#the worst part is I actually have a decent shot. it’s far from certain this is gonna be competitive as hell but I can Do This. theoretically

[exopelagic]

why do applications feel like your soul is being lightly roasted at 180C

[christinebloodwrittings]

Please

Loki x FemReader

Warnings: Mentions of injuries and blood.

Y/n returned from a mission, closely being followed by a very worked up Captain America and Black Widow.

Y/n was beyond exhausted, bruises forming on her skin quickly, one of the enemy's shot rose her leg, so she was visibly limping and grunting in pain as she walked outside the elevator and into the compound's living room.

"You guys look like you had fun" Clint joked, getting groans and scoffs in return, only widow was grateful for his dull humor, seeing her friend made her feel better somehow, of course that didn't exactly made her physical condition any better.

All that Y/n wanted was to lay down and surrender to slumber and hope that the hurting would go away with a pill and the so craved rest.

But one certain god had other plans.

"Oh, already falling for me, mortal?" he snickered when he tripped her on purpose, just to catch her before hitting the ground.

Loki liked the game they had, when they pretended to be enemies and always be at each other's throats. The two actually got along pretty well, managing to establish a decent friendship, but Loki wanted more.

Y/n wasn't far behind, she wanted the god, perhaps as much as he wanted her, but he had chosen the worst moment to annoy her, since not only had she returned injured, but the base in which they infiltrated ended up destroyed, and she couldn't stop feeling like it was her fault.

"Come on Loki, not today" she tried to stand up straight, but he was certainly stronger, and giving that she was squirming under his touch, as usual, he continued on his game by pinning her to the nearest wall.

"Why not, pet? You know you love it" his velvet-like voice and the little purr his throat made sent shivers down her spine, must've been either that or her efforts to keep a cry of pain, since Loki had his hands right over her most recent bruises.

"Loki, not today" she said in a more stern tone, but he didn't cared, he spun her around, puling her back flush against his chest, her face slamming against the cold wall.

"You forget who I am, pet, do not test my patience, or I will not be nice with your punishment" he had always called her "pet" referring to it as a nickname, but that time it came out as a degradation.

She had enough, she was not having one more second of it. With her head she hit his chin, and when he was distracted she kicked him in the stomach, causing him to fall on his butt, his back against the opposite wall.

"I said, not today" she put everything in hiding the fact that she hit him with her injured leg, and the shiver that creeped on her spine when she felt the blood dripping down her thigh.

He looked up to her in shock, holding his stomach with one hand and his chin with the other. He had never seen her so mad before, he realized she was being serious, and as he watched her walk away, he felt his insides squirm, it was a mix between anger, confusion, pain, and concern.

But his pride got the best of him, and despite of how much he wanted to apologize, he only stood up and walked back to his room.

She, as much as it hurt, did not want to make the trip to the medical wing again, so she locked herself in her room instead and tried to heal her wounds on her own, failing miserably.

A feeling of nostalgia made her think of him. In the warmth she felt when he touched her, for whatever reason really. She liked having him close to her, and in that moment she needed him more than ever.

With tears streaming down her eyes, given the pain she felt when walking, the frustration at not knowing how to bandage her own wounds, and how much she needed a hug from the man she loved, she walked with difficulty to the second floor and taking a lot of courage she knocked at his door.

(Like for part 2)

[whoacanada]

Zimmerbro AU

Summary: Andrew Phillip Rowe could skate before he could walk, and it wasn’t until he was almost twenty and well on his way to becoming a Las Vegas Ace before he knew why.

a/n: that’s right we’ve got a secret zimmermann brother au based on the fact that Bob was an active pro athlete for almost 15 years before Jack was born and almost definitely had relationships before Alicia. This particular one resulted in a secret love child.

When the call finally went out that year —  a request for players willing to billet the incoming draftees —  Andrew had been the first in line.

His already sparsely decorated guest room had been primed for a new tenant since he’d learned Las Vegas’ abysmal season had earned them the first pick of the 2009 draft. In his mind, Andrew had envisioned a tearful confession. A family reunion nineteen years in the making where he’d finally get a chance to connect with a half-brother he’d grown up learning about through news articles and stats pages.

He wasn’t ready for Jack to pull out of the draft days before the ceremony; wasn’t ready for the claims of an overdose or speculation about suicide attempts. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have to open his home to a young man with limp blonde hair and deep circles under his eyes with the same enthusiasm he’d promised he’d offer to a son of Bob Zimmermann.

Andrew was hoping for a little brother. 

He got Kent Parson instead.

______

“You remind me of my boyfriend.” Kent slurs one night, completely gone on Johnny Walker Blue borrowed from Andrew’s wet bar. “It’s your . . . face.”

“Shouldn’t talk about things like that,” Andrew cautions gently, covering his own surprise. “Never know who might be listening.”

“Who fucking cares? He won’t talk to me,” Kent continues, ignoring him and sniffing like he’s on the verge of sobbing or puking, both options equally unwanted. “They wouldn’t tell me if he was even alive.”

Another unwanted puzzle piece locks into place.

“Jack?” Andrew suggests softly, and Kent begins to cry.

“You won’t tell right?”

Andrew shakes his head no, long enough for Kent’s bleary eyes to focus on the gesture and take it seriously.

Things are different, after that conversation. Not worse, or better, just different.

________

“He’s my brother.”

Andrew admits this one night, for no reason other than that he can.

Kent is across the room, backlit by lights from the Strip, his legs dangling off the arm of his favorite couch as he scrolls through his phone looking for distractions. Parse hasn’t lived with Andrew for almost two seasons, but he still turns up like a bad penny whenever he needs to commiserate with someone who knows his more lascivious secrets. Truthfully, Andrew’s grateful for the company. He’s a pretty genial guy, but he’s always kept his distance, a personality trait he likes to think he shares with an unassuming sibling, but there’s no way to know for sure. The farther Andrew gets from the 2009 Draft, the less faith he has in a reunion that won’t just bring crippling sorrow to everyone involved.

A secret Zimmermann son who actually made it in the NHL. Who has his name on the Stanley Cup, not once, but twice, largely thanks to the spitfire forward lounging in Andrew’s living room.

“Who’s your brother?” Kent asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Jack Zimmermann.”

Kent barks a laugh and rolls his head lazily to smirk at Andrew.

“That’s funny. I guess you kinda have the same chin. Was Marky digging for chirps?”

Andrew has no idea what that means, but he sets down his tablet and says, “No, he’s actually my half-brother. My mom dated Bad Bob in ’84 and got pregnant.”

The lackadaisical smile on Kent’s face falters as his gaze sharpens, like he’s actually looking at Andrew for the first time. Andrew responds by gesturing at himself lamely.

“That’s not funny.”

“No.” Andrew agrees. “It isn’t.”

Kent swings his feet down off the couch and braces himself against the overstuffed leather. He doesn’t look mad, but there’s something too close to disbelief for Andrew to convince himself everything’s okay. It takes a moment, but Kent must find what he’s looking for on Andrew’s face.

“Does Bob know?” Kent asks with that familiar overfamiliarity, as if they both still have some personal relationship with the living legend.

“Yeah. When Mom got pregnant she told him she didn’t want the attention since it was only a fling — ”

“Who the fuck doesn’t lock down Bob Zimmermann?” Kent breathes. “Also, why the fuck did she tell you that?”

“No shit, right? She got him to sign away parental rights, set up a trust, never spoke to him again as far as I know. I didn’t find out until after I signed with the Aces. She didn’t want me to get blindsided if it all came out, but the story never broke.”

“I mean, does Bob know who you are?” Kent questions. “Does Jack?”

Andrew shakes his head no, because he doesn’t think so, and Kent flops back against the cushions, face slack with disbelief; it doesn’t take long for his features to shift to anger.

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Even after I told you —“

“Okay, there’s a whole-ass difference between you fucking dudes and and me being ‘Bad Bob’s bastard’,” Andrew bites, curtailing Kent’s imminent hissy fit. Appropriately, Kent closes his mouth, almost pouting.

“Fine. But that’s fucked.” Kent says after a loaded moment of silence. “I’m sorry you’re . . . you.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you’re you, too.”

“You know Jack’s signing with the Falconers, right?” Kent offers like the worst kind of olive branch, unintentionally telling Andrew exactly what he was up to during that stretch of time between New England games a few months prior. “It’s not public but it’s happening. Ink’s dry.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. It’s gonna be weird,” Andrew swallows, thinking about playing Providence in the coming months.

“Fucking right it’s weird.”

_________

For the most part, the Las Vegas Aces are decent, stand up guys. Even with the accusations of gambling debts and mob connections with the ownership group, Andrew’s never been asked to hit a certain player a little too hard, or to take a dive so the other team gets a shot at a power play. A lot of talk, a lot of conspiracies, ‘Typical Aces hockey’, but there’s no malice. Not really.

Andrew thinks it’s hilarious he plays the game a lot like his estranged father, but he’s not a legend in the making, hell, at this point he’s barely regarded as more than a mid-level, reliable center that can bring home 40 points a season.

Carly whips behind Zimmermann’s back to clip his skate with a stick, dropping a ill advised chirp that sets every player in earshot on edge. Parse is close enough to catch the quiet slur, stiffening like he’s been hit, and Andrew watches Zimmermann recover quickly, steely and resolute. 

Jack has his mother’s eyes — not the warm brown Andrew catches every time he looks in the mirror.

“He’s a fucking goon,” Andrew breathes, gliding up to Jack’s shoulder in lieu of an apology. Zimmermann doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking to Andrew with the quiet rage of ‘who gives a fuck’. Andrew admires his commitment to the game. Coming back after so much, after so long, to willingly subject himself to the same kind of treatment that Andrew knows likely led to his original fall from grace.

“Hey,” Kent ducks his head as he slides up a little while later, mouthguard clenched between his teeth, and asks, “You see his twink?”

At Andrew’s obvious confusion, Kent jerks his head toward the glass behind the Falconers’ bench, to a raucous group of fans all sporting fresh Zimmermann jerseys. Andrew’s gaze drifts along the row of faces, lingering longer on the familiar, handsome couple beside the blonde young man. He may be imagining things — the stadium lights catching a bad angle —  but for the briefest moment, Andrew holds eye contact with his father.

“He’s cute, right?” Kent says bitterly, like he doesn’t have a partner of his own back home.

“Yeah, he is. You gonna do anything about the slurs, Captain?” Andrew counters, earning a stern look from Parson.

“I’ll deal with Carly.”

“Oh, you will? Because I’ve never seen you shut him down before.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Kent’s expression goes stormy, and he gives Andrew a hard shove before skating off to set up for the next shift. To his credit, he does grab Carly by the arm and tell him something that earns a look of displeasure from the larger man, but Andrew knows a verbal warning won’t curtail someone as dead-set in his conservatism as Carly.

The next play, Carly flashes Andrew a toothy smile over the lineman’s shoulder, as if they’re in on the same joke, and his vision goes red.

__________

__________

“Bad Bob’s outside,” Scraps rasps, like whatever brief interaction he’s just had has physically winded him. “He wants to talk to Flip.”

Andrew blinks up from the water bottle in his hands, previously concerned with the pink-stained gauze wrapped around his knuckles. A few of the guys start chirping, but most of them remain silent, still processing the fact that Andrew assaulted one of their own without clear motivation, in defense of an opponent.

“That’s what this was all about? You gunning for a trade?” Sorenson spits from his stall. “Needed to impress Bad Bob by beating the snot out of Carly?”

“Maybe I am,” Andrew sighs, pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the way his jaw aches from the few good hits Carly had managed to squeeze in before he went down. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it.”

_______

Andrew’s grateful he kept his skates on. He needs the boost of confidence that comes with the added height, especially when he finds Bob Zimmermann waiting patiently in the corridor like he’s just another staff member and not the second most recognizable figure in modern hockey.

“Hey kid,” Bob greets, casting an approving, overly-familiar eye over Andrew’s padded bulk and sweat-slick hair. “You can throw a hell of a punch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy beat the piss out of a teammate before. Off ice, sure, but never during a game.”

His accent is just as thick in private as every interview Andrew’s ever caught live — but his tone is unexpectedly warm, even grateful — when Bob laughs at his own recounting of Andrew’s assault attempt, the sound is light and joyous like nothing in the world comes easier to this titan of a man.

Andrew wonders if Bob can recognize the chin they share beneath a his playoff beard; if there’s any resemblance left in a nose that’s been reset a half-dozen times.

Andrew grew up loved and never wanted for anything. His step-fathers, both of them, had been good men who never left him looking for a father figure. It wasn’t until his twenties that Andrew even realized there was hole where his bio-dad should have been, and not just a regular hole, a yawning sinkhole threatening to devour his entire sense of self, because his biological father turned out to be a man he grew up idolizing as a personal hero.

He’s not mad at his mother, but when Andrew struggles to find his voice — which is bullshit seeing as he’s almost thirty-five and a god-damned professional athlete — he can’t stop himself from feeling like a misplaced child.

“Do you,” Andrew swallows, looking over Bob’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching them. Finding they’re alone, he rallies quietly, “Do you know who I am?”

Bob’s jovial expression softens into something remorseful, but unfathomably kind. “I do, buddy,” he acknowledges, somehow squeezing three decades of affection into one term of endearment. “I’ve known for some time, now. The whole time, actually.”

That hurts more than expected.

“Does your wife? Does Jack?”

Bob shakes his head, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Alicia knows, and Jack has some idea he’s got a half-brother, but it’s all in the abstract. No specifics. Definitely doesn’t know you play. I wanted to respect your privacy and your mother’s wishes. She let me know she’d told you the truth a few years back and I wanted to give you the space you needed if you decided to reach out. When you didn’t, well, a man makes assumptions.”

Andrew looks down at the concrete beneath his skates and sniffs hard, fighting nasal drip from the smelling salts he’d needed in the third period; or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. “I had a plan, back when — ” he stops himself, looking down at his skates. Bob’s eyebrows lift in curiosity, leaving room for Andrew to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t take the bait, unable to bring up what could have been just yet. Bob seems to grasp the context after the moment.

“2009,” he acknowledges softly. “Hell of a year.”

“Yeah. It was. Is he okay?”

“What, Jack? He’s leagues ahead of where he was then —”

“No, I mean, tonight. Carly clipped him pretty hard before I got in there.”

“Oh, a little bruised up, but he’ll live. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay.”

Andrew looks down at his bandaged fist and realizes he’s completely forgotten how gnarly his face must look.

“Trainer says I’m alright, but I’m gonna get leveled with a wicked fine, I know it.”

“Was it worth it?” There’s a look of guilty pride on Bob’s face, like the man’s enjoying himself a little too much when he leans in and whispers, “You just did something I’ve wanted to do since Jack was in mites. Fucking lay out one of those fuckers that’s got nothing better to do than bitch because they can’t play,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he’s worried about pushing a boundary, before he adds, “How’d it feel to look out for your little brother?”

Pride, it turns out, in contagious, and Andrew feels like he could go back on the ice and do it all over again. “Pretty fucking great,” Andrew can’t help a smile, wincing when the gesture pulls at his split lip.

Bob slaps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder pads, then gets a grip on the back of his head, heedless of his sweaty hair.

“Crisse, you’re a fuckin’ beaut, kid. I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”

Andrew can’t blame the smelling salts anymore.

__________

Jack clearly doesn’t see his father standing there with red-rimmed eyes, or Andrew in an equally unkempt state, and has no reason to think anything untoward has happened when he offers a handshake and pulls Andrew into a hug, bouncing his free fist off the back of Andrew’s pads. “I owe you a drink,” Jack says decisively when he pulls back, shooting a grin between his father and Andrew. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“More than a drink, I think,” the blonde guy Andrew saw behind the bench pipes up. Jack’s ‘twink’. Boyfriend. Whatever. “Dinner at least.”

“A pie,” Bob suggests tightly, keeping his voice even as he turns to quickly scrub his fist over his eyes. Andrew recognizes the statuesque woman who strides up beside Bob, and one quick look tells him she definitely knows who he is.

“Hello, Andrew,” Alicia greets softly, genuinely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” he says, the tightness in his throat coming out as gruffness rather than emotion. “This is great, but I should go shower and, uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

Bob’s hand whips out and fists the sleeve of Andrew’s sweater, keeping him in place.

“You have plans tonight?”

Andrew debates lying, because he doesn’t know how to move forward from this point, but they’re all looking at him. Waiting. Expectant. There’s too much at stake, and yet somehow — A sharp whistle drags Andrew’s attention back to the locker room. Kent is peeking his head out, and god knows how long he’s been eavesdropping.

“Yo, Zimmermanns. Bittle.”

“Parson.” The blonde says curtly, earning a wry smirk from Kent.

“Flip, we got a presser if you feel like putting a bow on the evening,” Kent’s gaze drifts to Bob’s flushed face, and he adds, “Or, you can shower and slip out the loading bay while I cover for your aggro ass because this is not going to be fun. Your call.”

Andrew looks at the small family surrounding him, his family, and says, “I don’t want to explain.” Kent shrugs and ducks back inside while Bob’s brow furrows in confusion. “I can do dinner, but I don’t want to,” Andrew holds his hands out in front of him, trying to gesture what he means, and Bob snaps his fingers in understanding.

“Ah, ha, I got you, kid.”

“Neat. I’m gonna go shower.”

“We will be here when you’re ready,” Alicia offers. “Take your time.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrew replies before he can stop himself, cringing the second his back is turned because what the fuck could he be any more awkward?

Time will tell.

_____________

.

[its-deputy-caleb]

haiiiiiiiiiiiiii can we get a john x fem reader wherein the reader is the doctor and a friend of the macfarlanes and they patch him up after getting shot by bill LOL (rdr1!! i’m not sure if you’ve played that but if you havent it’s ok to ignore this tysm :3)

WOAHH this is long overdue but I haven’t played the first (don’t kill me) so I decided to watch a 10hr play through— I’m yet to finish it cause its long and I’m watching it in short segments but I think I could tackle this. I really hope this doesn’t flop bc idk what I’m doing lmao.

-----------------------------------

It’s just a regular afternoon when Bonnie returns back to the ranch, you’re cleaning some of the medical cabinets, making lists of what needs to be topped up when you next take a trip to town or the Ranch’s general store. It’s light work for an easy afternoon but that all change pretty quickly when Bonnie came storming through the door, asking you for help on a man who’d been shot and needed urgent medical attention.

The list of medicines is dropped to the floor as she shows you to one of the units where he was currently laid out in the bed. You sat down, clearing his shirt and jacket to stop the bleeding and clean the wound. You were well focused on your work, stitching up the wound with practiced ease and addressing his other minor injuries like the small cut to the back of his head from hitting the ground and the bruising to his ribs from the bullet wound. Unbeknown to you, Bonnie has taken a stand behind your shoulder to watch you work.

“Damn fool thought he could take out Bill Williamson.”

“Bill Williamson?”

You could only stare down in surprise at the unconscious man before you. A man like Bill Williamson was not to be reckoned with, especially in a shootout if the evidence before you is anything to go by.

It took a few more hours of care but Bonnie stayed with you to make light of the situation and keep you company, only coming and going to bring back any supplies you needed. Once you’d properly bandaged his abdomen you stood from the shabby wooden stool you were sitting on and dusted your hands. You collected your tools into your bag and placed a soft hand to Bonnie’s shoulder.

“He should be fine now. He’s going to need lots of rest while his wound heals and he’ll probably be disoriented and dehydrated when he wakes but nothing more, you’ll find me if his condition worsens?”

Bonnie gave you a short nod in agreement, happy to stay with him for a few hours while you went and got some rest.

-

John woke with a splitting headache and a burning pain in his side. The events of the last few days coming back to him. He didn’t get time to think about it much however, when a golden haired woman came through the door, instantly giving him a light hearted lecture about chasing after Bill Williamson and getting shot at.

“Well while you may have done something stupid— we got to you in time and the Doc fixed you up real fine, got the bullets removed a few days ago. You’re a lucky man Mr…err?”

John made his way to the edge of the bed, sitting up and groaning at the pain that is usual for a bullet wound.

“Mr. Marston— John Marston and I suppose I should be thankin’ him for fixing me up.”

The woman leaned against the handle of the door, watching him shuffle on his feet awkwardly as she smirked at him.

“Bonnie MacFarlane. Miss, Bonnie MacFarlane and I hope you do thank her. She did a real fine job of takin’ care of you. She spends her mornings up on the hill by one of the large oak trees by the paddock, I suggest you pay her a visit before you start working off your medical bills.”

And with that, John picked up his hat from the wooden table that Bonnie had saved for him and started making his way over to you.

-

You were standing over by one of the smaller sheep paddocks off to the side of the MacFarlane Ranch and took in a deep breath, basking in the morning sun and leaning your elbows against the fence. You usually took the mornings to yourself, having half an hour to wake up slowly and enjoy yourself before you tented to a range of injuries and illnesses. Having been longtime friends to Bonnie and her father, your family had always been respected at the ranch and that came with certain privileges such as time off work in the morning.

Your peaceful moment was distributed, but not unpleasantly as you noticed the man who Bonnie bought in yesterday walking towards you. When he reached a certain distance his hat came off and held it in his hands, flattening his stringy hair as he addressed you.

“Pardon me ma’am, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Miss MacFarlane said you were the one needed thanking for taking care o’ me— so thank you.”

You noticed how he fiddled with the brim of his hat in his hands, trying not to look what you’d guess was embarrassed.

After you two introduced each other and you accepted John’s thanks, you offered for him to come and stand beside you by the fence.

“So who does a man have to be to go after an outlaw and bandit such as Bill Williamson?”

Your question was supposed to be lighthearted and fun, ready to tease him just as Bonnie had done for waltzing into Fort Mercer alone. You didn’t expect for John to answer you honestly

“An old friend…”

You stared at him in shock but he didn’t seem to notice as he stared out into the paddock of grazing sheep.

“Wait you know Bill Williamson?”

He could only nod for a moment, giving you a polite but almost sad smile at what seemed like a painful memory.

“Yes ma’am. There was a time when Bill and I weren’t so different.”

-

You actually spent a lot longer than you’d anticipated talking to John. For some reason unknown to you, John seemed to open up a fair bit. Maybe it all came down to the fact that you were approachable and kind, a quality you needed as the ranches doctor. Nevertheless he spent hours telling you about some of his time with the old ‘Van Der Linde Gang’. John spoke of train robberies and homesteads, what it was like to steal from folk and live wildly. He even mentioned gang rivalries and the epic tale of surviving a wolf attack.

