#well what the fuck that was at least 150 stories and ideas and notes I wrote

[shadowofroses]

story idea maybe series I'm thinking of right now...

Jujutsu Kaisen x Trigun

No pairings, Reader just has a fictional crush on Vash. Gojo and Reader is Platonic at least yet, I'm still plotting it out and wanted to share this part so far. No idea when I'll get around to put it online however. I've seen way too many fanarts with both Gojo and Vash together lately. and it's helping to fuel this, a very rough draft cut and paste. Reader has hair I'm trying to remember to make note of that.

But Something got you curious as you gazed off into Gojo’s direction who was sitting right beside you. “What is it? Popcorn in my teeth?” He instantly went to lick around his teeth to see if he could find the kernel.

However you shook your head. “No….I have a question….might be a dumb one. But, Have you ever, attempted to like jump universes with your Limitless before? Or Attempted to jump into a universe where Digimon or Pokemon were real?” or stated throwing out an example.

Gojo hummed. “I played with the idea before, but as you brought up…” He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers in response. “A total misuse of Cursed Technique! OOOOOOO~~”

You picked up a throw pillow and threw it at him, which didn’t hit him of course, he caught it with his hands and laughed. “har har, I was just curious, cause well, your Limitless is well Limitless in theory…”

He moved to hug your throw pillow to his chest as he leaned forward on it In thought. “I….think you are a bad influence on me.” He stated to flick your forehead causing you to huff a little.

“ME a bad influence on YOU?” you rolled your eyes. “Was curious.”

“Didn’t you know Curiosity killed the cat?”

You lightly chuckled. “Satisfaction brought it back.”

Gojo pressed his sunglasses up with a finger as he paused in thought. “I think so…However I doubt I’d be able to bring you with me…but only one way to find out, and they can’t get mad at me if I’m doing sciency things. Worse comes to worse I’ll say something curse -like happened and I dealt with it.” He moved to point at one of your Vash figurines. “instead of Digimon or Pokemon, how about your Beloved Vash…comes here?”

Your brow furrowed for a moment. “Wait a second...you gotta think of the conse…..”

you barely got out what possible consequences that might cause to the Trigun universe, or to the modern day world. When a blue flash happened. Your eyes crossed as a blond man in a long red jacket ended up landing upside down on your couch crying out “OW!” especially when his gun went flying and landed on his ass as he landed.

“Dammit Satoru, I was speaking hypothetical!” you went off to lecture him, “what is this going to mean for his universe that he is missing, what’s it going to do to ours?!”

Gojo how ever pouted and went over to pinch Vash’s cheeks together “But look how adorable he is!” causing Vash’s eyes to cross and lightly blush. “Besides! This is great! He’s never seen Earth or the Ocean? This is perfect we can show him around!~” Gojo then grinned, “Lets take him to the Zoo! All the Sea animals will blow his mind! Then we can send him back!”

You felt like pulling out your hair even if your heart skipped a beat seeing Vash in the flesh. "Satoru...this is a 150 year old man….”

“Independent Plant Man.” Gojo Corrected which made Vash’s eyes narrow in shock. Wondering how he knew.

“We are not treating him like a fucking child that we are babysitting, sugaring up and sending him back home hyper!”

Gojo’s eyes widened at that. “OH! True, we need to get him some sweets."

[logicheartsoul]

....so I may have just lost 3-ish years worth of WIPs and 5-ish years worth of personal stuff. Stuff I did not have a chance to backup.

I dunno if I am in shock or reacting to my hungry stomach or both.

Looks like I am not sleeping like I wanted to do. 

[thekitschdiet]

the kitsch diet part II

part one alr posted!! this chunk is about 3,000~ words long... let me know what u think :-) thank u all for all the luv already!!! looks like I really will hit 31 followers by easter!!!!!!!!

  Who is the Kitsch Girl? 

 I think this is more loosely defined, but The Chic Diet did a truly admirable way of reducing a girl to her YSL bag and her really skinny legs. Now, that implies an archetype, or a population in a specific location. I think kitschness is kind of the niche you fill when you’re not really much of anything else, sort of your own conglomerate of mainstream-specific. One major requirement, though, is being a little too into something somewhat uncool. And the whole illusion falls apart if you have any sort of outward insecurity. See, the Kitsch Girl is somewhat undefinable because she is so much of everything. She exists in multitudes, in a way that is also quite simple to understand; think of a list of axioms, or principles to live by. And now add a section to each one that says “but…” to make a collection of verified exceptions. Say, the kitsch girl will never wear jeans. But she thrifted this pair of vintage flares she just loves. She doesn’t reply to texts efficiently, but sometimes she will within a couple seconds. No mascara, no dinner forks, candles are to be collected not burned; but that was a gift, or something. It’s not personal, of course, those are just the contradictions she exists in. Don’t try to understand it, the enigma is essential to the facade. Or maybe she just lives like this, and her character is so homogenous with her inner world there’s no sense in trying to separate it. You have to have a little bit of an individuality complex about the whole ordeal, which is normally so eugh, but if you’re kitschy enough it works on you. Trust!The Kitsch girl is not someone unlikeable, but amiable and well heeled. I double checked that last one, assuming it meant liked by most, but apparently means affluent. I suppose that is an aspect of the kitsch girl too, having seemingly endless frivolous expenses with no real strain, but that’s not important right now. People that don’t like her think so out of jealousy, or something. Envious that her clothes are all kind of shake-it-up-esque and her highlights desperately need touching up, but she still seems so enthralled with the whole of life… How does she enjoy her own company so much when other people want to know her better? Doesn’t she feel weird about blowing people off to make a joke about reading Kafka in the bath? Why would she document her cluttered, unexciting life on Instagram so delicately, so vibrantly? Of course, no one would say this to her face because they are really baseless claims. She’s nice, generous, and valuable to have as a friend. Trade-offs exist, as they do with anyone. But I like thinking it’s easier to overlook a forgotten birthday when your kitschy best friend gave you a multi strand pearl necklace to celebrate the welcome breeze of June. Or some other made-up holiday. She is so unassuming if you’re not really looking. Girls want in on her inner circle. Or they just don’t care. Nothing wrong with being liked or thought of naught, for the most part. Boys are either enthralled or repulsed by her. Her doctor knows her as something of a hypochondriac, but only minorly. It’s just carpal tunnel, don’t worry… The sales staff at CVS turn a blind eye when she slips an eyeliner pencil into her tote bag. She shoplifts on occasion, just to see if she still knows how. But she is not a shoplifter. $9 here and $6.45 there doesn’t really add up to much. Everywhere she goes, she makes a tertiary friend or two. The term of friend is loosely used here, of course. But it is nice to tell a stranger you like her earrings. Or her phone case is so fun, is it Wildflower? The kitsch girl has an eye for this kind of detail. Simply put, she is sort of unspectacular. But in a way that makes you sort of wish you knew her better.

Phone cases

The phone case is, like, religious for the kitsch girl. Sorry, but there’s just no other accessory as flippant and expensive and single-purpose as a trendy little iPhone case with some semitacky stickers plastered over the design. I used to have an iPhone XS- extrasmall-  with like, 18 phone cases. It was kind of a sordid affair. I jest, but really… owning that many phone cases was kind of sick. We get it, you are frivolous and spontaneous and sooo stylish! Stop posting mirror selfies on your Instagram story, your crush isn’t going to see it. Kidding again. Having an extensive collection of phone cases is just so fun because while attainable, most people just simply do not partake in it. That makes you kitschy and unique. I really thought I had more to say about the IDEA of the phone case, but I guess in practice it is all very, very simple. You can slide your driver’s license in the back of a clear case. At what point does it stop being cool to have legal operational control of a vehicle? I don’t display mine because I don’t really like the photo. I look round. In the eyes but also just in general, swollen, unglamorous. Whatever. Not like I drive a Nissan or anything. I drive my *Mom’s* Nissan. Playing Bladee in the car seems sacrilegious. She would hate it.Back to phone cases. Sonix ones are cute but kind of overpriced retail- unless you have like, an iPhone 12 Pro Max or whatever the fuck is new this year, just go to Winner’s. They always have Xs and 11 cases. I had a cherry one for my previous phone, like the exact one Lana Del Rey had? Thank god I sold it before she got outed as a copfucker or whatever. Casetify is for an inadvertent flex. Flexing your lame, lame taste. Sorry, I know you bought it because you liked it, but what you failed to consider is just how un-Kitsch they are. SO common, and they advertise on Instagram. Sorry, I just can’t get into it! Kind of how I just never liked the Brandy Amara tanks. Or lowtop converse. Otterbox is just distressing. Like, if my boyfriend gave me an otterbox phone case I would probably break up with him because somebody clearly isn’t paying attention- one of my favorite, potentially overused joke is how Otterbox cases are the equivalent of orthopedic insoles. Sorry but if you have poor arch support or whatever, but no pain is worth giving up a good pair of Margiela slingback tabi heels. Obviously I couldn’t afford that right now because all loose income goes directly to Wildflower and my cig boy. But like, one day. I hope you want to punch me in the face a little bit after reading that.  If Wildflower isn’t your thing, at least have the decency to get a beaded phone strap. But not from String Ting. Pray tell you aren’t keeping score, but they are one of my several parasocial enemies. That should have been ME collaborating with Wildflower! Should have been ME mailing shit to Caroline Calloway (more on her later, but she is the only blue check I follow. I adore her! I was on her patreon for a bit I thinkl!!) …. Side note. Phone cases are cute but there is no way to properly protect your laptop without looking just absurd or colossally lame. The foam sleeves… ick.

Having the shittiest music taste ever

So like, here’s the thing. I’m an Apple Music user, which sort of reinstates my status as an unironic My Bloody Valentine Hyperpop Death Grips kinda gal. Read; volcel. My most recent conquest ended up being a huge L on my part, but also… I totally dodged a bullet. The guy had an iPhone 11 (female trait) and didn’t know who Rei Brown was, which just seemed suspicious given his Niche. I just know he had a “making out playlist” comprising entirely of like, Joji. Which isn’t a bad thing I guess but so unembarrassing it horseshoes back to being humiliating.Like I said. Having the worst music taste. It’s nice how subjective and deeply personal your music taste can be; no one really Needs to know you’re a die hard drainer. But there’s also no point in being a die-hard drainer and Not capitalizing off it somehow. I added it up and I have well over 150 hours of just Bladee and Yung Lean. Which is so yass? The more I write, using myself as a case study, I realize just how desperately jobless I am. And Yogenfruz isn’t even hiring! UGH!I think there is something very kitschy about liking hyperpop in the least ironic, least obnoxious way. Sort of feeds into a “I’m not like other girls” thing, but I mean… That’s kind of the idea of kitsch, isn’t it? Be a little different but also the very same as your lipgloss brethren?!Side note. If you make monthly playlists I am genuinely kind of afraid of you. That is just so organized!! I just make playlists with esoteric titles and then make a new one when I’m sick of the stuff on the last. I have exhausted most genres but I think my favorite is the “I’m wearing f****ng air forces and my teeth are SO white”. Guess what genre it is. Or don’t, but it’s probably what you think is. Okay, moving on….

Curating a scent

I like thinking I smell like mango and peach, Glossier you, whatever citrus is in that Lush shower jelly and mint 5Gum. But of course it is probably less distinct and just kind of generally fruit-floral-mint. Anyway. I think Glossier You is the perfect scent for anyone with a rather elementary understanding of the whole.. Perfume business. Every bottle of intentional fragrance I own was made via aesthetic choices… it really helps that Glossier You is so cute And so universal. Now, Glossier is kind of interesting to me because it really is at the intersection of cheugy and kitsch. Kind of basic, overplayed, unspectacular. But also…. Often popular things are popular because they are good. Glossier has excellent customer suurv, they ship SO fast (and no import duties! W!) and their stuff is just so sweet and nice if not unoriginal, in kind of the same way strawberry ice cream is. Which is still my favorite, of course, especially if there’s a vegan option. I was talking about Glossier. What the hell! It’s really worth trying out. A huge principle of kitsch is just… having as many possible layers and appendages to your composure as possible. And adding a signature scent just really completes that! When curating your own, I say this as a complete amateur, know-nothing; make it something that comes kind of naturally to Your Character. Like, I’m just not a Chanel No 5 kind of girl. Odds are you aren’t either. My bottle (before she asked for it back when I told her I didn’t use it, in exchange for a Nordstrom’s gift card) was from my grandmother. Ummm.. Yeah, I really have no expertise in curating a scent. But it is nice to have a signature. And having a bottle displayed on your dresser next to your aughties McDonald milkshake themed beanie baby and a handful of lip products is just way too fun! This is the kind of girl I am, everyone! Cluttered, but prioritizing pretty-delicate things!

Cheugyism

Cheugy is a relatively new word that has unfortunately wormed into my vocabulary to replace “uncouth”. Which I use to mean graceless or tacky, but if that isn’t what it means…. Don’t tell me. That would hurt more than weighing myself after a “feast” slash pastry binge at my dear Grandmothe’s house. Like I was saying. Cheugy. It’s sort of a fucked up concept to me because it is a critique on consumption, but not the pace or volume or magnitude of it. But rather… the idea of not being “good” enough at engaging in microtrends, or involvement in the fast paced fashion cycle. Don’t get me started on TikTok, or do, but… yeah,. No. That will require a cigarette because I’m so sorry, but writing a thinkpiece on social media is so lowbrow I would need to find about six ways to aesthetically counteract it…. Moving on.  I think the idea of cheugy is good, we really do need a word to simply and efficiently define “out of date/uninspired/lame”. But the way it is used to shame others for not liking the same trends or whatever is kind of gross. If you use cheugyism to put other people down and not as a neutral identifier umm… you will become what you fear. Sorry, that’s what happens. Some things that I think are cheugy or embarrassing, or just not part of my stylistic lexicon are… 1. Hooded or zip up clothing, or things with a large graphic on the back. Bingo if it's all three! I just can’t get behind it. Side note, my summer home outfit is brandy sweats and a tube top (Urban Outfitters tank I ripped the straps off) and a large cardigan that should have belonged to a stoner, but probably didn’t. I can dunk on bulky, uninspired clothes because I would honest to God NEVER be caught DEAD out of the house wearing any of it. I’m so serious. Next segment should be about the kitsch girl’s inadvertent affinity for diuretics. Remind me….. One of the ports of my laptop is dead. Not really sure what to do about that.

Eye makeup and what it means to me….

Personally, I am one of those people who never wears foundation and kind of has a complex about it. The kitsch girl wears fluffy eyelashes and owns a plethora of sparkly eyeliner. Or maybe she doesn’t, but she has something distinct and a little ritzy, if not haphazard. We all saw Euphoria and it like, totally imprinted on us. The way glitter sits on your face after a long day is so resplendent. When it’s shining and a little bit melted off from your long, semi-productive day… ugh! Just made for film. Pictures on film. But not the Prequel app. I keep getting fucking ads for it. But it’s so embarrassing. Like, isn’t the whole point of film the authenticity of the moment? The texture of the afternoon? Why would you fabricate that? Prequel is just so cheugy. More on that later. But anyhow. Wearing a ton of eye makeup kind of fits with the idea of film too I think. Like, look at you, in the moment. With your strip lash falling off! It’s all so tres-chic. Plus, for whatever reason, it’s kind of unique or notably dedicated to ~Pull up to the function~ with more eye makeup on than everyone else. Sorry, but it really doesn’t take that long! But yes I will gracefully accept your praise… it’s kind of like the dropshipping of complements if you think about it. Easy to source with little to no effort in the curating. Side note, lashes are like $20 for 40 weeks if you cut them in half and use each pair about 5 times. You could probably do more but I lose track. How the fuck is it almost June? I was trudging through the snow to check the mail for my Online Ceramics shirt just last week, I swear. The trick to cutting your lashes (the way I do it anyway) is pretty simple. Get out two lashes that are symmetrical. Find the middle and cut one slightly to the left and one slightly to the right. This means you have two sets (one set is a little more dramatic than the other but at least they are symmetrical) with longer outer edges. Glue this to the outer corner of your eye and you will look so Composed… obsessed with how this layers with three eyeliner tails (one traditional one pointing up and one pointing down directly below it, sort of like the tail light on a 2019 Lexus UX) and one below your eye, like a clown. Fun, irrelevant fact, is the first time I added this third tail to my eye makeup, my dad had just gotten home from the hospital because he was sure he had like appendicitis or something and it was actually.. Not that. Typical indie hypochondriac. He made me bring him cottage cheese on a plate with a teaspoon that evening. I put black pepper on it for flair, which he hated. Walking up and down stairs with a plate of cottage cheese is much more imprinting than most of the multiplication tables. Don’t forget to use a bright shimmer eyeshadow in your inner corner. It really opens up your eyes. I recommend Too Faced.  One time I got a little bit too high and tried to film an “editorial” makeup tutorial. You will never, ever, ever see that video. But I essentially covered my whole eyelid in the ABH shadow “palermo” and smudged out the edges with a tan Tartelette Toasted shade, coupled with my long-expired Milk Makeup holographic stick. Lopsided lashes and near-blinding eyeliner experience aside, it was kind of cool. My point is, you really cannot go wrong with an arsenal of shimmers, taupey mattes and a good eyeliner pen.

[magioftheseas]

Stick It To Dis Bear!

Summary: An alternate/bonus scene about THE STICKER in Chapter 25 of Super Danganronpa 2: Matsuda Yasuke’s Battle of Despair and Wits.

Rating: PG

Warnings: None really.

Notes: I just didn’t feel right leaving out the stupid sticker. I still haven’t gone to a theater in over a year. For obvious reasons. I think I’m done with theaters. Like, forever. The last film I saw was Birds of Prey. That was good. I don’t need to see another movie.

Read this fic among others HERE

Main story is HERE

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They managed to get all the testing done in one day, although if Hinata played along in hopes of being told everything, he ended up sorely disappointed. Another to add to the list of people who found Matsuda in general to be a disappointment as a person. At least, Matsuda had an inkling that such was how the chestnut felt.

He was dealing with his own disappointment—with Komaeda still dragging his feet even after Hinata got too exhausted to keep fucking around with them.

“I feel like nothing of value actually happened,” Hinata groused.

That’s because it did. So little happened that it’s barely worth a passing narration, Matsuda thought.

“You’ve done well, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda chirped. “Great work! As expected of an Ultimate!”

“Shove it,” Hinata snapped. “It would’ve been nice if any of that felt like it mattered.”

“Aw, Hinata-kun...” Komaeda does pout, and it visibly gets Hinata more flustered and frustrated. “I really am sorry that you feel like your time was wasted.” Komaeda turns the full force of that pout to Matsuda. “Hinata-kun feels that his time was wasted. Isn’t that sad? Don’t you feel sad?”

“Yeah,” Hinata agreed through gritted teeth. “Doesn’t that make you sad?”

What romcom bullshit did I wake up in now?

“...I guess... It’s sad?”

“It’s so sad!” Komaeda exclaimed emotionally. “Matsuda-kun, you must make up to him! If only it’d abate his pain a little!”

“I mean, I guess it was a pretty big pain,” Hinata agreed with that, too, even if he seemed more confused about it. “It’d be...nice if I got some compensation...”

“What the hell?” Matsuda balked at the idea. “You volunteered?”

“I don’t REMEMBER that!” Hinata shot back. “For all I know, you lied to my face AGAIN! You do seem to like lying if it benefits you!”

Matsuda opened his mouth but hummed thoughtfully. When he went to speak again, he thought against it and hummed some more.

“C-Can you at least pretend you’re ashamed?” Hinata asked, exasperated. “Like, if you agree, surely you see that it’s wrong...”

I don’t really care.

He especially doesn’t care to pretend he cares. That said...

Komaeda was pouting at him. Lower lip stuck out, puppy eyes, the works. For a kid who looked half on death’s doorstep, it shouldn’t have been that effective. What the fuck.

Matsuda sighed loudly.

I don’t really care, but...

“Alright. Compensation. I guess I can do that,” he said before muttering, “What kind of compensation, though...? Do you want a coupon or what?”

“What would I use a coupon for?” Hinata asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean—I would’ve been fine with just an apology.”

“Oh, Hinata-kun, such a martyr...” Komaeda gave him a pitying look. “You need to raise your standards.”

Hinata flinched for reasons beyond the current conversation.

“...I guess...”

“Yeah, you’re not getting an apology when I’m not sorry,” Matsuda said. “Pick something else.”

“Seriously?” Hinata gave him a look. “I... What the hell am I supposed to ask for?”

“A raise!” Komaeda exclaimed. “Extra vacation days! Or maybe a cruise!”

“I’m not paying for a fucking cruise,” Matsuda snapped. “Just how much money do you think I have?”

“Eh? But, Matsuda-kun, you’re a renowned neurologist,” Komaeda pointed out. “Even if you’re still a minor, you should be making a considerable amount of money...”

“Paid intern,” Matsuda corrected. “I could afford rent and instant food without having to pick up a parttime job on the side. Better than most...other people of my status...” He paused, having to stop himself for a moment before continuing, “I’m still not living the fancy life, though.”

Living as an orphan is never easy, especially in this country.

“That seems unfair,” Komaeda pointed out.

“What rock do you live under? That’s just how it is,” Matsuda scoffed. “Maybe if I had rich parents or even grandparents, it’d be different but I don’t.”

My worthless dad fucking ran the second shit got only a little difficult. Come to think of it, how did I manage after...?

“Rich parents,” Komaeda echoed as Matsuda rubbed his temple irritably. “I see.”

What now?

“Oh nothing!” Komaeda chirped, waving his hand as he was stared at by both Matsuda and Hinata. Right. Hinata.

This was supposed to be about Hinata.

“I, uh, don’t know much about making money,” Hinata confessed rather pitifully. “I’ve done some job-hunting...and I guess I’ve helped out at a convenience store? But only because my parents knew the owner...”

“How down to earth,” Matsuda remarked. “I knew a convenience store owner who gave me a sandwich because she felt sorry for me.”

“The one I knew hated me,” Komaeda chirped. “She said I was cursed! Which I guess was true!”

Both Matsuda and Hinata stared at him again, this time harder than before. Despite that, Komaeda remained bouncy and cheerful.

“Since financial compensation isn’t an option, I guess the best we can do is find something on the island to give Hinata-kun!”

“There’s a supermarket,” Matsuda pointed out dryly.

“I can just go there myself and grab whatever I want,” Hinata said. “I don’t need you picking up anything for me.”

“Do you want to be compensated or not?” Matsuda snapped.

“You’re not the kind of person who gets easily taken advantage of, right?” Komaeda asked, looking at him pityingly again.

“I’m not answering that,” Hinata griped. “But yes, I want compensation, I just... I don’t think I’m going to get the kind of compensation I actually want...”

Komaeda looked at Matsuda next.

“Sucks,” is all he had to offer.

Hinata grumbled, but wasn’t one to give up easily, almost as if he was motivated by a higher force.

“There’s stuff to do, right? Like, go to the beach...”

“I guess I can take you a beach and toss a frisbee for you to fetch,” Matsuda conceded.

“O-Or maybe relax at the park!!”

“Oh, should I bring a leash instead?” Matsuda asked, head tilted.

“T-There’s the movie theater!” Hinata exclaimed in a fit of desperation. “Let’s try that! Let’s go to the movies!”

Matsuda stared. Komaeda stared. Hinata took their silence as agreement.

“The movies,” he decided. “L-Let’s go to the movies.”

Matsuda and Komaeda traded looks.

It was decided, but not without reservations.

--

“Surely there’s more than one film showing,” Hinata said, looking up at the sign. “I mean... I know I wanted to come here but... This film is supposed to be really bad, right?”

“It is,” Matsuda confirmed.

“It really, really is,” Komaeda agreed. “No offense, Hinata-kun, but you’re going to have to watch this alone if you have your heart set on it.”

“I-I thought I was supposed to be getting treated?!” Hinata protested. “And—I won’t want to see it anyway! I just...” He trails off. “I just...thought it might be nice to watch a move... I wasn’t thinking about...”

Wasn’t thinking is right. I’m also surprised you have the energy.

“Guess it can’t hurt to check,” Matsuda said as he made his way inside. “Of course the main issue is asking...”

Komaeda whistled before Matsuda even had a second to truly dread what came before.

“WHAT AM I, A DOG?!” Monokuma shrieked. “Call me by my NAME or at least a TITLE if you can MANAGE IT?!”

“Why would I when you already answered?” Komaeda retorted. “I just wanted to ask some questions about any films playing?”

“Why? So you can break my fragile little bear heart all over again?” Monokuma sniffled. “Critics are vultures! Vultures, I tell ya!”

“Get the fuck over yourself,” Matsuda snapped. “We’re only here because this dumbass wants to see a movie.”

“I-I’m not a dumbass!” Hinata protested, but Monokuma looked at him as if he were, in fact, a dumbass. “What?! Do you have a problem with that?!”

“Eheh... Upupupu, and here I thought you didn’t want to watch it!” Monokuma cackled. “You were just being tsundere all along! Should’ve known!”

“I don’t want to watch that film, just a film,” Hinata hurriedly corrected but Monokuma just squealed.

“Such a tsundere that you even threw away millions for a sticker!”

“Millions...?” Matsuda echoed.

“For...a sticker?” Komaeda wondered, wide-eyed.

“Don’t worry about it!” Hinata yelped, waving his hand frantically. “I-It’s nothing to worry about!”

“I think tsundere syndrome IS pretty worrying!” Monokuma exclaimed, smacking Hinata on the ass and retrieving the one and only sticker. “I mean, honestly! Imagine paying 150 million yen for this lovely sticker just so you don’t have to watch a movie! Check it, check it!”

“Stop, don’t!” Hinata shrieked, but Monokuma couldn’t be deterred, flinging that sticker into Matsuda’s face.

Matsuda got a good look at it, as did Komaeda. The Monokuma sticker grinned back at them, with the cheekily written following words underneath: I’m sorry, I was born stupid.

Matsuda stared. Komaeda stared. The sticker smugly kept on staring back, radiating contempt and malice.

“H-Hinata-kun,” Komaeda began shakily, sounding close to tears. “You bought this for 150 million yen?”

“I-I had to take out a loan,” was Hinata’s pitiful explanation. “I didn’t...pay for it upfront...”

“What were you going to do if it accrued interest?” Matsuda asked blankly.

“And what are you going to do now that you’re gonna watch the movie anyway?!” Monokuma exclaimed. “All that money—wasted!”

“I can’t believe you’re going to go bankrupt over this shitty sticker,” Matsuda lamented, feeling genuinely apologetic for his cruel fate. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

And Hinata.

Just.

Screamed.

“ARGH FORGET IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!”

--

In the end, Hinata ran out of the theater. In the end, Matsuda and Komaeda wordlessly left as well. In the end, Monokuma surely laughed his furry ass off.

Another day largely wasted.

“Do you think Hinata-kun’s going to want his sticker back?” Komaeda asked, grimacing at the thing as if it had committed great offense. Which it had. Simply by existing. “Monokuma didn’t write up a contract. His word isn’t legally binding. Hinata-kun might not have to pay.”

