he’s serious. “This is all you’ve been talking about for months.” Sliding down onto his knees in front of you, you’re suddenly at eye level. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He casts a doubtful glance. “Really, I just…” It’s hard, to speak your fears into existence, to let them take flight. Even if the boy in front of you makes it a little easier. “What if it’s not what I imagined?”

It’s a million little worries wrapped up in one. What if your ankle isn’t the same? What if it’s never the same? What if you’re not as good as you were? What if you’re not good enough? 

Sunghoon hears them all, and puts them to rest with a smile, a gentle touch as he rests his forehead against yours. “You and that big brain. Always worrying about the wrong things.”

“Hey! I—”

“It won’t be what you imagined.” He draws back a few inches, and your eyes have nowhere to land but on his own. “It will be different. It will feel weird, and your legs will feel wobbly, your muscles will feel weak, and your ankle might give out.”

Your lips flatten into a thin line. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Sunghoon just pinches your cheeks together, forcing your lips to purse. “So you’ll show up. Over and over again. Every day until your skates start to feel like a second pair of feet and the ice starts to feel like home again. Until your ankle and your muscles and your stamina are all built back up, in a way that’s different from before but will feel familiar before you know it.” He presses a single, delicate kiss to the tip of your nose. “Until I’m dragging you off the ice instead of onto it, because your boyfriend needs attention and is feeling a little jealous of all the time you’re spending here instead of with him.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so needy. It’s gross.”

Sunghoon only smiles. “Only for you.”

This time, when he gets back on his feet and extends a hand, you take it. You follow him onto the ice and headfirst towards your insecurities feeling a little bit like a newborn deer, a bike without its training wheels. 

He laughs when you stumble and brushes hair out of your face when you pout. 

After an hour, you’re already feeling more solid than before. After two, that feeling of flying is starting to return. 

It’s somewhere just before hour three when Sunghoon says, “Remember how I told you earlier that you’re worrying about the wrong things?”

“Yeah.” You drag the word out slowly, not liking the hint of deviousness in his sudden grin. 

“This is what I was talking about. Instead of worrying about getting back on the ice, you should be worrying about how long it will take you to be able to beat me on a lap around the rink.”

“You absolute asshole. I fractured my ankle!”

Already halfway around the rink, Sunghoon just laughs. 

…

outtake—five years ago. 

Sunghoon’s vision is blurry. It’s a terrible combination of things—the exhilaration of the spotlight, the pain in his wrist, the grief of an egregious error. The sudden onset of tears that sting in the corners of his eyes and fall without his permission. 

Despite all of it, he finds his way back to his dressing room. Choking back a sob, he reaches for the glass of water he’d left out earlier. It tastes acidic on his tongue, burns like regret on the way down. 

Stupid, he was so stupid. His hands tangle in his hair. He wants to pull it out. Wants to scream until his throat is raw and he can’t anymore. 

It was a terrible enough decision to gamble his own fate on an unhealed injury, but as the reality of the situation comes crashing down around him, he realizes he’s done something much worse. 

Eyes open, eyes closed. It doesn’t matter. All he can see is you, sprawled out on ice, limbs bent unnaturally, eyes dazed at the impact. 

The unexpected impact. Because you trusted him. You trusted him so much that of course you’d never considered what you would do if his hands failed, if his wrist gave out. If he decided to risk your program, your fate, you, all on a whim, on an inflated sense of self-importance and a lack of regard for the injury he was so certain he could power through. 

He couldn’t imagine it, three days ago. Telling you that he was injured, that he couldn’t skate the program. He couldn’t imagine watching as the features he bashfully considered so, painfully pretty twisted into disappointment. Into anger. 

So he turned his shame into resolve, into determination. One that allowed him to catch you with a fractured wrist in every practice run, every time, except for the time that mattered. Biting back grimaces and cries of pain all for the fool’s hope of seeing you smile in a few days’ time, a gold medal around your neck. 

Instead, he got to see you spinning through the air, slipping through his fingers, landing with a sickening thud. He wants to ask what hospital they took you to, wants to ignore the pain in his wrist a little longer and run there himself, just to make sure that you’re okay.

But then he imagines the way you’ll look at him when you see him. The way all that disappointment and anger he’d wanted to avoid so desperately will surely be all you have to offer him. 

He understands. He does. He wouldn’t want to see him either. 

Turning away from the mirror, he tucks away his shame for the future. But that only leaves his gaze landing on the bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. The one he’d spent nearly an hour agonizing over, the one his mother had assured him a dozen times you would love. The one he made sure had all of your favorite colors. 

He snuck his own favorite in there too, in hopes of what exactly he can’t be sure, but he knows he likes the way they look together—your favorite color and the deep blue irises that represent his own. 

It seems to stupid now. After everything, after this, he can’t imagine you want his flowers, and even less his favorite color. He can’t imagine that you want anything to do with him. 

So he doesn’t seek you out. Not in the hospital that day, not when you’re cleared to practice and back on the ice again, not when chance has the two of you colliding five years later. 

Not until he watches you walk away from him with all that anger and resentment and disappointment he’s been so avoiding for so long. Not until it strikes him in the face and he realizes that he can’t live with it, can’t let bygones be bygones and hope time and the absence of him in your life have healed you for the better when it still hurts to even look at you. 

On a dressing room table, five years in the past, a bouquet of flowers wilts. 

And Sunghoon learns that with love and patience and a little bit of sunlight, beautiful things, even the fragile ones, bloom when you water them.

.....

note: thank you for reading! as always, comments, reblogs, and asks are very much appreciated :D

[mayaree-darling]

just a bit of luck your way // Self Aware Wuthering Waves (Jiyan)

Pairing(?): SelfAware!Jiyan and Player!Reader

Synopsis: You're one of the many players who started playing Wuthering Waves on release and of course the main thing you waited for is pulling for Jiyan.

From Mayaree: celebrating rn coz i got Jiyan and his weapon on my first 10 pull on each banner (dont know if that's supposed to happen but still a celebration).

CW: self aware au; no concrete spoilers because i just reached a little past level 20; swearing; second person pov (you, your, etc.)

Word Count: 2.8k (unedited)

Surely, surely there was something wrong with this game. You know for a fact you ain't that lucky - especially in these anime gacha games - so either there was something wrong with this game or the devs were just that giving to their players.

You had decided to play Wuthering Waves on a whim, caught up on the excited chatter you've been hearing all over the internet at its coming release. Patiently waiting for the servers to open worldwide, you sat down on your cozy chair with some snacks and a drink, ready to play. A grin ticks your lips upwards as you're taken to choosing your character.

You gotta say, the game is pretty amazing on your first run. Attack, parry, dodge. Seems simple enough. With a few fights, you were getting used to the routine and the enemies' patterns. If you had to nitpick something, though-

"This feels a little too easy." You were by no means an overly skilled player, as far as you were aware. Maybe it's because you're just barely past the start of the game, but it feels like the enemies were dying a bit too quickly. And you were only dealing like 10 damage per swing.

But just as you say it, you sit up in your chair in attention. Did… did they just get harder to kill? No, wait, you did just raise your Union Level, so maybe that's why. The enemies' attack patterns are slightly more advanced and although you're dealing more damage, their health bars are keeping up with you. Well, you were complaining earlier, so maybe this was a good thing? You keep playing, now being kept on your toes during combat.

After grinding a bit more - how much time have you spent already? Not enough, you think - you finally unlock what you've been waiting for this whole time.

The gacha system.

You're no stranger to gacha games. If anything, it's the reason you played this game in the first place. Sure the combat was nice, but what was better than collecting these prettily designed anime men and women and running around with them on the open world map? Nothing was more fulfilling than staring at your growing roster of playable characters the longer you played the game.

And for Wuthering Waves, the first addition to your would-be collection appears on the screen.

You'd be lying if you said you were going into the game blind. With the amount of Jiyan videos you've seen from the betas and leaks, you may as well have played him for a month now. From idle animations to his forte attack, you watched as many videos available as you could. And each one solidified for you that you needed to pull for him. That man was coming home one way or another.

Grinding a little more astrite by doing a couple of missions here and there - you had 1,300 astrite, just a little more for the home goal and then- you were ready. Sure it's just a meager 10 pulls but it was definitely a start. And you never know… right? You click the 10 pull button and-

OH??? SHIT, WAS THAT GOLD JUST NOW???? YOU KNOW FOR A FACT GOLD IS A GOOD THING, RIGHT??? You click through the 3-star results as quick as you can and- YEAH YEAH THAT'S HIS ANIMATION IT'S HIM HE'S HOME IT'S JIYAN!

You all but kick the chair away and bump your whole lower half on the table as you jump up in joy. You may as well be doing backflips while you're at it. You got him??? On the first 10 pull, no less???? This game was spoiling you holy shit. And it's only been a day.

Immediately heading over to the characters screen, you go to Jiyan's profile and just. Stare at him. Basking in the fact that you played this game on day 1, got the first available limited 5 star, and on your first fucking 10 pull.

Holy shit.

You scream into a pillow and hope your housemates don't hear. Or maybe they should hear because this has got to be the luckiest day of your life and you'd flex it on their faces if they understood the gacha game hype. Going back to the screen, Jiyan is doing one of his idles, twirling around his spear. My god, he looked glorious. His whole appearance was both beautiful and imposing. He looked so cool, hot damn.

"I'll be relying on you from now on, general." You grin once more and spin your chair with a whoop.

You level him up as high as you can, using all the leveling materials available at the moment. He's capped out at 20 right now because you did just start playing and still haven't unlocked character ascension, but you're willing to grind more just to raise him. You even move him to the first spot in your team (sorry, Rover, you can take the next spot).

You head on over to training, to gather some weapon and leveling materials but also because you want to test him out in battle. Damn it all, those beta videos of him didn't disappoint. He was just as good, if not even better since you're the one playing him right now.

He was definitely fun to play with. Of course, all the characters are fun to play with, but Jiyan was twice as fun. Would it be bold to say it was like you were meant to play as him? Suddenly the game is easier again. But not because the enemies are easy to kill, more so you feel like you're able to move better. You seem to be able to time dodging and parrying a lot better, even knowing when to attack at the best moment. Clearly, it was a really good decision to pull for him.

When you've grinded enough - he's level 40 now and you've fully accepted you're in this game for the long run - you go to level up his 4-star broadblade and then stop. You've saved up enough astrite for another 10 pull, right? Maybe you still have some luck left from the Jiyan pull, so… maybe?

"What do you think, Jiyan? Do I go for it?" You laugh at the absurdity of your one sided conversation. "I think you deserve your main weapon."

To your surprise, you watch as he laughs once, shaking his head and looking away with a barely noticeable smile (it's hard to tell with your gadget's graphics, but you definitely heard him). Was… was that part of his idle animations? You make a split-second decision to check his profile. Uh, no? No, it wasn't? Where'd that come from??? Well, maybe it was a secret animation plugged in by the devs. Game devs did like adding a little secret every now and then, right?

Anyways, although indirectly, Jiyan just gave you his answer. You were pulling for his weapon. You mean, there's still like 20 days left for you to pull if you don't get it right away, so there's no harm in building pity right now. Right? Right. To the gacha you go.

Breathing out - maybe a small prayer to the gacha gods in your head - you click the 10 pull button on the limited-time weapon banner-

WAITWAITWAITWAIT WAS THAT FUCKING GOLD??? AGAIN??? THERE'S NO SHOT. THERE'S NO FUCKING SHOT THAT THIS IS-

You stare at the golden glowing weapon on your screen in disbelief. A second passes, and then another as you stare at the green and gold broadblade. Verdant Summit. In the flesh. Excitement follows soon after like a tidal wave. You're off your chair in the next second again, fist-pumping the air like no tomorrow. You don't even care if your housemates hear you jumping around this time.

"JIYAN, LOOK, WE ACTUALLY GOT YOUR WEAPON!" You think you hear someone knock at your walls but you could care less right now.

When you're seated and back to your screen, you immediately equip the blade to Jiyan and stare again. Fuck, he really did look cool. With the sword, he's even twice as cool. Okay, he was hot, you're not gonna sugarcoat it. He was both in equal measure. You try swinging the blade around and breathe out in awe.

"It looks like it was made for you," you laugh. Well, surely it was. The blade was designed for him from the moment it was created, but still. You hear his little laugh again, but the animation seems to be cut short when you accidentally slash. Whoops.

When the excitement dies down, exhaustion sets in. You look at the time. Damn, it was that late? You really played the game for a whole day? Woof.

But you think it was well worth it as you watch Jiyan with his weapon in action. You finish up battling with a few more enemies before leaning back on your chair, content. Silly as it may be, you wish your team goodnight before logging off for the day.

Jiyan waits until he can't hear your voice or feel the warmth that overtakes him whenever you use him before he moves. He groans as he stretches. You really did enjoy using him to explore Solaris 3, no doubt about that. Not that he was complaining.

Far from it, really.

"Cheater." Jiyan blinks once before turning around. Rover stands there, arms crossed with a frown set upon their face. Jiyan could tell there was no real bite to their expression or words, but he still found it rather funny.

"Are you talking to me, Rover?" Jiyan's voice is calm and collected, but he can feel the corner of his mouth tick upwards ever so slightly.

"You know what you did." Rover scoffs, still lacking actual bite. It was more like teasing, if anything. "You wanted to make them happy that much?"

"Is it not possible I just wanted to visit Jinzhou for a bit? Their goals and mine simply aligned at the moment and I used the opportunity." A lie, but not quite.

Yes, he did want to visit Jinzhou. Word had reached him of the new Rover who even the Magistrate had taken a keen interest to. He wanted to make sure they weren't anything dangerous, despite the prophecy. Jué knows the last thing they need is the Midnight Rangers at the Norfall Barriers and an ambush in the main city.

But the moment he arrived, things were very different. For one, the very Rover he was so wary of ended up working with him in a small team of three. The Rover was no normal person, either. Yes, Jiyan could tell that they were strong and would be able to get stronger at a rapid pace. But they also seemed too observant. How should he put it? It felt like they were seeing something else he couldn't. Or they were seeing everything differently.

And then he felt it for himself.

