#there's SO MANY things I want to say about this scene

[jez-bez]

If I let you go, can you go back to your room and sleep? [...] Phu. I think... I can help you. Phukan. I've already warned you. You've done it for me before. I just... want to do it for you too. Can I?

[angelsndragons]

so my forever gm needed a break. given that this was my only in-person game and i wanted to retain that connection to my community, i volunteered to run the next campaign so she could take a break and just enjoy playing.

i decided to go with a module i knew, having been a pc in it a few years prior: storm king's thunder. i took her copy of the book and started reading.

and nearly threw it through a window in frustration.

for those of you who don't know, the core giant races in the book are very star trek hat-esque. they have Their Thing and that's it. almost all of the giant npcs are evil and out to destroy the world of smallfolk using their delegated hats. there was a shakespearean drama happening at certain points behind the scenes but nothing else in the book supported that level of complexity with the giants or with the scripted encounters in the book. okay so you're telling me a small goblin tribe has holed up in a cave system and when a bunch of villagers flee into said cave, they...take them all prisoner and go raid their village? after learning that the villagers were fleeing from a giant attack on said village? after learning that most of the guards are still in the village proper, defending the broken keep? really? nah, man, that's just not engaging with the goblins as a culture and people.

i think the worst offenders are the hill giants. they're given heinously low soft stats, are treated as nothing more than glutinous sacks of hit points, and they're the fucking butt of the joke. two hill giants can't navigate their way back to their home base after an attack (meaning that the players can't use said hill giants to scout and find the place either). they're tricked at every interval. the big hill giant plot is for the chief to eat literally any and all food her minions can bring her so that she'll grow to be the biggest giant in existence. yes, she too is treated like the butt of a joke for daring to think that that plan is good or viable. she's so fat (and the book goes into this over and over) that she can no longer walk and the wagon she's seated on is broken and hasn't been repaired. she is in fact so fat and so stupid that she forgets that she has a macguffin the party needs. oh and the book goes into great detail about how slovenly and disgusting her place is and then has the nerve throw in a "overbearing wife beats and bullies her husband" joke in there just to round out the misery. this whole ass culture of bad guys is treated like they are goddamn animals, not people.

needless to say i have chucked a great deal of this. the goblins are practical survivalists (we are small and easily squished, if we can't hide we go along until we can escape) and when ogres and giants moved in, they decided to follow orders to gather food right up until the party gives them a legitimate out. thanks to their intervention, this group of goblins are off the board as future enemies and will in fact be appearing as occasional help (one of my players decided they liked the goblins so much that they created a new character to be from that group).

the hill giants now have traditions surrounding food preparation and preservation that go back thousands of years and much of the small folk's current tech in that department is based off of hill giant innovations, which the party is learning about. their ancestors sleep in the hilly regions of the world, growing and growing together, their sometimes living bodies make up the very ground that the small folk walk on and find nourishment from. the hill giants, along with their stone and cloud brethren, are the only giants who remember that giants become one with the land. one amongst many slowly dying giant races and they choose to, well, not embrace it but find peace in it. they're still gullible and still view size as incredibly important but one's skill in the culinary arts can propel them to leadership. chief guh is a culinary visionary who perfected the art of preparing dragon meat and as giants and dragons are enemies beyond memory, that is quite the feat. will the party come to blows with her? i mean, maybe. but at least she and her people won't end up as 'dumb, slow, fat' person jokes.

framing is so important you guys. it's work but it is so worth it. i had my players spitting nails at the racist, isolationist elves whom the village the party was helping were counting on for survival. i had them tearing up as they decided to knowingly walk a group of orcs to their deaths at the hands of the racist, isolationist elves because it was the only way the elves would agree to supply the village through a brutal winter after the village lost everything. one elf, just one, was curious, if completely incorrect, about the outside world and mostly respectful to the pcs. one of the players is now penpals with him and has sent him a history of the sword coast he otherwise doesn't have access to because his people Do Not Care about the world beyond their borders. the campaign is richer for delving deeper into these cultures and people

Putting all tabletop players into a college level ethics class and forcing them to turn in a paper on moral philosophy before buying a new book

[divineturtle]

Bothers me when I'm reading a fanfic and they make Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy just like. A mean asshole? MY Doctor McCoy introduced Spock to baby talk. MY Doctor McCoy bounces on his toes and has a smile bright as the sun. MY Doctor McCoy knocked Kirk *and* Spock out with a hypo to sacrifice himself for them even though the aliens said he was almost for sure going to die, and the other two would probably live. MY Doctor McCoy was like, hey, sure Spock committed mutiny, but do we really gotta arrest him? Yeah he's grumpy sometimes, but have you considered the fact that he's stuck on a ship in Space with two assholes that literally never listen?

I just watched the Abraham Lincoln episode and I stg it's a miracle McCoy isn't actually a huge asshole, because wym "this planet WAS deadly but Abraham Lincoln says it's cool so we're going" "hey, don't do that, you could beam down into lava and literally DIE" "Ugh shut UP McCoy we're following Abraham Lincoln onto the Lava Planet That WAS ENTIRELY LAVA until two minutes ago" dude I'd be swinging at a mfer. Especially if I was their doctor knowing it was going to be my job to sew them back together. They're absolute menaces to him and he still loves them and is willing to die for them every other episode.

And I don't ever want to see another "ahh he hates Spock" when he so obviously does not. In the last episode, he wasn't even sure that Kirk and Janice had swapped bodies and yet again, he was ready to commit mutiny with Spock and Scotty (why does Spock love mutiny? 🤨) He does like to rib Spock and get reactions out of him, but Spock likes to do it to McCoy just as much. He's been around humans his ENTIRE life, his mom is a human, he's half human, "I have no idea what you mean, Doctor, I'm just a simple little logic machine," you cannot convince me it's not a game.

And every time I feel like McCoy is being hurtful for actually no reason, the next scene is Spock taking action because of whatever McCoy had said and allowing himself to tap into that human part of him. He has a way of speaking Spock. It's not always nice but it's a way that gets through. Do you think asking Spock to use his Vulcan powers to permanently alter his friend and captain's memory so he forgets his grief over this chick he fell desperately for and then also she died in the span of like four hours is a great idea? No, he'd probably have some moral or logical issues with that. but just speech at him about love and feelings and stuff, throw something in there about how great it'd be if he could just forget, and he'll do it himself.

ANOTHER THING. When he's an asshole, he apologizes. He's not an asshole often, but when he is, he apologizes. Leonard McCoy is a lot of things, but he's not really a dick.

I think he deserves to be represented for the guy he is. He has SO many nice and good moments, he's just subtle about them. Remember when Kirk was like, "Bones, why didn't you tell me she was blind?" And he was like, "Idk Jim maybe because that'd be rude? Have you considered it's not your business?" REAL. Honestly, real.

This is a much longer rant than I meant for it to be and somehow I still have more I could say so imma cut myself off right here ❤️ If you read all that, thanks, you're just as weird as I am, even if you don't agree with my lil character analysis. If you didn't read all that, then you're not reading this ✨️

[weirdero]

I want to talk about Helena’s performance as Helly and her deep rooted misunderstanding of who Helly is as a person. And just in general how I think she perceives her especially after yesterday’s episode.

Helena is incredibly attentive, almost to the point of being terrifying. In the short moments she interacts with anyone, everything in her head is already scripted, calculated, and premeditated. She’s also a great method actress, reacting based on the energy around her. It’s like a stand up comic, constantly adjusting their performance to make sure their actions land. If something doesn’t click, she shifts.

Throughout the past couple of episodes, Helena spends most of her time just trying to go with the flow move with the water, trying to fit in without standing out, constantly monitoring the group and their reactions at every turn. And so far, she was good at it. She can play the part, until her own emotions towards helly start to blind her.

In these two pics she does a quick scan of Irving’s and Marks faces trying to analyze their reactions

Helena knows the group loves Helly. She knows Mark loves Helly. And honestly, I’d bet every dollar in my bank account that it genuinely makes her want to kill herself. She has zero respect for Helly, and she doesn’t need to. To Helena, Helly, and by extension, the group, are low value. Insignificant. At her highest, Helly is just a worker, a cheap extension of herself created with the sole purpose of just being a good employee to be displayed to the public as a little shining lumon puppet. But shit, the bitch can’t even do that. She’s done quite the opposite. So yeah, not a person to be respected or valued.

This particular disdain (and fuck it, I’m just gonna say hate) that Helena carries for Helly spills into the bonfire scene with Milchick.

While Milchick is reading the story, enunciating every word like a second grade elementary school teacher, showing pictures like they’re in a reading circle, I kept wondering to myself if Helena ever experienced something similar to this as a child. How many times has she heard this same story? Or hell, any other old Kier mythology? Lumon, Kier, the Eagan legacy, it’s all she’s ever known. This world is nothing new to her.

Even though I believe Helena is a loyal servant, she probably didn’t love all the weird shit she had to put up with in her childhood. The weight of the Egan legacy probably suffocates her. But she accepted it either way because that was the life she was given. Unlike fucking helly. Fucking helly who’s forced her into this situation to begin with. In my opinion, all of these particular feelings make their way into Helena’s reaction to the story as Helly, which could only be described as a middle schooler who suddenly thinks they’re too old for camp.

I saw this post someone made about this scene, and like shit, yeah, that’s probably right. Helena had one chance to shit on the weird religion that’s been shoved down her throat since birth and she took that chance.

Helena, in this moment, settles for crude, mocking jokes. She probably does this partially out of her own selfish need for Mark’s validation, as well as playing her role trying to fit into the group but I also think it’s a great reflection of her own personal feelings toward Helly. Helly, who would’ve never acted that way. Helly, who is many things, but never cruel. Helena doesn’t seem to understand that. For the moment, Helena takes a step back, flanderizes Helly, reducing her to this cheeky, crude, disruptive little jokester. That’s how Helena views her. With no respect. No nuance. Helly has layers Helena does not care to see. Helly doesn’t just break rules; she actively causes chaos, subverting everything around her. She’s purposefully, and happily, malcontent. A bitch, dare I say, an ungrateful bitch, most likely from Helena’s point of view.

Irving, who keeps testing her, makes her slip a little more. I talked about this a little bit in my last post about severance, but Helena doesn’t take well to being disrespected. She shifts from wanting the group’s (and mostly Mark’s) validation to just wanting to put Irving in his fucking place. These people aren’t equal to her in her mind. They aren’t cut from the same cloth probably not even made from the same fabric. There are levels to this shit, and they are not on her level.

She says what she says. It’s cruel. Mostly, it’s stupid on her part.

And just like Irving said later, and what I said earlier Helly was many things, but…

What Helena did at the bonfire was a fuck up. An especially surprising one coming from a woman as controlling and calculated as her. I’m fully convinced all those little mistakes came from a deep frustration within her. Much of that anger, in my opinion, is stewing from the realization that Helly, someone created by her, literally the source of all of Helena’s recent problems, someone who will stop at nothing to take her down, that person, the woman who’s literally locked up inside her, is more free than she will ever be.

Yes, Helena has no respect for Helly. Yes, she most likely hates that bitch. But when she herself is acting as Helly, it gives her the opportunity to almost let go. She gets the chance to essentially kill the bitch that’s been fucking up her life whilst simultaneously getting a chance to talk to this man who cares so deeply for a version of herself she hates, Even if it’s not the most ideal of situations (it’s not), it’s still something. I think, at the bonfire, she reflects on the ridiculous situation she’s found herself. All this shit caused by some other version of herself that she created, that situation plus all the other shit going down at Lumon is probably alot. And it just all bubbles up inside her. And when she’s given even the smallest opportunity to let anything out, she’s going to take it.

Idk it’s therapeutic in a way I guess.

She’s unfiltered, blunt, and almost carefree in a way that’s shocking almost unsettling. It’s clearly how she sees Helly to some degree, but also her own need to scratch an itch she’s never dared to before. And even though it’s an act of “Helly”, it still leaves a clear aftertaste of Helena.

Keep thinking about these two little moments whilst she’s making her jokes she not only keeps checking on mark’s reaction but also seems to laugh at her self in a way that just seems so genuine almost self deprecating. She acknowledges the ridiculousness of her situation and this dumb ass story she’s probably heard a million times

In my last post about Severance, I mentioned that Helena is the master of speaking her truth without outright saying it. She hides behind walls, but as Helly, she’s free to speak without restraint.