“Hm.” Matsuda stuffed the sticker into his mouth, chewing it and swallowing it much to Komaeda’s awe. “It’s his word against ours. I can at least afford a lawyer.”

“I’ll pay for legal fees! Just for Hinata-kun!” Komaeda exclaimed, fired up now. “And—!”

“Once we get out of here, we’ll take him to see an actual movie,” Matsuda said.

Komaeda shut his mouth.

“Once we get out of here,” Matsuda repeated.

Komaeda said nothing else for the rest of the day, but there was a particular glimmer to his gaze. One that Matsuda took note of, and couldn’t help but hope for a greater significance.

[arcticdementor]

Stefanie Gray explains why, as a teenager, she was so anxious to leave her home state of Florida to go to college.

“I went to garbage schools and I’m from a garbage low-income suburb where everyone sucks Oxycontin all day,” she says. “I needed to get out.”

She got into Hunter College in New York, but both her parents had died and she had nowhere near enough to pay tuition, so she borrowed. “I just had nothing and was poor as hell, so I took out loans,” she says.

This being 2006, just a year after the infamous Bankruptcy Bill of 2005 was passed, she believed news stories about student loans being non-dischargeable in bankruptcy. She believed they would be with her for life, or until they were paid off.

“My understanding was, it’s better to purchase 55 big-screen TVs on a credit card, and discharge that in a court of law, then be a student who’s getting an education,” she says.

Still, she asked for financial aid: “I was like, ‘My parents are dead, I'm a literal fucking orphan, I have no siblings. I'm just taking out this money to put my ass through school.”

Instead of a denial, she got plenty of credit, including a slice of what were called “direct-to-consumer” loans, that came with a whopping 14% interest rate. One of her loans also came from a company called MyRichUncle that, before going bankrupt in 2009, would briefly become famous for running an ad disclosing a kickback system that existed between student lenders and college financial aid offices.

Gray was not the cliché undergrad, majoring in intersectional basket-weaving with no plan to repay her loans. She took geographical mapping, with the specific aim of getting a paying job quickly. But she graduated in the middle of the post-2008 crash, when “53% of people 18 to 29 were unemployed or underemployed.”

“I couldn't even get a job scrubbing toilets at a local motel,” she recalls. “They told me straight up that I was over-educated. I was like, “Literally, I'll do your housekeeping. I don't give a shit, just let me make money and not get evicted and end up homeless.”

The lender Sallie Mae at the time had an amusingly loathsome policy of charging a repeating $150 fee every three months just for the privilege of applying for forbearance. Gray was so pissed about having to pay $50 a month just to say she was broke that she started a change.org petition that ended up gathering 170,000 signatures.

She personally delivered those to the Washington offices of Sallie Mae and ended up extracting a compromise out of the firm: they’d still charge the fee, but she could at least apply it to her balance, as opposed to just sticking it in the company’s pocket as an extra. This meager “partial” victory over a student lender was so rare, the New York Times wrote about it.

“I definitely poked the bear,” she says.

Gray still owed a ton of student debt — it had ballooned from $36,000 to $77,000, in fact — and collectors were calling her nonstop, perhaps with a little edge thanks to who she was. “They were telling me I should hit up people I know for money, which was one thing,” she recalls. “But when they started talking about giving blood, or selling plasma… I don’t know.”

Sallie Mae ultimately sued Gray four times. In doing so, they made a strange error. It might have slipped by, but for luck. “By the grace of God,” Gray said, she met a man in the lobby of a courthouse, a future state Senator named Kevin Thomas, who took a look at her case. “Huh, I’ve got some ideas,” he said, eventually pointing to a problem right at the top of her lawsuit.

Sallie Mae did not represent itself in court as Sallie Mae. The listed plaintiff was “SLM Private Credit Student Loan Trust VL Funding LLC.” As was increasingly the case with mortgages and other forms of debt, student loans by then were typically gathered, pooled, and chopped into slices called tranches, to be marketed to investors. Gray, essentially, was being sued by a tranche of student loan debt, a little like being sued by the coach section of an airline flight.

When Thomas advised her to look up the plaintiff’s name, she discovered it wasn’t registered to do business in the State of New York, which prompted the judge to rule that the entity lacked standing to sue. He fined Sallie Mae $10,000 for “nonsense” and gave Gray another rare victory over a student lender, which she ended up writing about herself this time, in The Guardian.

Corporate creditors often play probabilities and mass-sue even if they don’t always have great cases, knowing a huge percentage of borrowers either won’t show up in court (as with credit card holders) or will agree to anything to avoid judgments, the usual scenario with student borrowers.

“What usually happens in pretty much 99% of these cases is you beg and plead and say, ‘Please don't put a judgment against me, I'll do anything… because a judgment against you means you're not going to be able to buy a home, you’re not going to be able to do basically anything involving credit for the next 20 years.”

…

The passage of the Bankruptcy Abuse Prevention and Consumer Protection Act of 2005 was a classic demonstration of how America works, or doesn’t, depending on your point of view. While we focus on differences between Republicans and Democrats, it’s their uncanny habit of having just a sliver of enough agreement to pass crucial industry-friendly bills that really defines the parties.

Whether it’s NAFTA, the Iraq War authorization, or the Obama stimulus, there are always just enough aisle-crossers to get the job done, and the tally usually tracks with industry money with humorous accuracy. In this law signed by George Bush, sponsored by Republican Chuck Grassley, and greased by millions in donations from entities like Sallie Mae, the crucial votes were cast by a handful of aisle-crossing Democrats, including especially the Delawareans Joe Biden and Tom Carper. Hillary Clinton, who took $140,000 from bank interests in her Senate run, had voted for an earlier version.

Party intrigue is only part of the magic of American politics. Public relations matter, too, and the Bankruptcy Bill turned out to be the poster child for another cherished national phenomenon: the double-lie.

…

Years later, pundits still debate whether there really ever was an epidemic of debt-fleeing deadbeats, or whether legislators in 2005 who just a few years later gave “fresh starts” to bankrupt Wall Street banks ever cared about “moral hazard,” or if it’s fair to cut off a single Mom in a trailer when Donald Trump got to brag about “brilliantly” filing four commercial bankruptcies, and so on.

In other words, we argue the why of the bill, but not the what. What did that law say, exactly? For years, it was believed that it absolutely closed the door on bankruptcy for whole classes of borrowers, and one in particular: students. Nearly fifteen years after the bill’s passage, journalists were still using language like, “The bill made it completely impossible to discharge student loan debt.”

…

The phrase “Just asking questions” today often carries a negative connotation. It’s the language of the conspiracy theorist, we’re told. But sometimes in America we’re just not told the whole story, and when the press can’t or won’t do it, it’s left to individual people to fill in the blanks. In a few rare cases, they find out something they weren’t supposed to, and in rarer cases still, they learn enough to beat the system. This is one of those stories.

…

Smith’s explanation of the history of the student loan exemption and where it all went wrong is biting and psychologically astute. In his telling, the courts’ historically sneering attitude toward student borrowers has its roots in an ages-old generational debate.

“This started out as an an argument between the Greatest Generation and Baby Boomers,” Smith notes. “A lot of the law was created by people railing against draft-dodging deadbeat hippies.”

He points to a 1980 ruling by a judge named Richard Merrick, who in denying relief to a former student, wrote the following:

The arrogance of former students who had received so much from society, frequently including draft deferment, and who had given back so little in return, accompanied by their vehemence in asserting their constitutional and statutory rights, frequently were not well received by legislators and jurists, senior to them, who had lived through the Depression, had worked their ways through college and graduate school, had served in World War II, and had been paying the taxes which made possible the student loans.

Smith laughs about this I didn’t climb the hills at Normandy with a knife in my teeth just to eat the debt on your useless-ass liberal arts degree perspective, noting that “when those guys who did all that complaining went to school, only rich prep school kids went to college, and by the way, tuition was like ten bucks.” Still, he wasn’t completely unsympathetic to the conservative position.

…

This concern about “deadbeats” gaming the system — kids taking out fat loans to go to school and bailing on them before the end of the graduation party — led that 1985 court to take a hardcore position against students who made “virtually no attempt to repay.” They established a three-pronged standard that came to be known as the “Brunner test” for determining if a student faced enough “undue hardship” to be granted relief from student debt.

Among other things, the court ruled that a newly graduated student had to do more than demonstrate a temporary inability to handle bills. Instead, a “total incapacity now and in the future to pay” had to be present for a court to grant relief. Over the course of the next decades, it became axiomatic that basically no sentient being could pass the Brunner test.

…

In 2015, he was practicing law at the Texas litigation firm Bickel and Brewer when he came across a case involving a former Pace University student named Lesley Campbell, who was seeking to discharge a $15,000 loan she took out while studying for a bar exam. Smith believed a loan given out to a woman who’d already completed her studies, and who used the money to pay for rent and groceries, was not covering an “educational benefit” as required by law. A judge named Carla Craig agreed and canceled Campbell’s loan, and Campbell v. Citibank became one of the earlier dents in the public perception that there were no exceptions to the prohibition on discharging student debts.

“I thought, ‘Wait, what? This might be important,’” says Smith.

By law, Smith believed, lenders needed to be wary of three major exceptions to the non-dischargeability rule:

— If a loan was not made to a student attending a Title IV accredited school, he thought it was probably not a “qualified educational loan.”

— If the student was not a full-time student — in practice, this meant taking less than six credits — the loan was probably dischargeable.

— And if the loan was made in an amount over and above the actual cost of attending an accredited school, the excess might not be “eligible” money, and potentially dischargeable.

Practically speaking, this means if you got a loan for an unaccredited school, were not a full-time student, or borrowed for something other than school expenses, you might be eligible for relief in court.

Smith found companies had been working around these restrictions in the blunt predatory spirit of a giant-sized Columbia Record Club. Companies lent hundreds of thousands to teenagers over and above the cost of tuition, or to people who’d already graduated, or to attendees of dubious unaccredited institutions, or to a dozen other inappropriate destinations. Then they called these glorified credit card balances non-dischargeable educational debts — Gray got one of these “direct-to-consumer” specials — and either sold them into the financial system as investments, borrowed against them as positive assets, or both.

…

Smith thought these practices were nuts, and tried to convince his bosses to start suing financial companies.

“They were like, ‘You do know what we do around here, right?’ We defend banks,” he recalls, laughing. “I said, ‘Not these particular banks.’ They said it didn’t matter, it was a question of optics, and besides, who was going to pay off in the end? A bunch of penniless students?”

Furious, Smith stormed off, deciding to hang his own shingle and fight the system on his own. “My sister kept saying to me, ‘You have to stop trying to live in a John Grisham novel,’” he recalls, laughing. “There were parts of it where I was probably super melodramatic, saying things like, ‘I'm going to go find justice.’”

Slowly however, Smith did find clients, and began filing and winning cases. With each suit, he learned more and more about student lenders. In one critical moment, he discovered that the same companies who were representing in court that their loans were absolutely non-dischargeable were telling investors something entirely different. In one prospectus for a trust packed full of loans managed by Sallie Mae, investors were told that the process for creating the aforementioned “direct-to-consumer” loans:

Does not involve school certification as an additional control and, therefore, may be subject to some additional risk that the loans are not used for qualified education expenses… You will bear any risk of loss resulting from the discharge.

Sallie Mae was warning investors that the loans might be discharged in bankruptcy. Why the honesty? Because the parties who’d be packaging and selling these student loan-backed instruments included Credit Suisse, JP Morgan Chase, and Deutsche Bank.

“It’s one thing to lie to a bunch of broke students. They don’t matter,” Smith says. “It’s another to lie to JP Morgan Chase and Deutsche Bank. You screw those people, they’ll fight back.”

…

In June of 2018, a case involving a Navy veteran named Kevin Rosenberg went through the courts. Rosenberg owed hundreds of thousands of dollars and tried to keep current on his loans, but after his hiking and camping store folded in 2017, he found himself busted and unable to pay. His case was essentially the opposite of Brunner: he clearly hadn’t tried to game the system, he made a good faith effort to pay, and he demonstrated a long-term inability to make good. All of this was taken into consideration by a judge named Cecilia Morris, who ruled that Rosenberg qualified for “undue hardship.”

“Most people… believe it impossible to discharge student loans,” Morris wrote. “This Court will not participate in perpetuating these myths.” The ruling essentially blew up the legend of the unbeatable Brunner standard.

Given a fresh start, Rosenberg moved to Norway to become an Arctic tour guide. “I want people to know that this is a viable option,” he said at the time. The ruling attracted a small flurry of news attention, including a feature in the Wall Street Journal, as the case sent a tremor through the student lending world. More and more people were now testing their luck in bankruptcy, suing their lenders, and asking more and more uncomfortable questions about the nature of the education business.

In the summer of 2012, a former bond trader named Michael Grabis sat in the waiting room of a Manhattan financial company, biding time before a job interview. In the eighties, Grabis’s father was a successful bond trader who worked in a swank office atop the World Trade Center, but after the 1987 crash, the family fell out of the smart set overnight. His father lost his job and spiraled, his mother had to look for a job, and “we just became working class people.”

Michael tried to rewrite the family story, going to school and going into the bond business himself, first with the Bank of New York, and eventually for Schwab. But he, too, lost his job in a crash, in 2008, and now was trying to break the pattern of bubble economy misery. However, he’d exited Pennsylvania’s Lafayette College in the nineties carrying tens of thousands in student loans. That number had since been compounded by fees and penalties, and the usual letters, notices, and phone calls from debt collectors came nonstop.

Now, awaiting a job interview, his phone rang again. It was a collection call for Sallie Mae, and it wasn’t just one voice on the line.

“They had two women call at once,” Grabis recalls. “They told me I’d made bad life choices, that I lived in too expensive a city, that I had to move to a cheaper place, so I could afford to pay them,” Grabis explains. “I tried to tell them I was literally at that moment trying to get a job to help pay my bills, but these people are trained to just hound you without listening. I was shaking when I got off the phone, and ended up having a bad interview.”

Two years later, more out of desperation and anger than any real expectation of relief, Grabis went to federal court in the Southern District of New York and filed for bankruptcy. At the time, he, too, believed student loans could not be eliminated. But the more he read about the way student loans were constructed and sold — he’d had experience in doing shovel-work constructing mortgage-backed securities, so he understood the Student Loan Asset-Backed Securities (SLABS) market — he started to develop a theory. Everyone dealing with the finances of higher education in America knew the system was rotten, he thought. But what if someone could prove it?

The 2005 Bankruptcy Act says former students can’t discharge loans for “qualified educational expenses,” i.e. loans given to students so that they might attend tax-exempt non-profit educational institutions. Historically, that exemption covered almost all higher education loans.

What if America’s universities no longer deserve their non-profit status? What if they’re no longer schools, and are instead first and foremost crude profit-making ventures, leveraging federal bankruptcy law and the I.R.S. code into a single, ongoing predatory lending scheme?

This is essentially what Grabis argued, in a motion filed last January. He named Navient, Lafayette College, the U.S. Department of Education, Joe Biden, his own exasperated judge, and a host of other “unknown co-perpetrators” as part of a scheme against him, claiming the entirety of America’s higher education business had become an illegal moneymaking scam.

“They created a fraud,” he says flatly.

…

Grabis doesn’t have a lawyer, his case has been going on for the better part of six years, and at first blush, his argument sounds like a Hail Mary from a desperate debtor. The only catch is, he might be right.

By any metric, something unnatural is going on in the education business. While other industries in America suffered declines thanks to financial crises, increased exposure to foreign competition, and other factors, higher education has grown suspiciously fat in the last half-century. Tuition costs are up 100% at universities over and above inflation since 2000, despite the 2008 crash, with some schools jacking up prices at three, four times the rate of inflation dating back to the seventies.

Bloat at the administrative level makes the average university look like a parody of an NFL team, where every brain-dead cousin to the owner gets on the payroll. According to Education Week, “fundraisers, financial aid advisers, global recruitment staff, and many others grew by 60 percent between 1993 and 2009,” which is ten times the rate of growth for tenured faculty positions.

…

Hovering over all this is a fact not generally known to the public: many American universities, even ones claiming to be broke, are sitting atop mountains of reserve cash. In 2013, after the University of Wisconsin blamed post-crash troubles for raising tuition 5.5%, UW system president Kevin Reilly in 2013 admitted that the school actually held $638 million in reserve, separate and distinct from the school endowment. Moreover, Reilly said, other big schools were doing the same thing. UW’s reserve was 25% of its operating budget, for instance, but the University of Minnesota’s was 29%, while Illinois maintained a whopping 34% buffer.

When Alan Collinge of Student Loan Justice looked into it, he found many other schools were sitting atop mass reserves even as they pleaded poverty to raise tuition rates. “They’re all doing it,” he said.

In the mortgage bubble that led to the 2008 crash, financiers siphoned fortunes off home loans that were unlikely to be repaid. Student loans are the same game, but worse. All the key players get richer as that $1.7 trillion pile of debt expands, and the fact that everyone knows huge percentages of student borrowers will never pay is immaterial. More campus palaces get built, more administrators get added to payrolls, and perhaps most importantly, the list of assets grows for financial companies, whether or not the loans perform.

…

“As long as it’s collateralized at Navient, they can borrow against that,” Smith says. “They say, ‘Look, we've got $3 billion in assets, which are just consumer loans in negative amortization that are not being repaid, but are being artificially kept out of default so Navient can borrow against that from other banks.

“When I realized that, I was like, ‘Oh, my god. They’re happy that the loans are growing instead of being repaid, because it gives them more collateral to borrow against.’” Smith’s comments echo complaints made by virtually every student borrower in trouble I’ve ever interviewed: lenders are not motivated to reduce the size of balances by actually getting paid. Instead, the game is about keeping loans alive and endlessly growing the balance, through new fees, penalties, etc.

There are two ways of approaching reform of the system. One is the Bernie Sanders route, which would involve debt forgiveness and free higher education. A market-based approach meanwhile dreams of reintroducing discipline into student lending; if students could default, schools couldn’t endlessly raise costs on the back of unlimited government-backed credit.

Which idea is more correct can be debated, but the one thing we know for sure is that the current system is the worst of both worlds, enriching all the most undeserving actors, and hitting that increasingly prevalent policy sweet spot of privatized profit and socialized risk. Whether it gets blown up in bankruptcy courts or simply collapses eventually under its own financial weight — there’s an argument that the market will be massively disrupted if and when the administration ends the Covid-19 deferment of student loan payments — the lie can’t go on much longer.

“It’s just obvious that this has become a printing money operation,” says Grabis. “The colleges charge whatever they want, then they go to the government and continuously increase the size of the loans.” If you’re on the inside, that’s a beautiful thing. What about for everyone else?

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Fifteen (Part Two)

**A Chris Evans Story**

Previous Chapter Here

Tags: @jennmurawski13 @kelbabyblue

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, strong language, generally a bit awkward

Notes: This is a long chapter, sorry. Any comments welcome, good and bad.

Chapter Fifteen (Part Two)

“Let me just bring up your booking here, one moment please.”

The lobby of The Langham was an ocean of grey and blue. The sun was shining brightly outside, the hottest day of the year so far, and it reflected in every surface of the space and accompanying bar. It was sparse on the usual detailing, instead preferring a minimalist approach; the check-in desk consisted of a mere iPad and one lily artfully growing from a tall, geometrical glass vase. Random art hung from all sides. One looked vaguely like a donkey, Sarah was sure. There was also what she thought was an ash tray balanced on a pillar to the left of where she was standing but she didn’t dare to investigate it any closer in case it cost the price of a small car.

It had the same over-perfumed odour as the fragrance section of a Macy’s. The tiled floor look so clean and fresh you could be forgiven for thinking it had only just been laid that very morning. Sarah felt a pang of guilt walking in wearing her scuffed Converse. She always felt so out of place in places like this. It was the kind of place she would run a mile from if she had the choice but Greg had an “in” with the manager and now here she was. 

“So that will be four nights in our Executive Suite with Central Park view. You also have the bar allowance of $150 per night. You just need to take the elevator up to the 32nd floor and it’s the second door on your left. Would you like a hand with your bags, madam?” She motioned for the concierge to come over but held her hand up when she spied the puzzled look on Sarah’s face.

“I’m really sorry but I think there’s been some kind of mistake. I didn’t book a suite, just a standard double and I don’t think I pre-paid for any bar allowance. I didn’t even know I could do that to be honest.” Sarah chuckled awkwardly in an attempt to diffuse the tension but it fell on deaf ears. She handed the key card back to the lady, unsure of what else to suggest.

The lady showed practically no emotion at the possible mistake and simply took another look at her records before confirming that she was in fact correct with the initial room choice. “It’s definitely your suite, and...everything is paid for in advance. Could it have been made on your behalf? It looks like it was upgraded yesterday afternoon.”

Sarah wasn’t sure if she was asking her a question or telling her. She couldn’t believe she wasn’t biting her hand off but she hoped she hadn’t made some kind of horrific error her bank wouldn’t forgive her for. She could barely afford the double room she’d booked as it was and she’s sure the college wouldn’t have upgraded her without letting her know in advance. It made zero sense. They couldn’t have that kind of money going spare, putting students up in posh suites. She had no clue what could have happened.

Unless...Chris?

No, it wouldn’t be. He was less than pleased to hear she’d be away as it was. Except...well, who else? Sarah rolled her eyes a little too obviously before accepting the key card back. “That’s OK. I think I know what’s happened. It’s only the one bag. I can manage it.”

The lady nodded her thanks and, smiling politely, pointed her back towards the elevators. Sarah couldn’t move away from her fast enough.

Arriving at her floor, Sarah emerged from the lift expecting someone to come running up to her to confirm that they had in fact made a horrendous mistake. She slipped the key card into her door before pushing her way in to find her new home for the week.

The bedroom was large, uncomfortable so, with the bed positioned just off the middle in the room. Sarah figured the designer for a psychopath. It was big but not as empty as the lobby would have had her believe. In fact, it seemed reassuringly cosy despite the windows, so many windows stretching around the suite. There was a soft blue curved sofa opposite a screen that she’d seen smaller versions of in a cinema. Cushions fucking everywhere and fluffy white slippers she’d probably never take off again.

Everything seemed to be controlled from an iPad set in a stand by the bedroom door; the lights, the curtains, the air freshener, some background music for ambiance if she wanted. The windows tinted darker to block out the sunlight. Even the $1300 coffee machine was remote controlled; she had recognised it from the last edition of Home & Country Jocelyn had mailed to her, the exact one Shanna had been dropping hints about to Chris as a potential Christmas present.

The lounge offered her the clearest view of Central Park and with the light at this time in the afternoon, it was beyond stunning. She snapped a picture and considered texting it to Shanna but thought better of drawing attention to where she was staying. There was no way she could pass this off as a standard room even with her best efforts.

It was almost a shame to waste all of this on just herself. This room deserved romance, she thought.

Around the same time, Chris was on his third beer of the afternoon and lounging on his sofa. He had a new script in one hand, one he wasn’t particularly keen on but offered to read as a favour for a friend. He was so relaxed now that he had to re-read the last ten or so pages simply because it wasn’t landing. The whole room was lit softly by the sun outside. It had gone 4 o’clock when his phone rang disturbing the peace.

“Bernette! How was the journey?” he smiled into the phone as soon as he saw who it was.

“The bathtub is the size of my entire bathroom.” She announced, not giving him room to breathe. She heard him laugh heartily at the end of the line and could picture him looking smug and proud of himself, the dick. “I could have an orgy with the Patriots and still have room left.”

“Hey, don’t go getting any ideas.” he jostled with her. He placed the script down on the tablet to give her his full attention. “So, you like it, huh?”

“It’s...it’s absolutely gorgeous and utterly ridiculous. Seriously, dude, you did not need to do this.” She could sense his growing pride from here. “I’ve never stayed in anything like it. I have, like, a hundred towels.”

“That’s why I did it in the first place. Not for the towels, obviously, but just because you deserved something different. Something nice.” He enthused. “Don’t fight me on this, Bernette.”

“You should see the view. It’s so beautiful. I think I can see the museum.” She was stood on her tiptoes, pressed against the glass, looking at the tiny people milling around on the street so far below her. 

“i know,” he responded. “You’ll be there for a week and best to be comfortable, right?”

She didn’t want to argue with him. She was tired and extremely grateful for the kind gesture. She’d be able to enjoy the place and her time in the City more if she could firmly separate her work from any space in which she could chill out. It wasn’t like she was going to be raving all night nor have much chance to see places at this rate, so more space was probably a good thing. She hadn’t had an unbroken night’s sleep in...she couldn’t even remember when.

“Thank you, Chris.” she spoke softly after a brief pause.

“You’re welcome.”

She put her phone down on the bedside table and set about removing her clothes from her suitcase. Well, “clothes” in the loose sense. What she’d packed was basically gym gear, sweat pants, t-shirts, nothing remotely attractive, and a simple paid of black trousers for the exam day itself. Who was going to see her anyway? Shanna had thrown a jumper in the mix without her realising, dismayed at her insistence that she was not going out to bars to hook up with someone.

“But you’ll be gone the next day! It’s. The. Perfect. Crime!” Shanna had said, exasperated and throwing her hands in the air in dismay.

The majority of space in her suitcase has been taken up with journals and textbooks, ones she hadn’t see since she left medical school and had long since expected she would never see again. Funny what opportunities life threw at you when you least expected it.

She was soon feeling the push and pull of the day and had planned on spending at least a couple of hours studying that evening, so she had a clean-up and threw on the first set of sweatpants that fell out of the closet. She tied her hair up and out of her face, pulled out her notepad and switched her Macbook on. The TV was showing some repeat of a gameshow with the sound on low, more for background company than anything else, and she finally figured out how to get the coffee machine working thanks to a small tome buried inside a drawer underneath the coffee table.

Chris 9.44pm: All OK? Need company yet??

Sarah 9.45pm: I love you guys bt I can’t tell u how amazing it is having space to myself. Been a looooong day

Chris 9.51pm: ah

Chris 9.52pm: OK maybe don’t look outside your door

Momentarily confused, she rubbed at her eyes trying to come up with a pithy response.

Chris 9.56pm: well this is awkward...........

Sarah looked at the door and then back at her phone. Looking up at the door again, she unfolded her feet from underneath her and slowly walked towards it. Pulling it open, she found Chris looking up at her through his lashes, sheepishness drenching his entire body.

“OK, funny story,” he said. “But I thought this might be romantic and then I got carried away and now I’m here and I can absolutely go if you need me to...?” He half-turned his body in the direction of the elevators. “I’m so sorry, honey. I just thought it might be nice and not at all annoying but it’s annoying, isn’t it? It’s OK, you don’t need to say anything. Dammit, I really thought I pitched this right.”

“Chris, it’s fine.” Sarah finally found her voice to speak. “Honestly. I’m...I’m just really surprised is all. I was not expecting you to...drive? All this way?”

He nodded. “Yeh, I just bombed it down the ‘95.”

