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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 2 years ago

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Hello! I only recently found your blog and after much back and forth with myself decided to send this ask.

Trigger Warning for CSA and ED.

I suppose I'm looking for advice, a third party's thoughts? Also to get it off my chest.

I apologize in advance if this it too much for anyone reading, I know i still struggle to make heads or tails with it.

i had this epiphany a few years back, just before covid hit and as I had just moved into my own place for the first time. Ever since I was a little girl I've always had these unexplainable to my older self weird thoughts about sex.

During this epiphany I realized that my entire life, as long as I can remember-since approximately 5 to 6 years old - I have had rape fantasies. With myself as the victim. Very explicit, very violent just.. all around bad.

It had always troubled me but it had never been registered as something that needed more thought. It was more of a "Huh, you sure were quirky growing up!".

So during this epiphany it clicked to me: how could a child, from a good family, not suffocated, neither sheltered but raised by good folk, even KNOW not only what sex is, but also what rape is? Those thoughts dont come about naturally while watching Pokémon or Catdog.

So I started looking back. I really tried to make myself think.

I made myself picture little be getting abused. At first i suspected the men in my family. Uncle, grandad, even my dad.

It didn't click. Except when i thought about my grandad. At noons we used to sleep together. He'd read to me and it'd be our down time.

But it wasn't HIM who was triggering me ( God knows I'd die for that man i love him so much). It was his bedroom and his bed.

I realized suddenly that it wasn't a man that made me feel so.. uncomfortable? Like.. vomiting? Like.. these thoughts gave me this profound sense of doom and melancholy? I can't explain it.

But the person who came up was my cousin. She was only a few years older than me and she'd also live with our grandparents (their houses were in the same building).

I realized that when i was around 5 she would make me watch porn. The first time i ever watched it it was a traumatizing thing i realize. Not only did my body not know how to respond at this young age (it did get a reaction out of me which makes me feel fifty different types of sick) but I was shocked by the image of this man's penis. That night when i slept with my mum I couldn't sleep because i feared I'd see his thing in my dream and that my mum would know I'd done something bad! I'd blurt it out while dreaming! It was horrible.

A few days next mum took us shopping. While alone in the dressing room I had a sort of... Idk.. attack? Meltdown? She had given me to try on this faux leather skirt and I just got so enraged by it! I started angry crying and iirc hitting myself (?) Only now do i realise it was because the woman in the video was wearing a leather skirt.

My cousin also had this "massage wand" which for the life of me idk if it was a legit vibrator of my aunt or indeed a massage tool. But i remember her laying on her bed with her legs open (still dressed) and the thing between her legs. (When i told my bestie about this she tried to make me understand that she was indeed masturbating but God even writing this now it feels fake. It feels like an overreaction!)

My cousin would also make us play Husband and Wife. She'd be the husband first. She'd get on top of me and just stroke my arms, or act like she was kissing me. Sometimes she'd make me put a pillow on top of me and hug it like it was my husband.

But the worst was when she'd make ME be the husband. Id have to..idk how to describe it. I'd have to be active? I'd have to move my hips and talk and just be on top. We were clothed we weren't doing anything. But by God I just feel it in my bones This is why I have body dysmorphia. This is why my disordered eating started. This is why now I have trouble feeling feminine and just the thought of a single masculine characteristic on me sends me spiraling. I hate the idea of having anything masculine on me or being described as such! It makes me feel like back then.

Even now typing all this out.. I can't believe it. What if I'm misremembering? What if I'm the one creating false memories? What if I'm doing it for attention? Whose attention you'll ask since only now did i find the courage to tell SOLELY my best friend. Well, I'll say... I don't know.

I cannot connect the image of my childhood, happy as it was, because it was! I was loved and still am by my parents. My entire extended family are learned, progressive, loving people. I always felt like i got the lottery with my folks. I cannot make this make sense while adding my realizations into the mix.

I like my cousin! I even love her! We are close (considering we have our own thing happening in life). She is my family, my blood! She feels the same.

I dont know what to feel.

And I've also heard that children who are perpetrators of CSA (not only when they're so young do they Not mean any harm bc they're kids too) but also they had to learn all that from somewhere, from someone!

So.. did she also suffer? Do I need to start having suspicions about others hurting her?

Does she need help? Does she even remember?

I cannot tell anyone. It would ruin our family and my parents would be devastated. My mum she.... She'd legit lose her mind to learn that someone had hurt me this way!

Do you guys have any thoughts? Am i crazy? Am i making it up? Am i creating the memories? God knows it affects me in all aspects of life so.. there has to be Something there, right?!

Feel free to post this as a post for your followers to answer too. Im okay with it.

Just typing it out was cathartic.

I'm sorry to anyone burdened with reading something so light-hearted. And thank you for taking the time to read and answer.

I hope whoever it is on the other side reading has a good day. And Thank You.

-Bess

p.s.

Because I get very illogically anxious very often, if by any chance my eyes are deceiving me, or tumblr crashes or whatever and by accident this post doesn't get submitted Anonymously (as I intend it to) could you please refrain from posting it? I would really thank you for that!

Okay bye now! And Thank You again for the help 💙

Hi Bess,

I'm so sorry about what you've been through. Please know that you're not alone.

It's incredibly difficult to navigate some potential early childhood trauma. It sounds like you probably aren't making this up because you seem to be able to identify what doesn't click or make sense. Often, trauma tends to have strong emotional or visceral responses, like you described, nausea and discomfort. These feelings suggest that the memories could be authentic.

it's hard to accept that you've been through trauma because of its implications, and that's understandable, but it's also important for your healing to work through the process of grief at your own pace. Also please know that just because you may have otherwise had a good childhood with a strong support network around you, doesn't mean that you couldn't have been traumatized or that your trauma isn't valid.

You are right that COCSA perpetrators tend to be CSA survivors themselves, because their behavior is, in some way, learned from elsewhere. But please remember that this does not excuse perpetuating that abusive behavior. Regardless of what may have happened to your perpetrator, it doesn't change the fact that they hurt you.

It's your story so it's up to you who to tell or not tell, but just know that other peoples emotions are not your responsibility, so if someone is devastated to hear what happened, that is not your fault. Additionally, it's worth considering that you are not to blame for telling your truth, rather your cousin is to blame for their actions that you are merely conveying.

Ultimately, it's important to make sure that you can get any help you need during this time, in terms of exploring trauma and maintaining your mental health. If you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist can help you process your traumas, the feelings and questions surrounding them, and develop ways to cope and move forward with these memories.

Please remember that you are not crazy, and know that we believe you. If anyone has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #bess #tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw sa #tw csa #tw cocsa #tw incest

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nanaminsonyfans · 4 years ago

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Comfort Headcanons

masterlist

a/n; not requested but i need this rn. its more of a vent piece rather than anything else. as for the second half, those are personally all my thoughts and worries with my scars. like a i, a vent piece.

warning; mention of periods, s*lf harm, scars, and poor body image.

Being on your period with him

Mark

Mark came home late as usual to see you clutching his sweater he wore everyday. You were curled up in the fetal position and groaning. You looked almost dead. He got worried immediately.

"Y/n, baby." He whispers softly, wrapping his arms around you, not even bothering to take his super-suit off. You smiles a little at the comfort and warmth of him against your back and waist.

"Yes?" "What's wrong?" "Cramps...." You mumble, almost embarrassed. What if he didnt want to be around you. Even though you've been dating forever, and you usually stay at his place, that fear was always in the back of your head.

"Period?" You just nod, chewing the inside of your cheek. "What are you craving?" He was so sweet, even if you weren't craving anything and told him so, he would still get you something.

"The frozen yogurt from that place in Australia." You mumble and he gets up. "I'll be right back with that, then I'll change and cuddle. Deal?" You smile at him, he loves your smile so much.

"Deal."

Rex

Rex had been cuddling you back at the Guardian headquarters. He knew of your monthly, tracked it even. He may be a douche but he cares for his s/o.

So here he was, holding the heating pad against your waist, rubbing the balls of your hips softly. His hands were rough from being a hero but, sometimes it was nice.

The way you were secure in his arms made you feel safer than ever. You're blinks got more slow as you tried to watch the movie with your boyfriend. He chuckled softly, your back vibrating being of his laugh.

"Baby, just sleep...you'll feel better if you do." "But....'anna....'end time 'ith yous..." You slur, half awake. "You are babe. Now sleep...." Rex kisses your head softly, earning a hum from you.

"g'night...."

He sees your SH scars for the first time

Mark

You two had been dating for awhile. Not long enough to have sex just yet but, long enough to have heavy make outs. But currently you weren't doing that.

It was Mark's birthday and you took him to your family's lake house. William, Eve, and Amber came too. It was easier to convince your parents that way.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror.

The swimsuit was cute, it suited any body type, but it showed a little too much...of your hips for your liking. You shook your head.

You did everything to try and get rid of the scars. Coconut oil? didnt work. Foundation? Also didnt, pls you were going swimming. Bandages? too obvious-

You were snapped out of your thoughts when there was a knock on the door.

"Hey, Y/n, you gonna come out yet?" "In-In a second!" You panicked. Fuck! You cant go out. it went from your hip to a little bit of your thigh. He was gonna fucking notice-

"Are you okay? I'm coming in-" "No dont-!"

He came in. At first he was awestruck by you. You looked amazing in that! His eyes wondered and he saw.

Yeah you had a few scars on your arms, but those healed, they werent as discolored as the ones on your hips. Didn't help that you would basically relapse every other week.

"Y/n-" "I-I know...you probably think I'm ugly an-and an attention whore and you dont want to be with me anymore. That's fine- i wouldn't want me either-"

His soft fingers trailed across the scars. Mark placed a small kiss on your forehead, a small yet sympathetic smile.

"I love you. Nothing will change that. Okay?" He says with those amazing eyes. Eyes that were telling the truth.

"Okay."

Rex

This man was handsy. So if you relapsed, the next day he knew, or he knew something was up. You opened up about it once, but he said he didnt care, as long as you were okay.

You weren't okay.

After a relapse, the next day you would cuddle Rex, his hands would go to your hips and you would flinch, then wince. It stung.

You never bothered to clean it because, you deserved this. Everything bad happening to you was of your doing.

You knew you were a horrible person. You didnt know why the fuck Rex would he with someone LIKE you. What the fuck made you special? You don't deserve any of this love or happiness.

And thats why you relapse. Because you dony deserve it. You dont deserve Rex, your friends, or being a superhero.

Right now, you were cuddling Rex. You had shorts on that were riding up a tad, showing more of your thigh. You didn't notice that your scars and discoloration from said scars were visible, until Rex's thumb grazed eyes over it.

"Y/n...you said you stopped..." You thought he was disappointed in you. Who wouldn't be? Plus you fucking lied to him. But no, it was just concern.

"I-I know and im sorry." You whisper and grab his hand, pulling it away. "You probably dont want me now. I'm ugly. I'll never be as attractive as Eve or Mark or Kate or-or..."

You cried as you stumbled over your words, cursing at yourself.

"Stop it." Rex looked stern. "I love you. You could be a turtle for all i care and id still love you. Even if that is beastiality." "Turtles can speak-" "Yeah but...." You let out a small giggle.

"Whatever." Rex grumbled with a slight smile. "But, no matter what, i will love you. Forever. Okay?" You nod, hugging him. "Just....come to me next time?"

"I'll try." "That's all i ask for..."

#invincible #mark grayson #rex splode #rex sloan #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #rex splode x reader #rex sloan x reader

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jossambird · 3 years ago

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The Scent on your coat P4

Summary: You reflect on your life choices, and despite your wants, Life had other plans for you.

Otto Octavius x F!Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: NS/FW Subjects, No Doc in this Chapter (or is there) but building to the next part, mentions of emotional Reader, heartbreak, yearning for things you can’t have.

Ao3 Fic Link for previous parts, or on my masterlist!

“I've only ever wanted you.” You repeated into the silence of your apartment, barely listening to the news that played on tv. Images of various villains flittered on the screen, your eyes falling on the one face you couldn’t stop seeing behind your eyelids. You shut the tv off with a huff, eyes watering at the whole mess.

Hands slinging your blanket over your back, you bundled yourself up and sat in bed, pulling your other blanket over your legs and feet. You couldn’t even begin to find the correct words for just how much you had missed Otto.

Even after all this time, Otto remained as handsome as he had been the last time you had seen him all those dreadful months ago. His soft brown hair that shined red in the sunlight, his gorgeous brown eyes that used to always seek you out in a crowd.

You sighed, replaying his words in your mind. Did he mean everything he had said? He had never been a liar, that you knew…

For weeks after his accident, you had thought him dead. For months, you had listened to the radio and new outlets, slandering his work and very career once he had emerged, tentacles and all, turning to a life of crime.

How long had you mourned him, mourned the fragile friendship you had had together, mourned his work but most importantly, mourned your love for him? It had taken weeks, months even, to finally be able to step back into this laboratory and work, and not be pitied by every living soul here.

They had all known of your deep and dark secret, the love you had held so dear for the Scientist, but stayed silent.. all except for one.

Peter Parker. Sweet Peter Parker, always there for you no matter, always asking if you needed help or a shoulder to cry on, always asking how you were holding up with everything.

It had been Peter, of all people, who had saved you from the endless internal darkness that had started to consume you slowly but surely, depression sinking its claws into you and pushing you towards dangerous thoughts.

He, who had asked you if you wanted to go see a movie together. He, who had walked you home every night afterwards, only ever smiling and offering his arm whilst you tried to say it was okay.

He, who had tentatively asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend that one summer night after a quiet walk, knowing full well how your heart held a part of itself for another.

It was he, who had kissed your lips, reassuring you that he understood what it felt like, having already lost the love of his life too.

And so, telling yourself that maybe this was what you needed to finally forget Octavius, you had given him a chance; slowly taking your time together and learning about one another, becoming closer and closer by the passing day.

Peter’s secret identity hadn't been kept from you long after you noticed Spiderman arriving at your Oscorp to walk you home, just like Peter did. He had practically fallen off a building when you asked out loud if he was done stalking you like a creep, his laugh echoing softly in the noisy New York streets.

“Aren’t you afraid a villain will come and kidnap me Pe- Spiderman?” You had asked him, grinning even though your heart clenched at the idea of *one* villain kidnapping you. Thoughts like those were burned and shooed away, trying to focus on the good and kind man that loved you.

“Don’t worry, Ill always protect you Y/N.” He assured you with a whisper, bowing his head as you stepped inside your shared apartment complex.

You had come to love him too, in a way, over time.

Your first time together was the moment you realized your heart was irreparable; Peter’s hands were on your hips, holding you softly as he fucked you but in that moment, another man’s name found itself on your lips, a name all too familiar to you, trying to make its way out and into the air between you. You hadn’t let it, swallowing both it and your shame down, sorrow coursing through you as Peter called out your name.

A few days later, on an early September day, as you turned away from the amazing view from your apartment window, the wind blowing your hair from your face, you had felt it; Nervous energy in the air, shudders wracking your body.

Peter Parker asked you to marry him on the same balcony moments after.

No amount of preparation would have ever prepared you for the absolute heartbreak you had felt as the man before you wore bruises shaped like claws, deep cuts and barely fading scars, crooked grin smiling up at you with a ring in hand, waiting.

“I know I’m not him, and you aren’t her, but I'd like to love you for the rest of my life.”

You had sobbed under the loud noise of the shower until the water turned cold, and after.

Though now, sitting here alone in your living room, you wondered why life sought to hurt you so.

Soon you would be married to a sweet man who loved you, adored you, and all fantasies of the tall Doctor Octavius would have to be forgotten and erased.

You sighed again, burying your face into your blanketed hands, trying to will yourself to stop feeling this way. Peter deserved someone who loved him with all their heart, not someone who craved another and had let said man eat them out in their previous work place.