He told you of some of the best times and even the worst but all of them were distance memories and he seemed quick to change the topic about why exactly he wanted to ‘reunite’ with Bill.

“What about you, Miss? How’d you end up here? Don’t see many female doctors around— w-with no offence intended ma’am.”

You let out a small laugh, hearing his curiosity turn to something desperate as he realised he may have been offensive. You kept your weight on one elbow, facing towards him and smiled.

“Well my daddy is the head doctor but he’s now semi retired. He’s a good man but he wasn’t always a doctor. A long time ago, when I was just a little girl our family were ranch handlers just like Bonnie’s family, but well… one season all the cattle got sick and were dying so my father moved to medicine. The MacFarlane’s are old friends and we’ve been with them ever since.”

John hummed, turning his gaze from you to stare at the vast Ranch that was almost a village in his eyes.

“Seem like good people— real decent folk.”

You nodded in response, growing up on this ranch became your home and you loved the MacFarlane’s very deeply.

“Indeed they are Mr.Marston, decent folk are hard to come by these days.”

Your pleasant conversation with John was suddenly interrupted by Bonnie who whistled down by the stables, clearly signalling for John to come and assist her with chores around the ranch. You could only hope that meant seeing more of John.

“It seems Miss MacFarlane will be needing my help. Thank you again ma’am, you saved my life.”

You didn’t get to say much as John took your hand in his, brining it to his mouth in a polite kiss to your knuckle before walking down the hill. He didn’t get far before you stopped him one last time.

“Oh Mr. Marston! I need to ride into town tomorrow to restock on medicines that they don’t stock at the general store. Would you be so kind as to accompany me?”

You eyes were full of hope and joy as he nodded and gave you a warm smile.

“It’s John, and I could think of nothing better than to help you ma’am”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto your face as you watched John load his horse and ride of with Bonnie and a few others to work at various places around the ranch. You couldn’t stop the fluttery feeling in your stomach either at the anticipation and excitement of getting to see the mysterious but intriguing man John Marston.

(I will do a part 2 since i need more time to get a feel for rdr1!!)

[inkandpen22]

Young Hearts Divided (5/?)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader 

Warnings: fluff, underage drinking, mild smut, swearing?

Word Count: 2.7k

Part Summary: it’s a few days after Y/N received her horrible news. Since then, she’s been acting as though everything fine. When Gryffindor wins against Hufflepuff and everyone gathers to celebrate, everything comes to ahead. 

Masterlist

Growing antsy, I check my watch for the tenth time in the last half hour. Oh good, finally! Sirius is finally out of detention! I scribble down the last bit of my paper and start to pack up my things to leave the library. Lily and Marlene peer up from their work across the table.

“Are you okay?” Marlene breaks the silence.

“Yeah, just peachy!” I press my lips together as I shove my textbook into my bag.

“Y/N, you don’t have to act like you’re okay,” Lily tries to reason with me gently. “You’re dealing with something-”

“Everything is fine, Lil!” I snap.

Lily and Marlene jumps slightly at my sudden rashness. Comprehending what I’ve just done, I take a deep breath and fill with instant regret. It’s not my friends’ fault, I shouldn’t take it out on them.

“I made my decision,” I state calmly. “Now it’s done.”

I start to rise from my seat and place my bag on my shoulder. Checking my watch again, I realize that I actually have a few extra minutes, oh well. I don’t think I can sit here in this silent library for much longer.

“Where are you going?” Marlene questions hesitantly and glances between me and Lily.

“I’m supposed to meet Sirius in the courtyard,” I rush out.

Lily’s face scrunches in confusion. “What about James?”

“What about him? See ya!” I force a smile and head toward the door.

Now I’m certain Lily and Marlene are going to have a field day with worrying about me. 

________________________

Laying in the grass of the courtyard under the tree, Sirius and I just lounge around for most of the afternoon. I rest against the bench and Sirius baths under the sun. He surprised me with blackberries he stole from the kitchens on his way here. I’ve challenged him to catch them in his mouth. Even when he has the advantage of me dropping it directly above his mouth, Sirius doesn’t have the best coordination.

“No, a thousand percent! Heart is much better than The Runaways.” I agree as I drop another blackberry.

Sirius actually catches it, so i playfully applaud him. He pretends to bow, struggling to suppress his laughter. Rolling onto his side to face me, he grabs a handle full of berries from the pile on the towel beside me.

“Do you think you’d ever be in a band like that?” He asks.

I laugh, “could you see me in a rock band?”

“Yeah, sure,” he nods, dead serious.

“What?!” I nudge him on the shoulder. “Are you mad?”

“Mad about you...” He smirks cheekily, meeting my gaze with hooded eyes.

I roll my eyes at his flirtatious innuendo, pressing my lips together to hide my childish grin. I can feel my cheeks getting warm and it’s not from the heat of the sun. With a flick of my wrist, I pick up a berry from the pile and hold it up to his mouth. He glances at it and back at me, anticipating me moving it away. Hesitantly, he leans forward to take the berry in his mouth. His eyes remain locked on mine. Then, I hurry and pop the berry in my mouth with a snicker.

"Oh you're gonna get it now!" Sirius laughs.

He grabs me by the waist and rolls me over so that I'm on his lap. Relentlessly, he starts tickling me, knowing how much I can't stand it. I wiggle in his hold, but I know he's far too strong and I don't stand chance.

“Sirius stop!” I squeal.

“Sorry, can’t hear you!” He mocks playfully.

“Sirius!” I laugh nervously, trying to pry his hands away.

“Not the magic word," Sirius teases in a sing-songy tone. "But by all means keep screaming my name," he purrs.

“I don’t know it!” I plead, struggling to cease my laughter.

“Oh sure you do! Think, Gorgeous, think!” He snickers.

“Padfoot!” I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“There it is!”

Sirius stops his attack and I relax beside him on the grass. My breathing slowly subsides as I pant. Rather proud of himself, Sirius watches me with a grin.

“You’re the worst!” I giggle, watching the clouds flow by as I catch my breath.

“You say that but you love me,” he winks.

I turn my head to the side and meet his gaze. "Most days," I admit quietly with a giggle.  

His face falls, "you what-”

“Y/N!” James's voice captures my attention.

I sit up to see him jogging over from the quidditch field with a smile.

“There you are, Darling! I’ve been looking for you," he greets warmly once he's closer.

Joining us, he sits on the bench beneath the tree and I crawl across the short distance to sit on the grass by him.  

“I’ve been here," I point out nonchalantly. "How was practice?”

“Decent. I’ve missed you today," he charms, rubbing his hand up and down my back.

“We saw each other this morning,” I snicker.

“Yes, but you were with Lily and Marlene. I hardly got to speak with you," he dramatically pouts like a child who lost his toy.

"That's what meals are for," I lecture.

I crisscross my arms on his leg and rest my chin on them, enjoying this beautiful afternoon. It's honestly the most perfect weather and spending it with my two favorite boys isn't too shabby either.

"I'm going to head out," Sirius announces, already to his feet.

I protest disappointedly, "but-"

"What's up mate?" James beats me to it.

Sirius shrugs, suddenly gloomy. "Nothing, just promised Remus I'd help him with something."

"Alright, see you at dinner then," James nods. "You're going to the game tonight right?"

Sirius mutters an agreement and glances down at me.

"I'll see you Y/N," he mumbles, offering me a weak smile.

I nod, "yeah, yeah most definitely!"

I don't want him to go. We were having so much fun. He turns to walk away and I mood is hindered. One minute we were having a blast, like how we were before... well before everything. Now, I'm just confused.

“Hey," James pulls my focus away from Sirius. "Excited for Hogsmeade next weekend?"

I hum, nodding my head enthusiastically. "It'll be a nice change of pace."

"I had an idea! After the game tonight, let’s go to the Astronomy Tower,” he suggests enthusiastically.

I shake my head, biting my lip to hide my grin. This boy is going to get me in trouble without a doubt.

"But what if we get caught?" I inquire wisely.

“I’ll bring my invisibility cloak,” he concludes without a care in the world.

I hum, thinking it over. If we do end up getting caught, that's my third detention this year. James better bring his cloak if I do agree to it.

“I’ll think about it.” I comply, not fully, but enough to satisfy the boy.

"Perfect," he leans down and plants a kiss to the top of my head.

__________________________________________________________

I do another shot of firewhiskey with Marlene and it hits me instantly, putting me over the edge. Gryffindor won today against Hufflepuff, so everyone's celebrating in the Common Room. The girls and I decided earlier today to dress for the occasion. I bought a new red leather skirt over the summer when Marlene came to visit me. I've yet to wear it and Marlene insisted I pair it with her yellow Gryffindor t-shirt she cut to a crop top.

James bloody brilliant on the field today. Then, Sirius kept making me laugh through the whole game, making sly comments the entire time. I thought Remus was going to bonk him on the head by the end.

Marlene tugs on my sleeve. "Let's dance!"

"And where shall we dance?" I stumble slightly, in my defense the room is a little spinny.

Marlene twirls her head, searching for a proper place.

"The study table!" I announce, right as the idea pops into my head.

"Excellent!" Marlene clasps her hands together and starts dragging me through the packed space.

She weaves between bodies, warning people to move. I laugh, she is by far the most wild girl I have ever had the pleasure of befriending.

"Oh well hello there!"

Someone new grabs my wrist that's free from Marlene and I'm yanked away from her. I land into someone's chest and I'm met with a familiar pair of glasses. He brings his hands around my waist, gliding over my exposed skin between the hem of my skirt and crop top.

"Hello to you too, Potter," I greet, draping my arms over his shoulders.

"And where have you been?" He purrs, leaning in to kiss me I suspect. 

Marlene pops up next to us. "Doing shots with me! Now, if you don't mind-" she takes my arm again "-Y/N here promised me we'd dance!"

"By all means," James hands me over. "I'll find you later," he assures me.

I offer him a wink right as Marlene tugs me away. She locks arms with me as she escorts me over to the table.

"Potter is mushy-gushy into you!" She shouts in my ear over the music.

"He's just a flirt!" I dismiss, not giving it a second thought.

"You're blind!" She teases.

Once we reach the table, I grab a chair and lead to climb onto the top. Heads around us start to turn and people start clapping.

Marlene shifts on her feet, swaying slightly as points to Mary who's in charge of the music across the room. "Mary! You better play Bowie right or I swear I'll make your skin blue for a week!"

Sweet, quiet, friendly Mary raises her hands in surrender and goes to put on Marlene's Bowie record that's always by the player. Marlene jumps up and down, getting herself energized as if she's about to perform at Wembley. The familiar sound of the album Marlene had me listen to the other night starts to echo through the Common Room.

"Yes! I love this song!" Marlene takes my hands and starts dancing with me.

We sway to the music and jump about the beat. I can't help but laugh at Marlene drunken dancing, it's just a mess. She raises our hands and waves for me to spin. My eyes fall shut as I twirl about the table top. I return the favor and she spins, nearly falling over. We burst out laughing, goodness this is just awful!

She pulls me closer to shout in my ear, "Potter can't take his eyes off you!"

I search the crowd of students decked out in their gold and red. Sure enough, I spot James leaning against the back of the couch speaking with Remus. He meets my gaze, a smile on his face as he mutter something to his friend.

"He's probably just wondering what the hell our dancing is!" I laugh.

"Then show him what you can really do," she urges with a mischievous grin.

I roll eyes and nudge her playfully, "no way!"

"Oh stop it! You know you can, I know you can, so do it," she encourages.

Marlene already starts climbing down from the table before I can argue otherwise. I glance around the room nervously for a second. Now standing at my feet, she waves for me to go on. A familiar rock song starts playing and I grin, I can work with this. Swaying my hips to the beat, I get in the groove of things. Marlene starts cheering and heads start turning. More cheering ensues as people start realizing what's going on. The attention encourages me to go on, I thrive off of it. If it weren't for the firewhiskey, I would never have the guts to do this. I slowly lower myself into a squat and roll back up flirtatiously, that earns a round of applause and cheering. I shake my bum playfully and send the crowd a wink.

A hand around my wrist yanks me down and Sirius stares at me furiously. He pulls me toward him and I'm flung over his shoulder. His arms keep me balanced as I hang upside toward his back. I swing as he marches through the crowd of riled Gryffindors toward the entry way.

"Sirius! Sirius let me down!" I swat at the back of his legs.

The raven-haired boy ignores my refusal and carries me out into the abandoned stairwell.

The Fat Lady gasps. "What on Earth are you doing boy?"

He ignores her as well, marching down the stairs to who knows where.

"Okay Sirius, I'm a grown person I can walk!" I whine.

"Then stop acting like a child," he snaps back.

"Me! You're the one who's been pouting around like a baby the past week!"

Despite my insult, he just keeps going like a bloody robot, march, march, march away! I press on his back to sit up right and peer over his shoulder to see where we're going.

“You can’t just carry people like a sack of flour!” I growl.

“You can when they’re acting insane!” He yells

I smack his back. “I’m not crazy! Take that back!”

His head whips around and he glares down at me. “No, you’re just an indecisive tease who doesn’t know what she wants!”

“Me the tease?!" I laugh. "You’re the biggest man whore whoever walked these halls!”

Abruptly, Sirius makes a sharp right into an alcove with a crumbled old stairwell and greenery growing in its cracks. He sets me down on my feet with a thud. I stumble for a second, but catch my footing.

“At least when I pick a girl I’m with only her! You’re switching back and forth between me and James like you’re the quaffle in a quidditch match! Pick a team Y/N!” He fires at me.

My head shifts forward in disgust. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

He scoffs, glaring up at me as though I'm lying. "Just quit it, you know exactly what it means!"

I shake my head, dismissing his digs. "You're drunk," I reason in a hiss.

He narrows his eyes at me sharply. "What if I am? So are you, Love, but I'm not the one making a fool of myself."

"I'm making a fool of myself, so what?! I don't care anymore!" I scream at him. “Why do you care?!”

His eyes grow wide. “Are you fucking serious?!” He laughs breathlessly.

“No, you-”

In a swift motion, Sirius pins me against the wall and presses his finger to my lips. “Don’t you dare bloody say it!”

I swallow my tongue, remaining still as Sirius keeps me pinned hard against the wall. His torso presses into me and he keeps his finger over my lips. The silence is consumed by nothing else than Sirius and I catching our breath quietly. I bury my eyes into his with a deep agitation. He's the most aggravating boy I've ever met in my entire life. His sharp stare could cut me clean if I weren't immune to it. Then, to my surprise, his face softens and his hand glides to my cheek. My heart starts to race, it was before, but this time it's more life an adrenaline rush.

"Did you mean it?" He whispers.

I swallow hard, "mean what?"

"When... when you said you love most days?" He stammers nervously.

Oh. I said that randomly, without much thought. I mean, we were kidding around. We was flirting so I tossed it right back to him, it’s what we do. I didn't think... I didn't know that he would...

"I mean if you didn't-" he rushes out, avoiding my gaze, "-it's fine! I'd understand, I was-"

As he stumbles over his words uncharacteristically and I see his nervousness consume him, it hits me like a ton of brick. I did mean it, every word. 

"Yes," I answer in a mutter, afraid my voice will give out on me.

His eyes meet mine frantically. "Wait what?!"

"Yes," I repeat, licking my lips anxiously. "I meant it..."

I feel as though my heart is in my throat and I find it hard to breathe. My eyes fall to Sirius's parted lips. I'm not familiar with this feeling, this urge. My eyes flicker up to meet his as his thumb brushes across my cheek. His dark alluring gaze pours into me like a starless night sky. Then, they glance down at my lips and Sirius shifts closer to me, if that's even physically possible. He leans in and hesitantly hovers mere centimeters from me. Acting on impulse, I finish the distance and press my lips to his. The sensation is unparalleled in this world. Sirius holds both sides of my face, deepening the kiss. I drape my arms over his shoulders and comb my fingers through his shoulder length locks. It feel so right and natural, as if we've been doing it our whole life. They just... Sirius and I fit together. He's like a guiding star in a world of darkness and I cling to him for life.

______________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @hannah220506 @agirlwholovescoffee @a-classic-eye @devilstradegy @blackbirddaredevil23 @tay-mariee @blackpinkdolan @findzelda

[drxwsyni]

Prey ︱ Yandere Keigo Takami x f!Reader

@theladyshinigami asked: “Hello! First of all, I've been looking for an account like yours for a long ass time, so thank you for existing. Second, may I request a yandere Hawks pinning for a foreigner with a siren quirk that can hypnotize people when she sings? Thanks again”

a/n: thanks for the request babes! hope you like how this turned out!

warnings: swearing, drugging, mild violence, mention of mutilation

2.9k words

It had been no surprise when the people around you deemed your future to be damned after hearing about your quirk.

Like the mythical siren, you could hypnotize people just by singing to them. It put them under a trance, allowing you to do whatever you saw fit with their mindless bodies. As much as you knew it would be more honourable to take the high road and contain your abilities, the potential it held was too great to pass up.

Now, you weren’t a ruthless killer or anything of the sort. No—you simply used your abilities every so often on the unsuspecting lowlife who probably deserved a little bad luck. Almost like a vigilante of sorts.

For the longest time your actions went unnoticed. You were smart—never staying in one place for too long. The fruits of your labor even brought you to different countries.

But good things could only last for so long, and much to your dismay—a certain avian hero picked up on your actions.

In any other case, this would’ve meant the end of your less than honourable career. But instead, the man you came to know as Hawks chose to turn a blind eye to your antics. You should be grateful—your slip up didn’t end with you in prison.

But the reality you faced now was by no means preferable.

Since being initially caught in the act, you could feel an almost constant looming presence above you. Distant, but there nonetheless. You never actually saw anything that would hint at a shadow, but the blanketed weight of instinct was undeniable. Most notably so was when you were forced to lure in unsuspecting criminals to make ends meet.

A once simple and painless task was now something you dreaded.

The crimson vale of feathers would flash before you, their owner taking a stance when you had the job done. By then you’d swiped any necessary valuables from your latest victim—but that never seemed to bother him. Like the visible vacantness of any belongings from them wasn’t a problem whatsoever, the winged hero would tie up your loose ends. Even said you were helping him out, despite your assistance not exactly being legal.

It lasted like that for a long time. Slowly, you grew to hate the means in which you kept yourself on your feet. Not because your sense of morals were shifting to hold concern for those unfortunate enough to be caught in your sights. Rather, it was because of the sights you were caught in.

Those narrowed and piercing—searching eyes always found you in your worst times. And his attitude, it was enough to give you an aneurism. So nonchalant with his dismissal of your behaviour, such a thing that goes against everything he stands for.

But perhaps, this should’ve been the first red flag that showed you he wasn’t the hero everyone knew him to be—something you were supposed to pick up on and use it to your advantage.

You didn’t have time for that though. It was more important to simply erase his taunting words and carelessly intrusive behaviour from your mind for the sake of your sanity. That, and you were much more concerned with making your next move—one that’d hopefully lead you out of the country.

Or at least far enough away from Hawks.

The back and forth to the pawn shop wasn’t the most enjoyable outing, but it was necessary. You could sense that the owners were at least a little suspicious of how much you frequented their establishment—especially given the items you’d exchanged.

Thankfully, the shop was on the bad side of town, meaning they were quite used to people like yourself. Slowly but surely, the stash you kept hidden in a floor vent in your shambly apartment grew steadily. It wasn’t much at first, but as of late you were making a point to be increasingly active with your efforts.

Everything finally came down to one night—you being immensely grateful to your recent catch. The old man was practically dripping with sin, along with undeserved riches to boot. You’d followed him from the luxurious nightclub, where you knew some less than honourable individuals did depraved things to the vulnerable.

It was just your luck—the man was mind numbingly drunk, stumbling back and forth on his feet in an attempt at a walk in a straight line.

While your quirk wouldn’t get rid of his uneasiness, it would give him more motivation to make his way towards a certain direction. One that led him right into your hands, along with his overpriced belongings.

The deed was done in less than a minute—speed being essential in not getting caught. But you weren’t the only one who held that strength to a high standard. Just as you were pocketing the last of his trinkets, you glanced upwards towards the pitch black night sky. Your eyes focused on the abyssal expanse for a few seconds—now was about the time you’d expect the crimson of his wings to grace your presence. It’d be followed by his unbearably confident remarks, and the frustrating way he’d disregard you as a threat.

But the last minute arrival never came. For the first time since you met him, Hawks didn’t show up to court off your latest prey to the police. Frankly, you didn’t mind it.

The man would never know it was you anyways, you being safe enough to keep your face hidden from prying eyes. It just meant you could return home, one very successful haul in tow with complete peace befalling your mind. No dealing with Hawks’ irritating antics—just a quiet walk back all by yourself.

Naturally, the night’s events had you in high spirits. If your calculations were correct, this would be just enough for your stash to equal out to an amount sufficient enough to get you moving again.

The thought brought a smile to your face, and with a spring in your step you trailed back to the cheap and small apartment complex you called your temporary home.

Every time you opened the front door you cringed at the sound of rusty metal rubbing together on the hinges. Now was no different as you shut the rickety frame back into its closed position, sliding the lock into place.

Removing your shoes with a sigh, you trudged to the back of the apartment where your bedroom was stationed. A cold breeze washed over you as you pushed the slightly ajar door open fully. The window was open, causing the curtains to sway under the wind's influence. Shivering slightly at the sensation, you threw your bag onto the bed and made your way to the worn down looking window.

The lock never worked on the damn thing, so there was never a need to care about if it was closed or not. But on a chilly night like tonight, you mentally cursed yourself for not taking more care in regarding it before you left. It got hot in the daytime, often resulting in it being left open for the most part. It’s only expected that every now and then you’d leave the damned thing like that, now mentally cursing yourself for doing so as the room’s temperature was unpleasantly low, shutting it with a thud.

You moved back towards your bed, unzipping your backpack and emptying the contents atop the duvet. Sorting things was always the most interesting part of your night—seeing just what people were willing to spend their money on. You picked up the wad of cash first, being decent enough not to just take his whole wallet. After thumbing through the stack, you took a bobby pin laying on your nightstand and clipped it over the papers, holding them all together.

In your early days of using your quirk to your advantage, you made the mistake of keeping all of your findings in one place. Call it karma, but at one point you were the one being robbed, both cash and other luxurious items going missing.