Awkward silence fell between them as they stared at each other unsure of what to do next. Finally picking up on the fact he remained in the hallway, a backpack thrown over his shoulder, she moved out of the way and he entered the suite. Relieved, he placed his bag down and turned to see her close the door behind him. He looked mildly embarrassed and she was all too aware she wasn’t welcoming but it was getting late and her eyes had started to hurt a little as she rubbed at them with the back of her hand.

“Fuck, that’s a long couch.” he announced, taking his black suede jacket off and placing it over the armrest nearest to him. He glanced over and saw papers strewn over the coffee table, her laptop light blaring brightly and looked back to her. She was working hard and he had ruined it.

“I am so sorry. First thing tomorrow, I’ll go home, I promise.” He held his hands up by way of an apology but she shook her head in response.

“Stop apologising.” she chuckled. “Do you want a beer?”

He nodded gratefully and looked so adorable that any annoyance she might have felt finally dissipated. “How about I give you a hug and then leave you to it? I need a shower and I can amuse myself in there for a little while. I don’t know why I just said that.”

Sarah laughed again and a little more relief moved through him. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so nervous when he had been so confident of his decisions in the car all the way here. He’d rehearsed his lines and imagined her big smile when seeing behind the door. He had wanted to stop off and buy flowers but he was so eager to see her, he’d just kept driving. No daydream could live up to the reality of seeing her face up close.

*

He watched her from the bathroom doorway. She was cross-legged on the bed, studying the thickest textbook he’d ever seen with colour-coded notecards laid out across the duvet. He had earlier glimpsed a page over her shoulder but decided against pursuing medicine as a new career when he was faced with photographs of god knows what. He tried to remove the images from his mind by drinking another beer and thinking of Sarah in her scrubs. That tended to work well for him these days.

She looked so cute sat on the bed, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. He wanted to come up with a joke, calm the tension a little that had grown between them in the meantime, but she looked pretty hot. More hot than usual and it was distracting. Like a sexy Librarian and for the second time this month he discovered something else he was into.

One pen was stuck behind her ear but she’d forgotten she’d put it there and was now using a different one. Her hair was tied up at the top of her head in a messy bun that she hadn’t touched since she’d arrived, more and more strands falling loosely around her as the evening wore on, framing her perfect, round face. She seemed to engrossed in what she was doing.

He was still a little wet from his shower and pondered whether she would notice if he just whipped his towel off and offered himself to her. There really wasn’t anything he wanted more at this moment in time than to have her touch him, to have her run hands gently over his chest, to tease him a little bit. There’d be some time, he reasoned, and right not it was just was exhilarating to think of her being here alongside him knowing it would be just the two of them for a little while.

He perched on the end of the bed in front of her. She barely moved, barely seemed to notice him. He took one of her blank notecards and carefully placed it on the open page so as not to lose her place. She leaned back slightly, allowing him to gather up the papers and place them in a pile on the floor besides the bed before turning back to lean in towards her, one arm stretching out across her legs. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes again. She wanted peace and quiet and he decided to rock up just because he could. He sighed to himself. He was such a dick sometimes.

“Do you mind me being here?” he asked her, fully resigning himself to leaving if she now asked him to as hard as that might be. He’d got so caught up in his idea of surprising her that he hadn’t fully registered just how important these exams were or how well she wanted to do. Passing them wasn’t an option for Sarah; she wanted to knock it out of the park. She wanted to do better for herself and the more he got to know her like this, the more it became his favourite thing about her. And he related. He related perfectly. He knew exactly what that was like. “Cos I can go if you need me to.”

“Chris, I’ve said it’s fine. It’s nice that you’re here. I would just hate you feeling bored if all I’m doing is studying all the time.” She nervously twirled the pen between her fingers while taking in how amazing he looked following a shower, a little steam rising off his skin.

“I won’t get bored.” he assured her. “It’ll be nice hanging out with you. Just the two of us.”

He plucked the pen from behind her ears and she rolled her eyes realising the mistake she’d made. He tucked strands of hair back and leaned in placing a quick, soft kiss to her lips. He smelled like her coconut shampoo and she just now understood how truly spontaneous his trip had been.

“Listen, there’s another reason why I’m here. There’s something I need to talk to you about and I couldn’t wait until you got home.” he stroked her arm gently, looking down into her lap. “It’s been going around in my head and I’m not entirely sure what to say about it to be honest, but...it looks like Jenny’s done an interview with a magazine. A full thing with a photoshoot and stuff and it looks like I might be involved.” He closed his eyes for a second before correcting himself. “Not might actually, it’s pretty much definite that I’m in there for a large portion of it.”

“OK.” Sarah nodded. He for sure seemed weary of the whole thing and she felt for him.

“I just, I know she can be pretty unfiltered at the best of times, so-”

“-but she won’t have said anything negative, right?”

“No, no, not negative. I’m not worried about that exactly. It’s just that...” He was struggling to find the words. “I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about us, about me and her. I expect she’ll have this hyper-romanticised view of things and I guess I didn’t want you thinking it was some great love affair which is what I think she’ll spin it as.” He couldn’t quite meet her eye while he was talking. “I’m not proud of myself or of what I said or did at the time but I was low and she was there and it was...easy, I guess.”

He immediately regretted his choice of words. As much as he wanted Sarah to understand, he didn’t want Sarah to think he was dismissive of his relationships in this way. “Matt’s figuring out some damage control with them. Hopefully, it’ll go away as quickly as it comes.”

“You think he’ll be able to clear it up?”

Chris nodded. Matt was a formidable guy and he was assured things would look and read much better by the time it went to print. He placed his hand on her thigh and it was only now she registered just how close he was to surrounding her.  “I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve all too often but when I do, they know about it. I want to make them aware of exactly how I feel about them and I didn’t do that with her.” He dipped his head to catch her eye line. “So, when I do something for someone, it means something, y’know?”

“Yeh, of course. You’re a good guy, Chris. Everyone knows that.” She took his hand and lightly interlocked their fingers together.

“I guess I just didn’t want you worrying about her ‘cos there’s absolutely nothing there for me. Never had been.”

“You don’t need to explain this to me, I’m not going to hold anything against you.” she stroked his chin with her thumb and felt him relax into her hand. He glanced down at the mess he’d made on the floor and started picking a few things back up.

“How much left do you have to do tonight?” he whispered as his lips closed upon hers for a fleeting moment.

“I could do with finishing some notes but...half an hour, maybe?”

“I’ll hold you to that.” he kissed her again and got up from the bed, lifting her books back on top. “Just come get me when you’re done, yeh?”

*

Finishing up in the bathroom, Sarah switched off the light and moved towards the bed. She kneeled alongside Chris who was lying flat out, naked except for the duvet bunched across legs, reading what she assumed was the hotel magazine only to find upon closer inspection that it was in fact one of her medical journals. She giggled as she grabbed the moisturiser from the bedside table and began rubbing a small amount up and down her arms, regarding him as his nose creased up in apparent disgust at something he’d just read. 

“Did you know the body has ten times more microorganisms living in it than actual human cells?! That’s bacteria, Sarah. Living, gross bacteria. All over us.” he looked at her, shock and horror crossing his fine, perfect features. She wasn’t sure whether to pat him on the head or laugh.

“It’s mostly good bacteria, though. Only, like, 1% of it is bad for us.”

“And when exactly were you going to tell me about this?!”

She creased up laughing and flopped on to her side next to him. “It’s all information that’s out there for the world to see. Remind me not to tell you about eyelashes.”

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever removed from somebody’s ass?” he asked.

“What? Why is that always a question people want an answer to?”

“I don’t know. It’s just weird. Humans are weird.” he muttered, turning back to the pages in front of him. She was glad he had chosen one without pictures. That was the last thing she wanted to see before falling asleep.

“So, have you learned something new?” she asked, curling her legs under the duvet.

“I have. I think you should test me and if I get a question wrong, you can do whatever you like to me. Deal?” he asked, smirking. She shyly smiled and he tossed the book onto the floor. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She repeated. She watched as his eyes slowly travelled down her body. It was unreasonable how much he managed to disarm her with only a look.

His hand reached out to gently caress the side of her thigh, nudging the duvet slightly down before moving back up to her hip, a ticklish area he’d picked up on the last time they were together. He leaned in and kiss her on the side of her jaw, so feather-like and soft she barely felt it if not for his warm breath she could feel on her neck.

“You smell nice.” he whispered, looking at her from underneath his eyelashes. “We could have showered together, y’know? Save the planet?”

As much as she was getting used to the little things he would do when they were alone, rubbing her arm, tucking hair behind her ears, saying nice things about how pretty she looked, having him here in such close proximity with no else around to distract them or force them into the light...it was getting risky. Not that Chris ever pushed her, mind. He’d been nothing but understanding and respectful and she was grateful for that but also growing concerned he was perhaps a little...bored. Why else would he drive over state lines to see her. None of this was normal and the more time went by, the more she became fretful of what they were doing.

“What are you thinking about?” he kissed her shoulder. “Is it dirty? If it’s dirty, I wanna know about it.”

Sarah smiled and placed her hand on the side of his face, running her fingers gently over his beard. He’d thoroughly given up shaving but she liked how soft it still felt under her finger tips and judging by the breath he released as he closed his eyes, so did he, relaxing into her hand. He kissed her again. She was hoping he’d take charge so she could put off talking to him a little longer but instead, he refrained from pushing them any further and leaned back a little, looking into her eyes. “Talk to me.”

She could feel his hand move slowly and deliberately up her arm until he reached the back of her neck, his fingers playing with the loose strands of hair that had fallen from her messy bun. There was no getting away from this.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? It’s OK for you to tell me what you want.” She could feel his breath on her skin, his voice low and rough. His fingers moved again and she felt them touch her lips, one of them running back and forth over her lower lip until she parted them ever so slightly and his finger softly dipped inside her mouth. He seemed to like that and kissed her again, a little harder this time.

“Just keep kissing me.” she whispered, relieved that se finally got some words out.

He smiled at her, satisfied with her response, and kissed her again. Slow, wet, a kind of kiss that was full of promise of what he wanted to do and it made her whole body thrum with anticipation.

One hand now resting on the bed beside her and the other moved from her cheek back down to her thigh. She was frozen to the spot, this man focussed on her so intently, prepared to give her whatever she asked for, whatever she needed, expressing so much in a kiss that she didn’t register when her hand began moving slowly, grazing a finger ever so slightly over the waistline of her shorts.

“...and what else?”

A little more, he moved his hand until his fingers dipped inside her underwear until he felt her skin, hot to the touch. She broke the kiss momentarily to let out a breath, one hand resting on the back of his neck for leverage as he continued tenderly moving his fingers until he got to where he wanted to be. Feeling her wet for him seemed to spark something inside and she felt him push her carefully until she was lying back on the bed, head just off the pillow, and he leaned over her. He adjusted his hand ever so slightly until she could feel his fingers pressing at her entrance before moving in small circular motions, riling her up.

“Look at me, honey.” he whispered, his voice rough and turned on as he wanted her grabbing at the covers as he stroked her. She tried to but she couldn’t stop her eyes from closing again, zoned out with only his smooth and confident movements to focus on. It was almost getting too much with him hitting her at just the right spot for her to lose herself completely when, just like that, he pulled his hand away and grabbed both sides of her underwear to pull them down and off her legs. The next thing she remembered was the feel of him skilfully grabbing her from underneath her thighs, his tongue swiftly taking over.

It didn’t take long for her to feel like was she coming undone and him feeling proud of himself. She couldn’t fight it and with one arm draped across her lower tummy, he certainly had not intention of letting her get away. Any feelings of awkwardness were soon a thing of the past as she let the gentle, unbridled bliss he was giving her wash over her completely. She honestly couldn’t remember ever feeling anything like this before, she was so out of it. He was covering her completely, her wetness mixing with his own, his beard rubbing against her smooth skin adding another level of pleasure. 

She ran her fingers through his hair, messing it up. His tongue hit her clit again and again causing her to give him a short, sharp pull. His groan was so filthy and deep from within him, she felt it reverberate through her, raising goose bumps up and down her skin.

He wanted her on the edge as much as he felt he was. He wanted her to want him, to tell him exactly what she wanted him to do. He wanted her on fire. He wanted to hear her beg.

Just as she was on the edge for a second time, he stopped and blew softly across her wisps of hair. He chuckled when he heard what sounded like a quiet yet frustrated groan leave her lips, followed by a chuckle, something innocent and familiar. Her hands loosened from his hair as they stared into each other’s eyes, their mutual breathlessness the only sound they could hear.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered, the breath from his words scorching her skin. He moved his tongue just a little lower, not breaking eye contact, and she felt him dip ever so slightly inside of her, his arm wrapped around her thigh and the pad of his thumb taking care of the rest. He did this a second time, then a third, and when he returned to pressing his tongue over her clit, drawing her into his mouth, she was soon grabbing at him in any way she could in a futile attempt to take the edge off the orgasm that was coming at her like a freight train.

She was close. He knew she was so close now and he held his arms tightly around her to keep her close to him. One more swipe of his tongue right....there...and she was gone.

When her breathing even out, she slowly opened her eyes to see him move up and over her, placing soft, wet kisses on her hip, her tummy, her neck, and finally on her lips. He seemed cautious to kiss her, unsure of whether she wanted him to but she grabbed his face with both hands to pull him back down to her, kissing him as passionately as she could manage with what felt like no energy. She could taste herself and it was so much more erotic than she could ever have imagined. 

She felt him smile into the kiss as he carefully settled his body on top of hers, allowing her to wrap her legs around him. He moved the hair that was sticking to her forehead and stroked her face with one finger, gently mapping her eye and her nose and her cheek. She couldn’t reconcile this being the same man who had minutes earlier been so dominant. He had so clearly wanted to say something at that point if only his hardness hadn’t been so distracting. He mover one arm under her neck, using the other hand to move hair from where it had clung to the side of her face. Holding her as close to him as possible and feeling blissful when he felt her legs wrap around his own, he entered her and held still, enjoying the moment.

“We should’ve done this years ago.” he spoke and for a brief moment, without realising, she was pulled from their intimacy, a pang of guilt taking its place.

He was too busy pushing into her, needing whatever she had left to give him. He grabbed at the back of her neck to keep her in place, his face buried into her hair. She felt her skin heat up all over from his breath as he panted at her side. It was more frantic than he’d wanted it to be as he groaned and moaned and pushed his whole weight into her with force. It was really all she could do to just hang on to him as he fucked her deeper, as he surged towards his own orgasm, then letting go when she felt him shudder insider her minutes later. He sounded helpless and as much as he tried to hold himself up from collapsing on her, he soon gave up trying and laid his head on her shoulder.

His warm breath continued covering her skin as she ran her hand gently over the back of his head. She felt him chuckle a vibration into the top of her arm before a wet kiss landed just underneath her ear, a place he had deigned his own after he realised how sensitive she was on that particular spot.

Finally rolling off her to lie on his back, he kept his arm stretched across her lower tummy and rubbed his fingers across the apex of her thigh. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed in this position but at some point he leaned over her to turn the bedside light off plunging the room into complete darkness and they continued to lie there in silence not really sure if the other was asleep or not.

He eventually turned onto his side to face her, keeping a firm grip on her waist. He was across her pillow and she could practically feel the flutter of his eyelashes as he watched her in the dark, a soft outline gradually appearing as his eyes adjusted to the blackness of the room, making out her features. she felt his hand move up and down her ribcage and over the inside of her elbow, another sensitive spot that made her shudder and him chuckle again when he realised she was in fact still awake.

She turned onto her side to face him and his hand moved to her lower back where it finally rested over her hip. She pushed her leg in between his and he seemed content and comfortable in how they were existing in this space, both aware they didn’t have to worry about getting up any time soon. He was running his fingers up and down her spine in slow, circular motions and it felt wonderful. Too wonderful. And there was that guilt again.

“What will you do tomorrow?” she asked.

He took a deep breath in contemplation at her unexpected question. “Gym looks pretty good. I have a book and a couple of scripts, too. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” she murmured but he knew she was dwelling on something.

“I wanna be here for you if you need anything and if you don’t, you won’t even know I’m around. I promise.”

“I know that, too.”

She could sense him smile at her even in their dark. “Good.” he said. “It feels nice knowing I’ve made a good decision for a change.”

*

[mystech-master]

Blazblue rewrites Part 1: The Age of Origin and beginning of the Looping World.

(put this on my Reddit may as well put it here)

As we all know, the Blazblue series is one of the most convoluted and over-complicated pieces of media ever. Mainly due to its quantum physics talk and very chuuni dialogue and a lack of good explanation for a lot of points. Naturally, one good thing about being a fan is that through the power of hindsight we can look at the entire series and basically fix what we think was messed up. Of course, we have this freedom since we are usually individual people, don't have a massive writing staff and marketing we need to appeal to, and pretty much the entire skeleton and pieces are there, they just need to be rearranged and/or be tweaked a bit.

I remember getting into Blazblue around the end of high school/beginning of college, almost 5 years ago. I thought the setting was neat and I am into anime action BS. Of course, the story was bonkers and made no sense until I started looking deeper but the main thing that has bugged me were the characters. There is just so much Bullshit that the characters do and brush off that just irritates me, especially when it comes to Ragna. This series has made me rethink the meaning of life, of showing kindness to people, or if "doing things because it's right" is a good enough excuse, how much should you desire your own happiness? All sorts of existential questions that Blazblue has made me think, not from the plot, but just from the BS character interactions.

If you check out my Ragna the Bloodedge tag, or have just been following me for a while, you will see/know how much I will defend this guy to the fucking grave because of all the bullshit that this guy is expected to take and deal with and it being seen as"inspiring" or "heroic" when it is really just sad to me. It isn't me liking the character, it is just a massive amount of pity and feeling sorry for him, to the point where I kind of have a massive bias towards him and end up making him an all-powerful unstable badass in most of my fic ideas with him. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I wanted to lay out my ideas for how I would make a Blazblue rewrite. If anyone wants to use these in their own fanfic, feel free. I don't give a shit about credit.

Starting with the timeline, we have the XBlaze series, Bloodedge Experience, and the core C-Series (ft.

the Phase Shift Novels, and Remix/Variable Heart Manga). In the actual story these are all separate “Possibilities”, or Timelines/Universes. That is dumb and I think that we can tweak things to make it all one linear timeline.

XBlaze takes place in the year 2050, 50 years before the Dark War is stated to begin, and 149-150 years before the main games start. This is plenty of time to make things different. We know from the backstory that Takamagahara, the god-supercomputer that mankind made, was not completed in this possibility due to Touya’s mother iirc. In my idea, all this does is delay the inevitable, Takamagahara will be made, just at a later date now. (edit) There is also the Mitsurugi agency, which was kind of behind the Wadatsumi incident in XBlaze's backstory. With their connections to the Mage's Guild, the Amanohokosaka Clan, and their desire to get the Azure, we could say that this is the agency that discovered the Susanoo, the Boundary, and did most of these experiments to the Prime Fields.

I do not know the exact year when Bloodedge Experience takes place, but I am going to estimate around 10-15+ years from XBlaze, putting it at 2060-2065+, since they do mention Mei as the head/leader of the Amanohokosaka Clan. I am not too sure what the branching-off point is here, Valkenhayn mentions Clavis having killed Naoto in the core C-Series Possibility so maybe it was during their initial meeting. But is Naoto surviving gonna change that much? The only other detail that would need addressing would be Raquel’s relationship with Rachel. According to the wiki bio “Raquel was created when a user of Soul Eater went havoc and killed hundreds upon thousands of people. Clavis Alucard stopped the user and killed them, but was forced to take the lives of 128,932 people in order to do so. When this happened, he held an Embryo. Three years later, the Embryo became Raquel and she was born. Maybe sometime later Raquel could end up being killed or something and another Embryo results in Rachel. I mean we never see or hear mention of a mother, or maybe it’s some reincarnation thing? IDK. We see how stern Clavis was with Raquel, so maybe seeing his first “daughter” die he ends up spoiling the next one rotten, leading to the kind of haughty holier-than-thou Rabbit we know today.

However, all of this needs to be put in perspective of the Origin and Terumi. I may mess up some of the finer details.

The plot of Blazblue started when Susanoo ditched his body, the Susanoo Unit, and then mankind discovered it underground. They excavated it, dug deeper, and found a Cauldron which led to the Boundary, within which they found the Master Unit, the God Computer that would allow them to control reality, and beyond that, they found the Azure, basically the primordial absolute force of the Blazblue Universe. However, the Master Unit can only respond to something anthropomorphic/humanoid and humans can’t survive the Boundary. So they made the Prime Field Devices, Androids meant to go into the Boundary. Pretty weirdly specific criteria that results in robot girls but I don’t see how I can mess with this.

One of them manages to reach the Master Unit and upon touching it she gains the Eyes of the Azure which gives it the power of the Azure and basically becomes not only sentient, but basically a god. The Humanity, freaked out about her new free will and the power she now has, tosses her back into the Boundary. Within the Boundary, the PFD, the Origin as we know her, sees her “sister” units all being tortured. Most likely to break any souls they have so the scientists don’t have to deal with their “free will” getting in the way of their plans. Maybe to bring in Terumi telling Noel that they became weapons, other groups heard of the guys making the PFDs and them getting god power and obviously would be trying to stop them/take this power for themselves, so they decided to make the PFDs into mindless robo-soldiers to fight them off. Origin gets mad and ends up making all of them sentient. Probably by Observing them as sentient, like she sees all of these things “like her” so obviously they must be sentient or at least have the potential for sentience. Kind of like Jotaro going “It’s a similar type of Stand '' to DIO and then getting Time Stop.

Anyways now mankind is fighting these robot girls who want revenge for being treated like tools, all humanity sees is all these in-human weapons killing them for no reason, just because destroying is what a weapon does, and with the Master Unit’s Phenomenon Intervention, they can just rewrite all of their failures into victories. Mankind sees the Origin and the Master Unit as basically the same thing, an evil machine god. His leads into why the Origin and Amaterasu can’t just be separated so Ragna doesn’t have to sacrifice himself to stop the time loops, the world sees The Origin and Amaterasu as one, there is no distinction. This is also apparently the time period when Clavis Alucard helped mankind make the Izayoi, with its Immortal Breaker and ability to resist Observation to fight against the Origin and the PFDs. Ironic that it eventually became known as the prototype for the Lux Sanctus: Murakumo, but I’ll talk about that later.

So what does mankind do? Make a Black Beast to destroy it. I mean we are told to believe that a Black Beast is the result of Azure Grimoire (or just a piece of the Azure) + Murakumo Unit = either a Black Beast if the fusion is imperfect, and a powerful Kusanagi God Slayer is done right. But tell me, why the hell would they build ANOTHER Prime Field Device to fight the PFDs? I will be getting into the exact nature of Black Beasts later. Mankind is apparently cool with the Black Beast destroying the world because so long as they can get the Azure and plug it into Takamagahara, which is basically a manmade Master Unit supercomputer, they can just reset time. But due to a bug or something, the Master Unit stopped this and when the world was destroyed she just made a new one based on her memories. This is the world the characters live in now. And since the last thing she remembers about the world is the Black Beast and obviously she doesn’t want the world to hate and try to kill her, the Black Beast enters the world with everyone having no context to its existence and no other enemy to fight, leading to the Black Beast going from a weapon of Mutually Assured Destruction, to the new Ultimate Evil Enemy of the World.

A few things we need to take note of here.

XBlaze and Bloodedge Experience would need to take place during the Age of Origin, between mankind discovering the Boundary but before the Prime Field War starts. I mean the two things needed for that part to start would be Prime Fields and Takamagahara, and while there is Es who is sort of a PFD, you could simply say that her model isn’t suited for full Boundary Exploration. I know I am really glossing over the Embryo stuff about her but I haven’t seen XBlaze stuff in a while and I would need to find a way to connect it with the Embryo in Centralfiction.

Apparently, there was some off-screen war in which Hihiirokane (the Soul Cutting Sword protected by Jubei’s clan, used by his brother Tomonori to fight Terumi, then put in Clavis’ grave) was used to fight some enemy, “Outside of logic”. I have no idea what this is and it feels like something that shouldn’t be glossed over.

Mankind made a Black Beast on their side to get the Azure and fight the Master Unit, which A. means that in a weird way the Black Beast was sort of on mankind’s side at first before the Origin retconned it into being the destroyer, and B. mankind would have needed to make a Murakumo Unit to fight the Murakumos, knowing that the Origin is making them sentient and turn on them, which kind of feels like a dumb move. But again, I will get to this later.

This will all lead into the Looping World. Now, this is weird because of the main thing which the loop revolves around, The Black Beast. It is either A. as Terumi says in CS, a Cauldron that went batshit (which is precedent by the short story That Which Is Inherited where Sector Seven tries to smelt a Nox but everything goes tits up and a Black Beast forms from the Cauldron (no souls or prime field required), or B. a Time Displaced Ragna and Nu. The Black Beast is a Self-Observing weapon. Observation in Blazblue basically means “deciding if/how something exists” by Observing itself, the Black Beast declares its existence in this time period, which means that no matter what time paradoxical BS you may try to pull, it will always appear (Kind of reminds me of the Time Medallions Clockwork gives team Phantom in Danny Phantom). But a less mind-mushing way to look at it could simply be that, no matter what, this will always happen. Like, say the Assassination of Kennedy is Observed as an event that must ALWAYS happen, then even if you find and stop the sniper. He is gonna still die. Maybe there is another sniper, maybe the sniper gets a good hit on you and manages to make another shot down the road, but anyway you slice it, Kenedy gets shot. That event is permanently locked in history and no matter what you do, this event is inevitable.

But suggestion A is weird because it could either mean that 1. He is talking about the first Black Beast from the Age of Origin, or 2. Since that part of the story probably wasn’t written yet and they are talking about this specific Beast, he is talking about the Dark War Black Beast, in which case there actually was a bit of time before the time loops started, or at least the very first loop, so then there was a bit of time before shit went sideways.

Maybe the Origin didn’t make a Black Beast war and it was all Terumi’s idea. The world would’ve continued as normal but since Terumi hated the Master Unit and mankind wanted power, they tried to make a Kusanagi but it fucked up and made a Black Beast, but without a publicly known Prime Field War to justify it, mankind doesn't see this as a necessary evil which will get the Azure and then reset the world better for them, it’s just a big evil monster.

Okay, that is my interpretation of the Age of Origin for my Blazblue rewrite idea. Not many changes since this is all pretty self-contained and not much needs expanding on. Just make sure to justify some actions and connect the three timelines. I probably missed out on a lot of finer details but I think I got the broad strokes of it. Feel free to correct me.

Next time I will cover the Dark War and hopefully go into explaining how I would make the Powerset make a bit more sense (Ars Magus, Grimoires, Nox Nyctores, the Azure Grimoire, and the Black Beast).