A knock sounded at your front door and you frowned, standing, wrapped in your blankets still, to answer.

Would it be possible… that he would come? Would he knock on the door, or simply open it, hands seeking you out and untying your robe, touching what he had already accidentally claimed?

As you turned the handle and opened the door, your inner shame grew, eyes landing on the smiling face of your best friend Allie.

“Thought Id come see how the bride-to-be was feeling! How- Oh my god Y/N what's wrong?” Allie said in a rush as she saw tears form in your beautiful eyes, stepping inside in a hurry to comfort you. You could barely let out a sob, let alone words, arms wrapping around the woman.

“Y/N, babydoll, what's going on? You can talk to me, you know that right? Nothing leaves this room, only between you and me.” Your best friend whispered, holding you tightly.

She pulled away, arms still wrapped around you but just enough to see your face, and you knew she had figured it out, knew she had pieced it together. “Oh, Y/N… It’ll be okay, it’ll go away.”

What Allie failed to know though, was that you didn’t want it to go away, still feeling his soft but firm fingers holding your thighs and ankles, kisses laid against your skin.

You didn’t want your love for Otto Octavius to disappear, just like the words of love and adoration groaned along your thighs and core, expressive brown eyes seeking yours out in desperation. Desperate for what, you still didn’t know, but it made your heart race, thinking that the renowned Doctor Octavius and villain Doctor Octopus wanted to see you reach ecstasy by his hand and his alone, desperate for only his name to find itself on your tongue.

And you felt even more horrible for it.

Allie held you close, blankets wrapped around the both of you as she flicked through channels on TV.

“Want to talk about it?” She whispered, eyes still trailed on the TV but you knew her attention was solely on you.

What was there to say in a situation like this?

“No.” You croaked out, snuggling closer against her in an effort to forget everything, forget the outside world, forget the fact that the very man you wanted most of all was also somewhere out there. You weren’t surprised when Allie sighed, the sound of the TV shutting off. She laid down beside you, worried eyes gazing back at you.

“You know, it's not…” Allie paused, breath caught in her throat at the sight of you.

“It's not abnormal for marriages to be cancelled.” She continued, her eyes flickering over your face for a sign that you were understanding her meaning. You could barely breathe as she waited, the implication of her words sounding out.

“Allie thats- Peter, he-“ you tried, heart breaking at the idea of telling Peter you could no longer marry him. Allie, the beautiful thing she was, faked a gag and rose up, sitting beside you.

“Y/N, forget Pete for the moment okay? He doesn’t exist right here, right now.” She started, turning back towards your surprised visage with a finger pointed at you.

“I will always be here for you. I know you aren’t happy… I just want you to know that it’s never too late to cancel anything.”

You cried that night, silently into your pillow, never acknowledging the words she had spoken. Allie remained with you for the next few days, never uttering another word of the subject she had begun, helping you instead prepare for your wedding.

That night, you dreamt of large hands pulling you close and whispers of love pressed against your breast, heartbeat steady as he asked the one thing you could never lie about:

“Do you love me, Y/N? Me, and only me?” He whispered, lips moving against your collarbone, heated kisses following his words.

“I've only ever loved you.” You whispered back and watched the Otto before you smile, his hold turning bruising.

New York, even at night, was never silent. Noises could be heard everywhere and anywhere, people out and about, some heading home and some heading out.

Allie liked the hustle and bustle of the town, always eager to find a new Hole-in-the-wall type of bar or restaurant to get drunk in, and tonight, after saying she wanted to make you feel better with sushi, hadn’t been any different. She hummed under her breath and dutifully followed you back to your apartment, the both of you enjoying each other’s presence.

Convenience store bags in hand, you looked back at Allie as she wobbled, her steps mismatched, a half empty beer can in hand.

“Come on Al, we're almost there!” You laughed, watching her try to Hopscotch along the street. She stopped, eyes wide and smile even wider, throwing the beer can into the air and away from the both of you, making you cringe as it hit the ground.

“Oh my god- Was that a laugh!?” She yelled happily, the smell of beer and sake wafting off of her as she ran up beside you and held you close, arms trapped in her hold. You couldn’t help but smile at your best friend, mouth opening to chastise her for littering but you didn’t have the time; a faint melody met both your ears and Allie beamed, disentangling herself from you. You barely had time to register what song it was before she leaned away, breathing in sharply and letting loose.

“You should have bought her flowers!” She sang out, words echoing in the streets around you. Sang was perhaps too kind of a word though, as she scratchily belted out Bruno Mars lyrics.

“Shh! Oh my god Allie, shhhhhhh! Shut up!” You tried, running after her as she continued back to your apartment complex, uncaring of the people passing you by.

“You should’ve held her hand! Should’ve given her all your hours!” You barely made it in time to her, free hand rising to try and quiet her, heart racing as you imagined someone hearing-

“But now she’s marrying another man!”

Her words felt like a bath of freezing cold water, any remnants of alcohol in your system instantly evaporating.

She was right. You were, and no matter what fantasies and dreams you liked to imagine, you knew that life couldn’t continue like this, childishly hoping and wishing for another man to come sweep you up.

#allie totally not based on a real friend of mine 👀#otto octavius #doc ock #doc ock x reader #otto octavius x reader #jossambird fic #doctor octavius #minors dni #f!reader #the scent on your coat fic

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gay-otlc · 4 years ago

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Can we talk about how Sophie has trichotillomania?

Because I've been involved in KOTLC fandoms for over two years and I've heard it mentioned exactly once.

Trichotillomania is a disorder characterized by uncontrollable, repetitive pulling of hair. This can be scalp hair, eyebrows, arm hair, leg hair, eyelashes, really any type of hair. Even though the person knows they aren't supposed to enjoy pulling, they get a weird sense of pleasure or calm from it, and it's difficult to stop. Pulling is frequently done in stressful situations.

Does that sound familiar to anyone? Ring any bells?

Yeah, it sounds like Sophie Foster.

In the books, it's played off as sort of just another nervous habit, a weird quirk of Sophie's. It's mentioned a few times by other friends/adult figures as they ask whether it hurts, but when she says no, they don't tell her to stop. She's often described as "pulling on an itchy eyelash," but it seems to be more of a stress response than something causing her stress.

I thought it was just another weird quirk of hers until I started pulling out my hair. I would pull it most when I was stressed, and it always felt "itchy" just before I did.

It was horrible. Trichotillomania is fucking destructive. At my worst point, I had a huge, gaping bald spot. I didn't talk to people because I was ashamed of my hair. I missed class once because I couldn't tear myself away from the mirror and stop pulling. I spent hours in front of the mirror each day, checking and checking to make sure no one would know anything was weird if they looked at me.

It was so hard. And I felt so alone.

Now, as I said before, I read KOTLC nearly three years ago and have been making fan content for over two. Suffice it to say that series means a lot to me. How do you think it would have felt, if the protagonist of this huge part of my life, was just like me, struggled like me, and it turned out okay for her? I would have had so much hope that it could get better instead of climbing and clawing for every shred of progress.

Now, how do you think it felt to see that protagonist go through something similar, but it didn't matter much to her? It made me feel like some whiny bitch for being this upset about my hair. If Sophie Foster could have trich and go through life functioning fine (well, not really, but the trich doesn't make anything worse for her is my point), why couldn't I? Pathetic.

Like most days, today is a good day to get pissed at L*ura, so I'm going to use her art as an example. This is a close up screenshot of Sophie's eye (please ignore the cursor in the middle, my computer hates me).

[Image ID: A close up picture of an brown eye. It has long, dark eyelashes surrounding it and a cursor covering the pupil.]

(Please tell me if my image ID is shit idk how to write these.)

As we can clearly see, Sophie has long, dark eyelashes. The top eyelashes are most obvious, but there's a fair amount on the bottom as well. It's been a while since I've read the books, but Sophie doesn't wear makeup much, if I recall correctly. So she probably wouldn't be wearing mascara.

Then why the fuckity fuck do her eyelashes look so, for lack of a better word, normal, when she pulls them every three paragraphs?

People with trichotillomania look like they have trichotillomania. I have a bald spot. When I did all my research on trich in an OCD spiral, one writer said she had to wear wigs. Another said she had zero eyelashes for years. Someone on here (not saying who just in case they don't want me to) said their left eyebrow was nearly gone.

I hated how I looked in the worst of my trichotillomania days. It's less noticeable now, but I still hate it. I feel like a freak, to not have hair like a 'normal' person.

Now, Sophie Foster is described as beautiful. She has all the boys and the girls after her. She's an elf, all elves are beautiful. But she pulls out her eyelashes, and she pulls out her eyelashes so often, that unless elf hair grows at really different speeds (which I doubt it would, considering that would have been very noticeable when Sophie lived with humans), she would have no or very few eyelashes.

And yet, that was erased in her official art. Why? Because apparently, people can't look like they have trich and still be beautiful.

But that's bullshit. People with trich are beautiful. I am looking in mirrors and trying to tell myself I look beautiful instead of crying. Bald spots are beautiful. Eyes without eyelashes are beautiful. Brow ridges without eyebrows are beautiful.

People with trich are beautiful, dammit!

So give us that, Shannon. Give that to your readers who don't have trich, so they understand it, and your readers who do, so they see themselves for the first time and don't feel alone.

Give us Sophie Foster thinking she's ugly and a freak because she doesn't have eyelashes, and give us Keefe or Fitz or Biana or whoever telling her she still is.

Give us Sophie Foster trying to sit on her hands, telling herself not to pull, doing it anyway, and hating herself.

Give us Sophie Foster standing in front of the mirror and crying because she can't stop, she can't stop.

Give us Sophie Foster seeking help and trying to get better, trying to heal.

Give us Sophie Foster trying and relapsing and trying and relapsing and trying and relapsing and trying.

If you're going to give us Sophie Foster with trichotillomania, give us a character with trichotillomania.

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blushingreid · 4 years ago

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First Date

Spencer x Fem!Reader

Part 1: Meet Cute

A/N: as requested by many of you beautiful ppl, I am blessing y’all with a part 2. I never planned to make a follow-up, so ya girl pulled this whole plot out her ass LMAO. I hope you all enjoy :) Pls give me feedback <3

The sun shined bright as Y/n’s shorter legs casually tried to keep up with Spencer as they walked towards the ice cream parlor. During the short walk, both would occasionally sneak glances at one another, admiring each other’s features glowing in the sunlight. Y/n stealing most of the glances, as Spencer was too nervous that he would get caught. She admired the way the curls on his hair bounced ever so slightly with each step he took. Y/n imagined his hair felt fluffier than a cloud and found herself yearning to run her fingers through it.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she realized they had stopped walking. Spencer giving her a small smile as he held the door open and they entered the ice cream parlor.

“Welcome to Rocky Roaders! What can I get you both?”

“I’ll have a single scoop of uh Cocoa Monster Crunch,” Spencer said with a nervous chuckle before looking at y/n for her order.

“Hmmm, I’ll have a single scoop of Swooperman. Interesting flavor names they got here,” y/n said with a giggle.

“Cup or cone?” the server asked.

“Cup,” both Spencer and y/n answered at the same time. Spencer felt his cheeks heat up seeing the server looking at them both with a smirk, before handing them their ice cream.

“That’ll be $9.32,” the server said as Spencer dug into his messenger bag for his wallet.

Before he could pull his wallet out, y/n had already paid the server. Seeing Spencer’s tiny frown, y/n patted his shoulder and smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it, you can repay the favor on our next date,” she promised as they headed outside to sit at one of the ice cream shop’s outdoor tables. Spencer smiled at y/n excited that there would be another date.

“So Spencer, what else do you like to do besides walking and reading in the park?”

“I like attending film festivals, conventions, and scientific lectures whenever I have time, though I usually don’t, given my profession.”

Spencer worried that he sounded boring. He realized that he didn’t really have much free time to have many hobbies. To his surprise, he saw y/n perk up when he mentioned film festivals. “I’ve never been to a film festival, but I’ve always wanted to go. Maybe you can take me to one sometime. I can imagine working at the hospital takes up most of your time though,” she replied, leaning closer.

“Oh I’m not that type of doctor, I just have 3 PhDs.”

Y/n found herself growing more curious about Spencer the more he spoke. She found herself lost in his hazel eyes as they twinkled while he explained that he has an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute. Spencer was definitely attractive to y/n, hell she’d definitely be dreaming about him, but knowing that he wasn’t just a pretty face really sealed the deal for her.

“So Dr. Genius, if you aren’t a medical doctor, what do you do?”

“I’m actually an FBI agent,” Spencer replied before scooping the last of his ice cream into his mouth. Y/n watched in awe as he sucked on his spoon to savor the last of his treat. What she would give to be able to kiss him right then and there. Spencer had watched her jaw drop after hearing his job and was intrigued by another one of her many facial expressions.

“An FBI agent, huh. Never been on a date with anyone that cool before. Wait actually, there was a time I was on a blind date with a guy claiming to be in the CIA. He even told me about a ‘mission’ he went on. Turns out he’s a high school gym teacher and the so called ‘mission’ was the plot to Rush Hour,” y/n recalled as she scooped up the last of her now melted ice cream. It was now Spencer’s turn to gaze at y/n’s lips. “This might be a weird question but can I see your badge? I’ve always wanted to see what an FBI badge looks like in real life,” y/n said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Spencer made a mental note to ask Penelope about that movie, the next time he sees her, as he reached into his pocket to pull out his badge. “Usually the only time people ask to see my badge is when I’m in the field,” Spencer joked as he handed her his badge, mentally cursing himself for not updating his ID picture.

Spencer Reid, y/n read on the badge. She said his name a couple times in her head like she was burning his name into her brain. His name just flowed so well. “Aw you look so young and cute in your picture, but also kind of like you’re getting your mugshot taken,” y/n joked as she inspected his badge. Spencer blushed at hearing himself be called cute. Trying to cover his blush, he looked down at his empty ice cream cup and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah that picture was taken 4 years, 3 months, and 12 days ago. I would like to think my appearance has changed for the better since then.”

Y/n reached into her wallet, pulled out her license, and slid it across the table to Spencer. “If it makes you feel better, I can’t take a good ID picture to save my life either.”

Spencer mentally called bullshit as he grabbed y/n’s license, he didn’t believe that she could ever look horrible. Y/n Y/l/n. Once he looked as her license picture, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laugh. He could tell it was taken a couple years ago and whoever had taken her photo clearly didn’t center the camera well, adjust the lighting, or bother to tell y/n that she had a piece of hair sticking up. “I t-think you still look beautiful, it was the photographers fault for not being able to capture your beauty well,” Spencer said as he gazed into y/n’s eyes.

Y/n felt herself blush, she’d been complimented before but hearing it from Spencer made her stomach fill with butterflies. She felt like she was back in high school on her very first date. As both of them grew more comfortable with each other’s company, the conversation continued to flow. They had talked about everything from why the sky was blue to what they wanted to be when they were younger. Things were going so well that neither of them had realized it was already starting to get dark outside.

“Aw it’s getting late. As much as I’m enjoying your company, I should probably get back to my apartment,” y/n said standing up, a hint of sadness laced in her voice.

“Let me walk you back to your apartment.”

“No worries. I drove since I live a little ways away,” y/n said as they left the ice cream parlor.

Spencer couldn’t contain the slight frown from appearing on his face as he realized he wouldn’t be able to spend more time with her. Y/n, not wanting this date to end, laced her fingers with Spencer’s.

“You can however, walk me to my car.”

And so they did, continuing their random conversations hand-in-hand until they finally reached y/n’s car.

Spencer turned to face y/n, his nervousness building up. Y/n found herself stepping closer to Spencer, almost like he had a magnetic pull on her. With the street light’s glow illuminating them, Spencer was captured by her beauty once again, and found himself mentally burning an image of her in his mind.