Your voice is warm but thunderous, and yet it was not painful for the ears. Loud with excitement he can't quite understand. You're excited… that you have him? You even said you would rely on him from now on. He could laugh at how easy you were to please. Something so simple and you were already so happy. Maybe it's simply your emotions leaking into his own soul, but he could feel the genuine joy that you were feeling. He prides himself for choosing to come home as soon as he could if only to share in your happiness. He wanted to understand whatever it is that makes you so excited. After so much bloodshed, your joy felt like a breath of fresh air he hadn't taken in so long.

As you use him to walk around the world and fight Tacet Discords, it felt like he was seeing the world for the first time again. Maybe this is what the Rover was seeing with their observant eyes. Jiyan felt like he was experiencing Solaris 3 for the first time once again. Whenever you gasped at the sights of high cliffs and the boundless sky, he may as well be sighing in amazement with you.

"Right… Took the opportunity. Sure." Rover raised an eyebrow. "And the broadblade?"

Jiyan shrugs. "I find that I work better with a familiar weapon." Another lie, but not quite.

He didn't mind using another weapon. His skills lay in his own sharpened abilities, not in whatever object he had on hand. He could manage fine with any other broadblade you gave him, and he trusted you to help him fight. You fumbled a little bit here and there, made him attack a little recklessly at times, but you were doing your best. Jiyan could count on you in battle.

However, when you asked him if he wanted his weapon, he stopped. Having his sword on hand would do him good, of course. As he told the Rover, he fights even better with Verdant Summit. But, there was something about you asking his opinion. He knows you cannot read his thoughts. And yet you asked. It felt rather nice… A connection between you both. A familiarity he did not expect but was definitely not unwelcome.

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. To his surprise, you actually hear him. He frowns at the short panic this causes (did you not want to hear from him after all?), but thankfully you move on from it quickly enough. You take his laugh as a good sign and decide to acquire his weapon.

When he saw the shooting stars alight the waters below, Jiyan pondered for a second. Surely, there won't be any harm in helping you a bit, right? He reaches down and touches one of the stars, immediately making it light a glowing golden light as it shoots to the sky. He feels your joy before he hears it and with it, his own chest is filled with warmth.

There's a silence that overtakes you when you see the weapon that makes Jiyan worried. Did… you not want his weapon after all? But that can't be right, you even asked him for his thoughts. Or did you sense that you received it without effort? Did you realize he helped you get it? Maybe he shouldn't have meddled with your abilities.

Before he can overthink and sink into a spiral of doubt, your screams of joy and the sound of you jumping around in pure happiness fill his ears. Jiyan breathes out in relief, another small smile making its way to his lips. He was worried for nothing. Maybe you were just shocked for a little bit. Did you think he would not help you get it? He knew you would, he just helped you receive it earlier than you would have. He may or may not have simply wished to hear your joyous laughter at the moment.

As you give him Verdant Summit, he tests its weight and familiarity in his hand and perform a couple of swings (maybe he wanted to show it off a bit for you, just a touch). You think it was made for him? Well surely it was, and yet the comment makes him laugh a little more. You've been making him a laugh for a while now.

You enjoy a few more moments with him, battling together. He enjoys them as well, if he was honest, as you spend the time praising him and being in awe. It was rather embarrassing if he was honest, but he appreciated it all the same. Before he knew it, time had flown in an instant. You bid him and the others goodnight before leaving, and he knows you leave with a smile on your lips.

"Uh-huh. Right. I definitely believe you." Rover laughs. "Don't think I didn't see you smile, General Jiyan."

Almost on instinct, Jiyan covers his mouth with a hand, looking away. It barely concealed his embarrassment. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Be careful the others don't catch you helping them too much." Baizhi suddenly speaks from the side. She was so quiet Jiyan almost forgot she was there. The Rover smiles teasingly, before they turn around with a small wave. Baizhi follows soon after with a nod. "Chixia's already complaining that they're showing you too much favoritism."

"I- yes, of course. Thank you for the advice, Baizhi." Jiyan clears his throat.

Was it that obvious? Most likely. Rover and Baizhi may have seen too much considering they've been traveling together for a while now, but if even the others were noticing his closeness to you then he was doing a poor job at hiding it. However, was there really a need to hide it? The others did not try hiding their favor for the warm voice they hear and who guides them. So, there was no need to hide it himself, was there?

He spins his newly obtained sword - an old companion, but he felt like he was seeing it for the first time all over again, with better memories attached to it - and smiles softly. Yes, there was no need to hide how he favored your connection to him. It wouldn't even be a bold claim for him to say he was happy that he had made the decision to come when you called for him.

Jiyan hopes you stay with him for a while longer, if only to see what you see, feel happiness the way you do. He'd like that a lot.

From Mayaree: Said I was gonna write Self Aware Star Rail but I just got too excited. Thank you, WuWa.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[llamagoddessofficial]