(Also her having sex with mark is a clear way of her expressing this new found freedom with in her role as helly but ima talk about that later)

[ladsheadcanoncorner]

asking you to be their valentine ♡ lads headcanons

prompt: how the boys will ask you to be their valentine rating: sfw (tooth rotting fluff tbh) cw: eating + mentions of food ✉︎♡: ask box open, tumblr users + anons

Xavier: -In the days leading up to Valentine’s, you haven’t heard from Xavier as much as you normally do -This is because he’s busy grinding at the arcade for the huge plushie you had your eye on last time you went together -He’s good at games and has quick reflexes, but it is like the arcade made this one impossible to win -After many grueling attempts, he finally wins and gets to take it home, just in time to ask you to be his Valentine -He knocks on your door randomly one night, and when you look through the peephole, all you see is a massive bunny plush waving at you -I’m talking as big as you massive -You open the door and Xavier pops out from behind the plushie -Xavier: “I worked really hard for this one, but it was worth it because it’s just as cute as my Valentine.” Me: “Your Valentine, huh?” -The tips of Xavier’s ears pink and he says, “I mean, I was hoping you would be.” -You pull him and the plush bunny into your arms, kissing both on the cheek -The two of you spend the evening finding the perfect place for the plushie and giving it the perfect name

Zayne: -Zayne claims his sweet tooth has been acting up again while the two of you are casually strolling through town -You want to joke with him about the dangers of sugar, but his eyes light up when he sees a chocolate shop at the end of the street -He’s trying not to seem too eager, but he is practically pulling you inside the store -The shopkeep tells you that they are giving out samples for couples, and Zayne lets you go first to pick your favorite one -After you try a few flavors, Zayne says, “Well, is there one you liked best?” -Before you can answer, the shopkeep emerges from the back with a special chocolate in the shape of a heart -The shopkeep hands it to Zayne, and Zayne holds it up for you -You realize that there are words engraved on the chocolate heart that say, “My Valentine has my heart.” -Zayne: “Since you already have my heart, I guess that makes you my Valentine, too?” -Of course you say yes, clutching the chocolate to your chest and standing on your tiptoes to give Zayne a kiss -On the walk home, you decide to freeze it so that you can enjoy a piece of it on every Valentine’s Day to come

Rafayel: -Rafayel has been working on a custom art project for a “rare and special” customer -If you try to ask him about it, he’ll immediately get defensive and makes some variation of “an artist sometimes needs to work in peace” excuse every time -Eventually, you just let him do his thing and forget about it The day before Valentine’s Day, you’re walking along the shores of Whitesand Bay with Raf -At the end of the shoreline, there is a blanket, pillows, strawberries, and champagne set up on the sand -He leads you to the setup and then hands you a flip book -Going through it, each drawing details moments in your relationship, with cute chibi versions of the two of you acting out the scenes -At the end, chibi Rafayel is holding a sign that says, “Will you be my Valentine?” -Before you have the chance to say yes, you look back up at Raf and he is holding the same sign -Rafayel: “Well, what do you say, cutie?” -After you say yes, the two of you watch the sunset and share the strawberries and champagne

Sylus: -Will buy out an entire flower shop just to ask you to be his Valentine He picks you up for dinner, adamant that you can’t go to his place until after the meal is finished -When you arrive at the restaurant, the waiter delivers a bouquet to your table -You: “What exactly are you planning?” Sylus: “Trying to spoil the surprise, sweetie?” -Sylus doesn’t eat as much as he usually does during the dinner, and even though he won’t admit it, you can tell that he is nervous -When you get back to his place, there is a trail of flower petals leading down the long hallway of his estate -You follow them into his bedroom, where the entire room is filled with bouquets of all kinds. Roses, sunflowers, tulips, daisies…wall to wall covered in flowers -And at the middle of it all, Sylus hands you a single red rose and says, “Will you give me the honor of being your Valentine?” -He hoped you would be surprised, but he isn’t expecting you to take the rose out of his hand and jump into his arms -The rest of the night is spent enjoying the elaborate display he put together (and if you’re really lucky, he’ll even wear the flower crown you make him out of one of the bouquets)

Caleb: -You and Caleb are having your weekly dinner night, but he is acting suspicious this time -He won’t let you help in the kitchen, and he even makes you sit on his couch so that you don’t try and take any sneak peeks -You try to guess what the food could possibly be based on the smell alone, and it isn’t until the timer on the oven dings that the room is filled with the delicious cheesy smell of pizza -Caleb, donning two oven mitts and a “kiss the colonel” apron, places the pizza in the center of the table -He calls you into the room, and when you enter, you realize he has transformed the whole kitchen. The table is illuminated by the dim flickering of pink and red candles. There are heart shaped plates on the table, and heart shaped balloons on the ceiling -When you sit down to eat, you realize the pizza has a message for you spelled out in the pepperoni pieces: “VALENTINE?” -Caleb: “What, too cheesy?” -You can’t help but laugh at his dumb joke before agreeing to be his Valentine -The two of you spend the rest of the night eating the pizza together and planning what you’ll do on Valentine’s Day

[chimerafeathers]

the concept of intentional boredom/tedium in video games is very much a "your mileage may vary" kind of thing and i go back and forth about it in different situations. where does it work? where does it feel earned/worth the mental toll? why am i gonna play a game that is trying to make me miserable?

i can understand this not being the case for everyone (ymmv, after all) but for ISaT i was so fucking fully on board with the repetitive tedium of it all. rubbing my grubby little hands together and going yesssss, yesssssss, make my immersive gameplay experience directly emulate the exact frustrations and anxieties and mind-numbing breakdowns of the player character. remind me, at every turn, the toll this would take on the person living it. make me live their inner monologue before it's ever verbalized on screen.

how strong you feel, compared to the party you're inevitably leaving behind, how weak they seem now. how annoying it is to cut down these same enemies again and again, always pointlessly getting in your way (oh, how convenient that Siffrin feels the same way so intensely that you can get an item that lets him scare them off by sheer force of will before they attack you!). since when was the King's battle--so terrifying, so impossible before--so easy? can't this go faster? you've heard this all before.

let me skip ahead, loop around, treat my character my body Siffrin as disposable, take the fast and easy way to reach the next goal when you're on the verge of an exciting breakthrough, this loop doesn't matter anyway. but ohh, this next loop might be The One, better do this one right and follow the script to perfection. make all the jokes and say all the right things to get the lovely bonding dialogue so you can carry the Best Version of Everyone through to the end. that'll give you the Good Ending, right? can't hurt to try, right? you don't really believe it but this time will fix everything, right?

how generous and wonderful to have so many shortcuts at hand! dissociating zoning out to skip repetitive dialogue, splitting your head open on a rock slipping on a banana peel in the town to loop right to the floor you need, suuuuurely all of this stuff is purely for the Player's Convenience and won't have any psychological impact on our dear protagonist such that it gets slammed back into the player's face as a stomach-dropping reminder that someone's moment-to-moment experience in this time loop still matters, still carries over, still gets riddled with scars even if they can't be seen!

i've played & watched enough games that trivialize/hand-wave game mechanics that it's pretty easy to detach myself from the minutiae of video game decision-making. "this input gets the Good Response" -> "i will continue doing this input." "this option will be more efficient" -> "might as well save some time then." but this game would not let me stop thinking about consequence.

picking Siffrin's favorite food makes them happy! :) it's also the option that makes Bonnie the happiest! yay! -> i keep picking their favorite food -> Siffrin gradually grows sick of something that once brought him joy -> oh. right. that...makes sense, huh.

okay i asked the King what i needed, mann there won't be any tears after the fight is over so i'll have to do the whole ending scene again and that takes a while and i reeeeally wanna talk to Loop, maybe i'll just lose on purpose this time -> OH. RIGHT. THIS IS MAYBE THE MOST PAINFUL WAY FOR SIFFRIN TO DIE BOTH PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY HUH. -> never gonna do that again actually!!!!! the ending isn't that long!!!!

banana peel time! we've got places to be and mysteries to solve! -> (you're a living comedy sketch.) (you wonder if you'll ever be able to smell bananas again without wanting to vomit.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry

it's always cute to see Isabeau's reactions! pick the options that make him blush :3 -> (disgusting. manipulative. it's no wonder he thinks he likes you, you made him feel that way.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry siffrin NO he liked you before any of this happened please don't think of yourself that way--

maybe it won't hit the same for every player (what game can expect to do that?) but holy fuck it hit for me. the way the mechanics let you fall into familiar gamey rhythms but constantly, constantly remind you that this is Siffrin's life you're playing with. the way you end up perfectly in step in the worst ways. muscle memory and habit built up so well that you both stumble when something changes. devastating and delicious

[iwasbored777]

I've been reading posts about GUN and I know they're going to be so bad in the fourth movie. Because not only is it possible that Rockwell, you know the openly xenophobic agent, will be the leader, but we're also going to have the Metal Sonics. When GUN sees alien threats built from the image of the alien they hate the most and can't chase, it's going to be the perfect excuse to want to capture Sonic and also Tails and Knuckles for sure. Not only that, with Amy in the movie it's going to get worse! If she really can travel through time with her chaos energy, I have no doubt that GUN will want to capture her too so they don't get this insane trump card. I dare say that a Team Heroes X GUN conflict is kind of inevitable.

Thanks for this ask cuz I feel so honoured to shame GUN for everything they've done. That previous post about Shadow wasn't enough, they did so many terrible things and I can't believe I didn't write this before your ask.

I can barely list all the worst things they did but I'll try and I'll answer to your other stuff so I hope you're ready and I hope you don't mind this whole analysis 😅 but I really wanted to talk more about GUN and since you clearly hate/dislike them just as much as I do (and many feel the same way) I really want to complain about them to someone who'll listen:

They were the ones that sent Robotnik in the first place. At least at the beginning he was just doing his job.

They knew that Gerald was Ivo's grandfather and alive all these years but they chose to not tell Ivo and let him think that he has no family his entire life. They used him because he was a genius and wanted him to make all those inventions for them and when they thought that he died they just acted as if he never existed.

They hired one of their agents to seduce Sonic's aunt, propose to her, and plan the whole wedding so that they would capture Sonic (I'm sorry I'm trying to stay serious but what the hell is wrong with GUN?! I don't know if I should cry or laugh and this is only the beginning). Poor Rachel too! They didn't care about anyone whether it was humans or aliens. I kinda wasn't happy that Rachel couldn't stay mad, what they did to her was horrible.

They captured Sonic and Tails. Tails was injured when they captured him and they didn't do anything about it, they simply put him and Sonic in cages after they tased Sonic to make sure he's unconscious too, they arrested Tom too when he tried to defend his son. This scene always breaks me, poor babies 😢

They found Shadow when he landed on Earth, kidnapped him, held him in a cryo pod and were doing experiments on him. (Gee, I wonder why Tom and Maddie didn't trust GUN with Sonic and kept Sonic hidden in their house instead after the first movie).

They were responsible for the death of a child, Maria (Walters did try to protect her and Shadow but when others killed her he mistreated Shadow. He definitely had more sympathy for Maria, she was a human child after all.) This moment right here physically hurts me cuz not only that they don't seem to care about the child they just killed but also they're surrounding Shadow and Gerald with weapons as if Shadow and Gerald were the ones who did something terrible here... They didn't care about the child they just killed, they only wanted to capture Shadow, that was their priority and Maria was just a collateral damage.

Right after they killed Maria they threw Gerald, her grandfather who loved her, in jail for 50 years and forced him to make Eclipse Cannon, that can destroy the planet. He went crazy because of all that and WHO WOULDN'T?!

They froze Shadow for 50 years (would definitely stay frozen way longer if he didn't escape) because they just didn't know what to do with him and kept him awake and fully aware of what they were doing to him during the process. I'll once again remind y'all of Walters' comment that Shadow was "too valuable to destroy", because Shadow was property to them and not a young living being with feelings and trauma that they gave him. His face here breaks my heart... Look how helpless he was here...

I added as many examples of how terrible GUN is as I can remember but if there are more you can always add them in the comments. I could easily add every scene and every screenshot with GUN cuz even at their better moments, they're still really bad, but I tried to pick the most important parts.

As for Rockwell, yeah she's gonna be a handful. She's definitely worse than Walters. At least he realized in his last moments that you can trust some aliens, but she isn't going to be easy to convince. They'll probably be even worse from now on and they probably didn't learn their lesson after Shadow. They better not hurt my baby girl Amy or the Colorful Bunch. I have some theories but I'd rather wait and see what's next.

Amy was hiding her identity here from Metal Sonic but I'm not sure if she doesn't want GUN to find her either cuz she's not hiding from Sonic, she let him see her.

Either way, it's not going to be easy for our alien kids and GUN gave me no reason to trust them so far. It says a lot that Robotnik and Stone were WAY more likeable to me than GUN. I hope GUN will leave Shadow alone and if they can't, I hope he'll kick GUN's butts again.

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"Maddie screaming and Ozzy's cough (pt.6)"

or "Something made a hole in my backyard pt.6"

Notes: Did I promise this chapter like two days ago? Yes, I did. Did I deliver it two days ago? No, I did not. But the sun shines on Green Hills and I´m finally done writing this thing! This one is the longest chapter yet, and I think that from now on they will only get longer as not to make too many chapters. But until then please enjoy this one!

Part 5

As it turned out Shadow was not half bad company, he was silent and he still distrusted you and just sat broodingly on the chair as you prepared your morning coffe. But he wasn´t all that bad.

It hadn´t been not even an entire day since he woke up, and even though you had fervently insisted that he stayed on the bed while you did stuff around the house he had not left you alone for even a second. You were pretty sure that he thought you were a secret agent of sorts and were going to attack him at any moment.

But, as long as he didn´t attack you first, you were fine with that, trust had always taken time. As for his health he seemed to be a lot better than the day before, if you asked him he would say that he was fine, nevertheless you had seen him wince more than once while walking.

So there you were, grinding coffee beans on your kitchen, while a weird hedghog looked at you as though he could see right through your very soul. And why were you grinding coffee beans, you might ask. Well, because for some reason, out of your knowledge, the old lady that owned the house had a taste for buying coffee beans, and as you were lazy, and did not planned to walk all the way to the store you were dealing with what you were handed. Coffee beans.

"What would you like for breakfast? I´ve got tea, tap water, I think there is some juice left in the fridge, and eventually there will be coffee" You said looking at Shadow before thinking again "Do hedghogs even drink coffee?" you whispered to yourself.