Now, you were smarter than that. Learning from your mistakes, you kept the two piles separate. At the moment, all cash was hidden in the floor vent.

Getting on your knees in front of the grating, you lifted the top off, letting the light from the room’s lamp flood into the small space.

The cash was gone.

Your hand dived into the metal-lined crevice, sweeping back and forth frantically. There was no way it could’ve fallen back further into the vent. The heating didn’t push that way, and even if it did you always kept the cash bundled—it was too heavy to be blown away out of arm's reach.

Your heart sunk into your chest, a gut wrenching despair taking hold of you.

“Looking for something?”

That voice—you knew who it belonged to before your head whipped around to face the direction it came from. Standing in the doorway to the bedroom, wings outstretched almost threateningly was the avian hero you’d come to hate.

And god, that smirk plastered across his face. He always wore it, like the damn thing was a permanent expression solidified into his being.

You stilled your actions, eyes unmoving from him. “Where’s my cash?” In a way, you could almost take pride in how you managed to keep a calm and steady voice. The rage was still there, but it was contained—for now.

Hawks moved past the doorway, casually stepping towards the closest nightstand. Like he hadn’t even heard you question, he idly picked up a framed photo—the only one you had of your home town that was thousands of miles away. You’d taken the shot at sundown, showcasing all its best features in the honeyed lighting cascading over it.

“Y’know, it’s almost impressive—the money you rake in.” He was still looking at the photo, eyes searching the minuscule details your camera picked up—one that you had to sell for some extra cash in the early days.

He set the frame down, smirk falling ever so slightly. It was the first time he looked even remotely serious—the casual leaned back stance doing nothing when you saw the dangerous glint in his eyes. “I simply...took it upon myself to donate the cash to a better cause.”

Your blood ran cold, the constricting feeling in your chest tightening at his words. For a moment you couldn’t respond, too mortified by his statement. The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, until forcing yourself out of a stupor, you responded. “...You did what?”

In the most condescending tone of voice you’d ever heard, the winged man replied. “Hey, don’t look so surprised. I mean what were you even gonna do with it anyways?”

Still kneeling on the floor, you felt pure, seething hatred for the hero in front of you. “What was I—I was going to use it to get away from your deranged ass!”

The sound of your raised and angered voice reverberated off the walls, him paying no mind to it. “Oh, were you now?”

Almost in a lazy manner, Hawks pushed off the nightstand he was leaning on. “C’mon, you didn’t really think I’d let you get away with robbing people.” The sound of his boots hitting the floor seemed louder than they should’ve as he stalked towards your frozen form. “I mean that would be so...unheroic of me, after all.”

Even in the dim lighting of the room, his eyes were almost inhumanely bright as he looked at you like you were a piece of fresh meat.

You should’ve known this would happen. All this time spent putting together enough cash just to get yourself out of this city and far away from the man looming over you—none of it really mattering in then end.

Not if you couldn’t get out of here.

The stash of money might be gone, but you still had the belongings on your bed. They would go for a good price, and if you played your cards right it’d be enough to get you far enough away from him. It would be tight—but it’s possible.

As far as you were concerned, Hawks was no more virtuous than the lowly individuals you entranced with your quirk. It may have taken this moment to solidify it, but now you knew who he was.

Not a hero, just a man pretending to be one for his own gains.

You opened your mouth, prepared to voice whatever melody came to mind. The feeling of a hand clamping over it came before you could manage a noise, and then your back colliding with the cold hardwood.

The feeling of Hawk’s weight on your body felt crushing, rendering you completely immobilized underneath him. He had you hands pinned above your head with his free one in an almost bruising grip, you unable to move away as he sat on your hips.

“Ah ah ah—little bird.” He grunted through the words, still steady as you made some final weak attempts to throw him off before resigning to your predicament for the moment.

Hawks let a few seconds go by after you stilled, eyeing you warily in a way that you could only assume was to make sure you were fully calmed down. He let out a breathy sigh, “So, here’s how this is gonna work…”

He paused, lips upturning ever so slightly before continuing. “I’m gonna take my hand off, and if I hear so much as a peep from you, I’ll rip your fucking vocal cords out. Got it?” The casual look to his face gave a stark and disturbing contrast to his gruesome words.

You swallowed dryly, tears prickling in your eyes. He knew how much weight those words held—your quirk riding on the fact that your means of speaking were intact.

The winged man tilted his head slightly, a look of what felt like fake concern flashing across his face. “Hey, don’t go looking so scared. I don’t wanna do that, I promise.”

His words did little to ease your worries—the promise meaning absolutely nothing to you.

“Now, if you behave then maybe I’ll consider keeping you awake on the way home, okay?”

On the way home—what the fuck is he talking about?

A crease formed between your brows in confusion, mind racing from unknown sentiment. One might think you’d been running for miles with the way your heart beat was hammering inside your ribcage. But it would turn out that fear was much better at producing the same effect.

If you could manage even a second to use your quirk, he’d be done for. You shakily nodded your head, the grip on your face making the action somewhat difficult.

Hawks seemed pleased with your forced compliance, smirk widening in satisfaction.

“There’s my good little bird, now—”

His hand lifted from your mouth, and without hesitation you activated your quirk.

Or at least you tried.

You should’ve known, the man pinning you to the ground was notorious for being incredulously fast. So much so that you didn’t even see him move, only registering the feeling of a cloth sealing over your mouth and nose.

That smell—sickeningly sweet. Your eyes blew wide at the realization, body thrashing beneath him. Looking at him pleadingly didn’t work, especially when the tears running down your face blurred your vision. In the midst of you violently kicking and attempting to throw him off you, Hawks effortlessly dealt with the consequences to your actions.

“Don’t be like that, I tried—”

Even in your weakening state, you managed to knee him hard. But it was no more in force than a kitten scratch. It may have taken him off guard, even interrupting his train of thought, but he was still the one on top.

You knew you would have bruises later on, but that was the least of your worries right now.

“I tried to warn you, and it’s only fair that I hold up my end of the deal.”

The strenuous efforts of your resistance had you sucking in involuntary gulps of breath in exhaustion. You could feel your mind spinning, not being able to focus on any one thing in particular. It was a lightheaded sensation, you not even realizing that your limbs fell almost completely limp in his hold.

Your focus drifted away from the avian human above you, landing on the once opened bedroom window. Your eyelids felt increasingly heavy, once loudly muffled screams turning into defeated whimpers—and then silence.

Hawks released his iron hold on your wrists, leaning back with a deep and relieved sigh. The cloth was shoved back into his pocket, and he mentally thanked himself for bringing his car so he wouldn’t have to fly you back to his apartment for everyone to see.

It wasn’t the first time he regarded your sleeping form, face peaceful and distinctively not contorted with fear—and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He’d known your caution well, seeing it in action the countless times he’d pry his eyes into your life. Whether it be from above on those late nights of you scrounging for cash, or through your window as you sifted through the stockpile of valuable collections. Always thinking that your efforts of evasion were enough.

Surely, after going so long with the same routine—laying low and moving against those who had bad luck coming when the opportunity arose—this new stop in your travels would show no need for change. Even when he made his presence obvious, you stayed set in your ways.

You didn’t deem him a threat. You thought that you were the apex predator, and he was nothing more than a scavenger reaping the rewards of your latest catch.

And now, he would teach you that no—he was the predator, and you were the prey.

[o-w-quinlan]

Digimon Adventure: (2020) Final Thoughts

Considering I stopped reviewing this series episode by episode months ago, they’re more positive thoughts than you’d expect, though still not all that positive.

To summarize, this is an entertaining series with plenty of individual good aspects and great episodes that nevertheless leaves me cold as a whole. Much as I enjoyed following it week to week, I can’t say I recommend this series to anyone but hardcore Digimon fans, or hardcore fans of the wider “monster” genre.

Action

It felt appropriate to start with this, considering a focus on action was what the initial interviews promised, and they delivered in spades. It wasn’t perfect or too consistent, there were several times when the Digimon not evolving when they could just broke any tension the fights had, but this series had some of the best fights in any Digimon anime. Anything in the first 3 episodes, Greymon/MetalGreymon vs MetalTyranomon, SkullKnightmon vs Greymon and Garurumon, Mugendramon vs DoneDevimon, Mugendramon vs WarGreymon, Millenniumon vs the dragons, Omegamon vs Abbadomon Core… all of them among the best things the franchise has to offer in terms of action scenes, which after so many series where fights were solved by having a protagonist Digimon evolve and one-shotting the enemy, comes as a breath of fresh air (to be fair, this series also had a lot of that, but it had actual great fights to compensate).

Worldbuilding

Another thing promised in interviews was the use of Digimon from all over the franchise, and not only did they deliver, but they also included plenty of references to the “null canon” to enrich the experience for the most hardcore fans. The series made sure to constantly emphasize the savage nature of the Digital World, bringing back the Tamers worldbuilding of Digimon consuming weaker Digimon in hopes of achieving evolution. Along the way we saw a lot of allies fighting back against this status-quo, from things as overt as Leomon organizing a resistance or Petaldramon protecting weaker Digimon from the all-consuming Entmon, to less dramatic stuff like weak Digimon settling down to live together, or the mere presence of a restaurant where everyone can rest for a while of the hardships of their world.

The biggest flaw here was in how the series handled its antagonists. With very few exceptions, every single enemy Digimon in the series lacked dialog, whereas nearly every single ally Digimon could speak normally, and this disparity cheapened the whole thing, because instead of coming across as “this mentality is normal for this world”, it came across as just your normal “everyone lived together in harmony until the villains attacked”, which is very much not what the series was telling us.

Characterization

That brings us to the next point: the lack of personality for most villains. I joked elsewhere that Minotaurmon from episode 19 was the most compelling villain of the series, and that’s not completely a joke. Almost every single villain of the week was flat, plenty of the “main” villains were lacking in dialog (Algomon in the first few episodes, Nidhoggmon, Millenniumon) or turned mindless halfway through (Devimon, DarkKnightmon). Negamon/Abbadomon in the final episodes managed to benefit from this by being the embodiment of an “instinct”, but in general this meant a mook-of-the-week like Minotaurmon managed to be a highlight among the villains simply by having dialog and non-trivial desires.

But what of the protagonists? The popular opinion is that everyone is far blander than they were in the original series, and I agree. But rather than comparing it with the first series, let’s look at what it had to offer to us. Where in other Digimon series, the backstories and issues of the protagonists and their reactions to what’s going on around them make for most of the drama, in this series the drama comes from the villains trying to destroy everything, and for the most part that means the protagonists only need to be distinct and charming on their own, no necessity to create conflict between them. There is an overall character arc for all of them, though: accepting and interiorizing their new duties towards the world they had ended up stranded on, getting to know and love the Digital World. Was this well done? Not really.

Taichi and Takeru, for example, were so much the embodiment of the stock shonen hero that accepting their place in this new world didn’t really reveal anything about them we hadn’t already seen from their first few appearances.

Jou got stuck as an unfunny punchline 90% of the time, to the point of damaging his few “serious” moments in some of his focus episodes. His development of becoming assertive was compelling in theory, but it got muddled with so many unfunny and uncomfortable hotsprings jokes that the impact was lost.

Hikari started as an even more blatant plot-device “mysterious character” than she was in the original series, before unconvincingly changing to cheerful little girl afterwards (the whiplash between her in episode 33 and her in episode 34 was something else), and only really managing to settle into a compelling character in her last focus episode (58, defending the Digitamas from the Bakemon and SkullBaluchimon, which to be fair is a great episode and probably the best showcase for Hikari as a character in any product or continuity).

Koushiro was mostly fine, although we all remember the several times the series seemed to promise it might do something with him (his uneasiness when his family was mentioned, or that line about having to “face the darkness of his past” in the HerakleKabuterimon episode) that ended up being nothing.

Mimi is the fan-favorite, being charming in nearly all her appearances and having some of the best focus episodes, and it’s mostly deserved. If there’s anything I criticize from her, it’s that her focus episodes don’t really add up to anything.

Yamato was fine, started out as a stock shonen rival before becoming the single most chill “lone wolf” in any Digimon series, probably because of what I said before of the conflict between the protagonists no longer being the source of drama. He gets a slow development of caring only for his brother to starting to care for other Digimon for the sake of Sora and Gabumon to caring about the Digital World just as much as everyone else.

Sora was made fun of by a certain section of the fandom for having the worst focus episodes early on, and I agreed, but having finished the series I can’t get rid of the impression that her focus episodes, while perhaps not that good on their own, when taken as a whole explore her character the best of any other. Yeah, this mostly means exploring her compassion (these are not very multi-dimensional characters), but they deepen and deepen both her impact on the Digimon she saves and how she is impacted in turn by them, moving her away from saving others through her combat prowess to saving others by empathizing with the grief of another caring soul, and by the end I honestly ended up considering her my favorite character (despite none of her episodes making it to my list of favorites).

As for the Digimon… it’s following in the footsteps of other Digimon Adventure products by not really having much of interest for the Digimon themselves except for Tailmon.

Overall, for the most part the main characters were decent, but besides Mimi and ultimately also Sora, I don’t think they’re very memorable. All of them start out promising, but never really improved from that promising start (again, except for Sora).

Pacing

And now we get to the biggest problem of the series: Pacing. I’ve seen it stated elsewhere that this series was more episodic than most (any?) other Digimon series before it, and part of the backlash it got was from not being as serialized as fans expected it to be. This isn’t exactly true. From episode 16 (Eyesmon) to episode 24 (DoneDevimon), this series was as serialized as any other Digimon series has ever been, with nonstop escalation that demanded you keep watching it week after week. Then, from 25 to 35 (Angewomon) or 36 (BlitzGreymon), it pulled slightly back from that never-ending escalation, but was still pretty serialized. It was only afterwards that it became heavily episodic, and by that point it wasn’t expectations set up by previous series that hurt it in the eyes of the fandom, it was expectations set by this series itself in its first half.

Not that the episodes themselves were bad. Honestly, I found myself significantly more entertained by the episodic later half of the series than the serialized first half. Maybe it was because they didn’t feel the need to convince me they were the most exciting, tense thing I had ever seen when they were clearly not (hello, Mamemon episode), or maybe it was that there were more than just endless fights to them, but I normally ended up those episodes entertained and satisfied, whereas with a lot of episodes from Eyesmon to BlitzGreymon, I mostly just felt frustrated after watching them. I agree with the criticism that, when seen as a whole, breaking momentum so hard for so long after months of never-ending escalation wasn’t the right choice, but when seen week after week, I can’t see this change of approach as that bad of a thing.

Conclusion

I think that sums up the series for me. On a weekly basis, it’s pretty entertaining. It’s when seen as a whole that the problems really become clear. There’s been some speculation in the past few weeks of how much the current situation in the world might have impacted the series, but ultimately, I have to judge what actually happened, and I can’t help the impression that this series ultimately left me with nothing of substance after it was all said and done. Like, I enjoyed this more than, say, Appli Monsters, but Appli Monsters have things that stick with you after it’s over. Not so much here, unless you’re a hardcore fan that loves the Omegamon lore this added (which I am, btw; love that Omegamon lore). I don’t think I can recommend this series to anyone who isn’t a hardcore Digimon fan, or at least a hardcore fan of the wider “monster” genre.

One thing I’m grateful to this series for, though, it’s the commercial boost it has given the rest of the franchise. I’m not going to credit it for all the successes it currently has, after all the Card Game would have fell off by now if it wasn’t genuinely well-done and the Vital Bracelet happened because of years of the virtual pet division progressively building up its audience after it had nearly died off, but it’s undeniable they wouldn’t have sold as well without this anime advertising the franchise week after week. Next week, we’ll have the first episode of Digimon Ghost Game, the first time since 2001 that we have a Digimon series being immediately succeeded by another. If that isn’t a sign of how well the franchise is doing right now, I don’t know what is.

Favorite Episodes: 1 (Tokyo Digital Crisis), 6 (The Targeted Kingdom), 12 (Lilimon Blooms), 20 (The Seventh One Awakens), 32 (Soaring Hope), 42 (King of Inventors, Gerbemon), 49 (The God of Evil Descends, Millenniummon), 56 (The Gold Wolf of the Crescent Moon), 58 (Hikari, New Life)

[thewickedkings]

Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 6

Masterlist || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Summary: Jurdan High school AU. Rivals Jude and Cardan are forced to partner up for a history project, and drama ensues. Filled with banter, pranks, an unhealthy amount of pining, and Jude being clueless as usual.

Trigger Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything so far, but please let me know if there’s anything I missed!

~~~

Jude blinked. And then blinked again. But Cardan was still standing at her door, holding a bouquet of red roses, very much real. Under her confusion, a distant part of her felt a surprising flutter of warmth.

She opened the door hesitantly and was greeted with Cardan’s scowl. He was dressed in jeans and a simple white T-shirt that somehow made his already attractive features stand out even more. His sharp black hair fell over his forehead in tantalizing waves. With the roses in hand, he looked like a heartbreak waiting to happen.

Jude opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, but he interrupted.

“Don’t worry. They’re not from me.” He shoved them in her arms like they had burned him. Clearly, the idea of giving her flowers completely repulsed him.

“I- okay. Hi to you too.” She stepped back to let him in, and his jaw ticked. “Someone clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

He stepped in and Jude shut the door behind them. When she turned back to Cardan, she found him looking at her expectantly. She ignored him and walked to the kitchen, resisting the urge to check the note attached, even though she had a feeling she knew who they were from.

“Want anything to drink?”

“No,” he replied bluntly.

Jude pursed her lips. “Okay then.” Clearly, he wasn’t in a cooperative mood. She sighed. “So, I figured we could compare our research to see what-”

“Are you going to put those in a vase?” Cardan interrupted.

She glared at him. “Are you going to be like this the whole time?” But she stood up and went to the pantry to get a vase.

She felt Cardan’s gaze on the side of her face as she filled the vase up with water and put it on the counter, but he didn’t speak. The only sound was the steady drip of the faucet into the sink. She picked up the bouquet, inhaling the fragrant scent of the roses. Before she put them into the vase, she untied the note and read it.

For Jude. Yesterday was fun. We should do it again.

She bit her lip to stop the giddy smile that threatened to break free. Nobody had ever bought her flowers before.

Cardan cleared his throat, irritation edging his voice. “Are we going to do this or not?”

“You’re the one who asked me to put these in a vase,” she mumbled. She flopped onto the bar stool next to him, annoyed.

She opened her laptop, clicking through to open her research. “Like I was saying before you interrupted me, we should compare our research and see what we’ve got.”

“Right, okay.” He ran his hand over jaw, easing the tension in it. “By the way, they’re going to display the best project on the school website, so we might have to up our game.”

Jude’s head swiveled back to Cardan. “What? Since when? Why didn’t you tell me right when you got here?”

“I was a bit preoccupied.”

Jude narrowed her eyes. “Wait, how do you know?”

He smirked, some of his earlier mood dissipating. “I have my sources.”

“I don’t trust your sources,” Jude shot back.

Cardan leaned back, arms stretching behind his head. “Fine then. Don’t believe me. When Taryn and Locke have their project on the website, don’t come crying to me.”

Jude paused momentarily. She’d forgotten Taryn and Locke were partners. Something niggled in the back of her mind, a thought that wasn’t fully formed. “You think they’d actually win?”

“Locke will try if he knows I… if he knows we want to win.”

After the date, Jude had conveniently forgotten that Locke and Cardan knew each other. She felt the strange compulsion to keep them separate in her mind. “Okay, so say this is actually true.”

Cardan scoffed. “If you really must know, I heard my father talking about it. He’s on the board, and it’s one of the publicity tactics or something to make the school look better. They need to show off for the donors.”

Jude looked up, surprised. “Oh, okay. I didn’t know your father was on the board.”

Cardan shrugged and redirected the conversation. “If we want to win, we better start working.”

“Don’t worry. We’re winning this.”

“I’m not worried.” The quick, playful grin he sent her startled her, and Jude wondered what they could do if they actually worked on the same side for once.

Jude paused.  “Wait, why do you want to win so badly?”

Before he could answer, the garage door opened, and Madoc entered. Jude stiffened in surprise, not expecting her father to be here while her and Cardan were home. She felt weird introducing them, and she didn’t want her father making any assumptions about the two of them like he did with any guy Jude mentioned.

Jude cleared her throat. “Um, Father, this is Cardan.”

Cardan stood up from the barstool, and Jude watched in awe as Cardan transformed into a gentleman, politely introducing himself and ending each sentence with sir.

“Ah, Eldred’s youngest son. You stay with Balekin now?”

Cardan’s smile wavered but remained intact. “Yes, sir.” She couldn’t help but notice the stiffness in his posture, a sort of rigid tension that Jude couldn’t quite place.

Madoc gave Jude a nod. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it.” He walked into his office and shut the door behind him.

An awkward silence descended over them, until Cardan broke it. “So… you call your dad… Father?”

She didn’t feel like explaining that he wasn’t actually her father, and that their real parents had died in a car crash, so she didn’t. “Yeah, well, dad always seemed too…” she trailed off, shrugging.

“Close?” Cardan supplied, and she nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

She resisted the temptation to ask him why, but it felt too personal, and it wasn’t like they were friends. Instead she shoved his shoulder. “What was that? I didn’t know you could be a gentleman? All yes, sirs, and of course sir.”

For a second, he blinked and Jude could have sworn she saw a blush on his neck. But then he leaned closer to her across the barstools, almost challenging. His eyes darted to her hand, which was still on his arm, before they flitted to the vase on the counter and then back up to her eyes.

“I can be a decent human sometimes.” He smirked, adding, “But certain people bring out the worst in me.”

Jude’s retort died on her tongue as he leaned further into her space. Cardan’s gaze probed into hers, searching, and her breath caught in her throat.

Heat rushed up her neck, her senses heightening in anticipation of…

A thud sounded from her father’s office, and Jude quickly pulled away, berating herself. What the hell was that?

Cardan swallowed and averted his gaze, his hand flexing. When he spoke, his voice was low. “You never came to any of my parties. There’s one on Saturday. You should come.”

Jude was too surprised by the sudden change in topic and the earnest tone in his voice, so she said, “Okay.”

The serious expression in his face disappeared immediately. He grinned down at her, wiggling his eyebrows. “Okay?”

Jude scowled. “I’ll be there. But only because I owe you.”

Cardan laughed, and any remaining tension dissipated. “Don’t worry. I’d never think otherwise.”

“Come on, let’s just finish this stupid project,” Jude grumbled, but felt the corners of her lips lifting up into a smile.