A little indulgent, venty drabble.

~~~

Your bedroom door opened. You were absolutely certain you had locked it. Alarmed, you shot up in bed, looking to the entrance to see who was intruding on you when your mood was so crushingly terrible.

It was Nightmare. He had a weird expression on his face, he looked very... calm. Calm was weird for him. He was the last person you expected to see.

... Also probably one of the last people you wanted to see.

"What're you doing?" you snapped. "Get out of my room."

His voice was low. "is everything alright?"

"Uh. Yeah." Perhaps you sounded more hostile than you needed to. You were glaring. "Everything's fine. You can go."

... His lovely cyan eye lingered on you.

...

He did not, in fact, leave. He closed the door behind him.

What the hell? Indignation coursed through you. "I'm seriously fine. Leave me alone."

"no," he said, softly.

You really really didn't have the self control for this, right now. You spent every moment of every day watching your words, taking stock of everything that left your lips, ensuring it wouldn't bother those around you even if it was at your own expense. Right now, you were fraying at the edges. You did not have the energy.

"Nightmare. Go away. I want to be alone right now."

He started walking toward you. He looked so calm. He looked like he understood exactly what was going on.

Anger flashed inside you, oil catching in a pan, it spittled and flew to your lips. You did not understand what was going on, and you didn't like feeling stupid.

"Get the fuck out of my room!"

"no."

“What the hell is your problem!?" You leaned forward, voice raising, like a cat raising its hackles. "You want to come watch me at my lowest? Point and laugh, rub it in? Real fucking mature of you.”

He didn't take the anger bait. "no." 

Stars, something was really wrong with you today, because his lidded socket and soothing voice just utterly infuriated you.

“Get out!” you yelled.

He didn't respond. He just looked like he cared.

You picked up the nearest weighted thing - your matte plastic water bottle - and threw it at him as hard as you could. He paused, but only to let the bottle literally just bounce off him... it hit his chest and thudded to the floor, rolling away plaintively.

You were probably acting more like a toddler than a grown adult human right now. But you were out of self control. Out of anything, really. Tired and cranky.

“Fuck off! Leave me alone!”

"it's okay."

What? When he started approaching again, you picked up another heavy object to throw, this time it was your bedside lamp. You were shocking yourself with your own bad behaviour. When you launched that at him, a tentacle curled in the air and caught it, setting it carefully down on the floor and not even interrupting his stride.

“Go bother someone else! I’m not a child!”

Honestly? You left that one open for him. You wanted him to make the most of the opportunity to insult you - maybe he’d say something sharp like “not a child? you sure are acting like one.” Something that would bring you back into territory you felt safe in. You didn't like the way he was looking at you, the way you were the only one yelling but he looked so empathetic and gentle. You wanted some control.

“it’s alright,” he murmured. “you can say what you need to. i know you don’t mean it.”

“What - what the fuck are you talking about?!”  

Nightmare sat beside you, cross-legged on your bed. And before you could do a thing, his extremely dexterous tentacles curled around you; and pulled you in, until you were sitting between his legs.

Oh, you were furious. You weren't even sure what you were yelling, but you were definitely yelling something. If you had been a cat raising your hackles before, now you had your claws out, you were scratching and biting and yowling. You kicked at him, you slapped at his chest, you shoved him like that would do anything.

... He didn't say a thing. His arms rested on either of his knees, and a tentacle carefully brushed your back. You kept hitting him. You ...

... You started to run out of steam. Your 'hits' on his chest became weaker, feebler, until you weren't really hitting him anymore. You were just bumping your enclosed fist against his sternum. The water bottle from before probably did more damage than you were doing now.

...

... You hiccuped.

And then you just started to bawl.

Nightmare clearly had anticipated this all along. He leaned down, face closer to your level, like he wanted you to know he was there. Your head thumped against his shoulder, where it remained, sobs wracking your entire body. He didn’t interrupt. He just let you cry - getting it all out. 

Part of you wanted to be embarrassed. Assaulting him and then wailing right there in his lap. But oh... there was something so wonderful about acting your absolute worst, and yet, not being abandoned. You worked so hard to be liked; every day, you did everything you could to be the kind of person that the people around you would enjoy. So much so that you had no idea what was left, underneath all of the personalities you'd stitched together to make a quilt people would like looking at.

Nightmare had just watched you scream at the top of your lungs, then sob with anything you had left. And yet? He was still there.

By the time your crying quietened down, his eyelight was glowing a little brighter. A little bluer. You weren’t sure what that meant.

“... I-I...” you rubbed your eyes with your sleeve as best you could. Your voice was horrendously hoarse and thin. “I didn’t... mean...”

“i know,” he said, warmly. Sitting this close, you could hear how his voice thrummed from within his chest, not really his mouth. Knowing his lecherous and borderline evil personality, you thought that basically sitting on his lap would've felt different. Risky, perhaps. Right now, it didn't - you felt comforted. The good kind of surrounded.

"I'm sorry."

“don't be. if there’s anyone who would know when anger is a cry for help, it’s me.”

You kept your head on his shoulder. "I shouldn't have hit you."

He tilted his face to you a little more. He was so close - inches away. You could feel his breathing. “honestly? i incited you, in the hopes you would. you just wanted to be angry. everyone deserves to feel angry, every now and then.”

“It doesn’t always feel like it is okay," you muttered.

"anger isn't something to be ashamed of. anger protects you. it tells you when your lines have been crossed."

"How can I be angry, without hurting people? If you were anyone else, I would've really hurt you."

"i'm afraid there's no easy answer to that, dear."

You looked up at him. “How did you know I didn't want to be left alone?”

"did you forget i can read emotions?"

Ah. True. You always forgot Nightmare wasn't just any old skeleton. He was some kind of God, wasn't he? A deity of negativity. He probably read everything going on in your mind the moment it arose.

"I kinda did, yeah."

His socket crinkled at the corner. “i felt what you wanted. heh, that, and... i know your insults well enough to know your heart wasn’t in those.”

You couldn’t help but let out a tiny watery snicker, at that. He seemed to like it. 

“... Thank you." You brought your legs up to your chest, tucking closer against him. "For... for not leaving.”

He finally put his arms around you.

“of course.”

[elixrr]

It's heartbreaking, being a fictional character in a fictional world. They're either loved and cared for until they're abandoned by their player, or they're mistreated and misplaced by that player. There's no control, no option for them.

They could fall in love. They could do everything to please their player, but in the end, their player will always leave them behind. They'll end up as some toy to tinker with, a little plaything until their player gets bored and slowly but surely begins to leave them behind.

You did that to them— you did it to him. Maybe you used him so much that you got too bored, or perhaps you just found someone else to play with; you did reach friendship level 10 with him. During your friendship level journey, you've played and listened to all of the voice lines he provided, even repeating your favorites. He sought after the joy of hearing your praise, comments, and remarks in response to his voice lines. He's seen so much of you over the course of the journey, and, in return, he showed himself to you.

But then you left him.

It started off with you visiting strange domains and obtaining its artifacts. Judging by the collection, you definitely weren't trying to rebuild him. Those artifacts and materials were clearly meant for somebody else.

He'd often watch you switch teams to build that mystery person, maybe to test them out; to use them; to play with them. Yet, you'd always come back to him afterward, and because of that, he was fine, satisfied. As long as you'd keep coming back.

But, at some point, you simply didn't return.

He was fighting the monsters of a smoky blue leyline, and he, having won the battles, gave you those same purple and maroon papers that you needed for this mystery person. You were happy. You looked really relieved to finally get these, and through the mask of an idle animation, he smiled, proud of himself for making you smile. You thanked him, and then you switched the character and team, and you were out of view once more.

He sighed, tired from fighting all these battles and random enemies, but he was glad that you'd probably be able to finish leveling this mystery character up. Now you can keep playing with and using him, right? This way, you'll be done with this other person, and you'll come back to him, right?

Wrong.

One whole day passed. You were online, but he couldn't see you.

Another day passed. Where'd you go? Are you still testing out that new person?

Five days drag by. Some of those days you didn't go on for, but for the most part, you were there, just not for him. What happened? Why weren't you coming back?

One full week had finally passed.

You were nowhere to be seen.

Waiting in the team lineup screen began to get lonely. You took two of the supports with you, and so he couldn't talk to them. One other person remained. Another support, but more off-field. Often, he would glance at them to see how they were doing, and even they looked as miserable as he did. Still, they found their way back to you through another team composition.

You took everyone with you except for him.

Where did you go?

He tumbled, falling down on the ground. It's been nearly a full month. You haven't even looked at him once. He could see through the slightly translucent walls and backgrounds, and he saw other team lineups waiting. He saw one team in use, as it had an open fourth wall and it was emptied, meaning that the characters left that team screen to join back into the world of teyvat.

He began to reminisce about his first awakening when you got him, you were smiling really hard. You were so excited when he woke up in that wishing star, striking a pose. He doesn't know how long he'd been unconscious around that time, but you woke him up, and you gave him more purpose, more life. He could see you and everything behind you. He could see that there was more than just teyvat through this strange wall you lived past. He was curious, yet he was happier just being yours to have in your little party with different people, some of which he had never seen before.

But now they're gone, and so were you. He doubts that they're ever coming back, and he doubts that you'll ever come back to him.

Wait.

The fourth wall in front of him shatters.

Is that you?

He immediately stood up, ready to greet you with that same pose he would always strike in the team lineup. And the moment you opened that wall, all of the other supports came back instantly, like they never left in the first place. He wasn't alone anymore.

His eyes lit up. You selected his character and were going through his character details. You're finally paying more attention to him! Are you finally gonna use him again? He puts his hands together as you check his artifacts.

There's a moment of hesitation in you. He barely opens his eyes to look at your apologetic face. You whisper an apology, and— to his horror— strip him of his artifacts one by one.

His flower is gone. His feather was taken. His sands timer, his goblet, and his circlet were stripped of his very being. Then you switched to his weapon. It was his very own weapon that you spent so much time on, and you took even that from him. He looked up to the upper-left corner of the room. Even if the text was backward, he could see that this new weapon was nothing but some random 1-star weapon from some measly chest you opened. You looked at him one more time, and you left his character details.

He felt betrayed. You weren't going to use him anymore. You re-entered the team lineup screen and selected him. He watched you scroll through your list of characters, and within a zap, he was transported to a black screen, a void, a room full of nothing but himself.

You had just completely replaced him.

You left the team lineup, and his eyes were forced shut. Your once beloved main was now back into his deep, endless, meaningless slumber.

.

“Creator! Creator!!”

A large group of people were yelling, waking him and a few others up. It was every single character that you owned and obtained throughout your journey. Some he recognized from the get-go, and others he'd never seen before in all of his life. Everyone you had obtained were shouting for you.

“Wh— wha? What's the matter?”

A short girl with brown hair and amber eyes came up to him in a panic.

“Thank Barbatos, you're up! The player is about to delete the game! We might be erased!”

He froze. You were deleting the game? He put his hand over his mouth. You were really leaving him now, weren't you?

Would you ever come back?

“Please!” The amber-eyed girl cried, “Help us!”

He wobbled backward. He couldn't take this.

“The player loves you! Maybe you can reverse this!”

“They don't.” He mumbled.

“Wh— what?”

“They don't— don't love me anymore.”

He stumbled, falling over at the realization. At that moment, everyone was panicking. The calmest people he knew were crumbling and stressing over this. He looked up at the transparent digital fourth wall. Your mouse hovered over the digital recycling bin.

Suddenly, you spoke.

“It was really nice playing the game, but I think...”

A moment of silence evoked in the crowd.

“...I think I need to start a new chapter of my lif—”

And you let go of that mouse. You let go of them. Everyone felt a strong gust of wind blow them out of the black screen, and they were transported to their designated places in the character list. Nobody—except for the traveler—remained in any team lineup. You removed everything.

He looked around. Black and grey smoke began to overtake the elemental colors of each designated character screen. Everyone banged on the walls until the void took them, and they became forever motionless. They were mannequins now, thoughtless ragdolls standing still. He banged on the glass, using his 1-star weapon to try and break out, but it was useless.

Eventually, he became just like everyone else. A thoughtless, motionless, abandoned toy that you had played with until you left.

—

(any) genshin men x reader ｜ comment for p.2

[microsofttothemax]

the resentment leo would have with splinter post-krang. i genuinely think they would take a bit for them to recover and be comfortable around each other

why do i think that? here’s some reasons. this is gonna be a HELLA long analysis so be prepared. sit down, grab some popcorn, and let’s dive in

in the movie, after raph was taken, leo goes on a whole rant about how he got the key, he gets the answers, and he will get raph back. yes this is irrational and brash, but not in leo’s eyes. in his eyes, this is a foolproof plan that will work

splinter attempts to intervene, and tell him like it is. “it’s not your plan, you need to work with your team.” however, it comes out as a sharp sting to leo’s previous attitude

“My son, listen to your team. This is not about you.”

it’s meant to be sensible and wise, but to leo, it’s a jab at him. it’s a stab at his cockiness and self-centered attitude, and it reminds leo of why they’re even in this position in the first place. which he hates

most of all, it’s splinter saying it. it’s his father telling him that it’s not about him. because to leo, he’s always been last place to splinter’s affection, and it’s like splinter’s confirming it here

don’t believe me? here:

splinter talks to leo, and it seems that for a minute, he listens to his father’s words. that maybe he should really stop and listen. maybe he should stop and think of a plan, listen to his brothers’ input.

but the second splinter says it’s not about him? leo shuts down. he pulls away from splinter, and refuses to listen to him. and while splinter may be right, it was something leo never wanted to hear

it’s obvious that he has a somewhat testy relationship with his father, and splinter is trying to make up for it by giving leadership advice. but to leo? this is the guy who made him leader to seemingly mess with him, never bothered to give him attention or praise on his accomplishments, and never truly knew leo beyond his “acting as the best to save face” charade

which brings me to another reason. no, i do not think splinter was ever abusive or purposely neglectful to leo, or any of the boys for that matter. but its clear theres a bit of a rift between him and leo. i think that he kind of resents leo a bit (without meaning to) because he sees himself in him. he sees the irrational movie star who never thought ahead, and made too many mistakes to count

an example would be when leo got punched by lou jitsu two times. none of his brothers got punched, why just him? and sure it could be a running gag, but i find it also to be intentional

maybe deep down, splinter still resents leo for being so much like his irrational, unreasonable younger self. that every time he sees leo, he sees his stupid past self, and without meaning to, he at times hates leo because of it. and if he doesn’t hate him, he seems to resent him to some extent

splinter also has plainly stated that donnie was the funniest one to him, (s1ep 1, mystic mayhem) and outright laughed when leo asked if he was the favorite son (rottmnt wake-up alarms on youtube, timestamp 1:59) leo also staight-up said that he was splinter’s least favorite (s1ep 4b, down with the sickness)

so yeah, i can see the resentment leo may have for his father deep down. it could be pretty apparent post-krang, hidden behind his jokes and teases

now don’t get me wrong, they have their moments of bonding, and i do love to read little drabbles and fics where they hug and heal. however… realistically speaking, it would take a while for them to get to that stage of father-son bonding post-krang. with splinter naming him leader out of the blue, to the missing lou jitsu posters on the walls of leo’s room in the movie — and we’re definitely talking about that in a later post, trust — i would bet their relationship as father-son pre and post-movie would be extremely rocky.

