#which is why we switched. Because why bother with the name brand if it was going to be meh
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death-rebirth-senshi · 8 months ago
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One of the litterboxes I JUST cleaned out and replaced the litter in is already not clumping. Do I just end it all now.
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thewolfisawake · 1 year ago
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I lost the fight to add more details to already detail heavy stuff. But here we are. Anyway, Balmoral has a tattoo, more like an etching on his wrist. It is delicate brambles or vines that circles it. However, it is not truly a tattoo. It is a brand of sorts. This is actually part of the reason that a certain marriage tradition fell out of fashion. Because the oaths/pacts made when the tattoos were made were repurposed by brothels as a means of binding their courtesans to their home. The one Balmoral was in was no different.
He was not a true courtesan to the establishment but he was their property and thus given this as a means to keep him from really running off. This 'oath' was made with his true name so he had no real means of resisting it. He knew that it would be removed when he was going to sold to whatever house paid for him. Only after his disobedience, there was chance they would not remove it and only transfer it to whatever owner there was. He would never be free of it. However, he found an itty bitty little loophole that basically the 'oath' was useless if one party was dead. And that's what he did.
However because no one was alive, the physical proof of it having happened could not come off. So he just hid it for quite a while. His clothes and bandages covered them when he was younger. He did bandages, a bandana, or slightly different gloves when he served in the militia. He did switch to like bracelets for a while since it was a gift that seemed to like showing up when he was schmoozing. But at his current, Balmoral doesn't bother with covering it anymore.
Part because he's older and no one would know what it is anymore (most just think it's his eccentricity again). Part because he made it synonymous with some of his power. When he manipulates the dark (as apart of his heaven aspect), it looks like brambles and seems to ooze from this mark. So if for some reason someone on the receiving end of his fight lived...they're probably terrified of that mark. Although he does tend to cover it up either with his true form or some finery if he were doing something official. Especially with foreign dignitaries. It's not so much because of any shame but more so because he doesn't like repeating himself and regaling whatever story he came up with for it.
--
The other detail is that pretty much outside of going to bed or in the baths, Balmoral wears this...thread in his hair. It's thicker than a strand of hair but it is much thinner than a braid. So it can easily be mistaken as a glint mistaken in his hair. But this thread is thin woven thread is one that is dyed a particular shade. One honestly Balmoral doesn't think he has 'quite right.'
The thread is a deep red yet what it is woven with gives it a shine to it. It would be like 'a spider's silk with the morning dew upon it.' Which is likely the glint that is caught. His usual excuse is simply that he likes it. Ever the eccentric, no one really questions it. However there is a truth behind it.
Because of the combination of his own heritage and powers...Balmoral views fates as threads. All beings--at least sentient ones--possess a thread. Most are pale or even colorless. However fateweavers are very vibrant, which is why it is easy for him to understand one present. Unsurprisingly to many, the thread he wears is a similar appearance to the thread color of his lover, Mhoirbheinn. He was really taken by the color but doesn't think the color looks all that great on him. So he does a small piece like that and is content with that.
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purplesurveys · 2 years ago
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1686
Do you prefer bar or liquid soap? Liquid, I guess, but it’s nowhere near being a passionate preference.
What's the speed limit on your street? I’m not actually sure but probably like 10 kph max. It’s a narrow street and a kid or pet could come running out of their house’s gate any second.
When was the last time you wore your favourite article of clothing? I don’t really have a favorite one.
Do any of your family members have an upcoming birthday? The next one is my mom’s in September.
On a scale of 1-5, 5 being the best, rate your last kiss. 0, It was a nothing kiss at that point, but I didn’t feel so at the time which to me makes it even worse.
What is your favourite flavour of Jolly Ranchers? I’ve never had those.
Where was your Facebook profile picture taken? Somewhere in Zambales.
Do your parents smoke? Neither of them do.
Would you rather bake cookies or a potato? Cookies.
Who was the last person to stay the night at your house? Reena on my last birthday.
Do you live close to a park? Private, tiny subdivision parks, yeah. Those barely count as anything though.
Is your favourite animal endangered? One of them is.
Have you eaten pizza in the last week? I haven’t. I did buy pizza-flavored Pringles here in Thailand the other night but I haven’t had pizza here yet. I don’t think I’ll have the time to do so either.
Who was the last person you added to your contacts list? I have no clue; I never add people to my contacts anymore. Since I greet people with “Hi [name]!” anyway I always know whose number I’m texting even if I don’t designate a nickname for them anymore.
How long does it take you to shower? Around 10-13 minutes. I’m usually able to finish a whole vlog in the shower, no more no less haha.
Do you prefer a brand of bottled water over others, or is it all the same? I don’t drink bottled water enough to have a favorite brand, but yes I do prefer certain brands over others because the taste difference can be super blatant.
Have you used Wikipedia today? I don’t think I have today.
Are you better at writing fiction or non-fiction? Non-fiction.
Do you know anyone who has moved to a different state? I know very few people who’ve moved out from Manila to the province. People do the opposite like 90% of the time, but moving to the province happens too although a lot more rarely.
How many pens can you see from where you’re sitting? There aren’t any.
Have you ever dated someone one grade/year above or below you? Nope.
What language do you think you’d be good at? Not sure, maybe Spanish. I have a decent handle of the language from the colonization anyway. :) What language do you think you’d fail at? Any Chinese language.
Do you still have a landline phone at your house? Yup, my grandma still calls via landline so we keep it.
What is your current desktop background? BTS.
How big is the television you last watched? No idea, it’s an Airbnb TV and I can’t be bothered to ask about the specs.
Have you ever been stung by a bee or a wasp? Nopes.
How many schools have you been to in your lifetime? Just two; I stayed in one school from kinder to high school and only switched when it was time to go to college.
What is the middle name of the last person you texted? Her middle name is her nickname, so Angela.
Are you of legal age in your country? Yep, I think 25 is legal everywhere?
Why did you last visit a doctor? Needed to get my braces readjusted.
Would you prefer an ice cream cake or a regular cake? Pass for the most part, but fine I’ll go for the regular. I don’t understand ice cream cakes. Why get a cake that, like, disappears?
How old is your best friend? She’s turning 25 this year.
What is/was your high school’s mascot? Both of the schools I attended don’t have one.
Do you carry pain relievers with you at all times? Nope.
Where is your mother right now? She’s in Siquijor vacationing with my dad.
What was the last thing to make you smile? This nice lady who was helping me get back into our Airbnb room without the building cat entering through the door. I think she’s the one who runs the laundry shop attached to this very Airbnb.
Are you currently saving up for anything? Not right now but the moment I land back in Manila I most definitely will have to save in general because I went balls to the wall crazy with the shopping.
What’s the view like from your bedroom window? An abandoned house on the right, two very quiet houses behind, some trees.
Generally speaking, do you prefer sweet or savoury? Savory. I don’t like desserts.
What would you do if you got home and you saw your house had been destroyed? Depends. Destroyed by a fire? Was it trashed and some shit got stolen? Did Agi tear off all the tissue rolls? Idk I could either have a panic attack, cry, get angry, be frantic, or anything else depending on what the house looks like.
When did you last go outside, and what for? I wanted to look for a cafe here in our neighborhood area in Bangkok and found one on Maps, so I tried walking to it but when I got there there was nothing :( So I just went back to our Airbnb since I don’t want to wander too far all alone.
Who is your favourite Sesame Street character? I didn’t really have a favorite but if you asked me now I would probably go with either Cookie Monster or Bert.
How often do you check your emails? Only when I’m on shift.
Do you have any plans for this Thanksgiving? I don’t celebrate that.
What colour is your backpack? I don’t use a backpack anymore but my main handbag is brown.
Would you slap the last person you talked to for twenty dollars? No.
What search engine do you usually use? Google.
How much did the shirt you’re wearing cost? No clue, my mom got this for me hoping I’d use it in Thailand. And now I am :)
Patrick Stump or Pete Wentz? I never preferred one of them over the other.
Do you know anyone who gives way too many hugs? A little bit, yeah.
What time do you usually wake up on Sundays? 8 AM.
Have you whispered today? I don’t think I have.
What grade did you get on the last test you took? The last kind of anything I was graded on was like this writing workshop for work where we were given a prompt and we got a seasoned journalist come in to review each of our works...anyway, I got like a 48/50.
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jimblejamblewritings · 3 years ago
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what we were, what we are | part 1.
Summary: The worst thing that ever happened to Y/N Lupin was getting sent to Azkaban for a crime she didn’t commit. The second worst thing was when she got out on parole and not because her name was cleared. Trying to get her life back proves difficult when everyone has moved on into the present while she only has memories of the past.