“I-I um uh had a really nice time and I would like to see you um again sometime,...if you would like.”

Y/n moved closer to Spencer, leaving barely any space between them. Gazing into his eyes, she replied, “Nothing would make me happier than to see you again.”

Time seemed to stop as the two of them stared into each other’s eyes. Neither wanting to end their blissful date together. Spencer’s eyes flickered down to y/n’s lips, he knew it was now or never. Looking into her eyes, he saw a twinkle of affection in them and that was all the assurance he needed. With this new sudden surge in confidence, Spencer gently placed one of his hands on y/n’s cheek before leaning down and softly capturing her lips with his own. He was hesitating, not wanting to go too far with their first kiss. Sensing his hesitation, y/n wrapped her arms around Spencer’s neck and deepened the kiss. Spencer unconsciously wrapped his other arm around her waist, wanting her to be even closer.

When they finally broke apart for air, Spencer’s arms didn’t leave her. As he gazed at her, he couldn’t wait for their next encounter.

“See, I told you I'd kiss you after the first date.”

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #fluff #sequel #im sorry if this is bad #i wrote this at 3 am #lauren's writing #blushingreid

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valla-chan · 4 years ago

Text

65 Questions You Aren't Used To answered by ME

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

Sometimes, but it always goes away fairly quickly.

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

3, im not actively afraid of the dark itself but it can exacerbate paranoias

3. The person you would never want to meet?

The guy on reddit with like 100 different parasites he spreads to people around him

4. What is your favorite word?

Catgirl or Ghost maybe idk

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

Monterey Cypress

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

Oh my god my hair is so fucked, i look dead in the face too

7. What shirt are you wearing?

gray longesleev :)

8. What do you label yourself as?

gray-ace trans girl who is probably actually nonbinary but ignores that for the sake of simplicity

9. Bright room or dark room?

dark

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

in a voice call watching my friend stream hl2: lost coast

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

19-20

12. Who told you they loved you last?

gf :)

13. Your worst enemy?

congress republicans

14. What is your current desktop picture?

I have 3, and currently all of them are on images of hatsune miku

15. Do you like someone?

mhm

16. The last song you listened to?

No Children - The Mountain Goats

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

Mitch McConnell

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

Donald Trump

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

A clone of myself, who i would make work on my portal mod lul

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

My hair perhaps

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

I dont know if this would make me male, female, or a trans man!

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

Getting people to like me when i want them to, i guess? It sounds manipulative but if you dont use it to manipulate people, and you dont always do it (because sometimes you dont want the person to like you), then is it?

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

I am afraid that my perception of other things is inaccurate and eventually i will realize that people around me regard me as someone who is very much detached from objective reality.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

Crab+lobster mix, avocado, cheese, caramelized onions, bacon, sourdough bread, basil+a bit of garlic, and probably other stuff i cant think of.... oh and sunchips stuffed inside that i could pull out and eat.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

Save it!!

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

California!

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

1) If you die we eat you

29. What is your favorite expletive?

simply saying the word KILL!

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

My computer :( it would cause the most extreme impact to have it be destroyed. i would feel terrible about everything else though

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

I’d rather not say.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

sounds awful :(

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

My kitty :(

34. What was your last dream about?

I was playing a hidden level in Frogger: the Great Quest but then @ sleepysoul DM’d me to ask what my newest video was about cause she was weirded out by it, and i went to my youtube channel to find this bizarre video about crab-catching, which slowly descended into this video showing bizarre and cosmic horrors. For some reason i thought i uploaded it and tried to defend the video, but i could not explain it

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

I am a good 3d modeler, texturer, game mapper, and other things that have to do with digital 3d artstuff

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

yes

38. What is the color of your socks?

All of mine are tan or dark blue. super lame and boring

39. What type of music do you like?

Most currently, it fluctuates between “weirdcore” type aesthetic playlists of music, and anything Vocaloid.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

Sunrises, because im usually not awake for them so they are extra special

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

strawberry maybe

43. Do you have any scars?

One on the side of my butt where i tore it open on the bathtub faucet, one on my elbow from a bike accident, and

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

I dropped out :(

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

my cheekbones and eyebrow ridge stick out so weirdly, id make it not look like that

46. Are you reliable?

on small things? yes. on big things? nope, not in the least.

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

Have you finally gotten out of this rut and found happiness and success?

48. Do you hold grudges?

i kinda do but try not to

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

Catgirl

51. Are you a good liar?

only when im not trying to.

52. How long could you go without talking?

consecutively, maybe a fourth of a day

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

short.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

I’ve helped, but never done it myself!

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

Oh, believe me, no. But i do it anyway because its objectively hilarious

56. What do you like on your toast?

Not beans.

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

Miku :) (it turned out so badly i scrapped it)

58. What would be you dream car?

Golden Leopard Print Golf Cart

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

I lie down as to not pass out (and cause warmn wotter....)

60. Do you believe in aliens?

[redacted]

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

never

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

E? (it has a nice synesthetic color)

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Dinos

64. What do you think about babies?

gremlins. strange beings. they are very strange and creepy-ish but can be cute but RARELY. keep away.

#thast me #i was boared sooo

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rvnjun · 5 years ago

Text

should've known | lee jeno

genre: super power au! angst warnings: graphic death scene, blood, and obvi death a/n: im proud of this one but it made me want to go back and rewrite parts of haechan and jaemins fic :\

The Dream Team M.List

jeno wasn't born with his powers which caused he a lot of damage

he had to learn to adapt to life with them, had to suffer the unexpected consequences of suddenly having powers

12 years old, his parents were cooking dinner while he played video games

it was a new game so he was still in the midst of creating his character and choosing his weapon

luckily he had his homework done so he had extra time to decide and play

unluckily he was planning them at the wrong time

a lab was doing experiments on a person with creation powers nearby

the lab surged with power, sending waves of electricity straight to jenos game

his body jolted and erupted with electric shock, the weapons on the game manifesting themselves into his head

screaming in pain weapons began to spread around the room, all the weapons on his game taking form in real life

his parents were so scared, they rushed him to the hospital, weapons piling in the car

he was treated for electrical burns and introduced to a power therapist who he would end up spending most of his days with

they didnt want jeno, they didnt want a freak of a son

the power therapist took care of him and made him feel semi normal

he had to transfer schools because he got kicked out of his old one

as unfair as it seemed, they had a right to kick him out

unable to fully control his powers still he was constantly making weapons appear at random times

which put the kids and teachers around him in danger

he spent a few months which his power specialist working on school work

before he finally had his powers under control to the point he could choose when to summon a weapon

and that moment was when his power specialist changed his life once more

he sat him down and looked jeno in the eyes “Jeno you have a gift, not many people have the ability to do what you can do. now what you choose to do with it is up to you. in the meantime i know some kids I think you'd get along with well.”

haechan and jaemin, two other kids with powers

they were funny and talkative, he got along with them easily

and most importantly, they never judged him for his powers

they thought they were amazing

jeno had always seen his powers as a curse, his own parents never looked at him the same

but the specialist, haechan, and jamein all had the same look in their eyes

awe and curiosity

the three of them were close friends when they met renjun, a feisty chinese transfer student with drawing manifestation powers

together the 4 of them started a team

despite how much his powers scared him, hearing the way haechan and renjun talked made him want to

besides, he knew that if something went wrong and they ended up urt, theyd always have jaemin there with his bright smile

joining their future super team were chenle and jisung, both introduced to them by the power specialist

together they formed The Dream Team

a super powered team of seemingly ordinary teenagers who did their best to stop crime and unlike most villains, use their powers for good

all they wanted was to help others and give the gifted a good name again

jeno felt like the past years of his life were a rollercoaster, full of so many ups and downs

he was finally happy thanks to The Dream Team

for the first time in years he felt normal thanks to his friends

after years of pain jeno deserved it

that's when he met you and his life got even better

y/n l/n, another gifted

jeno met you after a fight, The Dream Team was hugging each other on their job well done when you approached

you'd been watching them the whole time without them knowing

curious by what they were doing and their powers you used your own to spy

if someone asked jeno what his first impression of you was it wouldn't be hard, he’d tell them that your powers suited you

you were awkwardly, fumbling over your words as you tried to speak to them

it was hard for you to explain what you were trying to

after nearly 10 minutes of you trying to talk and haechan complaining you finally spit it out

“i was watching you guys and i want to help you. now my powers might seem very useless to you guys but if you really think about it, i could be very helpful. i could make a great distraction!”

jeno wanted you to join right away but he knew the others wouldn't agree

haechan looked at everyone and spoke up “ well a) we don't even know what your powers are and b) this team kinda consists of friends and you dear person are a stranger who is nameless im assuming as you didn't even tell us your name,,if you have one ”

you immediately looked away at his words before stomping your foot on the ground and pouting

“MY NAME IS Y/N L/N AND I CAN TURN INVISIBLE!” you yelled at the top of your lung startling everyone

obviously you went invisible and jeno freaked out

“no wait y/n don't go! we won't let you join right away but you can hang out with us to see how things go!” he hollard earning him looks from his friends

they could tell why jeno was so eager for you to join, the fool had fallen in love by simply staring at you

the rest was history

you joined The Dream Team as their manager/assistant type of person, soon after you and jeno started dating, and of course you became friends with them all

jeno loved you, you were always there for him and putting a smile on his face

you both got shy from affection so you never did any in front of the boys but that didn't stop them from teasing you nonetheless

almost everyday you and jeno went to a cafe for drinks

“would you rather have your current powers or haechans power?”

youd ask making jeno laugh “i think id rather have mine because if I had haechans powers,,i might not have met my friends or most importantly,,you”

jeno and you were in love, both having rough pasts where neither of you were born with your powers and a freak accident caused them, and both of your parents abandoned you and you moved in with a close friend

which only made you guys closer

one of the things jeno loved about you the most was how caring you were during a fight, especially the particularly bad ones

like the time jenos nose was broken after getting smashed in the face with a cat figurine

you pouted and told jeno you wished you were jaemin and could heal him with your smile

which caused jaemin to jokingly yell at you saying that healing smile was his thing and you needed to get your own brand

today was one of those bad fights

the boys went in to fight what at first was only one villain but that one villain had a team they didn't know about

the boys were almost all separated

renjun was drawing as fast as he could, his creations starting to look more and more like a 5 yr old drew them

the weather was close to a hurricane thanks to haechan

jaemin was freaking out and smiling like a psychopath , without knowing who he was if you saw him you'd think he escaped from an insane asylum

chenle and jisung were together, about to pass out from using so much power

it was going bad but it got even worse when jeno got separated from the rest

trapped in a room with one of the bad guys he felt his panic arrise

‘i dont have time for this,’ he thought, images of his friends struggling flashing in his head

the guy lunged forward and hit jeno with a good blow, blood splattering on the wall

jeno felt his panic be replaced with anger

he was practically shaking from his irritated he was

“i know about you and your team, i know who you really are. you're a bunch of highschool kids, did you really think you could beat us?” the asshole spoke

jeno stared up at him as he added one “i know you're dating that freaky bitch that goes invisible to distract us.”

the smirk on the guys face made jeno feel disgusted

hearing the words he spoke not only about his friends but you sent him over the edge

you were the guys that saved jeno

“where is that bitch anyway? arent they normally he-” he didn't get to finish his sentence

swords appeared in the air, piercing through the air at rapid speed

the man was stabbed multiple times

he gurgled up his own blood, coughing in pain as he fell onto the floor

“fucking bitch,” he said while clutching his chest in pain

jeno was about to leave when he heard a horrible sound

“je,,,jeno,” a disturbed sweet honey-like voice coughed out

his stomach dropped and his heart felt heavy

“y,,,y/n?” he turned around, tears already pouring down his face

your ribs had been broken like twigs, gashes oozed with that desparible red liquid, your mouth was hanging slightly open as more of the liquid steadily poured out

your face began to pale, your eyes already looked lifeless

falling against the wall you slid down, a trail of blood being left behind from where your back was placed

“I just wanted to help,” your voice was barely above a whisper, you sounded so broken

“y/n!!” jeno screamed almost as loud as chenle

running to you his knee betrayed him and gave out inches form your body

“oh my god,,what have i done,” he involuntarily sobbed, body shaking from screams

warm tears flowed down his cheeks like a waterfall, leaving behind a wet trail of despair

“no no no,,oh my god,, JAEMIN!!!!” he screamed for his friend to come save you

if you saw his smile, if you saw Jaemin you would be fine like it never happened

only a few seconds had passed but jeno was screaming out begging for jaemin to hear him and come

getting closer to your body, jeno wrapped his arms around and held you

not caring about the copious amounts of blood covering his clothes

“you'll be okay y/n, jaemin is gonna save you,” he didn't sound sure, it was as if he was convincing himself instead of you

you never spoke or moved, all you did was stare at jeno

rising slowly, you painfully and involuntarily took in more breaths

your lungs, it felt as if they were being ripped apart from the inside, only filling with more blood

“i,,i just wanted to help,” you barely managed to get out before your breathing stopped entirely and head falling onto jenos shoulder

his mind, blanked of everything

every thought, every memory, everything was gone

everything except one thing, you

your image burned in his head

the wind was knocked out of him, his while body felt numb, he couldn't breathe

he knew he was breathing but he kept choking

the tears blurred his vision as they rapidly fell

he felt so hopeless, he,,he killed you

he should've known you were in the room with him, like you'd ever let him get separated from everyone

you always came to the fights as a backup or distraction

“I should've known,” he cried

jaemin,,he wanted to be mad at him, he wanted to scream and hit him, make him suffer the way you did but he couldn't

jaemin was busy, probably exhausted form smiling and using his powers

the door to the room creaked open

jeno assumed it was his friends, if not it was the villains and that meant everyone except him was dead

“oh my god jeno what happened,” renjun spoke, rushing to jenos side

jisung stared with his mouth hung open, wondering how he never knew this would happen, he gripping tightly on chenles arm

chenle let out a ear piercing yelp as he leaned closer to jisung

haechan stared at your lifeless body, rain starting to pour matching his tears

jaemins heart stopped when he saw the damage, knowing that he could've saved you

“y/n,,y/n,” jaemin cried while smiling at you praying that it would work

the tension in the room only grew as each other second past

each member of the team morning in their own way for their fallen

y/n l/n the “nameless’ stranger who approached them with wishes to be one of them, y/n l/n the loveable person who lit up jenos dark world more than is friends ever could, y/n l/n the mysterious invisible member of the dream team who just wanted to help

#nct #nct imagines #nct scenairos #nct angst #nct fluff #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #jeno #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #jeno fluff #jeno angst #the dream team au

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chimswae · 4 years ago

Text

BTS Caretaker CH8

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 2,008

- Author Note: Finally update on time! i appreciate your feedback and comment, just drop in my ASK BOX :)

Previous | Next

Chapter 8

“Why are you in rush?” the older guy blinks confusedly at the sight before him. Seul was struggling with her aprons as a frustrated sigh escaped her mouth “I have another work to catch on” untangling the dangling knots around her, Wongeun shook his head in amusement.

He took a few steps closer to Seul, grabbing her shoulders while leaning down to her level “Let me help you with that” Seul froze at the close proximity. A wisp of Wongeun scent reminded her of the supposed-to-be-forgotten-Min-Yoongi, and it was horrible to have him in her mind again.

“Don’t overwork yourself Seul-ah. You are still young” his fingers were fidgeting with the knots around her waist. He carefully untangled it as he smiles bashfully. God, Seul really hated this kind of gesture by a guy like Wongeun. It is troublesome for her heart.