[oxtoxtoxto]

Supergirl and What it Means to be Marketed To

i think what bothers me the most about supergirl ending isn’t necessarily that it is, itself, ending. that’s a weird sentence, sure, but i’m not entirely attached to the show as other people in the fandom are. i might be 150 thousand words deep into a crossover with the show and being told “hey it’s not going to get another season after the next” was a pretty significant blow to my motivation (which i think i’ll get over) but overall i always found the show... mediocre? okay? perfectly adequate for what it was (with a few choice exceptions)? 

supergirl was never bad, but to a point the day-to-day episodic nature of it didn’t really catch me like it might’ve others. maybe i’m just full of myself but i felt like i could figure out what the moral quandry of each episode generally turned out to be, so long as it was one of those episodes in which a specific moral judgement was to be made. medusa focuses on how fucked up the luthor family is, and it wasn’t hard to predict that kara’s own family might be brought up as a contrast. episodes generally had a formula and that’s, fine? okay? sometimes it grated that i could understand what the plot was about fifteen minutes into an episode, but it was, like, fine. 

no, supergirl no longer having episodes isn’t what bothers me. the cast has their own reasons to call the curtains; melissa wants to raise her kid, which is a decision i think was made with a lot of thought and care, covid-19 has rendered shooting kinda risky in general, etc. 

it’s none of that, it’s the fact that supergirl felt like a show for me.

it’s hard to explain, i guess? but like, i go into comic book-related shows (and to an extent sci-fi in general) expecting myself, a trans woman, not to be even remotely the target audience. at all. like maybe they might make token efforts to be inclusive? but i realize from the very beginning that i’m not the people they really wrote the show for.

supergirl was different.

supergirl is probably the first and only comic book-focused series that i felt was made for me. it felt like a comic book show for women, and did its best to include different types of women from different walks of life. i might be leery about its weird fascination with rich women and stuff but... it felt like it was written for me.

which is a very alien experience as a trans woman. literally sweet fuck all is ever written for me. even shows which ostensibly include trans women generally include them for shock value, to be sexualized, or generally exploit their presence as not something that is normal, but something that is other, just to varying degrees of bigotry.

comic books especially are bad about this. they’re bad about marketing towards women in general (despite, you know, women being showed to buy comic books if they’re written by someone who has met a woman before) and as a result the setting of a comic book serial has always been vaguely out of reach for me. i could never fully get into them because, even before i figured out i was trans, it all felt very... male-focused. female characters were rarely the viewpoint of the story or the focus, and when they were it was a genuine dice-roll if you would get a realistic depiction out of it.

not only that, but female side characters always ran the risk of being bizarrely sexualized or twisted into knots over male characters, usually the main. 

point is, supergirl didn’t feel like that. supergirl felt like a show written by someone who was marketing it towards a female audience and not in the misogynistic way sitcoms and shit market towards women with shallow approximations of abusive relationships played off as ‘quirky’ or ‘broody’.

even throughout all of its incredibly... interesting choices it still never felt like the show had suddenly become a show for guys. it was always grounded in feeling like it was written for women, regardless of its ups or downs, and that was very, very nice.

and now it’s going to be gone. i’m not... really attached to supergirl as a construct, as mentioned before, it’s more that i’ve attached myself to the idea of supergirl. the idea of a mid-budget superhero show marketed for women and not being weirdly exclusive about it. not just that, but it wasn’t a show featuring teenagers--it wasn’t about young girls, or coming-of-age, it was about women who lived and existed in a world and who occasionally had to fight aliens. it was nice, it wasn’t perfect, sometimes i put the speed on 2x to skip through some of it, but... it was there. it was an option. i could, after slogging through another release of a comic i had high hopes for but had long since abandoned them, gone to it and went ‘yeah, sure, things might suck on that end, but at least i have this’.

which i don’t anymore. i get that batwoman and legends will still be around, i do, but... neither of them felt, like, as resonant with me as supergirl did. neither of them focused on marginalized groups of people like supergirl did (with it’s aliens -> immigrant allegory) and frankly none of them had a trans character.

as much as i might not be 100% in the brainia camp, i can at least appreciate that the one trans character wasn’t left out of the romantic weirdness of cw shows, the constant rotating door of interpersonal drama. it was nice to see a trans woman on screen and not feel like a shoe is going to drop and i’m going to have to endure The Transphobia Episode, where the main character - not the trans one - comes in and stops the bad things from happening so as to be elevated into being more morally good than anyone else.

i never had to worry about nia nal being written... well weirdly. you know what i mean, right? when a show gets an lgbt character or a poc and there’s just something very subtly wrong about how they’re written vs your experiences? i get that experiences aren’t universal and vary wildly depending on where you live (me being in canada has separated me from the severity of transphobia in places like the us and uk) but even then you can just kinda tell that whoever wrote the character doesn’t... really understand them, either.

i never had to worry about alex being turned into a predator, and however much i might fucking hate them reusing the old weird fixation with lesbians hating the idea of kids, it... still wasn’t that horrifying. people split up for reasons surrounding kids all the time, i did. i have experiences that mirror that, though we split up more amicably than others.

the point is, supergirl always felt very safe. it always felt marketed at me, it always felt like it was meant for me to watch, and that wasn’t something i’d ever experienced as someone who deeply loves comic books. it has always been out of the range of my expectations to find something that resonates with me despite its plot, despite everything.

and now it’s going to go away.

and i’m upset about that, i guess.

because i’m not... entirely sure there’ll be another. i desperately want there to be, but you have to understand my expectations are absolutely rock bottom. supergirl is not the change in a stale river to me, it’s not the turning tide, it’s the outlier. it came from cw for gods’ sake, noted bury-your-gays enthusiasts. i went into it expecting exactly the same thing i expect out of every superhero franchise, marvel, dc or otherwise.

and it completely blew my expectations away. it made me feel like it was for me in a way not even some of the better written-by-women comics have, despite everything, which is why i stuck around even through the weird shit around lena/kara, even through all the posturing and alex/maggie’s breakup and mon-el and season 5 as a concept and, and, and...

now it’s going to be going away, and i’m not entirely sure how to handle that.

i know i can rewatch it, i know it’ll always be there, even if netflix takes it off. i know.

but it means someone won’t be writing a woman-focused superhero show anymore, and i’ll really miss that.

[notyetneedcoffee]

Place In The Woods

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Bucky Barnes still doesn’t know who is, but he knows what he’s not. He’s not HYDRAs weapon anymore. He knows he’s not really the Soldier. He knows he needs to remember the man he was. He didn’t know that an encounter, no matter how brief, with a very special woman would start him down the right path.

Notes:  Takes place immediately after the river scene in CA:WS. Explicit content. Swearing. Smut. And just a touch of fluff. No breaks in story cannon.  

Warning 18+ angsty, fluff and smut to follow.

Few headlights past him on the rural road late in the night. Bucky Barnes just drove vaguely north in the stolen 2004 Ford F-150. He had no idea where he was or what may be nearby. Whenever a city seemed closed, he turned the truck in the other direction and stayed as far away from people as possible. Functioning on auto-pilot, he just put distance between himself and the scene.

After pulling Steve Rogers from the water, he found a hidden spot to observe. Part of him want to sit there with the stranger – the target and mission who knew more about him than he did. He felt a deep protective urge that nearly overwhelmed all his training, his common sense, even his fear. The conditioning in his head roared and railed, demanding he complete his mission.  

Instead, he took up a position and waited. Bucky fought to stay himself, to hold on to free will. He battled to remain present and aware of his surroundings. He focused on the trigger that broke his bonds, this man who he knew but couldn’t remember. Sooner than should have been possible, Steve stirred. He lifted his head wearily and looked around before touching something in the wrist of his uniform. He laid back with a groan.  

The sound of an engine had Bucky vacating the area, having no desire to be captured again. A beacon of some sort must be transmitting Steve’s location. He knew the rescuers could be using any number of scanning technologies and hiding would be useless. Sticking to shadows and alleys, avoiding traffic cameras and other people, Bucky finally found a locked back door to a pawn shop.

Once he snapped the lock in his left hand, the bolt not standing a chance against his prosthetic arm, he knew time was limited. Moving with expert precision, Bucky snagged a ruck sack, a leather jacket, a tactical knife, two 9mm handguns, extra magazines, boxes of shells, and a burner phone. In the office he found a petty cash envelope with $200 and hoodie that should fit. It would do.  

All the emergency responders were busy at the chaos caused by the downed helicarriers, and everyone else seemed to be too busy trying find out what happened to pay much attention to a shadow skulking through the streets. He ducked into a beat-up laundromat where the few patrons gathered around the little television in the office beyond the counter. One of the gawkers looked to be about his size. The third drier Bucky checked was full of jeans and jerseys that would fit.  

A rueful smile tugged at his lips when he noticed the open thermos, a copy Stephen King’s Dark Tower, and a set of keys, left forgotten amongst the excitement. The faded blue truck sat parked just around the corner. Bucky drove for nearly forty minutes before he found a remote place to pull over.  

The old building looked like it may have once been a roadside grocer, but now the windows were boarded up and brush was over taking the drive. He pulled around back, hiding the truck from the road. He lucked out, finding water still flowed from the side faucet. He could clean up and change clothes.

With every piece of equipment he stripped off, strong memories of what he’d done seemed to clarify in his mind. Arm guards dropped onto the tail gate. He pushed his right forearm into the throat of a French ambassador, as he stabbed him. Holster unbuckled. Standing in the shadows of a Swiss banker’s flat, waiting for her to step through the door before shooting. Chest guard joined the pile. Hearing the man say “Bucky?” for the first time.

Suddenly his legs failed, he found himself on the ground. His chest felt too tight. The air too thick to breathe. He looked at his hands and they were shaking. He curled them into fists, but they wouldn’t stop. He panted, wanted to scream, to howl. Fuck, it hurt. He felt raw - like he was coming undone. He curled over his knees, burying his head under his arms.

I know him.  

Flashes of memories assaulted his mind. The feeling of a strong hand on his shoulder. Blue eyes. A set of rickety stairs outside a building. A green and blue quilt that smelled like ivory soap and lavender. Potato soup, so hot that his belly felt warm. The smell of boot polish. Being back to back on a battle field. A red-headed nurse. Deep masculine laughter. Swing music. Coffee with milk and two sugars. Stevie laughing and calling him a jerk.

They were good memories. Bucky forced himself to breathe slower. They were all memories worth having. He wiped the tears and snot from his face.  

“Get your shit together.” He told himself. “You are Bucky Barnes. Not some soulless fucking asset. You’re not a tool. You’re a person. You just need time to figure it all out. Get your ass up, change clothes, blend in, don’t get caught.”

Bucky followed his own orders. Cleaning up and changing into street clothes, he figured he’d need food and another form of transportation soon. Time to disappear.

It was beginning to get dark when Mattie Williams and Jack, her dog, made it to the cabin. It was tucked along the barrier to a state park. She would usually leave her car in the park and hike in. There were no real roads leading to the cabin, just a trails and one old logging road. Getting in with a vehicle took work. It was perfect. No one knew where she went. No one could track her.

Jack’s ears perked up as he approached the cabin. His tail went stiff. Without question, Mattie slipped her backpack off and dropped it on the wet ground. She pulled the pistol from the holster beneath her jacket. Aiming in the direction of Jack’s eye line, she tapped his back and he edged forward. Coming out of the tree line as silently as possible and hoping the light rain covered what little noise they made, she followed her well-trained dog. The cabin door was open.

She could barely see the outline of a man standing in the one room cabin, looking in the cupboards. Jack’s eyes were locked on him. He was alone. Good.

Mattie slipped closer to the door, gun held ready. “I don’t want to shoot you if you’re just hungry.” The man froze. “But I better like your answer, because out here I can kill you and no one will be the wiser.”

He turned, fierce blue eyes glaring at her from beneath long brown hair. He took one step. The dog took two, teeth bared and growling. He looked to the dog, then back at Mattie - really seeing this time. His shoulders lowered and he brought his hands in front of him in surrender.

“Better.” Mattie did not change her stance. “Best start talking. What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t think anyone was here. The place looked cleared out for the season. I was just hoping for a spot to sleep that was dry.” He spoke softly. His right hand dropped, palm up. “I’ll just leave.”

Jack padded forward, sniffing his hand. He pushed his muzzle in more, stepping closer. His ears relaxed, and tail swayed. He licked the offered hand and looked back at Mattie with a full toothy dog smile.

“Hmm.” Mattie lowered her weapon. She clicked the safety back on, but did not put it away. “Well, you past the first test. Jack.” She called and the dog came around to sit at attention on her left.

“You just going to think I’m okay because your dog licked me?”  

“I trust Jack’s judgement in regards to people better than any human I know. He’s never done me wrong. Still doesn’t change the fact that you don’t look like a hiker. You’re not someone who’s living on the streets. You wouldn’t be out here.”

He stared hard at the floor. “I should go.”

Mattie heard the rain start to hit the tin roof with great ferocity. It was a forty-minute hike to the nearest park station and miles to the nearest road. “You hungry?”

He glanced up, question pulling his brows together. Then he nodded.

“Okay, there’s a woodpile around the side. Bring some in, and I’ll go get my pack.” Mattie walked out in the rain, wondering what the hell she was doing. Crouching beside her things, making sure everything was secure, Jack snuggled close. “You think he’s okay, huh, buddy? Yeah, I wonder if he’s a kindred spirit, too.” She scratched his ears. “But warn me if I’m being stupid just because he’s hot as hell, okay?”

Jack woofed and spun around. Mattie laughed.

When she stepped back inside, shaking the rain off her hair, the stranger was loading wood into the old cast iron stove. At least he knew what he was doing. She took a cleansing breath and slipped the gun back into its holster.  

“What do you say we start over?” She dropped the heavy pack on the table. “Hi. I’m Mattie. You look like you could use a hot meal.” She extended a hand.

He stood, wiping his gloved hands on his jeans. He shook her hand, still serious and reserved. “Bucky. I’m sorry to intrude.”

Bucky waited for her to show some sort of recognition. He wasn’t sure, but his face had to be on the news somewhere. He’d read that all of Hydra’s secrets had been dropped onto the internet. Surely, they were looking for him by now. It had been three weeks since the battle in DC. Instead, the attractive petite brunette smiled up at him with welcoming big brown eyes.  

“Pleasure to meet you.”

She had him get the fire going as she pulled packages of supplies out of her backpack. Jack circled the cabin, checking on them both. Bucky watched her open a storage area under a bench seat loaded with home canned goods, explaining why there were only dishes and pots in the cupboards. Before long a big cast iron pot of stew bubbled on the stove.

The rain created a steady clatter on the roof, but the cabin remained dry and warm. Still, Bucky stay bundled in his coat and gloves. Mattie offered him a cup of coffee, “Make yourself at home, Bucky. You’ve got to be sweating under all that.”

His left hand clenched. “I’m fine, ma’am.”

“Don’t do that, please.” She laughed lightly and slid into the seat across from him. “Just Mattie, okay?”

He nodded, sipping the coffee. Silence stretched out as she studied him closely. Bucky tried not squirm or rile against the close examination. He tried to remember he was a guest. “Thanks for let me stay.”

“Thank Jack.” She gave him a half smile. “So, what are you running from?”

Bucky went completely still.

Mattie casually got up and refilled their coffee mugs. “It’s just a guess, but you’ve got the same sort of tension I’ve seen in the mirror for the last six years. Alone. Alert. Off the grid. Running.”

He chewed his lip. “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“But someone’s after you?”

A single nod.

“Because of something you’ve done or something you know?” Mattie nervously picked at a chip in her mug.

“Both.”

“Are you armed?” Her brown eye locked with his blue.

“Yes.” He didn’t flinch.

“So, how is this going to work? Are we going to hold up here in an uneasy truce, or are we going to see if we can trust each other?” Mattie truly hoped they could trust each other. She’d been longing to have some to talk to, much less someone who looked like they could take care of whatever happened to be thrown at them.

Bucky desperately wanted to give in, wanted to take the opportunity to unburden himself of everything his mind had churned up in recent weeks. Fearing that once he started he would not stop, he held his tongue. Besides, she was kind and he did not want to bring her any more trouble. “I don’t know.”

“Alright,” Mattie pushed herself up. “Food should be hot.”

In silence, they dished up bowls of stew and ate slowly. The food was hot, tasty and filling. Mattie, gestured with her spoon for Bucky to help himself to more when he emptied his dish. Mattie rinsed her bowl and fixed Jack his food while Bucky ate his second helping.

She watched her dog munch away, and then just couldn’t stop herself. “I’ve had him for four years. Best decision I ever made. He’s smart, well trained, and great company. I can sleep if he’s with me. Before then, I never really slept. Every little noise would jerk me wide awake. Then I’d go until exhaustion got the better of me, and I slept too deep so the nightmares would come with a vengeance.”

Bucky held still, just listening. Afraid to break the spell, not wanting her to stop but not knowing what to say.

Mattie came over and picked up Bucky’s empty dish. Her hand rested on his shoulder and she squeezed. The sensation felt foreign and yet familiar. He closed his eyes against sudden and confusing emotions. “I promise I won’t do anything to bring you harm, and Jack will know if anything comes close before we will. Tonight, sleep hard and for as long as you want.”

Bucky didn’t trust his voice, nodding.  

After doing the dishes, Mattie pulled on her jacket and took Jack out. She must have stayed on the porch because only the dog was soaked. As Bucky watched her towel him off, he considered what he could share and still keep her safe.

“I may have nightmares.” He stood nearby, hands buried in his jeans pockets. He’d removed his jacket and gloves, leaving him in the long sleeve hoodie.

“It’s okay. Me, too.”

“I want to tell you, but knowing is dangerous.”

Mattie suddenly looked very tired, “That’s what got me into this mess to begin with. Who ever thought the saying ‘ignorance is bliss’ would be so damn true?”

“Don’t know about that. Not knowing is just as bad.” Bucky frowned, think about all the lost time, all the lost memories, the chair and painful wipes.

“Were you military?” Mattie unzipped her boots and crawled onto the armchair, feet tucked beneath her.

“Not for years.” Bucky shook his head, sitting across from her on the small old sofa. Jack jumped up and put his head in his lap.  

Mattie immediately noticed his left hand and made no secret of it. “Well, that’s some next level shit.”

He flexed his hand, “Um, yeah. I suppose.”

“Secret Service, CIA or something?”

“No.” His rubbed the dog’s head.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Bucky’s head snapped up in surprise. But he slowly shook his head.

“No? Hydra?”

“Stop.”

Mattie swallowed. Hard.  

Bucky waited. She would tell him to leave. He berated himself for allowing her to go on. This was a stupid idea.  

“Well, if you’re running from those bastards, we have more in common than you may think.” Mattie stood up, going to a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of whiskey. She took a swig straight from the bottle as she walked over. She held it out. He took belt off the bottle and gave it back.  

She folded herself back into her chair. Mattie studied the light playing on the amber liquid for a moment before taking another drink. “I stumbled on to the wrong thing at the wrong time. It cost me everything. Those cockroaches have long memories, and I’ve been hiding ever since.”

He nodded in agreement, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her sight drifted off into the distant past.  

“I was nurse once, working on humanitarian program in South America. We treating kids with birth defects – everything from cleft palates to heart valve repairs. Something happened, a battle of some sort, and our little hospital was overrun by these people. Hydra, I later found out. They had their own people to take care of and apparently the little ones were taking up needed resources.” Mattie took a large swallow of the whiskey. “Some of us were necessary, some were not. The patients, the babies and their families, were just in the way. They ordered everyone . . . neutralized.”  

Mattie fought to push back the memories of the killings. The Hydra doctors ordering some of the children to be taken for experiments and the screams for the days that followed crept into her consciousness.

“But you escaped.” Bucky felt a little sick. Of all the assassinations he remembered, he thankfully did not recall any children.

“Barely, with one of the hospital workers who sometimes smuggled for a cartel. I really don’t know how I survived that first couple weeks. I learned really quickly how many eyes there are in any given city. I started patching up wounded gang members that couldn’t go to an ER. My skills came in handy. I started trading medical services for instruction on anything that would help me survive.”

She took a final swig off the bottle of whiskey before standing and offering it to Bucky. “That’s my story, glossing over some of the details, of course. It’s been sixteen months without them catching my scent.”

He took the bottle and drank down a hearty mouthful, even though the alcohol did nothing to his serum enhanced system. The burn reminded him he was still human. Bucky watched Jack get up to stretch as Mattie put the whiskey away.

“What do know about Hydra?” He asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“A lot more now than I did a month ago.” She admitted. “They are a lot more powerful than I ever imagined. I spent a few unbelievable days digging through the data dumped online. Made my problems seem so unbelievably small.”

“Did you,” he took a deep breath, “see anything about me?”

“I definitely don’t remember reading about anyone with the name Bucky, and I don’t think I saw any pictures of you.” Mattie frowned, an ugly realization settling in. “You’re not just running from them. You worked for them.”

“Not willingly.” He ground out through clenched teeth.

“What did they have on you?” She asked, carefully moving to sit on the opposite side of the sofa from him.

“It wasn’t like that.” He hung his head.

“They fucked with your mind. Oh god.” Mattie breathed. She’d read about the technology after the files were dumped. She’d dug straight into the medical experiments Hydra performed. A morbid need filled her to understand the depravity of it, even though she held no power to stop it yet. “Didn’t they?”

His hands clenched together. Eyes locked shut. Conflict raged in his mind. He wanted to run out the door and get as far away as possible. He wanted to crumble onto the floor and tell her everything. He needed to go. This was dangerous.

Then Bucky felt her small hand rest on the back of his head. He released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Mattie barely heard him whisper, “They destroyed it.”

Bucky honestly could not remember last time anyone touched him with kindness, but he found himself leaning into the shoulder of this kind-hearted woman, who had every reason to not trust him. Yet, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and fingers caressed his hair as if comforting a child. He breathed in the clean, distinctly feminine scent of her. He committed every sensation to memory.

Mattie held him, heart breaking for this stranger. She could tell this simple comfort, this simple touch, surprised him. How long had it been? He leaned against her, but did not cling or grope. Mattie found herself squeezing him tighter.

“I’m so sorry. Do you want to tell me what happened?” She asked, stroking his hair.

He exhaled, warm breath tickling across her neck. He did not want to move, so he remained in her embrace. Although he knew he should not say anything, he wanted to. “They wiped my mind. They stole my memories. They made me their asset. They made my compliant.”

Mattie knew she did not fully comprehend the extensiveness of his confession, but she’d read enough to know it had to be a hundred times worse than her imagination could fathom. Her throat tightened. “But you got away.”  

She felt him nodded. Hesitantly, his arms encircled her waist. They remained that way for a while, just absorbing the strength from each other’s presence. Bucky chuckled when a wet nose nudged between them. Mattie’s light laughter joined him and she scratched Jack’s ears. “Someone wants in on the group hug.”

Bucky sat back. “I don’t know why you are being so nice to me, but I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something.” Mattie joked with a wink as she retreated to throw another piece of wood into the stove.

The moment gone, they settled in for the night. Bucky insisted upon sleeping on the little sofa, although his legs hung over the edge. Jack jumped up on the bed with Mattie, curling against her back. The steady clatter of rain and warm crackling of the fire surrounded them as they both dozes off.

Jack woke Mattie with a wet nose. She jerked, instantly aware. Jack whined and padded to Bucky’s side. She approached slowly, watching his face contort in pain. Mattie fought the urge to smooth the furrow from his brow, but knew that he would likely lash out.

“Bucky.” She spoke kindly but loud enough to hopefully wake him. “Bucky, wake up.”

He began to curl up, defensively, growling and grunting in his sleep as if fighting against something holding him down. The more she spoke his name, the more he thrashed. His left arm swung out, metal breaking through the wood of the coffee table. Jack barked.

Bucky sat up straight, eyes wild.  

“Bucky?”  

“I…” he looked around wildly before knotting his hands in his hair, burying his head into his knees. “Sorry. Nightmare. Sorry, I woke you.”

“It’s okay.” She sat closer to him touching his head, feeling how tightly his fingers were clenched in his hair. “They’re nightmares. Memories. Not real. You’re here and you’re safe. For now, tonight, you’re safe.”

Bucky released the hold on his head, lolling toward her lap. The feel of her warm hands on the back of his neck and her fingers in his hair practically drew a whimper from his chest. He pushed up, elbows on knees, and tried to lift his head. He pushed away the grip of the nightmare.

She stood, taking him by the arm. “Come on.”  

“What?”

Mattie just pulled him along with her to the bed. He shook his head, but still followed. “I don’t want to hurt you. Look what I did to the table.”  

She ignored his words, and just crawled on the bed and held up the quilt for him. Bucky sighed and lay down beside her. When she rolled over, he spooned up behind her on instinct. Mattie yawned and buried herself deeper into the covers. Her fingertips stroked the skin of his forearm.  

Bucky closed his eyes, allowing the scent and sensation to lull him back toward sleep. A part of his mind still spun, alert and fearful. He now felt different, particularly holding this woman in his arms. It was an old feeling, the urge to be a protector instead of a creature of destructions. Feelings that still felt confusing and long forgotten stirred in his chest.

He felt Jack jump up on the bed and settle atop the covers behind his knees. Two weeks ago, the thought of being sandwiched like this would be terrifying. However, this felt warm and safe. Bucky breathed in the scent of her hair. He felt the rise and fall of her chest. Her bare toes found the exposed flesh of his ankle between his sweats and sock.  

Waves of emotions, long forgotten, rolled over him. He battled to keep his breath steady, trying desperately not to panic from it all. Bucky wanted to enjoy this. He needed it. Still he felt the urge to run from the feelings, from the pain the memories, from the ache behind his eye. Bucky felt guilt for bringing trouble to this wonderful woman, but he did not want to let her go. He feared hurt her, and still wanted to crush her to him with all his strength. Part of him wanted to weep.

Mattie sighed, she rolled over in his arms. She did not look up at him, but wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his neck. “It’s okay.”

Bucky squeezed her tighter, feeling her soft hair against his face. He couldn’t breathe.

Her hands rubbed his back and shoulders. He froze. She did not stop at the raise scars where flesh met metal, she continued and murmured words of comfort. Bucky’s fingers knotted in her night shirt. Mattie felt his muscles begin to let go, allowing him to breathe. She didn’t need to see or hear the hot tears that slipped into her hair.

Sleep must have overtaken him, because Bucky awoke to the feeling of Mattie jerk in his arms. He looked down, through the dark seeing her face crumple in her sleep. A quiet whine and a shift at the foot of the bed brought his attention to Jack. “It’s okay, boy.”

He swept the hair away from her face. “Mattie.” He spoke low and calm. “Doll, wake up.”

It took a few more tries, but her eyes flew open. She didn’t thrash out or make a noise. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She stared at Bucky for a moment before touching the hand that held her face. “I’m alight.”

She sat up and looked at her watch on the bedside table. It was still the middle of the night. Bucky watched as she got up and put another piece of wood in the stove. Tears continued to flow down her face. She made no move to wipe them away, made no apologies.

When Mattie climbed back under the quilts with him, Bucky wiped away some of the wetness with his thumb. He surprised himself by asking. “Do you want to talk about it?”

They lay there in the dark, faces close and legs wound together, quietly sharing their nightmares. Neither backed away from the other’s terror or judged the other’s fear. Bucky found he could talk about his nightmares. They weren’t real even if they were born from memories. He could discuss the memories that came back to him in dreams. The conflict of his conditioning didn’t plague him as they spoke into the night.  