~~~

The next week was stressful, to say the least. By Wednesday, Jude was ready to pass out and call it a week. Her physics quiz that morning had been draining, and she had barely finished before the end of class. After that, she had a presentation in her literature class that she had just barely fumbled through.

Jude walked to her locker, rubbing her temples to sooth the dull ache growing there. She was surprised to see Locke waiting for her. The few times she had seen him in school over the past week were in passing smiles in the hallways. She hadn’t been sure if she should text him to thank him for the flowers or if she should approach him,

Now, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Jude winced, but quickly covered it with a smile. Her head throbbed, and she didn’t have the energy to sort out why she didn’t like his touch right now.

“Hey, you get my flowers?”

“Yeah, thanks. I loved them.”

Locke’s eyes flitted over her shoulder and then back to her. “No problem.” He leaned in, brushing a strand of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. “Can I walk you to class?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Locke wrapped his arm over her shoulder possessively, pulling her to him.

Jude was awkwardly conscious of his arm around her shoulder and the glances people gave them in the hall. Something about his actions felt unnatural, almost forced. Or maybe she was projecting her own feelings onto him. They’d only been on one date, and she didn’t feel fully comfortable with him yet.

When Jude got to her last period study hall, she quickly slid out from under his arm, mumbling a quick “thanks,” before entering her class.

Study hall was basically an hour to work on any of your assignments before school let out, and Jude spent the class with her headphones in, head resting against her arm. She knew she probably should get some assignments done, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

When the bell rang, Jude made her way to the gym next to the soccer field to get ready for practice. Her headache had thankfully subsided, and she threaded her way through the parking lot.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind her.

Jude was surprised to find Nicasia quickly walking to catch up with her. “Hi?”

Nicasia rolled her eyes. Her black hair was up in a messy bun, the ends died an ethereal blue. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and fell into step next to Jude. “I figured we could walk to practice together, since we do have the same class last period.”

Jude blinked. “Um, okay. You weren’t exactly being friendly when you ignored me on the field and tried to shoot an impossible goal instead of just passing.”

Nicasia shrugged. “I was just pissed because I heard Locke talking about you, and I probably shouldn’t have taken it out on the field.”

“Great apology.”

Nicasia rolled her eyes again. “Shut up.”

“So wait… you and Locke dated?” Last she knew, Nicasia and Cardan were together. She really needed to keep up with the school drama.

Nicasia nodded. Something in Jude’s face made her add, “Don’t worry. I ended things with him for a reason. It was great at first, until I realized he was just using me to get at Cardan.”

Jude paused, suddenly reevaluating everything she knew about Locke, and wondering why Locke would want to get at Cardan. Jude was instantly curious if it had worked.

Nicasia sighed and played with a loose strand of hair. “Look, I know this might make me seem like a jealous ex, but Locke… he likes drama. He likes to create drama. I saw him with you in the hallway today, and despite our differences, I don’t want you to get in caught in it.”

Jude didn’t know what to make of this information, but Nicasia seemed to be genuine. Something about her date with Locke had felt… a little too perfect. Then, she hadn’t thought it was a bad thing, but now she felt as though she had been played. “Thanks for the warning, I guess.”

Nicasia opened the door to the gym. “I wish someone had given me one, but I should have known better.” They both silently entered their separate changing rooms to put on their soccer gear.

Jude’s thoughts wandered as she slipped out of her jeans and into her soccer shorts. Even though she did enjoy their date, she realized she didn’t really know Locke. What Nicasia said about Locke could be true, and if it was, Jude absolutely did not want to take things further with him.

Jude found she wasn’t as disappointed as she should be at the thought. Besides flirting with each other, they didn’t really have anything in common that connected them. If she really thought about it, she knew whatever was between them wasn’t going to last, and that it mainly for fun. Yes, the first date went pretty well and she loved the attention, but what about after? She wasn’t very good at relationships in general, and she was bound to do something wrong.

When Jude came out, she silently sat next to Nicasia on the bench next to the lockers. Jude leaned down to slide her foot into her cleats, and her foot came in contact with a warm goeey substance. She yelped, pulling her foot out of her shoe.

“What?” Nicasia asked. She snorted when she saw the green sludge on Jude’s sock. “Oh.”

Jude groaned. “Ugh, Cardan. I knew he was planning something.”

Nicasia gave her a long look, tying her hair back into a ponytail, and then getting up and getting her napkins. “You two are still doing this?”

Jude wondered just how much Nicasia knew about their prank war as she cleaned out the inside of her shoe as much as she could. Despite her best efforts, some of the sludge remained stuck to the bottom. “I mean, if one of us stops, it means the other person wins. And I can’t let him win.”

“You’re both idiots.”

Jude laughed, shrugging. “As long as I beat him, I don’t care.”

Nicasia stood up, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder. “When you two finally get together, I’m going to throw a party.”

Jude sputtered. “What? We’re not- he doesn’t- what?”

“Uh huh, right.” Nicasia smirked as she walked to the door. “See you on the field.”

Jude scowled as Nicasia shut the door of the gym behind her, leaving Jude in silence. Why did Nicasia think her and Cardan would ever… get together? Jude shook her head, and opened her gym bag to find her headband. A piece of paper fluttered out, and Jude picked it up. There was no name on it, but once she read it, she knew exactly who it was from.