Seul felt a heavy lump on her throat, as she forced out the words coming out from her mouth without sounding like she’s screeching. “Thank you oppa for your concern but I will be fine. I am doing this for my mother after all” she was grateful of the attention that he showed her. Sometimes her colleagues mistaken his kind gesture as a flirt when she tried to push that thoughts far away from her. Just because it was ethically wrong to have a feeling for her employer.

He removed the pink apron gracefully and took few steps back with a soft smile that could melt many hearts “I know you are a good daughter but don’t forget people around you. They care for you. I am sure your mother doesn’t want to see you like this either” Wongeun tucked strand of hair behind her ears.

“Alright alright, what is with this super serious talk. That doesn’t fit you” she chortled, jabbing his arm playfully.

“I am being serious. Okay, I am still worried that your workplace has no female but bunch of hormonal teenagers” his brow flinched together with a hint of concern.

Seul snorted “They are young adults. It is totally different from teenagers. Man, this is so unnecessary. I got to go, I don’t want to bump into any of those babytans” she slipped her phone inside her sling bag, taking all her stuffs in the locker.

“You even have a nickname for them” he pointed out shooting a sly smile.

“WHAT?!” Seul flustered causing her cheeks to reddened turning her into a ripe tomato. She just disliked the mention of their names being associated with her, god knows how she hated herself for letting this thing affect her brain.

“See you tomorrow” she scurried off putting a stop to Wongeun teasing. What a trickster.

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

Jimin rolled off from his bed and went straight to the bathroom. He was taking a short nap and like a flash all the members disappeared in thin air. Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon went to the company few hours ago like they usually did whilst Jimin chose to stay at home since he already spent 18 hours in the studio yesterday.

Taehyung was not at home either since afternoon, as soon as their Busan’s schedule got cancelled earlier this morning, he went to watch his friend’s musical show. He offered to take Jimin along, but he was dead tired to even get off from his comfortable bed. Taking a nap supposed to help rejuvenating his body and mind a little until he noticed no one was at home but him.

He took a quick shower before coming out shirtless feeling refresh and alive. Not long after, his ears caught the sound of the door being opened, it made him skipped a little in his stance “They are here already? THAT WAS FAST!” he grabbed random shirts from his closet.

“ugh they wont leave me alone right?” Jimin turned into a real klutz as he grabbed his phone and wallet before making his way outside his room. “You said eight minutes” said Jimin who had been busy forcing himself into the grey shirt.

Seul’s eyes widened at the sight in front of her. It made her mind fuzzy, blood rushing in her system and to her astonishment the figure in front of her got Seul losing her ability to talk. To be frank, her knees weakened, and she was screaming mentality.

Jimin noticed the heavy atmosphere making him uneasy for no reason and with that he quickly slipped the shirt over his head. “OH SHIT” his eyes shot opened. He gasped in sheer horror scanning Seul from head to toes.

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU” he breathed deeply, taking a step back. Seul could see him blushing deeply mainly due to the way him welcoming her with his toned body. Why must she have a weird encounter with this babytan? Crazy much.

Seul averted her eyes from meeting his shy gaze and cleared her throat in process “Why no one inform me that you will be around at this time?” she mumbled in frustration. This should not be happening since her last encounter with Yoongi was not that good either.

“ARE YOU A…SASAENG PERHAPS?” Jimin clutches onto his phone tight, staring at her way with a bewildered look. His mind was plotting something nasty and cruel, yet he didn’t know if he could execute it. Before things turned bad, he must save himself first and contacted anyone like Kim Seokjin because after all he was on his way there.

“Were you the girl that Yoongi hyung mentioned before?”

“The one who pretended to be the caretaker ahjumma? When you are not?”

“OH MY GOD. YOU ARE REAL! HYUNG WAS NOT LYING AFTER ALL” his voice croaked at the end indicating his fear and nervousness. The words coming out from his mouth was distorted but sounded cute to Seul. Even though it was not the time to mentally squeal over his cuteness, Jimin is undeniably cute indeed.

“Don’t bore me with your false assumptions. That guy has been getting it all wrong” Seul rummaged through her bag finding her mother’s staff id as a proof so it could shut this tiny guy instantly. However, as a self-defence Jimin took few steps back afraid Seul pulled out guns or blades from her bags.

Rolling her eyes, Seul flashed the card “There you go.. it is my mother’s staff id. Can you trust me now?” she pressed.

He glanced at the staff id in Seul’s hand “Are you sure that is your mother?”

“Duh, yes? People said I take after her. Can’t you see the obvious?” Seul shot him a disapproval look. Maybe, Jimin is cute but he aint anymore when he inquired her like a legit policeman.

Jimin then took the chance to scrutinize Seul’s face start from her eyebrows along her crescent moon eyes that practically shoots dagger at his way making him flustered immediately. Coughing away to ease the awkwardness, Jimin eyes land on his pink lips that purses up showing off her annoyance.

“Are you seriously creeping on me right now?” her voice brought him out from his trance when the reality finally hits him hard. Shit, what am I doing. Jimin bit his lower lips surpassing the urge to cuss out loud.

Seul grew quiet for few seconds gathering the sense of humanity in her before beating the crap out of him “I am here to work, and I don’t have time to explain to someone who refuse to believe what I am saying at first place. I am sure that hyung of yours have already told you what I said to him weeks ago. So, can you just digest it and embrace the reality that I am here to work not to stare at you” distressed Jimin had no idea how to react to this. Should he just run off and find help or should he just let her do the works and wait until Jin and Jungkook came to the rescue?

“I am beginning to be vexed with you, gosh” she stared boringly at his way.

He pressed his lips together trying to steady his breathing “That doesn’t prove anything… mmm…i.. think you are dangerous. I will just…” Jimin strutted to his room and locked the door behind him. Seul grunted under her breath, it was an unexpected meeting again. If this kept going, she would end up embarrassing herself in front of the whole population of babytans.

She felt a small smile crept up at the corner of her lips ‘Except for him. He doesn’t look that baby after all’ she blushed madly upon the image of shirtless Jimin creeping in. Considering Jimin is around, Seul decided to settle things quick and leave as soon as possible. She didn’t know who else would come in few minutes, every second is precious. On top of all, she didn’t want to meet Min Yoongi again. Worst case of scenario.

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

Pacing back and forth anxiously was Park Jimin. He blamed himself for turning himself into a real fool. What was he thinking? Showing off his skin in front of stranger who could possibly hurt him or even sexually harassed him? Was there any case whereby man got raped by a woman? Negativity only to bring unnecessary panic.

Think rational.

Calm down.

Inhaling a deep breath, Jimin took his phone and his fingers clumsily typed a quick message to Jin asking his whereabouts. He clearly said it was only eight minutes, but this took forever.

Releasing a sigh of relief, Jimin finally felt less helpless at the moment. He did not even dare to go beyond the door. No one knew what she could possibly plan in that brain of hers. Another thing was that she looked pretty decent to be referred as a murderer or kidnapper however anything could happen in one night.

He sunk on his bed, squeezing his eyes together ‘Why is she here. Is she real’ he raked fingers in his damp hair angrily.

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

Drumming his fingers against the glass table, Yoongi concentrated on mixing the tunes that came into his mind earlier with the new verse that Hoseok suggested. He had been busy producing new songs for their upcoming comeback and this was just beginning. Out of all time that he had in this world, he loved those days when he could spend all day in his studio making music, getting new inspirations and let the idea flow beautifully.

Staring blankly at the cold ceiling, his mind drifted off to the kisses that he had with Seul few weeks ago. His brows clenched together, protesting the dull ache that was beginning to grow in his temple “Screw that woman” he scowled.

The beep coming from his phone diverted his attention from thinking of Seul again, thankfully. A message from Jimin was unusual unless it was really important.

He arose from his seat, shutting down all the equipment. His determination to catch Seul again today doubled “I will make sure to catch you this time” he grinded his teeth together. As he was about to exit his room, he bumped into clueless Hoseok right in front of his studio “Are you heading back already?” the younger guy blinked at his hyung unusual behaviour.

Min PD won’t be back home not until he was summoned by Jin. When this happened, it simply means Jin was annoyed of Yoongi overwork himself to the extent of neglecting his meals and rest.

“I will be back later.. I have something important to do” said Yoongi flatly avoiding Hoseok judgemental round eyes.

“And? Why you look irritated? Did something bothering you” Hoseok used his luck to pry answers from him.

“Later. Tell Namjoon, the song demo is on his desk” giving Hoseok a light pat on the back, he brushed pass him without looking back. This was it, he had no time to waste or else he would be losing her again. It was already hard to predict her shift every day, he was not planning to waste the chances.

Hoseok watched his small figure disappeared “Is hyung dating someone? Not that I remember”

#bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts idolau #yoongi x oc #min yoongi x reader #jeon jungkook x oc #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #yoongi romance #jin x oc #namjoon x oc #jimin x oc #kim seokjin x oc #hoseok x oc #taehyung x oc #bts romance #bts series #btscaretaker

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wftc141 · 5 years ago

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Equestria's Hired Help-Chapter 2: Fancy's Job

On the next day, a lot of customers are in the bar as it is opened and Blitz and Sunset are already on their shifts working. The two works as bartenders but Blitz is also the bouncer to keep order in the bar. Mostly gangs, mercenaries or any type of criminals come to the bar but must follow Blitz and Sunset's rules meaning no fights or killing, no drugs and no intercourse.

The two also take care of drunks as they do not let them walk out to their cars and drive off drunk which most bars get shut down for allowing drunks to drive unconstipated. The money from jobs that Blitz and Sunset do is for the bar as their second job and disguise from cops.

Mostly mercenary jobs can be illegal if they're tied with criminal activity including gang affiliations. The bar used to belong a colt who worked for many years and was friends with Sunset and Blitz as there is a picture frame of him between the two. He is an earth pony with blue eyes and used to wear a white shirt and a bowler hat. Unfortunately due to an illness, he passed away leaving the bar alone which Sunset and Blitz take over to honor their friend.

After Blitz grabbed his tip from his customer, Blitz noticed a colt with a large blue hood over his head a few feet away snorting a small ounce of cocaine on the table And also the fact his body odor was as intense as horrible body spray. Blitz left his station and approached the colt behind.

"Hey, no drugs allowed here." He said, tapping his shoulder.

The colt turned around and noticed Blitz waiting for him. He only replied with a snort.

"What are you, a fucking cop?"

"No, I'm the owner of this bar," Blitz answered. "House rules. You wanna do that shit, do it outside."

The colt stood up and went up on Blitz's face. He could see his white stained nostrils nearing his eyes. "And what the fuck you gonna do if I refuse?"

He heard a slam from aside and turned around. Sunset glared at the colt, holding a sawn off shotgun on the counter.

"Like my friend said. This is our bar and you follow our rules," Sunset clarified. "No drugs. Got that?"

The colt glared at both of them for a brief moment before letting out a grunt.

"Fine."

Eventually, the colt left the bar, not before giving them the bird on his way out. Both of them brushed it off. Shortly, Sunset's phone rang. She took out her phone and stared at the ID. It only said "Unknown Caller ID"

"Hey Blitz. Cover for me?" Sunset asked.

He nodded. Sunset headed off to the backroom and closed the door shut, answering the caller.

"Hello?" Sunset asked.

"Is this Miss Shimmer?" Someone with a really deep voice asked. It sounded like it was altered by some sort of device.

"Who's asking?"

"A client."

"What do you want?"

"We need you and your lion employee in Canterlot for a job. There's an earth pony who stole something that has classified documents of our company and threatens to expose us and we would like it back...and if possible you may capture the thief to us alive. More Information will be sent to your phone. Have this done and the 1,000 dollars will be delivered, in cash. Good day and good hunting."

After the call hang up, Sunset checked her messages and found several of them with images of an apartment in Canterlot and a photo of the target who was a colt pegasus with black fur and green eyes with baggy eyes and stained lips. After reading all of the information that was given, it was time for another job for her and Blitz to do for a unknown client.

In the city of Manehattan, Starlight is walking through the police department and made her way to her office desk in a depressive mood. There were a few glares by other officers because of her past but she got used to it from time. Starlight unpacked and had her desk setup since yesterday night. Sunburst made his way to her with two cups of steaming coffee and held out a cup to her which grabbed her attention.

"You okay?" Sunburst asked.

"Yeah...so so." Starlight answered as she took the coffee from Sunburst.

"How'd it go with the family?"

"Well, the daughter said there was a shootout and she managed to get away from them without looking back."

"And you had a hard time believing that."

Starlight nodded as she does find it hard to believe by the way of the description of the crime scene there was no way Diamond Tiara would escape on foot and fly over to Ponyville to her parents.

"She's obviously hiding something." She said.

"Maybe this is a vigilante thing." Sunburst guessed, taking a gulp of coffee.

"I know a vigilante and she doesn't murder people. That's the true definition of vigilantism. The family obviously hired somepony to get their daughter back."

"Jeez Starlight, you would be detective of the month if you keep that up."

"Would be an honor. Fact is, they may not hand it to me because of that criminal record they made since I was part of an evil militia."

"It's not really a record if you're not arrested or charged. You were the one who exposed them."

"True that."

"Still, if they did hire somepony to get their daughter back...would that still count as a crime?"

Starlight then gives Sunburst a look that shouted 'seriously'.

"Sun...three Griffons are dead."

"Three gangbangers are dead." Sunburst added, holding up three fingers. "Don't get me wrong, I would bring justice but you gotta face the fact that they had it coming when they were kidnapping little girls for their sickening trafficking business and they were gonna do the same to Diamond and Silver. Silver's already dead and that must've made the Rich Family lose faith in the police, just like every other pony in this damned town."

Starlight then starts to stare at something which is a small picture frame of her smiling with a familiar mare which is a alicorn with violet eyes and dressed as a royalty. The frame caught her attention as she's worried about her friend who has been missing for a few years along with her five friends.

"How long has it been since they've been missing?" Starlight muttered.

"What's that?"

Starlight came back to real life as she noticed Sunburst was looking at her in a confused look as he heard her muttered out loud.

"Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself."

The next day, Sunset and Blitz took an hour drive to Canterlot first thing in the morning in a not-so clean but functional white Audi sedan. They arrived via the gate border of Manehattan. First impressions: neat, expensive, snooty and awashed with pampered ponies.

"So who this guy we're after again?" Blitz asked, taking a sip from a soda can.

"Some freelance journalist named Jackpot Bronco," Sunset answered. "Apparently he stole a thumb drive from our client. Must be some sort of executive company."

"Coulda just sent one of their own to do it."

"They could've but ponies nowadays don't like to get their hands dirty and besides, the pay is good."

"Point taken. By the way, you mind if we stayed in Canterlot for a little while after this?"

Sunset glanced at Blitz before looking back on the road.

"Uh, sure? Why though?" Sunset asked.

"Well...You do fancy a good meal, right?" He said as he placed the empty can in the compartment. "Cause word has it that this place got the best ones. Like the five-star kinds. Something you don't see in Manehattan."

Sunset felt a bit concerned about eating with a lion in front of the ponies.

"Well, I mean sure but...aren't you a bit worried about how other ponies would feel-"

"Ugh, please. Like I said, I dealt with that shit since I first set foot on Equestria. Been called a dirty immigrant, monster and pretty much anything between a communist or a warmonger. Griffons got the same treatment as well."

"But you do know two lions came to Equestria and blew up two popular places full of innocent ponies ten years back, right? None of them would ever forgive what they've done."

"Everypony judges us over what a bunch of terrorists do. They don't take the word from the minors. Some of the lions were part of a joint operation against terrorist cells a few years back."

"But this isn't the past anymore. They don't shape anything for the future."

Eventually, Blitz sighed. "Well, if you say so, we can just go home and I'll make the dinner as usual."

"Yep. I'm way better off eating your nice food than listen to rich assholes call you a commie."