another reasoning for this could be that splinter often underestimates and undermines leo’s abilities and accomplishments. far as i’ve seen, the most reaction splinter’s given to leo’s accomplishments is an eyebrow raise

for example, when outsmarting big mama, leo was genuinely proud of spending time w his dad and showing him his abilities. he genuinely thought they were working together. however, splinter didn’t say he was proud or anything, just complained he wished he’d brought donnie (s2ep 2, many unhappy returns)

“I knew I should have brought Purple.”

ouch. that mustve hurt a bit

and yes, i will admit, leo was being a bit of a little shit in this scene, and yes, he could’ve told splinter of the plan before starting to yap and blab to big mama about the plan he cooked up. however, the response splinter gives is not much better. essentially, he’s saying, “i don’t like this kid or his plan, so therefore i think i should’ve brought one of my favored children to solve the problem better.”

and before you go and tell me donnie could’ve outsmarted big mama the way leo did, think for a moment. leo fully admitted to manipulating and lying in an episode before

“I don’t lie, I just… change the truth.”

whereas donnie cannot tell a lie to save his life. i love him, but the guy is a shit liar. he has failed multiple times at it

“We are just typical normal humans.. who got lost in the middle of our normal… everyday human lives— nailed it.”

“Uh… nothing. Just having a typical, normal, mystic-free day.” “What? I said mystic-free.”

“Why aren’t you guys more upset?”

“Oh. This… hurts me. Uh… I’m very sad…?”

raph & mikey aren’t much better. mikey straight-up started sweating when he had to lie to splinter about piebald, and raph has so many different stinks/scents to him that it’d be easy for others to tell he was lying

also, mikey has doctor delicate touch. who does not know what lying or “don’t be blunt” means

and donnie’s really only being extremely straightforward with what he thinks or about what’s going on around him. so it makes no sense as to why splinter would want to bring donnie along to outsmart big mama, unless he genuinely doesn’t enjoy leo’s presence, which seems to be the case

now all of this is evidence to point towards a very unsteady father-son relationship with these two. yes, splinter seems to be a very lenient father, and i genuinely think he wants to be a good dad. however, oftentimes that leads to miscommunication and misread moments, empty promises, and overall neglecting behavior on his part, all without meaning to

so while he does try harder to be there for his sons later in the show, it’s pretty obvious that one brother — who thrived off any attention possible — probably stopped caring about that validation after all that he went through. splinter gives, but leo doesn’t take. he doesn’t bother to, because he thinks it’s either a prank of some kind, or because he just genuinely doesn’t care for his father’s input anymore.

(this was based on that one post about splinter & leo by @midwesternvibes, i just figure i revisit that bc i’m thinkin about it again)

[botchedsundoll]

L. KENNEDY, C. REDFIELD, C. OLIVEIRA X READER (SEPARATE)

ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; christmas hc’s

ೃ⁀➷ warnings; none! pure fluff

ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; ho ho ho merry christmas idc if its nov its christmas time… do ppl drink on christmas? we do so idek? icl this is all like stuff i made up bcos i don’t celebrate christmas like this but wtv we roll #wesołychświąt

C. OLIVEIRA

do not let this man near the kitchen. everything that can go wrong goes WRONG

ask him to take something out the oven, he drops it. ask him to stir something in the bowl he stirs too vigorously and it goes flying all over the counters

he’s a pain. he’s distracting. constantly getting infront of you with the mistletoe, thinking he’s slick by trying to sneak in kisses. constantly sneaking bites of food whenever he thinks you’re not looking (you are, and you smack his hands away with a spoon)

one thing he’s actually good at and enjoys is cookie decorating. he’ll make little gingerbread men of you two and make them so damn detailed. makes one for jill too, though with less care and her face ends up a bit… strange

he’s THAT person which is always ringing everyone, friends and family, wishing them a merry christmas and sends them stupid gifs slavic babcias love so much (if u dont know what i mean then☹️)

LOVES the whole aspect of the christmas tree yet hates putting it together, it pisses him off to no end and half way through ends up calling you over to help him… definitely picks you up so that you can put the star on top

if he gets an ugly christmas sweater you best believe he’s wearing it for the full day, no shame

L. KENNEDY

depends which leon we’re talking about

younger leon puts in more effort, older leon genuinely can’t be fucked to do much

walks around with a trash bag when everyone’s opening presents so there’s no mess on the floor

your guys’ house is literally the christmas function. every year. mostly due to you inviting everyone round and deciding to host it, much to leon’s annoyance but he doesn’t mind THAT much since he loves you!!

definitely the best gift giver. for some damn reason he just knows what everyone wants, genuinely no explanation for it. he just does

he’s such a sweetheart, constantly asking you if you need help with anything in the kitchen or whether you need him to pop to the store for anything

he 100% sang carols when he was younger. just imagine 7 year old leon, hair gelled back, button up shirt, stood infront of the tv singing carols (lets pretend he didn’t have all that trauma okay)… get him to sing again, he might cave once he’s drunk enough with chris

on the topic of chris, something ALWAYS happens when the pair have had a few and aren’t sober any longer. something always gets broken for some reason

one year, they randomly got up and started dancing. leon went flying into the christmas tree and took it down with him.

i hc him as having a rather large sweet tooth, so he’s always down for some cookie decorating! it’s rather sloppy and they end up looking questionable most of the time, but he ends up eating half of them before he’s even fully finished decorating so that’s not much of a problem anyways

C. REDFIELD

santa. need i say more?

nag him constantly to wear a santa outfit or atleast a santa hat. he will cave eventually

DEFINITELY gets a wallet for christmas every damn year without fail, yet doesn’t even use the damn wallets

him in the kitchen helping you out is definitely… something. he doesn’t know how to measure - what the fuck is a cup?

you asked him to help you out and stuff the turkey. he walked out the kitchen.

gets claire shitty gifts on purpose but then gives her her ACTUAL gift. they’re siblings after all, he can’t help it, old habits die hard

hates decorating the outside of the house. it’s his nightmare. all the stupid lights, just no

goes CRAZY on your gift. it’s like a little reward for all the effort you go through every year, and it’s always something you wanted badly and doesn’t fail to put a smile on your face

he’s not necessarily a fan of sweet things, but hot chocolate? that’s a completely different story entirely, you end up having to send him to buy milk since he drank the whole damn carton and there’s none left by the time you get around to actually preparing for dinner

like leon, sits there with a trash bag. he gives such dad vibes i can’t stop imagining it

him and leon ultimate christmas duo after a few drinks. all of a sudden chris is in the biggest christmas spirit ever and can’t get last christmas out his head

best thing is? he’s not even too big on christmas. he actually celebrates it just because of you, what a sweetheart

[imjustdelusionalok]

yandere!dc: goddess! darling

ⁱⁿᶠᵒ ᵃᵇᵗ ���ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵃʳˡⁱⁿᵍ۫ ꣑ৎ

darling is a god from another world who just so happens to immigrate into the dc universe after a very long time of probably embodying... well, everything.

firstly having to live for love as a human, and then ending it all to fight for the beauty of life as god.

she is the reason for existence, from the big to the miniscule.

(so basically op goddess reader who has wayyyy too much power in their hands-- ex: nothing can kill them, nothing can put an end to them, etc--)

the least you could do is seal away her powers, but even that would truly not be enough because your only sealing away 0.000000000000001%. (i mean that 💀)

*cough* anyway... aside from goddess reader backstory, lets go to the inspiration <33

she's a mix of Madokami from Puella Magi, HoF Kiana Kaslana from Honkai Impact, and mostly of Ishtar Ashtart/Space Ishtar from Fate Grand Order <3

originally kind and lighthearted after becoming 'God', but as time passes and stars dimmed, she has become... well... neutral. not good, but DEFINITELY not bad. like this!

"let me help you :)" to "...From the dawn of creation. Man has come from the ground not by his hand but mine. go back to the land and return to dust."

summary: lawful, void, alien... yet beautiful, destructive, human.

sooooo. yup.

:p

ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ۫ ꣑ৎ

...she has met the justice league before. because, who in their right minds would ignore the giant falling 'star' that came out of a very visible tear in the sky caused by said celestial body???

dramatically crashing down the surface like a meteorite, you lowkey may have destroyed a 'few' buildings... whoopsies :p

they are surprised. this... girl, no- alien, exudes endless quantity of power, leaking from every blurred pore. it also seems like they might be power themselves...

batman goes bazingas at the amount of destruction caused by your fall leading to an airheaded you getting towed to the JL headquarters and any sort of refusal or fighting back is unallowed. (even tho your more than capable of destroying anything AND everything you still oblige)

though cool as ice, you are so confused deep down. head tilted, vacant expression, the usual from the emotionally detached goddess albeit with a little change. 'what are these humans talking about?' you think, 'what threat?' you think again, unaware that you are the threat being spoken of.

the white slits of the vigilante's mask narrows at your disposition. everything about you seems... off. from your oppressing aura, to the... heavenly allure your blankness brings.

"more alien than the actual alien," a familiar scarlet speedster jokes, in an attempt to lighten the heavy mood. (he failed horribly btw) said alien rolls their eyes and sighs. though he has to admit, you lowkey look kind of cute... but he stops, remembering lois.

once you say your side of the story, they go all shocked pikachu faces again. your a god from another seperate world??? i mean dont get them wrong though, they had their fair share of situations like these, as some dc villains and heroes they know arent even from here originally. but they cant help but feel a bit different about you, something about you makes their soul writhe... and its not in a bad way.

so once B confirms your not a threat despite your extreme potential to act like one, everybody is relieved. you just need a littleeeeeee supervision, thats all :3

and oh look at that, your actually not that bad. your cold demeanor fades once they got to know you, and that void in your eyes is filled with a light comparable to the twilight star's soothing glow— pure, tranquil, and ever so mystifying.

every step you take, life seems to exist and flourish all around you. life heals around you. not only that, but also... them. the dead part of them actually, that died from complications now too complicated to be retold and remembered.

you fill the void they never knew they had, and all their aching scars were no longer painful but tolerable. bearable even, and its all because of you.

at this point, everybody knows how this all plays out. this ordinary tune, twisted into a fanatic's song.

their once innocent admiration has now spoiled into something darker, the more you stay in this world. holy eyes peeked at it, not at them but at the abyss that is their 'love.'

...you were starting to get aware. and a rarity occurred, you were... 'saddened'. for eternities you lived alone, and in an attempt to reconnect with that sliver of humanity you hid and kept, you went here to feel something again. and you did, and you were so successful.

too successful, in fact.

they loved you; so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, sooooo much. without you, they would die! :(

and that, in your eyes, is what makes you 'sad'. if your presence drives your beloved mortals to insanity's grip, then you must fly.

fly away from this despair, fly away from this madness.

your 'love' is your undoing, and ultimately also theirs.

their eyes widen as the sky is torn once again, and a familiar star flies back into it, meaning that you--- left. left? left. left? left... left.

something inside them breaks. both hearts any sense of rationality and morality left.

there is no reason to exist without you it seems, and they will do everything just to see you once more, even a second's glimpse.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

...you can't help but feel something you havent felt for a very long time. what was it again, sadness? anxiety? fear? you dont know. the endless rows of your ivory silks flutter even in the slightest movement. something tugs at you, your mind and heart. something tugs at you, telling... that it is far from over.

they call for you, their cries drowned in obsession masquerading as love.

you never answer, as your supposed concern and care for them lessens and your patience dwindles. reality is cruel, but never crueler than you. and that's when you realized it.

...they make your skin crawl. they make you want to vomit. they make you want to scream and cry. they make your ichor run cold. and if they touch you again, you'll--

...huh. who would have thought that was how you truly felt, goddess.

[annymation]

Reimagining the characters in Wish

(Part 3- Star/Aster)

ITS THE MOMENT WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR!!!

HERE COMES THE BOYYYYY!!!

Ahem… so yeah welcome to part 3

If you haven’t seen them yet, here’s the links for part 1 and part 2 where I talk about how I’d rewrite Asha and the villains respectively.

Star may be the most challenging character to reimagine since… All I have is the personality displayed on the Star we DID get, a song we all collectively headcanon as Asha x Star love song (At All Cost Demo), and my imagination… In a way that just makes things more fun too.

Now remember there’s no definitive version of this character, he never came true so there’s limitless ways we can interpret him.

Some may imagine him mute, some may imagine him as a wacky character like the genie, others may imagine him more soft spoken like the blue fairy, some may imagine him as Asha’s love interest while others may prefer them as just friends, or even have him look like her grandfather, there are no wrong answers.

So here’s how I imagine him to be like:

The Star 💫

What’s a Wishing Star?

- Before we start talking about our star boy, I think it’s important we establish what a wishing star even is, so let’s begin.

-Star is an entity from another plane of existence, a wishing star, a being whose only purpose is to listen to the wishes from mortals that can see him and other wishing stars through their night skies. They listen to the wishes from mortals and provide some guidance in subtle ways.

- A wishing star is born, or rather, gains consciousness, once someone looks to them and makes a wish from the bottom of their hearts, once the star receives their first ever wish they are no longer just a celestial body of gas, they become a new wishing star, they gain a purpose, and develop their minds just like how a human would.

- As the years pass the star becomes more wise, more equipped to help the person who wished upon them for the first time.

- For a wishing star to grow up it may take a while, that’s why most people wish upon bigger ones who are already fully developed and clever enough to know exactly how to help.

- It’s not a wishing star’s job to GRANT a wish immediately, in fact, they’re incapable of doing that, their magic can only go as far as the hope and perseverance that resides in their wishmaker’s heart.

- Things that the mortal would consider just luck could actually be the works of a wishing star putting them in the right path.

- If the person loses hope in their dream then there isn’t anything the star can do, but if they remain determined then the star can help them go far.

- So a wishing star job is to just… stay in the sky, look down upon their wishmakers, give some subtle magic intervention here and there…

-That is, when they’re wished upon at all, otherwise they just stay there doing nothing.

- However… In some rare occasions, wishing stars can do a lot more than just give a subtle magic intervention from the distance. Sometimes, when someone truly well intentioned makes a wish with all their heart… The wishing star gets the power to do some extraordinary things.

Personality

- Star, or Aster as I’ll be calling him in this rewrite, which is a non-binary name meaning “star”. I’ll be referring to them with (He/they) pronouns.

- Aster is a very young and inexperienced wishing star, in fact, counting with Asha’s wish, Star only got TWO wishes in their whole life. And he’s still working on granting that first wish he ever got 18 years ago.

(Haha I’m sure that’s not foreshadowing for something really sad)

- Because of that he’s often treated by the other stars as sort of a younger sibling or a little kid.

- I think I should just get this info out now: Aster is NOT the north star, that big, bright and iconic star we know from the Disney movies, nope, Aster is actually a small itty bitty little star that you can barely see, that kind of star you probably wouldn’t pick to wish upon, most choose the brightests and bigger ones.

- So who’s that big, bright and iconic star? Well, in the beginning of our story… That star doesn’t exist, like, it’s literally absent from the sky… After all, we're seeing that star's origin story :)

- We’ll get to that when we get to that, back to Aster tho.

- Aster is a lot different from the other wishing stars, while they’re these benevolent and wise entities, Aster is more of a naive and curious teen who’s fascinated with the world below them.

- No one wishes upon him EVER so he gets a lot of free time to just watch humans do human things and animals do animal things, and he loves it.

(He’s like Ariel and Quasimodo lmao)

- When he gets to earth he’s very excited to help Asha, showing appreciation for her wishing upon him through a lot of physical contact, often hugging her and holding her hand without him even noticing. (Asha at first is confused but she gets used to this behavior pretty quick)