Have a “sensational” time at practice. See you on Saturday.

~~~

A/N: Hehehe sorry for getting your hopes up with the last chapter but this is going to be a slowwww burn. We did get to see jealous CardanTM though 😌

Sorry for the long wait! My school just started again this week and my attention span is exactly 0.02 seconds after quarantine lol. I’m so excited for the next chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments :)

Tagging: (Bolded tags didn’t work. I don’t know why, it might be your settings or just tumblr  acting up, but I’ll tag you in the comments for now! If I forgot to tag  you our messed something up, just send me an ask and I’ll fix it as soon  as I can!)

@jurdan7 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @amoosewithflannelforfur @aneuwin @mercrutiodidntdieforthis @hizqueen4life @mi-mavencalories @simonelovesff @b00kworm @nope-has-lied @andromeddea @aesthetics-11 @queen-of-glass @runnybabbit9  @afexiss @the-keen-queen @yesimtheslytherinwitch @fizziefaerie @abigneignenn @storiesandschemes  @aelin-queen-of-terrasen@words-of-the-wise @thedazzlingheights @magicalbookwyvern @kittkatandbooboo @queen-of-no1 @iminsanenotobsessed @dorkzrul @snusbandxknifewife  @aknymph @clouds-and-peonies @thefolkofthefic @snorting-up-pizza @fandomfanatic987 @fandom-will-be-the-death-of-me @cardanslittletail @curlyredqueen06 @losssssstttttt  @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln@omfglucayababies @judiecardan @woodsbeyond1 @yourroyalbooknerd @ireallyshouldsleeprn @st00pid231 @alittledribbledrabble @nomotivation-lads @herladyshipxx  @judiecardan

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 02 | Crosstalk | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst [later on], humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 10.2K

Last time on SR01: Namjoon introduced you to his friends and you find yourself absorbed into their little group rather quickly. While on your way to a Halloween party hosted at Jimin’s beautiful condo, you admit to your best friend Jennie that you have a crush on the sweet, shy, nerdy Jungkook. This just happens to be the same night he reveals his true nature: fuckboy. Now that’s just embarrassing, isn’t it?

Tags: Fuckboy Jungkook, let’s play some drinking games, dirty jokes, innuendos, friendship feels, jealousy, flashing, sexual tension, dumbBitch reader is drinking her dumbBitchjuice tonight, Tae makes things weird for half a sec, hint of foot fetish?, flirting with Hobi, flirting with Jin, embarrassedJoon who is also a mediator part time, tsundere softYoongi, Jimin is a traitorous snake who lives for the drama, Jungkook is like the kid pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes, tiniest glimpse at softboyeJK underneath

CW:  excessive drinking,  filthy language

Series: Activate your SIMCard Fic: Swipe Right (2/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost. masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It's been months since the fiasco with Jungkook. You do your best to avoid any opportunity to hang with the group in a stationary setting when he’s present, but he’s kind of an unavoidable obstacle at this point. Pissed doesn’t begin to cover your feelings towards him and hurt doesn’t quite do it either. You’re angry about the things he did, the things he said, the way he covered up his true self, but most of all, you’re furious that your feelings didn’t just evaporate with the shift in his persona.

You thought time would heal everything, but so far it’s only turned you bitter about the whole thing. He still smells so fucking good. He’s still got a body like the weightlifting champ he is. He’s still dorky and funny in ways you wouldn’t expect a tool of his calibre to demonstrate. But he’s also a player and a crass asshole. A crasshole. Has he ever stayed with the same girl for more than a few days? You’d wager a confident sum of money that he never has.

Even though you hate his guts, your brain still finds ways to remind you that even if he’s a dick, he’s a dick you’re still attracted to. He’s the kind of dick you suck one night after getting drunk on cheap beer, and in the light of day you are disgusted with everything about it. So don’t get drunk and don’t suck that dick. Easy peasy, especially since fury overtakes you any time you look at him.

Pissed at him? That doesn’t cover it. Pissed at yourself? That’s closer, but it's still not quite all-encompassing. It’s some sort of culmination between the two that has you absolutely livid with the entire situation any time you think about it. He made you feel like a fool. You genuinely liked the person you thought he was, and he embarrassed you. That made not talking to him the way you did when you thought he had the emotional capacity of an actual decent human being hurt even more. At least you know now that he’s got more in common with a lifeless, unfeeling rock.

Not that he hasn’t tried to get you to talk to him. He has, texting you jokes, sending articles on upcoming game titles, spamming invites to a party on xbox live any time you log on, making a point to stand next to you, interrupting all of your conversations with an obnoxious “Hi, Princess!” and pestering you until you acknowledge him. Thankfully Namjoon has kept him from sitting next to you when you carpool, whether it be for dancing, dinner, karaoke, or any other external hangouts. Nevertheless, he still finds a way to annoy you despite the barriers in his path, and you are ready to claw his eyes out at a moment’s notice.

To keep your mind off how your last crush, well, crushed you and continues to let you down, you’ve been downloading and trying out a few different dating apps. You figure it’s time to find someone to connect with, and this is definitely how people do it these days, but your experience has been less than stellar. Jennie helped you set up your profiles and mentioned it in passing to Namjoon, mistakenly believing you told your other bestie about it. He's been teasing you about it every week since, but has been sworn to silence around the others under fear of you telling everyone about the time you caught him making out with a couch pillow.

He doesn't crash on your couch anymore.

Ever since Hoseok and Yoongi moved into the apartment down the hall, he's spent more evenings on their comfy sectional than you can count, but always after binging Kung Fu movies and bringing gratuitous amounts of takeout over your place. You’re grateful for the solitude so you can attempt to converse with strangers via text — maybe even flirt a little. Most of your conversations have become stagnant, but there’s been one guy texting you back and forth for a month now. You’re waiting on him to ask you out since you’re too much of a chickenshit to make the first move.

Now, as you walk down the hall with Namjoon, he elbows your ribs. “So... how’s your Jay-Jay?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Jason is fine.”

“He text you this week?” he asks, stopping in front of the apartment door.

Kind of.

“Mm-hmm!” Your reply is overly enthusiastic and it makes him suspicious.

“Did you text him first?” he questions, pausing before his knuckles touch the door.

Yes. But only because I saw a meme I could use as an excuse to talk to him.

“No.” The tone is questionable so you shake your head violently, scoffing. “I told him I wanted to meet in person.”

“Good. Good. Either he responds or he doesn’t,” he surmises, as if what he said isn’t the most obvious thing in the world. He snakes his hand around the back of your neck, massaging his fingers in circles over muscles you didn’t realize you’d tensed up. “And either way, I’m 100% certain you’re way too good for him. So don’t worry about it so much, okay?”

He snickers when you cast your gaze at the floor with a shy smile. “Joonie… That’s really sweet of you to say. I... Thank you.”

He shrugs off the gratitude with a smirk, trying to not let it get to his head. It’s true and you need to hear it. He clears his throat and knocks, nervously glancing over at you with his other hand still working small circles into the back of your neck. You’ll figure out soon enough that he’s also buttering you up since Jungkook is definitely home tonight, contrary to your belief that he certainly would not be.

The door swings open and a very sweaty, very shirtless Jungkook stands with his leg propped against the door, showcasing every glistening muscle of his body in the dim light. He dons an innocent smile, spreading his stance to push the door open wider and making sure you get a good look at the muscles tensing in his thigh. Your eyes helplessly scan the sculpted lines of his stomach, even as he purposefully flexes to draw the tiniest gasp from your lips. Pert brown nipples threaten to steal your attention, but you drag your eyes to the ink splattered across his skin instead. The myriad of tattoos that line the right side of his body tell a story you don’t have time or desire to explore, and you hate the way that your brain notes the curl of black ink disappearing beneath the band of his shorts and reappearing across his thigh.

“Princess, you made it.” He clicks his tongue with a devilish smirk as he watches you look him up and down with your mouth hanging stupidly agape.

Feeling your fight or flight response kick in, Namjoon’s fingers clamp down hard on your neck to keep you from bolting.

“What is he doing here?” you hiss in your friend’s direction, too distracted to fight against his iron grip on your neck.

“I live here,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms. “What? Didn’t you come here to see me?”

The anger on your tongue short circuits the connection your mouth has with your brain. Your jaw snaps shut and you roll your eyes, mirroring his action by folding your arms across your chest.

Jungkook seems amused by your irritation, offering a small laugh. “Client canceled so I decided to do a little exercise at home. Problem?”

He lets his hands drop to his sides, knowingly hooking his thumbs beneath the band of his shorts. Your eyebrow twitches and your jaw tightens. He knows the effect he has on women. He knows the effect he has on you. You’re determined to deny him the satisfaction so you simply stare him down. Douche.

Namjoon forces a dimpled smile to cut the tension. “So... I brought jenga! Do I smell pizza?”

You attempt to push past Jungkook, but he makes sure to bump a sweaty shoulder into you. “I’ve gotta shower. Wanna join?”

If you roll your eyes any harder, you might sever your optic nerve. “Don’t touch me.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Somehow you’ve been stuck with the worst jenga player in the world as your teammate. Namjoon may be a good friend and smart as fuck, but he is terrible at anything requiring coordination. He’s been the only one to knock the tower over. Four times now. That’s four times you’ve had to drink the disgusting gin offered in the form of a shot by Seokjin.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” you declare, wiping the taste of evergreen trees from your mouth as you set the empty shot glass back down. “Jin, jump in for me?”

You sit back in your chair and pulling out your phone to check your messages.The man grimaces at your request. “Do I have to? The odds seem stacked against me. I can only compensate so much, you know.”

Hoseok and Yoongi snicker into their beers and Jimin laughs out loud as he reaches into the communal bowl of popcorn possessively wedged between his teammate and himself.

“I think these teams are very fair,” Taehyung says, licking the salt from his fingers as he sets the last of the blocks back into position.

“I feel like my luck is changing. Different teammate, different energy, come on,” Namjoon assures him, making the first move.

The block slides out without issue and he drops it on top of the tower with a grin. Hoseok hums a thoughtful sound as he pushes a middle block with the tip of his pointer until it falls onto the other side of the table.

“I’m not sure you’re paying enough attention to be the referee,” Jin pouts.

“Are you really so mad that she’s not looking at you?” Jimin teases with a giggle while making his move. “This is one game where you can’t use your face as a bargaining chip, Jin. It’s all skill.”

The older man scoffs, rolling his eyes as he takes a side block and wagging it in your direction. “How will you know if someone cheats if you’re looking at your phone the whole time, hmm?”

“I’ll know,” you mutter, not bothering to look up. “Besides. How do you cheat at jenga? You knock the tower over or you don’t. Team that knocks the tower over does the shots. Those are pretty simple rules.”

Seokjin grumbles something unintelligible underneath his breath in response. You ignore him as you reach for your bottle of spiked root beer, trying to figure out some clever joke that might impress Jason enough to respond to you. You rack your brain, furrowing your brow in contemplation as you stare at the blinking cursor and take a big swig.

Out of the corner of your eye you catch the flash of white and subconsciously spare a glance up. Your stomach flips like it’s trying to win a gymnastics competition and you wish you could press undo on the double take your eyes have just performed without prompt. Maybe he didn’t notice.

Jungkook pauses in the hall, adjusting the white cotton towel around his waist. He’s grinning at you like the cat that ate the canary as he slowly drags his fingers over the edges of the fabric, peeling it from its resting place on his hips. Of course he fucking noticed.

You force your eyes back to the safety of your phone screen just in time, barely missing the flash of his glossy ink-covered skin. When he realizes you’re not watching the show he’s putting on, he fastens the towel around his waist and walks into the light of the den. You swallow, feeling his eyes rake over your form as he passes the table with a loud sigh.

“All clean,” he announces in a singsong voice as he continues towards the kitchen.

You hate the way your jaw threatens to betray you by attempting to drop at the sight of the rippled muscles carved into his upper back and the thick line creased into the meat of his spine. Even with the broad artistic strokes of color swathed across his back in the shape of a phoenix spreading its red-orange wings wide, you can still see the definition of his form chiseled beneath it. You try not to lose yourself in the flawless details painted into his flesh and grind your teeth to keep your jaw wired shut.

Wet, tangled locks of hair fall into his face as he reaches into the refrigerator. When he stands up straight, he arches his back to stretch his chest towards the ceiling. He’s got a tiny jug of banana milk in his palm and he’s working on chugging it down.

He pauses and licks remnants of the cloudy liquid from his lips. “Thirsty. Relatable, right, Y/N?”

You scowl, tapping furiously on your keyboard. “Put some fucking clothes on.”

Jungkook throws his hands in the air in defeat as he casually wanders out of the room. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”

Your eyes settle on the tower. Minutes pass and still it hasn’t fallen. Turn after turn around the table, the game has gone on far longer than anticipated. Namjoon is determined to not lose this time; it’s actually kind of impressive how careful he’s been. You’ve almost forgotten about Jungkook until he reappears, this time fully covered in black sweats and a long-sleeved shirt. The tension in the room is palpable. You’re afraid to even breathe in the direction of the wooden blocks precariously stacked on one another.

Hoseok is sweating as he prods the stack with his index finger, making a high-pitched whining sound as he tries to determine his next move. Jungkook wedges himself between Jin and Taehyung, forcing you to acknowledge his presence as he sits on the opposite side of the table and steals a fistful of popcorn.

After a few seconds, Hoseok sighs at Yoongi. “I give up. You do it. We’re a team. I’m gonna knock it over if you don’t,” he whines.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and quickly shoots his finger out at a random block. It flies across the table at Seokjin, causing him to dramatically duck out of the way just in time. The table erupts with laughter.

“Damn, that didn’t do it. I was hoping we could play cards now,” Yoongi mutters to himself.

“Hey, what are you doing? You almost hit me with that! You have to put that on top! Go get it!” Jin yells across the table, mind already heavily clouded with booze. At least he’s laughing so you know that heightened tone doesn’t indicate any serious animosity.

“It’s right next to you. Pick it up and give it to me,” Yoongi replies while leaning over the table, which causes the tower to immediately wobble. Hoseok dramatically gasps, bringing his hands to his mouth. Seokjin picks up the block and slides it across the surface as he gives you a pointed look.

"Isn't this cheating? Don't they forfeit since it was on Hobi’s turn?"

"They're technically a team.” You shrug.

"You are a terrible referee," he groans, rubbing his temple as Yoongi carelessly throws the piece on top.

Taehyung and Jimin fervently whisper to each other over their strategy before Taehyung reaches out for an easy-looking target. The slightest touch sends the blocks crashing down, causing the man to blink in disbelief.

“Time to drink up your handsome competitor. Gin served by Jin.” He snickers.

Jimin and Taehyung cringe as Jin slides two shot glasses full of the vile liquid towards them. They link elbows and tilt their heads back, downing the burning liquid in solidarity. Jimin seems unaffected while Taehyung’s face scrunches up and he coughs.

“It burns!” he sputters, clutching his chest. He walks into the kitchen, dragging his tongue across his palm as though it will remove the taste from his mouth.

“Thank god. I don’t think I could have stomached another,” Namjoon murmurs, rising to his feet. “Be right back.”

As soon as he heads off in the direction of the restroom, the others start cleaning up the mess of blocks scattered across the table and Yoongi begins shuffling a deck of cards. Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide into the empty seat beside you. You toss an annoyed glance his way in warning. “Can I help you, Jungkook?”

“You could if you weren’t so busy pretending like you don’t want to look at me.” His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek and he smiles innocently when you look up from your phone to glare daggers at him.

“You’re in Namjoon’s seat.”

He ignores your statement, peering over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of your phone screen. “Who are you texting? Is it your hot friend?”

“She doesn’t want to bang you, dude,” you tell him in a flat tone, flicking the power button to hide the message.

“Oh, just like you?” he asks, unable to hide the amusement striking his features.

After years of practicing this song and dance with other women, he’s grown accustomed to everyone wanting a piece of this cookie. There’s no way you’re immune, especially after his performance on the ocarina a few months ago. He charmed you before you could sink your teeth into his neck and do the same to him, and now you're mad about it. That’s your category, right? Your spite is obviously a cover for your disappointment.

Unless it isn’t. His conviction wavers as your jaw tightens and you take a swig from the dark bottle on the table. People don’t get close unless they want to get fucked. Literally. But you are Joon’s ‘friend’ and you seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him, at least for a little while. Most people are good at faking the first time, but it’s been a while and you’re still here. What if you’re actually hanging around his friends for all the right reasons? What if you had something other than shallow intentions? What if he actually hurt your feelings? He sinks back in his seat, silently stewing in his assumptions.

You set your phone face down on the table, a forced manic smile settling on Yoongi. “What are we playing?”

The man spreads the cards face down over the table in a circle, placing a single shot in the center. “It’s called the circle of death. There are a bunch of ways to play so I’m just gonna pick my favorites.”

He gets up, taking the magnetic whiteboard off the refrigerator and furiously scribbling notes on its surface. You crane your neck to get a good read, but it’s still fairly challenging to make out his chicken scratch.

“There’s a lot you can pick up after hours at bartending school. I had fun playing this with the other people in my class but it’ll probably be even better with you guys.”

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ  RULES:

A - Face

2 - You

3 - Me

4 - Floor

5 - Jive

6 - Forehead master

7 - Heaven

8 - Hate

9 - Rhyme

10 - Social

J - Never

Q - Eat

K - Rulemaker

Joker - Waterfall

Your eyebrows furrow at the words you can make out. “This seems complicated.”

Yoongi scoffs, setting the board on the counter and leaning it against the wall. “Trust me. It’s not as bad as it seems. Besides this will be right here in case you forget.”

“Does that say eat? Yoongi, what the fuck does that mean?” You tilt your head to the side and try to read the list in its entirety but still at a loss for what it means.

Hoseok scratches his head, equally as stumped by the list.

“I’ll go over the rules once everyone is back at the table. I have a feeling I’ll be repeating them enough once we start.”

You slump in your chair with a pout as you proceed to polish off your beverage. Namjoon returns and sees his spot has been taken.

"Kook," he warns, tapping his friend in the shoulder to try to get him to move over.

Namjoon isn't stupid in the slightest. He may lack common sense at times and he definitely is the clumsiest person in the room, but perception is his strength. What do you get when you add up the subtle glances, the nervous stutters, and shy smiles? Multiply that sum by the times you've tucked your hair behind your ear needlessly, gotten starry-eyed while talking, or claimed a seat nearby. Tallying your distracted behaviors yields a simple answer: a crush.

You don't have to say anything. You never have to say anything because you wear that shame so well. Even subtracting the stunt Jungkook pulled on Halloween and the distance you've put down since then, it's not enough to negate the total. You say you hate him, but those glances are still there. Pressing your lips tight to keep yourself from smiling has become your default defensive tactic. Playing with your hair quickly turns into tugging loose strands back into a ponytail. It’s almost painful to watch. He wonders if anyone else sees it for what it is because Jungkook sure doesn’t.

Staying out of it is tough because he knows both sides. But it’s not his place to spill the tea to either one of you. You’re both his friends and it’s hard not to feel like the mediator that he definitely doesn’t want to be. You’re adults. You can figure your shit out without him to take care of every little thing. Yeah, it would be easier just to do it all for you, but you’ll never learn that way and neither will he. However, that doesn’t mean he can’t drop some caution tape out every once in a while.

Jungkook digs his heels into the floor and huffs. “But I like this seat and you got up so it’s mine now.”

“Joonie, it’s fine.” You manage to keep the irritation out of your voice, talking over the man to your left like he’s not even there. “He’ll get bored eventually. Don’t feed the troll.”

Namjoon shakes his head and takes a seat on the opposite side of Jungkook, grumbling how you’re going to come crying to him later when Jungkook snaps your bra straps or some shit and his friend is gonna end up with a black eye but whatever not his problem. At least that’s the gist of what you get out of your friend’s griping. He may have a point, but you’re not going to acknowledge that. You’re busy looking at the plastic cup full of beer set down in front of you.

You crinkle your nose at Yoongi but he answers before you can ask. “Everyone is drinking the same thing. Even playing field. Not really fair if someone's got more alcohol in their drink."

You catch Taehyung's eyes across the table and mirror his disgusted expression, both of you sticking your tongue out at the liquid.

"Alright. There's only one rule you really need to be worried about in the beginning: my rule to keep you all from getting distracted. If you touch your phone, whoever catches you is allowed to send any message to any contact in it.”

Jungkook grins wickedly at you, noticing the way you drop your mobile device on the table and leave it where it lands face down. Yoongi goes over the rules one by one and gives an example of each being used. Everyone blinks at him stupidly once he gets to the Queen and delivers a deadpan explanation that whoever pulls that card has to eat it. None of you are drunk enough to believe him, so he scribbles the rule out on the whiteboard and writes a question mark instead. He sets the board back in place and continues with his explanation, looking at everyone expectantly.

He points at the board behind him, not bothering to look back at it. "This is here in case you forget what any of the cards mean, but we’ll go slow since there are eight of us.”

A full round around the table and you are all feeling pretty comfortable and giggly. Some of the more tame cards have made their way into the discard pile beside Yoongi.

Jin pulled an eight and made Tae drink until he said stop, which was hilarious and equally terrifying when you realized someone could do the same to you. Luckily the enemy beside you didn’t have the pleasure.

Taehyung pulls a King and tries to make a weird rule that any time a four is played and you’re all scrambling to the floor, the last one to touch the ground has to kiss the feet of the cardholder. When you collectively agree you are not doing that he huffs and makes a rule that for the rest of the game if you have to drink, you have to dirty talk your beer before taking a sip. This rule makes you determined not to lose any rounds.

Laughter erupts from the table when Yoongi calls his drink a filthy little slut before having to take a sip. Hobi is so thrilled when Yoongi pulls a five and starts dancing immediately after that he ended up cackling instead of focusing on the game. He’s less than thrilled about needing to drink after missing the opportunity to dance so he ends up glaring at his drink.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, you filthy bitch? You want me to put my hands around your throat, put my tongue on you and drink up? Alright then.” He coos a ridiculous sound at his cup and guffaws before taking a huge swig.

Jimin covers his eyes and laughs, downing the rest of his drink like it’s water without a thought of whether he was supposed to or not. He gets up to refill his cup as an excuse to hide the heat in his cheeks.

“Hobi’s upping the game. Woooooow.” Jin leans back in his chair, mouth agape with wonder before bursting into a squeaky laugh.

You gulp, hoping everyone is too distracted by their own laughter to notice the way your legs clamp together. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the actual. Fuck. Hobi. I gotta text Jennie. She’s not gonna believe this. No, don’t touch your phone. Don’t look at anyone. Just wait for your turn to pick a card.

Hobi pulls a three and has to drink again. “Ah. This slut wants more. Here we go, baby.”

You desperately scan the circle of facedown cards, a smile forcefully smattered on your features. You strain to reach the one you’re trying for. Hoseok slides it towards you with an innocent smile, as though those lips weren’t just spewing absolute filth. “I hope it’s a good one.”

Your eyes drop to the card as you flip it back on the table. Jack. You squint at the board, trying to figure out what “Never” means when Yoongi puts three fingers up.

“Alright, Y/N. This is Never Have I Ever. We all put our fingers up like this. You come up with something you’ve never done and say it out loud. If any of us have done those things,” he pauses and drops a finger so he only has two standing tall, “then we put them down. First one to have no fingers up has to drink.”

Oh no. What haven’t I done? What haven’t I done? The guys all expectantly wait for you to say something. You purse your lips as your mind blanks on every moment you’ve ever experienced.

“Never have I ever…” your mouth is dry. “I don’t know.”

Yoongi laughs. “Don’t think too hard. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy, but it does have to be true. It’s not fun otherwise. People have different goals. You can use it to learn or you can just try get as many people to drink as possible.”

Suddenly a lightbulb goes off in your head. They’re all men. “Never have I ever peed standing up.”

Everyone around the table puts a finger down. The mirth in Yoongi’s face becomes strained and his eyelids flutter as he sighs. “Careful. There are a lot of cards left and you’re about to make yourself a target.”

You press on anyway. “Never have I ever had sex with a woman.”

A few of them tut in annoyance as they’re all left with one finger up.

Jungkook pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek. “You’re not living your best life then.”

You furrow your brow while trying to think of another easy thing that could get them all to lose. Tapping your fingers on the table, you make an effort to focus on each one’s concentrated gaze. It comes to you and you filter your bottom lip through your teeth for a moment. Have they...? You’d bet they all have.

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you. “Come on, Princess. Just say whatever it is.”

“Never have I ever been to a strip club.”

There’s a collective sigh as their hands drop and they stare at their drinks. You grin like a maniac, taking in the garbled sounds of each one dirty-talking their drinks like it’s a goddamn orgy.

Jungkook looks over at you, making sure he has your attention as he offers an amused smile. “You really haven’t been to Wings?”

You’ve seen signs for that club, hating to admit the ads garnered intrigue. It’s split down the middle, supposedly one side angelic and the other hellish. “Nope. Drink up, Jungkook.”

He maintains eye contact with you, bringing his drink to his lips. “Maybe I can get you to come. Will you give me permission to taste you?” He tilts his head back and makes a show of closing his eyes and slowly slurping his beverage. You narrow your eyes at him before he puts the cup back down. “Delicious. My turn.”

He flips the card. “King. Ooh. My rule. Starting now, every time you say something you have to start with the word hashtag and end with dotcom.”

“Jungkook, that’s so stupid,” you say without thinking.

“Hashtag, drink up Princess, dotcom,” he replies with an impish grin.

You bite your lip and stare at your drink. How could you be so careless? They all lean in, waiting for the words to leave your mouth. You hold your hands up in a T-shape. “Hold up. Time out. Pause the game. I need some clarity. Do I have to say hashtag dotcom thing WHILE talking to my drink?”

Namjoon looses it, laughing like a maniac. “Hashtag, I think you fucking do Y/N dotcom.”

Jungkook just smiles, crossing his arms and waiting for you to continue. God, you fucking hate him. This is the dumbest rule you’ve ever heard. It’s going to get old fast. Still, you stare down at your cup. “Hashtag… Uh… I’m gonna... s-slurp your fluids out now, dotcom?”

Jungkook’s obnoxious laugh is piercing your eardrums as you down a few big gulps. The rest of the table roars with laughter and heat burns your cheeks, not daring to make eye contact with any one of them.

“W-What was that?!” Jin yells. “You sound like an alien! Can I give you some pointers, please?”

“Hashtag, Seokjin! You forgot dotcom!” Jungkook says, pointing to his friend’s cup.

Jin curses under his breath and stares at his cup. “Hashtag, this is how you do it, Y/N.” He focuses on his cup without missing a beat, raising it up to the sky longingly like he’s about to start serenading it. “You wish you could hear me say this every day, don’t you? You love how my mouth feels on you. I can tell by the way you’re dripping for me, my lovely. Dot. Com.” He makes a point to run his tongue along the rim of his cup and takes a sip.

Fuck these guys. But also… Fuck? These guys? You’re one dirty comment away from soaking your panties, but they don’t need to know that.

“Hashtag I’m sorry I’m not a slut like the rest of you. Also Seokjin, you’re a bitch, dotcom,” you grumble, gripping your knees to keep your hands off your phone. Jennie will absolutely scream once you tell her about this night. She’ll be sad she missed out.

Jin’s eyes go wide as though you smacked his ass in front of the world, a smile is taking over the corners of his mouth. “Hashtag, stop trying to flirt with me, dotcom.”

You roll your eyes but you can’t help the shy smile that creeps in. Jungkook sits up straight and sighs dramatically. “Hashtag let’s keep going so we can get the rest of this bread dotcom.”