"We also have to find you something to eat..." You turned around to look around the kitchen for at least some bread. And as you had found it, and were stratching in order to grab it, you heard an awful crunching sound behind you.

Tha scene was almost comical, all the way from how you slowly turned to look at the hedghog with a confusion face, to Shadows litlle cheeks looking full as he munched on something, and even the face that you did when you realized that what he was eating was the coffee beans .

"Are you eating the coffee?"

He nodded, a look on his face that read "yes I am, what are you going to do about it?".

"You are aware that that is not how you consume coffee?" Another nod from him "That could seriously damage your digestive system"

"I am the ultimate life form, a mere plant shall not destroy me"

You pursed your lips together and nodded back. Your mind was debating in between worrying for him and laughing at how unfitting his voice was to his tiny body.

"Alright then ultimate life form, would you at least want a spoon?" You asked as you grabbed one for him.

He looked between your hand, your face, the coffee beans bag, and then back to your face; finally he nodded yet again and agreed with a simple "Yes, thank you".

"Alright, as soon as I´m done with this I need to go to my uncle´s house to check up on them and say hi" You told the hedghog so that he would know.

"You are leaving me on my own?" He questioned as he looked at you a little weird, you couldn´t really tell what he was thinking.

"Yes, I trust you won´t get yourself killed in a few hours, just don´t let people see you, if you get bored the tv is in the living room, you´ll entretain yourself" You explained as you finished drinking your coffee and picked up your jacket.

"You would leave me alone, in your home, even though you don´t know me at all? For all you know I could blow up your entire house" You coldn´t know when the guy was kidding, he seriously had such a deadpan-kind-of-angry face all the time.

"Please do not do that, I can´t afford it" You said as you finished picking up your stuff. Meanwhile he just sat there watching you, still eating the beans.

"Ok, bye" you didn´t even noticed when you gave him a little kiss in his forehead as a goodbye, maybe it was just the habit of greeting your parents like that, but it didn´t matter because neither did you see the hedghog looking at you perplexed as you left the house.

✶✧✶✧✶✧✶✧

The walk to your uncle´s hose had thankfully felt rather short, probably because Green Hills was a rather small town and you had rented a hose near his on purpose.

By the time you stood in his front door you were barely tired, but you still took a second to gather your breath, and you were about to knock on the door when you heard Tom loudly speaking with someone.

"You should have told me in the morning, are you absolutely sure about this?" He asked someone.

"I mean he matched the description Sonic gave me, I never saw him, but I just know it is him" You were able to recognize the voice, it was your aunt Maddie, though she sounded kind of electronic, so you assumed they were talking through a phone.

"But that is good news!" Tom exclaimed.

"Tom, he nearly killed you, I´m sorry if I´m not super excited about this" Someone almost killed your uncle? Did all of this had anything to do with his broken arm?

"So you want us to not tell them anything at all? Not even about Sonic and the others? It doesn´t sound fair, and what if he wakes up?" Now he sounded a little worried, and even though you had no idea what they were talking about, you had started to worry a little too.

"I´ll go get him today, I can not have him hurting someone else on my family"

You realized then that you had been eavesdropping for longer than you intended (which was, nothing at all) and so you decided to knock on the door.

You heard your uncle say something like "Wait, there´s someone at he door" and five seconds later he opened up.

"Hey kiddo! I wasn´t expecting you to be here so early" He greeted and hugged you, messing up your hair a little bit on the process.

"Yeah, I just tought that I would drop by, y´know, check you still had your other arm in one piece" you joked as you dropped on his couch as if it was your own house. You had tecnically been raised in this house as well as your own.

"Where´s Maddie?" You asked Tom as he plopped himself besides you and turned off the tv which was playing a telenovela.

"Oh you know she´s out with the kids..." It seemed he realized his choice off words as they slowly faded towards the end of the sentence.

"Kids?" You looked at him as if he had gone crazy in the last 24 hours "Are you feeling alright? First aliens, now kids..."

He almost jumped out of the couch as he started walking towards the kitchen "Oh you know, I meant the animals, she sometimes says her patients are like her kids, so it must have rubbed off on me".

Someone had to give it to that man, Tom Wachowski was no bad liar.

"Mhm... And does she always take Ozzy to the vet with her?" You asked even further, confused for the missing friendly dog.

"No!" He nearly screamed, at that point you had gotten up from your spot and followed him all the way into the kitchen. "Is just that Ozzy had a bad cough, so she wanted to check it out".

"Okay..." You reluctantly agreed to the explanation.

The rest of the morning went by smoothly, you two talked and you even helped him with patching up some holes in the walls that he blamed the racoons for. But lunch was fastly approaching and no matter how sad it made you to leave you had a hedghog to take care of.

But, first, you had to use the bathroom. You told your uncle that much (about going to the bathroom, not about the alien hedghog) and left for the upstairs bathroom, because, you simply liked it better.

As you were done with your business and were leaving the room you noticed something strange, unusual for most of the times you had been to the Wachowski home.

The attic door was down. Right there, in the middle of the hallway.

Assuming that your Uncle had gone up to put something away, or sothing of sorts, you decided to go up to check it out. What you certainly were not expecting was the way the place was fixed up, there were comic books everywhere, a puff, and what looked like three small beds. The sudden sound of the front door banging was what took you out of your inspection.

Quikly you made your way down the stairs, and the closer you got to the front door the more you could hear your auntie screaming.

"...They were not there! And neither was him! I´m telling you, he did something to them!" You could hear her and you were sure that anyone that was outside on the sidewalk could as well.

"Maddie, calm down, they´re okay!" Tom was definitely trying to get a word in, but his wife´s shouts wouldn´t let him.

"What´s wrong, who´s missing?" You asked as you finally arrived to the place they were both standing.

Maddie whipped her head around so quickly you feard she would snap her neck, and then she just looked at you as if she could not believe you were standing there.

Tom telling her that "he tried to explain it to her" went over your head as a fluffy animal walked into the house.

"Ozzy! How´re you doing girl? Is your cough better?" You asked as you petted the animal which was constantly trying to lick your face.

"Are you alright?" Maddie asked as she knelt besides you. You laughed.

"Yeah, why wouldn´t I be?"

That answer seemed to calm her down as she stood up and left to talk to Tom.

"Dad! I know you said we had to go out for some time to take in some sun, but Tails scrapped his knee, and so we had to come back..." You heard a voice that suddenly went silent as it stood behind you.

You turned around, your aunt and uncle besides you.

There, in the front door of your uncle´s house, stood a perfect blue copy of Shadow.

"I´m sorry, why did nobody told me my cousin had come home?" It spoke.

And then you fainted.

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing@pooplyface1423

[wingedhallows]

hey!!!!! i wanted to request something a little light and cute and fluffy. my request is abby attempting to do your makeup bc she claims it’s “so easy” bc she’s seen you do your makeup routine so many times. your writing is just so impeccable 🤌🤌🤌 and fucking amazing just make it your own and add your own little details if you’d like. but you for sure have to add a scene where abby is just so focused and concentrated on not messing up bc she also claims she’s a “perfectionist.”

— TOO CONFIDENT FOR HER OWN GOOD —

— ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ pairing : abby anderson x reader / 1.8k words — ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ plot: When Abby claims she can do makeup just as well as you—if not better—you decide to let her prove it. Confident as ever, she takes on the challenge… only to realize she might be in way over her head. What starts as a simple dare quickly spirals into a hilarious mess of streaky foundation, clumpy mascara, and one very questionable technique. But as the laughter fills the room, it becomes clear—this isn’t just about makeup. It’s about love, trust, and finding joy in the little moments, even when things go horribly wrong. — ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ authors note: hi! i had so much fun writing this! i hope it's what you asked for and that you like it. send me more requests, this was such fun :)

♡︎ navigation ♡︎

“What’s that for?” Abby nods toward the headband you’ve just slipped on, her brows raised in curiosity. There’s a knowing glint in your eyes as you catch her gaze, a small, teasing smile tugging at your lips. She’s far too confident for her own good.

“To keep my hair out of my face,” you reply, voice laced with amusement. The answer is obvious, but you can’t resist playing along.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I knew that,” she grumbles, and you can tell—just by the slight crease in her brow—that she’s a little embarrassed.

You settle onto the bed in front of her, your makeup spread out between you like an artist’s palette waiting to be used. The thing is, Abby had boldly claimed she could do your makeup just as well as you—if not better—because she had watched you do it sooo many times.

But you know your girlfriend. Abby is stubborn, maybe a little too self-assured at times, and you couldn’t resist challenging her. You dared her to put her skills to the test, and now here you are—your face bare, waiting to be transformed, while Abby sits across from you, staring down at the array of products as if they were some kind of ancient puzzle she suddenly regrets trying to solve.

“Just start with the base,” you encourage, trying to stifle a laugh. Your voice is light, teasing, but you can’t help the warmth in your tone.

She huffs, determined, even as uncertainty flickers in her eyes. She has no idea what she’s doing—but she won’t back down now.

And honestly, you wouldn’t want her to.

You point toward a beige bottle—foundation. “Start with that.”

You don’t offer any more guidance, and you know she won’t ask. Abby is far too proud to read the label, too stubborn to admit she has no idea what she’s doing.

She just nods, feigning confidence as she picks up the bottle. Then her hand hovers over the array of brushes, her fingers ghosting over them uncertainly. For the first time, her eyes flicker to yours, a silent question lingering there.

You bite back a smile and give her a small nod—yes, that’s the right brush. She grabs it, her expression shifting back to one of determination.

But then, to your horror, she squeezes a few drops of foundation directly onto the brush.

Your eyebrows lift slightly. The brush? Jesus…

But you don’t say a word. You just watch. Let her figure it out.

Abby leans in, one hand settling firmly on your thigh. She’d probably claim it’s for balance, but you know better. This is just an excuse to touch you—Abby never misses an opportunity.

You hold still as she begins dabbing the brush against your cheeks, stroking it over your skin in broad, uneven swipes. The pressure is uneven, the strokes unpolished, and you know it’s going to leave streaks.

But you don’t comment.

Not yet, at least.

You feel the brush glide over your cheeks, your chin, your nose—she’s covering all the necessary spots. Well, almost all. She’ll get my forehead too, right?

…Yeah, no.

She moves on, completely skipping over it, leaving your forehead a bare, foundation-less island in the middle of an otherwise blended sea. Great.

You catch the subtle twitch of her brow, a tiny crack in her overconfidence, as if a thought finally nudges its way into her head: This doesn’t look quite right.

You take a slow, deep breath. Good Lord, help us.

Abby sets the brush and foundation down, her expression hardening in concentration. You can practically see the gears turning in her head, grinding so hard you half expect steam to puff out of her ears.

You bite your lip, trying—really trying—not to laugh. But she catches the amusement dancing in your eyes and immediately shoots you a glare.

“Shut up,” she hisses, but there’s no real heat in her voice.

A soft chuckle slips past your lips. “I didn’t even say anything.”

She scowls, picking up the concealer bottle with newfound determination. “Yeah, well, I can practically hear you taunting me in here.” She taps her finger against your forehead pointedly.

That does it—you laugh, reaching up to tangle your fingers with hers. “I would never taunt you, my sweet, lovely girlfriend.”

She rolls her eyes so hard you’re surprised they don’t get stuck.

Then, without hesitation, she dabs a little concealer under your eyes. You wait for her to grab the brush you always use for blending, but instead, she goes rogue.

With her fingers.

Her damn fingers.

You fight the urge to cringe as she smears the concealer across your skin, rubbing it in like she’s applying sunscreen at the beach.

At this point, you’re sure you’ll end up looking nothing short of a full-blown circus clown. But honestly? Watching Abby wrestle with makeup like it’s an enemy she refuses to lose to?

Totally worth it.

"Alright... the eye thing now," Abby mutters to herself, squinting at the array of makeup products like they might suddenly arrange themselves into a tutorial.

You cock an eyebrow, amused. "Eye thing—do you mean lashes, love?"

Her gaze flickers to yours, and instantly, her expression sours. It’s the same look she gives when she spots a spider and desperately needs you to deal with it.

"Absolutely not." She scoffs, shaking her head as she wipes her fingers on a makeup wipe—because, somehow, you're still processing the fact that she applied your concealer with her damn fingers.

"So... mascara?" you ask, tilting your head.

"Ah, yeah—mascara." She nods with confidence and reaches for a tube... except, it’s not mascara.

"Baby, that’s lash glue."

Her head snaps toward you, eyes widening, and a faint blush creeps over the apples of her cheeks. That’s what not reading labels gets her.

"I knew that," she huffs, clearly flustered. "I was just... checking." Her voice dips lower, as if embarrassment alone might make her invisible.

She hurriedly sets the lash glue down, this time taking a moment to actually read the labels before picking up the right tube. Small victories.

Abby unscrews the mascara, but as she leans in, she hesitates. In her head, this is a high-risk operation. One wrong move, and she’s convinced she’ll be the reason you go blind.

She exhales slowly, steadying herself, but her shoulders remain tense. Meanwhile, you simply smile at her, soft and encouraging, before tilting your chin up and looking at the ceiling—your silent way of saying, You got this, baby.

Abby swallows, carefully bringing the wand to your lashes, holding her breath as if that alone will keep her hands from shaking. She moves with the concentration of someone defusing a bomb, praying she won’t stab you in the eye.

And honestly? You’re praying too.

Somehow—miraculously—Abby manages to apply the mascara without stabbing you in the eye, and you silently thank every god who might be listening.