Sunset still feel a bit bad how Blitz has been usually treated. In Blitz's hometown, Panthera-Leo, his country was far worse than Equestria as there has been wars between governments and gangsters and corruptions within governments. Panthera-Leo also had terrorism as there were Lion who likes to go out on a sport hunt by killing anyone they see as prey.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the pinpointed building. The two got out of their car and headed inside. After a stack of stairs, they got to the top floor and found the door.

"Room's here right?"

She replied with a nod. The two stacked up next to the door with each of their Glock pistols drawn out. Sunset lifted up three fingers, counting down to one and clenched her fist. Blitz kicks down the door and then the two storms into the room where it is very messy with files on the floor along with empty beer cans. The two also confronted the colt who was in a middle of snorting cocaine until he stopped, startled when Sunset and Blitz stormed into his apartment room.

"Show me your hands." Sunset ordered.

"Who the fuck are you guys?"

"Doesn't matter, you stole something of an important person and he wants it back..." Blitz said.

As he continued on, the colt then starts to feel something wrong as he couldn't control his shaking nor his breathing. He also grabs his chest as something was about to explode. Blitz and Sunset look at each in confusion and then looks back at Bronco.

"Are you okay?" Blitz asked.

Bronco then gives out his last breath and collapsed backwards to the floor. Blitz and Sunset exchanged glances, confused. Blitz then went over to the body and checked for a pulse.

"Well shit," Blitz said as he let go of his neck. "He just OD'd on us."

"Kinda feel bad for the poor guy now." Sunset said.

Sunset then looks around and noticed a thumb drive on the table next to Bronco's desktop computer. She walks over to the computer and picks it up along with the flash drive attached to it.

"Well...I guess this is what our client wanted." Said Sunset.

"You sure that's the one?" Blitz asked.

"Same description from the photo they sent me."

"Then looks like our job here is done."

"What about him?" Sunset asked.

Blitz then starts to look around and then finds a wall telephone. He walks to it and starts dialing and waits for a response.

"333, what is your emergency?"

"Please! I need an ambulance!" Blitz cried in a feigned panic tone. "My friend just had a heart attack in his apartment, Room 237! Please send help!"

Blitz then hung up and then turns to Sunset, smugly.

"Problem solved."

Sunset then tilt her head to the side as she thinks that was a good plan and she and Blitz starts to walk off leaving the dead colt alone in the room with the door closed.

Later, Blitz and Sunset are now in an empty parking garage as they wait for their client to give them their flashdrive and receive their payment. Finally on time, two black SUVs and a Lincoln limousine drove up and parked in front of Blitz and Sunset. Coming out of the cars were colts in assorted suits and designer shades, making a first impression of hired bodyguards. All of a sudden, they aimed their guns at Blitz and Sunset which the two step away with their hands slightly up.

"Woah, what the fuck is this?" Blitz demanded.

"Now, now everyone. No need to draw your guns out."

The voice sounded like it came from the limousine. The door opened and a middle aged unicorn with light azure eyes, well combed hair with a mustache came out. He wore what a typical pony would wear in Canterlot - a grey suit with a purple bow tie, a white pinstripe shirt under a black vest and one eye glasses. Sunset is very surprised as she knows who she is.

"Mr Fancy Pants?"

"Who?" Blitz questioned as he turned to Sunset.

"He's a CEO executive slash celeb."

"That's right." The rich pony said. "And I believe I owe you two an apology. My team are simply misguided when it comes to which pony or lion is a hostile."

Fancy Pants then tilts his head as he was searching for someone or pony else as there was something missing.

"Mr Bronco?" Fancy Pants asked.

"He overdosed." Sunset answered.

He sighed, expecting a sight of his fearful look on his face. "That's a shame but no matter. Do you have the thumb drive?"

Sunset slowly reached into her pockets and took out the thumb drive. One of the guards went up to her and snatched it off Sunset. She watched as the guard handed the thumb drive to Fancy Pants.

"Thank you very much for retrieving this." Fancy Pants said, observing the drive with interest. "I've already transferred the money to your account as promised. I do hope we can work together again in the future and with your skills. There's alway room for a place in my business."

"Thank you Mr Fancy Pants but we're better off working alone."

He nodded. "Understandable. Also one more thing before we wrap it up...you wouldn't happen to have peeked what's inside the drive, correct?"

By the look on Fancy Pant's glare(although his eyes didn't actually flare up), Sunset was prepared to make a shield spell as she was having a bad vibe but was not going to be needed as she answered Fancy Pants truthfully.

"No. We've hardly even checked it out."

Fancy Pants continued to stare at Blitz and Sunset. Blitz has a bad feeling as he has his pistol tucked behind his pants and ready to draw if anything goes down. Few seconds later, everything eased up.

"Good," Fancy Pants said, smiling. "You both have a good night now."

Fancy Pants and his guards gets into their vehicles and drove off leaving Blitz and Sunset alone.

"Fancy Pants?" Blitz scoffed. "Seriously, what kind of a dumb name is that?"

"How should I know? I'm not the one who gave them weird names." Sunset replied.

"Whatever. You wanna get something to eat?"

"Sure and I think I know a place. Hopefully they don't mind Lions like they don't mind Griffons."

Blitz and Sunset gets into their car and ignited the engine. From a distance, somepony held a pair of binoculars, focused on the car driving out of the parking garage. He held his gaze on the car and looked away once it disappeared.

Back in Manehattan Police Department, Starlight is sitting in her office continuing to stare down at her picture frame of her friend who is missing along with five other friends while rapidly tapping her fingers on the surface. She still wish her friends are found and ok. Her day dreaming stopped when Sunburst started to walk to her direction with a folder in his hand.

"Hey, got some news from the CSI," Sunburst said as he came up to Starlight. "They managed to pick up DNA of the murderer of the last Cut-Throat Talon gangster. Get this...he's a lion."

Starlight looks at Sunburst with a surprised look.

"A lion?" Starlight asked as she takes a look of the information in the folder and was surprised that it a match for a lion. "Holy shit...what do we know about him?"

"Not much but this could be the same lion that was involved with a few incidents across Manehattan but none of them still have a clue on who he is."

"This is gonna scare the city."

"This is gonna scare all of Equestria."

Sunburst and Starlight starts to wonder who this lion is and why he's Equestria...hopefully it's not another terrorist attack that Equestria had by lions from Panthera-Leo.

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secondscratch17 · 5 years ago

Text

weird asks that say a lot

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? All of them. I drink tea in coffee mugs and teacups. I love drinking wine. I like that I can recycle soda cans

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? chocolate

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? bubblegum if the flavor lasts long

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? the stereotypical quiet, obedient, smart, goody-two-shoes kid

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? somehow I like the aesthetic from soda bottles

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? hONESTLY I can dO ALL OF THE ABOVE in the span of days. Went to work one day wearing beach-y clothes for spirit day. Returned to pick up a friend to go see a metal concert in VERY metal concert attire. I own short, sweet summery floral dresses and gothic dresses, too

7. earbuds or headphones? Earbuds, they allow me to be more mobile

8. movies or tv shows? movies

9. favorite smell in the summer? Fresh cut grass. The smell of the ocean. Churros at the fair

10. game you were best at in p.e.? Soccer, obvs. Somehow would always last until the end of the game in dodgeball tho because I was small and no one could hit me

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? Cereal

12. name of your favorite playlist? Don’t have one.

13. lanyard or key ring? Key ring

14. favorite non-chocolate candy? Smarties!

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment? I remember re-reading Holes over and over just to make my book reports easier since I knew the boo so well. The Kite Runner was phenomenal and unforgettable

16. most comfortable position to sit in? idk?? I really can’t sit still in one position for too long

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? Currently my hiking/outdoorsy shoes. Also my black Nikes that I play pickup in and wear to the gym

18. ideal weather? Sunny and 65. Maybe one or two clouds. The tiniest of faint breezes to cool me down.

19. sleeping position? Any I can get into and fall asleep in quickly

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? Laptop. I can edit easier.

21. obsession from childhood? Probably any cheesy show on Animal Planet. The Most Extreme, Meerkat Manor, Big Cat Diary, etc

22. role model? I have a lot of different ones. Role models for athletics, role models for career and ambition choices, artistic role models...can’t pick just one

23. strange habits? Spelling words with the tips of my fingers

24. favorite crystal? Aquamarine

25. first song you remember hearing? how in the FUCK am I supposed to remember that. I do remember my parents playing The Beatles for me when I was a toddler

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather? Soccer! (futbol)

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather? Sledding, making hot chocolate, or playing indoor soccer haha

28. five songs to describe you? Who I am Hates Who I’ve Been by Relient K, Proud by the Icarus Account, Land of the Dead by Voltaire, Always Leaving by Mayday Parade, Wavin’ Flag by K’naan

29. best way to bond with you? Listening to my favorite music with me or watching the US Women’s national soccer team with me

30. places that you find sacred? Belfast, Maine. Gold Camp Road. Newport Beach

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? Tight jeans with holes in them, fishnets, and a crop top

32. top five favorite vines? Vines still exist?

33. most used phrase in your phone? “tbh”

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? O O O O REILLYYYYYY’S autoparts

35. average time you fall asleep? around 9

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? I don’t remember

37. suitcase or duffel bag? suitcase

38. lemonade or tea? Is it warm outside? Lemonade. Is it cold outside? tea

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? PIE!

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? Zombie hunting or my professor cutting lab a half an hour short to go look at some Cedar waxwings

41. last person you texted? I think it was Robert

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? Pants pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Jean jacket

44. favorite scent for soap? Anything fruity

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy. It depends on how good the sci-fi movie is

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? as little as possible lmao

47. favorite type of cheese? Parmesan

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? A raspberry

49. what saying or quote do you live by? A great amount of good is always evened out by a great amount of bad

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? Honestly Daniel knew how to make me laugh better than anyone. There are a couple of memories with him that I don’t remember entirely but I know that I ended up cry-laughing so hard that my head hurt. There was a time during my orientation camping trip when a bunch of us were playing ultimate Frisbee, and Jesse went to catch the frisbee in the most perfectly lateral horizontal position and the expression of focus just frozen on his face had me laughing so hard that I couldn’t see

51. current stresses? Sam. Jobs that I can apply for starting in May of 2020. Sam. STUDENT LOANS. Bills. Car payments. Wondering how fucked up my car has gotten since I’ve lived here on this ranch. Sam.

52. favorite font? Anything that looks fancy and sarcastic

53. what is the current state of your hands? Need to be washed.

54. what did you learn from your first job? The world is cruel and bad things happen without warning

55. favorite fairy tale? Uh....the Pied Piper?

56. favorite tradition? when my family visits for Christmas, eating lots of traditional Chinese food with them

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? Heartbreak. Staggering rejection from the field I majored in. Probably a lot of body image struggles in there as well

58. four talents you’re proud of having? Writing, futbol, adaptability, flexibility. I think the last two are just traits but I don’t have a lot of talents I can invest in

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? Let’s make like a baby and head out

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? No idea

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? Though we are far apart, our spirits share the same earth and the same sky

62. seven characters you relate to? Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit, Data from The Goonies, Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter, Eliza Thornberry from The Wild Thornberries, Raven from Teen Titans, Isaac from Teen Wolf

63. five songs that would play in your club? ANYTHING by Within Temptation. I wouldn’t be a good club owner. The catchy and pump-up songs from Hamilton.

64. favorite website from your childhood? Wasn’t allowed much computer time. I was allowed to visit educational sites and occasionally the Disney site

65. any permanent scars? some self-harm scars. Probably the one on my right leg that I got from CO parks and wildlife. I stepped on a barbed wire fence that had been plastered to the ground, but the metal sprang up when I stepped on it and ripped through my skin

66. favorite flower(s)? Plumerias

67. good luck charms? I’m not sure if I have any.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? earthworm flavor from Bertie Bott’s every flavor beans

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? uh...Something about not being able to spray silly string on Halloween in Hollywood

70. left or right handed? Right handed

71. least favorite pattern? wtf

72. worst subject? anything math related, I really struggled in GIS.

73. favorite weird flavor combo? I...have no idea

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? 2. I’m a baby

75. when did you lose your first tooth? I was 6

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? chips and fries

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? a succulent

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? sushi from a grocery store, the quality can surprise you

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? Both are terrible

80. earth tones or jewel tones? Jewel tones

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? I hate bugs

82. pc or console? PC

83. writing or drawing? Writing, I’m terrible at drawing

84. podcasts or talk radio? Not into either

84. barbie or polly pocket? I had both

85. fairy tales or mythology? God!!!! Like hearing about both but mythology I guess

86. cookies or cupcakes? Cookies

87. your greatest fear? Being forgotten. I also have a terrible, horrible fear of drowning

88. your greatest wish? In the times I’ve struggled I often find myself wishing for peace. Not only for myself, but for others to easily feel peace with everyone else

89. who would you put before everyone else? Sierra

90. luckiest mistake? Mistake? There’s been lucky accidents but I don’t think any of my mistakes have been lucky

91. boxes or bags? It depends on what I’m packing and where I’m going

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Sunlight

93. nicknames? T, Tear, Tear-tear, T-Dog, Miss T..a few of my recent favorites from soccer: Ronaldinha and Thierry Chun

94. favorite season? Fall! Shit, especially in New England

95. favorite app on your phone? I don’t know

96. desktop background? A picture of a simple dock leading out to sea

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? My parents’ and brother’s

98. favorite historical era? Victorian era, for sure

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sserpente · 7 years ago

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A/N: Request from anon and anon. I love this type of AU too, my dear.

Words: 2088 Warnings: Loki wins the battle of New York, implied smut

You were one of the few people who had been allowed to keep their job. As a skilled lawyer, your work was it mainly to help innocents winning in court. Even now after things had changed so drastically, with Loki ruling Earth under his command, setting up new laws and an entirely new way of life—a life you had been living in fear for weeks now.

The God of Mischief himself didn’t scare you much. You barely ever saw him, except for the news. Most of the time, he hid in his “palace”—Stark Tower, which he had taken residence in until his own castle was finished. A castle made of gold, paid entirely by the citizens of New York. Taxes had never been more outrageous but surviving was bearable. You swallowed your rage when looking at your pay cheque and you imagined your pillow to be Loki when you brought your fist to it repeatedly.

What you were scared of were the Chitauri. Ghastly creatures, aliens from outer space speaking a foreign language. They were patrolling through the city at all times, making sure no one stepped out of line. If they did… death was merciful compared to the horrible consequences that threatened you when you disobeyed King Loki’s laws.

For you, it was even more difficult to hide. There was a reason for why you were so good in your job and there was one, simple explanation: You could read minds. Not all the time, needless to say. But if you concentrated enough, quiet voices in other people’s heads would whisper out loud their thoughts.

It was a useful skill, even if sometimes rather scary. Some people, so you knew, had terrifying thoughts that kept you awake at night, especially when they imagined pictures and lively experiences of theirs—for you could see those too. So when a murderer in court thought about how he had driven his knife into a body over and over again, the images would come back at night to haunt you.

Life could be easier for sure. Back when the Avengers had still lived, back when freedom was something all but natural to each and every single citizen in New York… back when you had still smiled every day.

But it was about to become even worse. You were woken early by the doorbell that morning, yawning tiredly and wondering who would possibly disturb you this early on a Sunday. When you opened the door, you spotted your boss, handing you a letter with a regretful expression on his face.

“It couldn’t wait,” he started without greeting you properly. “I’m so terribly sorry, (Y/N).”

Panicking slightly, you took the letter and ripped it open. Your boss didn’t want to watch. He nodded one last time, then turned on his heel and left. Nervously, you shut the door again with your leg, your eyes never leaving the paper in your hands.

It was an invitation, a request for a skilled lawyer to help in a case, underneath an address.

Stark Tower.