Mattie awoke slowly, aware of the solid warm body curled around her. Soft lips and the tip of a wet tongue languidly rubbed along the back of her neck, behind her ear. A large hand supported one of her breasts, under her shirt. Clearer thought formed in her head, and she could feel the very hard erection pressed into the curve of her ass.

She could only marvel at what a wonderful way it was to wake up. Her heart rate picked up. She laid there, lazily, unsure if Bucky was really awake. Mattie pushed the logical part of her brain aside. This man may be dangerous, he may be broken, but he was strong and he understood something of what she’d been through. He made her feel safe. He felt amazing.

Bucky froze.  

Mattie slipped her hand up to cover his where he held her breast. She nuzzled her neck closer to him. Bucky’s mouth kissed her neck again and she hummed in delight. He moved his hand to rest on her waist. The puffs of his breath in her hair tickled her ear.

“Doll, I...” He didn’t know what to say. Should he apologize? He wasn’t sorry. Should he say he wanted her? That he wasn’t sure what was happening?

Mattie rolled over and took his face in her hands. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

She smoothed back his hair, smiling. “Thank you for that, but what do you want?”

Unable to resist, Bucky covered her mouth with his own. It was a soft, chaste kiss that carried more emotion than heat. He touched his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. His lips brushed the corner of her mouth again. “I don’t want to take advantage.”

Mattie actually giggled. He smiled at the sound, still keeping his eyes closed. He felt her kiss along his jaw and it made him ache. “Bucky, do you want me?”

He still her hands with his own. When their eyes locked, both were blown wide with passion. “I do, Mattie. I do, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me how?” She asked. “I’m not expecting anything-”

“No, Doll.” Bucky kissed her fingers. “I’m afraid of physically hurting you.” Confusion crossed her beautiful features. He sighed. “I haven’t - I don’t remember the last time – I was with a woman. I have a hard time keeping my mind my own. I’m worried that I could lose – that I wouldn’t be able to stop – that I couldn’t control myself and get – rough.”

Mattie slowly nodded her head, biting her lip. “After what you told me last night, I can understand. But Bucky, while you were sleeping just now you weren’t violent. If anything, you made me feel safe. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but I’m not afraid of being hurt by you.”

Bucky studied her, taking in the chocolate of her eyes and curve of her face. He believed her. The Universe should be beating him against jagged rocks for the things he’d done, and yet somehow, he’d found this calm harbor. Somehow, this amazing woman appeared like a balm against his weary soul.  

His lips found hers again, gentle and searching. As their kiss deepened, he swallowed the whimper escaping her throat. She needed this just as much. Bucky kissed and nipped his way from her jaw to just beneath her ear. Her hands raked up his side, pushing his shirt higher. He involuntarily flinched. She stopped, but he nuzzled closer.

“Don’t stop.”  

Mattie pulled at his clothes, tossing the shirt to the floor. She leaned over him, admiring the thick muscles and feeling his warm skin. She felt a pang in her heart for all the scars. He let out a shaky breath as her mouth trailed all the evidence of his pain as if she could kiss it away. When her tongue laved over his stomach, his hips involuntarily rocked forward.

“Fuck, Doll...”  

Mattie crawled up his body, mouth wet and hair mussed. Bucky kissed her thoroughly, a gnashing of tongues and teeth, and she met his vigor with her own. Her leg swung over his hips and he moaned into her mouth when she sat back against him. He could feel her heat through their sweats as she rubbed against his length.  

She sat up and tossed her shirt aside. Bucky’s mind went blank for a moment as he took in this amazing woman. His hand moved of their own accord, desperate to feel the soft flesh, the firm weight, of her breasts. Her hair fell down her back in a mass. A flush tinted her delicate skin. Most alluringly, a sultry wicked grin danced across her lips.

“You are gorgeous.” Her nails trailed down his chest and she bit her lip.

Bucky sat up, wrapping her in his arms. “No. But you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  His mouth found hers again as he rolled them over. He took one hardened nipple into his mouth, fingers toying with other. Her nails scraped along his scalp and tugged at his hair. He wanted to devour her, touching and tasting everywhere.

As he reached the waist of her sweats, she lifted her hips in an eager attempt to be rid of the barrier. His mouth nipped at her hip, licked across to her inner thigh. Mattie’s legs opened wider of their own accord. The scent of her filled his head and he groaned. His fingers slipped through her folds, already slippery and wet for him.

He looked up, locking eyes with her as he leaned forward and lapped at her dripping cunt. The intensity in his blue eye while his face buried between her legs was the hottest thing she’d seen. It ripped the breath from her. “Holy shit.”  

His tongue stiffened and flicked at clit. He sucked it in his hot mouth. First one, then two, strong fingers entered her. His strokes firm, curling as he felt her moan on the perfect spot. He hummed and groaned the most divine sounds, like he was in heaven. If this was out of practice for the man, Mattie was sure that Bucky at the top of his game would kill her.

The tension wound tighter and Mattie breathed deeper, not fighting it, not forcing it. She watched Bucky, listened to him. Drowned in the sensations. A warm flush filled her. “Oh god, Bucky, fuck. I’m about to. . .”

The pressure and the pace of his fingers increase and he sucked harder with a growl. Mattie came apart, flooding over his hand, being licked up by his tongue, shaking under his touch.  

Her hand wound into his hair as he feathered kisses over her belly, a giant smile on his sex soaked face. “Come up here and kiss me.” She demanded. Their mouths clashed together, heated and desperate. Mattie’s hand reach inside his sweats, wrapping as best she could around his thick cock. He growled into her mouth and she giggled.

“Get naked.”

Bucky flopped onto his back, kicking off his sweats. Before he could move, Mattie settled herself between his knees. She massaged her hands into his strong thick thighs. Kissing along his hips, feeling her way closer. She pushed her hair over one shoulder and took his cock by the base. He watched her, open mouthed, as she ran her tongue from base to tip before taking him in her mouth completely.

“Fuck.” He groaned out a slow breath.

She began to fuck him thoroughly with her mouth, toying with her tongue and hollowing her cheeks, he knotted his fists into the sheets. Bucky desperately wanted to take her by the hair, wanted more, want to slam his dick to the back of throat and come. “Doll, you’ve got to stop.” He pulled at her “Or this will be over before it begins.”    

Mattie nipped at nipple before moving to his jaw. “But I enjoy it so much.” She whined.

“I can tell.” He massaged her ass, feeling her rub against him. “Tell me you’ve got some sort of protection, ‘cause I really want to fuck you.”

She looked him in the eye, suddenly serious. “Did you mean it when you said this stuff they gave you, the serum, keeps you from getting sick or contracting or carrying anything?”  

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m clean and I’m on the pill.”

His brows drew together. She wondered if it was more quizzical than concern.  

“I can’t get pregnant right now.”

A slow smile spread over his face, hips rocking. “Really?”

Mattie ran her tongue along his lower lip before kissing him. “Really.” She rolled her hip so just the tip of him pressed into her wet entrance.

“Sweet fucking Jesus.” Bucky’s right hand went into her hair, holding her head close his. His left took her by the hip and guided her down as she impaled herself upon him. She panted, moving slowly, experiencing the fullness, adjusting to him and relishing in the feeling.  

He kissed her again as she rocked, moving more. Blood rushed through her veins. Breathing each other in, kisses wet and messy, his nose rubbed again her smooth skin. She bit his lip, pulled at his hair. His metal fingers dug into her hip, her ass.  

It felt amazing, but not enough. Bucky flipped her over hiking her knees up over his forearms and sank himself deep into her, hard and fast. Mattie cried out. “God!” He froze. Did he hurt her? Her hands clenched his shoulders, nails scraped up into his hair. “Fuck me! Hard, Bucky, fuck me hard.”  

He slammed into her, causing the bed to creak. Mattie’s breath rushed from her body. Her body pliant and alive under his. She felt like the waves of near pain and exquisite pleasure would drown her. All she could do was hold on for the ride.  

Bucky would not last, it had been so long. He wanted this so bad. He released her legs, and brought his own knees up, angling her hips. Mattie began to make delightful mewing noises. He nipped at her inner wrist, tasting her pulse. His right hand kneaded her tit, pulling at the over sensitive nipple.  He was fighting to hold it together. She began to quiver in his arms. Their eyes were locked until her eyes rolled back as her body clamped around his cock, flooding over him, hot and wet. He plummeted over the edge in violent releasing, leaving him breathless.

They lay there, wrapped around each other, smelling of sweat and sex. Neither wanting to move. Neither wanting the rain to stop or the moment to end.

Bucky’s eyes drifted open at the sound of water running. Maggie stood at the sink filling a large kettle, wearing nothing but an oversized red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The back of her hair was a mass of tangles.  The rain had stopped. Jack lifted his head up from the foot of the bed to look at him.  

“Hey Doll,” he muttered, voice thick with sleep. “Whatcha doing?”

“No hot water here. I’m just heating some up for a bath.” She cocked an eyebrow as she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Unless you want to take a cold shower?”

He gave her a surprisingly easy chuckle. “I’m used to those. How about we just get dirty again?”

Mattie laughed, continuing her task. Muted sunlight filtered into the cabin, an early morning sun fighting to break through thick clouds. A kettle whistled on the stove and she set it aside to add the other. He watched her move about with easy. She had great legs.  

“Come ‘ere.”

She crawled under the warmth of the quilt, giggling when he rolled her over and pinned her down with his body. His mouth covered her smile with a lazy kiss. The tip of her tongue traced the curve of his full lips, drawing rumble from his chest.  

“How the hell did I manage to get so lucky?” Bucky nipped at her ear. “This time yesterday, I thought for sure I was in for a bum rap.”

Mattie giggled. His body felt amazing, solid and hot. His scruff rubbed along her neck as those sinful lips kissed under her ear. Bucky laughed low against her skin as Jack belly crawled over the blankets and on top of the two of them.  

The dog whined.  

“He’s either jealous or needs to go out.” Mattie giggled.

Bucky adored the sound. Jack barked. “Out it is.”

He rolled off of her and she got up to open the cabin door.  He watched her as she stood in the open door. Dark worries, images of this kind woman being shot down from the woods for nothing more than harboring him filled his mind. Standing there, in the morning light looking beautiful and relaxed, she would make such an easy target.  

Leaving would be the right thing to do.  

“What it is?” Mattie asked, concern etched over her features.  

He’d been too lost in thought to notice her stare. Bucky shook his head, frowning hard. He should get dressed and go. Still, moving seemed impossible.  

She shut the door when Jack came back in. She moved the second kettle off the direct heat on her way to sit beside him. Mattie touched his bearded cheek, ran her fingers through his hair.  “What just happened?” Bucky locked his eyes closed, shaking his head. He couldn’t admit to the images of her bloody form in the doorway. “Please. Something went through your mind. Did you remember something?”

“No.” He held her palm to his face, eyes still closed. “I just. This is dangerous. Bad things could happen.”  

“Oh, Bucky.” She pressed her lips to the furrow in his brow. “Yes. This is dangerous.”

His eye opened to get lost in her sincere gaze.  

“Dangerous. But everything about my life is. This,” She kissed him softly, “is a gift. I’m not fool enough to think this could be ‘ever after’ and I know that the longer we’re in each other’s company the better chance the people after you and the people after me may stumble over each other. But for now, for just a few quiet days, let’s enjoy the time we have. Please.”

Bucky tasted her lips. Mattie kissed him back, thoroughly. It was slow, wet, lazy. He pulled her down beside him, hands touching her reverently. She responded to each caress with little moans and mews.  He lifted the flannel shirt off her. She wrapped herself around him, urging him further, pushing the dark thoughts away.

He went slow, taking his time, drinking her in, savoring every sensation.  Mattie moaned deep, knotting her hands in his hair, when he slipped into her. She was wet and wanting, loving the feel of his weight, the touch of their bodies. They moved together, tasting, touching, staring into each other eyes.

The orgasm caused Mattie’s very core to quiver, every intense sensation washing over her at once. She buried her face into his neck and felt tears in her eyes. Bucky held her tight, wanting to drown in her. His own release followed shortly after. He kissed the sweat off her brow, but did not want to move out of her.  

“Don’t move.” Mattie pleaded. “Not yet.”

“I’m too heavy.” He smiled against her skin.

“You’re perfect.” She breathed.

As their bodies cooled, Bucky rolled off of her, but still held her close. When she began to pull away, he took her hand. “I’m going to set up the bath.” She explained.

Bucky heard water running in the bathroom. Then watched her fetch the kettles. Mattie moved about, comfortable in her nudity. She drew him from the bed and into a deep, wide copper tub. The water was hot, but not scalding and he knew it would cool soon.

“You’re going to join me, aren’t you?” He sat up and made space between his legs. “There’s room.”

“Yes.”

She took his hand and slipped down in front of him. Bucky lathered up a wash cloth and gently cleaned her body. “I need to move on soon.”

“I know.” Mattie laid back against his chest. “Stay just another day or two. I can go into town, get you supplies. It wouldn’t take long.”

Bucky considered for a while, stroking her skin with his fingertips. Mattie took his left hand into hers, carefully examining the metal digits that brought her such pleasure.  

“I will go tomorrow night.” Bucky said at last. “It’s not safe for me – or you – if I stay in one place any longer.”

“Then today I’ll head into town. What will you need?”

“You don’t have to -”  

“I know I don’t have to,” Mattie flicked water in his face with a giggle. “But I’m going to.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her. “Fine. Food. A new burner phone, too.”

When Mattie and Jack walked into the woods, Bucky grabbed an energy bar and a bottle of water. He wondered a ways from the tree line until he came to the hiding spot of the cross over motorcycle he’d stolen. He checked his supplies. Nothing had been disturbed. Bucky climbed up into the branches of a nearby tree, finding a location with a good view of the cabin and the direction Mattie disappeared. Resting a gun in his lap, Bucky waited.

Mattie made it to her car much quicker without the rain. The drive into the nearest town didn’t take long. Jack stuck his nose out the window along the way, enjoying the wind. She swung into a super store on the outskirts of town to do some shopping.  

After, she picked up a coffee and surfed the internet on the burner phone she’d picked up for herself.  

Googling ‘Bucky Barnes’, the very first entry was from the Smithsonian. Mattie read, hand over her mouth. Page after page, told of the WWII heroes and their fight. She read about the only member of the Howling Commandos to die, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. She stared at the black and white photos, knowing just how blue those eyes were in real life.  

“Well, Jack.” She scratched her dog’s head. “Now all the old slang makes sense.”

On the hike back, she wondered how much he knew about himself. Bucky said he’d lost his memory. Hydra scrambled his mind. What else did they do to him? How was he still alive, and she smiled to herself, very virile. One thing Mattie was certain of, he was important. For heaven’s sake, the site called him ‘Captain America’s oldest and dearest friend’. Good side or bad, people were going to be desperate to find him.  

She made it back to the cabin to find it empty. Damn. Mattie dropped her pack on the table.

Footsteps, heavier than necessary, came onto the porch. Jack stood at the door with his tail wagging.  

Mattie rushed to the door and threw it open. “For a second there I thought you skipped out on me.”

Bucky ran his hand through his hair. “No, Doll. Just looking around.” She smiled brightly and grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him in for a kiss. “Nice to see you too.”  

“I’ve gotten you something, and um, we need to talk.” She led him inside.  

Mattie handed him a beer, still cool from her pack. He cracked it open and thanked her. “Okay, here’s travel food and that phone you wanted. I also got you this.”  

Bucky took the medical supply box with a questioning look.  

“It’s a sterile dressing for people healing from burns. It only goes to the elbow, but the it will cover your hand and forearm. A bandage is far less noticeable than the metal. It won’t be as conspicuous as a single glove either.” Mattie opened her own beer and sat down beside him.  

“Great idea. Thank you.” Bucky took the dressing out, examining the flesh tone nylon.  

“Bucky, do you remember the war?” She asked quietly.

Disjointed flashes of bombed out buildings and heavy wet wool uniforms and heavy rifles filled his mind. “I don’t know.”

“What about Captain America? Do you remember Captain Rogers?”

Bucky’s hand shot out grabbing her wrist painfully. He growled. “What?”  

“Honey, ease up you’re hurting me.” Mattie said her voice flat, body still. His eyes widen and he snatched his hand away. “I did a little digging on the internet. Not much, but you two go way back. They two of you have a real history. He was your best friend once – ages ago, before World War II. Bucky, how is that possible?”

She watched a dozen emotions dance through his eyes. Finally, he looked at her sad and lost. “I don’t know what I remember. It’s all jumbled. I just see moments, flashes of people or things or places. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“He’s an Avenger now. He knows Tony Stark. If there’s anyone who get you the best help possible -”

“No.” Bucky clinched his fists. “I would be turned over to the authorities. I’ve done things. People will want me dead. Or worse, I’ll be their lab rat.”

Mattie’s heart broke at the pain and self-loathing in his voice. Her fingers ran through his hair. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from touching him. But he leaned into it, quietly accepting the comfort. “Okay. You figure it out your way. You should know, in the American History Museum in DC, there’s an exhibit. It’s all about your heroic time in the war."

Bucky’s eyes snapped up, mind reeling. He was in a museum, as a hero? He laced his fingers with hers, resting his forehead to their entwined hands. He wanted to remember.  

“I got you something else.” She pulled out a brown leather journal with a pen in the clasp. “If your memories are coming in bits and pieces, then maybe writing them all down will help you put it all together. I know I wrote in journals to keep my head on straight when I was first running. Got it all out, you know. I couldn’t talk to anybody about it, so it went on the page.”

“I don’t know that I’m much of writer.” Bucky picked up the journal and flipped through the blank pages.

“No one will see it but you. Who cares? Hell, just make lists if that helps.” She smiled.

“Why?”

“Why journal?”

“No, why are you doing all of this? I don’t deserve it.”  

Mattie giggled. “Well, when else will I ever get the chance to have a bonafide national hero in my bed?”  

Bucky rolled his eyes, but grabbed her and pulled her on his lap. He nipped at her neck. “I’m no hero.”

“Super-hot hundred-year-old dude, then?” She giggled harder.

“Doll.” He tweaked her nipple through her bra. “You calling me old?”

“I’m just saying-”

Bucky stalled her words with his tongue. She moaned into him. His hand slipped up under her shirt. Mattie trailed her mouth along his sharp jaw to nip at his ear, earning a growl from his chest. He stood, depositing her on the table. He pulled his shirt over his head as Mattie began toss away her clothes.  

Helping her pull her jeans off, Bucky dropped to his knees before her. He lifted her leg over his shoulder before spreading her legs wide, unabashedly marveling at her glistening sex.  His cool metal fingers tracing through her folds, as he nipped his way along her inner thigh. Mattie leaned back on both hands as his mouth covered her.

Bucky’s licks and sucks became more fevered. Her moans failing to drown out his wet slurping and satisfied growls. His fingers slid in and out of her quivering cunt, pressing deliciously on sensitive flesh. Mattie’s hand wound in his hair tight. “Oh, holy shit!”

He suddenly stood, jeans down, and rammed himself deep in one trust. Mattie cried out. Bucky dug his fingers into her hips, pounding into her hard. “Yes, Doll.” Bucky growled. “Squirt all over my cock.”  

She did, coming hard and soaking him. He didn’t wait for her to recover, but flipped her over belly down on the table, ramming into her again. His left hand pressed into her lower back, his right took a handful of her hair. Mattied cried out. “Fuck yes!”

Spurred on, Bucky pulled her head back, biting down on the back of her neck. Mattie’s second orgasm hit her completely by surprise. Her legs shook and her body spasmed. Bucky held her up, unrelenting. “Shit, Baby. So fucking good.” Words tumbled from his mouth.  

He lifted her leg onto the chair, letting him go deeper, crashing against her wall. The sounds coming from her whipped him into a fever. So hot. Yes, she moaned, always letting him go on, lost in the heady smell of sex and nerves on fire.  

Bucky almost lost it when she looked over her shoulder, eyes heavy, panting and giving him the sexiest, wicked smile he’d ever seem. She shook, her mouth fell open. He felt her clench his cock. “Oh god! Fuck yes!” She whined. Gripped hard, he fucked her rough, losing his rhythm as he came just after her.

Mattie lay face down on the table, shaking, panting for a moment. He turned her over to hold in his arms with gentle hands, but her knees buckled. He held her flush against him. She giggled, love drunk.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Bucky nuzzled his nose into her hair.

“Way better than okay. Amazing. Gimme a minute, though, I can’t seem to find my legs.” She kissed his chest.  

He laughed, an easy and honest chuckle, erupting from his chest. “I’ve got you.” Bucky swept her up in his arms and kicked the jeans off his ankle. He carried over to the bed, lying her down and crawling up beside her. He rained gentle kisses across her neck and chest, over her breast and to her belly.

She felt boneless, completely relaxed.  

“Mattie,” Bucky whispered, somewhat strangled.

She lifted her head to look down where he ghosted his fingers over her hips. A deep frown marred his beautiful face.  

“Doll, why didn’t you say I was hurting you? These bruises are already showing.”

“Oh, Bucky.” She pulled at him until his face was close to hers. “I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. Not really. Besides, if you would have stopped – I may have had to hurt you.” She smiled brightly.

“But,”  

She cut off his words with a kiss. “No. No ‘buts’. That was amazing and intense and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re so fucking good. I feel incredible.”

Bucky kissed her back, gently and full of emotion. He’d let himself be lost to the moment, to lose control. He never wished to hurt her. But here she was thanking him for it. “You are one extraordinary woman.” A lopsided grin bloomed on his face. “You’re going to be sore.”

“And every time I feel it, it will make think about you fucking me senseless.” She smiled back.

He threw his head back and laughed. Mattie curled up to him, entwining legs and getting lost in his scent. She knew it wouldn’t last, but for right now she intended to lap up everything Bucky had to offer. Sleep tugged at her, and she fought to stay awake.  

Bucky could feel her beginning to drift off and fight it. He kissed her, slow and lazy. “Don’t worry, Doll. I’ll stick around until tomorrow. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Good.” She mumbled, falling to sleep almost immediately.

He lay there for a while, fingers tracing slow circles on her back. He would use the journals. He would document what he remembered. He would write down the bits and pieces of his old life. He would list what he knew of his time as the Soldier and remind himself that it was not him. He was no longer in their control. He was Bucky Barnes. First, though, he would write about the woman who reminded him what it felt like to be a man again.  

Bucky thanked whatever power was out there that he stumbled across this little place in the woods.

[nomimits7]

Undecided Chapter 8...

Title: Undecided Pt 8

Genre: Investigation, murder, masked behaviour.

Warnings: murder, psychotic behaviour, might be triggering. This chapter touches on the subject of having more than one personality. I do not know anything on this subject, so I interpreted it as I saw fit for the story. DON’T COME AT ME YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Members: detective OT7 x Forensic scientist Reader

Note: Phrases are just add-ins to help with the story line… If they confuse you, feel free to ask!

Summary: Moving overseas for a once in a lifetime job offer was one of the scariest things Y/N ever did. That was until she got stuck in a twisted investigation of random murders, all with one link but no leads. Closing in on the culprit(s) Y/N doesn’t realize the danger she’s getting into. With no family or friends, can Y/N dare to trust those seven closest to her with her life?

A/N; this chapter is like 100 maybe 150 word shorter… there are reasons. Hope you enjoy!! We’re nearing the end and I can’t wait to share it with you!!!

Chapter 7

•♡•

Obsession: An idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person’s mind

•♡•

Besides, the mind was something Namjoon was an expert in using.

Namjoon waited patiently for your arrival. He had no idea what to expect to see when the doors open, but he did not expect to see you huddled up in one of the corners. Your entire body was shaking as broken sobs and whimpers left your mouth.

You looked so fragile, so broken. A foreign girl in a foreign country all alone and scared shitless. Eyes shut tightly as your arms wrapped around your shaking body. Namjoon knew exactly what was happening, but the sight of you curled up, fragile and helpless made him swallow hard. Torn between being aroused and being concerned Namjoon slowly took in your small form again. But to his surprise, his arousal faded just as quickly as it flared up. This only confirmed that he disliked seeing you like this. He wanted your smile, not your tears.

The shaking, the tears, the shallow breath, the huddled-up form and tightly locked eyes were clear signs of a panic attack. Taehyung had mentioned something was off, but he couldn’t go into detail. All Namjoon caught over the phone was your repeated chant for them to stay away from you. With the knowledge they have of you, it was safe to say that you discovered a piece of the puzzle you weren’t supposed to find yet.

They’ve been careful, especially given your history. All that of ‘one murderer would know another by their actions’ and so. He knew you were smart but maybe he underestimated you. For once in his entire life, Namjoon was uncertain of what to do and how to react. So he opted for the safest of options. Get. Your. Trust. Back.

Slowly he moved into the elevator. Crouching down, Namjoon softly placed his hands on your back and legs. He had to calm you down, and fast. He had absolutely no idea how long you’ve been hyperventilating and if you didn’t calm down soon, you would lose consciousness. Namjoon wasn’t sure if that would be the best of options. He needed you to calm down and tell him what happened.

With this goal in mind, he slowly pulled you into his chest. Stroking your hair as softly as possible he tried his outmost best to seem as safe as possible. Trust, he needed your trust.

“Shh, it’s okay Y/N. I have no idea what happened but please angel, you have to breathe. Copy my breathing if you must. I’m here, you’re safe with me Y/N.” Namjoon softly spoke into your hair. Gently stroking it.

For reasons unbeknownst to you, Namjoon’s presence made you feel safe. His tone was soothing, and his touch was soft. Deep down you knew he would never hurt you. But could you trust him?

Feeling you tense and relax under his touch, Namjoon took this as a good sign. He slightly tightened his hold on you as he continued to use his voice to soothe you. Namjoon settled for reassuring you rather than pressuring you to talk.

“I’m here. It’s okay baby. Shhh, breath for me Y/N. Please breathe.” Namjoon’s voice neared begging as he finished his sentence. He couldn’t understand why but the fact that his touch, his voice, wasn’t working as fast as he would have liked made him desperate.

Hearing the desperateness in his voice seemed to do the trick. Soon Namjoon felt your breathing matching his, body slightly relaxing against his. The keyword being slightly, but at least he was getting somewhere. Cautiously picking you up, Namjoon cradled you to his chest as he entered the lounging area. Making his way over to the couch, he was just about to put you down when the door to the stairwell opened. In came all five remaining boys, their voices announcing their presence before they were even seen.

At their voices, your whole body tensed up once again. Your arms flew up, locking around Namjoon’s neck as you buried your face in his chest, breathing shallowing once more as your anxiety raised once again. Feeling these changes Namjoon turned around, his eyes locked with each boy before he spoke.

“Get the hell out of this room”  

“Hyung? What’s going on?” Jimin asked as the rest of the boys fell silent. Confusion was clear on their faces as they took in the picture of you in Namjoon’s arms. The fact that you were clinging to Namjoon for dear life made them smile internally, but the fact that their voices alone made you this paranoid was hard to accept.

“Please, just leave so that I can calm her down again and try and fix this. Tae, go call Seokjin and tell him whatever he needs to know to help and then I want to know what happened in the last 30 minutes.” Namjoon spoke in a soft voice.