Warnings for the Series: angst, smut
Pairing: james potter x black!reader, james potter x lupin!reader, sirius black x black!reader, sirius black x lupin!reader
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: Uh, yeah, I still think tumblr fic is dying or no one’s paying attention to my work anymore which is why I haven’t finished the others but still this called to me so I’m writing it. I won’t tag my normal taglist unless y’all want it. Also I don’t know if it’ll be James or Sirius as the love interest yet.
(Series Masterlist)
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The worst thing Dumbledore could have done was give a job to the three Marauders that were still alive, McGonagall was sure of it. James was the best Transfiguration assistant professor, Sirius was wonderful for Duelling Club and Muggle Studies, and Remus might have been the best Charms professor that she had ever seen. Of course, it was a shame that they had to switch him to Defense Against the Dark Arts. But after Quirrell and Lockhart, they needed more time to find a proper professor. If Lily wasn’t married to her job in the Ministry then maybe her husband and child could’ve persuaded her to take the teaching job for just a year or two.  
The only thing worse than hiring three Marauders was hiring (Y/N) Lupin. Every member of staff, including her own brother, told Dumbledore such over the summer meeting before school’s start. Severus rolled up the sleeve of his black robe.
“I didn’t spy for you and let them brand me a Death Eater for you to invite her right in. You know this was her idea? She said so we wouldn’t be caught. These don’t fade easily,” he sneered.
“Are we supposed to forget she tried to have the Longbottoms killed? Frank and Alice barely escaped with their lives,” James spoke up. “How is she even getting out? She killed Wormtail and some muggles.”
Dumbledore let them continue protesting until they ran themselves out. Adjusting his spectacles, he looked at all of them.
“I do not know much of the details, only that the Ministry seems to have entered a plea deal of sorts with Mrs. Pott— Ms. Lupin,” he corrected himself after the look from James. “She can be watched at Hogwarts while carrying out whatever they need.”
No professor bothered arguing anymore. It was clear that this wasn’t Dumbledore’s choosing as he told them everything he knew. With the threat of Voldemort getting larger, it was necessary for the Ministry to step up the hunt. Auror Moody had suggested it. Letting (Y/N) Lupin out on probation as long as she helped them at least establish contact with Death Eaters and maybe even Voldemort.
Only a few years ago, you had been a spy with the Order. Fresh out of Hogwarts, you and the others were eager to join the fight against the Dark Lord. You were on their side… or that was what they thought. That was what you knew. You weren’t sure how you had been so stupid to not think Peter would have pulled a trick the minute you discovered his true intentions. But none of it mattered. You were still at the crime scene that night and he was gone. No one bothered to listen to your words. You were labeled a criminal, a follower of Voldemort, and whisked away to Azkaban.
Of course you had taken the plea deal when it was presented to you. You would have done anything to get out of Azkaban, fearing that a few more months and you’d go properly insane. It didn’t matter that you weren’t even sure how to get in contact with the Death Eaters that you had spent months pretending to be. Maybe one of them would get into contact with you? After all, you had never been found out.
You pulled down on the sleeve of your sweater to hide the Dark Mark that the Auror handing you back your wand was staring at with hatred. The wand was simply for show. They had put a charm on it so you couldn’t do most spells. Not that it mattered. You couldn’t do most spells anyway after being fed on by dementors almost every day since arriving in Azkaban.
“Try anything—”
“And you’ll send me back,” you cut him off. “I understand. You all have been threatening me with that for weeks now. Can we just go now?”
You wanted to get settled in at Hogwarts before the kids arrived. Nothing was lost on you. You knew that no one would be happy to see you. You weren’t even going to bother finding your brother or your husband.
At least they kept the ring, you thought as you fiddled with it while waiting for the Auror to come back in order to apparate to the school.
It had been Euphemia Potter’s. She figured when her only son was getting married that giving her future daughter-in-law her original engagement ring was only fitting. While you knew that no one would be happy to see you, there was a small part of you that hoped maybe you could get them all to listen to you. If you could just get someone to hear the truth then maybe they would give you a proper trial. Those hopes were immediately shattered when all the professors either walked by like they didn’t see you or cowered in fear.
You sighed as you sat at the end of the staff table. It only got worse when the students entered and Dumbledore announced what was happening. You wanted to correct every bit of what he said because it simply wasn’t true. Your heart sank when you watched the Marauders— your old friends— all reach for their wands when you stood from the table. They had nothing to be scared of. You were the traumatized one. You were the one riddled with nightmares and scared of your own shadow. They had nothing to fear. You addressed Dumbledore.
“I’m finished with dinner, is it alright if I leave? I’m not going anywhere but my room.”
“That’s fine.”
You went to leave before turning around again. “If none of the students arrive in my Study Hall, don’t punish them. It’s understandable if they want to skip.”
A boy ran past you, pushing up his large glasses as he did. “Dad, did Uncle Remus tell you about what happened on the train?”
You blinked in confusion between the boy and James. The resemblance was uncanny. And you were forced to face a thought that pained you whenever it popped into your head while in Azkaban. Of course he wasn’t your husband anymore. Why would he be? Still, judging by the boy’s age, James had moved on fast. You figured it must have been easy when you were branded a murderer. The divorce papers that you were never served probably got approved as soon as they saw your name on the form.
But he was one of the few bright thoughts that you had while in prison. And now that was gone. Without much thought, you wiggled the ring off your finger and set it down next to James’ hand. He barely looked at the thing, only picking it up when he recognized it as his mother’s ring.
~~
“I thought you were going to your room.”
You jumped when you heard the deep voice. Relief settled over you when you noticed that it was just the Marauders. You had been headed to your room until you noticed that it was the full moon. The full moon was worth getting in trouble for not going straight to your room. That had always been something that plagued you while in Azkaban. You had spent every full moon worrying about your brother. You were the one that bandaged everyone up after they came back from the Shrieking Shack. Remus never allowed you to go with them even though you became an Animagus for that very reason. He had always been concerned about your safety around him.
While you were relieved, the Marauders couldn’t say the same thing. Remus’ Moony Nights had calmed down severely since being students once Severus learned how to brew wolfsbane potion for him but it still wasn’t easy. They all sat down at the island in the school’s kitchen with a lot of tension. You seemed busy as they watched you move around. When you turned to face them, they simply stared at the cups of hot chocolate. You grabbed the jar and moved around the island.
“Remmy, are you hurt anywhere els—”
Remus grabbed your wrist before you could dab the cream to the cut above his eyebrow. “I don’t need your help.”
You simply blinked at your older brother. “It’s just that it’s a Moony N—”
“You said you were going to your room. Already lying.”
Despite glaring at you the entire time, James’ face softened slightly when he noticed your eyes go wide and a slight tremor to your body. Quickly, you retreated to your room after a quick apology. The incident with the dementors and the Hogwarts Express had been your fault. You and Remus shared dna and that almost got him and some of the students severely hurt when they mistook him for you on that alone. You weren’t even sure if the men heard your apology with how fast you left the kitchen.
You didn’t want to be in trouble with the dementors on the first day of freedom. You were the reason they were patrolling school grounds in the first place. Everything you did was monitored. That thought didn’t escape you as you ate breakfast in your classroom.
Like you suspected, none of the students that had you as a professor for Study Hall showed up. You got plenty of letters from their parents and lots of mean-spirited messages from the students themselves. All three of your meals were eaten in your empty classroom. You were starting to wonder if the isolation of Hogwarts was any better than Azkaban. At least the food was better.
~~
The commotion outside of your bedroom door woke you up. Your entire body felt heavy. You had just finished another bottle of Dreamless Sleep Draught. The nightmares were endless and the noise outside was cutting into the little bit of sleep time that you got. You groaned when it didn’t seem to die down. Eventually, you dragged yourself out of bed.
“You insolent litt—”
“Professor Snape,” you called out in a bit of confusion.
Severus and Harry froze up at the sight of you, even if you were in pajamas. You were too tired to even be bothered by their actions. You squinted slightly as the light from Snape’s wand shone in your face.
“Professor, what is happening?”
Severus snatched a large piece of parchment out of Harry’s hand. “Seems Mr. Potter has found an interesting artifact. Clearly dark magic. Why don’t you look since this is your area of expertise.”
Your nostrils flared slightly at the insult but you said nothing. You simply leaned over to look at what he was holding. The laughter that escaped your mouth was impossible to stop as you recognized the paper. The Marauders’ Map wouldn’t even exist if you hadn’t helped. Harry and Severus tensed at the laughter. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Severus remembered your laugh in your school days. It had always been soft and bubbly. It certainly wasn’t now. You took the map from him with a promise to check it out in case Harry did come across a dark artifact. After many moments of deliberation, Harry chose to go with you instead of Snape for his punishment for being out past curfew.