You sank to the ground when your breathing stopped altogether.

The Chitauri guarding the entrance shot you dangerous glances when you approached the building, your heart beating like a steam hammer and your hands sweaty. The letter had not informed you about what you were needed for—only that you were not to reject. Why Loki had chosen you out of all people, you did not know. Somehow, he had to be aware you were the best lawyer New York City had to offer.

There was a human waiting for you when you stepped inside, his eyes icy and blue. You had heard on the news that it was Loki’s sceptre that had caused his automatic behaviour. He took the letter from you when you handed it to him, then asked for your ID before allowing you to step in the elevator, which brought you closer to your terrifying ruler with every floor you passed.

Ding. The metal doors opened, presenting a vast living area with windows instead of walls. The view was amazing but the man who had taken residence in it… he was even more beautiful in reality. Raven hair, blue eyes, a sharp jawline and a mischievous smirk on his thin lips… oh and you loved his hands. Loki’s fingers were slim and long and you knew without touching them they would be soft. The rest of his body… it was godly, to say the least.

Was this a trick? The worst monsters were invisible to the naked eye.

Loki must have noticed your awe when you lay eyes on him. Chuckling, he lifted his hands to invite you inside. You were still standing in the elevator, frozen to the spot.

“Please… come in.”

There were Chitauri guarding the area too when you obeyed and slowly approached him, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. You had been wrong. You were even more afraid of your king than those disgusting aliens—from them, you at least knew what to expect. Loki was unpredictable.

“So… (Y/N),” he began mysteriously. Your heart skipped a beat when he spoke your name. “Word has it you are New York’s best lawyer. Is that true?”

You were too scared to speak. Instead, you settled for a timid nod. Relief flooded you when he allowed you to sit down.

What do you want from me?

Your eyes flew to his sceptre. He was holding it swiftly, ready to strike with it. Was this what he wanted? Was this going to be your fate? A mindless doll, obeying his every order without knowing what you were doing?

“No worries, my dear, if I had wanted to take your free will, I would not have sent you an invitation.” He mused, noticing your discomfort.

“Then what do you want?” You finally chirped.

“Oh, is there no need for formalities? I am your king, little one.”

And that arrogant bastard wanted you to address him so. He was stalling you. Cocky idiot.

Your heart skipped a beat when you finally dared to look him in the eye again, your mind focusing on his. Come on, Loki, tell me what you want. Eager for the whispering voice inside of his head, you narrowed your eyes and then… nothing. His mind was blank. It felt like hitting a wall.

“It is very rude to read people’s minds without permission, my dear.” You suddenly heard him say.

No. It was then you realised what he really wanted from you. You working as a lawyer was unimportant. Your supernatural skill on the other hand… how had he found out?

“I… I didn’t… I mean, I… how did you…?” How were you to justify this? Curiosity? Loki was your king. If anything, it was disrespectful to intrude his privacy.

“I have been practising magic for centuries, my dear. I notice when people try to invade my mind—and I have learned to prevent it.”

You should have figured that before trying to do so. Biting your lower lip, you locked eyes with him again. The mesmerising blue in them paralysed you once more. Was he mad at you now?

“I want you to work for me. Your skill is, quite frankly, remarkable for a mortal. It will be ridiculously easy finding those who seek to betray me.” His suggestion made sense. Of course he would want to find a way to keep his people at bay—he couldn’t possibly mind-control them all. But he was the villain in this story. How would you ever work for a criminal?

“And what if I don’t want to help you?”

“Do you not?” Loki smirked, tilting his head a little. “You did not seem too repelled by me when you first stepped foot into my humble home, little one.”

Blushing, you faced the ground. Great. So your ruler knew you were physically attracted to him too.

“So? I know what you have done. I have seen the footage.” You spat angrily.

“Then you know what I am capable of if you dare disobey me,” Loki replied calmly, unaffected by your outburst. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips, your gaze following the seductive movement. “You will not do that, now will you?”

Woosh.

Like a tidal wave, you were flooded with images when suddenly, Loki lifted the barrier he had protected his mind with and practically forced his thoughts onto you. You tried keeping them out but you still saw him, even heard him, his lust and desire pulsating through every single thought.

You saw yourself standing naked before him, kneeling on the ground and devouring his cock eagerly. You saw yourself tied to his bed, his mouth tasting every inch of your body, slowly and intimately. You saw the two of you fucking like wild animals in every thinkable position and then, you practically felt yourself cumming for him.

A moan escaped your lips when Loki finally retreated, an evil smirk playing on his lips as you fought for composure, your fingers clawing at the soft material of the couch. If the imagination of having sex with this man was so intense already, how would it really feel like?

Had this… been his attention? Loki had told you he could keep you out of his thoughts if that was what he wished. His smirk gave him away. Yes. He had done this purposefully.

“Let’s say I agree to work for you. What’s in there for me? How can I know you won’t just kill me at some point?”

More pictures. More sweat, more passion, more sex. Your breathing quickened. You were unable to shut him out at all. If he was trying to arouse you, it was working. But if he only wanted to sleep with you in the first place, then why had he asked you about your skill? Was your body some kind of bonus to him?

“I am not a whore,” you growled, clenching your fists wrathfully. “Stop this immediately.”

“You give me orders?” Loki raised his eyebrows in a warning manner and although you did feel the fear cursing through your body, you went on.

“Answer me!”

The God of Mischief chuckled. “I will not kill you… not if you behave and I will not lay a hand on you unless you beg me to. And beg me you will, little one.”

Now, you saw yourself swallowing his load. So much of it… you could almost taste the salty semen on your tongue when you let it run down your throat…

“But… I can’t just show up whenever you need me! I have an apartment, a job, a life!”

Loki frowned. “You’re right,” he said. “Your old apartment will not do. You will move in here with me so I can keep a close eye on you and make sure you do not betray me.”

Paranoid bastard. “No! No, I can’t, I don’t want to. Who do you think you are?”

Now, Loki rose to his feet. The barrier was back up and not a single thought reached yours when he glared down at you, daring you to continue.

“I will have your belongings brought here—until then, I suggest you learn how to properly treat your king. Kneel.”

“I don’t even think about it!”

“I said… kneel.” Growling like a wolf, the sound of his dark voice rippled through you and vibrated in your chest. Anxiously, you did as you were told. I will not kill you… not if you behave.

It was just like how he had imagined it to be—only in reality, both of you were wearing clothes… for now. Instantly, your eyes travelled down to his crotch… longingly.

“Is there anything you want, little one?”

Arsehole.

“No,” you mumbled through gritted teeth, tearing your gaze away from him. There was a bulge forming in his tight leather pants, you could see it—and you practically ached to touch it. Loki was right. He could read you without reading your mind like you could. He was better than that.

Chuckling darkly once more, he tilted his head.

His words shot waves of heat directly between your legs. There was no way you were going to be able to keep up the act much longer. You hated him for what he had done but then again… he seemed so tender, so playful and oh, so handsome…

“Well, if there is… do not hesitate to ask, my dear. I promise, I take good care of my servants.”

A/N: If you liked this story, would you care to support me a little by buying me a cuppa? I would appreciate it so much! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#loki #loki imagine #loki x you #loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson smut #thor #thor imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #king loki #marvel #marvel imagine #tom hiddleston

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jiveammunition · 8 years ago

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Title: I’ve Got You in My Slice - Chapter 5 - The Reaper Comes for Your Rolls!! Pairing: Reaper76 Rating: Teen Tags: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Police, Bad Puns, Fluff, Slow Build, Slow Burn Chapter: 5/? Summary:

“Reaper?” he asked.

After 6 months of waiting, here’s an update for you all. Thank you guys for your patience! <3

Surprisingly, despite the impending barrage of holidays, not much had changed in Gabriel's day-to-day life. As usual, he made sure to go back visit his family the day after Halloween to celebrate Dia de los Muertos — bringing abuelo’s favorite brand of mezcal to drink and leave at the family altar, which he also helped with, and staying the night — as well as on Thanksgiving, when the only particular thing of interest that happened was the turkey exploding in the fryer because his brother-in-law — the husband of his oldest sister, Isabela — hadn't thawed it as completely as he originally thought. Thankfully no one had been injured, nothing had burned down, and his second-oldest sister, Carmen, had the forethought of making another turkey ‘just in case’. But nevertheless, the story was interesting and amusing enough to get a few laughs out of Jack when he told it, which made the Thanksgiving migraine worth it in the end, at least.

“What did you do for Thanksgiving? You spend it with your family too?” Gabriel asked when Jack returned to his table with a refill of coffee in his travel mug.

“Oh, no, it's too expensive and too much of a hassle for me to fly back to Indiana for Thanksgiving. Especially when I'm going to be flying back for Christmas anyway,” Jack replied, shaking his head. “I spent most of Thanksgiving at home with Reaper, before I came here to prep for the Black Friday rush.”

It made sense that Jack had the sense to prep and open the bakery to take advantage of Black Friday and all the people that were out getting their shopping on. If Gabriel remembered properly, Jack even had a sign outside the entire week before, announcing the bakery’s special hours on Thanksgiving and the day after. A part of him wondered how well it went, given the nightmare stories he'd heard from some of his fellow officers about needing to assist certain stores with crowd control — Gabriel himself was on patrol that night — and Jack had to change the store's hours to accommodate his morning rushes and allow for midday baking and restocking. How on earth did Jack manage to handle the floods of people no doubt prowling for early-morning munchies and coffee?

But as Jack hadn't looked all that much worse for the wear, and the store opened without incident the next day, Gabriel decided not to ask. He also wondered when Jack would finally get some help with the store, but also kept his mouth shut, knowing it was a rather touchy subject. As open-minded and keen experimenting with things — baking recipes and the like — Jack was surprisingly stubborn.

Instead, he raised an eyebrow and looked at Jack curiously. “Reaper?” he asked.

“Yeah! Reaper!” Jack got up to fetch his phone from behind the counter, and fiddled with it briefly before sitting back down and showing it to Gabriel. There, on the small screen, was a picture — a bathroom selfie, no less — of Jack with a rather peculiar-looking cat, all black save for white markings on its face that made Gabriel think of a bird’s skull. It was kind of spooky looking, to say the least, and though it certainly fit with Gabriel's aesthetics, for some reason the hairs on his neck stood on end and a shiver of something both strange and familiar ran up his spine.

He didn’t dwell on it for too long, and shook it off as much as he could before handing Jack back his phone. “It certainly looks the part, at least. And I should've known you'd name your cat something punny too, given how much you love your jokes. Don't tell me, it's spelled R-E-A-P-U-R-R?”

Jack merely laughed and shook his head. “As amazing as that spelling would be, no, it's not. I wasn't the one that named him.”

“Oh, you adopted him, then?”

“Something like that. You know how there are a lot of strays that like to hang out in the alley behind the store? Reaper showed up in the bunch one night — the day after Halloween, if I remember right — and just kinda… attached himself to me?” Jack shrugged. “I checked his collar to see if he had an owner, but he only had a nametag on him. I checked for a chip too, but he didn't have one of those, either.”

“Still... You sure it's such a good idea to just take in some random stray like that?” Gabriel asked, recalling some horror stories several years back about someone taking in a stray only to learn the hard way after it died suddenly that it also had rabies.

“Yeah! I took him to the vet to get a quick look at him and got him all up-to-date on shots,” Jack nodded, “Plus, Reaper is a really smart — if a little clingy — cat, he follows me to and from the store every day. Even knows how to use the toilet!”

Just as Gabriel was about to comment about how bizarre that last tidbit was, both his and Jack’s attention were drawn to the front door.

As if on cue, a loud but muffled meow was heard from outside, followed by a light scratching at one of the glass panels. Sure enough, there sat the spitting image of the cat from Jack’s picture, staring into the store as if demanding entrance. Its gaze settled onto Gabriel, and after several moments of staring without blinking — Gabriel could swear the cat was glaring at him or sizing him up — it meowed again and slapped a paw onto the glass. It turned its head towards Jack, and gave one last meow before dropping its paw and sat patiently waiting.

“Oh shit, Reaper!” Jack cursed slightly as he got up from his chair, “You’re not supposed to be out front like that!” He opened the door enough for himself to slip outside and not let the cat in, and picked it up when it appeared to meow at him again. It seemed to settle down in Jack’s arms, at least, and if the look on its face and swishing tail were any indication, it was likely purring like a motor as well.

As amusing as it was to watch from inside as Jack bounced slightly in place while petting the cat in his arms, and apparently scolding it, Gabriel couldn’t say no when Jack nodded at him from outside, beckoning him to go outside. Sighing, Gabriel stood up, taking his mug with him and hiding a few bills underneath the empty plate as payment for the food plus a small tip — something he resorted to doing after Jack kept refusing to accept more than half the normal price of his food due to his ‘guinea pig’ status — before going out to meet Jack’s new kinda-sorta-pet-slash-stalker.

“Reaper, say hi to my friend, Gabriel,” Jack said, turning slightly so the cat was facing him. Reaper gave Gabriel the same kind of soul-piercing stare as it did before, watching him silently until Jack gave it a nudging scratch behind the ear. It purred lowly until Jack’s coddling stopped. Almost reluctantly, it meowed in greeting at Gabriel. When Gabriel reached over to give it a pet, however, Reaper lept out of Jack’s arms and darted away, turning the corner to no doubt disappear into the alleyway.

“Guess he’s not a fan of me,” Gabriel shrugged.

“I wouldn't take it personally. He might just be a little catty around strangers,” Jack ribbed.

“You said he follows you around though, right?” Gabriel asked, pretending like Jack hadn't made any pun at all.

“Are you trying to say I'm strange?” Jack huffed, holding a hand to his chest as if Gabriel had hurt his feelings.

“I didn't say anything,” Gabriel snorted, smirking as he took a sip from his travel mug.

“You're hilarious,” Jack replied, crossing his arms. The look of amusement on his face did nothing to help sell how horribly Gabriel's barb had injured him.

“Anyway,” Gabriel began, looking at his watch, “My shift’s about to start. I'll see you tomorrow.”

He took a few steps forward before he felt a tugging on the back of his jacket.

“Sorry. Hold on a sec,” Jack said. He let go of Gabriel and began rummaging in his apron pocket before fishing out a worn, brown leather wallet and holding it out. “This belongs to Officer McCree. He left it here last night. I texted him to ask for his address so I could drop it off, but he told me to just hand it to you. He's on duty today too, right?”

“Yeah, he is,” Gabriel replied, taking the wallet, and opening it up. Sure enough, there was Jesse's ID, the grin on his portrait even goofier than how Gabriel remembered his last ID picture looked. He tucked the wallet in his breast pocket and began to walk off again before he stopped in his tracks. “Wait. Texted ? Why does McCree have your number?”

“He asked me for it?” Jack shrugged, “I told him I wasn't interested, and he's not my type, but he insisted. Said something about wanting it anyway in case I wanted another friend to hang out with that wasn't — and I quote — ‘a grump with a stick-up-his-ass.”

Gabriel tried to school his expression and keep it as neutral as possible, and surprised even himself when he somehow managed it. He let out a short, “Huh,” and took another sip of coffee to gather his thoughts. “I'll have a word with him later, then.”

Jack laughed, and waved his hand dismissively, “Don't tell him I told you he said that!”

“Oh, I'm not gonna talk to him about that,” Gabriel muttered under his breath. When Jack tilted his head in confusion, Gabriel simply shook his head. “Don't worry about it,” he said, giving Jack a quick wave before heading off to the station.

“Oh, okay…” Jack replied, still looking slightly confused as he waved back, “Have a nice day, then!”

Sure enough, when Gabriel got to the station, Jesse was at his desk, typing up something or another on his computer. Gabriel took the wallet from his pocket and tossed onto the desk in front of him, drawing Jesse's attention away from the screen when it thudded gently on the wooden surface between his forearms.