She sets the tube down with a sense of finality, then suddenly—

“All done.”

You blink. Slowly.

…All done?

You take a second to process this. No powder, no eyeliner, no blush—nothing but foundation (patchy), concealer (questionable), and mascara (a crime against lashes). You’re sure you look like a half-finished painting.

But then, you see it. The flicker of uncertainty in her expression. The way her confidence wavers just slightly before she schools her features. She knows.

She clears her throat, her gaze darting away from yours like she can avoid the inevitable.

“I… guess you were right,” she admits, her voice quieter, tinged with reluctant defeat.

Your chest tightens a little because, honestly? Seeing her like this—actually admitting she might not be great at something—is worse than whatever mess is currently on your face.

“I did a shitty job.” She exhales, brushing a few stray hairs from her face, her throat bobbing as she swallows.

You offer her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

Then, before she can react, you get to your feet and move toward the vanity.

Instant regret.

Her body tenses, alarm flashing in her eyes. No, no, no—abort mission! But before she can launch herself across the room and physically stop you, before she can wrap her arms around your waist and haul you away from the mirror—

It’s too late.

You’re already staring at your reflection.

And oh. Oh, God.

Abby stands slightly behind you, her heart pounding so hard she swears it might just leap straight out of her chest.

Your foundation? Streaky. The concealer? Blotchy, with distinct smudges where her fingertips had worked it in like a moisturizer. The mascara? So thick and clumpy it looks like it’s actively plotting your downfall.

And the worst part? The tiny smudges in the corners of your eyes, where the mascara shouldn’t be.

It’s bad.

It’s really bad.

You meet Abby’s gaze in the mirror. She looks… devastated.

And despite everything, despite looking like a sleep-deprived ghost, you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

“I… umh… it’s not that bad.” You try—really try—not to laugh.

Abby stands behind you like a statue, her expression frozen somewhere between dread and sheer embarrassment. You can feel her panic radiating off her, but the moment your eyes flicker back to your reflection, the sheer horror of it nearly sends you over the edge.

The foundation is streaky, the concealer is uneven, and the mascara—dear God—is clumpy enough to make you look like you just survived a hurricane. You press your lips together, struggling, desperately trying to hold it in.

Then—

“It’s horrible,” Abby mutters, voice thick with shame.

And that’s it. That’s what breaks the dam.

Laughter bursts out of you, sharp and sudden, your body doubling over as you grip the vanity for support. It’s not even just a giggle—it’s full-blown, stomach-clenching, can’t-breathe laughter.

Abby watches you, stiff at first, but then—when she realizes you’re not laughing at her, but at yourself, at the ridiculousness of it all—her embarrassment melts away.

She cracks.

Then she cackles.

And suddenly, the two of you are howling like a couple of grandmas at bingo night, gasping for air between fits of laughter.

“I look like a damn ghost!” you wheeze between gasps, gesturing wildly at your reflection.

Abby’s laughing so hard she has to clutch her stomach, her whole body shaking as she bends over like some dad at a backyard barbecue. “I tried my best!” she chokes out, her voice barely holding together.

It takes a solid minute before the laughter dies down, leaving both of you breathless. You brace yourself against the vanity, wiping at your eyes as you finally catch your breath.

“If you ever claim to be better at my stuff again, I swear I’m kicking your ass,” you say, grinning at her through the mirror. The sheer sight of your disaster of a face has Abby giggling all over again.

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes as she heads back toward the bed—

But not before landing a solid smack to your ass.

The sharp slap echoes through the room, and you yelp, whipping around with wide eyes.

Abby just smirks. “That’s for laughing at me.”

The mischievous smirk she throws over her shoulder is all you see before she flops onto the mattress, absolutely pleased with herself.

[gilbirda]

How to Write Women, a quick guide by me

Hello! I was recently inspired to write a series of educational posts so I thought maybe it would be useful for someone.

I want to preface this that there is no criticism intended. I understand that female characters in general have been neglected in media, and I don't blame fandom for not understanding how to write a woman if there hasn't been a good reference in their lives.

My objective is that you, the reader, finish this post with a basic structure and few questions to ask yourself when writing a female character; and with the terms and curiosity to research more if you'd like to expand.

I'm no professional writer, but I've been writing for more than 20 years at this point, and I specialize in writing female protagonists and writing organic romantic storylines.

Here we go.

I want to write a woman, where do I start?

Writing women, at the end of the day, is no different than writing a man. Really, that's the trick.

Disappointed I'm not giving some kind of hot takes about this?

Good.

Because it should be that simple, but to get to that point we should unravel some baseline thought process that can and will get in the way even if you try to write a good female character.

A few questions to ask yourself are:

Why am I writing this character?

Does she have agency in her own story?

Does she have her own goals and aspirations?

Let's break them down:

Why am I writing this character?

What do I like about her? Is she annoying? Is she a hero? A villain? An antagonist? What thing do I like about her canon characteristics (for fanfic writers)? What would I change?

As mentioned at the beginning, female characters usually are not very well written. They are usually fridged or used only as a reminder that MC (usually a man) has emotions and vulnerabilities.

Take a moment to think about it. Think about the feelings her character gives you, and what are the things you do know about her. Think about wasted potential, or unanswered questions about her actions and plot lines that left you wanting more.

If you find her annoying, wonder why — usually, a female character being "annoying" or "not interesting" is tied to her not being developed enough, and pushed into a one-dimensional role. Pay attention at how many speaking lines she has, that usually gives you a clue of how much her character is developed.

Once you have decided who you want to write, this is where it gets interesting.

What kind of story do you want to tell? What role does she play in it?

When making the structure of the story and developing the plot, wonder about how exactly the female character(s) add to the table. Again, female characters can fulfill any role in a story, but watch out!

Bitchy mean girl lesbian

Motherly mommy mom/sister/friend that takes care of everyone

The "healer" of the team

These 3 roles have been used as boxes to fit female characters for ages. Be careful if you think you are pushing her into one of these.

But how can you avoid the tropes?

Does she have agency in her own story?

Or: if you remove her from the story, nothing changes?

Go into your mind palace, and remove the interactions and scenes the female character is in. Does the story still work? Could her lines be easily delivered by someone else?

If the answer is yes, then she doesn't have any agency.

It doesn't matter if she is a main character or a supporting character — she should have a say on the events or some kind of influence in the development of the plot.

Maybe she has a skill that is needed multiple times during the story, or maybe she has past experiences that are a mystery and unraveling her secrets reveals a plot twist, or maybe turns out she was the traitor all along. Make her MATTER.

Does she have her own goals and aspirations?

Or: Is she existing for someone else's sake?

This one is useful for the "mommy" character or the "healer" character.

Go into your mind palace again and think if you remove the female character's loved ones from the equation, does she have something to do?

If the answer is no, then she doesn't exist for herself.

She could still love and take care of others, but she has to exist for something else than that. Make her dream and yearn, and make mistakes, and sacrifice thing for selfish reasons.

Romance is usually a goal given for female characters (and that's a whole other topic I hope to write another post about), and it's a good one! Just be careful with falling for the trap of swapping the people (usually men) she exists for.

Give her hidden agendas, convoluted selfish secret reasons, make her want to destroy the world! Make her want to pursue the truth, chase someone for revenge, be a thrill seeker. Make her HUMAN.

In Conclusion

A quick trick I use when I write female characters is: If I swap her gender, nothing changes?

Of course there's nuance, but that keeps me grounded when even the questions I went over in this post are not enough for me.

Again, writing female characters should not be that different from writing men. If it feels different, ask yourself why and try to understand where the thought comes from.

NOTE: If the point of the story is to discuss the problem of codependency, or portray a toxic relationship, by all means skip checking about agency or her having goals. Rules are there to break them, but first you have to understand them.

I hope this helps someone and I will add and edit this post as needed, maybe to add useful links.

Happy writing!

[kissboybyler]

it gets to me so much sometimes when i think that, in whichever fandom, the GA or just most people tend to ship two characters just because they are canon. Like mike and el, for instance, they are canon, they have kissing scenes and they dance at the ball and they…hug?! But what do they even talk about? What’s the music playing in the background? What’s the context of their interactions? Why, why do they love each other? Do they make each other better, do they find missing parts of themselves in the form of another person? Are there hints and tells and color-codes that just…exist to symbolise their love?

Why do we ship these characters? What’s is it about their love that is so strong? And don’t get me wrong, i also believe -like many other bylers/ fans of the show- that mike and el grew to love each other, to appreciate and kind of need each other. But not for the right reasons.

I mean, mike needs to be needed, to be able to help or even save another person, to feel loved and wanted. But he also needs to allow himself to be who he is, outside of “forced conformity” (“that’s what’s killing the kids” after all!)

El, on the other hand, needs to find who she is, but firstly she needs to have a safe place where she is allowed to kind of just exist and then blossom into her true self. And bumping into mike, who eventually grew to appreciate and embrace her, she felt safe for the first time. And alongside her, mike felt needed, like he could protect her and be there for her and make her happy.

But now el, who has established both meaningful familial relationships and friendships, needs to find out who she is. How can we expect her to grow when she’s in a relationship with the first person she met right after she broke out of the lab (her literal prison), who can’t even talk about any other part of her that he loves other than her powers?

And i’ve read many many other people write about this, about how in s4, when mike wasn’t with el he embraced his geeky, nerdy and weird self but when he finally reunited with el, he had to hide himself from her (as did she!). He just…couldn’t be himself around her.

But like, apart from the problems in their relationship, i really just don’t understand why people ship them. It’s just…mike cant be himself around el and el doesn’t have room to find herself when she’s with mike. It literally doesn’t make any mathematical sense.

And then they say we’re delusional for thinking, for proving, that there are astronomically higher chances for these two not to be endgame, for el to be single and for mike and will to get together. Because it makes sense…right? Like, el will be able to find herself outside of a relationship, she won’t be dictated by anyone but her own self, and mike and will… do i really have to elaborate? Like, in every single aspect of stranger things, from musical titles and colour-codes, parallels and loving, longing stares, hand touches, over-protectiveness, deep and meaningful understanding to posters and freaking funko-pops, interviews and good ol’ fashioned cinematography and storytelling… it all points to them, if you connect the dots.

And how, how is it possible that so many dots have been put into such perfect places, to make such a beautifully crafted imagery, just for all of this to be a coincidence? When, when has anything ever in stranger things been coincidental? Ever?

Edit: I’d just like to denote that, when i said “(mike) can’t even talk about any other part of her that he loves other than her powers” i didn’t mean that mike loves el JUST because she has powers, fuck no, BUT when the time was right for him to note all of the other aspects of her character that make her a remarkable person (ex. her selflessness, her compassion), he decided to focus on her powers. The very thing that she herself thought dictated her.

just wanted to make that super clear.

[1296-very-good-year]

The thing that bugs me most about Caitlyn's arc is how obviously she was forced into the position Jayce had been set up to fill.

Jayce was the de facto head of the council that Sheriff Marcus (keep that in mind) reported directly to for city security.

He was the Golden Boy, Man of Progress, beloved by everyone in Piltover for the invention of Hextech! Charismatic! Handsome!

They didn't NEED martial law. After Jayce emerged unscathed from the terrorist attack, most of the council dead, Piltover would have been falling over itself to give him sole authority regardless of him wanting to quit the council right before the attack.

And Jayce should have been beside himself with rage! Jinx turned his invention, his dream, into a weapon that nearly killed him and the two people he loves most! Mel and Viktor, at the same time! She ruined his peace deal! (And killed Silco, but for some reason Cait and Vi never tell anyone about that)

But nope. He's just sad, and tries to talk Caitlyn down from wanting to kill Jinx.... Like wtf!! Where did his passion go?? His recklessness? Caitlyn got it all.

Let's say he's still reeling after killing the kid in his shimmer raid and fearing the consequences of violent intervention. Fine. But then there is the attack at the memorial. Now it's bigger than Jinx, and his entire city is threatened.

Picture the end of episode 1, with the council gathering in the basement after the memorial attack and it is JAYCE marching in to announce the strike team, with Caitlyn and Vi beside him, with their shiny Hextech weapons.

They didn't need to give Caitlyn political power. She could have become Sheriff under Jayce! She would have had nearly the EXACT same scenes. She doesn't get a single moment where she acts like a political leader in Act 2 anyway!

We never see her do anything the sheriff wouldn't do, which tells me this was a late change to cram all the remaining story into one season, to every character's detriment. If Caitlyn had just been following Jayce's orders until running into Vi, her flip would not have felt so jarring.

She loves Jayce as an older brother, she's grieving her mother, she and Jayce could have BOTH been manipulated by Ambessa. Let Caitlyn be at the forefront of all the awful shit she's ORDERED to do, instead of ordering it HERSELF.

By giving her ultimate authority instead, the few clipped scenes of her redemption, her "I know" and letting Jinx go free are nowhere near enough to get the audience back on her side. As evidenced by how many people hated her arc this season.

[paradoxic-ally]

Nevermore Theory

Alright, I’m finally going to go out and post my own Nevermore theory, now that the comic has returned. A lot of the things I wanna talk about are already pretty popular subjects of theory in the fandom (“Who killed Annabel Lee?”), but I wanna tackle a few points I rarely see addressed.

I am going to put all of this under the general thesis of: “The deans don’t lie, but they deliberately mislead.”

Unscientifically speaking, every time the deans come out and tell us something, my bullshit senses go off big time! I want to focus on two main claims they have made, that influence how we view the story in a major way: Who killed Annabel Lee and What’s up with the new life?