“How much trouble am I in, Professor?” he asked tentatively after you reached your classroom.
You shook your head. “If I got you in trouble for something James did every other night, I’d be a hypocrite. You know I can’t give this back to you though.”
Harry shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t think it works anyway.”
“Oh? Well, the magic of that map doesn’t lie… Harry, what is it?”
“It’s, um.” He picked at his clothes, regretting that he had opened his mouth. “The map showed a name but Peter Pettigrew is dead.”
“What?”
“It’s n-n-nothing. Goodnight, Professor.” Harry scrambled out the room as you began to open every single fold of the map.
The dark circles under your eyes were prominent as you ran into the Great Hall. With little care for their breakfast, you placed the map on the staff table in front of the Marauders. Your eyes practically sparkled as you pointed feverishly at the map. Before you could open your mouth, Severus glanced over.
“Is that the parchment you confiscated from Mr. Potter last night? Is it actually dark magic?”
“You were near my son?” James asked with great concern.
“I… the map,” you quickly redirected when you found that you didn’t have an answer that would appease him. “Just look please.”
The almost whimper in your tone immediately sent Remus into big brother mode whether he liked it or not. His gaze moved to where your finger kept stabbing at the paper.
“What are we looking at?”
Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. You bent your head down, shaking it furiously.
“No, no, he was asleep a minute ago. I swear he was there, Peter wa—”
“Don’t you dare say his name,” Sirius cut you off.
Tears were welling in your eyes. The map, Harry’s discovery, was the one saving grace that you had. If you couldn’t find Peter then you were going to be a criminal for life. It didn’t matter if they let you stay out of Azkaban. You wanted to be rid of your nightmare once and for all.
“Peter was here, he was here,” you kept whispering.
You shook your head, scratching at your hair as you backed away from the table still whispering. The gossip already started as you exited the Great Hall in such distress. You kept going towards the school’s entrance, needing to be outside. You hadn’t been outside in so long. Up until now, you had just reserved yourself to staring outside your classroom windows at the scenery. But now you needed air. If you couldn’t find Peter then you had nothing. You stumbled backwards slightly when a large cloaked figure seemed to appear in front of you.
Panic set in. You must have stepped too far out of the bounds of the castle grounds. But you were still close to the door. You thought that you’d have more room to walk around. Maybe the dementors didn’t care. The mumbling about Peter turned to pleading with the dementor.
Like when you were in prison, the creature ignored you. Your scream was silent as the familiar freeze set into your body and the dementor sucked out another shred of happiness— the entire year of when you were eight was now officially gone from your memory.  
James, more pissed than anything that you were near his son, couldn’t help but look down again. He knew your tells. Even before you were married, before you started dating in sixth year, he always noticed your tells. The scratching at your hair was only when you were under great stress. He let his eyes lazily scan over the map. Sirius and Remus looked at their friend when James abruptly stood up. The word Wormtail leaving his mouth made them look at the map. James was out of his seat and out of the Great Hall in a matter of seconds.
You always liked to sit on the pier at the lake whenever you were stressed. He froze in his tracks when he saw you kneeling in the grass. Throughout the whole war and the brief Auror career that he had, James Potter had never seen a dementor at work.
“Expecto Patronum!”
The dementor slowly backed away from your body that had now dropped into the grass.
“Shit,” James muttered under his breath as he scooped you up and carried you to the Hospital Wing.
(Part 2)
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buckys-black-dress · 4 years ago
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see through
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚  ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!
wc: 4.1k words
[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚  ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
-
Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.
Notice how you said night?
Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.
And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?
(Great choice on your part, by the way.)
Well, because of your neighbor.
You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.
But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.
But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.
Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.
You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.
But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.
-
The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.
You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.
But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.
-
"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.
"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.
It was him.
"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,
"Keep the change."
"Thanks, and your name?"
He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'
"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.
"James."
That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.
As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.
You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.
"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.
"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."
"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.
"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.
"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"
"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.
"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.
You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.
"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.
He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.
For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.
Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.
"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.
"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.
"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.
"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.
"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.
He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.
"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.
You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.
"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.
As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.
(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The girl who works at this café is annoying.
But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.
He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.
But it was a nice gesture.
Why can't you just take a nice gesture?
Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.
He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.
You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.
Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.
Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.
He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.
But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.
He hates how lonely it gets, though.
Bucky wishes that he had someone.
Someone who could understand.
And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.
Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.
But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.
But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'
Or that's what his therapist says.
"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.
He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.
Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.
He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.
Who he was.
"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.
"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."
"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.
You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.
Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.
Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.
He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.
Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?
But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.
All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.
But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.
He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.
Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.
He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.
Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.
Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.
But there was no one.
And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.
Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.
But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.
For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.
He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.
For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.
There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.
Well, in your own apartment, of course.
And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.
As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.
He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.
(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.
After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.
He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.
But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.
Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.
You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.
You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.
As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.
-
The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.
You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.
You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.
You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.
-
You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.
You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.
"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.
"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.
You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.
He seems to have this issue quite often.
Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.
Well, nothing you did on purpose.
Nothing you were aware of at the time.
Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.
"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.
"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.
"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.
"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.
"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.
"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.
The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.
-
As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.
He was attractive, you'll admit.
Okay, he was more than attractive.
"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.
"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.
"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.
"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.
"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.
"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.
"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.
"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.
"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.
"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.
"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.
"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.
"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.
"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."
"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.
You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.
"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.
"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.
"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.
"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.
"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."
Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.
"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."
You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.
He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.
You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.
"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.
-
bonus scene:
six months later
You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.
"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.
"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.
"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.
"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."
Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.
"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.
"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.
"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."
You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.
"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.
"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.
A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.
"Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.
"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.
You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.
"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.
"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.
"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.
"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.
"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."
-
fin. i hope you enjoyed!
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absolutebl · 3 years ago
Note
hi again
how are you? i hope you had a good week so far
i have two questions
1. i’m watching manner of death and the sound quality is driving me mad. i tried on yt and then switched to we tv site and it still is not good. like it’s way too quiet (you can barely hear the background when they talk) or the music comes in and it gets too loud. i wonder if it’s me or if the mixing (?) got messed up. i’ve seen a few clips of other series (can’t name them of the top of my head) and just wanted to ask why does it happen? is it a budget problem or mic one or maybe copyright? or just honest mistake or my laptop is just weird.
2. how did the pairing in thai bls stared? like did they just randomly decided to pair the actors who did good together and keep casting them both for roles? because they got popular with fans or was it more planned and conscious effort to sell that?
side note just wanted to thank you for all of your commentaries and reviews and language posts. they make me super interested in the dynamics of characters and make me pay attention to stuff i normally wouldn’t. so thank you for making me a little bit more perceptive.
Hi hi again!
So far so good, it's a slow week, I got a lot of stuff out that I'm waiting to come home again with work, which means I am sitting around twiddling my thumbs doing busywork (as the gran would call it) and distracting myself on Tumblr.
At some point in the not too distant future a big project is gonna hit and I’m gonna disappear except for the weekly updates and y’all are gonna think I’m dead. 
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Manner of Death = terrible sound production?
1. i’m watching manner of death and the sound quality is driving me mad. i tried on yt and then switched to we tv site and it still is not good. like it’s way too quiet (you can barely hear the background when they talk) or the music comes in and it gets too loud. i wonder if it’s me or if the mixing (?) got messed up. i’ve seen a few clips of other series (can’t name them of the top of my head) and just wanted to ask why does it happen? is it a budget problem or mic one or maybe copyright? or just honest mistake or my laptop is just weird.
I think I remember it being pretty bad always. But then I watched MoD grey so everything was terrible, rips and all, and thre were random ads and threats of viruses. Count your blessings in that regard, trust me, it could be A LOT worse. 
I’m just getting around to a rewatch on WeTV but I’m not expecting much. I’ll let you know if I feel like the sounds is significantly worse than I remember. 
Honestly, with very few exceptions Thailand is TERRIBLE with sound, even worse when they go on location. Their looping is bad (if they bother). I mean we JOKE about how terrible they are with boom mics so much that Our Days referenced it. 
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For goodness sake they use wired mics for intimacy scenes, and cheap wireless mics at WINDY locations. It’s just *throws hands into air.* 
Speculation is there just aren’t any sound techs in Thailand. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 
How do Thai BL Pairs Happen? How did it start? 
2. how did the pairing in thai bls stared? like did they just randomly decided to pair the actors who did good together and keep casting them both for roles? because they got popular with fans or was it more planned and conscious effort to sell that?
SOTUS started it. Ironically, we get to blame SingtoKrist. 
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OffGun made it popular and caused everyone to realize it was possible to make more money as branded pair (sponsorship deals). 