Again, his voice seemed to calm you down and all the boys could see that. With a nod or two, all five boys made their way out of the room. Luckily, this time you seemed to calm down as soon as they were gone. Your grip on Namjoon however, failed to loosen. Namjoon carried you to the couch as the baritone of his voice calmed you down to a whimpering and shivering ball in his arms.

To say they have their hands full would be a very vague description of the mess they were in.

•♡•

Stumbling into the examination room, Taehyung successfully startled the older boy and wasted no time as he cut straight to the point.

“Hyung, we need you. Somewhere, somehow we fucked up and now Y/N can’t even be in the same room as us without having an anxiety attack.” Taehyung blurted out.

Seokjin’s expression went from startled to concern to unreadable in a matter of seconds. Of course, they knew you would figure out the truth soon, but they had an entire timeline set out. You weren’t supposed to know their secret until a few days from now. Seokjin was positive this was all because the authorities failed to find his art in the timeframe they were supposed to.

They planned everything, from the victim to the death all the way up to the discovery. But apparently, the guy that was supposed to discover his art had a fucking heart attack and died the day after they finished with the setup. That’s fucking karma for you! He knew they were too quick in scarring you when Hoseok hid in your garden that one evening. They became greedy and cocky. Idiots.

“Tae, what the fuck did you do?” Seokjin’s voice was filled with rage as he spoke. But as the younger man explained the recent events his rage soon turned into concern. Realizing that they weren’t at fault for what happened, Seokjin was faced with the question of what changed in you that lead to this.

“… and then she fled to the elevator. She didn’t even look at us hyung. But when we entered the dorm and she was fine. Until Jungkook spoke and everything went to shit. Hyung, you should have seen how she clung to Namjoon-hyung, she was so scared.” Taehyung ended. His voice bordering hysteria.

“So you’re telling me she said all those things in her dream she was having and then when she woke up she was so worked up over the dream that she went into full panic mode? We did NOT see this coming. Okay, let me go get the Fentanyl* so we can get her calm, then we need to come up with a solution to this problem” Seokjin said as he moved to his special cabinet in the back.

•♡•

As Taehyung and Seokjin made their way back into the dorm, they found Namjoon sitting in such a way that your back was facing them. Silently they made their way over to where you still clung to Namjoon’s shirt for dear life. Hearing the shuffling of feet, your grip automatically tightened in Namjoon’s shirt. It surprised them that you haven’t drawn blood yet from the death grip you maintained on Namjoon’s shirt.

Seeing this reaction, Seokjin motioned for Taehyung to take a seat out of your peripheral vision. Dumping the already loaded syringe into his lab coat, Seokjin made sure to move slowly as he approached you. Seeing the approaching figure, you let out a small whimper as you curled into yourself even more.

Reaching you, Seokjin dropped down into his knees. Slowly he placed his one hand on your back. Flinching at the contact, fresh tears made their way down your cheeks as your breathing shallowed once more. slowly Seokjin moved his hand in small circles on your back. Keeping his voice as soft as possible, he spoke to you.

“Angel, it’s just me. I won’t hurt you, no one will while we are here. Breath in deep now, there we go! You’re doing well Y/N, keep on breathing like that”

Turning slightly to look at him, your breathing once again normal, you came face to face with deep brown eyes. In these eyes, you could find no danger. His voice, much as Namjoon’s voice, calmed you instantly. Seeing that something is working, Seokjin dared to smile at you slightly.

Heart skipping a beat, your eyes never left his eyes as Namjoon started rocking you slightly. The two men around you screamed safety and suddenly you couldn’t remember why you were afraid. That is until Taehyung came into your line of sight. Breath slightly hitching you took in his face. His eyes held a mixture of concern and hurt as they stared at you. You don’t know why but seeing the hurt in his eyes, felt wrong.

“Y/N, can I give you some medication to help you calm down a bit more? Your heart rate is a little to fast for my liking. Do you trust me, Little dove?” Seokjin’s voice pulled your attention back to him. His question silencing all thoughts in your head. Did you trust them? Like really trust them.

Before you could process his word more, another voice called out to you.

“Please Y/N. We hate seeing you like this. Please trust us baby, we want to keep you safe and you rejecting us hurts so much. Can you see how much it hurts? Please baby, let us help you.” Jungkook’s voice came from somewhere behind you. Pleading with you to let them in.

Looking back at Seokjin’s glazed eyes, you slowly nodded your consent. As soon as he pulled the syringe from his coat your anxiety spiked. Your fear of needles was evident as you started at the silver snake of death. It took all six boys to hold you down so that Seokjin could inject you with the medication. The scene looked like something out of one of those emergency rooms shows you loved to watch on weekends.

After the medication entered your system, Yoongi and Hoseok were the ones who held you close to their chests as the rest of the boys never left your side for too long. How could you have thought they would hurt you? All they ever did was protect you, you were the one to push them away instead of confronting your suspicions.

Before long, your eyes became droopy. Jimin brought you a fluffy blanked and Taehyung joined Yoongi and Hoseok on the couch, taking your feet into his lap as he sat down. Just as quick as the medication left the syringe, you were fast asleep in the arms of three of your boys. Positive that the medication finally kicked in at full force, the boys took in your peaceful image. This was how things where meant to have gone.

•♡•

“Okay, what do we do now?” Jimin asked looking over at your sleeping form with concern.

“We tell her the truth. This episode was unexpected yes, but I just have a feeling something else caused this. She looked so strong when we met her. Something must have changed. Maybe the memory from the past was just to painful or something. But we need to come clean with her. She has the right to know.”  Yoongi said, pulling you closer to his body.

“What if she runs? Then we must dispose of her like Daniel! If it wasn’t for that bastard, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place!” Jungkook exploded from his position on the floor.

“Kook calm down. If Daniel hadn’t talked, we would never have found someone like her. Besides, she’ll understand why we did what we did. She’s not that different from us. In fact, I would even dare to say she’s better than any of us.” Namjoon said observing you. You were quite remarkable, being so tiny for a murderer.

“Better than any of us? Namjoon come on. Don’t be biased on this subject. Our killings were faultless, no one even suspected us to be anywhere near the crime. She only killed, what? One person? She’s hardly a beginner” Seokjin piped up from the other couch.

“One kill? Clearly, you all have NOT read the file I send around before she came to us. Maybe that’s the reason she made the connection so fast because you guys were careless. Be honest, who read the file?” Yoongi hissed as he glared at the rest of the guys.

No one except Namjoon raised his hand at this question. This only made Yoongi even more agitated. Before the other boys knew what was happening, Yoongi exploded.

“FUCKING IDIOTS!! Do you realize what you could have done? Where you all really so stupid to think I would send a fucking file around, with instruction to read the damned thing, just for a NORMAL girl?? How high do you think of yourselves? She’s a Serial killer… a FUCKING SERIAL KILLER THAT HAS BEEN KILLING SINCE SHE WAS 16 YEARS OLD. Norman’s case was the only case where she was an actual suspect in. FUCKING IDIOTS!”

Wide-eyed and shocked into silence, all that was left to do was stare at the floor. They might have really fucked up this time.

•♡•

Light filtered into your eye as soon as you started opening them. The blurry image of a roof was all you could make out. Snuggling deeper into the fluffy feeling around you, you groaned at the pain that shot through your limbs. Your body was screaming at you to stay as still as possible.

The steady rise and fall beneath you forced you to open your eyes again. Turning your head slightly, you came face to face with two pairs of dark eyes staring right back at you. Yoongi and Hoseok both had soft smiles on their faces as they stared back at you. The sight made you feel warm inside, but your smile slipped from your face as the recent event flashed through your brain.

“Angel? Hey, welcome back Y/N. Here have some of this water and once your awake we’ll talk. You look confused, let us help” Hoseok’s soft voice soothed a gentle sigh from your lips. Sitting up, you found yourself sitting on Yoongi’s lap. Taking the water Jimin held out for you, you slowly sipped the liquid down. Your throat was dry and scratchy from all the crying and you could feel the beginning of a headache forming somewhere in your brain.

“So, Y/N. Can you please explain to us what happened a few hours ago? You were fine one moment and then you fell asleep and then everything went to shit as soon as you woke up.” Jungkook interjected when the silence stretched on to long. His question earned a few groans from some of the boys. This is not what they said they were going to do. Well, they wanted an explanation, but they were not planning on being so… direct.

“What Kook meant was that-“ Hoseok began, trying to save the situation. Only to be stopped by your own voice.

“I’ll tell you what happened if you come clean with me and tell me the truth as well. Somethings wrong with this whole ordeal and I want answers” You softly added. You needed to know the truth. Where they the same as you? If this is true, what do you do from there? Run? Report them? You had no idea what to do if they turned out to be exactly what you dreamt they were, and you did not want this situation to turn out like your dream.

They were seven. Lucky for them, bad for you.

 Chapter 9 

•♡•

*Fentanyl is a common drug used legally by doctors to treat severe pain or chronic pain. Fentanyl binds the body’s opioid receptors in the brain area controlling pain and emotions. Some of the effects of Fentanyl include: Extreme happiness, drowsiness, nausea, confusion, unconsciousness and sedation.

 Taglist: @loonyginger @hani-bun @sugashaye @alomarce @loisje123 @chim-possible @imfor-everdrivinginpuddles @exprimidordefresas @speakyourselfloveyourself @autumnboo126 @3amthoughtsvented @thetrxshbx @michiluvddr @purecelestialpower @ur-honey-child @dulce-whirlpool @moonlightnightingalesworld @loudfriendtacocookie @mysteriousanna @diorluvs @misseoulite @mina9235​ @crajishie​ @undergroundqueens @hannahpostema @skay @mixerbeauty @adultingtomato @hauntedstatesmanmoneyknight @slutkoo​ @freeformdn @flowersinmypockets @kelwaters​ @cool-strawberry @vi-hoshi​ @xxqueenwxtchxx​ @kyliewonder @kpop20182019​ @regularcow​

[sheonvinyl]

the snl standby line ~experience~

um. wow.....

so i’m making this post mostly for myself and to have a documentation of these memories while its all still pretty fresh in my brain, but i figured i would share it on here too just in case anyone wanted to read it or chat about it all w me. (side note: if u were in the line too PLS hit me up we MUST discuss)

basically, long story short is my friend and i slept on the streets of nyc for three nights in below freezing degree weather, got standby tickets for the live show and were able to get in......like i was THERE. for the snl LIVE taping. 

feel free to keep reading below the break if you want an extremely detailed description of the whole ordeal and my personal experience that no one asked for dsjkhfksdjh

to be frank our journey did not start out as we had originally planned lmao. when harry announced that he was doing double duty my friend and i immediately were like. let’s start planning bc we’re 100% going. that resulted in a lot of amazon prime orders and reading up on blogs about tips and tricks in order to plan. we were trying to gauge how far in advance we were going to have to get in line in order to have a good chance. we got a lot of our info from a twitter account/blog run by these three women who have been to every show this season and been in the standby line every week so we trusted their advice. they have been so many times that they apparently have a relationship with the security ppl and are in contact with them. and obviously since it was harry this week, there was a lot more buzz about it and higher stakes of actually getting a ticket. people had been tweeting about lining up on MONDAY in order to be in the front of the line. this account reached out to people and nbc and said that security didn’t want anyone lining up before thursday and if people did, they would be asked to leave and not allowed to get back in line again. finding this out made us panic a bit bc we didn’t want to get thrown out for breaking the rules or anything like that. we originally decided to finish up our days at our internships on wednesday, head back to our apartment, gather up all our supplies and head to 30 roc around 10 so that we could be ready to get in line at midnight aka when it would officially be thursday. 

however, when i woke up wedensday morning amidst all the news about harry’s tour dates etc. there was an update that there were ~20ish people in line already. and that set us into a panic. we were confused if they were going to be thrown out or not bc they lined up before thursday, but periodically as we checked throughout the day security didn’t seem to be doing anything about it. so we made the decision to get to the line as quickly as possible after work. not sure i’ve ever moved faster in my life than i did when i got home and immediately threw anything i thought would be remotely useful into my duffle bag. the state of my room right now? despicable.

we make it to the line a little bit after 8 pm and after an initial assessment, we were around #70-80 in line. and based on that, we decided to stay and set up camp bc we thought our chances were pretty good. (for reference: when the standby tickets were handed out on saturday morning, we were 86th and 87th in line so the number definitely fluctuated based on when people counted us and people maybe being in the bathroom during the count etc.)

everyone around us in line was super super super nice and the ppl we met thru it will def be homies for life. we went through too much together not to be bonded for life ksjdhfksdh. shout out to aisha @teafull​ specifically !!!! we really did that luv......miss u and kristina already babes xoxoxox

wednesday night was definitely the worst sleeping-wise. our set up originally was a waterproof tarp on the ground and then a yoga mat that my friend used as a bed and then our two camping chairs next to the yoga mat. for the first night, i slept in the camping chairs using one to sit in and having my legs propped up on the other one. we each had two blankets and were wearing more layers than i could ever count. we bought a shitton of feet warmers, toe warmers and hand warmers in preparation, but we didn’t really get the hang of using them until the second and third night lol. i woke up probably every hour and a half on wednesday night bc i was either uncomfortable or just so unbearably cold. every time i woke up i made sure to move my toes around bc i was so paranoid i was going to get frostbite lmao. 

thursday was better. we actually got the hang of the hand and feet warmers!! we figured out that if we were wearing shoes they didn’t really work because they were being suffocated and they needed to be in open air to work properly. they worked exponentially better if we didn't wear shoes bc they were exposed to the cold air and heated up really well so that’s a useful piece of information out of this i guess?? sdjhkds. at this point i think there were about 150 people in line. the line wrapped from the back of the nbc building on 6th ave/avenue of the americas around to w 48th street as far as the nintendo store which ends right at the today show plaza (and it got even longer over the next two days). 

one of the worst things about the whole experience would probably have to be the incessant comments from passerbys on the street. they would look at us and speak about us as if we weren’t there. they would also film or take photos of us in the LEAST discreet ways possible which was very irritating. and made me feel like a literal zoo animal on display. i heard comments like “they know the show is on SATURDAY right?”, “they’re doing all of this for that one guy from one direction?”, “do your parents know you’re doing this?”, “you’ve got to be kidding me”, “they’re going to freeze to death for not even a guaranteed ticket to see this guy” and by far the absolute worst one and most offensive thing i heard, “they’re like the modern day homeless”. i could go on a whole separate tangent about this because it makes me so FUCKING angry, but i was very close to confronting some people because of the impeccably inconsiderate, insensitive and blatantly classist comments people were making straight to our faces. additionally some people in line were being harassed by people from radio stations (or people posing as employees of radio stations) that clearly had the agenda of making it seem like fans of harry are dumb and unaware of world issues etc. you can read a more well-written and detailed account about it all on aj’s blog here. but i’ll reiterate that they definitely chose the wrong group to mess with!! the issue was dealt with in record time and i’m proud of and thankful for all the people who stood up to that asshole and put him in his place. he deserved it.

i slept the best on thursday night into friday. probably because i finally had the common sense to buy GLOVES (someone lmk why i thought it was okay to come without them ??? ) as well as buy an extra blanket at a barnes and noble nearby. one of my roommates was also kind enough to bring me her yoga mat and two extra pairs of pants to add to my layers. those two extra layers 100% made a difference. not much happened in the line on friday besides a little bit of drama between a couple of girls at the front of the line who apparently left for 10+ hours that day and (to my knowledge) weren’t kicked out of the line. i don’t want to speak too much on it because i wasn’t directly involved in any of it and only heard it by word of mouth. however, i will say i think there was definitely some suspicious activity from some people that were in line who were for example, using lawn chairs (which are specifically prohibited on the snl webpage) and abusing their break times. 

at 7 pm on friday, the line was shifted so that the beginning of it started at the doors to the nbc studio. i think they do this mainly so that the pages who hand out the standby tickets have easier access to the line? but i’m not positive. our new area was now on 6th ave, smack dab in front of the rear end of 30 roc, basically where the line had originally started. with the amount of people in line (probably around 200 or so at this point on friday) it STILL wrapped around to west 48th even after the shift. and then not even 20 minutes after they moved us was when snl interns came down with CARTS of slices of WATERMELON and CHERRIES !!!!!!! when i tell you i lost it.....

i didn’t get a good picture of the cherries but you get the idea. one of the interns giving us info about what was going on said that harry “was very specific about giving you guys cherries and watermelon” sjkdfhksdjh. and because of his previous behavior w the kiwis i was like....well he’s not playing watermelon sugar then we’re just going to have to prepare for something else. and let me tell you, i have never been more happy to be wrong in my entire LIFE. 

additionally, a couple of men, who i believe worked for snl or nbc, came around with carts of soup for all of us. they didn't confirm or deny that harry sent them (which makes me think he probably didn’t), but the two options were either chicken and sausage or split pea. yes, that’s correct. SPLIT. PEA. when they told me that, i shrieked in their faces, “YOU’VE GOT TO BE JOKING” and they just looked at me so weirdly and go, “......no? like which one do you want......” skdjhfkjsdh. they definitely thought i was absolutely off my rocker (which i certainly was, but that’s besides the point). i’m pescatarian so i chose split pea, and if there’s one thing to know about me it’s that i absolutely ABHOR peas, but i ate it anyway. i had to use all of the oyster crackers as well as some pretzel crisps that i brought with me as a snack in order to make it bearable LMAO. however, regardless of if harry sent it himself, it was a really nice gesture and i’m thankful that they were kind enough to provide us with some food. the snl staff also sent down hot chocolate and coffee and pizza over the course of the three days which was very much appreciated as well!

we were a lot less separated in our new spot on 6th ave so everyone in line was able to hang out with each other a lot more which as really fun!! a girl near us had brought cards against humanity and a group of 7 of us played for what felt like over an hour or so which was really good time. aisha won and no, i am not salty about it at all !!!!!1!1!11!11!!!! 

it was really difficult to sleep that night as well because we were on a much busier road with a lot more lights. it also felt colder and windier despite windscreens that staff put up around our barricades (see the poor quality pic of my friend and i with one of them below LOL). i think everyone was really on edge for the next morning so i’m sure that didn’t help with sleeping either. we settled down to go to bed a little past midnight and i woke up at least three times throughout the night to readjust my blankets and sleeping position or check the time.

finally saturday morning came. my friend had to shake me awake at 6:30 am bc i was finally able to doze off again, but the panic in me immediately activated and i was UP and ready to go. we still hadn't come to a full decision on if we were going to choose dress rehearsal or live yet so we were definitely on edge. we basically wanted to wait until the pages came to us and ask them how many people chose live vs. dress so that we could choose the show we were more likely to get into. however, deep inside i know that we both desperately wanted tickets to the live show. we had been keeping track of other people who were farther up in the line via their socials and seeing what they were choosing too. surprisingly (at least to me), a lot of people ahead of us decided to choose dress rehearsal rather than live. in theory, it makes sense because you’d hopefully get to see more sketches that might get cut for time as well as “spend more time” w harry. my friend and i (who is probably the biggest snl fan on the planet, no lie) would’ve been happy with either, but we both definitely wanted to witness the show that everyone else was going to watch on tv. 

when the pages got to us we found out that it was basically split 50/50. an equal amount of people decided to do live vs. dress. for either show we chose, we would’ve been in the 40s for our standby ticket number. and because of that, we decided to SEND IT and sign up for tickets for the live show (and partly because all our friends in line were also sending it w the live show too!!!). we were tickets #41 and #42 and we honestly felt really really good about it, but we didn’t want to discuss it too much or get our hopes up in the event that it didn’t end up working out. 

after that, the actual standby line experience was basically over. we IMMEDIATELY grabbed all our stuff and ubered back to our apartment. our roommates were already up and they greeted us with lights up blasting through our alexa akjhfkdfh. saturday was also conveniently my university’s homecoming weekend, and as seniors in college, my friend and i felt that it was important for us to go. i won’t go into too much detail about it bc that’s not really the point of this whole post, but my friend and i REALLY had ourselves a DAY on saturday. i actually don’t know how we pulled this off. we ended up showering for probably 40 minutes each to scrub the grime off our body and then day drank from 11:30 to maybe 5 pm........like??? whomst???? luckily, i was able to squeeze in a nap before we had to start getting ready for check in at 10 pm back at 30 roc, but i was 110% hungover when i woke up. 

we got to 30 roc at around 9:30 and were told to go to the nbc store to check in. from there they cross-checked the name on your ID and name on your ticket and then lined you up in order based on your ticket number. i don’t think i realized how many people actually ended up lining up for the standby line until we were there....people had ticket numbers all the way up #267 or something. that’s CRAZY!! after a bit of waiting (maybe half an hour?) a security guy came out and told us that they were going to starting bringing the group up into the corridor and get the process moving. he made it clear that this wasn’t a guarantee to get in. the first 40 were taken and then after about 5 minutes they sent probably the next 40 or so (including us in the front of that second group). from there, we did a security check and waited in the hallway outside the peacock lounge (anyone who’s been to a taping of snl, jimmy fallon or seth meyers might know what i’m talking about). while waiting there we saw a few people trickle in and go through a security check as well. those people included zoey deutch (!!!!!!) - who was rocking this INSANE red plaid suit combo as well as the cutest bob i’ve ever seen - as well as GLENNE aka jeff’s wife who was also serving looks™️ with her outfit. 

security then moved us farther down the hallway closer to the elevators and this is where we all started getting really nervous. i had no concept of time bc my phone was running out of battery and i turned it off bc i was paranoid if they saw it they would ask me to leave skdjhfs. it was only a matter of minutes before we knew if we were going to make it in or not. the staff had us line up two by two and kept counting and recounting us. then one of them grabbed a stack of wristbands and counted us one last time before he stopped at ticket #30 and said “congratulations all of you have a seat in the show”. the energy in the room was SO CHARGED. he was handing out their tickets and was urging them to put them on as quickly as possible and then they were ushered into the elevators. side note: there’s rumors that lorne michaels (creator and head of snl) reserves 30 seats specifically for the standby line. so that might be why he originally stopped at ticket #30.

my friend and i were holding each others hands as if our lives depended on it bc it was really make it or break it at this point. a couple minutes later he goes down the line again while counting us and stops after maybe 15-20 people behind us and again goes “congratulations, you have a seat in the show”. my legs literally almost gave out. my friend couldn’t speak to me bc she was trying so hard to hold in her sobs. i had to put on her wristband for her bc her hands were shaking so much LMAO. they quickly usher us into the elevator and as soon as the doors close all of us in the elevator start screaming and cheering bc WE MADE IT!!! but we quickly quiet down because we had been told beforehand that if we were excessively screaming during the show that we would be removed. i’m pretty sure that during dress rehearsal the staff said someone was shouting distracting comments at harry during the pauses and they were kicked out. someone else was also kicked out for drinking which......blows my mind. but anyway.

when they elevator doors open we are ushered SO FAST into the studio and into seats. i almost got split up from my friend bc the page tried to sit me in a single seat and i was like “no no no, i’m with her”. luckily they were able to sit us together on the back wall of the section that was facing front. they weren’t actual seats, but rather a large cushioned bench. most of our standby line peeps were sat in the right-most section of the studio which was sad that we couldn’t sit next to everyone, but also glad that my friend and i were sat together. 

the taping started no more than 10 minutes after we got there. it all happened so quick and i don’t think i’ve really fully processed everything that happened. i won’t talk too much about the sketches because you can all just watch them yourself but i’ll talk a little bit about some of the behind the scenes things that we witnessed. 

1. the way in which harry RAN between scenes and sketches was INSANE sdkfjhsdkjfh. right after the monologue he basically LUNGED off stage. a staff member (i think its a woman who does wigs for the snl cast) was moving so fast past the main stage after the cameras cut that from what i saw, the way harry had moved so quickly made her TRIP and harry IMMEDIATELY scooped her up basically DRAGGED her backstage skjdfhksjdhfdjkshk. it all happened so fast i still can’t tell if i imagined it happening or not but it was crazy. either way, harry was on the MOVE. 

2. one of my fav sketches by far was the lamaze class one. harry did SUCH A GOOD JOB SFKHSKJDHFSD especially w the accent????? (he actually did so many accents throughout the show i’m so proud of him). he broke a little bit during the lamaze one but as far as i remember that’s the only time he broke?? which??? that’s honestly impressive, especially for the sketches/jokes they were doing (don’t even get me started on the Sara Lee sketch....). also i wasn’t openly jealous of heidi gardiner because of how harry was holding her and caressing her but i was jealous. i will not speak more on this topic.

3. the slow/ballad version of lights up.............BREATHTAKING. there was not a sound in that studio literally everyone was so mesmerized by it. it was honestly gorgeously performed and the back up vocalists did SUCH and amazing job!! the music stage wasn’t really near us but we still had a good view of harry himself and THAT OUTFIT. it was......chefs kiss.

4. when the ballerina photos came up on the screen there was an audible GASP that ran through the audience. i shrieked. i almost grabbed the woman’s hand whom was sitting next to me and i did not know. that is all. 

5. WATERMELON SUGAR !!!!!!?!?!?!??!?!!!!!!!! y’all. have i got a story for you. when the drums hit right before the first “high” my friend and i went FERAL. we were on the edges of our seat the WHOLE song. i had such the urge to stand up and dance but we couldn’t out of fear of getting kicked out ksjhdfkjhs. the entire song we had our hands in the air grooving to it, i was flailing my limbs as MUCH AS I POSSIBLY COULD to jam out to it. additionally, if you watch the performance back you can actually see that harry’s hands are shaking and he’s fiddling with his soundbox on his back during the beginning of the song. we’re pretty sure that his earpiece wasn’t working so he was freaking out a bit. he started to dance a little, but you can kind of tell that he was a bit stiff, maybe because of nerves. then at one point, he looks to someone off stage to his right and he smiles at them and laughs a bit to himself. after that, he starts looking around at the audience up above and there are times that harry looks over to his left EXACTLY in the direction of where my friend and i were sitting/dancing. my friend who has literally ANALYZED this performance from watching it so many times claims that 2:15 is the exact moment that he looks over sees us flailing our entire bodies. and right after he looks over is when he really starts moving and grooving himself and appearing to look a bit more comfortable. while we don’t know FOR SURE if he really did see us or started dancing bc he saw us jamming out, i do want to mention that we were literally the ONLY people in the studio moving like that. we were in the back corner by the sound guy and one of the exits and sitting next to a middle aged married couple who were looking at us like we were certifiably crazy. we had a view of almost everyone in the audience because we were in the last row and as far as we could tell, we were the only ones that were jamming out as hard as we were. so take with that what you will. but from this time forward, i will go on with my life believing that my uncontrollable bodily reactions to hearing watermelon sugar LIVE perhaps made dear harold feel a little less nervous and more comfortable to do his thang :-)))))

i don’t think i’ve clapped harder for anything in my life than i did when he finished performing watermelon sugar and when he signed off the show. i teared up watching him go around to his band and all the cast members giving them the BIGGEST hugs. you can clearly tell that every single person on that cast had the best time with him this week. heidi and cecily both mentioned in their instagram posts about how agreeable he was to everything and how he has to come back to host again. it was clear that he had SUCH a fun experience and he did SO WELL!!!!! i have no doubt in my mind that he is going to host (or do double duty) again at some point in the future. so to those who were in the standby line and didn’t make it in to the taping for live or dress, don’t lose faith. there will for SURE be another opportunity to do this whole thing again. i am so so proud of everyone who was brave enough to face the elements for even a chance to get a standby ticket over these past couple days. you’re all so strong and such warriors. this is certainly not the last time he’ll be doing this. 

as grueling and testing as the whole camping out on the streets and standby ticket experience was, i would do it all over again in a heartbeat. i’m a senior in college and was privileged enough to be able to skip some classes and call out of work in order to do this. i figured that this time in my life is probably one of the only chances where i’ll be able to actually drop everything and sleep on the streets for three days to see one of my favorite people in the world. and in the end, it was all worth it. i couldn’t be prouder of harry and what an amazing job he did last night. this journey is something that i will cherish forever (and will definitely be telling my kids about in the future).

feel free to message me or drop in my inbox if you have questions or want to come chat about it all ! thanks to anyone who actually had the patience to read this whole thing. i’m so sorry for how unbearably long this was dkjfhsdkjhsdk. much love to you all. treat people with kindness :-)

[tofics]

Not You Again, Chapter 1

Pairing: Human!Elijah x Reader

Plot: Based on this prompt I got an idea for a two-chapter mini story in which Y/N is an event manager whose latest clients are the Mikaelsons. On the very night of an important event she suddenly runs into someone she didn’t expect at all... 