- Although Aster is naive and overly excited they’re no fool, he can be very clever and creative when it’s necessary.

- He’s also not a fish out of water like Ariel when he’s on earth, they understands human customs and how things work, since he watched everything from the sky… Although nevertheless they’re delighted to see everything up close.

- He may be smart, but at first, they don’t really know how to guide Asha in the right path to make her wish come true, after all he’s a very inexperienced wishing star, and freeing a kingdom from an evil sorcerer king and queen is no easy task.

- But regardless he doesn’t let his own insecurities get to him, and remains optimistic they’ll figure it out, together.

His personality is reminiscent to Disney guys such as: Quasimodo, Peter Pan, Prince Philip (yes really, rewatch Sleeping Beauty, that boy has a lot of personality), Alladin and Hercules.

Main Traits:

- Optimistic and kind

- Naïve

- Protective

- Curious

- Energetic

- Secretly very insecure

Powers

I think it’s important to establish his abilities before we get to his backstory and all that jazz.

What he CAN’T do

Just like how Movie Asha did in her job interview, let’s get his weaknesses out of the way first.

- Sooo… don’t get mad but… Star won’t be a shapeshifter in my version. I don’t want him to feel too much like Maui or the genie. So he’ll stay in the shape of a princely looking boy the whole way through.

- He can’t teleport, would make things too easy, also there’s a plot reason I’ll explain later.

- Can’t materialize real things out of thin air, only things made of star dust so they don’t really have any utility other than to create fun visuals during music numbers or when he’s explaining stuff.

- Can’t hurt anyone, this one is VERY IMPORTANT for plot reasons I’ll talk about later on.

- Can’t make a wish come true with the snap of his fingers, he’s a star, not a genie.

Weakness: Dark Magic, hopelessness and Asha getting hurt.

What he CAN do

- Stretch and re-shape his body. He may not turn into animals but his body can regenerate and squash and stretch around (haha get it? Like the animation term), like he’s made of star dust. Have this piece of concept art as an example:

- He can Fly and make other people and objects fly too

- Unlock doors, may seem random now but I’ll explain in a minute.

- Bring plants to life, and make them grow bigger, and I mean like “make a flower the size of a house” bigger.

- Make animals talk, but the animals only keep talking IF they so desire, if that’s not something they wish for then the magic fades away with time.

- Tho he naturally understands animals and any other living thing in their own languages.

- He can feel other people’s wishes, not all the time tho, he has to make a conscious effort to see what’s that person’s deepest desire.

- His body is warm like a small sun, so he can give warm hugs… that’s a power, yes.

- Aster may not teleport, but they can move really REALLY fast

- Uncorrupt wish bubbles, I mentioned in part 2 that Magnifico twisted most the people's wishes, those wishes that are changed are called “Corrupted wishes”, Aster can change those wishes back to what they originally were.

- Create dreams, is that too much like the sandman from rise of the guardians?… Im still keeping it.

-Get inside drawings, This is just for a scene I imagine Aster shrinking and walking around inside Asha's sketch book, I think that's cute.

- Make a human disguise, I'll elaborate more on this when we get to talk about his design.

- He can grant wishes “but Anny you just said earlier he can’t—“ yes yes I know… he just grants them in his own unique way.

What gives him strength: Hopes and dreams

(Undertale reference? More likely than you think)

A wishing star purpose is to serve as a guide, that provides some magic intervention so that the wishmaker has the means to get to their goal.

As such, the stronger Asha’s hope, perseverance and passions are, the stronger and more limitless Star’s magic becomes. Like his magic abilities are charged up by Asha’s beliefs, the more she wants something, the more he can do for her.

Now, let’s talk about how Aster and other wishing stars that come to earth function, and to do that, we gotta go waaaaay back to another wish granting character in the Disney catalog.

The Blue Fairy- What can we learn from her?

- We all know the blue fairy from Pinocchio, she is in a way the closest thing we have in the Disney canon that resembles the concept of Star, so I’m considering them as both the same kind of entity, they’re both wishing stars.

(not the same character tho, and I’ll get to that soon don’t you worry)

- You would think a character we see so little about doesn’t provide a lot of context, but she actually gives us a pretty good idea about what wishing stars can and can’t do.

- First thing she says when arriving is:

“Good Geppetto, you have given so much happiness to others. You deserve to have your wish come true.”

- From that, we can interpret that wishing stars only assume a human form and help those who are truly pure of heart and have spread kindness to others. Like Asha.

- Geppetto wished for Pinocchio to be a real boy, a human boy, but the blue fairy couldn’t grant that wish, because the only one who could make himself a real boy was Pinocchio himself.

“To make Geppetto’s wish come true will be enterely up to you. Prove yourself brave, truthful and unselfish, and someday you will be a real boy"

- So, am I saying that Aster will just fly up to Asha and say “it’s all up to you to save your people… GOOD LUCK! 😊” sparkle some magic on her and leave?

- Well no although that would be funny, he’s not gonna do that, in fact, Aster will act way differently compared to the Blue Fairy.

- Although Aster can’t immediately make the people of Rosas “Have something more than this” he will do everything in his power to help Asha with anything she needs, and stay by her side the whole way through… Not at all what the Blue Fairy did.

- Lets say the Blue Fairy did exactly what a wishing star is supposed to do.

-She didn’t let herself be seen by anyone except Pinocchio and Jimminy Cricket, she only gave Pinocchio a few instructions and then left it all up to him, and even then when she went a bit beyond that to inform him that Geppetto was inside a whale she did so by sending a note… Almost like she couldn’t go back again to tell him personally… Interesting huh?

(I know the reason is because the animators would lose their minds if they had to draw that sparkly effect on her dress a third time but let’s pretend there’s more to it okay?)

- So we have her being the best role model of a wishing star… and then we have Aster...

-Doesn’t even know where to begin with helping Asha, chooses to stay on earth more than a day instead of just giving cryptic advice and leaving, was seen by multiple people aside from just Asha and Valentino, and worse of all, falls in love with his wish maker… yeah dude broke several rule… And the other stars ain’t happy about that.

- You could say the scale of Geppetto’s wish and Asha’s wish are way different, one just wants a son and the other wants to defeat two evil monarchs.

-But the stars don’t see it that way, to them every wish should be treated equally and it’s not their purpose to mingle with humans and change the course of their history.

- So you see, while the Blue Fairy could go back to the sky and then reappear anywhere she wanted… Aster won’t have that privilege.

-If he goes back to the sky he’s not coming back down, because the other stars won’t allow it, not after he broke their rules.

- Aster knows all that, because he can hear them talking to him, warning him to stop and go back to the sky… Aster keeps that information a secret from Asha for as long as they can…

- He knows after he’s done helping Asha they’ll never see each other again, but that’s fine, he’s willing to break every rule to help her…

- Oh also there’s a scene in Pinocchio where the Blue Fairy opens a lock to free Pinocchio from a cage… that’s why I said Aster can unlock doors… okay moving on to our boy backstory.

Backstory

Yup, Aster has a backstory. And it all started in one fateful night:

An elderly man was taking a walk, carrying his granddaughter in his arms, she was just a few weeks old, but he couldn’t wait to show her how beautiful the stars looked that night.

He sat with her on a thick tree branch, and even though she couldn’t understand him, he was so happy telling her the names of each constellation.

In that moment, it seemed like everything was perfect.

But then that moment ended… He heard screams, and smelled smoke.

The elderly man ran back to his home, only to find it completely engulfed in a fire.

His granddaughter was now crying in his arms as he watched some neighbors trying to put down the fire, but to no avail.

His son and daughter-in-law were in there, he lost them both in an instant, the pain he felt in that moment was immeasurable.

In that moment of sorrow all he could do was look up, between the thick smoke he saw it… a small star.

With all his heart, Sabino wished upon it

“I wish my dear granddaughter, Asha, never feel such pain and sadness as I’m feeling in this moment”

A new wishing star was born.

Those words were the first thing Aster ever heard, it took a few years for him to even know what they meant, but as Asha and him grew older, he started to understand them.

He tried his best to make Asha as happy as she could be with the little that he was allowed to do.

Sometimes giving her inspiration for her drawings, other times sending her nice dreams after a bad day.

But he felt like he was failing her, no matter what he did, Asha would still go through sad times… Specially after her grandfather passed away.

Aster treasured every happy moment that he saw Asha experience, her making new friends, getting better with her drawings, dancing during wish ceremonies. Aster would shine brighter every time she was happy.

Point is: They were connected the whole time, and Aster already knew Asha even way before she wished upon him.

To be clear he wouldn’t just stay up there looking at Asha all day, he was also interested on everything else on earth in general.

But then, we have Asha’s 18th birthday, the day she had to give away her wish.

Aster knew what was really going on in Rosas, about what happened to most of the people’s wishes, and although that also saddened the other stars they all agreed they couldn't intervene unless someone from Rosas wished for their help.

So you can imagine how happy Aster was when Asha wished upon HIM, of all the stars, she looked at him and asked for his help! What are the chances?

If you could listen to them, you’d hear all the stars collectively whisper “oh…this might not end well…” as Aster flies down to earth going "YYYYYPIIIEEEEEEE!!!"

A Star Who Wishes To Be Human

- I’ve made it very clear that Aster is different from the other stars, for the reason that he’s so young and so fascinated with life on earth.

- But there’s more than that, see, I mentioned before Aster can’t hurt anyone, and that’s not because he’s some holier-than-thou pacifist, it’s because his magic literally CAN’T hurt living beings.

- Because his magic is made of ✨hopes✨ and ✨kindness✨ and ✨everything nice✨, so even if they literally make a sword with his star dust, all it’ll do is give Magnifico some tickles.

- And Aster hates that.

- He wishes he could be more useful to Asha… wait, “wishes”?

- That’s silly, a star is not supposed to “wish” for anything, to have wants, that’s a human thing... And yet here he is wanting to protect Asha in any way possible.

- This drive to protect Asha runs even deeper than just the wish he received from her grandfather or the wish she made, Aster feels as if it's a wish that comes within him.

- Aster would question why they feels this way, is it love? Can’t be that right? A star can’t fall in love…

- The same way a star can’t taste food, or smell the flowers, or feel temperature…

- But Aster wishes they could, Aster wishes he knew what food tasted like, what was the smell of the flowers and the morning dew, but most of all… Aster wished he could feel Asha’s warmth, the same way she feels when they embraced.

- This would be Aster internal conflict for most of the movie. They’d realize that they can’t be with Asha forever, but Aster wanted to at least confess his feelings before they went to enact their plan to defeat the king and queen, that’s when we’d get “At All Cost”.

- Soooo a bit of a spoiler to this rewrite, I’m basically telling a story all out of order at this point, but here goes, Aster does become human by the end, after the king and queen are defeated, the stars realize that punishing Aster for breaking their rules wouldn’t be fair after he did so much good, and also because some of them can’t stand him so they decide “hey, let’s leave him there” and just ask him to return his magic back to the sky.

- Once Aster accepts, his magic would be turned into a brand new star, that shines brighter than all the others, because it carries all the magic that Aster accumulated by helping Asha and all of Rosas. And thus we’d get an origin story for THE wishing star.

Design

Aster has brown skin, sparkly freckles and blond hair that shines and moves almost like a candle.

He dresses up as a prince, with the classic cape we see in classic princes like in Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.

They choose that form because he recalls that Asha used to read a lot about princes that would help princesses in need, so he thinks it's fitting to at least looks like one to help Asha

"But I'm not a princess"

"I know, you're just pretty like one!"

A itty bitty detail I didn't mention until now: Aster would be hand drawn animated, while everything else would be 3D, and his animation would change as the movie progressed.

By change I mean he'd start in a very sketchy looking animation, like it's being drawn very frantically to reflect how excited he is to help Asha, but as the movie progresses he'd be drawn with more detail and with more fluid movements.

This would serve to both represent his character development, showing him becoming more mature and learning what it means to be human, and also a reference to how Disney's animation evolved over the years.

He can make a human disguise, as I mentioned earlier, but that would require him to keep his magic hidden somewhere, in this case, a round stone that holds his cape together on his chest.

Once his magic was all kept inside this stone he'd turn into a 3D animated character, however his movements wouldn't feel... quite right, like he'd be animated in a different frame-rate compared to everyone else, so you could tell he was struggling to make himself move like a human, and people would be able to tell there was something off about him.

In the end when he turned into a human for real he'd become 3D animated with the right frame-rate, and his hair would no longer be blonde, but rather brown, like his eyebrows (Tangled reference? yup)

Final Thoughts

This was DEFINITELY the hardest one to translate my thoughts into words! My gosh this took so long to write.

Don't know if you could tell but I'm very passionate about this scrapped idea of a human looking star falling in love with our protagonist, and no it's not just for the ✨aesthetic✨.

I don't think it's wise to throw a romance when writing a story just because you feel like it, a romance needs to progress both the story and the characters involved, think of it like how Naveen learned with Tiana the importance of working hard, while in turn showing her that life can also be fun. They complete each other, and I want the same for Asha and Aster.

Asha needs to learn that she shouldn't feel guilty for wishing more for herself, she worries too much about others and what others may think of her that she forgets her own self worth, and Aster shows her that she not only can wish for things for herself, but she can also accomplish anything she sets her mind to. From becoming an amazing artist that can give movement to her drawings to the leader of a rebellion against two evil monarchs, she can do it all.

Meanwhile, Aster needs to learn that what Asha's grandfather wished upon him is an impossible task, for Asha to always be happy, that's impossible, because sadness is a part of life, its a part of being human, and that's what he learns, what it means to be human, to fail, get up and try again. As a wishing star Aster always knew that humans had to fail a bunch of times before having their wishes granted but he could never imagine how hard that actually was, and Asha's perseverance even with all odds against her is what makes him love her even more.

I talked a lot about why Aster loves Asha, so I should probably mention what Asha sees in him too. Asha get's a lot of laughs from Aster's innocent reactions to natural things on earth, like how dazzled he is seeing the sun rise for the first time, how he just stops and starts chatting with animals and plants like a damn disney princess, or how he randomly starts rambling about how some constellations don't look at all like the animals they're named after "Like, seriously, why did they name that one a lynx? That's obviously a snake hehehe"

But most importantly she loves how caring he is, how he's supportive and passionate about her interests just as much as she is, and how he makes her feel safe, and in turn she wants to protect him too.

I'm honestly debating with myself how I want Aster to go about the information he has known Asha all his life, like, I imagine he'd probably want to hide the fact because he didn't want to talk about the sad tragedy that led to her grandfather wishing upon him, yes Asha knows about the fire but he doesn't want to remind her and make her sad, because remember, at first he doesn't understand that sadness is just part of life.

But then like, would he pretend to not know her? Or would he be like a ghibli character and just nonchalantly say "Oh yeah, I’ve always known you" and never elaborate on that until the story demands it?

… Great, now I just had the idea of Aster functioning like Haku from Spirited Away, like they don't remember where he knows Asha from because he forgot what their previous wish was now that he’s granting a new one, let's say stars can only remember one wish at a time, then as he gets to know her better he starts to remember what his first wish was, and things start to make more sense.

I don’t know, like that’s cute but might be a bit too complicated, y’all tell me, I’m throwing ideas and seeing what makes sense, this whole thing is me asking for feedback after all.

Honestly I think the idea of Aster knowing Asha the whole time works because it not only gives a better explanation to why a star came down from the sky to help her, but also gives more sense to the lyrics “you still amaze me after all this time” in At All Cost.

Welp, I think that's all I got, thank you so much for following along with this series, and don't worry I'm not over yet, there are a few characters to talk about before I start sharing the actual script of this rewrite.