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But it was MewGulf who actually broke the internet. They caused Harper/Vogue something fashiony (?) Thailand’s website to crash when they appeared on the cover together, also won best kiss Asia against all the het couples. 
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Originally I believe it was unplanned, but KirstSingto did so well on variety shows and with fan meets when promoting SOTUS and then SOTUS S they got given their own travel-esk show (by GMMTV). Say what you like about Krist he’s really good on a “yes, and.” Then GMMTV started to just sort of do a hard push with any pair they could, to try to get them to stick and recreate this magic. 
For the first few years 2016-2019 or so, the boys were just farting around and not really intentional about it. I think as the IRL shipping got worse (especially with MewGulf and ZeeSaint), expectations started to be different from within the industry (as well as from outsiders). Things have changed after multiple fissures and problems with pairs disbanding (and this having a career impact). 
Sometimes GMMtV’s intentional approach works (EarthMix) sometimes it fades away (PodKhaotung) sometimes it’s purposefully made-over by the studio (BrightWin). 
Career-minded and more savvy actors and managers are now, understandably, both wary and intentional in their approach to pairing up (and IF they will have an approach at all). Watching how Nanon and Ohm handled it for Bad Buddy was eye opening. (Ohm’s previous pairing from Make It Right seems to have left in industry for... not great reasons... So I’ve always assumed Ohm is relatively jaded and definitely guarded about BL.)
On the flip side, indie pairs started to form with specifically an eye towards acting together as the leads in dramas (e.g. KaownahTurbo and SantaEarth).
I talk a lot about it and the history of pairs in this (OLD AND NO LONGER UPDATED) post here:
A Guide to Thai BL Actor Pairs for New Watchers 
and a little bit on the new ones in 
Thai BL Actor Pairs... REDUX! (newer pairs)
and
GMMTV and Co-Branded BL Couples - pairs and marketing tactics
I keep meaning to do an update on all the pairs, but the skinship side of BL fandom makes me very uncomfortable so I keep avoiding it. 
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timextoxhajima · 4 years ago
Text
Accelerate [Dana’s 600 Special]
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Track: Feel It by Michele Morrone / Drunk-Dazed by ENHYPHEN / Insanity by THE BOYZ
Member: I swear he’s not even my bias
Genre: i-ion know-
Word Count: it’s pretty damn long so please don’t make me write a part two
Taglist: @hyunjaethereal​ @lsangyeons​
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The first time you laid eyes on Lee Hyunjae, you were both in Italy as he was being blinded by a billion flashes in his face. The light reflects off his dark hair - which was once a brighter color - as he maintains that polite, miniscule smile on his face. Most of the photographers and interviewers were male, for the sole reason that female photographers and interviewers would be too stunned to continue at their job. 
Not that the males rushing to get a shot of his face or a string of words out from him now weren’t stunned themselves. 
Despite being hailed for looking like every woman’s wet dream, Lee Hyunjae was more known for being South Korea’s youngest first class F1 racer. Sure, if he ever bothered to utter a single syllable of speech to you, you could pass out on the spot. 
But right now, all you wanted was to get an exclusive modelling contract from Louis Vuitton to his manager. Not Lee Hyunjae, not his bodyguards, his manager.
“Lee Hyunjae! Do you have anything you want to say before your final race of the season? How do you feel about being so close to coming out top?”
His manager stands a step behind him to Hyunjae’s right, and gives the racer the green light to respond. The flashes and sounds of clicking from the cameras were so overwhelming, it’s impossible for you to even imagine how it felt like being in the spotlight.
But the celebrity couldn’t receive the question any less gracefully, and offers one of those swoon-worthy smiles before leaning into the microphone.
“I feel nervous but I’ve prepared for this. Consistency is key and I believe in myself, so if that answers your question...” 
“Do you have any other plan other than racing? Word has it that you’ve received offers to be the face of Gucci and Louis Vuitton!”
The contract in your briefcase is still ironed out safely in its file when you pull it behind your legs, away from plain sight.
Hyunjae turns to look at his manager when the question posed obviously isn’t one of those in the list prepared, so the manager steps forward, and coincidentally spots you at the back of the crowd. He recognises you from the meeting he had with your higher-up.
“My apologies but Mr Lee isn’t permitted to answer to any of these, so if this is all then we must be going. Thank you for coming to the conference tonight.” 
Lee Hyunjae and his manager step back away from the microphone and bow for the press to continue their aggressive, merciless snapshotting. You wait patiently for the duo to disappear behind the conference area, and for the press to switch their attention to the pictures they have on their camera before you make your round backstage. 
The 5-star hotel is grand in all the ways possible: chandelier, white wines and champagnes being served in waiting areas and water was served sparkling. Finally fishing out the tag that you were given at the registration for entry to the event, you hand it to the lady at the meetings’ conference registration counter.
You wonder how the Louis Vuitton logos on your clothes and briefcase had gone unnoticed earlier at the showcase. Even on the tag, the ‘LV’ logo was so apparent. How far does the company need to go in order for them to have the logo printed in some shiny, golden print on the tag-
“Welcome to the F1 internal press conference and meeting, Miss l/n!” She pulls a sticker off a page and presses it onto the tag below the LV logo. “If you need anything at all, please just approach one of our staffs. All waiters and staff concerned will have a red tie tonight.”
“Alright, thank you,” The tag gets slid across the table to you. “Where’s the nearest washroom?”
“Oh, she’ll show you the way,” The lady gestures behind her for one of the staff members with a red tie to accompany you. 
“Oh-” Slightly taken aback by the aggressive escorting, the younger female grins at you before holding out her arm in the direction of the washroom. “Thanks.”
The hotel’s grandeur only gets more and more apparent as your heels click through the hallways and corridors. For an event night, the hotel’s pretty desolate. Then again, the press conference happened outside where all the photographers and journalists were. The one you were here for was an internal press meeting, and last you checked, there were fewer than 10 names on that list. 
“I can find my way back to the main hall after,” The slight panic in your voice humors you when the staff member seemed ready to wait outside the washroom. “Thanks.”
She bows and takes her leave only after you enter the bathroom; you can tell from the sound of her shoes echoing down the corridor. The scent of lavender is so overwhelming, you could almost taste it. Walls of cream and silver strokes cut through the tiles, a vase made of bronze sits in the corner of the platform where the sinks were, filled with roses.
The crisp reflection of yourself stares down at you in the mirror; it’s one of the few times you were dressed in branded goods head to toe. None of the articles of clothing you were wearing right now, you owned. Usually, you’d be gaping in awe at how beautiful these places where - after all, you were in a five-star hotel in Italy. 
But no, after almost five years of working with Louis Vuitton as a brand ambassador and subsequently becoming an assistant model-scout has numbed your habit of wandering eyes. 
The LV briefcase gets set on a dry area of marble, your fingers automatically clutching the edges of the sink as the jewelry on your ears, neck and hands twinkle under the fluorescent lighting. The makeup looks close to perfect - because someone had done it for you. Your clothes and shoes fit right down to your skin - because they were tailored for you. 
You were more upset you couldn’t sell it off and donate the money over having actual ownership of these fabrics. 
News of the orphanage had reached you hours after you touched down in Italy, and your heart yearns to stop the ache that seeps through you. They had run out of funds to continue the orphanage, the kids already enrolled would be split and sent to other organizations instead. 
What you had once called your home was going to be non-existent in another years’ time. Those whom you called your teachers, mentors, parents... were going to be in places you were not familiar with. The children that you always bring back food, clothes and toys for were going to be separated into different cities and states. As if not having a family was not bad enough, the people you now called your family was going to be split apart. 
You hadn’t noticed your eyes were closed until you opened them, the weight of the makeup on your face urging you to rub your eyes and skin but the discipline written into your hands stop you from doing so. 
Standing back to fix your posture, your eyes land on the one garnish on your body that doesn’t belong to Louis Vuitton - the ring on your middle finger. A gold band that looked more like a wedding ring than anything else. 
It had the name of the orphanage engraved on the inner side, so it feels lighter on your hands than it would otherwise be. 
A deep breath expands your chest as you take your briefcase and step away from the sink, attention scrutinising yourself more than you actually would.
The corridors of the hotel collect you back into its wealth again, drawing the thickest line between the realities of people like you and those who enjoy the luxurious life. 
The racer’s manager was sitting at the end of the meeting table when you enter, and you immediately recognise half the list of names you had seen before. Gucci’s manager was here personally. Another racer and his manager were here too. Stefano Domenicali and Michael Masi were here. 
Why were they here? Their names weren’t on the list.
“Ah, Miss l/n!” Masi gets off his seat and holds out his hand. “Such a pleasure to meet you!”