Author’s note: I told you, I might end up writing, so here I am! Haha. Bare with me, I’m a bit rusty. Like I said, I plan for this to be two chapters in total, and chapter 2 is most likely going to be out very soon!

“I said a few inches to the left. Not to the right, not towards north, not towards south, but to the left. How hard can it be to follow a simple instruction?” The irritation with the incompetence incarnated into the two men in front of you clearly showed in your voice. They murmured their sorry’s and lifted the table again - only to put it down in the wrong spot, again.

“No no no no no, people, come on!” You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration before pushing the men, both of which were apparently all muscle and no brain at all, to the side and tackling the table on your own. By some miracle (or just fueled by pure rage) you managed to push the gigantic piece of polished wood just into the right spot. Satisfied with your work, you clapped your hands together, then swirled back around to the two (not so) handymen.

“There. Was that so hard, gentlemen?” Without giving them a chance to reply, you gathered your clipboard and flipped through the lists pinned to it before giving them further instructions. “There should be five more tables just as this one waiting outside. I want them arranged just like this one. Don’t disappoint me or Bill will be hearing from me about your incapability to perform the simplest tasks. Are we clear?” The sweet smile you gave the two men was in stark contrast to the tone of your voice, which left no doubt that you were quite serious about getting them fired, should they mess up again.

The two muscle hunks hurried past you and you took the free minute to go over your checklist. Although you had at least half of the tasks ticked off, the number of things still left to do was almost impossibly long. “We can do this” you whispered to yourself. When you said we, you really meant yourself. You were a party planner, and one of the best there was in and around New Orleans, if not in all of Louisiana. You had your fair share of events under your belt and didn’t have a pristine reputation for no reason. You got shit done, no matter what it took, even if it meant that you had to be a Jack of all trades. It wasn’t uncommon to find you folding hundreds of napkins the night before a wedding or adding finishing touches to a place at 4am just to make sure that your client absolutely got what they envisioned.

This event was very important to you. The Mikaelsons were throwing a gala, which on its own wasn’t very special. They threw big events all the time, being the dramatic, extravagant and important-to-the-town family that they were, but this time, the guests in attendance would be coming in from all over the country, which meant an array of potentially new nation-wide clients. It was always important to you that you did a good job and got your clients through their important days and events without a hiccup, but this time, there was absolutely no room for fuck ups whatsoever. Tonight had to be perfect, even if you had to kill someone for it.

Which is why, when you saw the waiters stacking glasses carelessly onto the shiny shelves, leaving them standing in anything but a perfect row, you got ready to give them a piece of your mind. It was only 8am, there were roughly 150 things on your list waiting to be crossed off, and you sighed to yourself. “We can do this,” you whispered to yourself once more and hurried over to fix the glass order.

The rest of the day you hurried from one fiasco to the next, ticking off tasks one after one. The place slowly came together, presenting itself in a glowy and yet modest fashion. There was a lot of white, but not so much that you could get wedding vibes; there was a lot of dark wood and flecks of copper here and there, all of the colors nicely balancing each other out. Come dinner time, the hall would be flooded with golden light from the sun setting, turning the copper decoration pieces into a warm, rich golden color. It would be perfect, and you gave yourself an imaginary pat on the shoulder for having outdone yourself once more. The Mikaelsons were steady clients of yours and at this point only gave you a rough outline of what they wanted their events to look like; you were almost entirely free in your realization, especially when it came to color schemes and decorating. You snapped a picture of the hall and send it to Niklaus Mikaelson for confirmation. He was the one that had commissioned you to realize this gala, and within minutes, you had a response in your inbox.

Fantastic. Amazing work, like always.

You smiled to yourself about the praise and went over your list once more to see if everything was ready and in place. It was. The only thing left to do was to freshen up and get into your evening attire. It would be roughly an hour before Niklaus Mikaelson and his sister would arrive, which was plenty of time for you to get ready.

Ten minutes prior to the Mikaelson’s arrival you were ready. You had made it a habit to always be ready at least ten minutes before any of your clients arrived, and it was a habit that had never disappointed you. Those few that were early themselves appreciated it when you welcomed them, and if they were late (like most of her clients usually were), you had time to do one last round of check-ups. Waiting near the back entrance for your clients you watched the staff buzzing around, keeping an eye out for anything out of place, but nothing caught your eye. Satisfied, you glanced at your reflection in the mirrored hallway and couldn’t help but smile a little. You weren’t the type to be conceited, but there was no denying that you were really quite gorgeous. The green velvet hugged you in all the right places and when you moved your skin softly shimmered through the long slit in the fabric that went all the way up till shortly over your knee. Your Y/H/C hair hung in luscious waves over your shoulder and your sleek dark heels perfectly rounded off the look.

“Miss Y/L/N, they’re arriving.” One of the men of the staff, dressed in the snazzy suits that they had been assigned for tonight, winked at you before returning his attention back to his headset. “Tell the wardrobe guys to get ready. Guests will be arriving starting in 30 minutes.” He hurried out of sight and you straightened your gown down once more before the door to your right opened and in stepped the two Mikaelson siblings.

“Niklaus, so good to see you.” You kissed him hello on both cheeks, then did the same with Rebekah. If you looked gorgeous, then they looked like angels. He was dressed in an impeccable dark suit and she wore a black satin dress that made her look like the goddess of death herself. For the millionth time, you wondered if their beauty was in their genes or if their money had something to do with it, but either way, you had rarely seen a family that was just so... beautiful.

“Let me show you guys around. The place came together wonderfully. Follow me.” You smiled and led them towards the ceremony hall, the two siblings following close behind you.

The Mikaelsons knew how to party. And they knew how to party elegantly. That had asked you to hire Michael Buble for the night and he was putting on his best show on stage, presenting his latest album. Most of the guests were on the dancefloor, and the few that could resist Buble’s charming jazz were scattered around the hall sipping on drinks or feasting on some of the snacks that were still being brought out by the waiters. You wondered how some of them could be eating despite just having gone through a six-course menu, but then one of the waiters walked past you and you immediately understood. Just the sight of the small pastries made your mouth water and you stole one off the tray before the delicacies wandered out of your reach again.

“Enjoying yourself, love?” You hadn’t expected Niklaus Mikaelson behind you and his voice made you jump, causing half of the bite in your mouth to go down the wrong pipe. “Oh, now, careful love, we don’t want you to choke. Who else is going to put on such wonderful events for us if not you?” Niklaus laughed softly, patting you on the back while you coughed and gasped for air.

“I’m sorry sir... just had a... snack,” you wheezed until you finally felt your airway open up again.

“Not to worry dear, as always the buffet is open to you as well, but that is not why I’m here. My dear big brother just texted me telling me that he finally made it into town for our functions and informed me that he will be arriving shortly. He doesn’t enjoy the big cameras so he will be arriving as discreetly as we did. Would you be so kind and receive him?”

“Of course, sir. Right away.” Still red in the face - partly from choking, partly from being embarrassed about choking - you hurried through the corridors until you reached the back door. Niklaus and Rebekah had always mentioned that they had more siblings, all of which were somehow involved in the company, and from what you understood, the brother you were about to welcome was the one with the biggest say in the firm. Which was probably why you had never seen him before - he’d never come to any of the events you’d orchestrated for the Mikaelsons before, probably being too busy closing deals all over the world. You were a little nervous to be greeting this stranger, but also weirdly excited. You liked meeting new clients, and being the biggest fish at the corporation, he probably had some events, even if private, to throw on his own...

You were already down the deep end, caught in fantasies about throwing lavish events for this mysterious wealthy stranger when the door in front of you swung open and a handsome man stepped inside.

“Welcome, Mr Mikaelson, I’m so pleased to meet y-” Your voice hitched in your throat as you recognized his face. It was a face that you had last seen over a year ago, in a bar, shortly after your boyfriend had ditched you. That very handsome face had invited you to a drink, and you’d said yes, because what did you have to lose? And then one drink turned into three, and three turned into five, and before you knew it, you were in bed with that handsome face. That face had been between your legs. You had sat on that handsome face. Your face flushed red once more at the memory.

“What are you doing here?” You blurted out. Meanwhile, the man in front of you seized you up from head to toe, his eyes slowly wandering over your body. You could feel your skin burning where his eyes trailed along and you saw a smile spread on his face.

“Interesting, it seems I could ask you the same.” He leaned against the mirrored wall opposite you and resumed studying your appearance, his eyes roaming over you once more so shamelessly the redness in your face didn’t even get a chance to fade away.

“I’m managing this event. Care to tell me what you’re doing here, breaking in through the backdoor? This is a private event. In fact, I’m waiting for someone important. Now you either show me your invitation or I’ll have security escort you out.” You didn’t really have a reason to be so nippy, but then again, he had said he’d call you, and he never did. So there was that.

To your bewilderment, he just chuckled, amusement clearly showing on his face.

“Hello? Your invitation, please!” You held your hand out demonstratively, but he just crossed his arms, that same smug smile still on his lips.

“Alright then, have it your way.” You shook your head and started dialing the number for security on your phone when he snatched it out of your hand and smoothly slid it into his suit jacket. Before you could so much as protest, he opened his mouth to speak first.

“Remember my name, darling?”

He had some nerve. Breaking into a private function and then shamelessly flirting with you, even taking your phone away! Who did he think he was?

“I do, Elijah, but what’s that got to do with-” you started, but he interrupted you.

“I never did get to properly introduce myself that night, did I? How very rude of me. Pleased to meet you, Y/N, Elijah Mikaelson.”

He took your hand and pressed a kiss against it while the color drained from your face. Mikaelson? Did he just say Mikaelson?

“You’re - you’re Niklaus’ brother? You’re his older brother?” You stammered, suddenly feeling a hint of dread wash over you. So much for your policy of never sleeping with a client. 'But I didn’t know!’ you whined to yourself in your head. ‘Don’t matter. You fucked that one up, kiddo’ a snarky voice replied inside your brain.

“Indeed. I assume I’m the important guest you’ve been waiting for?” Elijah winked at you and you gulped.

“Hu. Yeah. You are. I had no idea that you...” you trailed off, unsure of where you were going with the sentence. Then you remembered how you had treated him so far, and that he was still, in this scenario, somehow your boss. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Forgive me, Mr Mikaelson. It was very inappropriate of me to accuse you of breaking and entering.” Your eyes dropped to the floor in shame, but your voice was steady, having switched into auto-professional-mode.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Now, why don’t you show me to my brother’s party?”

Tag list:  @idkhaylijah @rissyrapp20 @hides2000 @dolans-lover @neeadinghugs  @roslea @captainshurley

[thekingofwinterblog]

Game Freak, Stagnation, Luck and the Refusal to Change

Its Amazing how much fucking grief Game Freak could easily have avoided if they simply said it would take a few months post launch to impliment all pokemon.

No one would have given a shit, they would have gotten away with halfassing everything else, having the A Team working on a game no one asked for, they could take their time, and all the hype would have remained at the top of the world.

Then again if they did that, it would have required actual work, and maybe expanding the company. And God forbid they actually invest any of those billions of Dollars they have earned over the Years.

Amongst all of Nintendo’s teams and Secondary companies, Game Freak is the most stagnant, and that can in Large part be contributed to their immense success. they started with around 150 people, and they currently have around 150 people. They have Stubbornly refused to expand the rooster over the year, despite the fact that they Struck gold better than literarly any other Company in the Game industry.

This in turn Lead to the Company growing stagnant, not innovating, and in general not really going foreward nearly as much as other companies.

There is a question to be made though. Was it always this way? Before this whole debacle i used to think that Game Freak used to be this amazing innovative company, that managed to score an amazing hit and pushed that for all its worth.

However after digging deeper ive kinda begun to question that at all. or Rather ive come to realise that Game Freak is a good example of how a company needs input from other sources for it to not fall into decadence, and that sometimes you need someone to come along and give you a few suggestions. Or a kick in the ass, as they need in Newer times

----GENERATION 1----

Going back all the Way to Red and Green, Nintendo gave what was quite possibly the first Mandate it Ever gave for the Pokemon franchise. This demand? Add PVP to the Game. Thats right, originally Game Freak didnt want to add PVP whatsoever. Given how Game Freak now wishes to fuck over the competitive scene permanently, the fact that they never originally didnt want to have players battle at all should not come as a great suprise.

Withouth this one feature, it seems unlikely pokemon would have been as big a hit as it became. Maybe it would have been added in the Blue and yellow versions and have been in all international releases, but this is by no means certain. Player against players would have come eventually no doubt, but its fully possible that left entierly to their own devices, Game Freak would not have implemented this feature before Gold and Silver.

How big this would have impacted the franchise in both short and long term is impossible to say, but it certainly would have drastically reduced the long term gameplay of the first Game by quite a lot.

however, i should note that im not arguing that Game Freak did not work hard for Red and Green. they did, and they worked on it to the point that right before it was released, Mew was secretly added to the game under Nintendo’s noses. but it sets the Stage for Game Freak often not implimenting the obvious, or not going out of their way to add stuff beyond their original vision of the game.

Setting the stage, we get to the first truely innovative pokemon Game. Pokemon Stadium. And as we’ll see over the course of this retrospective, the Innovative games, is not the ones made by Game Freak themselves, but instead Other companies. In this case Nintendo themselves, Hal Labratory, and its Brilliant leader Satoru Iwata, a man who as we’ll see created half of Pokemon Gold and Silver singlehandedly.

Iwata began his involvement in Pokemon History in Great Style. By taking a look at the pokemon Battle system, and memorising it withouth Code or notes. that might not seem that impressive, but he then went on to create the entire Battle System of Pokemon Stadium exclusively from his own memories, and amazingly enough he would fix things which Game Freak had fucked up in its first outing, like Focus Energy actually working and a number of other smaller mistakes Game Freak had Made being fixed for Stadium.

Stadium Would Then go on to create Pokemon Models that would be used all the way to the third Generation, where the Orre Games would simply ugrade them.

Another innovative feature was to unlock a Game Mode which let you speed up your Game Boy Game while playing it on the stadium. An Amazing tool for anyone who wants to Grind, and a really good reward for anyone who put the effort into unlocking it.

Stadium is by no means a Perfect Game. but it Set the tone for it being the Other companies Nintendo Employes being the truely innovative game makers in regards to pokemon. Iwata in particular being a truly important figure for the second Generation of Pokemon Games.

So after the golden Ticket that Game Freak had in the Original Red and Green, you would expect them to heavily invest them into making sure that when the sequels rolled around, they would have everything in place, a bigger more experienced team, and all the resources they would need to get the Second Games rolling. If you had this expectation, the actual development is actually quite a sad affair.

----GENERATION 2----

Now there was an obstacle which wasnt their fault at all, which was the game boy colour. Given its sudden and unexpected release, Game Freak now had to Port the second generation Games so they would work on both the original Game Boy and the New Version. that would have been a daunting task, but if the development was going well to begin with, they would propbably have pulled it off.

that however was not the case. Long story short, the Games were a complete Mess, they had a hundred ideas, but There seems to have been no hard leader who would wrangle them in line and decide what to cut and not cut. and as the first Release Date which they would delay another year began to creep closer, they had come to a point where they neared the end of the Capacity of the Game Boys Cartridge power to handle. yet they were only halfway through the development. It reads like an eerily similar Development which Anthem would go through around 2 decades later.

So, what happened? why did the Second Pokemon Generation not end up as a dysmal failure? the Answer is Satoru Iwata. at this Point the Brilliant Future president of Nintendo Stepped in to save the day, and he Decompressed the entire work the team had done, to such a degree that they unexpectedly had so much extra space that they decided to just port Kanto over to the newer Games.

To put it bluntly, Game Freak was about to Completely Blow it, and was only saved thanks to the genius of a single man they only had access to thanks to their bosses at nintendo.

in other words, Pure Luck and chance.

Between gold and silver, and the third generation there was Crystal and pokemon Stadium 2. Crystal very much reads like a game where game freak had more breathing room to just impliment the ideas they originally had for Gold and Silver, and while not the most expansive third Game, it certainly was a step in the Right Direction. Stadium 2, was not created by iwara, and feels more like a game where the team from the previous Game just polished up the old stuff and added more pokemon. and there is nothing wrong with that. at least they gave and delivered on the expansion of new pokemon which this update promised. i mean, its not like Game Freak would be forced to cut features from gold and Silver for their next games right?

----GENERATION 3----

Generation 3 was, and probably is the most divisive released generation of Pokemon at the time of this writing. there are a lot of Reasons for this. the first and most obvious reason, was that there was no way to port over all the pokemon from generation 1 and 2, but unlike the newest development in sword and shield, there was actual Mechanical reasons for it, as well as a generally overhaul of the way stats and mechanics worked. More Glaring is the the fact that this was the most difficult set of pokemon games Game Freak ever worked on. which shouldnt be a suprise. it was entierly now hardware after all.

Junichi Masuda famously worked himself to the abslute brink while doing work on the game, and up to the very release date he had nightmares about them completely failing and bombing. this did not happen of course. Ruby and Sapphire were great Games, even if they did miss a lot of pokemon, didnt have the day and night cycles(or at least not as obvious ones) and had completely scrapped the idea of Online capability which Crystal had dipped its toes in.

However commendable how much crunch and work the workstaff over at Game Freak were willing to put themselves through for Generation 3, one cannot help but wonder, if the entire Development hell couldnt simply have been avoided if they had hired maybe a hundred new people to work on the third generation. after all, the limited manpower undoubtedly contributed to the hell that was the development of Gold and Silver. surely they would have learned from those mistakes and prepared for the next round right? what with the billions they had made from all the pokemon sales, they surely could have afforded it. but they did not. in fact, not only did they not learn anything in regards to the limited manpower they had for Gold and Silver, but they would in fact not learn it from this debacle either. nor would they ever.

After the whole not all pokemon being a thing in Ruby and sapphire, the next few games entire role for existing would be to rectify this, and to game freaks credit, they laid the ground work for this from the beginning, by making sure that a national dex existed in the game which would be unlocked if you transferred over older pokemon that didnt exist in hoenn.

Game Freak themselves then did the remakes of Firered and Leafgreen, which are great games in their own right, but as far as innovation goes, i dont think anyone would argue that they were revolutionary in any way.

instead we turn our eye to another Game, Pokemon Colosseum for the Gamecube, the little Lunchbox that almost could. Pokemon Colosseum was made by Genius Sonority, a VERY small company owned by nintendo and The Pokemon Company. as of this writing, they have around 20 employees, dwarfed by even the modest 140-150 employees Game Freak has. they would be the first to actually challenge Game Freak as Makers of pokemon games.

Colosseum is a truly experimental pokemon game, from the way you catch pokemon, to its protagonist, to its actual difficulty. but in my opinion the thing that makes the game so much different than any other game in the franchise is its sense of idendity. its very different than any other game in the series, being in general rather dark in many ways, with a protagonist that used to be a thief which dealt with stolen pokemon, the mechanics of actually having to steal pokemon to save them from what was done to them, and an unfliching difficulty where the game was not afraid of not pulling its punches. all goes to make it a rather unique pokemon experience.

Sadly, Colosseum was not to reach true mainstream success. while it did the job of filling in the pokemon not covered by Either sapphire and ruby, nor Firered and Leafgreen, this limited array of pokemon had its price. while it was certainly not a failure by any means, and sold well, there is no denying that it simply didnt sell better, nor nearly as well as the regular pokemon games. thus Game Freak did not need to take notice of it. never the less, it was the first challenge to Game Freaks status as the main Creators of pokemon Games. it would take a while before a new contender would arise to credibly challenge them for the throne.

after colosseum, there was pokemon emerald and XD:Gale of Darkness, the sequel to collosseum. Emerald very much feels like crystal. A game where Game Freak got to take it a bit easier and add some stuff they had planned for Sapphire and Ruby, but had to scratch. the fact that they did not add day and night cycles, boggles the mind, but it would probably have been to much work. XD was a good game in its own right, but it simply lacked a lot of what made Colusseum work so well. it very much feels more like a mainstream pokemon game on the big screen, instead of a sequel to probably the game with the most unique idendity in the franchise. it also adds very little new gameplay vise.

after xd and emerald there were no other pokemon Games which werent spin offs in their own sub franchise, like Pokemon Mystery dungeon, before generation 4. which for once didnt have any major problems.

----GENERATION 4----

Generation 4 was a turning point in many ways, but not for the better. it was the first Generation which was developed withouth major problems, except a small delay to put the finishing touches on the game. some might say that is a big development mistep, but i would have said that in a vacum, this would be fine. if this had simply been the only time Game Freak had a bit of time problems, there would be nothing to complain about here. however, taken in context of the history of Game Freak as a whole, the major problem that Game Freak refuses to Expand, despite the fact that their situation very much demands they do so, rings very true here.

other than this small delay though, Generation 4 came along with no hickups. it was critically loved, it was a sales success, and in general was just a great sucess. the problem is that by now, Game Freak had discovered a way of doing things, and as far as they were concerned it worked. Diamond and Pearl being the first time they didnt have an existensial crisis developing a new generation. now the good about this is that they generally did a good job. Gen 4 is just good all around.

innovation vise though, its probably the least impressive of all the generations. unlike gen 2 and 3 it didnt introduce any new types, unlike gen 3 it didnt introduce entierly new ways of battling, and unlike generation 5 it didnt make a ridiculous leap in animation, very much sticking to the old way of doing sprites with just a bit more power.

this was in hindsight a very bad thing, because the great success of Gen 4 established a pattern that would repeat itself over time. namely the lack of innovation to things such as story, character, the way you progressed through the game. everything that was in gen 4 in this regard it had all been established in generation 1-3. The gym system was from gen 1. the evil team also dates back to gen 1, with their grandiose plans being a thing established in gen 3. the post game was established in gen 3 mostly and a bit in gen 2. safari zone from gen 1. casino from gen 1. the event pokemon system(probably the worst mechanic in the franchise) had also not changed much at all, with gen 1 being where it became a mix of pokemon you simply could not capture, and those you needed special items to capture.

in this Light gen 4 is where the pattern really established itself. it might not have been the ones who invented anything going foreward, but it was the ones that hammered out how things would work in almost all games going foreward.

after Diamond and pearl, the next non game freak game to try and contend with the mainstream ones was Battle Revolution, which was a failure of such proportions that it killed the very idea of ever there being more colosseum or stadium type games. the Game Freak Dominance stayed supreme.

following Diamond and Pearl, there was the third game, and remakes. pretty much the same story as the previous time, third game being the first two but better, while the remakes are great games in their own right, but not immensly innovative.

----GENERATION 5----

generation 5 was in many ways a geniune innovative attempt at remaking the franchise. it was also a game that unknowlingly or not, tried to establish itself as a type of successor to Colloseum, but which did not quite pull it off. while the game has an actually good story, it still didnt quite manage to divest itself from the regular pokemon formula the way Colosseum did. while the story was better well told, it was still when it came down to it, just the same beats as the two previous generations.

the big difference of course was N, the most compelling villain in the games so far. he managed to give the game a lot of grandiose which the two previous sets of leaders lacked. unfortunatly, him alone was not quite enough to make the story stand out from all the rest. it was however a great sign of innovation on Game Freaks Part, and it goes to show that at this point there was still a spark in actually wanting to improve the games fundamentals.

going along with a better story, there was also the jump to actually moving sprites, which in my opinion was the best the combat of Pokemon has ever looked. just having the sprites move and the camera being a bit more dynamic made the battles far more alive than any previous mainstream game.

not everything can be a sucess though, and as we see in the triple and rotation based battle, there were also some new concepts which simply didnt work nearly as well as intended. There was also the removal of Contests, which had always been a bit problematic, but rather than trying to fix it, Game Freak instead opted to remove it entierly. this fate would later befall the much better implemented mega Evolutions, but the pattern was already there.

after the Failure of battle revolution, no alternative to Game Freak created Games would arise this generation, which mean that the next games in the series would be the only other core RPG games for the generation. Black and White 2.

Much and more can be said of black and White 2. for one thing, it was a very good sequel to a very good game. it built upon the plot of the previous games, sold well, and while not that innovative in gameplay, none of the third games before it was such, so why should this one be critiqued for that when none of they were?

unfortunatly, this streak would not continue with the next games in the franchise. X and Y.

----GENERATION 6----

now i want to make some things clear. i like X and Y. but other than one single element, and a graphical update, it was probably the generation with the least innovation in story, character, plot and general idendity.

the biggest change was of course Mega Evolution, probably the biggest and best change since double battles. it was a game play mechanic which completely altered the way the game played, both in singles and doubles, as well as breathing new life into many old pokemon.

other than that, there was the jump to full 3d, which was okay, and the game looked nice, as well as being the first game to let you customize your trainer(though not to insane degrees, generally only clothes, hairstyles and color) made the game look far better overall(though i still prefere gen 5′s more dynamic combat.

unfortunatly, that is where the innovation ends. because pretty much everything else is pretty much rehash of older games. 

the evil team is as generic as possible. the main villain is the same as gen 3′s villains, just with a different solution. the plot is pretty much the same as gen 3 and 4. the league mechanics arent different at all from what had come before. the Game traded the 2 interesting rivals from gen 5 for a whole entourage of generic characters who all supposedly served as your rival. the only truly interesting part of the plot was  AZ, a character that was criminally underused, despite a really interesting backstory.

all in all, despite a huge change in gameplay generation 6 is probably as “standard” a pokemon game as there has ever been. following afte X and Y, there would be no third version, a first in pokemon(if one counts white and black 2) but there would be remakes, which as ive said about its predessesors, were good games in their own right, but not terribly innovative(other than having better flying than any game that came before it.). after that however, there were no other major games until the seventh generation.