1. Who killed Annabel Lee?

I feel it necessary to type out the exact wording the deans use, because it is often misread or misremembered. Don’t worry, that is by design!

“Betrayed by the one who loved you above all else.”

“Who loved YOU” and not “Who YOU loved”. I think that distinction is very important and easily missed. Especially since the expressed purpose of the deans in that scene is to drive a wedge in Annabel and Lenore’s relationship. Now, you could easily argue, that this still points to Lenore. The two of them are the No. 1 relationship to root for after all. But this is where the second part of the statement comes in: “above all else”. In my opinion, Lenore has already demonstrated that she can and will put other things above Annabel Lee (divorce arc anyone?). I don’t doubt, that Lenore and Annabel were a lot closer when they were still alive, but I also don’t doubt that this is one of Lenore’s core personality traits. The other thing I want to point out is, that you don’t have control about “who loves you the most.” You would hope it is your significant other, or maybe a good friend or even a parent. But you can’t really know that. Which brings me to another part of this theory: “Well, who did it then?”

Short answer, I don’t know, but I have a hunch.

First off, I kind of dismissed her father as a suspect by personal preference. We don’t have a lot to go off here, but I think he is too dismissive of her to fit the description. I’m particularly thinking about the scene where he gushed to “Leo” about boats, rather than playing wingman for his daughter.

My main suspect is instead Annabel’s nameless suitor. We don’t know much about him, other than he has already challenged Annabel multiple times (showing dedication). She says: “I’ve defeated the poor fellow a dozen times now, but he is terribly persistent.” Her father has promised him, that at the end of the season he can marry Annabel if she hasn’t found a husband by then. I can imagine how angry he might be, if that plan doesn’t shake out and she gets engaged to another man, right before he finally gets his wish.

Coming back to the deans, I think we can find that they very deliberately chose their words to lead to a false conclusion. Annabel might know who she loves above all else, but she can’t know who would love her in that way. She is left to make assumptions and we along with her. The words “love” and “betrayal” point to someone close to her, and since she died on her wedding day we are lead to a most likely suspect. That’s how we skip over the precise details of the claim. And the deans have never even uttered a lie.

2. What about the new life?

“If you survive these exams you’ll get a chance at a new life.”

That’s the first claim we get from the deans about the prize waiting at the end of nevermore academy. And it is frustratingly vague. Luckily, we already know the first trick they pulled with that one, so we can take that as a guide to analyse it further. This short little claim lets you read almost anything you want into it. It doesn’t specify how many students are allowed to claim the price or, even more importantly, how tose exams will be designed. By leaving out information the automatic assumption is: “Everyone who passes the exams, gets a chance at a new life.” However if these exams ever are designed to only allow a single winner, then only one person would be able to clear the win condition. Nobody would think about any of this, when presented with such an opportunity. It’s why all hell breaks loose when they finally reveal the reward will only be granted to one student. Speaking of which, their wording changes a bit in that reveal.

“…and to the one lucky student amongst you who will be born again.”

Born again is new. It implies at least to some degree a fresh start. Not simply a continuation from where you left off. But that’s another problem. We do not know a single thing about what that new life entails. The students are too caught up in the urgency of the whole situation. They are dead. The deans are offering a way to return. That is all that matters. We hear what we want to hear. I think if we were to ask every student, every one would want something different out of the new life. I doubt Pluto would like to return to how things were.

What the new life looks like is impossible to say, and it is once more designed that way. I still would like to theorise. My personal pet theory is, that you return to the world of the living as a spectre. This is why the deans push students to manifest train their powers. Students with strong spectres are shown favouritisms and exams are designed to eliminate students who haven’t manifested. If you were to return to the world of the living as a human, what good would your spectres do you?

Im conclusion, the deans use our own assumptions against us, by being deliberately vague on important subjects. At the same time, they have yet to outright lie about something. They simply don’t tell you things. To me, that means double checking everything they say. It is kind of like uttering a wish to a djinn or dealing with fae. Be really mindful of the wording and how it may be used against you.

Thanks for reading this far and please let me know if I have missed something, especially if it debunks some of my claims. I am happy to hear your thoughts :)

[monokuromuheaven]

Vancouver actor Carlos Diehz’s big break comes in Ralph Fiennes film

(...)

“He (Edward Berger) wanted to hear from me what I had in mind for the character,” said Diehz, adding he explained to Berger that he saw Benitez as “a very pious man.”

“If he was a missionary, then an archbishop, then a cardinal, he has what it takes to lead a group. To be at the front,” said Diehz. “I discussed these ideas with Edward, and he liked them.”

Eventually, Diehz made the final callback and was brought to Rome to meet with casting director Nina Gold (The Crown, Slow Horses, Star Wars and Game of Thrones).

“She’s a big deal worldwide,” said Diehz about Gold. “So, no pressure, right?”

(...)

While he was onset, Diehz said he noticed Fiennes was watching him. Finally, Fiennes approached and said: “Now I know why they chose you. You are Benitez,” Diehz recalls the English actor saying to him. “He saw in me the personality of the character.”

Diehz was raised Catholic and understood the basics of the conclave process, but admitted the weight of the subject matter really hit home when he donned the heavy cardinal costume.

“When you look at yourself in the mirror dressed up like that, like someone that grand within the church, it is like an extra boost emotionally to perform,” said Diehz.

“Now I see Benitez the way he is in this situation. Benitez is a missionary who mostly dresses like any other civilian in his daily life, but here he has to dress the part. He has to look like the rank he has been given. So, being able to look at myself like that is kind of a strange situation. But very empowering.”

What was also empowering was the wealth of talent and experience he was surrounded with for his very first feature film role. His castmates were open to discussions and offered him excellent advice.

Fiennes, for instance, spoke to him about the importance of truly being heard.

“He said, ‘OK, every word you say is precious. And you have to deliver it as such. You have to put the time in, the correct enunciations, so the audience understands and is not wondering what you said … Treat every word as precious. So, I did that,” said Diehz. “The next day, when we were shooting the scene, every break we had I was rehearsing my enunciation, and I heard Ralph from another part of the area, he just said, ‘Bravo, you nailed it.'”

Later in shooting, Diehz faced a crisis of confidence as he prepared for a pivotal scene in which Benitez makes a speech in front of the 100-plus cardinals. This time, it was Lithgow who offered guidance.

“He asked me what are the main issues I wanted to talk about? And I said stage fright,” said Diehz. “He said stage fright really never goes away. You just learn how to manage stage fright. One of the things is when you feel it, it is a sign that you care about the scene. And that’s good.

“But what must guide you, drive you, is to know that when you speak there is no reason to hurry your lines. There’s no reason to feel rushed in any way because you control the scene. No one is cutting you off. Nobody is going to rush you. When they call ‘action,’ until you finish your lines, you own the scene. You set the pace and the tone. So that was very empowering, very powerful stuff.”

But despite Lithgow’s words of encouragement, Diehz said his nerves were still front and centre when it was time to shoot the speech.

“Edward Berger approached me and said, ‘You doing OK? I said, ‘Yeah, yeah I’m fine.’ And he said, ‘I can hear your heartbeat on the microphone,’ ” said Diehz. “So I was, ‘OK, big breath, calm down, calm down, calm down.’ And little by little, I did.”

While filming scenes caused his blood pressure to rise, Diehz says the evenings were made up of many wonderfully relaxing dinners of fabulous traditional Italian food alongside his very famous castmates.

And no, Tucci didn’t cook.

“You know what, that is a common question,” said Diehz when asked about his foodie co-star. “Being at a table with Ralph, Stanley, John, Isabella and talking about wine, cheeses, bread, it was wonderful. You could make a documentary of each of those dinners we had together,” said Diehz, who explained it was Rossellini who offered much of the insight into the nuances of Italian food.

(...)

“I remember Stanley asked me, ‘Are you really, after all this, going back to your daily job?’ Well, yeah, that’s what I have,” said Diehz, who continues to work for a Vancouver architectural firm. “But I’m not quitting acting. I’m going for more.”

Source

[breakyourrxles]

❥between two breaths (m) | 𝟙𝟝

𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞

↳ 'A picture is worth a thousand words,' as the age old adage goes, but you are soon to find out that the narrative spun around them can be worth so much more.

kim sunwoo x fem!reader (side lee juyeon x reader) — idol!sunwoo, fan/trainee!reader. forced proximity, forbidden love, friends to lovers, angst, slow burn, idolverse-typical themes regarding; dating, image, public perception, etc. happy ending, plot-heavy!! reader thinks she's nonchalant about it but she rly isn't. smut. [8,7k wc ongoing] cws: heavy themes of wanting-but-can't-having, mild jealousy, explicit sexual content, a little alcohol consumption, dancing on the edge of career suicide, poor decision making because of The Wanting.

❥ masterlist | ao3

Leaning his face closer to yours, Eric squints devilishly at you and says, "Be nice to me, or I won't scout the way myself to sneak you in."

The following days speed by in a blur; comeback practice, setlist practice, multiple meetings and pre-comeback appearances meant to create interest for what is soon to come commandeer the majority of your time, and it is only once you land in Germany that you realize just how little you have been able to afford for yourself.

There is a wash of relief there when the foreign air hits your skin and the unfamiliarity of a place you have never been before begins to sink in. Of course, MVNE have things they must do here beyond a handful of songs they are set to perform tonight, but photoshoots and social media are nothing compared to the demanding schedule that still awaits you back home.

You've still not spoken to Sunwoo in weeks.

He has been away for the majority of the time, and did not fly with the rest of you. Sunwoo, you find out through overhearing discussions amongst managers, will come in a few hours in the future. Straight to the stage for rehearsals, and then a meager wait following that until it is time to perform for those awaiting him.

One positive thing about it all is that Juyeon has kept his word.

Interactions with him are brief and professional, given the fact that you are in public and there are curious eyes all around. The fans like the two of you together in certain ways—as far as performance and aesthetic are concerned—but both of you know it best to not test the limits of where your friendliness might land you.

You steal glances as he stands near to you, careful not to draw attention to yourself. He is handsome and kind; forthcoming with his thoughts and feelings, incredibly intelligent and well-read on top of it all. For a moment you wonder to yourself, why not him, and then suppose that it really is as intangible and cosmic as what he had said to you only a week or so back.

Your heart just isn't in it. What else can be said for that?

Mid-day rolls around and rehearsals come and go. The sound leaves a lot to be desired with numerous hiccups and discussions following in tow. MVNE will perform four songs, which is plenty given the way your body feels weary on account of the travel and jet lag. A couple of the girls push for one more, but you stay silent in the conversations. Really, your mind is heavier than your body could ever be. Hours have passed, the rehearsal following yours is for The Boyz, and you know who is standing by backstage awaiting their time to shine.

Your feet hurt by the time your time slot is finished—numerous runs done over and over again until finally everyone has got it right. The girls all hurry backstage to enjoy the small amount of time they have until fans start shuffling into their places and the arena lights shine for you and so many others to be seen. At the very least, the green rooms are catered well and there is a whole plethora of food awaiting you.

Once down the stairs and behind the scenes of the glamour, bodies dart around and zoom past you, all with time-sensitive tasks of their own that must be attended to. Black blurs that you cannot make out the faces of before it is too late and they have disappeared off into the distance. People are shouting and static is buzzing from sound systems and communication devices. It's stressful making sure that everything happens precisely the way it is meant to; the air brimming with electricity that can be felt right down to your bones.

You look up and to your left, your eyes catch Kevin's briefly and your heart leaps up into your throat. The understanding that they had been waiting back here is something that logically, you had made peace with, but emotionally? Evidently less so.

Yet you can't look away.

Your attention spans down the line with momentum so fast that it makes your head spin. Chanhee and Haknyeon are standing just behind, though their eyes are set to the ground in anticipation of what's to come. Mimicking them, you also look to the floor, not wanting to accidentally trip on something that may be troublesomely in front of you. Then, your eyes snap back up and as if constructed by fate itself; you find Sunwoo.

He looks at you as if he can feel the fact that your gaze sits heavy on his form. It's so dark and so busy that you only have a second or two to truly get a look at him, but you don't require much to recognize that he has seen better days and wears the fact tiredly upon him.

Those eyes light up for what seems like the first time in a long time.

But you snap away from him and are quickly ushered down the hall towards elsewhere entirely. The girls all make their way inside of the green room, a few of them wasting no time looking over the bountiful display of snacks and drinks that have been waiting there for the taking. Rather than following suit, or sitting to rest your tired feet, you halt just past the doorway and remain lost in a split-second moment that has hardly even happened, at all.

The look on his face, and the obvious desperation seen behind eyes that have no hope of being able to convey the depth of whatever it they feel as though they need to.

"Hey," a familiar voice calls to you, enough to snap you back to the present. Woori nudges you with her shoulder from just beside you and lowers her voice a little bit more to avoid being overheard. "You okay?"

"What? Yeah, of course." What else are you meant to say beyond the thing that you know she wants to hear. "Just tired, jet lagged… You know how it goes."

"First time overseas for an event, it's not easy, I'll tell you that much," she agrees. "I don't know how groups do it, back and forth all the time, but I guess all we can hope for is that eventually, that'll be us, too." There's no response you have to give to her words with your mind still left back in the hallways. Woori notices it—perceptive as she is—and lowering her voice to a whisper she says, "Are you sure you're okay? You know… with everything going on?"