“Oh, hey! You got it! Thanks, boss!” Jesse laughed happily as he tucked the wallet back into his pocket. “Mornin’, by the way!”

“Morning,” Gabriel grunted. He folded his arms and frowned slightly. Unable to help himself, he went on to ask, “Mind telling me why you have Jack's number?”

The grin on Jesse's face grew even wider. “No reason! Just thought the guy could use another friend around these parts, what with him still being new-ish to the neighborhood and all!”

Gabriel tilted his head, expression still unimpressed and looking doubtful.

Jesse laughed, and held his hands up in surrender. “Honest ta god, boss. I was just bein’ friendly! You got nothin’ to worry ‘bout, anyhow. Said he wasn't interested when I first asked.”

Gabriel let out a quiet ‘harrumph’ before he went to his desk. Shrugging off his jacket, he draped it over the back of his chair before he sat down, still clearly displeased. He'd known Jack for several months now and he still didn't have his number. Granted, he stopped by the bakery at least three times a week — down from the four originally; didn't want to come off as a creep, after all — and there was no real need to have Jack's number when they met in person so often, but still...

He was briefly torn out of his foul mood when Lena walked over with a bridal magazine in hand, asking him what he thought about her fiancée’s, Emily’s, choice in wedding gown.

“Oxton, why the hell are you asking me?” Gabriel asked, after realizing he had spent the last several minutes looking over pictures of dresses.

“I figured you'd be able to help us narrow down what would look best with my dress, since you know fabrics and drapings and all,” Lena replied, looking at Gabriel with wide eyes as if the answer were obvious.

“Oxton, I make costumes as a hobby. I don't design dresses or work as a wedding planner! Didn't Emily hire someone to help you guys for this reason?” Gabriel frowned, gathering the various pictures strewn across his desk into a neat pile and handing it back to Lena.

“Yeah, but I also figured since you're the one that's gonna be actin’ as my dad durin’ the ceremony, it'd be nice to get your opinion, at least…” Lena answered in a quiet voice, looking slightly like a kicked puppy. Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He never could stand up against that look.

Still frowning, he flipped through the stack of pictures in his hands again, reorganizing the pile after a bit of quiet deliberation, and holding it back out once again. “The top three would be the ones that flatter Emily's figure and complement your dress the best. Now get back to work before Amari catches me helping you pick out your wedding cake and yells at me for ‘slacking off’,” Gabriel turned to his computer and waved Lena off.

“Thank you!” she chirped happily. “And you don't need to worry about that! Emily and I already narrowed down what kind of cake we want.” She smiled, taking the stack of pictures, and turned to start heading back to her desk when she suddenly jolting in place.

“Oh! That reminds me! I need to text Jack and let him know what time Emily and I will be there for the taste-testing!” she exclaimed in realization, mostly to herself. With a renewed cheer, she quickly zipped off back to her desk, fishing out her phone and tapping away at it with a smile plastered to her face.

Gabriel's bad mood quickly sunk back in. Lena had Jack's number too? That was-!

He took a deep breath and shook his head. It would make sense that the Lena would have Jack’s number if he was to be the one making their wedding cake. Jack wasn't giving out his number to just anyone and everyone.

...everyone but Gabriel, that was.

Things came to a head near the end of his shift when Liao, of all people, offered to text Jack and see if he would be able to make a cake in time for the station's holiday party in two weeks. Why the heck did Liao have Jack's number?! If he recalled correctly, Liao had only ever been to Jack's bakery once, and that was with Gabriel after they had coincidentally run into each other on their day off and during their morning jog. Unless he went there again sometime after, and asked Jack for his number… which dredged up even more questions in Gabriel's already-preoccupied mind.

He left the station that night with the same contemplative frown he had that morning, internally grumbling at how it seemed everyone but him had Jack's number and struggling to figure out the best way to ask without seeming too desperate or forward. He enjoyed Jack's company, and didn't want to ruin their casual friendship just yet. Plus, if Jack were to reject him like he did with Jesse, Gabriel wasn't sure if he'd be able to set foot into For Goodness’ Cake ever again.

Surprisingly, his opportunity to get Jack's number came in a way he never would have expected. When he got home to his apartment, he was met with the sight of an all-too-familiar black-and-white cat lurking outside his window.

“Reaper?! What the heck?!” he scrambled to open the window, quickly and carefully as to not startle the cat to the point where it would fall of the rather small ledge and injure itself. With a tiny huff through its nose, the cat jumped from the opened window into his apartment and skittered off to curl up on his couch.

“Hey, Reaper, this isn't your home. Why are you even here? Why aren't you with Jack? He's gonna be worried sick about you,” Gabriel scolded, and tried to pick Reaper up. He got a hiss and furry slap across the face for his trouble — thankfully Reaper had the courtesy not to let out its claws — and quickly reeled back in shock.

“Shit!” he yelped, “What the hell, Reaper?! Did you come here just to make my day even worse?”

Reaper ignored him, and curled up the same way as it did before, closing its eyes and sleeping. Or pretending to sleep. Gabriel couldn't tell, and to be frank, he couldn't be bothered. He growled under his breath and let the cat be, huffing as he left the living room to shower, make a quick dinner, and head to bed.

To his knowledge, Reaper stayed curled up and asleep on the couch until the very next morning, when it jolted right up at the sound of the apartment door unlocking. Without any sort of prompting, it darted out of the apartment as Gabriel held the door open, and even waited at the bottom of the stairs for him to catch up.

Jack was right, Reaper was a very smart cat. It was almost unsettling how smart it was. As if keenly aware of Gabriel's usual route, it led the way to the bakery, with Gabriel trailing behind it the entire time.

When they finally reached the bakery, sure enough, Jack was outside, as usual, setting up the sign of the day's special bakes. The expression on his face was more contemplative than usual, his brows furrowed and forming a rather obvious line on his forehead. Reaper meowed loudly as it approached Jack, and almost immediately, Jack seemed to cheer up at the sight of Reaper. His expression brightened up even more when his gaze landed on Gabriel, causing Gabriel's heart to skip a beat as it usually did whenever Jack looked at him like that.

Crouching down, Jack held out his arms for Reaper to leap into, catching the clever cat, and spoiling it with affectionate pets and scratches.

“How did this happen?” Jack asked, utterly bewildered. “Reaper didn't follow me home last night or to the bakery this morning, so I was worried sick something might have happened to him!” The way Jack's hands unconsciously continued to spoil the cat with affection didn't escape Gabriel's notice, and he couldn't help the small smile that crept its way onto his face at the look of contentment on Reaper’s face.

“I don't know why or how he even got there, but I found him hanging outside my window last night. Reaper didn't want to seem to want to budge from my couch at all, and I figured since it was so late and you'd already closed and I didn't have your number, I may as well let him stay the night and bring him back here in the morning,” Gabriel shrugged. Reaper opened its eyes to stare at him, as if fully aware of his white lie, and judging him, but Gabriel ignored it in favor of maintaining eye contact with Jack.

“Thank you for doing that. I really appreciate it,” Jack said appreciatively, relief written across his face as clear as day. “Like I said, I was really worried about this little guy. My apartment felt kinda empty without him around.”

“No problem,” Gabriel replied, feeling nervous about what he wanted to say next.

After a few moments, he swallowed the lump in his throat and gathered enough nerves to finally ask, “Um, in case this happens again, do you have any way for me to contact you? Like a phone number or something?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, terrified that Jack might jump to the conclusion he catnapped Reaper just to get the chance to ask for Jack’s number.

“Oh, yeah, sure!” Jack beamed. “Let's head inside so I can get yours too!” He crouched back down to let Reaper down, and with a quiet meow, the cat dropped from his arms and scampered away, slapping Gabriel's leg with its tail as it passed. ‘ You owe me for this,’ it almost seemed to say, and Gabriel inwardly thanked the cat for the setup.

“Sure,” Gabriel replied, trying to control the grin beginning to form on his face, and fighting the urge to pump his fist in triumph. He was going to get Jack's number, and he managed to ask without making things awkward or a fool out of himself! The urge did overtake him before he was able to make it through the front door, and with a quiet, “Yes!”, Gabriel did a small fist pump when Jack disappeared into the bathroom to wash his hands and likely dust off whatever cat hair Reaper shed on his clothes. Gabriel would later attempt to do the same to his couch when he returned home that night, only to be utterly surprised to find not a single cat hair anywhere in his apartment.

“Did you say something?” Jack asked as he exited the bathroom, tossing away the paper towel in his hands before the door swung closed behind him.

“No, nothing,” Gabriel replied, shaking his head.

Jack shot him a quick look of confused amusement before fetching his phone. He unlocked it and set it on the counter.

“I can never remember what my number is, so could you punch in yours and call yourself while I get this bread out of the oven? They're the prosciutto, cheese, and balsamic onion ones you tasted the last week and said you really liked. I figured I'd roll them out this week and see how popular they are.”

“Sure,” Gabriel answered, ignoring the pun completely. He focused his attention onto Jack’s phone, doing exactly what was asked of him as Jack disappeared behind the swinging steel door. He could almost feel his heart racing slightly when entering in his number, and when his own phone rang, it figuratively soared into the stratosphere.

Finally getting Jack's number put his spirit in such a good mood that day that he couldn't even find it in himself to get angry when he got to his desk and he discovered Jack snuck two extra rolls into his bag. Nor did he even bat an eye when Jesse approached him at his desk, and handed Gabriel $5. “Jack said you dropped this in his store yesterday. It's not like you to be so clumsy, boss,” Jesse scolded playfully before walking off.

Gabriel would just get Jack again next time.

#reaper76 #jack morrison #gabriel reyes #soldier 76 #reaper #jive writes stuff #jive fic: i've got you in my slice

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incendir · 7 years ago

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[NOTE]: I used a combination of bbintl and beesubs translations so credit to both of them

I don’t understand the eyes that focus on you I don’t understand the things you hold now, at that age Your passionate fans, the TV programs that allow you to be on them The musicians that form around you

One of the most common hate comments—that they claim they just don’t understand why he’s so successful, they don’t get what the hype about him is, they don’t get why he’s so famous at such a young age, and they say all this with the tone that he can’t possibly deserve any of it. He can’t possibly deserve or have done anything worthy of all the fans he has, the renown artists he’s collaborated with, all the shows he’s been on (I’m assuming the most representative of this is him being a producer on Show Me The Money—when he was first cast on the fourth season there was plenty of debate as to whether he deserved that position when all of his peers in his age group and in terms of years debuted were still competitors themselves).

There’s no real incentive, no reason for my hate But my guilty conscience gets buried by the crowd

As his fan of over six years now, I’ll be the first to say he’s done plenty to warrant criticism—you’d be hard-pressed to find any human, any celebrity, who hasn’t. He’s never committed a crime, he’s never done anything morally, hugely questionable or controversial—I don’t consider dating a scandal, so the only true scandal I believe he’s ever had stems from an immature, and thoughtless mistake that he’s atoned for and apologized for over and over, and still does years after it even happened. There is no reason that I can think of to hate him, and if you read between the lines of the comments of his anti-fans, you’ll realize that there’s no true reason for them to hate him either. Yet, he has hordes and hordes of haters because when spiteful comment after spiteful comment is read by otherwise neutral parties, more hate tends to easily form—if so many people hate him there must be a reason, right? Strength in numbers applies to the negative as well as the positive.

No matter what efforts you made, what suffering you went through Your success gave you the right to be insulted again

He was born with heart and respiratory problems. These health issues made it difficult for him during Block B’s early days when they had taxing choreography and he was always seen gasping for breath after rehearsals and performances. The first company he signed with treated him and his group terribly. There were controversies and they were extremely unpopular—they were horribly managed and in dire financial circumstances. They managed to escape, they managed to claw their way up through blood and sweat to the top despite their new company still being incompetent. He sacrifices sleep and personal time to create music for both himself and his group—he never once considered one without the other. He constantly receives hate and constantly has the general image of a thuggish troublemaker despite being well-spoken, well-read, intelligent, humble, and kind. But it doesn’t matter how much he endured because he’s successful now, isn’t he? None of that matters, none of it needs to be taken into account because now, he’s rich, he lives in an expensive apartment, wears expensive clothes, has an expensive car—so he’s perfectly qualified to be hated on. It doesn’t matter what he had to do to get to this point in his life, the fact of the matter is that he’s here, and that, apparently, gives everyone the right to take a stab at him all over again.

Why did she date such an unrefined delinquent?

Nine times out of ten, when there is a dating scandal, the vast majority of comments will hate on the woman in the relationship, whether she is a celebrity or non-celebrity even. Naturally, even though one of the articles mentioned how he had helped her through her own controversy, how he’d driven to her company and comforted her, this became the one time that I saw more comments hating on the man—that he wasn’t treating her right, that he didn’t deserve her, that he was too ugly for her, that her seen running into his apartment complex was a reflection of him rather than of the paparazzi following them, that he was a player who couldn’t possibly have feelings for her other than for a physical relationship because that just seems like the type of man he is.

I don’t understand how your music became hits The awards you receive every year, your luxurious surroundings

Paralleling the beginning of the first verse, and an elaboration on it as well—again one of the most common hate comments. Through this, you can see the shape and form of the song—the structure of how he’s stacking the different kinds of hate he receives. The beginning of the first two verses both begin with the most basic and transparent attempts—invalidating his success and worth by stating that they themselves don’t see anything special about him, that his music, his entire career, seems pretty unremarkable to them, nothing noteworthy and definitely undeserving of the accolades he has received thus far.

If you evoke some controversy right now, that would be impeccable timing My lips are twitching with abusive words and insults Our needs are simple, you just have to mess up on one sentence The interpretation is entirely up to me and I decide on your ideology as well

As each verse progresses, the hatred progresses as well—at first they are perhaps the type of comments he could shrug off easily because they are so obviously false or ones that are simply about his profession, and he is the type of person that accepts criticism for his music, not the type to ever think his music is flawless. Deeper into the song are the lyrics detailing the comments that are harder to stop reading—that are harder to shrug off and dismiss, that attack the type of person he is or the type of person they think he is and want him to become so that they can be proven right all along. All it would take is one mistake, anything that can be even mildly misconstrued—that would be more than enough to paint him as the brutish, stupid, arrogant, undeserving celebrity they knew he was all along. Clarifications, explanations, elaborations are all excuses—it will never matter what he meant, only what they hear, what they want to hear.

A hundred of your good acts, I’ll carve on sand One mistake, on solid rock

It doesn’t matter how long he atones for one sin—it doesn’t matter how long he goes until his next, inevitable mistake. It doesn’t matter that he’s only human. For all the hundreds of things he does right, for all the years he goes without controversy, they’ll carve them onto sand for the tide to wash away moments later as if they never happened. Any mistake he makes, however, regardless of how small, regardless if resolved or proven false in the end, regardless if apologized and forgiven, that’ll be engraved for all eternity—it’ll be brought back again and again any time his name is mentioned.

Guess whose loss it will be if you become my enemy? The camera lens will become a gun barrel

Above all, faceless IDs on the Internet full of hatred yet basking in their anonymity want to know and feel that they have an actual effect. They want to know that their words shake him and they want him to know that they are what determine his fate, his success or lack thereof—that they are so powerful they determine his self-esteem, his sense of self-worth, his pride or shame at the quality of his music. As long as he steps in front of the camera, it is up to them how he feels about himself and his work—therefore, he should do well to please them, remain on their good side. This will return in fuller force later on in the song.