Jimin pulls a king and has made the rule that hashtag dotcom is abolished. It comes as a relief when you’re a few more rounds in, and everyone has already consumed way more booze than expected because of Jungkook’s rule. An uneventful round of drinking passes before Seokjin pulls the last King out.

“A rule, hmm? Alright. When you ask someone to drink you have to hold their chin, stare longingly into their eyes, and ask them to drink.” He demonstrates, holding Taehyung’s jaw in his fingers. “Like this. Will you please drink for me, my dear friend, Taehyung?”

Tae bashfully giggles waving his hand away. “You’re too much sometimes. I think you need a girlfriend.”

Since it only applies for certain cards, you end up forgetting about it as multiple turns come and go without utilizing it. Your turn rises again and you slide the eight face up across the table. After kicking your chair with his feet for the millionth time, you completely forget about the rule Jin made and pick based on your irritation. Eight is hate indeed.

“Jungkook, go until I say stop.”

The words feel satisfying as they leave your mouth, but Namjoon grimaces, anxiously baring both sets of teeth.

“Uh… You gotta…” Namjoon taps his cheeks twice with his fingertips.

Horror replaces that smug satisfaction in the pit of your stomach and it churns a sickness deep inside that pit.

Jungkook cocks his head at you. “You really wanna put your hands on me that badly, huh?”

You exhale loudly and tightly grip his chin with sweaty, hot fingers. Your eyes threaten to burn holes into his. “Jungkook, go until I say stop.”

He’s stunned into silence for a second, adam’s apple bobbing ever so slightly. He blinks at you a couple times before regaining his composure. Who knew princesses can breathe fire? Grabbing his cup, he grins and chuckles an amused sound even as you’re tearing yourself from him.

“Don’t worry I can go all night when you taste so good, baby,” he says, tilting his head back as he drinks.

You keep an eye on his cup, watching the liquid slowly disappear. You have to be careful not to let him finish, but you kind of want him to suffer a little bit. Even though he drinks like a fish, he’s still not on Jimin’s level. This has to be affecting him somehow. He watches you through an annoyed side-eye when you don’t say a word, not allowed to stop until you say so or until he finishes his drink. Your phone chooses this exact moment to vibrate a long sound against the table and your concentrated gaze wanders for a second too long, allowing him to gulp down the remnants of his drink.

Jungkook slams his empty cup down in time for you to look back at him in horror before looking at your own full cup. The room fills with the sound of everyone “ooooh-ing” like this is the sixth grade. With a heavy sigh, you bring your cup to your lips.

“I was distracted. I would have said stop.”

Jungkook leans his elbow on the table and rests his head on a folded palm. His smile tells you he’s ready to dish it back. “Mmm-hmm. Go on. Oh… Wait.”

He sits up, cupping your jaw in his hands so lightly, like it could disintegrate at the slightest touch. He leans his head back slightly, soft eyes imploring you to move closer. He slides his fingers up your jawline, nestling them behind your ears like he’s about to draw you to his lips. “Will you be good and drink that for me until I ask you to stop?”

Jin scoffs. “Wow. Look at this guy.”

The others hold back their snickers. Your eyebrow twitches, smacking his hands away from you. Instead you focus on the cup in your sweaty palms.

“I can’t wait to feel you… dripping from my mouth,” you whisper to your cup, trying to redeem yourself for earlier and doing your best not to think about how fucking good it felt having Jungkook’s hands wrapped around the sides of your face. You don’t spare a look at any of them as you tilt your head back and start gulping the liquid down.

“Much better,” Yoongi says with a smirk, but you don’t hear him over the sound of blood rushing in your ears.

Namjoon smacks his hand to his forehead. “Yeah... I’m gonna need you to dial it back just a bit. I still have to see you at work.”

Jin pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “Ah, maybe our Zelda isn’t so bad at this after all.”

Jimin, Taehyung and Hobi all have their elbows on the table, cheeks in their palms as they watch your throat make its swallowing motions. They simultaneously grunt differing words of affirmation. About three quarters through, Jungkook puts his hand on the bottom of your cup.

“Stop.”

Mercy? From Jungkook? You don’t believe it, but you’ve been struggling so you’re kind of grateful. Just as you’re about to put the cup down, he taps the bottom of it, forcing liquid to splash upwards onto your chin. You slap his hand away as he cackles and you wipe your lips.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

“What time, sweetheart?” He grins when you glare at him.

“Just pick your fucking card before I strangle you.”

“Kinky. You know, I might let you if you asked nicely.”

You get the pitcher of beer from the fridge and start refilling everyone’s cups. He pulls a card that has him whispering dirty words into the rim of his empty cup, holding it out for you to fill. At least most of the cards seem to be gone now. You hate to admit you’re feeling a bit dizzy and out of sorts, but you reason that it’s just a few more rounds, so maybe you just sip on water after this game is over.

Just as you get back to your seat, Namjoon throws a sheepish grin your way. “Joker.”

“There’s only one of these,” Yoonngi begins, looking around the room to make sure he has everyone’s attention. “Waterfall is when everyone starts drinking and you can’t stop until the person to your right stops. Namjoon can stop whenever he wants, but Jin has to wait until he’s done. Then Taehyung waits until Jin is done. Make sense?”

Normally the waterfall card is played in the opposite direction, but there’s so much tension between you and Jungkook tonight and he’s so used to his friend getting his way with women that he can’t help wanting to give you the edge on him. Everyone nods. The realization dawns on everyone that before this can happen, they all have to do two things per the rules.

One after another the guys ask the person to their left to drink while gripping their chins. It would be a fairly intimate scene if people weren’t giggling every three seconds. Still, your heart damn near skips a beat when Hobi’s slender fingers curl under your jaw, drunkenly pulling you closer to his face than you’ve ever dared to get. Heat builds in your stomach and travels up your chest, spreading across your back and prickling your neck. You hope it doesn’t move into your cheeks.

“You gonna take this drink, Y/N?” he aks, unable to hold the giggles in as he wags your head back and forth in his steady hands.

Oh… He’s fucking gone, isn’t he? “For you? Maybe,” you flirt, rubbing your shoulder against his as you turn away.

Jungkook sits up straight, muscles tensing as you twist your body towards him. Suddenly, he looks a lot bigger than you remember. Is he puffing out his chest? You wilt under his irritated stare but are determined not to let it show. You slip your fingers underneath his chin, just barely registering the stubble there. Your slow blink hides the flutter of your eyelashes, alcohol clouding your brain with desire. But damn if the room isn’t still spinning. He flashes you boyish grin when you clap your palm to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Yes?”

“Drink up, buttercup,” you giggle, pinching your fingers closed beneath his jaw.

A choked laugh escapes him. “You should sit this one out. At this rate, you’ll be passed out with your face on the toilet seat in an hour.”

You spin back to your drink with fury in your eyes; if there’s anything you hate more than Jungkook, it’s being told what to do. Especially by Jungkook. I’ll show you, asshole.

Everyone turns to their cups and mutters a few dirty words before Namjoon begins the circle of drinking. One by one the cups come down, everyone seemingly grateful for the person before them showing at least some kind of mercy. You slow your gulping when you realize Jimin is dragging it out in an attempt to annoy Yoongi. Both of them still seem surprisingly sober for the amount they’ve ingested. Maybe they don’t wear their intoxication as easily as the rest of you. Hobi exchanges a worried glance at you, trying to not let it slip that he’s only pretending to down his beverage, but you can tell by the steady level of the liquid in his cup that he’s pretty much ready to tap out.

As soon as Jimin finally pulls his cup back from his lips, Yoongi stops, immediately followed by Hobi. Yoongi is keenly aware of his roommate’s inability to hold down liquor in large quantities. He doesn’t fare much better with beer. Saving his friend means you can be saved too. He looks at you, raising his eyebrows in warning. You spare a fleeting glance in his direction, but it’s long enough to catch his message loud and clear: Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. Don’t go overboard.

But you turn your attention to Jungkook, who is still effortlessly allowing his beverage to slither down his throat. You gulp in segments, a commendable attempt to keep yourself going. Even for all your efforts, booze spills from the corners of your mouth and leaves cold sloppy trails down your neck as you watch Jungkook. He’s not even struggling. Fuck. You finally give up, allowing the cup to smack down on the table with a messy splash.

He keeps going just to spite you, polishing off his drink with a smack of his lips and a satisfied sigh. He rises from his seat, patting your shoulder as he gets himself more to consume. “It’s cute how hard you tried.”

The final round passes and you are ready to strangle Jungkook for the way he keeps knocking his knees against yours. It’s gotten to the point where you’ve moved your chair so close to Hobi’s that he’s put his arm around you, thinking you are just as sleepy as he is. Truth be told you kind of are. The room is a little too spinny for your liking, but you can’t seem to persuade your brain to make your legs get up and get yourself a glass of water.

“You want to nap too?” he whispers, rubbing the eyes he can hardly keep open. “Come here. Let’s sleep together.”

The innocent words make your stomach spin in place but you don’t have time to ruminate on them. Jungkook hooks his ankle around your chair and jerks it back towards him. Furious eyes flicker on him in warning just as Hobi’s cheek slumps over your shoulder and draws your attention away. Luckily Yoongi springs into action to keep his friend from falling any further into your personal space than he already has.

“Okay, Hobi. We get it. You need to sleep,” he chuckles, cradling his friend’s arm around his shoulder as he helps him to his feet.

Hoseok weakly grumbles a sound of acknowledgement as they shuffle down the hall into what you assume is a guest room. Their apartment is bigger than any you’ve seen so you find yourself wondering just how many guest rooms they could possibly have. Then you remind yourself that it doesn’t matter because you are definitely not staying because getting an uber is always an option.

When Yoongi returns alone, people have started migrating into the living room. Jungkook and Jin are still seated, heatedly talking about some game nearby, but you’ve elected to ignore them in favor of checking your messages. Jason has sent you a few messages that have piqued your interest, including one finally asking you on a date. Does ignoring guys really fucking work? Was Namjoon right about something in his life? You don’t want to believe it.

The words in Jason’s message blur together, despite how hard you’re concentrating on them. You’d told him you were out with friends. He must have known you’d be relatively unavailable so maybe it’s okay that you’re in no shape to formulate a coherent response. Still you stare at the keyboard, jumping when an arm reaches over you to place a glass of water on the table for you.

You blink a few times at Yoongi, who simply whispers a gruff “drink” before grabbing the shot left in the center of the table and downing it as he joins the majority of his friends in the other room. Jungkook looks over at you, eyes dropping to your open conversation when you absentmindedly set your phone down. You take the cold glass in both hands and narrow your eyes in Yoongi’s direction as you swallow down a good portion of the liquid.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It’s been an hour and if you’re honest you’ve just barely teetered back into the moderately drunk category. Yoongi had offered to take you home when he was getting ready to leave since he was already chauffeuring Namjoon. At the time you declined because you were certain that your natural predisposition to motion sickness would be amplified by the liquor in your system. You didn’t want to make Yoongi’s new car smell like puke. Namjoon has this habit of texting when he’s worried. Even after he left you’d been going back and forth about the night. Honestly it’s kind of helping keep you from passing out and you’re reminded how grateful you are for his friendship.

Sitting on the couch next to Jimin may have also influenced your decision since the man literally smells how vacations feel — and god do you need to relax. He’s also acted as a barrier between you and Jungkook, who has his legs stretched out across the cushions to Jimin’s right. Jungkook has been engrossed in his phone since you left the table, opting out of switching off with Taehyung when he dies in-game. You’re kind of thankful for it. Maybe he’s finally settled down for the night. Does he get more polite with drowsiness?

Jimin smiles softly at you, his arms draped over the back of the couch. The pair of you have been quietly conversing and giggling over the platformer Seokjin and Taehyung have been playing. Jimin’s face still looks a little flush with alcohol, but he only just finished his last beverage for the night. How the hell can someone so tiny pack away so much liquor? You hold in a shiver as his fingertips playfully dance along your shoulder, trying not to let on how the action affects you. His harmless flirting only bolsters confidence hiding in the depths of your mind and you stretch your arms up with a yawn and lean against him, knowingly giving him a better view of the cleavage poking out from beneath the v-cut of your shirt.

Jimin allows a devilish smile to curl at his lips as his fingers walk down your arm. He puts both hands back on the couch, like you’d made the move unprompted by his touching. “Hmm. You’re pretty bold, aren’t you?” His whisper is low and breathy, so quiet you almost miss it. What a tease.

“Hey. Jimin. Come here.”

The unusually quiet Jungkook knocks his foot against his friends knee, which pushes Jimin’s thigh up against yours. You softly sigh at the contact and the subsequent loss when Jungkook sits up and Jimin apologetically scoots away. You plant an elbow on the armrest beside you and prop your cheek up on your palm. Seokjin is carrying Taehyung through this level it seems.

“Do you think I should tap that?” The words are loud enough to distract you so you can’t help but turn your head in their direction.

“I think she might be out of your league,” Jimin giggles. “Besides she’s older than you. I thought that bothered you?”

“Oh. No way. I love it. When they have more experience I don’t have to work as hard,” he replies with a lofty sigh.

“Are you sure about that in this case? You’re very presumptuous.”

Your blood heats up the back of your neck. Why are men so disgusting? You grit your teeth, unable to hold in the sound of disgust that makes its way through them.

Jungkook’s head snaps up and he locks eyes with you. There’s something smug about his expression, like he’s stupidly proud of pulling that reaction from you. “Aw, are you feeling left out, princess? Here, see for yourself. Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

When he flips his screen around your own profile is staring back at you. Straightening your spine and reaching across Jimin’s lap for him, you hiss, “Jungkook, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Why?” He tilts his head to one side, feigning confusion and looks at the profile again. “I think she’s pretty hot.”

“If you match with me, I will not swipe right on you. You know that, right? So this whole thing is pointless,” you reason, more for yourself than the two men beside you. “You’re not gonna get to me. It’s not gonna fucking work, Jungkook.”

Jimin’s shoulders tremble with soft, mellifluous laughter that spills from his lips as he takes in the exchange. It’s apparent that Jungkook has already gotten under your skin. Denying it is only making you angrier.

“Fine. Fine. It’s gone now, see,” Jungkook says, briefly flashing you the home screen of his phone before putting it away. The image of that big tiddy anime girl behind all those icons is going to haunt your dreams; you can feel it.

You get up to get yourself more water. “I hate you so much.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It’s late. Seokjin left a few minutes ago and Jimin rubs his eyes, unsure what to do. The selfish part of his brain tells him he should claim the other guest room. The horny part of his brain tells him he should suggest you share with him. The exhausted part of his brain tells him to just pass out in Taehyung’s bed and let him figure it out.

“You’re welcome to stay, too. We have room for you,” Taehyung says with a kind smile. “There’s another guest room.”

You still don’t feel well enough to drive or sit in a cab. You sit with your hands folded in your lap, pondering your shitty life choices. You’ve become pretty good friends, but a sleepover seems a bit strange without your bestie Namjoon to buffer out all of the awkward moments.

You smile as sweetly as you can manage, your voice small and borderline whiny in its need for sleep. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want to be a bother. Thank you, Taehyung.”

The man rolls his eyes. “I won’t allow you to sleep on a couch when we have beds.”

“Your couch is comfier than my actual bed,” you joke, patting the plush cushions on either side of you.

Jungkook walks in, shirtless and scrubbing a toothbrush furiously in his mouth. He tries to speak but it’s unintelligible, so he turns back around to finish up.

“It’s really okay. I should stay up and finish my water anyway and I don’t want to keep you guys up. I drank a little too much.”

“No shit,” Jungkook sighs as he rounds the corner and leans against the wall. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay up with you, Princess.”

Taehyung flashes his friend a pointed look and opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when Jungkook continues.

“You guys go on. I’ll make sure she drinks up her water and gets to bed.”

You glare at him as Taehyung moves in to whisper something to him, but you lose focus as Jimin pulls you into a tight hug that you can’t help but return.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he mumbles into the fabric of your hoodie. “I’m glad you’re a part of our family.”

You squeeze his shoulder before he shuffles down the hall and disappears into the bathroom. “Goodnight, Y/N!”

Taehyung offers a boxy smile and a small wave, demeanor changed after his side conversation with Jungkook. “Don’t take off without having breakfast. Seokjin will come back and make something tasty. Also I put your keys in my studio so good luck finding them if you try.”

You half laugh, half scoff. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. ‘Night.”

“Goodnight,” he says, passing Jungkook a tight lipped smile on his way down the hall.

Jungkook waits until he hears the door close before he speaks and for the first time since you met him, his tone borderlines concerned. “Be honest with me. How sick are you right now?”

Your throat swallows down a thick mass of air. “I’m fine.”

“Tch. Okay, Princess,” he scoffs in disbelief, taking slow steps towards you with his hands buried in the pockets of his black sweatpants. “Do you need a bucket?”

“No.” You drink down your water, trying to focus on anything but the way your body is producing enough sweat to make you want to discard your hoodie as soon as he leaves you alone.

A door opens down the hall and Jimin shuffles out before disappearing into another room. The quiet click of the door closing causes Jungkook to sigh. 

Spinning. The room is spinning again. You hold the cold glass in your hands like it’s your lifeline, shut your eyes and throw your head back to rest it against the couch. You don’t notice when he leaves, but you definitely notice the cold cloth pressed to your forehead when he returns.

“Do you want comfier clothes?” he quietly asks, voice bereft of any humor as he sinks into the cushion beside you.

You open your eyes and glare at him like this is some prank he’s playing on you but you’re not sure how. “No.”

He rolls his eyes. “Suit yourself. I get hella hot when I’m drunk off my ass. Figured I’d ask.”

“I’m not...” you begin, trying to bring your head to rise. It feels heavy and plops back down on the seat.

“You’re drunk,” he states plainly. “And miserable. So drink up the rest of the water and I’ll show you to the guest room. It’ll be embarrassing if any of my friends wake up to you looking so pathetic. Come on.”

He helps you bring the cup to your lips and tilts your head forward enough to safely consume the rest of the water in your glass.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“If you think this is what nice guys are like, I feel bad for you.” He puts the glass down in the kitchen sink, briefly rinsing it.

“Jungkook,” you whine, an exasperated sigh passing your lips with his name.

“What? Your judgement of character is way outta whack. It’s just sad,” he explains, crossing the room while rubbing fresh lotion up his arms. Washing dishes makes his skin feel itchy.

“Alright. Come on. Up.” He waves his arms lets them weakly smack his thighs when you don’t move.

A whiff of sweet peaches and soft jasmine pervades your nostrils. Why does he have to smell so fucking good? He removes the cool cloth from your forehead, earning a whine from you.

“You’ll get a new one when you get in bed. I can carry you, if that’s easier.”

“Tell me why you’re doing this. I don’t get it. What do you want?”

“I want to go to sleep so I can be lazy tomorrow and do nothing but play video games.” When you don’t budge he sighs and sits down beside you again. “And... because... you’re Namjoon’s friend and he asked us to look out for you... And now you’re all of my friends’ friend… And I guess that makes you my responsibility.”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t expecting you to just decide you’re gonna be nice out of the blue,” you weakly smirk and let your head roll to the side so you can look at him. “Should have known it was Namjoon.

He hums an amused sound. “Yeah. Now are you going to let me get you in bed?”

You’re able to force your head up at that. “I can get myself in bed just fine thanks.”

He laughs. “Your loss.”

You stand on unsteady legs. “Where am I going?”

Jungkook grins, entertained by your lack of coordination. “That’s a good question. Where are you going, Princess?”

You stumble a bit, reaching out to steady yourself with a wall that is definitely too far to grab. Long, tattooed fingers grip your shoulders in an instant. The heat of his massive chest presses against your shoulder blades. Even through your layers of clothing you can feel how hot his skin burns and it makes you shiver, despite the way you’re soaked with sweat.

“Don’t make me ask you for help,” you plead. “Please don’t.”

“Do you want me to pretend like you didn’t beg for it, too?” he whispers, curling a muscular bicep around your back and guiding you down the hall. As he passes the thermostat, he makes a point to lower the temperature a few degrees. Jimin, Hobi, and Tae will survive. But then again, he’s not worried about them at all, is he?

“Haven’t you embarrassed me enough?” You voice cracks and you’re barely managing to hold back the tears threatening to spill out.

He doesn’t say a word as you cling to the strength of his body, looping your arms around his neck and waist as though he isn’t the last person in the world you want to tangle yourself in. He pushes the door to his room open with his shoulder, making sure you get across the threshold okay before helping you awkwardly waddle over to the unmade bed. You don’t seem to notice, and if you do, you definitely don’t comment.

Your hoodie is falling from your shoulders as you climb onto the mattress. Jungkook grabs the fabric and slings it over his shoulder. You’ve landed at a weird angle across the pillows and show no signs of correcting your position so he moves the pillows beneath your head to comfortably accommodate you. You slowly blink at him, but you’re not seeing him. Silent tears rolling down your cheeks as he grabs the thinnest sheet on his bed and pulls it over your form up to your shoulders. He chooses to ignore the way you quickly swipe them away and instead goes to get the cold towel he promised.

Standing in the sink with ice cold water running over the cloth in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into the air around him, knowing no one will ever hear it.

When he returns he waits a moment, looking for the steady rise and fall of your chest. He smooths the hair from your face before pressing the cold cloth against your sweaty forehead, turning your head to the side just in case your body decides it isn’t quite ready to rest. He lightly pats your head a couple times and leaves the room, delicately closing the door behind him.

As he makes the journey back to the couch, he feeds his arms through the sleeves of your hoodie. He settles down on the couch, feeling the warmth of the space you’d been occupying all night beneath his head. Pulling down the blanket from atop the back of the couch, he brings his knees to his chest. He bunches the soft, excess material of your hoodie in his palms and turns his head into the fabric, allowing himself a subtle inhale.

Why do you have to smell so fucking good?

[minccinoocappuccino]

Beyblade: Evolution Review

Finally got around to writing this review for the person who asked for it

I’m going to break this review into sections so I don’t forget anything.  

◉ Mechanics ◉ Graphics ◉ Gameplay ◉ story/Plot

⚠️ I’m not a game reviewer and these opinions are just that opinions ⚠️

Mechanics 

Ok so the big thing about this particular game is that you launch the beys through gyro and motion sensors using the Nintendo 3DS’s camera...or at least that’s how it’s supposed to be done. I’ve found all you really have to do is flick your 3DS towards or away from you and it counts as a launch. You do have to launch it at the right time however as you get spirit bursts that “ make your bey stronger for a short time”. If you do launch it off it really doesn't matter much you just start off with less spirit burst which I’ll explain later why it’s fine. There's really not much else to this gimmick though you only use it to launch beys and that's it so it's only about 2 secs of a beybattle despite being one of it’s biggest selling points.

Another mechanic is changing the bey parts to make your own, which is one of the best parts in the game. You can even try and recreate character beys or just come up with your own! They draw back to this though is if you want to win you really can’t use some of the beys at all. The game has the 4 types of beys in it Attack, Defense, Stamina, and Balance but it might as well just be Defense, and Stamina only. The Attack beys are so useless using them is an instant loss unless you get a lucky knock out really fast. They have no stamina at all so once you launch them they run out faster than the ps5 did, you have seconds to knock out the longer lasting beys with no help from your spirit bursts since you won’t have time to gain them. Balance beys suffer from the jack of all master of none curse, even if you build it with mostly stamina , you might as well instead make a full Stamina instead. Side note: Orion is one of the best beys to use its really OP though it’s only able to be bought late game Sagittarius is a good early game one to pick up. 

Now let's talk about spirit bursts, they suck. There's not really a gain to using them, yes your beyblade gets stronger by spinning fast but it goes so fast it usually misses the other bey and if they other hits you while your going so fast you have a higher chance of just flying out the ring. After 35 hours of playing this mechanic has helped me exactly zero times but has caused me to lose 7 times that I remember.

Graphics

There's not actually much to talk about with its graphics seeing as how it’s almost identically to other beyblade games. They did put a lot of effort into trying to make the beyblades look realistic, but there's only so much early 2000s graphics can do. The sprites look like they were drawn and then squished down to look pixelated; they still look good however, resembling the show's art while the pixelated effect gives it a more game feel. The text boxes however are really bad imo...There are solid blue boxes that go across the entire bottom of the screen with plain white letters over it for the dialogue. The worst part about them is the characters' names are in the same front, size, and colour of the dialogue so it all just blends together. 

The backgrounds are all neat and nice nothing to complain about….except the “special backgrounds”. These are for Battles and some Mini games and they're just real life pictures of parks or buildings. There so blurry and pixelated they look like they were taken from google earth. I know they wanted to give this game the feel of playing an actual bey battle in real life but starting at a clearly modeled and textured bey and area with real grass and buildings behind it is strange and out of place. This is just a nitpick since you really don't notice it much and again I know it’s early 2000s graphics so I can't complain much I still feel just putting in backgrounds from the show or just drawn ones would have looked better.

Gameplay

So the game is like a RNG where you go to different places on the map, meet characters from the show, battle them and enter tournaments and shop for parts. It’s very simple and easy to get the hang of and progress. You have 50 turns to do all this and become the champion™. On your 10th turn you enter tournaments to win beypoints to buy new parts. There are two stadiums for tournaments and you can go to each to do this, they have different rules so pay attention to this before entering. One you can use 3 beys and the other only one, if you can only afford one good bey you need to enter the one bey only one or else you will get crushed. On your turns you progress by going to random places on the map and meeting and talking to the characters to earn points, and their friendship. By befriending a character you get to unlock their mini game plus they will give you parts of their beys as gifts which is great if you befriend Kenta but Ginga might as well be giving you trash. Each talk/battle with a character takes up one turn and it takes a couple of times fighting and beating them to get to a high friendship level enough for them to fork over there bey. Since you only have 50 turns if you want a certain bey from a character focus on them only until you get it. Fully befriending a character will also unlock more characters that show up on the map as well.

You can buy beyparts at the two stores in game the B-pit and WBBA store with Madoka and Hikaru running them. The WBBA has better choices and higher ranking beyparts but the B-pit is cheaper so starting out with the B-pit is usually the best option and then switching over after earning good parts from characters. Going to the shop does use up a turn so buy what you need in one go.

The actual battling is boring and not fun at all. Like I said earlier they really wanted this game to give you the feel of real life beybattling so after you launch your bey you just sit there and watch it spin you can’t control it all so when you get knocked out or win it feels less like skill and more like luck. I get the skill is supposed to come from customizing the best bey but unless you're using the meta beys you kinda lose so you're forced to use beys you might not like to win there's really no room for innovation. The spirit burst was supposed to cover this by giving you a sense of doing something in the battle but it’s so useless most of the time it feels like you wasted it. It’s not even an auto thing you can’t just press the spirit button and your beys instantly get its power you have to aim it and hit your bey with it while its spinning and if you hit your opponent they get it or its just gone.