You grant her your attention, and though you have no doubt that your feelings lie fully displayed upon your features, you don't have the fight left in you to attempt to correct it, either.

"It's fine." That's the best you can do. "It's all going to be fine."

From just behind where the both of you stand, a knock raps at the door and shortly thereafter it swings open to reveal a couple of familiar faces that you were not at all anticipating seeing.

There stands Rimi, dressed in white and pastel pinks. Beside her is another girl that you know, though not as familiarly as Rimi, herself. Her name is Kokoro; never not seen with bleached blonde hair and a wild aesthetic of animal prints and vast accessories.

They both enter and immediately wrap you in affection, with strong hugs and kisses pecked to the sides and top of your head. Just what you need, right about now.

"How did you guys get back here?" you ask, still basking in the love that they're showing you. "Don't tell me you've started down the dark path of sneaking into places you know you're not supposed to be."

Rimi's hands set at her hips, a comical display of displeasure at your words and she says, "Please! We would never! But more than that, we don't need to!"

Kokoro raises a hand. "My family knows one of the directors of this production, so we have just about as much free reign of this place as you do."

"Shall we step outside to chat?" Rimi suggests, "We wouldn't want to bother the other girls during their resting time, only you."

Little does she know, their presence is precisely the sort of pick-me-up that you need. Following them out, Kokoro says something about a vending machine with a very particular cold coffee that she wants, and the three of you head down towards her intended prize. It is a less frequently traveled spot by talent and staff alike; no time for anyone to hang around and enjoy the luxury of a beverage in the hours leading up to the show. For the first time in a long time, you feel the tension dissipate from your form. Comforted by the quell of madness.

"We can speak comfortably around Kokoro," Rimi says suddenly, words that feel a little out of place and do more harm than good when it comes to the stress that you're hoping to leave behind. "She already knows everything that goes on everywhere, nothing you could tell her would be news to this one."

You look the girl over. Times spent together in the past have been little more than holding spots in line and journeys for soju and barbeque after an event. However, your trust held in Rimi is unwavering, and if she is willing to vouch, then you allow yourself to accept the fact.

"My family is very well connected," Kokoro says. "I wouldn't be able to escape it if I tried."

The smile you give her is slight and half-hearted, but you don't have it in you to offer much more beyond that.

"That said! How are you? How have things been? It hasn't been long since we last spoke but a lot has happened!" With wide eyes and a dramatic display of disbelief, Rimi shakes her head as she recounts the most obvious elephant in the room. "I mean, can you believe it? Just crazy the way all of that has played out."

Busy with her drink retrieval, Kokoro finally slips the container out from the slot and still bent down, she looks up at you and says, "It must have been a very strange conversation, huh? But I guess this is business. It's all politics, smoke and mirrors and all that, ya know? Like, we always know that's the case, and then you see it in action and it's like whoa, they'll go to any lengths to get what they want, isn't that right?"

Through the course of Kokoro's tirade, your eyebrows have flexed and pressed together on your face. It hasn't been a conscious effort on your part, and though you entered this discussion with a baseline understanding of what is about, the more she has spoken, the less you have come to understand it. Somewhere along the line, the words Kokoro has said have sounded less familiar to you, and more akin to information that you have not yet become privy to.

You understand what the three of you are talking about, but simultaneously, you have no idea what the three of you are talking about.

So, you have no choice but to inquire. Your eyes dart to Rimi—who is watching you expectantly—then back to Kokoro who is seemingly unaware and working towards enjoying her prize.

"Uh, what are we talking about?"

Rimi rolls her eyes and stamps her foot like a cartoon character. "Sunwoo! The pictures, and everything!"

"I know, I gathered that much, but…"

Silence follows. Eventually, any hint of comedic display falls from Rimi and a sense of sincere urgency takes hold instead. "Wait." Her shoulders drop all of their tension, slouching lifelessly to her sides. Cocking her head inquisitively she says, "Have you not… spoken to him?"

Your throat is dry and your eyes drop from hers, unable to maintain the contact as this topic persists.

"No, I don't think I have to explain why."

"Oh shit!"

It drops from Rimi's mouth before she has a chance to reel it back. Her hands fly over her mouth and Kokoro gasps in the aftermath of it, gently swatting at her as if to reprimand her for saying it. Reaching towards you, Rimi grips your arm tightly—almost enough to hurt—and with a kind of determination you've never seen from her before she says, "Babe, you need to talk to him, oh my god. It's not true!"

Your stomach drops before you have time to truly consider the weight of what you have just been told.

"Wha… I saw the pictures," you stammer, "We all saw them. We saw the articles, the company statement…"

After struggling for quite some time, the cap finally pops off of Kokoro's drink. She takes a sip and appears wholly unbothered by the weight of the conversation that is happening around her. A loud sigh follows her sip, like she's filming for a commercial and selling the part to perfection, and once she's finished Kokoro finds the time to attend to you.

"I mean, yeah, the photos are real in the sense that they exist and they were spotted out together." She takes another sip, enamoured by the flavor in ways that seem incredibly untimely given the gravity of what is happening to you. "It's the story around them that's not. I thought for sure you would have known this, figured this was already water under the bridge. They must be keeping a real tight leash on him then."

You close your eyes, shake your head in disbelief and just say: "Pause."

A moment is needed for you to think through the unimaginable amount of thoughts swirling around in your head. You take in a slow but deep breath, holding it inside of your lungs until you can't stand to keep it there for any longer. Your nerves settle slightly, enough to move forward with all of this without completely shutting down, bursting into tears, and ruining the incredible amount of stage make-up that is crafted upon your face.

"Can you just… Start from the beginning."

"I'll keep watch!" Rimi announces, craning her body so that she can look down the hall.

"Okay, so." Kokoro revels in another sip of her coffee drink before continuing on. "My dad works with a lot of very high-profile people, so I hear about all of the nasty business in the industry. Entertainment companies, news, politics… all of it," she says. "He's currently assigned a job working very closely with the news source that posted those photos and the article along with it, and you know, these people love to talk. They love gossip. They can't sit on a secret without it killing them. Love the attention."

Growing impatient, you say, "Can we just…"

"Right! Anyway, he was there when the story broke, and I guess it was a big deal when it happened, the office was going crazy about it! So, they went out for some drinks after work and got to talking, and apparently everyone working on the project spilled! There was a lot of correspondence with your company back and forth, and apparently it wasn't just some random paparazzi that snapped the photos and sent them in… It was your company, themselves."

The more she says, the more your heart sinks down to your gut.

"So, they get these pictures of him out with this photographer. The outing is nothing special, nothing happens. It's just a casual thing amongst colleagues but you know, you can snap a single photo of a moment and spin it to seem like anything with the right kind of story attached. Which is precisely what they did. That company paid a lot of money for this all to get out, by the way. Orchestrated the whole thing. And I can't prove this—it's just something my dad overheard in passing another day—but it seems like they did it to manufacture tension in-house." Kokoro stops, gives you a knowing look and then says, "Don't have to be the smartest person in the room to know exactly what that means."

Voice trembling, you say: "They know about us."

"Yup, and are going about breaking it up in the nastiest way they know how," Kokoro confirms. "I mean, if you think about it from their perspective, there's no other way. No-dating rules have been a thing in the industry for decades but it doesn't stop anyone from doing it anyway. If you sniff out some funny business under your roof, the only real way to ensure that it stops is to craft up a way for those people to not want anything to do with each other the natural way—good ol' emotional manipulation style."

You feel sick. Your stomach twists and your chest tightens, eyes stinging with the pain of tears you're desperate to fight back. Everything hurts, straight down to your bones; body limp with the discovery that you have never been as attuned to the intricate and downright wicked willingness these people have to get whatever it is that they want.

"You're sure?" you ask. Realistically, you already know the answer to the question, but something inside of you needs to hear the confirmation one more time.

Kokoro nods. "Yeah, without a doubt. I'm really surprised he hasn't reached out about it, but my guess is that they're watching him like a hawk. He probably doesn't have free access to his phone if he hasn't."

No wonder Sunwoo never reached out once the story broke. The sickness writhes inside of you just that much more in relation to everything that has transpired since then; your feelings, your actions, things that can never be undone or taken back.

All just to find out that Sunwoo hasn't done anything, at all. Instead, he is the person with the target on his back; the first shot sent from his very own company, and the second—unbeknownst to him—fired from you.

"Someone's coming!" Rimi whisper-shouts.

Kokoro nods to her and the conversation comes to a close, but before you will allow it to do so, you grasp the sleeve of her coat into your hand and say, "Thank you, but… I need to talk to him. How do I talk to him?"

Her eyes widen. "You're asking me?" Thinking it over for a few seconds, her head bobbles in a considering sort of way as if mulling over any potential options and she says, "Are you close to anyone else in there? Someone else you trust? I can't talk to Sunwoo himself, the degrees of separation aren't far enough, but I might be able to pass a message along and start orchestrating something."

Juyeon would be willing, you know that fact well. You trust him and have seen firsthand how capable he is through missions of stealth. However, involving him in this feels too close to home—as well as other things—and so, you opt into your next best and considerably more messy option.

"Eric."

Squinting suspiciously, as if to say that you have missed the importance of this being a covert sort of going on, Kokoro relents to it and just says, "Well, alright. Eric it is, then. I'll try to talk to him and figure something out, Rimi and I will message you when we have something but it's probably for the best if we're not seen together again after this. Not until we're back in Seoul, at least."

How deep does the rabbit hole go, you wonder.

Rimi [18:47]: great news~♡ kokoro talked to eric about that client her dad works with who wants to work with him in the future and it looks like he's super open to it! we wanted to talk to him about it more later after the show, but he said something about just being way too busy with the gym tonight (¬_¬") men can be so annoying, but that's how it is! see you in seoul again soon~!

Covered in sweat, it is the first thing you see on your phone upon arriving back inside of the green room. Your heart skips, breath holding inside of your lungs out of fear that should you dare breathe, the possibility of this may disappear with it.

This is code. Obviously enough to you with the knowledge you have but not so much so that anyone who happens to see it could understand the hidden meaning behind the words. 

Unexpectedly, a hand finds your back and you jump at the fright.

Kaia swings around to settle in your line of vision with a big smile on her face and a make-up wipe in hand, always the fastest to rid herself of the excessiveness of it all.

"Great job out there tonight, you were electric," she says, "We're all going to go out for dinner and some drinks, enjoy the city a bit while we're here, tell me you'll come along with us!"

You want to say no, but there is no good excuse for not doing so. The Boyz trail behind you in their performance and are set to go on shortly, and rushing back to the hotel only ensures that you sit waiting until a later point in time where you are finally able to begin perusing the hauls for the place it is that you will seek. Truthfully, the only reason you wish to bow out is a selfish desire to be alone with your own thoughts and worries; what will happen, what has happened, and what might be waiting for you in the not so distant future.

"Of course I'll come," you say, putting all of your ample weariness on the shelf for the time being. A formidable task. "You were great, too. We all were."

Miyoung is passing by as you say it, catches ear of what you've said, and flashes you a smile as she continues on her way.

For MVNE, things couldn't be better. Little do they know how close you are to bringing it all toppling down.

You don't know Eric's manager, nor how intense he is about his line of work. All you know is that this had seemingly been his plan, and if he had set it into motion, then it must be fairly smooth going from here.

The room you have is shared with Serri and you're quite thankful for that. A perfect night for her is staying in, watching television and scrolling through her phone with little interest for much else to entertain her. She is quiet and kind, but wholly uninterested in being the life of the party—especially after a long day of travel, rehearsals, and performances.

When you say you're leaving to see what the accommodations have to offer, she barely even hums to acknowledge your words.

Circumstances are such now that you can't take any chances with anyone you may run into, and so, you are dressed accordingly. The typical wear of an idol engaged in sneaky business and you make it a point to keep your head low, not bothering to ask the front desk where the location of the gym even is. You trust you can find it on your own—these places have maps everywhere—and once you make it to the lobby, your instinct to trust your gut is instantly rewarded.

Basement level, just one more level down and just beside the pool.

You don't know what time you're meant to be here, and you don't ask Rimi for any further clarification, either. Correspondence with Eric is certainly out—not that you have a way of getting ahold of him, anyway—so all that you can hope is that their business is wrapped up and you haven't kept him waiting so long that he has already retired back to bed. It's late, most people are no longer making their way through the halls… All you can do is hope.

Down here it's musty and the scent of lingering wetness clings to the carpet that you're walking on. You pass a door for staff, and then the very next one is precisely what you are searching for.

With a racing heart that threatens to leap from your chest, you slowly push the door open.

And seated on a bench right in plain sight, is Eric.

"Your friends told me they have an exciting opportunity waiting for me, how nice of you to send them my way."

While a part of you wants to clear the distance and jam a fist into his arm, the stronger part nearly wants to break down and cry.

"Youngjae…"

His eyes go wide. "Whoa, government name. You're really in the trenches, huh?"

Fighting the floor of emotions that threaten to take hold, you bring your palms to your face and drag them downwards woefully as you make your way towards him. Eric pats the empty portion of the bench just beside him and you take your seat with a despondent plop.

"I need to talk to Sunwoo."

"You're kinda dumb, you know that? I can't believe you saw all that and really thought that what you were seeing is what you were really getting. I mean, seriously? Another woman?"

"You're not helping."