“Honor on my part,” Reaching out a palm, you smile the most graceful smile you can find in the muscles of your face. 
“Can I get you a drink? We’re still waiting for Mr Lee before we begin our discussion on the collaboration.”
Collaboration?
“Pardon my ignorance but... I thought I was here for a sponsorship or a model-contract request for Mr Lee... I wasn’t expecting your attendance or... a collaboration.”
Domenicalli chuckles heartily at his seat as he whirls around to gesture to one of the staff members in the room. “Will you get her a Mojito?” 
Then he stands up and pushes his glasses up his nose bridge. “We’ve been looking for a company that’s willing to do a three-way partnership with us and Mr Lee’s agency. Right now, it’s boiled down to both Louis Vuitton and Gucci so... it depends on which contract Mr Lee’s agency is more interested in.”
“Oh... Um, if that’s the case then I’m not entirely sure if the contract I have with me right now is appropriate-”
“Oh, it’s not. LV has already told us you’d sell them better unscripted than if planned,” Masi leans forward and mutters away from your ear. “Don’t tell Gucci though. Their manager’s only here because they panicked.”
He pulls away and before he can say anything else, the door clicks open with a staff member pushing the door open for the star of the night. 
“My apologies,” He’s changed out of his formal suit and is in a more comfortable set of hoodie and baggy pants now. “Did I keep everybody waiting?”
“No, not at all!” Masi throws his hands up into the air and beckons you to meet Lee Hyunjae. “Might I introduce... Miss l/n from LV. She’ll be the one pitching the collaboration for LV today.”
Hyunjae’s eyes are wide and clear, despite his fringe covering his eyelids. “My pleasure,” He holds out his hand and you take it to shake, but he doesn’t stop there.
Lifting the back of your hand to his lips, the contact is soft and gentle on your skin. 
Your hairs stand against your will and goosebumps erupt all over your neck when he pulls away, eyes now locked with yours. Nobody else in the room bothers to provide a reaction - it’s like he’s done this before and it’s perfectly normal. 
The rest of the evening is spent listening to your own pitch, and Gucci’s, but you couldn’t really keep your head in the game when... all that was in Lee Hyunjae’s head was... you.
You’d be lying had you said you were comfortable with how much he was glancing at you across the table, obviously not listening to Gucci’s pitch at all. His manager was the one busy jotting down all kinds of things, almost like it was an act of dictation. But the racer’s eyes fail to leave you for any longer than five seconds, and it was becoming glaringly obvious that he wasn’t really paying attention to the pitch. 
Gucci’s pitch finally finishes, giving you some kind of escape because now his manager is pummeling him for not listening to the benefits provided as Gucci’s ambassador. The contract document from LV was sitting before you, very single term and condition now inapplicable because you had just pitched something that wasn’t in the instruction manual.
God help me not to get fired.
“Mr Lee has some to a decision,” Masi claps his hands together, earning the attention of everybody in the room. “The Formula One federation would like to officially welcome Lee Hyunjae as the brand ambassador in a stellar collaboration... with Gucci.”
The Gucci ambassador scout smiles with triumph as the room provides a round of applause, you included. 
“Thank you so much, Miss l/n, for coming down. Your pitch was nothing short of commendable and I will make sure your manager will hear of that, alright?” Masi and Domenicali take turns shaking your hand. In your peripheral vision, you watch the Gucci ambassador shake hands with both Lee Hyunjae and his manager. 
Masi and Domenicali finish up with you, and Lee Hyunjae’s manager approaches you for the handshake with his client behind him. “That was a stellar... impromptu pitch, Miss l/n.”
A gentle chuckle rolls off your tongue as you pull your hand away, tightly clutching the briefcase. “I work better when things aren’t planned, so...”
“We’ll... we’ll keep in touch, LV. You’re an excellent scout with marvelous presentation skills. It makes me sad Mr Lee didn’t choose you.”
Your eyes drift to Hyunjae’s and he’s already looking at you like he hadn’t eaten in three days and you were a bowl of soup.
“Of course we’ll keep in touch. He’ll still be valuable asset and ambassador after his contract with Gucci ends,” Ignoring him, you return your attention to his manager. 
“Now, let’s hope the Prince of Korea doesn’t screw anything up, yeah?” His manager grins as he pats Hyunjae on the back. “Anyway, it’s been a mighty pleasure. We’ll be in touch.”
You lower your head as a small nod, turning on your heels to exit the room. Even then you can feel his eyes on your back. 
By the time you’re back in your hotel room (which was in the same hotel as you had the internal meeting), your feet are half dead from the heels you were wearing and the makeup on your face was starting to wear off. It took a nice, warm bath and a rather long conversation with your own manager on the phone as he congratulated on pulling through an impromptu pitch. 
He finally finishes, and you drop your phone into the towel by the bathtub as the steam fogs up the mirror. But your peace is cut short when someone rings the doorbell of your room. 
“Room service for Miss l/n!”
Tightening the robe around your waist, you pull open the door and watch the hotel staff hold out a bottle of wine and an envelop. “Mr Lee Hyunjae sends his regards, Miss.”
Surprised, you receive the bottle. The hotel staff bows and leaves, letting you turn around and the door click shut. 
To: Miss l/n
I apologise for the inappropriate staring earlier this evening. This is an attempt to compensate for my behaviour. I’ll be leaving Italy the day after tomorrow so if you could do me the pleasure of having dinner with me tomorrow... I’d like to be acquainted.
I’ve made a reservation at La Terrazza for 7pm. I’ll meet you in the guest lobby downstairs at 6.30 to pick you up. 
Love, 
Lee Hyunjae
You can see how the material of the paper trembles a little between your fingers. The thought runs, So he’s a creep and a national treasure. He can’t hurt you, right?
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Again, the evening gown is more than fitting on you. It’s been tailored to hug all your curves at your chest and your hips and thighs and it exposes your leg where the slit is. It’s like LV knew you had an important evening appointment coming up and had you pack all these different sets appropriate for the event. 
The usher standing by the guest lobby nods when you head for the door, and he pushes it open to reveal only one person in it: Lee Hyunjae. 
On the phone, he whirls around when he hears the doors swish against the carpet flooring. His eyes are glimmering under the soft, rosy lighting and the glossy collar of his suit looks like plastic from the reflection. 
“I gotta go, I’ll call you back.”
The phone clicks to black before he opens his blazer and slides it into his inner breast pocket. 
“I’m gonna guess that’s your manager,” Your fingers wrap around the clutch tightly as he takes a few steps toward you, obviously very stunned by how different you looked compared from the previous day. 
“Uh, no, actually,” That million-dollar smile gleams at you. He reaches up to his forehead and scratches his brow. His hair is styled upwards so seeing the glory of his forehead was pretty enticing. “My mom. Making sure I’m doing well and fine here.”
He stops a safe distance away from you, finished with taking in whatever of you his eyes and memory can allow him. “Not gonna lie, I thought you were gonna stand me up.”
“I think LV would fire me if they knew I stood the Lee Hyunjae up.”
Hyunjae licks his lips then purses them together, attention finally peeling off your face as he reaches for your hand. He presses his lips into the back of your palm, then casually hooks your arm around his while he walks to your side. “Ready to go?”
At a loss of words for his flirtatious mannerism, all you can afford is a nod.
But as if your vocabulary bank wasn’t already exhausted, you can’t help but stare in complete astonishment when you are led to the matte black Sian Roadster already waiting at the drop-off point right outside the lobby. 
“Have them send the Dior package to Miss l/n’s room by 9pm,” He instructs the bell boy by the hotel entrance as he reaches for the vehicle door. 
“Wait, what?” 
“Yes, Mr Lee.”
“Thanks.”
“Wait a minute,” Your vision is finally peeled off the car when Lee Hyunjae pulls the door open. “What Dior package?”
“Just a token of appreciation from me, that’s all,” He releases your arm as he guides you into the vehicle. “I knew if I gave it to you over dinner, you’d reject, so...”
Twitching his eyebrow, he smirks and retreats, closing the car door. 
Flirt.
The vehicle moves off with a sharp rev of the engine, and you almost feel guilty for being able to be comfortable in in your clothes, shoes, sports car and on the way to a fancy-ass restaurant. 
If only things could be like that for everybody and everything. 
“So, when are you leaving Italy?”
“Oh, um... tomorrow too actually,” Rome’s lights are wondrous on the outside, some of them blinding you. “I have... something to attend.”
“Hmm, that’s... vague.”
You turn to eye him at his silent call for clarification. “I’m attending a closing event; help out with administrations.”
“Like... a pet store or something?”
“Yeah, ‘or something’.”
“That confidential, huh?” He lets out a soft chuckle. 