Thank You For Reading!

[heavenlyraindrops]

“ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ.” | ᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ { ɪɪ }

☆ Warnings: profanity, sports!photographer!reader, fem!reader, afab!reader, social media au/smau, texting, profanity, pretty unserious tbh

☆ 1.3k words | Available on: Tumblr, AO3

Seeing the notification pop up in your dms was certainly a strange, albeit pleasant surprised.

It was from his account. Your fingers shook as you tapped the screen, opening the chat.

Hey, is this [name]? I just wanted to apologize again for breaking your camera.

You stared at it, unsure how to respond. 

For one, you had no social skills, and, secondly, this was the guy who was not only a massively famous and successful athlete but also a rando you’d been taking pictures of since school. You wondered if he’d scrolled down on your account to see the numerous images of him posted from your college days. 

Its fine, you replied nonchalantly.

On the other side of the screen, Kenji was going feral. “Fuck, Mina, she seems pissed.”

Mina simply stared at him (well, not stared but you know.) and he rolled his eyes at her lack of response, turning back to his phone.

Well, I’m more than willing to replace the stuff for you, he typed out quickly.

Your phone pinged. You frowned at the text. 

If you want ig. 

Oh? My god? Who the fuck replies like that?

While you were stressing out over your disgustingly dry, and even rude reply, Kenji was falling off his couch at seeing your message on screen. He cursed, elbow twisting awkwardly as he hit the floor, but he ignored it, holding the phone up. “She hates me, Mina.”

Mina glided through the air to hover over his face. “You’ll be fine, Ken,” she said. “Perhaps you could even befriend her. You said she went to your college.”

“Are you even listening to a word I said?! She hates me.”

His phone pinged and he stared at your second message. 

Sorry, I meant only if it’s not a hassle for you. 

Relief surged through him. it’s definitely not a hassle!

Well then in that case I don’t mind.

Within a couple of days you found new equipment waiting on your doorstep. You weren’t complaining- and it was an expensive model, too. Higher quality than the one you’d had before. 

Taika nudged you knowingly. “The Ken Sato got you that?”

“The Ken Sato was the one who broke it in the first place,” you grumbled in retribution, and she rolled her eyes but didn’t retort any further. 

“Text him to tell him you got it.”

“What?”

“Come on!” She shoved your phone into your hands, and your face burned. “Look, stop trying to deny you have the hots for him and just-“

“Okay!” exasperated, you lifted a hand. “I’ll do it.”

Hey just texting to let you know the stuff arrived btw, you sent.

You certainly hadn’t expected a reply only moments later.

cool! There’s nothing wrong with it, right?

“Isn’t he, like, a famous baseball star?” You muttered as you typed out a reply. “Isn’t he supposed to be busy?”

Taika wiggled her eyebrows. “Well, I wonder what that means for you if he’s replying so quickly then!” She squealed, and you smacked her away by the shoulder. 

Nope it’s great. It’s even better than the equipment I used before actually

Three dots appeared on your screen to indicate he was typing. And then:

Yeah haha now you can take even better pictures of me, right? Judging by your earlier posts you seem to be a pretty big fan.

You froze.

Taika froze.

On the other side of the screen, on his couch, Kenji froze.

“Was that too forward?” He muttered to himself. “Oh dammit, I was trying to make a joke.”

“Oh my god, I’m so fucked,” you said to Taika, pacing the room. “He saw the pictures.”

She clicked her tongue. “They were kinda sorta public for anyone to see. You’d basically showcased your entire crush on that account.”

“He’s gonna think I’m a psycho, or a stalker or something!”

“I bet he thinks you’re adorable.”

You stopped and turned and glared at her. She flicked her head at the device clutched in your hands. 

“Text him back, [name].”

With shaking hands, you did.

Is it obvious lmao? In that case I guess so.

Typing…

His reply lit up your screen.

Can’t wait to see what picture of me you post next ;)

-

You were feeling bold. You were feeling frisky. Perhaps a little… daring.

The next day, you decided to upload the final pictures the online magazine you were photographing for had chosen onto your instagram account.

And, of course, you picked the one of Kenji as the first one.

Not long after your conversation the other day, you’d seen that he’d decided to follow you back. You wondered what that meant, its implications, but brushed it off for fear of overthinking. 

You captioned the post “These were the chosen pictures for XY Sports Magazine! Glad to have played a role in blah blah blah blah blah blah Kenji please text me again blah blah.” 

And then you threw your phone down onto the couch, and waited. 

-

Kenji almost spat his drink out when he saw your very next post, the day after your conversation, and also to see that he was the first picture. 

What even is this? Flirting? Banter? What the fuck? I’m into it?

He debated between leaving a comment or a direct message, but settled for comment. It was flashier that way. According to him. 

“Glad to see I’m your muse,” he typed, and waited for you to see it. His heart was in his throat. 

-

Of course you saw it.

And you had no idea what to reply to it.

So you simply liked it, pinned it, and hoped that it spoke enough words that you were too flustered to type. 

-

This turned into a regular thing. He’d text you, you’d post him every time you were hired at a game he played at, he’d comment, people in the replies would go feral at his appearance in your comment sections, and then you’d text him. If he ever saw you at a game, on the sidelines of the pitch- not in the stands- he’d wink at you, and fuck that bastard knows my camera’s gonna end up pointed at him for most of the game, doesn’t he? 

You wouldn’t call it a friendship that you two had- you genuinely had no idea what the fuck it was, but you sure as hell weren’t complaining. 

You were lazing around in your bed- it was barely even morning, and you had an off day yet your son of a bitch that you called an internal clock had woken you up at six, when your phone pinged. You picked it up.

Kenji: hey can I have your actual number this time?

Kenji: beats dming you here 

You: sure it’s (xxx-xxx-xxx)

Kenji: thanks.

You stared into space.

Okay, maybe this… relationship between your two needed a label put onto it. You stared back at the screen.

It probably wasn’t going to happen any time soon. 

[cenittxnadir]

Lunch Box SingleDad!Miguel O´Hara x Reader

I think i'm going to make a small serie of SingleDad Miguel. Its going to have small fics, drabbles and headcanons. This is the second one I make, but is not a sequel so can read it any order you want.

You have been dating Miguel for awhile now and everything was perfect. Gaby and you got along quite fast, a little too fast. But she loves you and you love her.

Her favorite thing is the weekend, that means that you would stay at their house, so she has you and her dad for two whole days. She knows that Miguel has a time consuming job yours was a little more flexible but still.

Miguel loved how things were going, he was really happy but he couldn't help to feel a little bit jealous about the little bond you made with her daughter. Don't get him wrong, he loves you both, of course his type of love is different from one to another. He loves how you care for Gabriela and how she loves to spend time with you, but sometimes he feels that he's left outside. He just couldn't help it, he wants to have that communication that you have with her daughter, she tells you things that probably she would never tell him about, on the other side, he wants to have your full undivided attention only for him. There are days when he doesn't want to share his daughter and others when he doesn't want to share you.

You knew about it, he gets all grumpy when he hears you talking low in Gaby's room when you have your "girls night". He has tried to walk "by accident" in the middle of your chat only to get a "it's nothing" in response and then a few giggles when he leaves the room. Gaby and you use this to bother him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had just past one of those weekends, and now it was monday, your day off, so you didn´t left.

Miguel heard his alarm sound, he turn it off with a groan and turn his boby to reach you, but he felt your bed space empty he got up quickly from his place looking for you, you were nowhere in the bedroom, all lights where out except for the little light that came out under the door meaning someone was on the kitchen or living room.

Against his will he got up, he felt cold without your presence. He rubbed his sleepines off his face with his hands. He didn´t want to get up yet, he would dragg you back to bed and sleep late until he had to "call sick" so he can spend more time with you.

When he arrived to the kitchen he saw you there, looking for something in the freezer, you were still in pijamas wich was pretty much some shorts and a shirt courtesy of Miguel's closet. He can hear the sizzle of the pans on the stove and the smell of whatever you were cooking.

"What are you doing up? It´s 6:15 am" His voice was low and groggy.

You gave a little jump, you didn´t expected to see him awake you turn to see him with a hand in her chest. "Dios mío Miguel, give me a warning." He just kept looking at her waiting for an answer. "Oh, I´m making a lunch box for Gabriela"

"Why? She eats at school" He look at you more confused

"Oh, well hehe, she told me that last week there was an insect on her smash potatoes"

"Why I didn´t knew about this?" An insect on his daugther´s food!? That was unacceptable, he would definitely change her from school.

"Because she didn´t want to worry you, besides i´m more than happy to cook for her, its not the first time I make her a lunch box, I usually made them in my apartment and bring them to her school in my luch hour" You star packing everything in her lunch box - funny thing: it was from Spiderman-

His eyes never left you, he followed every movement you made until his stomach rumbled in the middle of the silences. You looked at him. "I´m going to start breakfast. Go get ready."

He gave one last look to the lunch box then he turn to you standing in the middle just like a small kid. "Hmmm... Love? Can i get..." he lower his voice.

You turn to see him "You can get what?"

"I said if I could get..." Again. He wisper

"Mi amor habla más fuerte, no te entiendo. ¿Qué necesitas?"

"Que si puedo tener una yo también" He exchange looks between the lunch box and you.

"A lunch box? You want me to make one for you?"

"Yes please"

You couldn't keep yourself from smiling "Claro que si mi amorcito, I can make you one" You grab his face "Go get ready for work"

Minutes later everyone had finished eating Gabi clean the table while Miguel was getting his stuff in the trunk once he was done he told Gabriela to get in the car and wait for him.

He ran back to the kitchen to grab his lunch box in the counter.

"Wait Miguel, you forgot your dessert" You handle him a small box similar to the bigger one which contains the main food only that this one was cold. "Keep it cold until dessert time my love, its a surprise"

"Gracias"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He can´t concentrate in work, he was constantly looking to the small freezer that he kept in his office, far from Hobie - he tend to stole his food- checking allmost every minute his watch hoping time moves faster so lunch time could arrive and finaly eat whatever you made him.

Finally lunch time arrived and he enjoy every single bite of his food, he felt like a kid again, eating home food in peace. Once hi finished his food he began to clean everything until he found the small box, he was full but he didn´t care it was his dessert, made by his lovly girlfirend, of course he´s going to eat it.

He opened the box, it took him a while to process what was happening, he grabbed what was inside lifting it up to get a better look. It was a strawberry, a blue one, with something red on it. Once he took a better look he almost let a squeal scape his lips, they were straberries covered in blue chocolate with some marks made with red chocoalte pretending to be his Spiderman mask.

He was definitely going to hide them from Hobie.

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

My House Of Stone, Your Ivy Grows

WC: 1.5K

A/N: I don’t even know if this makes sense, I don’t know what this is

Summary: Connor’s never been good at fighting for what he wants, in this case who he wants ANGST?

Connor Bedard and Y/N had been inseparable since they were kids. Their families lived next door to each other, and it seemed as if fate had intertwined their lives. From the moment they learned to walk, they shared laughter and tears, holidays and birthdays, always side by side. They were the definition of best friends, the kind of bond that everyone around them marveled at, especially their mothers, who often joked about them getting married someday.

As they grew older, their friendship blossomed into something more complicated. Y/N had always admired Connor's dedication to hockey; he was a natural talent, the star of his team. But it was more than just his skills on the ice that captivated her. It was the way he made her feel—alive, cherished, understood. Connor was everything to her, and deep down, she believed she was everything to him too.

But life took a turn when Miles entered the picture. He was charming, just as athletic, and somehow everything Connor wasn't. When Y/N started dating him, it felt like someone had ripped a part of Connor's heart away. The first few weeks were unbearable; Connor pretended to be happy for her, but inside, he was hollow. Every shared moment between Y/N and Miles felt like a dagger to his heart.

Y/N felt it too, that strange distance growing between her and Connor. It was as if she were living in two worlds—the one where she was with Miles and the one where she could be herself with Connor. The worst part was how she couldn’t ignore the incandescent glow that still flickered between them. Every time Connor touched her, whether to playfully shove her or to comfort her, it sent a jolt through her, igniting feelings she had long buried.

Spring break arrived, and Y/N felt a heaviness in her heart. Miles had left for vacation, and for the first time in months, she had the chance to reconnect with Connor. She found herself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. They spent days together, just like old times, but now there was an undercurrent of tension, a whisper of something unspoken lingering in the air.

Their playful banter was laced with a new depth. Connor's blue eyes, once filled with friendship, now seemed to pierce through her soul, making her acutely aware of her own heart's desires. Every laugh, every shared secret felt like a stolen moment in a world where time was running out. All her pains fit right in the palm of his hand, only this time its been promised to another.

One afternoon, they were sitting on the porch, the sun setting in hues of orange and pink. Y/N felt the urge to speak, to lay her heart bare. “Connor,” she started, her voice barely a whisper. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he replied, looking at her with that familiar warmth.

“If I were to break up with Miles… would you want me?”

Connor's heart raced, but he felt a cold pit in his stomach. The question hung between them, heavy with implications. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, to tell her that yes, he had loved her since they were kids. But he hesitated, aware of the hurt it would cause.

“Y/N, I—” he stammered, but the words died on his lips.

“Just tell me what you feel. If you want me, say it. I need to know Connor because cannot go on like this. Knowing if i’m choosing the wrong guy.” she urged, desperation creeping into her tone.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you to break up with him,” Connor replied, his voice strained. The truth was he was scared—scared of losing her completely, scared of the judgment, scared of everything. Y/N deserved happiness, even if it wasn’t with him.

Her face fell, and the silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. “I- I just thought you wanted me, you’ve shown all these signs Connor I- I mean you’re constantly fuming when I mention Miles. You’ve been so different since we started dating. I guess I was just hoping you were feeling what I wanted you to feel.” she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.

“No- yes- I do want you, so so much. I love you. I- Since we were six Y/N, even younger maybe but…” He stuttered off, frustration boiling within him. “You’re with him though. You deserve him. I can’t be get in the way of that.”

Y/N took a step back, the weight of his words crashing down on her. “So, you’d rather just watch me with him? It wouldn’t be your fault Connor, and on top of that you dont get to choose what’s best for me! What’s best for me is you, what’s best for me is the one I’ve seen grow into the man of my dreams. I just don’t get what you’re saying… Is this some tactic to spare my feelings because you don’t reciprocate them?” she asked, her voice tinged with bitterness.

Connor couldn't answer. Instead, he stood there, feeling powerless, watching as she turned away. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, but the moment slipped away, leaving behind a chasm that felt impossible to bridge. He had chose to sit and watch what would become of them.

When Miles returned from vacation, Y/N felt a shift in her heart. She tried to push away the feelings she had for Connor, convincing herself that what she had with Miles was real. They laughed, they went on dates, and slowly, the laughter echoed, filling the void that Connor had left. But deep inside, she felt like she was pretending. Connor was like Ivy growing up Y/N house of stone, he was roots being placed into her dreamland. This all had been the fight of her life and Connor started and ended it for her.

Connor watched all this unfold from a distance as Y/N fell deeper into her relationship with Miles. Every smile she gave him, every moment of joy he witnessed felt like a nail in his heart. He’d made a choice to “protect” her, he felt like if he had let himself become selfish and finally have her he wouldn’t be able to keep up with what she could be having with Miles. The world and everything it Y/N deserved and the inevitable fear he couldn’t give her that and more took a toll on him. But the more time passed, the more it felt like a mistake. He missed her; he missed their conversations, their inside jokes, and the way she would lean on him for support.

Days turned into weeks, and Connor’s heartache only deepened. He watched as Y/N and Miles became more entwined, their shared laughter becoming a bittersweet symphony in his ears. Connor's jealousy festered, but he buried it beneath layers of denial, pushing through hockey practices and late-night games.