----GENERATION 7 and Onwards----

there is so much good to say about generation 7 that im generally not gonna delve into it here. what i will focus on, is that what made generation 7 so innovative, was that it pretty much just took the standard pokemon guidebook, and threw it out the window, for better or worse. this has lead to a game that is truely different than the previous games, but also not quite a true successor to them. this is probably best shown in that generation 8 didnt want to follow up on the direction 7 put foreward, and instead went back to the older style.

this is not to say that generation 8 was bad by any means, but that it was never going to be the next step. it was an experiment to see how far you could stretch the boundary of the mainstream pokemon games away fromt he standard, and while it had elements that should have carried on over, it was never gonna be the definite way pokemon games would go foreward.

so after such a drastic change of pace, we only have to ask one simple question. WHAT. THE. HELL. HAPPENED?

after Sun and moon was released, the follow up was Ultra sun and moon, which was just the previous game with slight changes. it was for all intents and purposes a reskin. no third version even comes close to how much a cash grab it was.

so what the hell happened after the release of sun and moon? two words. Pokemon GO.

Pokemon Go was the first real challenge to Game Freaks exclusivity over the mainstream Pokemon RPG experience since colosseum way over a decade ago, and to say it was a bit more successful, would be like saying the mongol empire killed a few people.

Pokemon GO, or rather the way Game Freak has reacted to it, completely changed the way the pokemon franchsie would go foreward. At the time of this Writing, Pokemon GO is responsible for around 5% of the entire pokemon franchise earnings. it is to put it simply, a massive and insane success.

which is what has lead to a massive problem for Game Freak, as they have come to the rather disturbing conclusion that they can be replaced. the success of Pokemon GO has killed the myth that Pokemon Needs game freak to succed going foreward, and the stark realisation that there is literarly nothign stopping nintendo and the Pokemon Company from handing the franchise over to the hands of some other team.

the ownership of pokemon is a complicated mess between nintendo, Creatures INC, the pokemon Company and Game Freak, but the base line, is that nintendo owns it. they can hand over the franchise to any company they want if they so desire.

this is why when the time came for a sequel to sun and moon, the absolute cheapest alternative was taken. because Game Freak needed to move on to other projects.

One would think that this would mean that they would pump all their effort into making the newest Pokemon Games. alas, that is not the case, instead they sent the A Team of Game Freak over to work at an entierly new Game called The Town. this is an insane move, as they are at a critical point in regards to pokemon games going foreward. but when taken from Game Freaks point of view it makes sense. as they are desperate to prove to nintendo that they can in fact make other games than pokemon, and that even if they dont get to make more of them, they are still a valuable company under their umbrella.

again, from a purely business perspective this makes sense. from every other perspective its insane. having an already miniscule manpower pool to draw from, Game Freak cannot afford to majorly split their resources for any single major release. yet that is exactly what they are doing. 

Every bad decision taken by game freak in regards to Sword and Shield, every corner cut, every single decision, is to make this game as playable as it can be, with the miniscule amount of probably 70 or so people working on it. hence the lackluster animation, primitive looking trees, load times, the cutting of around 60% of the total amount of pokemon from previous games, the removal of mega evolutions in favor of the much simplier Dynamax.

all to get this game out knowing from experience that as long as its a standard Pokemon Game it will probably be a great success.

this hole however, is entierly their own fault. the one big release a year, could easily have been made drastically easier, if they hired a hundred people and made them exclusively devoted to the extra releases while Game Freak as a whole could focus exclusively on their big games. instead, they dug in their heels, and refused to expand on their business, even though it was clear all the way back in generation 2, that change needed to happen. that their current way of doing things simply didnt work.

the rest of the industry changed to cope with the changing market. some embraced DLC, some decided that mmo style was the only way to go, Even Nintendo themselves is finally embracing the concept of DLC, Patches, online multiplayer in large scale and so on.

Game Freak however is still operating like its the early 1990′s and they are still a small studio with no big demands on them, which they can handle on their own. they purposefully ignored the lessons that they should have learned in generation 2 and 3, namely that they needed to expand and build better infrastructure. instead they have stubbornly refused to change, until now when they fully willing to cleave their own franchise into pieces, when simply embracing the concept of a Patch or Two would have solved all their problems.

[purplesurveys]

564

You hate these 'Are we alike?' surveys, but you still can't resist them. I don’t hate them, I just don’t like just bolding stuff. I get talkative when it comes to surveys so I like explaining myself, like right now haha. I definitely answer these types much less often, though. You are female. Indeed I am. You are eighteen years of age. I’m three years older than that. Your hair is an unnatural (but tasteful) shade of red. It’s black, and I’ve never dyed it red either. You have brown eyes. It’s either black or very dark brown, because I’m not sure if black eyes are actually a thing.

You are single. Nah and haven’t been in a while. You have one older brother. Nope, I’m the eldest in the immediate family and I’m a sister to two siblings. You are third generation Russian and Polish. I’m quite sure there is zero tinge of both bloods in me. You live in Florida. And I also live way too far from Florida. I don’t think we’re much alike, man lol. ^And it is just way too fucking hot for you. Not at the moment. Christmas weather is approaching fast, so I can actually go nights without turning on the aircon now. You are currently waiting to get a piercing. Nope. Terrified of them. You have lots of tattoos already planned out. I don’t have any design ideas other than my dog’s pawprint and a plate of nachos. You write, but don't really consider yourself a 'writer'. If I did, it would probably be an insult to writers. I’m not always confident about my writing, even though I love to do it. You love photography (and not because it's 'popular' these days). I respect the skill and the profession, but I don’t do it myself. I used to try out my hand in it though precisely because it was popular, but that was like nine years ago; I quickly realized I wasn’t any good at holding a camera. You drink tea and coffee on a regular basis. I don’t drink tea and I probably drink coffee 1-2 times a week only.

Gore generally makes you laugh. I try not to laugh at it because I know artists spend a fuckton of time working on making it look legitimate (not related to gore but I felt bad when a bunch of fans called out Bryan Cranston’s bald cap in the El Camino movie, especially knowing that Greg Nicotero, AKA dude who works on the makeup in The Walking Dead, was in the team who made the cap. They did what they could and it highkey looks pretty good, but some fans are just brutal); but if the gore was intentionally corny or bad, then I might laugh.

You basically write down everything because you're afraid you'll forget. Yep, that’s why my Notes app is a list of the most random shit. You're a 'highschool drop-out'. No, I graduated. ^And you're currently working towards your GED. We don’t have that here; I don’t actually know what that means. Am open to anyone explaining it to me! Hahaha You don't really care what anyone thinks about you. Of course I care. But it only matters most when the opinions come from the people close to me. You Tweet excessively and shamelessly. I was definitely more obsessed before (I would probably do 150-200 tweets a day and the website would usually kick me out for an hour for tweeting too much). But I mellowed down over the years when I realized making Twitter my life was a horrible habit and that I needed to get off my laptop lol. I still have the app open all day long, but I do more lurking than posting tweets.

It bothers you that almost every statement on this thing begins with 'you'. It’s supposed to be an are-we-alike survey so I don’t see why that trend should be a problem. Winter is your favorite season. Which is weird because I’ve never experienced it. But based on everyone’s stories about how winter is in their area, it sounds beautiful. You know every word to Badlands by Bruce Springsteen. I have never heard a single note of that song. ^And you're not ashamed to admit it. c: You're afraid to go to sleep most nights. Nah. I’m RELIEVED to sleep every night, especially after a long day lmao You have a blog and you're not afraid to use it. :D This is my blog. I’m not afraid to use it but I definitely am cautious about anyone in real life finding out about it. 'Cheesy', 'dorky', 'weird' and 'freaky' are all terms that apply to you. I’m sure everyone identifies with at least one of these words. You are not religious. That I am not. There was a very VERY brief moment when I was ~17 that I went back to my Catholic roots but that fizzled out quickly once I got to college. ^You are spiritual. No. You can't resist making your mom jokes. They’re old, cheap, and unfunny. Except for the White Chick ones HAHAHA ^Or 'that's what she said' jokes. These are even worse. You have a minor obsession with travel-sized objects. Not really. Hades is a BAMF. <3 Like, Percy Jackson-Hades? Idk, I’ve never seen the movie. ^You actually know who Hades is. (Lawlz.) ^ That’s the only Hades I know. You plan on getting two kittens and naming them Hades and Apollo. I don’t plan on getting kittens, and boy these statements are starting to get real specific that no one else is most likely to relate to them lmao. Serial killers never cease to both amaze and fascinate you. I mean I don’t glorify them in the way you just worded it, but I am interested in reading about them. You have a thing for anything vintage or gothic. Before, I guess. Not so much nowadays. You don't have a lot of patience for stupid people. For stupid drivers, mainly. You tell your fair share of racist jokes. ??? This is one of your are-we-alikes????????? You think neck tattoos are sexyy. I find them neither sexy nor unsexy, but I do inwardly cringe because I always imagine just how much it would have hurt to have had it made, especially tattoos on the throat. You want a mosh pit at your wedding. :D Hell no. 14 year old, punk rocking, headbanging Robyn may have wanted that, but I’m so glad she grew up over the years. The Black Cat by Edgar Allen Poe made you cry. I don’t think I’ve ever read it. You get showtunes stuck in your head on a daily basis. I don’t like that kind of music. You eat emo kids for breakfast. Ok now this is just awful. ^And then follow up with a helping of scene kids for lunch. What the hell does eating emo and scene kids even supposed to mean? You secretly want to become a zombie-human hybrid. I’ve seen enough The Walking Dead to not want this scenario for myself. You strongly believe in peace through superior firepower. No.  You hate hippies. Also no. You actually take the time to look up words you don't know the meanings to. Sure. Googling literally takes five seconds, sometimes fewer. You have a habit of calling everything 'ridiculous'. I like using it as an adverb but I wouldn’t call it a habit.

You love Skwisgaar from Metalocalypse. :D Never heard of both of those things. You wish to invest in a pair of plaid pants. Not my style. You love scaring people--literally and figuratively. Not really. You hate the Fourth of July. I don’t celebrate it so I don’t have reason to hate it. You get excited over new pens and notebooks. That’s being a college student for ya.

^And basically any other kind of art supplies. I guess, but pens and notebooks excite me most. You have a thing for Mustangs. (The car, not the horse.) No. In the Philippines, Mustangs are the most basic of luxury cars so I’ve stopped being impressed when I see them around hahaha. You shamelessly jam to 'Don't Stop Believing' every chance you get. No. You think boundaries are overrated. :D No, they’re necessary. You rarely drink soda. I hate the feeling when it goes down my throat. You always procrastinate until the very last possible minute. For certain work that I particularly don’t like doing. Your favorite font on Microsoft Word is 'calibri'. It’s far from my favorite. You enjoy talking in various fake accents. I can’t do accents. The only time you ever thought Brad Pitt was sexy was when he was in 'Troy' I haven’t seen much of his stuff but I find him very attractive in general. You can make the fuck out of some brownies. c: I don’t bake. You don't do well with change. Sometimes. You always listen to music before going to sleep. I don’t; I find it too loud. You thought this was gay. Ugh, this is awful. ^And you now want to lodge a battle axe into my brain. I’m not THAT violent.

[jojotier]

The Next ONE Manga

“Our top story- children all over the region are coming down with a strange epidemic of tummy aches.” The perky news anchor on screen said, gesturing vaguely to a screen where a cartoonish diagram depicting a lot of frowny faces over a map of Sado Island. “The outbreak began just last night…”

Tsukishima rubbed his head, feeling around the counter for wherever the hell that pill bottle had rolled off to. He should also find the remote, while he was at it… The volume on the tv was too damn loud for this time in the afternoon. And too damn loud for the pounding between his ears.

He managed to reach the aspirin and water, downing two pills and slightly metallic water. It tasted pretty bad, admittedly, but he didn’t really have the energy to dig anything out of the fridge. Besides, he had coffee brewing- or really, his hangover cure for the day. Jesus, why the hell did he let Koito talk him into…

His attention drifted back to the news, passively taking it in until one phrase struck him. “... and it appears that mysterious sightings of cupcakes all over the area are to blame.” Cupcakes… Why did that sound… a little familiar.

“Last night, hundreds of colorfully frosted cupcakes appeared all over town, Easter themed. Many of the afflicted children described eating at least one before, hours later, coming down with their unfortunate present illness. Local hospitals say that nothing was inherently wrong with the confections- only that they’d been baked with wildly inconsistent measures of sugar and butter, overloading many sweet tooths in the area.

“Local parents and grandparents, however, are outraged. Many are calling this a deliberate poisoning, while others are coming forward with accounts of other food-related acts of villainy.”

The camera panned to one woman, identified by the text at the bottom as Ienaga Kano. In one hand, she held a very familiarly frosted cupcake with a crooked rabbit ear with disdain. “I was babysitting my little nephew earlier when I found him nibbling on this- atrocity! These gaudy things were just left every which way around the park, on benches… it’s inescapable. It’s the demands of the PTA of greater Sado that these menaces be brought to justice-”

And then it clicked.

Tsukishima cursed as he fumbled with the glass momentarily, setting it down at the counter and quickly walking around the little wall divider between the kitchen and living room. On the couch in front of the television, one Koito Otonoshin lay sprawled out every which way, one leg dangling off the side of the couch while the other was hooked on the back of it. His face was smushed into his sleeve and the couch cushion. There was an almost inconceivable amount of drool.

“Koito- dammit, Koito,” Tsukishima hissed out through his clenched teeth, shaking Koito’s shoulder.

“Huhhhuabbitiba…” Koito mumbled, burying his face slightly more into the small drool puddle. All of that was, of course, utter fucking nonsense. Normally Tsukishima would take that as his cue to leave Koito be and maybe grab a blanket, but it was kind of urgent,

He shook him harder, hissing out, “ KOITO.” He managed to duck out the way of a swinging arm as Koito gave a screech, cracking with the disuse of a voice that had been resting, and shot up like a bullet.

“Tsukishimaaaaaaaaa,” Koito whined, glaring daggers at him. “What the HELLooowwwwwww owowowow ow ow,” He clutched his aching head, eyes screwing shut against the light. Tsukishima would have chalked it up to karma, if not for the fact that they had way too many empty alcohol bottles in the kitchen to ignore another, far more plausible possibility.

“Shut up for five seconds and look at the damn news,” Tsukishima mumbled, head turning back to the screen. It looks like it’d conveniently gone to commercial while Tsukishima was dealing with Koito, but now, it was coming back on.

“... and there were no survivors.”

Tsukishima’s heart stopped. It was deathly silent for a moment as the newscaster stared back from the screen as if taunting them. Even Koito had gone still, shocked.

“... And that’s the tragic end to No Survivors, the new horror comedy collaboration between Junji *** and *iro**k* Arak*.”

Tsukishima blew out a relieved breath all at once, hand instinctively pushing against his heart. Christ… It was going to be bad enough on his conscience that his own drunken actions had apparently led to a bunch of kids getting sick. If any of them had actually died… Koito slumped down, a shaky laugh coming from him as he asked, “What- was that all-?”

And then as if to taunt them further, the reporter said, “And now back to the cupcake story- we have several eyewitness accounts stating that they saw a tall, spindly man placing the cupcakes all over the city, speaking in tongues…”

Tsukishima slowly turned to Koito, staring. Koito stared back, face slowly losing color faster than an inconsistent mangaka could lighten dark skin over 150 chapters in. “I thought,” Tsukishima said calmly, knowing full well that he was still processing everything because otherwise- if he weren’t- he’d likely be far angrier, “you agreed you were going to throw those cupcakes away.”

“I-!” Koito choked on a breath and some satsumaben before coughing, managing to get out through gritted teeth, “I know- I thought maybe you meant that you just needed to be rid of them?! Recycling technically counts-”

“No. No, it does not.” Tsukishima flatly said, eye twitching gently. “I said throw them away- there were too many. And what in the hell did you do?”

“Don’t blame this all on me!!” Koito nearly hollered, fingers twisting into the couch cushions. He pointed at Tsukishima accusatorily, “Besides, YOU’RE the one who made all those cupcakes in the first place!! Why the hell weren’t you paying attention to what you were putting in them, huh?! What if you accidentally replaced the salt with sugar or something?! I’M NOT the only one-”

“I know damn well you aren’t accusing me when I was drunk,” Tsukishima ran a long-suffering hand down his face. “Because of, might I remind you, your goddamn insistence that we drink some chardonnay. I don’t even like wine!”

“Well YOUR shit taste isn’t MY problem, now IS it!” Koito shouted back, sitting up straighter so that he could channel his energy into aggressively gesturing with his hands. “Besides!! That didn’t stop you from drinking it all last night!! That was my last goddamn bottle- do you have any idea how hard it is to get when I’m not with my father?! Ridiculously hard!”

“You INSISTED on a drinking contest to see which of us would buy a new bottle,” Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing that this bickering wasn’t going anywhere and wasn’t really addressing the topic at hand. “Look- that’s not the point. Last night happened, and we may have made several mutual mistakes that just so happened to escalate into a long series of regrettable choices. Happens to every college student, probably. We just need to calm down and think through this-”

“YOU’RE NOT EVEN IN COLLEGE ANYMORE- that’s the POINT.” Koito groaned loudly as he flopped backward, banging his head against the arm of the couch and hissing out a pained breath because of it.

Tsukishima’s lips pressed into a thin line as he said, “Alright. Noted. Just make sure they didn’t catch any video of you on the news.” He turned to go back to the kitchen. “I’m making coffee. Do you want-”

Just as Koito seemed to want to interrupt, there was an insistent buzz at the door. They both glanced at the door as the buzzing overlapped as the doorbell to their shitty little apartment was pressed again. Koito eventually said, “Well? You’re already up- you may as well see who the hell is bothering us.”

“If it’s the police, I’m not hiding you.” Tsukishima deadpanned as he walked to the door, peering out of the peephole. “... Huh.”

“Huh what?” Koito lazily asked, pouting like a fucking infant on their couch.

“It’s Enonoka.” Tsukishima said, somewhat bewildered.

Koito sat up again, turning his body towards the door. “Huh. That is odd… She’s still on break, so she shouldn’t be here for tutoring… and I didn’t think her English teacher gave homework…”

“Yeah.” Tsukishima’s eyebrows furrowed as he stepped back and opened the door. “Hello, Eno…” He trailed off as his eyes landed on the spot where Enonoka had just been standing a few seconds ago. When he pulled the door open, she wasn’t there anymore. He blinked and poked his head, looking down either side of the hallways to see if he could catch a glimpse of her running away. Odd…

He glanced over his shoulder, saying, “She’s not there- I guess she ran…” Then, Tsukishima noticed Koito turned towards the back of the couch, rigidly sitting with wide eyes raised towards the kitchen. “Hey? What are you-”

“H,” Koito wheezed out, mouthing something before just giving up and pointing frantically in the direction that he was looking. Tsukishima raised his eyes, and his gaze met Enonoka’s.

She was already inside the apartment, sitting on the divider between the living room and kitchen.

“...” Tsukishima quickly turned back to the front door and opened it, peering out. Then he turned his attention back inside. Enonoka waved from the counter. Well, that was weird. But nothing was really setting off any true alarm bells- after all, she was just a child. It’d be dumb to be intimidated by her. “Hello, Enonoka. … How’d you get into our house?”

“Oh, you know,” Enonoka said, failing to elaborate on what they knew. Tsukishima closed the door. She swung her legs a bit, pointing at the news. “I guess you know the rumors, huh?”

“Rumors?” Tsukishima asked with some disdain. God, it couldn’t have been more than twelve hours… how were there already rumors? Surely they couldn’t be about them- it didn’t seem like anyone had caught a good look at Koito, barring their little next door neighbor, perhaps- which meant she might have seen Koito. Oh, dammit.

“They say there’s a supervillain around town- fun, right?” Enonoka said. Tsukishima sighed, leaning against the door. “They say he’s made of a bundle of living noodles in the shape of a man and uses his sweet sauce tentacles to mind control kids into eating his sweets.”

Well, Tsukishima couldn’t fault whoever started the rumors on their apparent imagination. “Sounds a bit farfetched… don’t you think?”

“Of course it’s farfetched.” Enonoka assured. “I’m not an idiot. I know what’s going on.”

Tsukishima sighed. So she likely had seen… “Listen… it really isn’t all that you think it is. Koito didn’t-”

“Oh, I know it wasn’t Mr. Koito,” Enonoka said confidently. “Are you kidding me? He’s not made of noodles or anything.” Koito wasn’t looking any less tense though, gesturing at Enonoka as he tried to mouth something at Tsukishima. Tsukishima couldn’t read lips very well, but maybe he was saying something like… powder? Did they leave the powdered sugar out? Crap, the kitchen was still a mess… Koito was probably reminding him that she was sitting on a very dirty counter. God… how embarrassing. Tsukishima hadn’t even had the time to clean…

Then, Enonoka pointed at Tsukishima. “You’re the mastermind.”

“Ah…” The misunderstanding just seemed to deepen. “I guess in a sense, but it really isn’t-”

“I knew it! And you know too, right?” Enonoka said, eyes gleaming with some excitement. “Which is why you’re denying it. Don’t worry, Mr. Tsukishima- people will be sure to believe you.”

“I should hope so- I’m trying to tell you the truth,” Tsukishima tried to continue.

“It’s okay- I already know!! That’s why I’m here.” Enonoka said, practically vibrating in her spot. She was mature for her age and intelligent… but Tsukishima guessed that this was still just a kid thing, whatever game was being played. “Don’t you get it, Mr. Tsukishima?”

“Get what?” Tsukishima asked, taking a step closer as he decided to humor the child a bit. Koito finally seemed to shake himself from his flabbergasted state, trying to tell Tsukishima to wait- but Enonoka was already knocking two of the empty bottles off of the counter. Shit- if those hit the ground, it’d be a damn minefield if Enonoka tried to jump down! What the hell, kid?

Lunging forward, Tsukishima tried to catch onto the falling bottles when suddenly, they weren’t falling at all. He paused, watching them freeze mid air… and then reverse their trajectory back upwards, onto the counter where they had been sitting untouched moments before.

“... Huh.” was all Tsukishima could get out, uncomprehending.

“That’s my power, Mr. Tsukishima- I think it could really help you,” Enonoka said, eyes twinkling. Tsukishima slowly straightened up, looking to the child as in the blink of an eye, she was standing on the floor in front of him, looking up in determination. Enonoka pointed at Tsukishima, eyes blazing with intensity.

“You need to teach me how to be a villain!”

(Sometimes........... things are better................................ without context)

[purplepersnicketywrites]

wow many wip's do you have at the moment?

*sweats* okay.

okay, listen… I just counted and there’s like 13… 14 if you count Blood of my Hand as a WIP ‘cause it’s still in progress.

RIGHT SO:

In Space, Nobody Can Hear You Explode:The Space!AU that i’m still in love with. my muse has shelved it for now, though. I’m thinking I might take the first part I wrote and publish it anyway and have it at like, a series of one-shots instead of one big fic thing? maybe? i think? anyway it’d be a Kiribaku-focused AU featuring aliens! biomechanical augmentation! spaceships! adventure! romance! traumatised Bakugou! and explosions!

Magic Band AU: like, a band AU but playing instruments does like.… magic. … . there would be like a battle of the bands kind of thing? definitely kiribaku……

Love Notes midquel/sequel thing: How on earth did the class fail to see that Kiri and Baku were dating for SIX MONTHS. well. turns out there was a lot more drama than anticipated. i’m 150 words away from 10k on this thing already and it’s consuming all my waking thoughts. i need to get it out of my system so i can return to BomH. there’s a lot of cute in this fic and i’m giving myself cavities.

Cranky-rishima Part 3: Several years after the events(? panic and smooching count as events i guess) of Doubt, during a reunion dinner, Class A get caught in a targetted quirk attack. It’s a real nightmare trying to get them out. I have a really fun broad outline for this. it’s gonna be a fucking trip.

Actors for a TV Show AU: This is real BARE BONES of a plan right now but LISTEN IT’S KRBK. LISTEN. THEY PLAY TWO CHARACTERS ON A SHOW WHO ARE FAKE DATING. IT’S FAKE FAKE DATING I CAN’T WAIT TO RUN DOWN THIS RABBIT HOLE

Actors for a Broadway Musical AU: the musical is the fantasy au! featuring Smug Bakugou who’s way too pleased with himself for landing the hot gay antihero role, and a newbie to the showbiz world Kirishima who thinks he’s insufferable but has to play his love interest anyway because holy shit this is his breakout role and WHOOPS THEY FALL IN LOVE

Noise AU: i have less than a whisper of an idea for this but the Chaos Walking books are one of my favourite damn things and i desperately want to write with the concept of the Noise. with krbk it would be SO FUCKING INTERESTING but i’m still tryin to work out how it would work ‘cause like, i don’t want it to be a crossover, per se? i just want the Noise hhhh

Everyone Knows That Cats Are Independent Sequel: Krbk finally go on their first date, Kiri visits the Lab Full Of Explosive Things at last with his Firebreathing Daemon. We find out who Mina’s Train Girl is. Kaminari and Jirou are acting strangely. I have a shining vision in my head but have written nothing here yet and I need to finish some other things before I do haha.

Meld: Bakugou and Kirishima are hit with a bodysharing quirk and a villain gets away. Their bodies were melded together, which is weird and awkward for everyone involved. Then… their minds start to meld too. Can the villain who did this be tracked down and made to reverse this? Or will they slowly begin to lose their own sense of selves, their individuality, and become someone different altogether? I’m not sure if I’ll actually end up writing this. Might be too angsty for my usual stuff. Would probably classify it as at least mild horror, too.

Guardian Angel AU: Kirishima nearly dies, but he’s saved by a (really hot) guardian angel with a surprisingly foul tongue. A (really hot) guardian angel who doesn’t seem to know what to do because Kirishima can see him, and that’s not in the shitty guardian angel manual he was given before he was forced to take this job if he wants to go back to being mortal. There’s gonna be like, curses? and weird stuff? magical things? but i think this is gonna be a funny one.

Drowning is Silent: idk man i just had the title come to me in the dead of night. haven’t decided what it’s about yet but?? maybe some focus on Bakugou’s claustrophobia??? idk yet, maybe it’s gonna be a title for something to do with In Space, Nobody Can Hear You Explode?? does this count as a WIP?

Third Wheel: pro-hero days fic. The Bakusquad decide that ENOUGH IS ENOUGH and Baku and Kiri need to get together already. cue shenanigans as they try desperately not to be third wheels. FUN TIMES AHEAD.

Chatfic: it’s a chatfic? ?? ? it sort of turned into a ‘Bakugou Deals With Being Ace, and Also Krbk Will Happen’ story so i guess that’s my plot. i’m still working on like, ,, , plot details but i have about 8k words sunk into this and i’m torturing myself because i think I’m going to have to add timestamps to keep the order of things clear

So that’s that i guess! anyone wanna hear more details for any of ‘em?