The gut in your abdomen tells you not to look at him. He’ll see right through you, figure out that there’s something more to it than something ‘confidential’. 
“Yeah,” You mask it with a sigh. “Funds and things.”
You can feel his attention sink into your back as silence befell the atmosphere. 
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There’s a kind of light in his eyes when he talks about racing. When he’s describing the feeling of adrenaline in his fingers, gripped around the steering wheel. He’s unexpectedly kind to the service at the restaurant, then again he was a celebrity and he had a reputation to uphold. 
It’s the kind of light that made you panic throughout dinner, because there’s no way this specimen of a man would ever pay you a second thought. Maybe you were going to be his Italy fling that he would boast about to his friends and colleagues and they’d laugh at you without you even knowing. 
What was a rich, handsome racer even doing, single? It was too good to be true, and even if it was, you? Of all people?
Dream on.
“It’s been... an amazing night. Thank you so much for dinner.”
Lee Hyunjae walks you into the lift, letting you press the button to your floor first. 
“I’ll walk you back. I have time.”
Standing with your feet together, in the safety of your gown, your hands are holding your clutch like your life depended on it. You could tell that he wasn’t the most comfortable now, not with his hands over one another and placed politely on his abdomen.
When the lift door dings open, the silence remains. He trails behind you as you walk your way to your room, hands fumbling through your clutch to search for your keycard. The slick of the door is fast and you push the door open, with a black and silver box with the label ‘DIOR’ printed on it sitting at the foot of your bed. 
“Oh, my God!” You rush in and grab the box, eyes widening as you turn to him, who has one arm extended to keep the door open. The box was almost as big as a pillow.
There’s a soft, warm smile on his face. A stark contrast to all his flirty ministrations throughout the evening. “Goodnight, Miss l/n. Sleep well and have a safe flight.”
“Wha-” Then he lowers his head, and turns around. “Wait!”
Without another moment of hesitation, he disappears down the corridor and the door swings shut. 
It feels ironically empty. Your hands are carrying this Godforsaken box of a gift and yet you cannot think of a way to properly thank the person who gave it to you. With slight reluctance, your fingers find the edge of the cover.
It’s a beautiful Dior blazer, packaged with a perfume and a cosmetics set. The cream letter in it is handwritten and signed the racer himself.
I wish we had more time. Love,  Lee Hyunjae
The nauseating sensation of your heart sinking in your chest beats all the logic in your brain when you find yourself reaching for the door handle. The box is mindlessly thrown back onto the bed as you rush out, kicking off your heels in the moment of folly. (Of course, remembering to use the door latch to keep the door open.)
“Hyunjae!” You call down the corridor, and he was just about to enter the lift. He turns, providing you with a gorgeous view of his jaw. 
It feels like a fairytale, when you run down the carpeted corridor, barefooted and still in your gown. The urge to throw your arms around him far supercedes your brain yelling at you not to, but you do it anyway. 
He catches you by the waist as your rest your forehead in his blazer, arms already struggling to meet the height of his shoulders. 
A whisper. “I wish we had more time too.”
He pushes you back by your upper arms, tucking one bit of your hair behind your ear. “If time is what you want, then I’ll make time.”
“But... I- Will you get in trouble?”
He looks you dead in the eye and subtly shakes his head. 
Time stops. 
Fear. That’s what you’re feeling. 
Then he tilts his head and slowly leans in. 
“I don’t think I’d care if I do.”
His breath hits your upper lip and your instincts flutter your lids shut. 
White wine and strawberries from dinner. That’s what he tastes like.
Warmth radiates off his palms and into your cheeks as he holds your face close to his, unable to resist the satisfaction and sweetness you were providing him. In this moment of intimacy, he loses all sense of realism and urgency - all he wants is you to himself, for the rest of the night until the sun rises. 
Then he’d have to worry about never seeing you again because his manager had chosen Gucci over LV. 
But right now, he has your heart and soul in his hands, as does his in yours. 
Being the romantic and (probably) egoistic man of a celebrity he is, he lowers himself and slides his arms where the back of your knees would be, somehow never breaking the kiss. The material of the gown dribbles over the cotton of his suit and your arm circles behind his neck, only minimizing the distance between the two of you. 
It feels like you’re getting married in this black and gold sparkly evening gown when he pushes the door open with his back. The scent of the room is inviting, but definitely none in comparison to the scent of his cologne beginning to stain your hands and your clothes. 
Gently resting you into the cool sheets of the bed, he pulls away to remove the Dior package off the bed, placing it on the mini coffee table by the bed. 
You were never one to deal with one night stands. Hell, the only person you’d ever slept with was some stupid kid back in the orphanage when your stupid teenage hormones were running-
He pulls off his blazer and leans in again, picking your awkward hands and resting them on the knot of his tie. His fingers are grazing the skin on your upper arm, trailing down to your cheek and then your hairline where he combs his hands through your hair. 
The knot on the tie comes undone with some slight tugs, and you slide it out from under his collar. Undoing only the first one, you rest your palms against his chest, creating a small rift where the air rushes to your lips where his should be.
He’s slightly stunned at the slightest breakage, but he is overwhelmed with more care and concern than he was upset. “Why? What’s wrong?” He traces your jaw and rests his fingers on your chin, noses almost touching.
“Are you sure... You want to do this? I can’t risk you losing your career,” Your index finger traces the likes of his cheekbone. “You barely just started.”
Hyunjae shakes his head subtly, taking your hands to his lips and pressing them into the back of your palm. “When I saw you in that room, I was... star struck. You’d think being the celebrity in the room would mean everything, but I felt like I was nothing if I didn’t know you, much less be able to get close to you.”
And for someone who hasn’t really had a biological family to love, his words stuck. 
“I just... knew. There are some things in the world you can work for, but I don’t think any amount of effort can give me you.”
His brown orbs find your gaze and it melts you thoroughly. Like ice cream on a hot day; like the way the ocean washes against the sand by the beach, taking grains of sand away with it - the same way Hyunjae was winning you bit by bit, if not already all of you. 
Your hands find his collar again, and it tightens around the stiff material to pull him back down. He smiles into the kiss, hands pressing into the mattress by your hair while you undo the rest of his buttons. His skin is hot under the shirt, blood running on the adrenaline and tension he was riding on from the intimacy. Muscles pumped and heart racing, you finally get his shirt off and he does you the honor of dropping it to the ground. 
He gives you time to gasp for air while he dips his nose into your neck, inhaling your perfume and the scent of the hotel shampoo in your hair. His back muscles tense up under your cold fingertips as you run them along his spine. It’s almost beast-like, when he flexes his arms and every single move shifts his shoulder blades under his skin. His lips leave gentle pecks in your neck and your exposed collar bone, letting goosebumps erupt all over your skin. 
His hand caresses your waist as a way of request, and you arch your back just enough for him to find the zipper on the back of your gown. The vibrations of the zip being pulled downwards already feels like little bolts of electricity up your spine, and the straps around your shoulders loosen with every inch unzipped. 
He’s done, when his fingers return to your shoulders to push the straps off. The cool air kisses your skin in spots where he isn’t touching with any part of his body. The silk of the gown gently slides off with every inch of a movement you make, more and more of your torso exposed to him. 
Sliding one of his arms under your lower back, he pulls you out of the dress instead of stripping you of it as he helps you further up the bed. Your hands press into the mattress in a bid to help him shift yourself without breaking the sloppy, messy kiss. Your back finally meets the pillows and he pushes the gown off the bed with his leg. 
Chin tilting to the ceiling, he finally creates some distance between the two of you, eyes drifting down to your collar bone and chest still covered. His palms are hot around your waist as he trails butterfly pecks on your cleavage, while your fingers find his hair to tousle and grip. 
Goosebumps start to surface when his breath is heavy on your stomach, then he reaches your underwear and it’s almost embarrassing to have him kiss you. 
Your clouded vision is manually stuck to the ceiling when you can feel your face burning with adrenaline. The tickle of the material when it gets pulled off your hips and down your legs bring your cheeks more color, and before you know it, Hyunjae has your breath hitched in your throat. 
He rests your thighs on his shoulders as he works his way around, the bare minimum sanity left inside you decides to grip onto the sheets instead of ripping out his hair. 
Chills shoot up your spine mercilessly, emanating in the form of lewd mewls directed into the air. The crown of your head meets the cushioned head board of the bed when his grip on your thighs tighten to keep you from squirming too much. 
Without warning, he drags a finger down your sensitiveness and slides it in easily, the sensation erupting a more-than-shameful groan from you. Pulling away, he adds another finger before shifting his attention back to your upper body, now eyeing the last piece of material covering your chest. But he captures your lips first to earn your attention, and your arms naturally find your way around his neck to keep him close. 