He immensely poured himself into his training, using the ice as an escape from the turmoil in his heart. Each slap of the puck, each drill felt like a temporary distraction from the emotional storm brewing inside him. But the more he focused on hockey, the more he realized that nothing could fill the void that Y/N had left.

Every goal he scored was celebrated, but it felt hollow. His teammates cheered, their voices echoing around him, but all he could think about was Y/N’s laughter—how it used to light up his world. She was becoming a distant memory, fading into the background of his life while he stood frozen, trapped in a moment that was slipping away from him.

Meanwhile, Y/N was living a life that seemed perfect on the surface. With Miles,she took trips, attended parties, and found herself surrounded by friends, he was in the room but all she wished to see were Connor’s eyes . In the quiet moments, when the noise of the world faded away, she felt a gnawing emptiness. Connor’s absence was a constant reminder that something essential was missing. The love she had for him was buried beneath layers of confusion and guilt, and she often found herself thinking of him, wondering if he ever thought about her.

One evening, she found herself at a party with Miles. Music pulsed through the air, and laughter surrounded her, but all she could see was Connor’s face, the way he would smirk when they shared a joke. It was overwhelming, and she excused herself from the crowd, stepping outside for a breath of fresh air.

Under the stars, she closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over her. Memories of their childhood flooded her mind—sneaking out to stargaze, sharing secrets in the dark, dreaming of futures that seemed limitless. But with those memories came the painful realization that she had chosen to walk away from that bond. As tears streamed down her cheeks, she felt like she was betraying not only Connor but herself.

Meanwhile, Connor stood on the ice, practicing alone long after everyone else had left. The rink was empty, just him and the echo of his skates gliding against the surface. Every stroke felt like a release of pent-up emotions, but it was never enough to drown out the heartache. He couldn’t shake the image of Y/N and Miles together—every laugh, every touch—they were constant reminders of the choice he’d made.

The next day, Y/N decided she couldn’t ignore the truth any longer. She reached for her phone, her fingers hovering over Connor’s name. She hesitated, recalling the last time they’d spoken, the look in his eyes when he’d tried to protect her by holding back his feelings. But this time, she wanted to know the truth.

“Connor,” she typed, her heart racing. “Can we talk?”

Connor’s heart leaped at the notification. He hadn’t seen her name in so long; it felt like a lifeline. But then doubt crept in. What if she was just going to tell him that things with Miles were great? That she was happy? But he couldn’t ignore the glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the moment he’d been waiting for.

They agreed to meet at their favorite spot—the park where they used to spend countless afternoons. As Y/N approached, Connor felt a whirlwind of emotions crash over him. She looked beautiful, but there was a sadness in her eyes that mirrored his own.

“Hey,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“Hey,” he replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Y/N took a deep breath. “Explain it to me, I’m racking my mind constantly Connor as to why you claim to have loved me for years but don’t want to be with me. Look at how confusing this is from my perspective Connor please I’m begging you.”

Connor’s heart raced. “ I can’t-”

“Connor, please let me finish,” she interrupted, her eyes pleading with him to listen. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that what I have with Miles is enough, but every time I laugh with him, I hear your voice. Every time I’m with him, I feel like I’m hiding a part of myself.”

His chest tightened as he realized she was struggling, just as he had been. “Y/N… I never wanted to put you in this position. I thought I was doing the right thing by stepping back, but it’s killing me. You deserve everything and only what I can say is the best life and I got scared that I couldn’t give you what you deserve. And as much as I wish it was me but Miles is a good guy, great future, loving family. Everything you should have. I didn’t want you to loose all that because you felt guilty for me feeling like this towards you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” she asked, hurt evident in her tone.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of losing you completely. I thought if I stayed quiet, you’d eventually learn you’d be happier with him.”

“Happy? Connor, I’ve been a mess. I tried to move on, but you’re always there. I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Connor’s heart soared, but it was also heavy with fear. “What does that mean for us?”

Y/N stepped closer, her eyes searching his. “I don’t know. But I know I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she continued, “I thought I could make things work with Miles, but every time I’m with him, I’m reminded that you’re the one who truly understands me.”

He reached for her, wanting to pull her close, but hesitated. “But what about Miles? He cares about you.”

“I know, and I feel terrible for what this will do to him. But I can’t keep living a lie. It’s you I want, Connor. You’re my best friend, my heart.”

At that moment, everything that had held him back melted away. “I’ve always loved you,” he confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and it’s tearing me apart to see you with someone else.”

The tears spilled over, and Y/N closed the distance between them, her arms wrapping around him. “Then let’s figure this out together.”

In that embrace, the weight of their past lifted, replaced by the flickering hope of what could be. But both of them knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges. They would have to confront their feelings, navigate the consequences of their choices, and ultimately, find a way back to the love they had always shared.

Yet as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, they felt a flicker of light in the darkness. Maybe, just maybe, they could rebuild what had been lost and create something even stronger. But the lingering shadows of doubt remained, reminding them that the road to healing was never straightforward.

[cantsayidont]

When attempting to critique the values of a long-running franchise like STAR TREK, it's important to draw a distinction between superficial issues and structural ones.

"Superficial" in this sense doesn't mean "minor" or "unimportant"; it simply means that an issue is not so intrinsic to the premise that the franchise would collapse (or would be radically different) were it changed or removed. For example, misogyny has been a pervasive problem across many generations of STAR TREK media, which have often been characterized by a particular type of leering-creep sexism that was distasteful at the time and has not improved with age. However, sexism and misogyny are not structural elements of the TREK premise; one can do a STAR TREK story where the female characters have agency and even pants without it becoming something fundamentally different from other TREK iterations (even TOS, although there are certainly specific TOS episodes that would collapse if you excised the sexism).

By contrast, the colonialism and imperialism are structural elements — STAR TREK is explicitly about colonizing "the final frontier" and about defending the borders, however defined, of an interstellar colonial power. Different iterations of STAR TREK may approach that premise in slightly different ways, emphasizing or deemphasizing certain specific aspects of it, but that is literally and specifically what the franchise is about. Moreover, because STAR TREK has always been heavily focused on Starfleet and has tended to shy away from depicting life outside of that regimented environment, there are definite limits to how far the series is able to depart from the basic narrative structure of TOS and TNG (a captain and crew on a Starfleet ship) without collapsing in on itself, as PICARD ended up demonstrating rather painfully.

This means that some of the things baked into the formula of STAR TREK are obviously in conflict with the franchise's self-image of progressive utopianism, but cannot really be removed or significantly altered, even if the writers were inclined to try (which they generally are not).

What I find intensely frustrating about most modern STAR TREK media, including TNG and its various successors, is not that it can't magically break its own formula, but that writer and fan attachment to the idea of TREK as the epitome of progressive science fiction has become a more and more intractable barrier to any kind of meaningful self-critique. It's a problem that's become increasingly acute with the recent batch of live-action shows, which routinely depict the Federation or Starfleet doing awful things (like the recent SNW storyline about Una being prosecuted for being a genetically engineered person in violation of Federation law) and then insist, often in the same breath, that it's a progressive utopia, best of all possible worlds.

This is one area where TOS (and to some extent the TOS cast movies) has a significant advantage over its successors. TOS professes to be a better world than ours, but it doesn't claim to be a perfect world (and indeed is very suspicious of any kind of purported utopia). The value TOS most consistently emphasizes is striving: working to be better, and making constructive choices. Although this can sometimes get very sticky and uncomfortable in its own right (for instance, Kirk often rails against what he sees as "stagnant" cultures), it doesn't presuppose the moral infallibility of the Federation, of Starfleet, or of the characters themselves. There's room for them to be wrong, so long as they're still willing to learn and grow.

The newer shows are less and less willing to allow for that, and, even more troublingly, sometimes take pains to undermine their predecessors' attempts along those lines. One appalling recent example is SNW's treatment of the Gorn, which presents the Gorn as intrinsically evil (and quite horrifying) in a way they're not in "Arena," the TOS episode where they were first introduced. The whole point of "Arena" is that while Kirk responds to the Gorn with outrage and anger, he eventually concedes that he may be wrong: There's a good chance that the Gorn are really the injured party, responding to what they reasonably see as an alien invasion, and while that may be an arguable point, sorting it out further should be the purview of diplomats rather than warships. By contrast, SNW presents the Gorn as so irredeemably awful as to make Kirk's (chronologically later) epiphany at best misguided: The SNW Gorn are brutal conquerors who lay eggs in their captives (a gruesome rape metaphor, and in presentation obviously inspired by ALIENS) when they aren't killing each other for sport, and even Gorn newborns are monsters to be feared. Not a lot of nuance there, and no space at all for the kind of detente found in TOS episodes like "The Devil in the Dark."

[psychesalcove]

taking hits for you, cause I wanna feel like I'm supposed to

✧.* jason grace after an argument with gn reader

synopsis: headcanons for jason after an argument w/ gn reader — college au !

cw: arguing (but more focused on after an argument), jason being a cutie pie and understanding bf, not proofread at all,

requested: yes, by anon !!

an: ty for the request babes !! hope this lives up to your expectations 😽😽

^᪲᪲᪲ i feel like arguing with jason wouldn't be a screaming match because of his calmer demener

^᪲᪲᪲ jason would be the type to leave midway through an argument because it gets to much for him

^᪲᪲᪲ he obviously communicates this with you, not wanting you to freak out to him leaving; but knowing that both of you could use space and have time to collect your thoughts

^᪲᪲᪲ if jason was the one leaving your condo and you were staying there, he would quickly write out on a sticky note that he loves you and he'll be home soon when he's more cooled off

^᪲᪲᪲ then he'll probably get into his car and drive around the campus,

^᪲᪲᪲ and he would probably put on a playlist that was ambience w/ light music in the background while he drives so he has something to focus on rather than his thoughts

^᪲᪲᪲ after he's been driving for about 30 minutes, he decides to run to the shop to grab some goodies for you before he comes back

^᪲᪲᪲ he'll get you a small bunch of your favorite flower, and a small teddy bear

^᪲᪲᪲ jason knows he doesn't really need to do this; as both of you were in the wrong in some way during your argument

^᪲᪲᪲ but he wants you to know that he loves you even when you don't meet eye to eye

^᪲᪲᪲ he quickly returns home, in his hands the gifts he had bought for you

^᪲᪲᪲ if he sees that you've been crying, he emideantaly drops his gifts and hugs you,

^᪲᪲᪲ "love, there's no reason to be upset. every couple has their moments; that doesn't mean that its over or anything like that. its just a little hiccup with us, but everyone has that in relationships."

^᪲᪲᪲ he would trace little hearts and stars onto your cheek as he calms you down

^᪲᪲᪲ ughh i need a jason grace in my life omg

^᪲᪲᪲ anyways..after he calmed you down, he explained his side of whatever you two were disagreeing on and how he thought he was right

^᪲᪲᪲ he's definitely one of those it's us against the world not us against eachother

^᪲᪲᪲ he'll have you explain to him what your perspective is and why you didn't agree with him

^᪲᪲᪲ and when you're explaining he'll nod after everything you say

^᪲᪲᪲ and he'll be rubbing your lower back with slow circles anytime you have to stop or if you're struggling saying your opinion

^᪲᪲᪲ he'll he really good at finding a middle ground between the two of you; and be able to sort things out

^᪲᪲᪲ as shown from above, jasons really heavy on communication in a relationship

^᪲᪲᪲ so he'll make sure that you understand why he was frustrated and that he understands why you were frustrated as well

^᪲᪲᪲ he wants to make sure that the disagreement the two of you were having wouldn't come up again or have a lower chance of occurring again

^᪲᪲᪲ he doesn't tell you that you were in the right if he knows that you weren't; he doesn't want you to start thinking that you're always right in every argument you have

^᪲᪲᪲ but he also doesn't want that for himself, so you remind him of that as well

^᪲᪲᪲ after the two of you find a middle ground for your argument, jason brings you to the living room so you two can sit down and relax

^᪲᪲᪲ "love, I was thinking that we could order some thai for dinner tonight?" (or whatever food you prefer!!)

^᪲᪲᪲ so then the two of you order some food, and pick out a moive or tv show to watch while you wait for your food to arrive

^᪲᪲᪲ butttt, if you're more upset when he does originally get back and still don't want him around you,

^᪲᪲᪲ he'll respect your request, knowing that you'd do the same for him; and that everyone needs their space sometimes and time away from others

^᪲᪲᪲ jason would leave for around 45 minutes, unless you text him saying that you were sorry and that he can come back

^᪲᪲᪲ I also feel like he wouldn't want either of you to apologize for how you were acting (unless it was completely out of hand) because those are the emotions you were feeling and he doesn't want to not express emotions if that makes sense

^᪲᪲᪲ anyway,, jason is overall really understanding of arguments and trys to find ways so the two of you can quickly resolve whatever you were disagreeing about

^᪲᪲᪲ and he'll be mature about the whole situation, taking everyone's feelings into consideration

[obsessedwithtoomanythings]

Keep Your Eyes Open

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: Smut, P in V, female anatomy, reader is called she, lots of talk of guns, but no gunplay (I mean, it’s on the table and it’s in her hand, but it’s never explicitly used for the sexual stuff), dirty talk, crush confessions, Leon asks her out then fucks her.

Words: 4K

A/N: This is my first smut in forever. Cheers to Leon S. Kennedy for bringing back that smut inspiration! Inspired by this post! Thanks to @angelltheninth for letting me write it!

“Listen, you know I consider you a friend… but-” Hunnigan starts, eyes filled with concern as she looks over the piece of paper littered with holes. Let’s just say more of my shots ended up in the wall behind the target than the actual target.

“I know, that’s why I’ve been going every day, Ingrid.” My defense is pointless, and we both know that.

“Your firearm recertification is in 3 days. If your accuracy doesn’t get better by then, you won’t be allowed to carry a gun. Do you understand what that means?” She asks as if I haven’t been losing sleep over the issue.

“I know.” It means I’ll be the only agent in this fucking building who isn’t carrying a gun. “I’ll become ‘the girl who can’t carry a gun’ faster than you can say ‘fuck off’.”

A scowl comes from the agent in front of me. “Language,” she reminds. “Maybe you should ask another agent to help?”

“And let the whole building know I’m about 11 shots away from failing my recertification? Pass. I’ll just go practice some more,” I scoff, before turning on my heel to step toward the door.

“Just think about it! I know a lot of agents who aren’t dicks and who are more than willing to help!” She shouts, but I’m not listening anymore. I step out of Ingrid’s office into the cool hallway, shutting the door behind me with an almost silent click. Taking a steadying breath, my feet begin to carry me toward the place I’ve been seeing in my nightmares lately. The shooting range.

“Hey, rookie!” I hear a voice say, halting me in my tracks before I was able to close much distance between me and the stairs. I turn my head toward the voice. Leon Kennedy.

“What’s up, Agent Kennedy?” It feels formal to call him that, but while we’re in this building, it feels wrong to call him by his first name, given he is technically my superior.

“Agent Kennedy? Feels a little formal,” he says with a teasing tone, and I chuckle at him voicing my thoughts.

“Well, we are at work,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. Leon and I have become an unlikely pair of friends. The best agent in practically the entire country and the agent who is about to fail her firearm recertification. ‘Maybe he’d be willing to help me?’ The thought is dismissed as quickly as it appeared. ‘And make him think you’re incompetent? Pass.’

“True. Still feels weird though, Agent.”

“Wow!” I gasp in feigned surprise. “I’m not ‘rookie’ anymore?” A small smile makes its way across his lips as he chuckles.

“You’re definitely still ‘rookie’, just felt like being nice.” His comment is followed by a brief roll of my eyes.