Eric reels a bit, rolls his eyes like he accepts that his badgering is not particularly wanted and says, "I'm just saying, you know that guy is crazy about you. I mean, I didn't have the proof and he hadn't told me it wasn't true yet but like… I kind of knew someone was playing games, and it wasn't him."

"You can hang me up in the city square for torture another time, but right now I need to talk to him. He doesn't have his phone?"

"Nope, at least, not without someone eyeing him while he's using it. It's kind of a nightmare, if I'm being honest. Can't send as many dick jokes as I'd typically like." You look over at him with a glare, and once again Eric realizes that his additional anecdotes are falling on deaf ears. "Alright, look… It's late enough by now that I don't think he's being hounded. We got food and some drinks after the show and then a few of us headed back in, him included. I told him I was going to come over so we could see if the theory is true that Ridiculousness is literally always showing on TV in hotels, no matter where you are or what time it is. He seemed to like that idea."

"I cannot believe you guys are actually idols," you say, "No wonder everyone likes girl groups now, instead."

Leaning his face closer to yours, Eric squints devilishly at you and says, "Be nice to me, or I won't scout the way myself to sneak you in."

His hand grips your wrist and just as swiftly, you are dragged to your feet and back towards the door.

When the elevator announces your arrival, your breath fully catches in your throat. Once again, you hold it for fear that none of this is real, that with one faulty move karma will deem your being here something that should not happen.

The silver doors slide open and Eric pops his head out.

"Nothing, it's clear. Pretty sure everyone is asleep already, managers included."

"Even for him?" you ask.

Looking back at you he says, "Yeah, they're tyrants but they're not on him twenty-four-seven, nobody gets paid enough to do that. Let's go."

Eric wanders down the hallway with the sort of nonchalant ease of a guy with absolutely nothing to lose. It must be nice, you think to yourself, walking with your body nearly curling inside of itself as if to disappear should the slightest of glances fall upon you.

"What if someone else is inside?" you ask then, nervousness making itself evident through your questioning.

He briefly glances back at you again. "Again, not paid enough."

"You guys don't room together?"

"Not anymore, perks of being in the game for a while." Eric pauses for a second and then says, "Wait, you two were friends for a while before all of this, don't you know that already?"

"I never went to his room, are you insane?"

Playfully offended, Eric tosses his hands into the air and says, "Okay, sorry. Forgot meeting at restaurants was a much safer option, as has thoroughly been demonstrated to us."

His jovialness is hardly appreciated.

The two of you turn a corner and after only a few more steps, you stop in front of a door. Neither of you move, and after a couple of long, unnecessarily drawn out moments Eric looks at you and says, "Okay. We're here. Knock."

"Is it weird that I'm scared?"

He rolls his eyes, a seemingly common reaction from him in regards to you now. "Oh my god." His fist pounds on the door—far more loudly than you think is really necessary given that this whole operation is meant not to draw attention—and then before the door even begins to draw open, Eric begins his journey back the way you came.

"You're not waiting!?" It's something in between a necessary whisper and a displeased yell, and all he gives you in reply to it is a big grin and a shrug.

Time draws on so slowly that you easily lose track of how much goes by with you perched up outside of the room. How many seconds has it been? A minute, perhaps? You don't know. Beneath your skin, your veins feel like fire in anticipation of what's to come. Maybe he's asleep, maybe Eric was wrong and the person that is soon to greet you is the angry face of a manager that somehow knew that all of this was taking place. A heavy exhale leaves you and it's shaky with uncertainty. You shouldn't be here, you can still leave… and yet, you can't. No matter what.

There's a click from behind the door and your heart nearly stops. It begins to pry open slowly, and though you aren't quite able to make out what lies beyond, the thing that does come to you is the gentle waft of warm steam and the noise beyond that grows louder as it widens.

An arm slips out, hand grasping your sweatshirt by the sleeve and forcefully dragging you inside.

What awaits you hidden away in those walls is a flurry of lips, teeth and hands.

Neither of you say a word and Sunwoo's mouth finds yours in a flash. His hands are warm and wet; hastily slipping beneath your sweater and tearing it upwards to rid you of the bothersome thing. With a pounding heart and chest that feels suffocatingly tight, you completely let go and relent to what he intends to give you; it's been far too long, you put up enough of a fight, and as far as you are concerned… This is the other side of a battle well-fought.

Beside you, the bathroom door is left ajar—a shower still running hot inside of it. The taste of beer still lingers faintly on Sunwoo's tongue as you revisit a place you have been so many times before. His skin is damp, warm; and droplets of water hopelessly cling to long, black clumps of curls that dangle in front of his eyes.

But more than anything else, he is relentless in his pursuit.

Sunwoo's fingers dig at the button of your jeans and though you make the effort to aid him in the task, it is already completed by the time your hands find their way there. His movements are hurried and clumsy; needy and rushed that aren't entirely unlike him but nothing that you have quite seen before. Teeth nip at your bottom lip and your body melts into the feeling of his hands smoothing over the skin of your sides. When your head falls back, he takes it as the perfect opportunity to drag his lips down the expanse of your throat; kissing, nipping… Maybe even marking. 

You should care. You should find the strength to take the reins of this and bring it back to a place that isn't so desperate with careless need.

But you don't.

Dragging you into the bathroom, Sunwoo's mouth barely leaves your skin even for a second. Fingers disappear beneath the top of your jeans and they are quickly shimmied from your legs, discarded and quickly forgotten. Right along with all other intimates you had been hiding underneath.

Once you are finally disrobed, the towel tied at Sunwoo's hips is the next to fall away. His hands come back up to cradle your face, the urgency behind his actions slows to nearly a halt, and he kisses you again unlike any of the times before.

It isn't want that hangs shackled behind this motion, but something far more delicate and sensitive to the touch. This is adoration, it's regret, it's something raw and exposed and meant only for you, and you, alone.

It feels like love.

Sunwoo presses you to step backwards, and so you follow suit. The water is hot and jarring to your skin as it cascades down upon you. Never letting go, the persistence once again finds its way within his motions and once chaste kisses are replaced with tongue and teeth and a need to feel you in all of the ways he has been so desperate for before.

Your palms press into the flesh of his chest and the mere amount of muscle that rests underneath. Sunwoo is overwhelming in his insistence on all things, and being a lover is no different. The air is heavy around you with moisture in a way that makes it difficult to breathe, inebriated by the combination of both it and his desire to have you.

As your touch wanders, so does his. You slip down towards his waist and settle at his hips, now starkly aware of the fact that neither of you have a single garment covering your forms. All of your shared intimacy up until this point has been quick and to the point with little time afforded to revel in the joy of exploring one another's bodies. All of this is new to you, entirely uncharted waters await.

You feel his fingertips light and gentle as they slip down the front of your body and towards the space between your legs. Sunwoo's touch is shockingly delicate given the way his lips slot against your own. The feeling of his hands on your skin, his body pressing harder, firmer against your own dizzies you nearly out of the ability to think clearly. You've wanted this for so long; tried to fight it and lied to everyone—including yourself—in an attempt to win the war waging between you.

Sliding a hand up his back, you bury fingers deep within his hair. Sunwoo groans into your open mouth as a result of the touch and the sound of him like this—the look of him with lustful, half-lidded eyes and lips plump from abuse—sends a wanting chill down your spine that all but has you melting into putty in his hands.

When he goes in to connect your lips once more, you keep the hold of his head in your hands firm, disallowing him from doing so. The thought has lingered in the darkest recesses of your mind ever since his touch fell upon you; a dutiful thing that—while ugly and untimely—simply cannot be ignored.

"I…" you begin to say, and even just that much is sputtered out in a directionless way, with no clear path to follow. Sunwoo looks at you tentatively and with unwavering interest. All that you can hope for is that what you have to say will not shutter it away—rightfully, and for good.

"I…" you start again, forcing the rest of the confession out past the painful dryness in your throat. "I slept with Juyeon." Tears begin to form but you refuse to let them come. Crying on account of your own actions feels manipulative even if the intent to be so is not truly there. Your lip trembles as you continue with the words. "After the article, the pictures… I—"

Sunwoo's face twists into a mixture of things as he looks at you: confusion, disbelief, but most of all… indifference. "I don't fucking care," he says, firm and resolute. His hands clasp your face all over again and he kisses you hard, pulls back, and then reiterates it again: "I don't fucking care about that."

Your back finds the smooth tile of the shower wall shortly thereafter, and Sunwoo's hand falls down once more  to fit between your legs. The gasp that slips away from your lips is immediately taken in by his own through fervent kisses and the ever so slight but pleased grin that twists at his mouth. Knees that feel gelatinous threaten to no longer be able to hold your weight, the arousal pooling where he touches you leaving your senses feeling stifled past anything but him. You can no longer hear the sounds of the water beating down or smell the faint hint of floral shampoo that once seemed so strong in the air; only slightly panting breaths just beside your ear and alcohol that has long since been consumed.

Sunwoo's fingers are long and slender, inching down and then slowly inside in an effort to have you melting around them. Tension drops from your shoulders as he does, your head falling back against the wall and his lips quick to taste the exposed skin there. That all-too-knowing curl follows—heel of his palm firm against the dull throb that begs for attention—this place has been visited between the two of you so many times before, and Sunwoo's expertise in the matters of having you come undone this way are fully on display.

His free hand finds your thigh and the feeling of his fingernails gently gripping into the flesh there as your body craning off the wall and harder up against his, but the pleading groan that drips from him afterwards is the final straw of your quickly dwindling sense of composure.

In your mind, the way you say his name sounds stronger than the actuality of it; broken, pathetic, and little more than a whimper.

"God, I want…"

Sunwoo doesn't finish the thought but you already know precisely what he means by it. This is quickly spiraling out of control should either of you hope to walk away from this with good decisions having been made. There is no push for more being made save for the idle desperation felt from his fingertips raking at your thigh. He wants more—knows neither of you have walked into this situation amply prepared for that—and worst of all, so do you.

And throwing all caution to the wind; a victim of being drunk with history, regret, and arousal, you find his warm, wet lips all over again to kiss him with silent, unspoken confidence and intent.

"I don't care," you whisper against them.

The reaction that follows is nothing short of a culmination of things, none of which are ill-suited for the situation at hand. Sunwoo's head falls back, eyes rolling as if some part of him had been holding out hope for the fact that you might be better than him—better than this. You're not, neither is he; and though it may be poor decision making at its finest, when his gaze drops down to find yours again, there is a sort of sinister hunger now sitting behind his eyes.

You know Sunwoo well enough to know he wouldn't dare to broach the subject on his own, but your willingness to put it on the table for yourself is simply too much for him to be able to deny.

The grip becomes strong, creating space for his hips between your legs as the hand once there moves to himself. His chest presses against your own, lips ghosting across yours as you feel the careful first push inside.

"Can't tell you no," he says softly, breath escaping him through the words as he sinks deeper into your body. "I've been dying to give you anything you want."

Feeling him bury into you, the closeness of your bodies, and the heat of your surroundings has you dizzy with need. Your hands slide up the hot, wet skin of his back with nails fast to dig in and find purchase against the muscles just below. They flex and move beneath your touch, tense with strength to hold you open for him and shifting with every slow, concentrated drive of himself into you. The friction of each drag blurring your vision, oxygen thick and hard to take into your lungs through the steam that continues to form.

Once frenzied kisses fall to the wayside in favor of open mouth panting and a repeated chorus of whines, groans and moans. Sunwoo watches your expressions intently for any hint of how to take you further as he settles into a more demanding, conscious pace. "Feel good?" he asks, voice low and labored, intonation matching with every press of his hips against yours. 

The answer is written all over your face, given away with every sound that falls away from you and every deep drag of your nails against his back. He'll likely walk away from this encounter with rows of evidence to show for the fact, and you can only hope that there's nothing in his immediate future that might cause that being known.

Even just thinking about it has his name escaping you in a desperate plea for more of him.

"Keep doing that and I'm gonna come," Sunwoo says, a hedonistic growl laced through his tone. "But I need to feel you fall apart on me first." His lips drag across the flesh of your jaw, teeth lightly sinking in as he continues fucking you through the way his words make you tighten around him. "Then I'll have you moaning my name as much as you want."

Your muscles tense, the need for release teetering on the edge of unbearable to the point that your body aches from the tension. Nails dig deeper into him, so much so that he winces at the feeling but never once relents, and taking matters into his own hands, Sunwoo presses you harder against the wall in anticipation for how unrelenting his drives become. Faster, longer, fuller strokes that have you coming undone at a breakneck pace. Any control of your volume immediately falls to the wayside and is amplified by the bathroom echo—so just as quickly, Sunwoo fits his palm snugly across your mouth.

His eyes fixate on yours, completely in tune to the feeling and movement of your body as he works to bring you over the edge. Eyes blown out with lust and need and a sort of carnal desire to have and acquire something that he has, to some degree, always believed to be his.

"Come on," he urges, "Come for me, your body's begging for it."

Once loud moans dissipate into a silent cry through your release. It shakes you, rattles your body almost painfully as it rips through you. Any concept of your surroundings completely melts away for those few, slow seconds following the intensity that wrecks your body. Sunwoo never stops, never slows as he continues to fuck you through it without so much as a falter; and the gasps you find do cuminate into a breathless, pathetic chant of his name just as he so desired.

But he can't continue through it much longer, in the haze of your immediate aftermath you can feel the shake to his strength, the tremble of his breaths as his own end rushes to find him. The once easy rhythm to his hard drives into you are quickly dissembling; his head drops, forearm pressed to the wall beside your head like the additional assistance to his stance is needed.