His free hand goes around your back to unhook your lingerie, and it’s nothing but a new addition to all the clothes on the carpet now. He removes his fingers, and breaks the kiss first, for the sole reason of giving you a perfect view of him licking his glistening skin. 
You can feel your brows furrow with frustration now, the warmth from him dissipating when he leans back on his heels in a kneeling position. By providing you a gorgeous view of his being while he undoes his belt, he’s only adding more fire to the fuel. 
It’s significant enough to stretch out the material of his boxers, and so he climbs over you as he removes his last bit of clothing. He harshly yanks you downwards into a lying position by your ankle, and the sharp friction against your back is an addition to the heat between the two of you. 
His breath is heavy on your lips as he rests his palms by your ears, weight pushing in the mattress. “Tell me if it hurts, love.”
Then he presses his lips into yours, like his life depended on it, and in one swift motion, he buries himself inside you like it was the most natural thing to do. 
You suck all the breath out of him as you gasp into the kiss, and he finds your arms to hook around his neck and shoulders. 
If you could feel the taste of honey throughout your body, this must be how it feels. 
He gives you some moments before he starts grinding his hips slowly, his palms finding your thighs and digging into your flesh as he hooks them around his hips. 
Breathless, you pull away first, whimpers in the back of your throat louder than what you would’ve expected. His nose dips into your neck again, arms now stretched out to use the headboard as support when he picks up the pace. 
Cursing under your breath, you feel guilty for the bliss that was spreading through you. Your nerves are all heightened by the adrenaline and your vision is blurred from the sole nature of the intimate act. 
He’s not fast, but every spot he’s hitting feels like cloud nine over and over again. 
Like a spark in the dark, the sacred spot reveals itself in the form of harsher breaths and groans. Your fingernails dig into his back and your thighs are losing stamina to remain wrapped around him. 
“That’s it,” He breaths into your ear, pressing a kiss into your lower jaw. “Come for me.”
Tremors burst through your body like lightning in a storm upon his request. He helps you ride it out with a few more thrusts before he pulls out himself, releasing on your stomach, chest heaving. 
Resting his forehead on yours, he smiles. “Let’s hope that one day I wouldn’t have to worry about pulling out.”
You scoff, slightly tired. “We’ll see.”
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You are woken up by the unfamiliar warmth you normally don’t have under the blanket. White sheets and tousled hair come into your field of vision before you can process the face, partially hidden, but eyes wide open.
“Jesus,” Your morning breath billows out between your lips and you swallow to dampen your dry throat. The room looks too damn bright for it to be morning. “What time is it?”
“7am. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time. My manager hasn’t called me so... we have time to spare.” 
You shuffle around under the sheets and your arms slide under the pillow where its cool. He shifts and pulls out his arm to rest on his tricep, palm under his ear and hair as he perches up his head. 
“What?” You pull the blanket up to your face and inhale the scent of it. It smells like him now. 
“You look pretty when you’re asleep.”
“What?” You frown, but a smile is on your lips. “How long did you watch me sleep for?”
“Not long, don’t worry. I’m not a perv.”
“Well, considering we just slept together after 24 hours of knowing one another-”
“Hey, we’re both about to be deported back to Korea to work. Give us a break, would you?” He groans and shifts again, this time trying to pull you into his chest. 
“Ah,” Snorting, you let him cradle you in his arms, his bare skin pressed warmly into yours. “‘Deport’? That’s what you call your job?”
“Only because you’re involved now,” He pecks you on the lips. “So... can I ask about your ‘administrative matters’ you said you needed to attend?”
Right. The orphanage is closing down. 
The guilt washes through you again. 
“Oh,” A look of seriousness overtakes your facials, and he notes the change in expression. “Um... I- Well... It’s an orphanage. It’s closing.”
He blinks at you, gaze filled with wander. “Were you a volunteer or...?”
Silence. 
You can’t bring yourself to say it. 
Unable to bear the incoming judgment he might provide you, your eyes dart away. 
“Hey, hey,” He finds your chin and tilts it back up to his attention. “What’s wrong? I don’t see anything wrong with being who you are. Why are you ashamed?”
“I... I’ve lived all my life with that label. ‘Orphan’. It only got better when I came out to work.”
“Is that why you are so worried? That... we might affect something and possibly implicate that?”
“Maybe.”
He sighs, thumb stroking your cheek as he shakes his head. “Nah. It shouldn’t matter.” Pulling your head into his chest, you can hear the steady thumping of his heart through his skin. “’Administrative matters’, huh? Are you like a... committee member or donator?”
“I’m an unofficial sponsor ambassador from LV. Well, LV was supposed to arrange for official funding, but they just never really had the time or resources to build the rapport. The orphanage was doing too badly for any company or brand to want to help and invest their attention on.”
“Mm,” He hums, stroking your hair. “I’m sorry about that. I truly am.”
“It’s okay. Nothing could’ve been done about it anyway. All I hope now is for the kids to be safe, no matter where they go.”
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It feels empty again, having Hyunjae being ripped from your side at the airport once the plane touched down. The manager was surprisingly not surprised to know that you had spent the night together, the only question he had asked being something that concerned a future pregnancy, which the two of you have already confirmed negative. 
It’s late when you reach back your apartment, and you ready yourself for the private meeting with the committee members of the orphanage. Though tired and severely jet-lagged, you cannot miss this meeting. It’s the last time you’ll see all the caretakers and members of the organisation in the same room.
You shift into the taxi in a new set of clothes, but topped with the Dior blazer and smelling like the Dior perfume, you feel like you were probably going to get slapped once you reach the meeting.
The building of the orphanage looks so run-down, it could be mistaken for a prison had it not been for the words HILDA’S ORPHANAGE in big, block letters above the entrance. Before you can exit the taxi, your phone starts vibrating in your purse.
It’s the President of the orphanage.
“I’m right outside the building, going in soon,” You push open the car door and thank the driver. 
“The meeting has been cancelled. Someone bought the orphanage and we’ll be managed under a new system.”
“What?”
“Surprise.” 
You turn around and see the last person you’d expect to see here, in his hands, a folder of documents and a small bouquet of flowers. 
“Um,” Your eyes are stuck to Hyunjae, but you’re still on the phone. “The buyer... Does it have anything to do with Gucci or F1?”
“Yes, it’s an F1 sponsorship but there will be more details into the managerial and planning system. Some things will have to change.”
“I’ll... I’ll call you back.”
Hyunjae watches you lock your phone in shock, attention unrivalled. He takes a few steps towards you and you now realise he’s still in the same clothes he was in on the plane. His eyebags are obvious but the prideful grin on his face makes him glow. 
Stopping about an arms’ length away from you, he holds out the folder.
“I checked with my manager and he checked with F1. They green-lit it, but on a few conditions. I heard them out before I told them it would be more likely than not you’d accept it, so here are the legal documents. All the terms and conditions and sponsor contract are already in here, so you and the President can sign it when you deem fit.”
Taking the folder, you didn’t even notice your hands are trembling as you flip through it. 
But your eyes flitter up from the page when you notice the printing: 
OWNER’S SIGNATURE (Y/N L/N): ____________________
“It’s yours if you sign it.”
Now, he holds out the bouquet. “I thought of putting it under my name but I don’t want you to think you owe me a favour and have it bugging you all the time.”
Gently shaking your head, as if you could shake out the surprise, you close the file and look to him in awe. “But I’ll still owe you, big time. This is... this is everything, so thank you.”
He sucks in a deep breath and shakes the bouquet of flowers a little. 
“You can return the favour by going out with me. Properly, whenever I have time, and I promise, no Dior packages.”
Taking the bouquet into hand, you throw your arms around his shoulders, tears welling in your eyes.
571 notes · View notes
masterthespianduchovny · 4 years ago
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I’m curious as to how Nate’s redemption arc will be handled, esp because I often see him compared to Rebecca and what she did.
For a while I tried to understand why this comparison fell flat for me. Why, despite disliking what Rebecca was doing and wanting her to fail, I wasn’t as bothered by her actions than I am Nate’s.
Don’t get me wrong, what Rebecca did was fucked up. She hired Ted under false pretenses and undermined him every step of the way. However, it wasn’t personal. Well, not to those employed by or connected to the club. Her actions was very much about hurting Rupert. Again, not to say that that isn’t fucked up and even some would argue that’s worse. However, despite her ill intent, Rebecca didn’t actively berate or threaten anyone under her outside of Higgins. This is why players and other people feel comfortable around her, she was nice to them, listened, and helped when she could, despite it being all to maintain her image initially.