The minigames aren't a big thing in the game once you befriend a character you unlock his/hers game, which two characters can have the same one, to play and earn points from it. So far I’ve only played 5 different minigames: Balloon pop: you shoot a bey at balloons rising upwards different coloured balloons will give you different number of points the faster balloons give the most Track: you tilt your DS side to side to keep you bey on the track the faster you get to the end without falling off the more points you get Ring: You shoot your bey threw moving rings the more rings you shoot threw in a row the more points you get What part is it: parts of the bey will show up on screen and you have to guess if it's a Facebolt, Energy ring, Wheel, spin track, or tip. The more you guess right the faster they fly across your screen and the wheel and energy rings can look so close together since they are zooming so fast Guess: It gives you a Facebolt, Energy ring, Wheel, spin track, or tip and you have to guess what beyblade it's from.

Story/Plot

The game was marketed as the bridge between Fury and Shogun but there is nothing about it that does that. It’s clearly set after Fury but you don’t know when. It plays out with you battling character after character shopping and mini gaming in between and then on turn 50 battling in a tournament and hoping you win and become the champion. There’s no story to it other than that no underlying plot or an evil villain you need to stop. Just battling and becoming champ.  

Talking to the character is fun but you don’t get anything else, no new secrets or facts about them. Also after you become champion the game just starts you over. You start back at turn 0 and have to do it all again and unlock everything again. The game does let you keep 25% of your beypoints the first time you beat it and 100% of them the 4th time if I remember correctly.  

Overall: It’s a good game if you prefer talking to characters over battling and story. You can still have fun with the battling system since strange things can happen with beys getting shot out or just spinning out. And the wonky gyro system can cause you to shoot your bey right out the ring which makes for some laughs. It’s a very repetitive game which isn't a bad thing inself just depends on what you like. The Metal Masters game was way better with a decent storyline and fun battle mechanics which I’ll review at a later time, and this game just fails to compete with the other beyblade games.  Of course you are allowed to like the game. I enjoyed it a fair bit, and there are really good parts in it. I just think it has so much more room to be better.

Another notes: Some characters that are mentioned to be in the game I have not seen at all such as Nile, and Zero from Shogun. There is a battle area where you just battle for fun that's not a part of the story. I have only done it once though. You are allowed to have two save files on it.

If you want to see more of it you can look through my blog I have it tagged as I play beyblade  also again I do not have gameplay footage of it but if it’s something that is requested or wanted I don’t mind recording it 

[imagine-loki]

Start Somewhere

TITLE: Start Somewhere CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One-shot (for now) AUTHOR: MaliceManaged ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine waking up to find Loki asleep in your bed. You have no idea how he got in, or how he didn’t wake you, but he looks completely exhausted and doesn’t even stir when you get up, so you kinda just leave him to it and get on with your morning. Maybe there’ll be an explanation later, maybe this will just be a weird story you tell your grandkids one day that they won’t actually believe; for now, though, you’ll just leave breakfast for the supervillain crashing in your bed and go to work before you’re late. RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS: Because I clearly don’t have enough going on, my brain gives me this. And before anyone yells at me for the ending, I will eventually write more for this. I have no idea when, but I will. XD

__________________

    There were several things Carmen might have expected upon opening her eyes that morning; finding herself staring at the sleeping face of someone who most definitely hadn’t been there when she went to bed was not one of them. Least of all finding herself staring at the sleeping face of Loki, of all people. Hadn’t the Avengers arrested him the other day? She was pretty sure she’d seen that on the news. She wasn’t really sure what he’d been doing that warranted arresting other than being in the general vicinity of the bad guys they’d been fighting, but that was none of her business. More pressing was the matter of the alleged supervillain deeply asleep in her bed.

      Very deeply asleep, she noticed, as he hadn’t even stirred when she’d shot up in her initial alarm. Actually, he looked exhausted; if the dark circles under his eyes were any indication, he wasn’t getting a whole lot of sleep. Which she supposed made some sense if he’d just broken out of prison. She really ought to call the Avengers, or at least the police so they could call the Avengers…

    She hadn’t realised she’d raised her hand and moved it towards him until she was lightly poking his cheek, and hastily pulled it back, holding her breath and watching him closely. But while his face did twitch the slightest bit at her touch, he didn’t wake. That pretty much made her decision for her; she got up and went about her morning routine as usual, if taking care not to make too much noise while getting ready for work. Maybe there would be explanations later, maybe this would just be one of those stories she’d tell her future grandchildren about that they would dismiss as ‘abuela being weird again’. Who knew? All she knew was she had better hurry up lest she be late for work. And so, she made breakfast for two and left a note for him on the counter before leaving the house.

  ****

      Loki was tired. There was no other way to look at it. He was completely exhausted; the kind of weariness that seeped into your bones, that weighed down your very soul. Tiredness that had not been helped by having to break out of the cell the Avengers had tossed him into, despite the fact that he hadn’t actually done anything, but alas. His plan had been to lay low for a while in the house he occasionally stayed in, but while some foggy part of his mind reasoned that the room he’d teleported into had just a little too much stuff in it, he’d been too tired to really care about the implications of that and simply got into the bed. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

      Upon awakening late the next morning, Loki noticed three things: 1) This was not his bedroom, 2) this was someone’s bedroom, and 3) that someone had been there with him, if the unmade section of bed beside him was any indication. And he’d slept through their being there and, more importantly, leaving. He was up and alert in moments, looking around for any signs of the house’s inhabitant, creeping silently out of the room and examining every doorway he passed carefully. Upon reaching the kitchen, he found a note on the counter informing him there was breakfast for him in the microwave and to help himself to anything in the fridge.

      Well, then. How curious.

      He considered it might be a trap - surely the house’s owner would have called the authorities upon finding a complete stranger, especially him, in their bed - but if it was, he could deal with it when it sprung. Tired as he still was, he could still manage that. Instead, he retrieved the indicated plate and sat down to a really quite delicious meal while pondering his next move.

  ****

      Carmen hadn’t really expected to find Loki still in her home when she got back from work, but there he was, sitting on her couch apparently waiting for her. She dropped her keys into the bowl by the door and hung up her coat in the coat closet, then walked over and sat on the other end of the couch.

      “You didn’t call anyone,” Loki more stated than asked.

      “I did not, no.”

      “Why not?”

      She shrugged. “You looked like you needed the rest. You weren’t really hurting anyone just sleeping.”

      “You made me breakfast.” That part he was still confused about.

      “I did, yes.”

      He frowned at the non-answers. “Why?”

      “I don’t know; made sense at the time.” She turned her head to look at him. “Why were you in my bed?”

      He considered lying, it would certainly be less embarrassing and wasn’t as though she’d be able to tell, but instead admitted, “I thought it was mine. I seem to have miscalculated my destination a bit.”

      She hummed. “Well, you probably shouldn’t be teleporting that tired, then.”

      He breathed a laugh despite himself. She wasn’t exactly wrong. “Noted.”

      “So, what happens now?”

      “Well, we have two options: I make you forget I was ever here and leave…” He let it hang there, curious whether she would then assume the worst.

      Instead, she calmly asked, “Or?”

      “I leave and we keep this our little secret,” he replied simply, strangely pleased she hadn’t taken the bait.

      She pretended to think about it. “I pick ‘b’.”

      He laughed. “‘B’ it is, then,” he said then stood, intending to leave.

      “Want to stay for dinner?” He stopped and looked at her a bit oddly, and she shrugged. “It’s more fun to cook for more than one person.”

      He thought for a moment, then decided, “If it pleases you.”

      She smiled then stood and went into her bedroom, grabbing some casual clothes before heading to her bathroom to wash up. She walked into the kitchen, pulling her hair into a ponytail, to find him sitting at the counter flipping through one of her grandmother’s recipe books curiously and she smiled a bit to herself. “Any requests?”

      “I’m not familiar with any of these things,” he admitted.

      “Well, then we need to broaden your culinary horizons,” she replied, taking out some pots and pans.

      “If it will be anything like that breakfast, I dare say I wouldn’t mind.”

      She chuckled. “Nothing like a proper dominican breakfast to get you up and about!”

      He watched her work as she got out ingredients and prepared a meal - pastelón, she called it, with rice and beans on the side - then joined her at the table. They ate in silence, but it was a pleasant sort of quiet, and he sat observing her curiously afterwards as she took their dishes to the sink to be dealt with later. She caught him at it when she turned around and raised a questioning eyebrow, and he rested his elbow on the table and propped his chin on his hand.

      “I’m merely wondering if you fear me at all,” he explained.

      “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m not at least a little worried, but you haven’t really given me reason to be afraid. I mean, all you’ve really done is trespass, but, assuming you were telling the truth, that was an accident.” She walked back to the table and retook her seat across from him. “You haven’t harmed me so far, and well… I’m not so sure I agree with the whole ‘getting arrested’ thing the other day. I mean, from the video I’ve seen of that mess, you didn’t seem to actually be doing anything.”

      “I was not, thank you for noticing,” he huffed, “But when you’re me, just being where something is happening is enough to damn you, apparently.”

      “That’s rough. What’re you going to do? They’ll probably be looking for you soon, if they aren’t already. Is it even safe for you to be on this planet at all?”

      “I’m not certain there is anywhere in this universe that is safe for me,” he replied vaguely, then smirked. “Is the lady concerned for my well-being?”

      “And if I am?” she challenged.

      “Then I can warn you that is both dangerous and a waste of time.”

      She hummed noncommittally. “If you say so.”

      He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need your pity,” he said sharply.

      That got him a very indelicate snort. “Good, ’cause you don’t have it.” He eyed her skeptically and she rolled her eyes. “It’s not pity to be concerned about someone else; that’s just being a decent person.”

      “That has not been my experience.”

      “Then you need to surround yourself with better people.”

      “Like you?”

      “Gotta start somewhere.”

      He laughed softly. What a strange woman. “Then I suppose I’ll have to get to know you, won’t I?”

[purplesurveys]

1188

Have you ever shared a shower or bath with someone as an adult? I did it a couple of times with a past girlfriend, but I’m honestly not a fan of it unless I’m somewhere with a serious lack of bathrooms and it’s the only choice available. I like my space when I get myself all cleaned up lol.

What kind of pizza toppings do you like?  Different kinds of cheeses do it for me, really. If I absolutely have to pick toppings, I do like bacon, bell peppers, barbecue chicken, or onions on my pizza.

When did you first take a shot of alcohol?  I have no idea, actually. Maybe 20? 21? I never noted the year down. I don’t even know the first shot I ever took...if I had to guess, it was probably tequila.

Did you babysit for money when you were in middle school? No. I babysat because I was the eldest daughter and granddaughter in an Asian household, haha.

Who is your favorite band? How long have they been?  Paramore; 17 years, have loved them for 14.

Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? Many times. She used to be a welcome guest.

Have you ever been to a spa?  I don’t think I’ve ever entered one, no. There’s been no reason to in the past.

When talking on the phone, do you place it against your left or right ear? Right. I don’t remember ever placing it on my left, come to think of it.

What’s your favourite Lunchables meal?  Idk, I’ve never had them. American thing, I’m guessing.

Do you like Bob Marley?  I don’t hold an opinion on him; I’ve never tried listening to his music.

Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Nope, I don’t know what that is, either.

Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family?  Yes, we have dinner together every night. We’ve been doing it since the start of the pandemic; and, with that, since my dad has had to stay at home since he can’t report to work anyway considering the situation. I imagine we’d be back to eating separately once he can report back to his job.

Are you listening to any music right now? If so, what are you listening to?  Yeah, I’m listening to Map of the Soul: 7 and UGH! just started playing. This is such a good FUCKING album it’s absolutely insane how good it is. Whatever spirit possessed BTS throughout 2019 to produce an album this unbelievable wasn’t playing.

Who was the last person to make you genuinely smile?  Hobi, since I rewatched the Run BTS segment where he called Conan O’Brien ‘Curtain.’

Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? No.

Do you like men who have a sensitive side?  I think it’s nice when anyone has a sensitive side and isn’t ashamed to be in touch and expressive with their emotions. Doesn’t have to apply to just guys.

Have you ever tried to get someone into a certain band/artist?  I don’t do that with any of my interests because I don’t want to potentially irritate or bore someone, or to potentially face the disappointment I’d feel when they don’t end up being enthusiastic about what I’m into. I’m totally okay with my interests just being My Thing, no need to drag other people into them.

Have you ever carved you and someone else’s initials into a tree?  Nopes.

Do you like Dairy Queen?  Just some items, like their Oreo Frappe or whatever it’s called. I’m not a big fan of ice cream cakes and I’ve never really explored their Blizzards.

Is there anyone you know with an amazing personal success story?  Andi.

Is there a song in a different language that you can sing? Well Filipino is my first language rather than English, so yes.

How do you feel about bands that use pyrotechnics in live concerts?  I’ve never experienced this other than One Direction using fireworks at the end of their concert here (and they weren’t launched from the stage either, but somewhere backstage), so I don’t really know what to feel about this other than they should just make sure they’re following safety protocols and standards to avoid mishaps.

Ever fallen down a hole?  I don’t think so.

Do you like bananas?  Not so much, but I don’t passionately hate it as much as I do other fruits. I do like some dishes that incorporate banana, like banana bread and banoffee pie. Recently I discovered Korean banana milk and it ended up tasting pretty good!

How long do you normally spend in the shower? Not even 10 minutes, usually. I've never understood how people can take such long showers. < Yeah, pretty much on the same page. The only times I take a while is if I feel like shaving, but otherwise I shower quickly. Maybe around 4–7 minutes at most.

Have you ever been a featured member on any website?  I don’t think that ever happened, at least when having featured members was still a thing.

Have you ever had any weird pets?  Nope.

Are you currently talking to/texting/instant messaging anyone?  I am not. Though I know I have unread messages from Andi...I just don’t feel like checking them right now.

Have you ever experienced insomnia?  Only when I was a teenager. It’s been a while since I’ve faced any trouble in trying to fall asleep.

Do you like egg nog? I’ve never had a chance to try it but it sounds delicious, and I would definitely take a sip the first opportunity I get.

Would you ever wear Converse with a prom/formal dress?  I don’t see why I would have to but if it’s just for funsies, it sounds pretty harmless so yeah, I would.

Do you prefer hot chocolate with or without marshmallows?  Withoooooooooout. I’ve never understood marshmallows.

How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over?  In a romantic sense, none. But I’ve cried for other reasons, like when I mourned over my grandpa and Nacho.

Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician?  Surgeon, since there’s a tiny part in me that had always wanted to take up med school.

Would rather be a musician or a painter? Painter, if anything. I’m not creative by any means, but I feel like I’d enjoy a lot more freedom with painting.

Would you rather write your own book or make your own movie? [continued from last night] Write my own book I suppose, but I could only work with non-fiction. I’d embarass myself if I had to write something not based off of real life.

At home, do you have a trampoline? No. But this reminds me of when we’d go to Rita’s place to have meetings whenever we couldn’t hold them in school. She’s the richest one out of all of us, lives in a very old money village, big-ass house, big-ass kitchen, big-ass receiving areas (plural)...and they also have a nice trampoline in their big-ass yard. We always used to horse around in there as soon as we were done with our meetings.

When you are about to go to bed, do you put on some sort of noise?  I used to put on a YouTube video that would entertain me enough to feel relaxed and eventually sleepy, but I haven’t done that in the last few weeks. These days I usually look for a fanfic to get absorbed in, then I read until my eyes start feeling heavy.

What is your favorite Christmas movie?  Love Actually or It’s A Wonderful Life.

And what about your favorite Christmas song?  It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas makes me feel festive and fuzzy.

What is your ultimate favorite stocking stuffer?  My family doesn’t really keep up with this tradition. I remember how our grandparents would fix up stockings for us when we were much younger, but they were usually filled with candy. 

After Halloween, do you sort out all of your candy into little piles?  I never collected candy for Halloween.

When you listen to music with headphones, do you keep the volume low enough to hear surrounding noise faintly, or do you blast it?  Depends. The rare times I’m working and do feel like putting headphones on, the volume has to be just decent enough so I can still focus. If I’m not doing anything else or at least doing something that doesn’t involve too much ~brain activity~, I like my music very loud.

What did you have for breakfast this morning?  It doesn’t really count as breakfast but I’m currently finishing off the remaining two pieces of McNuggets I got last night. 10 pieces is apparently too many for my appetite, haha.

What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet?  Cooper has probably been the biggest and heaviest so far.

Do you own any kind of helmet?  We have a bike helmet here at home, but it’s not exclusively mine.

Out of everything currently in your refrigerator, what food or drink is your favorite?  I don’t memorize the fridge so I can’t tell you my favorite food that’s currently in it; as for drink, I just stick to cold water.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?  Sprained ankle after I tripped at one of the parking lots in school.

Do you like the taste of cough syrup?  I’ve never had it.

What is something you like to have conversations about?  People with experiences vastly different from mine, because it lets me explore different perspectives. It’s why I always look forward to family reunions with one of my uncles - who’s a foreigner, from a very different country - since he’s able to share a lot of fun and reflective stories about his life and stuff he did in his youth, stuff I never got to experience and live through.

What all is in the trunk of your car?  The trunk used to be my trash can lmao, back when I was still driving everyday. My mom has since cleared it out since the beginning of the pandemic; I believe only a laptop bag is sitting there now.

Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? No. I don’t even eat either.

Is your heat or air conditioning currently on?  My electric fan is. I don’t turn on the aircon until the evening.

Have you ever fallen off of a horse?  Nopes.

Which do you value more, your appearance or your intelligence?  Both are important to me.

When was the last time you drove something other than a car or truck?  I don’t remember. I’ve only ever driven cars.

Were your grandparents present when you were born?  Neither set wasn’t in any of the photos from my birth, so I don’t think so...? My maternal grandparents definitely wouldn’t have been present, since my parents had been living in Manila then.

If you drink/smoke, how often do you do these things?  I vape...pretty much all day. I’m doing it while taking this survey. As for drink, I would say 1-2 times a month. Usually after a particularly grueling shift.

What do you think of fast food?  I love it. Unabashedly. I just don’t have them a lot because I don’t find it filling and the quality is obviously lower; but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the way fast food tastes.

What website do you spend the most time on and why?  Google Suite, if it counts. I work 5 days a week; it’s pretty much an extension of me at this point.

What’s the most amount of time you’ve spent online? Is this usual for you?  All day. I’m always using the internet to do things. I used to be embarrassed of it, but these days I feel like having a connection is virtually an essential.

When it comes to travel, what kinds of places intrigue you most? Museums, historical sites, cultural sites, and spots where they show you how they do practices native to the place. I’ve always been about immersing myself in the cultures of the places I visit.

What is the farthest you’ve walked in one day and what made you do it?  I remember having to walk for a very very very VERY long time when we were in Bali - my family wanted to explore more of the city - and the weather wasn’t cooperative at all, so I ended up feeling super cranky. I remember also walking around a lot in Shanghai, but that was a slightly better experience since the city was incredibly lively and there were a lot of things to see and stop at; not to mention the weather was also kinda pleasant. The cold was biting but I would always rather be too cold than walk around with sweat-soaked clothes.

What is something important that’s often on your mind lately?  Our financial situation what with Covid affecting both my parents’ jobs. We get by enough for me not to worry too much, but I also hope my dad can get called back to his ship soon just so I can finally exhale with relief.

What about something unimportant, but you can’t stop thinking about it?  My workplace recently introduced this workout challenge thingy for the month of May that we’re invited to join to encourage us to get fit and healthy. I get notifications whenever someone’s able to exercise for the day and it makes me feel super pressured hahahaha. Since I don’t wanna be known as a killjoy co-worker I know I’ll have to take part in it, which I will start on later.

Do you like oatmeal? If so, what kinds of things do you like in it?  No. Back in elementary my grandma made me eat oatmeal every day for breakfast before heading to school, so I don’t ever want to have another bowl of it.

What was going on the last time you felt nostalgic?  My family and I were having a conversation during dinner last night and for some reason it eventually veered towards mine and my sister’s experiences from our first school and how we managed to get up at 5 AM everyday, have classes from 7 AM–4 PM, then get home from anywhere between 5–6 PM for 14 years straight. How tf did we do that and never complain???

How much attention do you pay to the movements of the stars and planets, and do you believe they influence anything?  None.

What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played?  While I love watching playthroughs, I am not skilled at video games at all and in most video games I’ve played I never made it past the first mission, unless I was playing a Nintendo game that’s already marketed for kids in the first place lol.

Which accent do you find most sexy, alluring or appealing?  There’s a certain British accent I find very pleasant to listen to, but since I know there are a lot of variations I’m just not sure which one it is. I guess an accurate point of reference would be Hugh Grant’s or Florence Pugh’s accent.

Which accent do you find most annoying, disturbing, or bothersome?  None of them.

Can you cry on cue? Is it any kind of useful?  Nope.

Does it take you a while to actually get jokes?  Sometimes.

Can you wear socks to bed or does it annoy you?  I don’t really like the feeling of socks, so no. I find them a bit itchy, and too tight.

Have you ever bleached your hair?  Never done it before.

Do you like jelly beans?  Erm, it would depend on the flavor, I guess. But they aren’t so much my snack of choice. The texture is a bit weird.

Do you have trouble sleeping when it’s storming?  Not at all, I feel a lot cozier when it’s raining hard.

Who was the last person you know that graduated? (high school or college)  Sofie posted her graduation photo not too long ago, so probably her.

Were you happy or sad when you found out your babysitter was coming?  I never had a babysitter because I was the babysitter.

Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten?  No. I went to an all-girls school, so I didn’t even get to interact with a lot of boys until the middle of high school.

Did you ever read the Magic Treehouse series?  Nope.

Who was your best friend in elementary school?  Angela. I was also friends for a long time with a girl named Jaynie, with whom I actually started to reconnect ever since she found out I was now into BTS. I find it so cool; I don’t think I’ve talked to her since the 2nd grade, 15 years ago.

Did you ever watch The Land Before Time movies?  I didn’t.

Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Stickers. I'd put them on my dresser everywhere to the point it was absolutely covered. < Literally this entire answer; I don’t have any clue how my overly neat mom managed to never spank me for destroying her closet. I also liked collecting Pokemon cards and pogs even though I never knew how to use them. It just felt nice having large stacks of them lol.

Did you get an allowance?  Not until high school. My grandma (and eventually househelp, when we moved) fixed up packed lunches for me and my siblings. When my mom decided to stop having house helpers at home, that’s when she started giving us an allowance to buy recess and lunch ourselves.

Were you into American Girl dolls?  I was never into dolls in general. Since my sister and I were the only girls at home, we were surrounded by toys marketed for boys and that’s what I enjoyed playing with more.

Were you friends with your childhood neighbors?  We played with the neighborhood kids every afternoon but I wouldn’t call them friends. I was a very shy kid and I found them too rowdy for my liking, especially the boys.

What was your biggest fear when you were a kid?  Flying cockroaches. It’s still one of them.

Did you ever play the "Reader Rabbit" computer games?  I don’t think so.

Did your parents let you drink soda growing up? I’m pretty sure they would’ve allowed me to, but I just never liked the feeling of fizzy drinks so I never drank soda anyway.

What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid?  I think I liked mocha sponge cakes growing up, but that has changed now.

[soyouareandrewdobson]

100 followers special post: KorraSami Book 1

Today’s entry (sort of a little extra for 100 followers) is rather short and admittedly just the tip of an iceberg I want to tackle later on, as it relates to a certain issue with Dobson in general when it comes to his “support” of the LGBT community. In addition it is not a comic I want to talk about, but rather a picture. To be more precise this one:

Titled “Out of our way” and released around summer of 2015, this picture is obviously fanart in relation to KorraSami, the ship of Avatar Korra and Asami Sato, which unlike other ships in certain fandoms became even canon according to “Word of God” and some post tv series material. Now personally my opinion on KorraSami is a bit “complicated”. I do not hate it nor do I really think it is as “groundbreaking” as many, including Dobson, make it out to be. Reasons for that I am willing one day to discuss in detail, but not now.

And like with KorraSami, my opinion on the picture is also a bit complicated. To paraphrase John Cleese from a famous sketch: I may not know much about art, but I know what I like. So when it comes to things such as posture and linework I can not give too many critical details.

However, even I see from a technical point a few irksome details. Like how Asami’s hips move a bit too much perspective wise to the left, making it look like she would soon slip off the wheelchair, the sparks on the ground looking more like someone inserted shitty fries via MS Paint in the picture and Korra’s face looking like it was hit with a frying pan at least once. But honestly, I think it does not look that terrible and it is at least colorful.

That said, I think it highlights a certain issue with how Dobson perceives the ship.

Independent of my thoughts on the ship, I think Korra and Asami are pretty neat characters personality wise. They are both not flawless (in fact, Korra at the start of season 2 felt like any character development from last season was missing and don’t get me even started on how she would have almost started a world war because she was a whinny ass) but they are pretty strong and independent characters who went through a lot both as friends and as individuals over the course of the show. Well, that and they boned the same guy.

The thing with Dobson is, any time I see him do something with those two, that sort of badassery is not really on display. Instead his KorraSami fanart tends to be just whimsical fluff as seen e.g. here

And don’t get me wrong, I do not think fluff is bad. I like cute pics too and hey, the following two pics in regard of KorraSami by Dobson count for me as decent fluff, even if from a technical drawing point there are likely still flaws in the pic. Mostly because they are also related as pics to the world of the show they are part of, with the first one even showing interaction with someone other than the ship.

 But I also think that just because you ship two or multiple characters, doesn’t mean you can’t also draw something of such characters as a power couple so to speak. In case of those two, perhaps something like fighting a group of Equalists, showing Asami building and working on something with Korra at her side metal binding something according to Asami’s instructions etc. You know, something that is both “cute” because in a way they do stuff as a couple, but also badass because it is about two characters doing something they were born for. Or not even necessarily badass. Just something that shows them in a situation that isn’t just mindless fluff or feels like you just randomly insert the characters into whatever you can think of, thinking that in itself makes it already shipping art.

 Bottomline, Dobson when tackling KorraSami only focuses mostly on the mindless fluff of the ship. Which in my opinion is in so far an issue, as that it reduces this so called “groundbreaking LGBT representation in animation” just further down into something cute and rather shallow Dobson can adore. The characters are not appreciated for their personality, but fo their looks and how cute they look together. And frankly, can something be considered “good representation” when it is just pretty shallow on closer look?