Watching him unravel like this is delectable in ways you never could have possibly anticipated.

"Gonna come," he whines, "I'll pull—"

"Don't."

Your insistence for otherwise has his hips stuttering, head dropping down to just beside yours as he growls through the logical resistance of it. Hands once firms against his back slide down to his hips, guiding him forward and urging him to do precisely as you have instructed.

"Fuck." The exasperation sounds punched out of his chest, aching and craving for exactly what you've offered him. His head snaps back up, the hand against the wall then curling around to lightly grip into your hair as hungry lips once again find your own. All teeth and tongue and groans into your mouth as his drives once again find the speed and depth they had before. "Want me to come inside you?" he says, words filthy and coated with venom on his tongue. "Want me to take you, want me to really make you mine?"

And the airy yes that escapes from you is just as sinful.

Confirmation is all he needs, the simple word echoing against the shower walls as Sunwoo buries himself hard and deep inside of you. Laborious pants draft over your mouth, his chest rising and falling in quick succession with every aching throb of release that shakes him. He pulls from you only just a bit before pressing forward fully again, and an anguished whimper dies in his throat for the last time.

Basking in the immediate aftermath, there is only silence now. Your chests rise and fall with the hope of finally finding the calmness of breath that you seek, and slowly breaking apart your bodies, Sunwoo hisses at the feeling of loss and then suspiciously squints at you.

"Oh, you're a freak, huh?"

You deadpan.

"Says the guy with a fire-hot possessive streak."

"Very normal kink to have, I'll have you know." He inches his face closer to yours again, lingers in the space just between your mouths and then quickly pecks a kiss there. "Sure worked for you."

Gently shoving him backwards and into the stream of water, you roll your eyes and relent to the most obvious thing of all. "I guess I should have known that the mouthiest guy I know would be no different… In other aspects."

"Yes, you should have," Sunwoo agrees, and annoyingly so. "And as much-needed as this was and a great reunification gift… I guess we've got a whole lot more talking that we need to do."

The sound of his voice in the latter half of the realization is so far from the strength and confidence displayed only moments before. Sunwoo's eyes fall away from yours like he doesn't have the courage to face you, nor the choices you have made. Juyeon had insisted that this day would come, and though you had eventually relented to accepting that fact, suppose you had expected there to be just a bit more time spanning in between. Time for it to feel further in the past, time for it to feel less like a wound still trying to scab.

You offer a small and forced smile then say, "Lets get cleaned up, I want to enjoy this for a little while longer."

Sunwoo crawls into bed beside you last, tending to the last minute prep of your final moments together like this. You are unable to spend the night here and are expected to be found in your room by the time a manager makes his way to retrieve you in the morning. You'll be tired, the wear of the long evening will certainly show on your face… But it was worth it, without a doubt in your mind.

The television flickers on and a program that you neither recognize nor understand flashes onto the screen just as the light to the room is harshly shut off. It smells faintly of him; clothing, cosmetics, fragrances scattered about as far as the eye can see with little care for the place that they happen to land. Comforting and familiar within the coffin of a secret you no longer hold.

Slipping in beside you, Sunwoo's head falls daintily to the side as he offers you a tight-lipped smile. His arm falls over the front of you—laid out on your back and spending the majority of your time staring towards the ceiling.

Tip-toeing back through the memory of how it is that the two of you arrived here.

"So," he says, and his voice is so quiet that you almost don't even hear him. "Tell me."

But there's no strength behind those words, and that sinks into your chest with a weight far heavier than anything you could have anticipated. Sunwoo wants to know because he feels like he needs to; not through jealousy or even anger, but because of the very same reason that Juyeon knew to be true.

"I was angry." Staring up at the darkness of the ceiling, from here it looks as though it can carry on forever. A part of you wishes that you could disappear into it, leaving all of this behind, but the tender curl of Sunwoo's fingertips into the flesh of your stomach remind you to be present and that being here just might be worth it, after all.

"I had actually just gotten back from meeting with my friend, one of the girls that met with Eric backstage. We talked about you. Talked about us." You pause, remembering that day. Inhaling deeply, you continue on. "I got home and the girls showed me. I mean, what else was I meant to think?"

Turning your head, your eyes find his. Light from the TV flashes across them in an almost mesmerizing way. Easy to get lost in, easy to forget that all of this has been, and will continue to be, so hard.

"So, I was hurt, and I was angry, because I thought how can he be saying all of this to me while doing this behind my back? It's not as though we've never talked about you and other women, so I figured if there would ever be someone else, you'd at least respect me enough to say as much. It just felt like a knife to the back, after everything."

"You wanted payback," Sunwoo reasons.

"Yeah, and what better way to cash in, I guess."

"Fucking my friend?" The words are jarring when you hear them despite the light and comical way that he delivers it. Sunwoo rolls his eyes, sighs, and says, "Sure, that'll do it."

"Are you mad?"

"No." Inching closer, Sunwoo's lips ghost just beside your ear to say, "I came inside you." But as if the consideration has only just found him, he reels back suddenly, startled and says, "Wait, did he…?"

You shove him with nearly enough strength to have him falling out of the bed completely.

"No! Are you insane?"

The giggle that follows is annoying and presumptuous in its intent, but true, nonetheless. Sunwoo crawls his way back to snugly fit his body against yours and says, "See, you like me. What's there to be mad about? All jokes aside though, the whole situation is shit and obviously I know how it looks, so I can't really blame you for acting out. I mean, sure, I kinda wish you didn't fuck Tall, Scary and Handsome because that's a whole lot to try and compete with, but Juyeon's nice. He's a good guy. He probably had a whole lot to say about it, too."

Your eyes shut slowly at the recollection. "Yeah, he certainly does… Think about things."

"I take solace in the fact that you had to suffer for it in some way."

In silence, the two of you lay together for many long moments. Sunwoo's finger traces shapes over the expanse of your skin idly, lost in thought much like yourself, if you had to guess as much. Your mind has been heavy since long before your arrival here and the subsequent actions taken thereafter; but now that they have occurred, your thoughts have muddled and congealed past the point of being recognizable to you.

Turning your head to look at him again, you find the courage to say the thing that maybe—for a long time now—you've really wanted to say.

It isn't permanent, just speaking it aloud, but it certainly does feel that way.

"I don't think I want to be an idol anymore."

Sunwoo's hand slowly comes to a stop.

a/n: fun fact but this shower scene was The Scene that this whole entire thing spawned from, and now we're finally here. escape by tbz the perfect listening vibes for it 😋

[sdv-confessions]

Seeing alot of discourse so, I'm gonna say something about all the characters i can remember myself, to try n lighten the mood!

Sam would use a LOT of emojis when texting. i mean Look at him. he also gets very insecure about how he comes across after sending texts.

sebastians bong no longer exists because he kept smoking up his room and it got confiscated because just walking in could render someone high.

I think Abigail could probably bake decently! no clue if its been said otherwise or not, i just think she would be able to. she also would be an amazing reptile/bug parent, please give our homegirl a katydid to care for.

Robin, she's a decent cook but theres some things she absolutely can't make. she's sometimes tasteblind and thats fine. Also no doubt, but she smells like burnt wood constantly.

Demetrius can bake, really well for some reason, but he also sucks at certain baking activities. he's also judges food very bluntly, if he dislikes it, you'll know, BUT if he realized he upset you, he'll try and give you tips on how to improve it.

Maru, she also likes motorcycles like Sebastian does, but she'd rather put one together than buy one. it's just more interesting in the long run.

Jodi, I don't know much about her. but I can definitely see her giving tips and stuff when she can to other parents in town.

Kent, I really think he'd like oatmeal raisin cookies? I also don't know much about him, i love oatmeal raisin cookies myself. i think he'd like cross stitching, even if he isn't good at it.

Pam, I think she and Willy hang out on occasion to fish together, chat about old times because it makes her happy, i also don't think she gets on well with alot of the other townsfolk in recent times since she seems to be quite self isolated like her own daughter. so the times she does talk with others can lighten her day, She also has a habit of being abit rude to those she cares for in a joking manner.

Willy! That man and Clint are friends, Good friends! though I don't think Willy is on bad terms with Anyone. besides being annoyed with lewis sometimes, but he still cares for him. something tells me he likes knitting scarfs and mittens. but thats when he isn't able to fish. He can't knit a sweater and he swears he gets worse every time he tries.

Clint, i think Clint is also good at baking, though he surprisingly has a habit of burning his hands, keeps thinking he can grab the pans he's using without consequences. i think his favorite to make would be Blueberry or Carrot muffins :]]

Emily! she tries her best constantly, and is actually very nervous of how to make a good first impression, but she also acts on impulse which can be a rocky mix. i think she really likes roller skating, Haley probably does to, so its probably one of tbe activities she cherishes because its time she can spend with her sister.

Haley, It think she'd actually really be able to get into the punk/rock scene if you take the time to introduce her to it. she wouldn't change up her style no, but she'd be able to enjoy something outside of her usual comfort zone.

Alex. i think he couldn't roller skate for the life of himself. and would take alot of time to accept help in learning how to. but he doesn't want to admit it because he has an easy time ice skating and thinks he should be able to roller skate just fine.

George, He likes to go rock picking, and when i say that I'm not just saying that because of how many rocks he gived you, i think he likes to search for agates, has afew glass containers full of his favorite finds, And wouldn't admit it, but he'd be really happy when people join him in the little hobby kf searching

Evelyn, i think she actually really likes fishing, and used to fish at some point, but can't really do it nowadays, but i think she'd like to hang out near the river and talk to Willy when he's there.

Marnie, she's a heavy metal girl, she secretly knows so many metal bands it would surprise you. she'd be elated in a surprized reaction from whoever she's telling. She knows alot of niche bands aswell.

Shane, he once got an eyebrow piercing, but it rejected so badly he couldn't build the courage to get any other form of piercing for ages, He does now have ear piercings though.

Pierre, he has really bad luck, and by that i mean he's extremely clumsy, He walks into so many things, accidentally shuts cupboards and doors on his fingers or foot. curses like a sailor afterwards, likes to jokingly blame Joja for bizarre happenings as abit of an inside joke. Also he's the one usually cooking.

Caroline, THAT WOMAN, i fully believe she knows kick boxing, i just, get that vibe from her. She totally would, She also does most of the hard work around the house as her husband sits around looking pretty. Strong lady, can't convince me otherwise.

WIZARD, He can't cook, not at all, he keeps saying he'll learn, but its just not working for him, It should be just as easy as potions right? No, but he is really good at making tea. he has several blends he favors, and he wishes to share them with someone again someday.

Morris? He actually does feel abit bad for the inhabitants of pelican town, be he can't pinpoint why, so he blames it on the idea that he's just sorry they won't accept Joja. as mean as he is, i do think he has a heart somewhere beneath the Joja logo in his chest cavity 😔 I think he's also the son of the CEO. But I also think he worked Really really hard to get to his position. Morris also has a habit of not actually getting sleep. like, to the point he'll just crash in the work place and get woken by an employee clocking in, Usually Shane. Because Yoba knows Shane wouldn't hesitate to dig in to the fact Morris was sleeping on the Job. Morris used to have slight buck teeth but got them shaven down, (This is lowkey because of an inside joke that takes a LOAD of different characters from different fandoms and chucks them into the same family, because they have similar characteristics.)

FIZZZZ, theres not much on him, But i think he likes to play up on the stuff he does, such as practically scarying the player, He's playing it up, Morris is scared of him. but also has mad respect for him. I know that just because they're some of the only Joja workers that aren't exactly important, that i shouldn't immediately decide they know eachother, BUUUUT, I think they're actually friends, like, MORRIS crashed on Fizz's couch often, his own house was too far back in zuzu city for him to get there on time and still have enough time to sleep, and that they'd also be friends with Dobson if he was part of the game. Though Dobson wouldn't share the sentiment .

Dobson. Dobson should be real, Not just left in code. Thats not a headcanon, just sadness. But I think that if he was in the game, he'd be even harder to convince of not being a member of the Joja workforce than Morris or Fizz would be, he'd be Devoted to it. absolutely devoted. Theres a cardboard cutout of a heart in his chest, and when you turn it around Joja. Co is written across the back in blaring blue ink.

The Cashier girl! She actually is good friends with Sam, Sam was helping her come out of her shell while she worked there, but, when Joja mart is ran outta town, she had to leave aswell since she just oustide of town, (someone help her she had to drive quite the ways to work.) She HATES Joja but she needed the income. She doesn't hate anyone who works under joja, but aren't high ranking ranking, she pities them knowing they aren't actually evil, just, stuck in a hard work environment. I agree that her name is Carrie, it just suits her.

Gunther, That man is literally so gay, You can't tell me otherwise, that man is a fruit. Also, he is related to the guy who sells mermaid pendants, something tell me they are.

Elliot, he's learned how to fish from Willy. he was more than thankful to be taught, i think he's been learning alot from afew of the residents, Like Evelyn, and Caroline, i think they taught him how to Garden, Leah told him alot about nature. Abigail Sebastian, and Marlon told him how to get out of a pickle if he's dealing with monsters if he ever gets stuck in the mines.

Linus, I think everything i can say for him is expected, but i think he used to take great joy in crocheting.

Leah? I'm shocked to say i know nothing about her and i can't make an accurate judgement, same goes for Harvey.

Sorry if I left anyone out, and I'm sorry its easy to tell which characters i am hyperfxating on. peace out. - 🔹️

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