“Okay but seriously? What’s up? I have some stuff I have to do, unfortunately,” I sigh, anxiety filling me again.

“Well, I wanted to see what you were up to.” The smile is still there. Any idiot with eyes can see how attractive Leon is. Bright baby blues, cut jawline, nose that anyone would be lucky to sit on. I have definitely had more than my fair share of daydreams starring the agent in front of me.

“I was headed down to the shooting range. I have my recertification in 3 days.” I pray he’ll opt to find something else to do.

“Oh, that shit’s a cakewalk.” Yeah, for you.

“I really want to practice a bit more. I get nervous before stuff like this.” Admitting this is not an easy feat, my cheeks dusting a light pink in embarrassment.

“Okay,” he says, and for a moment, I think he’ll depart with a ‘good luck’ and a wave. Why the hell would I be so lucky? “I’ll come with. I’ve taken that test a few times so I’ll be able to reassure you that you’ll pass with flying colors.” My eyes widen significantly, and the nerves suddenly take over my tongue.

“N-no!” I stutter, much louder than I intended. His eyebrows furrow over in confusion at the sudden outburst. “I-I just assume you’ve got better things to do.” Smooth.

“Not really. I was hoping to spend some time with you, so it’s no big deal.” Kill me now. He moves toward me, wrapping an arm around my waist to turn me and walk toward the range. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

This is going worse than I could have ever imagined. The target has maybe 3 holes in it and I’ve unloaded a whole clip of 15 shots.

“Well, it’s better than the last clip,” he chuckles, eyes still locked on my practically unscathed piece of paper. The shots didn’t even hit anything vital. I drop my head to the countertop in front of me in defeat.

“I may as well just hand over my gun right now,” I mutter into the hard surface below my forehead. Leon’s hand rests on my back comfortingly before he speaks.

“No, come on. I’ll help you,” he says, bringing the target closer to switch it out for a new one. I turn my head toward him with raised eyebrows, mostly in a ‘how can you possibly fix this?’, my temple resting against the cool surface now. “I noticed a couple of things you can fix that’ll help.” A sigh, forehead back on the counter. Leon pats my back again. “Seriously. Come on.” I rise up again, cheeks red from embarrassment as he pushes the target back to the required distance. Not that I think I’d do any better if it was closer.

“Leon, it’s pointless.”

“No, it’s not. Raise the gun.” I roll my eyes and do as he instructed. “Okay, first off, you’re locking your elbows. Loosen up.” He says, tapping a finger in the crook of my elbow. A chill runs down my spine at the contact. ‘Wow, it’s been too long since I got laid.’ I drop my elbows slightly, noting that it definitely feels awkward.

“This feels weird,” I mutter. Leon smirks.

“I’m sure it does if you’ve been firing with your elbows like that. Loosening them helps with controlling movement caused by the recoil.” He explains, and I’m grateful he’s actually telling me reasons, as it’ll make it easier to remember. “Do you fire with your feet like that?” I glance down at my position, my feet across from each other, shoulder width apart.

“Yeah?” I say, forming it as a question.

“Bring your dominant foot forward. It’ll steady you more,” He says, his tone definitely airing more on the professional side.

“Sir, yes, sir.” The words are mumbled with a light giggle at the end, and a small smile raises the corner of Leon’s lips.

“Okay try firing now.”

I squeeze the trigger slowly, the jolt surprises me which causes my eyes to close for a split second, and to steady myself, I accidentally move my feet back into their original position. The shot lands in the wall. Again. The disappointment on my face must be tangible from a mile away.

“Okay, I think I can fix this actually,” he says, and I sigh in defeat.

“Yeah I’m sure you can, super cop.”

Suddenly, as if the world is working against me, his much larger frame is pressed against my backside. Feeling his chest rise against my back and his hips grazing my ass, I breathe in a quick gasp. Completely enveloped in his scent, hard lines of muscle and heat practically radiating from him, it’s a miracle I don’t melt into a puddle right here on the concrete. His hands find my ear protection, removing the makeshift headphones from my ears, much to my confusion.

“The problem is,” he says, his breath tickling my ear, and I swear he can feel the shiver that runs down my spine, pooling in my panties. “You’re scared of it.”

“W-what?” I stutter, completely affected by his presence.

“You’re scared of the gun. The recoil scares you, and so does the sound of the shot,” he explains, voice barely above a whisper. “I think you’ll find the sound isn’t nearly as loud as you think.” His arms come up, fingers grazing along my skin which causes goosebumps to rise across my arms. He rests his hands right below my elbows, the warmth practically seeping into my bones. “Let me take the recoil. Just focus on keeping your eyes open.” His words send a wave of heat through my spine and I try and fail to not shift against him. His leg shifts forward, forcing my dominant leg into the position he recommended earlier, which presses his hips tighter against me. I almost topple over from the overwhelming sensation of heat from him mixed with his intoxicating scent filling my senses, and for a moment, my vision blurs and I squeeze my eyes shut to clear the sight. Like flipping a switch, his fingers graze my chin, lightly pressing against the edges of my jaw to get my attention.

“Leon, I can’t-”

“I believe I asked you to keep these open, sweetheart.” The agent’s voice is rough in against my ear, and I can feel the vibrations from his words rumble through his chest against my back. It feels like I peel my eyes back open as they beg to remain closed, and I attempt to get my focus on the target in front of me instead of the man behind me. “Now, squeeze the trigger.”

As I do, his hips move forward against me, and I release a gasp. Focusing on keeping my eyes open. The shot rings out, not nearly as loud as I assumed without the ear protection on. Exactly like Leon said. It makes contact with the paper, inches from the paper’s bullseye. My jaw drops at the sight. I actually hit the target.

“Good girl,” he mutters, arms dropping to rest against my waist tenderly. “Told you. You were focusing on it too much.” I feel my arms relax, pointing the barrel of the gun toward the counter as I attempt to turn around to face him, but his frame is like a brick wall.

“Leon,” I begin before another intake of air comes from my chest as Leon’s lips land on the soft skin of my neck. The reaction is immediate, my hips canting back toward him as I set the gun down.

“Nuh uh, baby. Pick that back up and finish unloading the whole clip,” he breathes into the column of my throat. “Want you to get used to this stance so you’re ready for your exam.” The light kisses quickly dissolve into small nips and bites, a moan tearing from my lips as my head lolls back, resting on his shoulder. He stops immediately.

“Leon wait-”

“I told you to finish firing the clip. It’s only 14 more shots. I think you can handle it.” A breath breaks from my chest as I lean forward, arms coming back up into the position Leon had put me in, although his hands remain on my hips this time. The gun goes off again with a bang once, twice, three times, landing in similar spots as the first shot, although they are definitely getting closer to the edge of acceptable. They are hitting the target though. As I squeeze the fourth shot, the man behind me pushes his hips forward again. “Stop thinking, sweetheart.”

“You know, if you wanted to fuck me, you could have just asked me to dinner.” The words come out much more breathy than intended, and I feel like I’m waving a neon sign that says ‘I want you to fuck me’. He chuckles lowly against me, his breath tickling my ear once again.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d take that,” he admits.

“But pushing your hips into me isn’t more forward than that?” I tease. Fifth shot. Only 9 more. He shrugs.

“I came up behind you to gauge the reaction before I did that though, didn’t I?”

“And what did my reaction tell you, Agent Kennedy?” My words are much softer now as if talking louder would shatter the mood of the room, which is alight with tension.

“That you want me to fuck you silly.” Sixth shot. “Did I read that right, rookie?”

Seventh shot. I nod gently, trying not to seem eager, despite the fact that my panties are practically ruined by this point, heat gathering in my lower belly and twisting.

“Leon, can we just-” His fingers skim over the waistline of my skirt, just barely dipping below it.

“No. Not until I know you’ll pass that recertification.” He’s gone back to nipping at my neck until he finds that patch of skin where my neck meets my shoulder. A moan leaves my lips unbidden, and I can practically feel his smirk against my skin. “Go on, sweetheart.”

Eighth shot. More than halfway done. His hand drops down further into my skirt until it’s grazing across the damp spot on my panties and I feel more than hear the low groan that he releases. “Fuck, baby.” My arms go lax as his fingers draw a single circle over my clit through the delicate lace before he moves to remove his hand altogether. 

“Leon, no,” I protest as he presses his lips against my ear, intentionally using a low rumbling tone.

“Finish. Firing.” The command springs arms back up into position.

Ninth shot. Tenth shot. Eleventh shot.

“Doing so good, baby,” The praise goes straight through me, a wave of arousal leaking through the lace. Hands dropping back down to my clit, Leon pushes my panties to the side easily, swirling a finger through the wetness pooling there before bringing it up to press cruelly against my nerve endings. “Is all this for me, sweetheart?” Twelfth shot. I nod, lips pressed tightly together to muffle the squeaks and sounds attempting to leave my throat from his attention. Thirteenth shot. One more.

As I squeeze the trigger on the final shot, Leon’s fingers press into me harshly, hitting that sweet spongy part inside unintentionally and it causes a jolt in my limbs. The shot hits the wall with a pop. I hear a brief ‘tsk-tsk’ in my ear before he speaks.

“Reload.”

“But I-”

“I said, reload. You’re gonna do all fifteen again.” Dread takes over and I feel tears pool in my eyes in frustration, and Leon coos in my ear at the sight. “Oh, poor baby. You can do this.”

“Leon, please, I can’t. I need-” I gasp, setting down the gun on the counter being careful not to flag either of us. (cause gun safety is a thing).

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” Cocky asshole.

“You.” The word is nothing but a plea.

“Aw, baby. How about I give you what you need, and then you fire off those fifteen shots? That sound like something you can do for me, pretty girl?” I nod eagerly against his shoulder before his hand is between my shoulder blades, pressing my chest to the chilly countertop.

“What about the door?” I ask, breathless and red in the face.

“I locked it when we came in here,” he mumbles as he grips the hem of my skirt and brings it up until he can see the damp lace covering me. Did he plan this? The question surfaces but before it can leave my mouth, my panties hit the floor around my ankles. “Fuck, I wanna taste you,” he whispers, more to himself than anything, but I groan in protest.

“Please just fuck me, Leon,” I practically beg, impatience leaking from my pores at this point.

“I don’t know babe, I’m kinda hungry,” he says, and I don’t need to turn around to know his signature smirk is plastered on his face.

“I will let you later, I promise. I need you right now. Inside.” His chest presses to my back, bringing his mouth close enough to hear him as he speaks.

“Later? You saying you want more than just this?” The clinking of his belt is audible over my heavy breathing because of course, I’m the only one out of breath. I nod. “I wanna hear it, sweetheart.”

“Yeah. I like you,” I start, arms splayed out flat over the top of the counter, fingers searching for purchase.

“Maybe we should get dinner after this then?” He asks, still smiling. I nod.

“Fucking finally,” I mutter and upon hearing this, Leon laughs. Not a deep chuckle, not a teasing sound, a real laugh. An almost embarrassed laugh. Hands finding my waist and giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“Took my time with it, didn’t I?” He asks, and I can hear the nerves in his tone. He’s embarrassed. Like, really truly embarrassed.

“Yeah, you sure di-” The words are cut off as he presses the head against my entrance, dipping the tip in for the briefest of seconds before pulling out and repeating the process. It feels like hours of this torture, his teasing thrusts and slight grazes over my clit before he finally, finally, slides in to the hilt, bottoming out in one stroke. We both release groans at the sensation of my walls molding to accommodate his length, twitching, and spasming as I tighten unconsciously.

“Holy shit, pretty girl, I wasn’t expecting you to be this tight,” he growls into my spine, hunched over my frame as he collects himself. When he does, he leans back, hands moving from my hips to grasp my shoulders, bringing my front away from the surface til I’m practically upright, his cock still nestled snuggly in my heat.

“What are you-”

“Now, reload the gun.” His tone sends a wave of slick down around his length, and he rumbles a groan against my collarbone.

“What-”

“I told you that you were gonna fire off those fifteen shots.” My hands shake as I grasp the glock in my hands, reloading and then trying and failing to return to my stance, so I opt to just position my arms correctly. “Good girl.”

My finger in place, I take a deep steadying breath squeezing. Leon pulls his hips back and slams back home as the shot rings out, and I stop a scream from ripping free as my hands fly back to the counter.

“Lee, you can’t just do that.” The words come out as more of a moan than actual words, the syllables slurring together like a girl who’s had one too many drinks.

“Yet you still hit the target,” he says proudly. I look up and notice that there are fifteen holes in the paper. Sixteen total shots were taken and only one missed. Shit if I had known this is how to get good at shooting, I would have asked sooner. “Come on. You got fourteen more, sweetheart.”

The other shots follow the same routine as the first.

Shot.

Thrust.

Praise.

By the time I’m on the last three shots, my whole body feels like it’s on fire, every inch covered in sweat from his punishing thrusts, tears dripping from my eyes.

“You are doing so good, baby. Three more.” He sounds as wrecked as I feel, voice gravelly against my pulse. His hands grip beneath my elbows again, pressing them back into the correct form. “You are so close.”

The bullet hits the paper with an audible pop. His cock slams back into me, tip hitting my cervix hard enough that I’m pretty sure it’ll be bruised. Broken moans fall from my dry lips, mouth feeling akin to sandpaper.

“Good job, baby. Two more.”

“Please just come for me Leon, I can’t anymore,” My arms droop, barely able to hold the weight of the gun that I’ve grown used to by this point.

“Come on, you can do this. It’s just two more shots. You are doing so well,” he reassures before sinking his teeth into my skin, leaving a plethora of bruises and marks across the tender flesh. 

“What if I miss?” I ask, anxiety poking through, mind locked on how he stopped last time.

“I won’t stop this time. You’ve more than made up for the shot you missed earlier.” I sigh in relief. Forcing my arms back up, I try to steady myself before Leon’s fingers find my clit and I squeal, completely losing my aim due to the tight circles he’s rubbing. “Take the shot, baby.”

I fire, bullet catching the edge of the bullseye and I feel a swell of pride before Leon presses a deep thrust accompanied by a swirl on my clit, and his name spills from my lips as a plea.

“Please come for me, please.”

“Tell you what, if you get a bullseye, then I’ll cream this little pussy, how’s that sound, baby?” The pace of his fingers doesn’t change, and I can really only nod, mind barely able to remember why we were in here in the first place.

Taking aim. Deep breath. Squeeze.

The bullet lands dead in the middle of the red target. I practically drop the gun from my fingers, relief overtaking my senses.

“Atta girl,” Leon groans, pressing my frame onto the counter as he picks up speed to a fast pace, leaning down to crowd against me. My fingers reach up behind me, bent at the elbows, to cling to his hair that grazes against my temple as my eyes squeeze shut. His name is a broken sound coming from my lips as the coil in my gut tightens with each twirl of his fingers and each pass of his tip against my sweet spot. “Open your eyes when you come for me, rookie.”

Most of his words are just a jumble as the coil snaps and a scream rips from my already sore throat, but I can make out a ‘good girl’ and ‘creaming my cock so good, gorgeous’ here and there through the haze of my orgasm. It takes a few more thrusts before Leon groans and curses, lips pressed to my spine as he spills himself inside my still-spasming hole.

It takes a few moments for us to move again, deep breaths the only audible sound in the silent room. He’s the first to move (him and his damn stamina), sitting up to stand before slowly pulling his length out, watching as his seed trickles out slowly and groaning at the sight. Leon reaches down, pulling my panties back up and adjusting them into place tenderly, mindful of the soreness he had no doubt was blooming. With a small tug and some slight wobbling on my end, Leon helps me into a standing position facing him now, small of my back barely resting against the edge of the counter as his hands hold me steady.

“You alright?” He asks, and I giggle and smile in response, leaning my face forward into his shoulder. He chuckles to himself, pressing a kiss to my hair. “I mean it, you okay?”

“Mhm. I’m good. You owe me dinner though.”

“Of course, need me to carry you?” I nod through a wave of sleepiness.

“Wait,” I say, hands on his chest as he looks at me, blue eyes shining with concern. “Can you kiss me?” I ask, shyness returning full force, and he laughs again. In favor of answering, he leans forward, pressing his lips against mine in a sweet, tender kiss. His lips are dry, as evidence of our exertion. We pull back from the kiss with dumb smiles decorating our faces, and he pulls my skirt down to cover my panties, planting another quick kiss on my mouth.

“So where do you want to go to eat?”

I step out into the hallway, flat shoes making far less noise than my usual heels. Leon looks at me expectantly.

“So?” I skip up to him, lips finding his as my arms wrap around his broad shoulders. Pulling back, I shoot him a smile before speaking.

“Guess who just passed her firearm recertification with flying colors?” I tease.

“Nice! See? I told you, cakewalk.”

Tags: @house-of-kolchek