This at least is one of multiple issues I have with KorraSami in general, but also in relation with Dobson. Others I can address later on someday. I also bring it up here mostly, because this “shallowness” is indirectly on display in “Out of our way” once you know a bit about why Dobson drew this and how it may even be a bit insensitive. Not for any living creature, but the character of Korra actually.

See, here is the thing: The inspiration for the pic was two things: A clip from an anime called Gekijouban To Aru Majutsu no Railgun (which I admittedly never saw in my life and do not necessarily intend to) as seen here

 And the fact that Korra spends some time in a wheelchair over the course of the show. And considering that the scene from the anime is actually meant to be funny (as it actually ends with both characters crashing in the gras in a hilarious position), what sort of cartoonish antics resulted in Korra temporarily being in a wheelchair? Did she slip on water during waterbending? Break her leg in some heroic fight but took it in strife and even made fun of her situation? You want to know?

Korra was kidnapped, tortured, poisoned with mercury and almost killed by a group of four terrorists, resulting in her being physically crippled for a long time and suffering from mental trauma, depression and PTSD.

……..ehhhhhhhh….. Funny?

 Yeah, on a technical level I do not think the picture is the worst, but as “fanart” when you consider any canon context involving wheelchairs and Korra… yaiks. I mean, tone deaf is a bit of an understatement.

 And I am not making this up. The plot of season 3 of Legend of Korra involved a group of four elemental benders trying to kill Korra, because their leader thinks that if he kills her he can break the Avatar cycle and that in turn will bring in a new era where people take their lives as a whole in their own hands, instead of the fate of the world depending on a few chosen ones like the Avatar. To do so they kidnap Korra and poison her with mercury, which they forcefully bend into her body. This results in her going full avatar mode and fighting the main villain Zaheer, only to get her ass handed by him thanks to the poison and him almost suffocating her by bending the air out of her lungs. Korra was in fact closer to death than any other character I have seen in the show, including Aang. And the aftermath of Zaheer’s actions were horrible. Season 3 ended with Korra still recovering from the poison (which had been bended out of her body again), by being stuck in a wheelchair and it being obvious she needs to get through rehabilitation. And while she did put on a brave face in front of everyone, the final shot of the episode is her at a ceremony celebrating the air nations rebirth, a single tear going down her cheek, indicating that in a way she is broken. The hotheaded and overall determined Korra at her lowest point.

 I will openly admit, when I first saw that scene, I was taken aback a bit how bittersweet if not outright depressing the ending was. Begging the question, how by the time season 4 would roll in, Korra would have recovered. Turned out, not well. Not only was season 4 set three years after the events of the last one, but the first two episodes showed among other things how Korra went through rehabilitation in those years, how she was on more than one occasion on the brink of giving up and how she essentially went into hiding, not wanting to meet her friends again, abandoning her duties as the Avatar. She was not a sobbing mess, but she was broken. Not considering herself worthy of the title of avatar for the longest time and still suffering from physical and mental trauma because of what had happened to her. In fact, one of the better aspects of season 4 is how Korra tries to overcome her own trauma, in order to be strong enough to take on the fight against Kuvira before she can turn the Earth Kingdom completely into the Third Reich and take Republic City over.

 In short, the picture of Korra in a wheelchair has a pretty significant and dramatic meaning for the character and the show as a whole. It is an important aspect of te shows storytelling and Korra’s final part of her character arc. Something with gravitas a lot of fans acknowledge. But Dobson sees it supposedly as something that gives way for a “badass and fun” pic with his favorite ship. And again, in my opinion, that is just tone deaf.I am not saying you can’t make a KorraSami pic with the wheelchair, but I think something with that motive should out of respect for the actual canon and its characters also be more somber than what we got here.

Which brings me back to how Dobson handles the couple in a shallower manner than it needs to be. Cause if he wasn’t just out for whimsical fun and fluff with his two favorite lesbians from Nickelodeon and would Korra and Asami consider more than just something to fawn upon based on looks, he could have drawn something more meaningful that genuinely showed how both are a decent representation of an LGBT-couple and interesting individuals. Cause being a couple when everything is fun and sunshine is one thing. Being there for each other when things are hard? THAT is the challenge and shows how much you really love someone.

[snowdice]

The Horror of Stereotypes (Bonus Features)

Want to know what I’m blathering on about? Click below!

AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Title in my Word Documents: The first draft is just Dice Fic 6 since this was supposed to be a one-shot for my dice rolls… I got excited. The final draft is in a file called Stereotypes are Dangerous which now is for this story as well as things related to the possible sequel.

Technical Writing Facts:

I wrote this whole thing in one day. I don’t know what possessed me. You can see my decent into madness here. It was just… such an interesting concept.

I started making an outline about 3,000-4,000 words in. If you’d like to know how my chaos brain works, you can see said outline below.

Outline

I. Remus gets to the place. We get background. He meets Logan.

II. Remus and Logan settle into their jobs. We talk to “Gavin.” Eventually they talk.

III. They get information from a restricted area during the night. They almost die.

IV. They know where their people are and make a plan.

V. They execute the plan. “Gavin” isn’t actually a dick.

VI. They drive off into the sunset and get to know each other a bit. End story.

That’s it. That’s the outline. It is all of the planning I did for the story.

I realized a bit too late that I should have foreshadowed Gavin’s real identity a little bit better than I did, but he wasn’t supposed to have quite as many speaking lines as he ended up having. It was less supposed to be a dramatic twist and more supposed to be an oh-hey-coolio kind of moment, but then a certain snake inserted himself more prominently into the narrative during editing and also made the possible sequel all-about-me.

Character Facts:

All of the sides exist and are sympathetic in this AU.

The ships and soulmate groups of this universe (if you didn’t read the dice roll initiation post) are Logan/Remus/Patton (clearly) and Deceit/Roman/Virgil.

Remus:

He actually will become a published horror writer in the future. While his stories, when he was young often turned people off with how dark and horrifying they were, the tone shifted a bit once he met his soulmates. Patton especially influenced his writing because after his experiences, Patton sometimes likes to indulge in darker media as a coping method but insists that these stories always end happy. They’ll stay up late and Remus will tell him stories when he can’t sleep but will always give them a soft ending. When he starts publishing these stories under a pseudonym, people like that, despite how dark and horrible they can get, there’s always a bit of hope, a bit of love, and an ending that is kind and worth the struggle to get there.

He has an intricate geometric pattern for a soulmark that spans his lower back for Logan and a simple rose with thorns on his forearm for Patton.

Logan:

Logan has a degree in engineering, but also dabbles in a bunch of things like philosophy and history.

Before he even got his soulmarks he was a bit skeptical of the validity of the social biases he saw around him. He actually was more worried he’d end up with no soulmate than with multiple ones and was very surprised on his 18th birthday.

The only person who knew he had more than one soulmate before this story was Patton. He didn’t dare tell anyone, even his family. He’s actually pretty conflicted about this because his younger brother is pretty vocally anti-multi. The thing is, he really loves his brother, but he doesn’t know how to rectify the two things.

He has a butterfly soulmark on his wrist for Patton and an infinity sign embarrassingly far up on his inner left thigh for Remus (actually pretty lucky for him because there aren’t many situations where it’s visible).

Patton:

He always knew the world was wrong. Always.

Patton’s soulmarks are in the best and worst locations. They are right next to each other. So close, in fact, that when he got them, he and everyone around him assumed they were one soulmark. Until his best friend, Logan, touched him later that day and the book on his calf filled in and the star right above it… didn’t. Our other characters can easily hide one of their soulmarks, but it’s really hard for Patton to do. To get a job, to get a bank loan, to get on some forms of transportation, you have to show people your soulmark, but if Patton tried to show off either, the person would see both.

Because of his soulmark situation, he lived off the books for most of his adult life. He didn’t go to college or get a job. He really couldn’t go out much at all. He wasn’t even on the lease of the house he and Logan shared. It really sucked for him.

He always wanted to open a bakery.

He was caught before the beginning of the story on a random sweep just walking down the middle of the street. The police officers assumed he didn’t have a soulmark because he refused to show them one. This situation, if true, would have made it illegal for him to have bought the groceries he had, but of course, the truth was discovered pretty quickly after he was put into custody.

On the plus side, after he met Remus, the soulmarks again look like one soulmark so he’s the one least in danger.

Roman:

Roman was in basically the same position as Remus about just accepting social biases without thinking about them before he got his own soulmarks. He had a rougher time overcoming these ingrained biases than Remus did.

Part of him becoming an EMT was to prove to himself that he wasn’t bad or heartless.

Most people in his life didn’t even know that he got picked up for having more than one soulmark. They don’t like to make a fuss out of arresting people if they are well liked in their community which Roman was as a personable person who was well known for acting and also spent time trying to help people as an EMT.

Roman has a soulmark on the left side of his neck of a small bird for Virgil. He has to be careful to wear high necked shirts and also usually covers it up in makeup. He has a lizard that wraps up and around his forearm for Deceit.

He was turned in before the beginning of the story because a woman he did CPR on saw the one on his neck while he was distracted making sure she was okay. She reported him.

Deceit:

Yes. Gavin was Deceit.

Though our perspective character isn’t aware of this fact, not all of society is 100% down for what’s going on. There are underground movements working to sabotage places like the government facility the boys escaped from in this story. Deceit is part of one of these movements and has been working with them since he was 16 (His mom has multiple soulmates; his father was not an asshole that reported his own soulmate, thank you very much). He’s very good at espionage.

He was really worried about who this mad man was when he first met Remus which is why he was sort of clinging all over him and trying to get in good with him by going with whatever he said and flattering him. Of course, he didn’t fall for the bathroom trick and followed him back to the office secretly where he promptly figured out what was going on with him.

Also, the guard that almost caught Remus and Logan downstairs did actual report them, but Deceit managed to intercept because he has pretty high ranking at the facility.

He does 100% manage to get off scot free after this story because he’s just that good at lying. He actually was surprised that helping the two idiots ultimately was a good thing for him and his mission. Logan left him all of the stuff he’d downloaded which was helpful. Also, turns out, he was helping save his own soulmate from the place so… he ends up really glad he impulsively decided to help them instead of letting them fail to complete his more important mission.

He has a soulmark on his face which looks like scales (come on, we all know I have to do it) courtesy of Roman and a spider one on the back of his neck for Virgil.

Virgil:

Virgil has a soulmark that looks like vines and wraps around his palm and up his thumb for Deceit. He has a dragonfly on his shoulder for Roman.

Virgil is a journalist. He’s made a name for himself and the government likes him because he’s willing to report what they ask and ignore what they don’t want the public to know. He’s even allowed to tour some of the upper levels of facilities like the one the rest of the characters were in during this story and publishes very censured articles about them.

Virgil also runs a secret blog called The Nothing. People assume that the person who runs the blog who goes by Nobody14 must be someone without any soulmarks especially because of the makeup tutorials teaching people how to make convincing looking ones. He also shows how to cover them up well. Lately he’s been getting pictures from anonymous sources from inside secured government facilities that show some concerning things the public aren’t supposed to know about.

Virgil Berry and Nobody14 have a very public feud going on that has dragged The Nothing into public view. Virgil Berry rants and raves and denies all claims that Nobody14 makes and Nobody14 gives scathing, but calm replies on his blog. These interactions start about a year after this story

Oh, is “Berry” Logan’s surname? Huh.

Want to read more? Click below!

My Master Post

[aquietwritingcorner]

Whumptober 2020 Day 3: Running Out of Time—Caged/Buried Alive/Collapsed Building Word Count: 1480 Author: Katie/Ally (aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl)   Rating: T Characters: Vato Falman Summary: Falman really does get the worst assignments.   Notes: If I had been a very diligent writer, I’d have looked up some science/math stuff about how fast air runs out. I am not that diligent of a writer, it seems.

 Quantity of Air

 Air took up space. That was a fact. It was one of many facts that Vato Falman knew. Air took up space, and anything that took up space had a quantity to it. That was another fact that he knew. Normally the quantity of air was not something that Falman thought about, beyond the fact that it was, well, a fact. Air was, typically, in plentiful supply. The quality of the air could easily be in question, but it was, still, there, and typically plentiful. There were only a few situations where one had to worry about the quantity of air that they had.

Which, unfortunately, was the type of situation Falman found himself currently in.

Despite being in the military, patrols had never been Falman’s favorite part of duties. In fact, most of the duties that were required he didn’t really care for. He did them because, well, they were his duty. Every so often he got assigned a duty that he enjoyed. His favorite, by far, had come from then-Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, who had ordered him to go read books on any and every subject he could in the library every Thursday. That had been back when he had worked for the man for a brief period of time and it had been his favorite duty. He had looked forward to those days. He had thought that his least favorite duty had been when he was babysitting Barry the Chopper. That assignment had been days of awful and it had ended awfully. Honestly, there was only one way that whole situation could have ended worse, and that was if someone (aside from Barry) had actually died. And while that duty still ranked up there in terms of his worst duties, it turned out, there were other equally as bad duties.

And Falman was pretty sure they all existed at Briggs.

Patrol was one of the duties that they all rotated in and out of. Not everything that happened at Briggs happened in the fort. The fort was the main hub up this far, farther north than even Northern Command, but there were still plenty of places to patrol, and outposts that needed supplies. (He wasn’t entirely certain that he wouldn’t mind an assignment to an outpost. You sit in a cabin all day long, warm and cozy, and watch for signs of Drachma. He was sure there was other unpleasantness to it, but still, it didn’t sound half bad). Every so often everyone took a turn going on patrol to in the mountains and going on supply missions to the cabins. It was, it seemed, a routine mission, despite Falman having been warned not to treat anything in the Briggs Mountains as routine.

There may have been something to that.

It was clear from the moment it came in sight, that something had happened at this outpost. The cabin itself looked like there had been a fight, with an open and busted up door, windows that were cracked and falling, and signs in the snow of fighting. The soldier who was supposed to be there was nowhere to be found, either, and, beyond the signs of a fight, there were no clues as to what had happened to him. All of this was very concerning, and the team had fanned out to search for him. Falman, being the new guy and therefore inexperienced, was ordered to stay at the cabin in case the soldier—or someone or something else—came back. Nervously, Falman did so, although he was more than a little worried about the someone or something else that could come back. The only good parts was that the cabin provided some shelter from the biting wind.

He never should have let his guard down.

That protection had been a false promise. There had been a loud booming somewhere above him and the sound of the other men yelling. Falman had turned to look, only to look in horror as an avalanche of snow came his way. An although he had a plethora of facts about avalanches and what you were supposed to do if you were caught in one in his head, there was no time to work through them. The best he could do was to duck back inside the cabin and brace himself.

The next few minutes had been disorienting to say the least, with sounds and snow and force and cold and movement, and when things had finally settled down, he was in darkness, with a great weight pressing down on his legs, the rest of him free. It was dark, too dark to see, and he tried to work his way loose. But when he tried to move too much, there was an ominous creaking around him, and he stopped, not sure exactly what that meant, but having some pretty decent guesses. He still had his pack on, and he had managed to get to his tender, and lit a match, hoping to see, well, something hopefully.

The light didn’t improve his situation any.

He was still in the cabin. Only, the cabin wasn’t all there. It was mangled and partially (mostly?) collapsed around him. He himself was stuck under a mix of fallen in cabin and avalanche snow. The only upside he could see to this, was that he had a longer time to wait for a rescue, because he had more air then if he’d been in a small pocket. But that wasn’t really much of an upside. Especially when he could calculate about how much air he’d have and about how long of a time span that might be.

It was enough to make him want to panic, which would really not help the situation in the slightest. Instead, he started a countdown in his head and did everything he could to reduce the amount of oxygen he would be using. He tried to free his legs, again, for a moment, but they were stuck tight, and digging them out, he figured, would cost more air then it was worth. So, instead he laid there.

He turned on no light, because that would also use up oxygen.

He didn’t try to free himself because that would use up oxygen.

He did move too much, because that would use up more oxygen.

He didn’t cry out, or cry, or scream, because that would use up more oxygen.

Instead, Falman laid very, very still and very, very quiet, listening for the sounds of what might be a rescue, and not entirely sure that he believed that one would come.

And in his head, he counted down the time until he ran out of breathable air.

He wished he could say that he lost track of time, but he knew exactly how long he had been laying under that snow. He knew that his time was dwindling, and that he only had about five minutes left. He was already feeling lightheaded and dizzy, when he heard what sounded like the sounds of scraping or footsteps. He shook himself more awake, forced himself to be more aware, and listened again.

It was people! But Briggs, or Drachma? Then again, did it really matter as long as he was alive? No, not in his book. He only had a little air left, though. He had no idea if they could see this half-collapsed cabin in the snow or not. He only hand a little air left. If they passed him by—

Well, he’d be dead before they came back. Might as well try to get their attention, even if it would use up what oxygen he had left faster.

Falman opened his mouth, took in a breath, and tried to channel the energy of Breda freaking out of Hayate. “Help!” he yelled. “Help! Help, I’m trapped! Help me!”

It was hard to hear anything when he was yelling, and the extra lack of oxygen was making him dizzy. But this was his last shot, and he knew it. He yelled out again, anyway, hoping, praying for a response or for someone to hear him. Mercifully, there was a shout back, and even in Amestrian.

“Hang on! We’ll get you out!”

He was getting dizzier. He needed to let them know how dire the situation was. “Hurry!” he shouted back. “I think… I’ve only got a couple of minutes of air!”

There was a pause, and then the digging seemed to intensify as suddenly what sounded like several people were above him. He could hear orders being shouted, and reassurances being called to him.

Falman laid his head back down. It was still dark. He was still cold. He only had a couple of minutes of air left. But he was going to be rescued, and that meant, if nothing else, he hadn’t failed the Colonel. With a sigh of relief, Falman relaxed, and waited.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About the MCU (Phase Three Part One)

...I’m gonna have to split this one into two parts. Because Phase three is when these movies start getting good, and which in turn results in my have a LOT to talk about. So, here’s the first half of this phase.

10th place: Captian Marvel (6/10)

This is not the worst MCU movie. This isn't even close to the worst thing in the MCU. THAT honor goes to Inhumans, which might just be the most boring TV show that I ever had the displeasure of watching. And if you're a person who only counts the movies as part of the MCU, then there is no way you can look me in the eye and tell me that Captain Marvel is worse than Thor: The Dark World. Because this movie actually has better action, a handful of funny moments, a decent (albeit predictable) story, a fantastic tribute to Stan Lee, and Goose the Cat. Who is free from any criticism due to being equal parts adorable, hilarious, and awesome.

However, there is one major issue that this movie has, and that is Brie Larson's Captain Marvel. Before you say anything, no, it's not because she barely smiles (shut it, if you think that's actually the problem). The problem is that I just don't know what they want her character to be. Is she meant to be playful yet mysterious, like Marceline from Adventure Time? Is she meant to be a stoic badass with a deadpan sense of humor like Garnet from Steven Universe? Or is she supposed to be this perfect hero with witty remarks like Kim Possible from Kim Possible? Because at times, it feels like the people behind this movie are trying to do all three personalities at once, which makes the character feel disjointed. Plus, it's probably not a good thing that I listed three female characters in children's shows better than this character in this movie for teens and adults. Nor is it a good thing that every actor, including the males, act circles around Brie Larson, who is known for giving Oscar-worthy performances. Still, I'm willing to allow the benefit of the doubt that this issue will be solved in time for Captain Marvel 2, as it took both Captain America and Thor a while before they finally became fan favorites. For now, while Captain Marvel is nowhere near the worst, I wouldn't exactly jump the gun and call it the best, either.

9th place: Doctor Strange (6/10)

This movie is somehow both memorable and forgettable at the same time. The visuals alone help make Doctor Strange memorable, seeing the world bend and morph in a way that is best experienced on the most gigantic screen you can find. The visuals even lend to making the fight scenes unforgetable, resulting in action that's hard to forget. It's still just punching and kicking, but the way this movie uses punching and kicking that makes it fun to watch. Such as having Strange fight wizards as astral projections, or while the world is reversing in on itself, dodging debris as it puts itself back into place. Plus, that ending is not only the most unique defeat of a bad guy that any MCU movie has done, but it also proves how selfless Doctor Strange can be as a hero. So I won't be able to forget bits and pieces of this movie...but I can easily forget everything else. The jokes, plot, characters, and especially the villain are things I tend to lose track of on each rewatch. Which might honestly be worse than it sounds. Because while it's still a fun movie that I recommend, it's not a good thing that I constantly forget it, even as I'm writing this.

8th place: Ant-Man and the Wasp (7.5/10)

How is Ant-Man and the Wasp a dividing movie for MCU fans? People either really hate it or just think it's ok, and I don't get that. Because personally, I think this movie is really good. Yeah, there are leaps in logic, and the ending is a huge cop-out, especially since this movie came after Avengers: Infinity War. But I think Ant-Man and the Wasp incredibly improve upon the original with a tighter story and better-written characters, who all have great personalities and fantastic chemistry. Sure, these characters fall flat during certain dramatic moments, but really succeed when written for comedy. My personal favorite is Cassie, who might just be my favorite little girl character in fiction. She admires her father for everything he does, going so far as to smile with glee as he's wreaking shop in the finale. 

Speaking of her father, I really love how Ant-Man and the Wasp differentiate Scott Lang from the rest of the Avengers. In a world of gods and supersoldiers, you have Ant-Man, who's basically just a regular guy. The best example that shows how it that montage of him doing stuff while under house arrest. If any of our other heroes were in this situation, they would take advantage of the time to train, build cool s**t, and maybe even meditate. But for Scott? He wastes time singing karaoke, practicing close-up magic, and crying himself to sleep while reading The Fault in our Stars. It's a great way of showing how he's a little fish in the world's biggest pond. And I like that.

This movie may not be perfect, but every now and again, it's nice to get something small-scale (get it) and personal within the grand adventures in the MCU.

7th Place: Captain America: Civil War (8/10)

There are three camps of people who argue about this movie. The first camp is the people who fight about whether this is a Captain America movie or an Avengers movie. The second camp is the people who disagree on how Captain America: Civil War is the same as Batman v. Superman-Dawn of Justice. The third and final camp argues whether or not the movie is better than the comics. And I'm about to address each and every one of these camps.

First off, this is an Avengers movie. Captain America may take a more primary role, but consider that Thanos is easily the main character in Avengers: Infinity War, and how that movie isn't called Thanos: Infinity War. The fact that Cap barely takes center stage kind of ruins this being his movie, which is why it's arguably the worst Captain America movie by default, but that doesn't change how good this is. Mostly because it's easily a better Avengers movie than Age of Ultron.

As for how this movie is the same as Batman v. Superman, I can tell you right now that it isn't. They're similar in concept, I'll give you that, but their differences meet with the execution of said concepts. Yes, both movies have two people with different ideas fighting it out due to heroes causing collateral damage while inadvertently doing what an evil mastermind, with a tediously complicated plan, expects them to do. But you wanna know what Civil War has that BvS doesn't? Comedy. Marvel's ability to laugh at itself, to realize that what they're making shouldn't be taken too seriously, is what makes it worth the watch. Every. Time. Plus, I find it hilarious that a movie with four times the amount of superheroes manages to give each character a proper story and subplot than the film with just three.

This leads me to my third point: The movie is much better than the comics. Would it have been more awesome to see the number of characters we have now battle it out than seeing the relatively small one in this movie? Maybe. But look at Infinity War and Endgame. As good as those movies are, there were still many characters that got the short end of the stick. By keeping the cast small, Civil War gives each hero time to have an understandable motivation to pick one side or the other while giving each of their stories a proper conclusion. Even Black Panther and Spider-Man, introduced in this movie as sequel bait, still somehow manage to have clear motives and satisfying stories. Plus, where the comics make it hard to pick a side between Captain America and Iron Man because both made awful decisions after awful decisions, the movie makes it hard to pick and choose because both have to make hard decisions. Both Cap and Iron Man have clear reasons for their choices as well as hesitations. But they still see the point of view of the opposing side and try to talk things out. Which makes things all the more heartbreaking when they finally disagree. Something that never happened in the comics even once.

Overall, Captain America: Civil War is a great movie. It may not entirely be a Captain America movie, and the villain's plan is, again, tediously complicated. But it's still good because it understands the importance of characters and even a sense of humor. Which is something that I wish I could say about Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice.

6th place: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 (9/10)

It's not every day that the sequel is better than the original, let alone being equally good. And yet, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 is just as fun as its predecessor, if not a smidge better. Everything that I love about the first movie is here in spades, with a few improvements added to the appeal. Like the visuals, which not only have the colors and gradient turned up to thousand, but there are also some spectacular shots that at times look like they could be panels in a comic book. Plus, Ego the Living Planet is a much better villain than Ronan ever could be. Ego's motivations are typical, but his charming personality creates a character that's fun to watch while also showing how dangerous a person like Ego could be when his true motivations are revealed. Although, despite improvements, there are still some elements that Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 takes away. Because while most of the jokes are funny, there are some scenes where it's hard to tell if I'm supposed to be laughing or feeling emotional. Also, I just hate what they did to Drax in this movie. In the first one, he was a stoic badass with a deadpan sense of humor. Here, he's written as a dumb a**hole who gets one emotional scene. And it's a powerful one, sure, but it's not enough. Still, I love this movie. If I had to pick which one is better, I would probably say it's Vol 2, but even then, it's a close race, in my opinion.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And that’s all for now. Here’s part two.