No matter how shitty things are for you, you need to dance properly

A good proportion of the lyrics are applicable to celebrities in general, most especially idols, and this is one of them. I’m of the personal opinion that professionalism should be maintained—a job is a job, and rain or shine, you have to do your job if you expect to receive your livelihood from it. However, in the end, we’re all humans, and there are days you just can’t contain what is going wrong in your life, sometimes you’re sick, sometimes you just aren’t feeling it, and I’m not, and I don’t believe he is either, referring to those who simply skimp out as if being an idol is a voluntary activity at will rather than a profession—as he’s someone who is extremely professional and rarely, if ever, misses a schedule (he’s been known to endure filmings while vomiting between takes). I believe he’s referring to how the majority of idols and celebrities in general are hard-working, maintain appropriate expressions, perform to their fullest ability nearly all of the time, but they are crucified all the same any one single day or event they don’t seem at the peak of cheerfulness, at the height of their energy and enthusiasm.

I’m not an anti, it’s fan mail Once you rack up those positive comments That means you’re past your prime

This is the first time in the verses he refers to the chorus, and the central motif of the entire song: The opposite of love is not hate—it is indifference. This anti states, and this will be emphasized later on, that Zico should be grateful for this negativity. He should be grateful for the hate. In fact, he should even consider these hate comments fan mail—the reason being, that, receiving positive comments means he is no longer relevant.

Bear this in mind, the moment you make a stage name You have to kill yourself

A chilling, impactful line about the sacrifices that celebrities make physically, emotionally, mentally that non-celebrities will never be able to truly know, and never can truly experience nor understand. He had to sacrifice as much as he gained, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that he had to kill a part of Woo Jiho to become Zico. It should also be noted that he changes his flow for this verse—so that it almost sounds less like a third verse and more like a bridge. Previously, both his flow and tone were dark and smooth, but now it becomes harsher and choppier, aggressive and angry. The anti is becoming more and more cynical with its words—to the point where there’s hardly any other way to describe it than just, honestly, truly cruel.

The choice is yours to make If you want the public to eat you up (popularity/relevance), then be chewed out first Get on the cutting board

Leading in straight from the previous line, and also referring back to what was mentioned previously about indifference being the true opposite of love, the anti reiterates that the only way to gain fame is to first allow himself to be destroyed. His character, his skills, his appearance—he needs to accept that everything must be put willingly for slaughter and slander before he can gain fame because any attention is supposedly good attention and he has to accept that.

(1) A pro always rips the corners of his mouth widely (2) Professionals always need to smile

I thought this was one of those instances where both the figurative meaning and the literal translation are needed to get the full effect across. The meaning is another elaboration of the previous line regarding how celebrities are expected to “dance” even when they are going through difficult times personally, but the literal translation gives this statement the grotesque, macabre tone it needs to fully convey what he wishes to have the listener realize—it may seem nothing to an audience, to a non-celebrity, to an anonymous anti-fan on the Internet to tell a celebrity they need to perk up and keep smiling for a professional demeanor. After all, the commenter comments once—but there are thousands of commenters commenting once and the celebrity receives all of those thousands telling them to smile, again and again and again throughout their career. After a while, it wouldn’t be surprising if the simple act of smiling when told to feels as if you are ripping the corners of your mouth.

Merchandise don’t have privacy The customer is king around here

Possibly one of my favorite lines of the entire song. Other than the obvious of how this is referring to how entitled many non-celebrities feel they are to the private lives of celebrities, it most likely also references part of a rap he did during the NIKE Unlimited event shortly following the revealing of his relationship last year—

There’s another thing I could never forget That day my house, my car, and my daily life were all exposed

The reception to this was, expectedly, simply more hate—violent indignation that he was defending the invasion of his privacy and most comments ignored how his privacy was invaded at all and rather stated that it wouldn’t matter if his privacy was invaded if he was an upright person with nothing to hide, so clean and moral that even if snapshots were taken wildly out of context, he would still seem moral and upright. Bringing this back to ANTI, with the furious tone and choppy flow he uses for this verse, especially at this part, you can sense the undercurrent of sarcasm. The anti-fan finds it so incredibly absurd and infuriating that a product dares to desire privacy, that a product dares to desire its human rights not to be violated when everyone knows the customer is always right.

Hatred is also interest How long do you think you’ll receive that kind of treatment? So be thankful to me

What was implied in the second verse is now explicitly stated. Zico’s anti-fan is letting him know that fame doesn’t last forever, and that hatred is also considered popularity and attention and, regardless of how much he has been hurt by it—regardless of how many wounds and moments of darkness and doubt it might have caused him, first and foremost, Zico should be grateful to those who’ve hated on him all these years, dragged his, his friends’, his family’s names through the dirt. For, without them, and when they no longer treat him so miserably, he will not be celebrated anymore—he will be no one, once again.

I’ll make you lose your way I hope I can see you around for a long time I’ll end it here

As said before, again, above all the utmost wish and desire of an anti is to know that the subject of hatred has been affected—feels lost and horrible and feels hated, feels like truly all the faults listed about them are true. They want to know they’ve made Zico question whether he even wants to pursue his dream anymore. At the same time, they wouldn’t be an anti-fan if they had no one to hate. They rant on and on about how their hatred is a necessity of the celebrity livelihood, that Zico should be grateful as it is their attention that brings his music popularity and thusly lines his pockets—that he is nothing without them. Yet, they need him—they want him to continue making music for them to dismiss as mediocre and unoriginal, they want him to continue giving interviews so they can dissect his answers and dismiss him as problematic and toxic, they want him to continue being on shows and featured in magazines so they can claim his personality arrogant and his appearance ugly. The tone is sarcastic, cold, and mean. Naturally, the last thing they would ever want to do is let him know that without him they have no choice than to face what it reflects about themselves that they take the time to think up and spit out such degrading things to someone who has committed no crimes in his entire life and no true controversy in years. The very last line of this verse carries more weight than appears—stating that they will stop slandering him now as if they are doing him a favor. They are implying that they are taking pity on him now—he must be so destroyed, must be shaken and reeling, from all the faults he has that they’ve shed light on. So, for his sake, they’ll stop, and they challenge him to continue appearing before them if he can handle it.

I’ll wipe away your make-up And tell the world that it was all an act Why do I hate you? The price you’ll pay will be as large as the success you enjoy That’s all I wanna tell you about

I have the lyrics of the chorus as last because they summarize what the anti is saying throughout all of the different types of comments they leave. There is a reason for why these are the lyrics that G.Soul sings. Zico’s voice is what the anti-fans are actually posting, what they are actually themselves typing out and what they believe they mean. G.Soul is speaking for what is within the anti-fan themselves, what they are feeling and why they do what they do even if they might not acknowledge it themselves. Words differ from one hate comment to the next, but the sentiment behind them will always be the same—the one thing that no anti-fan will ever be seen typing in, the thing that Zico has realized about all of his anti-fans. He said as much in the Dazed Digital interview earlier this year, “Nowadays, there are people and comments trying to bring me down.When I see stuff like that, I find myself laughing about it—I don’t understand it, there’s no point to it. How can someone lack that much confidence about themselves that they try to get me down? I mean I don’t even think I’m that great!”

Anti-fans disguise themselves as concerned fans, as critics, as neutral third parties with an unbiased opinion that is only vitriolic and cruel because the celebrity clearly must deserve it. Despite all the different masks, all the various categories of hate-filled messages, that an anti might wear, Zico has realized that what they want is the same—for whatever reason, they want him to hate himself as much as they hate him. They want to see himself as the trouble-causing, simple-minded, partying, problematic, arrogant, selfish, unworthy, overrated celebrity that they paint him out to be and that they are so focused on getting the world to see him as.

I’m not you ANTI

There are several ways to look at the very last line of the song. Initially, I thought it was most probably just an English error on his part, and he meant it as “I’m not your anti”. In that case, the meaning is simple, and the final line simply reiterates the motif previously elaborated on and reiterated throughout the song about how hatred is still interest. The second way this line could be taken, if there is no error in it, is the anti-fan stating that they are not Zico—simply they do not want to be Zico, they are above him for all of the reasons they state throughout the song, all of his controversies and how problematic his image is according to them. In this interpretation, the repeated “anti” at the end would just be a sort of tie-in to state the song title. The final interpretation I offer, and I personally go back and forth between this and the first one, is that this final line is actually from Zico’s perspective—the only part of the entire song that is not supposedly spoken by the anti-fan. If spoken by Zico, this line then turns into “I’m not you, Anti”. It doesn’t matter how much they hate him, how many times and how intensely they degrade him and his loved ones, how much the rip apart his music and claim it insubstantial and unoriginal at best. He’ll never hate himself the way that they seem to hate themselves.

#zico:ultimate #op #personal

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spicynbachili1 · 6 years ago

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Premature Evaluation: World War 3

Untimely Analysis is the weekly column during which we discover the wilds of early entry. This week, Fraser’s been conscripted into World Warfare three, a web based FPS that after once more pits east versus west. If nothing else it’s handy for map makers.

Developer: The Farm 51 Writer: The Farm 51

Launch: Out now! On: Home windows From: Steam and Humble For: £24, $28, €25

My first hour combating within the gray European battlefields of World Warfare three was not probably the most nice introduction I’ve ever needed to a web based shooter. The primary impediment was the loading display screen, which was fairly adamant about not letting me play. It took nearly 20 minutes to connect with the sport on the second try. Lastly over the primary hurdle, I used to be instantly directed to an in-progress match that my workforce was shedding spectacularly. Sadly for them, I wasn’t going to show the tide.

The display screen was violently shaking, there was shouting coming from each path and I’m fairly positive I noticed a tank. I used to be shot within the abdomen immediately. The remainder of the match went about in addition to may very well be anticipated given my utter confusion. I wandered round, following individuals I hoped knew what they have been doing. Then I died. 28 occasions. I killed one particular person, unintentionally. My solely comfort was that I may at the least blame the persistent and infrequently deadly stuttering that I used to be unable to get rid off. We misplaced, by the way.

World Warfare three is aggressively opaque, which makes me surprise if that is as a lot a consequence of its hardcore aspirations as it’s its early entry standing. It sometimes throws out some ideas, however that’s the extent of its steering. A tutorial, and even an introduction that isn’t only a common match absent any context, wouldn’t go amiss, however I’m actually holding out for some type of coaching mode. At the moment, there’s no place to become familiar with any facet of the sport, from its bewilderingly enormous listing of weapons to its ginormous city maps, with out delving into its single mode (one other is on the best way quickly). It’s a horrible place to study.

The fundamentals are a lot the identical as they’re in Battlefield, notably Battlefield four. Two groups, break up into smaller squads, duke it out over a big map and a collection of targets. The construction is simple, however the nuances of the gunplay and the extraordinarily difficult maps are a lot tougher to become familiar with, and it simply isn’t a whole lot of enjoyable making an attempt to study the sport’s ins and outs when the teachings preserve being minimize brief by bullets. And there are a whole lot of ins and outs. Making an attempt to determine how armour works or what bullets you have to use while you’ve spawned proper beneath an artillery strike is, not surprisingly, fairly difficult.

I’m now not fairly as misplaced, however World Warfare three and I are nonetheless strangers. It doesn’t actually talk what it is rather nicely, both explicitly or via the painfully generic navy shooter setting. There are the broad similarities to Battlefield four, however there are some sim parts that evoke Arma three and close-quarters firefights that recall to mind the likes of Insurgency. It looks like its making an attempt to be a large, explosive shooter the place the battles are unfold out all throughout the map, but in addition this tight, tactical recreation of infiltrations and teamwork.

There are occasions the place it briefly coalesces, and it’s nice. I discovered myself making a very lengthy journey with one squad. We began by making daring sprints throughout a pockmarked wasteland, diving into waterlogged craters each time we heard gunfire, everybody transferring in unison. At one level we acquired trapped in an enormous crater by a sniper. We needed to bait them, risking one of many squad, which might have been significantly simpler if this team-based recreation had voice chat. We acquired out of that mess with just one particular person injured. An artillery strike additionally slowed us down, however fortunately we averted the worst of it. Ultimately, we left the terrifying openness of the outside for the claustrophobic stress of a small shopping center that we cleared inch by inch. Our goal, a store, turned a brief base.

Somebody dropped a primary assist bag, I dumped some ammo behind a counter. I’d solely simply realised I may do this. We had view of the mall and many cowl. The assault kicked off a second later. Smoke grenades got here via the entrance of the shop, shortly adopted by a hail of gunfire and cursing. Certainly one of them tried to rise up the steps behind us, however we had somebody hidden behind some packing containers, ready for them. A number of extra minutes of that and we pulled out of the shopping center – one other goal wanted reinforcements. We slunk via the corridors like seasoned infiltrators, not turning a single nook until we knew precisely what was ready for us, proper till we acquired to the exit. We hadn’t counted on the tank. The squad scattered or died.

That type of structured, cohesive expertise is uncommon. The dearth of voice chat signifies that no person communicates, past swearing at one another in textual content, whereas the absence of path and the massive dimension of the maps signifies that most individuals type of simply run round between targets, principally simply making an attempt to play Battlefield. The fleeting nature of lives definitely helps that playstyle – demise comes simply however is type of meaningless. Matches are wars of attrition, with each side flinging troops at targets, however as a substitute of manpower getting worn down, it’s my will to maintain taking part in.

Fights drag on and are undoubtedly much less attention-grabbing for his or her lack of Battlefield’s illusory dynamism. There aren’t any occasions or map evolutions past the targets altering fingers. These maps don’t inform a narrative, and the battles that play out in them aren’t very coherent. Even in a style not precisely famed for is charismatic video games, World Warfare three could be very gray, in tone in addition to aesthetic.

The place it excels are the weapons. Gosh, they’re corkers. First off, all of them can be found immediately. No levelling up, no buying – simply bounce in and begin making a loadout. That is simpler stated than finished, in fact, and the gun particulars don’t paint a transparent image, so count on to play various rounds earlier than you discover one thing that fits you. They’re all extraordinarily customisable, too. I’ve been working round with a G38 that I’ve upgraded with two totally different optics: a scope on the highest and iron sights at an angle, letting me shortly swap between close-quarters and ranged modes. You may slap lasers, torches, scopes and many aesthetic bells and whistles, too, so you’ve gotten a chunk of equipment that’s distinctly yours. You may even pull it aside and gawk at every particular person part.

They’ve acquired some kick. I nonetheless preserve having to remind myself concerning the recoil. There are methods to compensate, however it’s fairly dramatic, regardless. Every gun feels distinct, although, and much more totally different when you’ve slapped on extras and weighed it down. They really feel like difficult, delicate machines relatively than simply an extension of your character. With that in thoughts, I additionally like to hold round an RPG-7, guaranteeing at the least some kills and wee explosions even when I’m a horrible marksman.

With the RPG and the customized G38, I used to be a bit slowed down. There aren’t standard lessons in World Warfare three, however there are weight lessons. I used to be heavy, and it meant I wasn’t going to be fairly as spry. This was an issue in a recreation that prizes pace. I needed to make a sacrifice, however I couldn’t surrender my beloved RPG. The armour needed to go. I used to be capable of swap it out for one thing lighter and fewer sturdy, however truthfully, I haven’t observed. I get shot within the abdomen so much, regardless, which at all times appears to kill me. I die whether or not I’m encased in metal or not, whereas working away shortly has saved my life loads of occasions.

It’s undoubtedly gun porn, which I’m by no means actually positive about, however it’s additionally the one a part of the sport that made it price powering via the stuttering and numerous spawn deaths. World Warfare three does this one crucial factor extraordinarily nicely, for probably the most half, however every little thing else wants an excessive amount of work. It’s exhausting to even predict its potential as a result of it doesn’t have a transparent id but. The starvation for gray navy shooters can by no means be sated, so it’s already standard sufficient so that you simply received’t wrestle to discover a match should you can join, however I like to recommend holding off for now.

from SpicyNBAChili.com http://spicymoviechili.spicynbachili.com/premature-evaluation-world-war-3/

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