Despite Higgins being employed by her and her wielding that power, that dynamic is vastly different. They were friends of sorts for years and he had standing lunches with her, which he knew and may have even been instructed to set those up so Rupert could cheat. Rebecca thought she was laughing and smiling with a friend who enjoyed her, he was and he did, who was helping her husband cheat even though it was under threat.
Part of the reason Higgins endures that is because he genuinely cared for Rebecca and he felt guilty about what he helped put her through.
During this entire time, Rebecca isn’t rude, abusive, or threatens any under her. Even when she’s negatively reacting to something they’re doing, she pauses and finds a productive way to address the issue or ignores it.
Hell, she even brushes off Nate insulting her to her face and, in the second season, when Will grabs the boots without saying excuse me, she just moves and looks at him funny.
So even when Rebecca was at her lowest, she wasn’t being a raging asshole to everyone despite her act. And we see that her not mistreating those under her is on brand for her because 2. No one notes the change in behavior from one season to the next 2. How she treats others doesn’t change because she largely treated them well on a person to person basis.
Where as even before Nate got power, he was quick to yell at, put down, or insult people who he deemed as beneath him. Or, when he was especially angry, insulted his boss directly to her face because he thought she fired him. Keep in mind, Rebecca didn’t disrespect Nate at all AND he didn’t know about her scheme. So why was his first reaction to be rude? And he switched up so quickly as well? He didn’t even wait to see what was going on, just jumped to conclusions and immediately attacked.
We remember how he treated Ted and Beard before he found out who they were. Again, rude and to complete strangers at that.
Before Nate became a coach, it wasn’t that he was nice, he wasn’t. Nate was meek because he was beaten down, however, in a situation where he felt he had power, he was and an asshole. It’s not that Nate finally wants power over those who harmed him, he wants to wield power and it may not simply be because he’s always been powerless. To treat strangers how Nate did, to lash out at someone who has never harmed him, despite her power over him?
So when you get to the second season and see Nate being an asshole because he can? Being a complete and utter dick? Like, it would be easier to swallow if he was only rude to those who bullied him. We can get that. But those aren’t his only casualties in his mission for power and dominance. Even then, before beard spoke to him, he targeted players he felt he could get away with making rude comments to. He wouldn’t have ever said that shit to Jamie or Roy if he was still a player. Nate only respects people just as powerful or more powerful than him and that’s not okay.
The way Nate is behaving is antithetical to not only their current clubhouse culture, but also how ted coaches. He’s completely undermining Ted and the growth the players and team has made at large.
And it’s what makes his treatment of Will esp gross. Will is the most powerless person there and Nate knows that. The power imbalance is even more skewed than when Jamie and the others were bullying him. Nate is constantly on will’s ass about the smallest things, perceived or real, and treating him lack complete shit. He’s even gone so far as flat out ignoring him because he’s just the kitman. Will delivers the pens Nate orders and Nate does not acknowledge his presence, and then Colin walks in and Nate acknowledges his presence.
Will does a nice thing for Nate and because someone called him a loser online, he verbally abuses Will and threatens him. That’s fucking wild.
Again, outside of Higgins which is a different story, who has Rebecca treated like that? I’d even argue that Rebecca treated Higgins better than Nate is treating Will and others in general.
Rebecca did learn Nate’s name (or already knew it), supported his promotion, and participated in the surprise announcement. She never treated him or others like they were less than because she owns the club.
Even when you consider his relationship with his dad and how he’s treated, the bullying, and other shit, although those things adds context, it doesn’t explain all of his behavior nor does it erase the active harm he’s doing.
Because what I struggle with is: did Nate mean his apology?
No.
Nate didn’t apologize due to remorse, he apologized because he got caught and is learned how to be a better bully and silence his victim from getting help. Admittedly, part of this falls on ted, beard, and now roy, however, this is largely on Nate.
Nate didn’t suddenly become power hunger and an asshole, he always was. He just didn’t have the power.
Although I do believe he’ll get a redemption arc, I honestly hope they nail this. Because what he’s doing won’t be solved with a “do better” and apology. He also needs therapy, maybe to be demoted for a while, and some other shit I can’t think of.
I also think the other difference between Rebecca and Nate is that she did feel guilt. And I’m not saying guilt is enough to excuse fucked up shit, but it makes a difference when one feels remorse and the other doesn’t.
So you have Rebecca who wasn’t mistreating her subordinates, forming relationships with them, felt remorse, and became accountable when called out (other things happened too). Nate is mistreating his subordinates, not forming relationships with anyone, doesn’t feel remorse, and isn’t accountable when called out. I’ll admit, his story is in progress, however, we’ve seen glimpses of the nasty side of Nate even before he became a coach.
Because of this, we’re reassessing everything we thought we knew about him because most of his behavior isn’t new. He just now how power to wield, which plays into why we’re so unsettled by his development and some actively dislike him.
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Psycho Analysis: Suicide Squad Team A
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(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS! Seriously, as soon as you click that read more, you’re gonna be smacked with SPOILERS! Don’t say I didn’t give you ample warning this time!)
The world’s in danger yet again, and Amanda Waller is in need of some expendable forces to take on some dirty jobs in the name of preserving peace. Last time she did this, it seems like she hired the wrong people. Nice guy Will Smith Deadshot? Bland, boring Killer Croc? El Diablo, who became attached to a bunch of reprobates after spending a couple hours with them? The only one who was useful in that squad was Katana. She had their backs, could cut all of them in half with one sword stroke just like mowing the lawn, and her sword traps the souls of its victims. Unfortunately, she was decidedly not expendable, so what is a girlboss like Waller to do?
Easy: Assemble a brand new squad of criminals to do the dirty work. Harley and Boomerang are the only ones she brought back, because let’s be real, they’re the only ones we give a damn about. Filling out the rest of the squad are the stoic, craggy crackshot Savant; the handsome, German spear-thrower Javelin; the alien warrior Mongal; the frothing, psychotic animal Weasel; the confident and all-powerful TDK; and Blackguard, who is literally just a guy. Together, this team gets deployed to Corto Maltese to do what no one else can do, and with skills like theirs, they are absolutely unstoppable!
They all fucking die before the opening credits.
Motivation/Goals: Considering the goal of the squad is to shave time off their prison sentences by going on the mission, it’s ostensibly the reason every single one of these goons accepted the job. Savant and Weasel are pretty well established in this regard; we get to focus on Savant for much of the opening, so we can get a sense of him, and Weasel is stated to have murdered no less than 27 children. So, yeah, they need to do this mission.
The rest, though? Who knows! Why are Mongal, Javelin, and TDK in prison? How did they even get an alien like Mongal? What did they do to land in the position they’d need to go on a suicide mission? Why doesn’t this movie have flashy, intrusive cards explaining everything to us in a throwaway gag in a montage?!
Blackguard, at least, has some other motivation. He sold out the entire squad to the military of Corto Maltese, which is why they’re ambushed. Now, there’s actually some ambiguity here: Did he do this of his own volition, and was this a complete surprise, or is it, as it is heavily implied, all part of Waller’s plan and she let this happen as a diversion for the other team to get in unnoticed?
Honestly, though, it doesn’t matter what their goals are. They’re all dead within five minutes of the movie starting, with one exception.
Performance: So, the reason these guys are even worth talking about is because, despite their minuscule screentime, all of their actors manage to cram in enough humor and characterization that they’re all pretty fun and likable. Michael Rooker is as stony and stoic as ever as Savant (until he hilariously isn’t), Flula Borg’s Javelin is really sweet and charming in his interactions with Harley, and Pete Davidson’s Blackguard is just amazingly douchey and pathetic. Special mention goes to Nathan Fillion’s TDK, who has an utterly endearing and unwavering faith in his astoundingly crappy ability to… detach his arms. It’s honestly kind of beautiful. Then there’s Weasel as portrayed by Sean Gunn, who is just a hilarious crackhead of an animal man.
Final Fate: Literally every single one of them die horribly thanks to Blackguard’s betrayal. He’s the first to go, because as soon as he walks out saying “Hey guys, it’s me, the one who contacted you!” he literally has his face blasted clean off. The rest go soon after. Mongal, in one of the most astounding moments of idiocy I’ve ever seen, leaps on a helicopter despite Rick Flag telling her specifically not to. Her weight and strength send it careening out of control, which leads to it shredding Captain Boomerang to bits before exploding, burning her alive as she painfully screams and writhes in agony. TDK gets his arms shot into Swiss cheese, leading to him bleeding out since even detached they still are part of him. Javelin is also shot, but gets a dying moment with Harley where he passes her Checkov’s Javelin. Finally, after witnessing all of this carnage, Savant completely loses his shit and tries to swim away, leading to Waller blowing his head up.
You may be wondering what happened to Weasel. He appears to drown as soon as the Squad deploys, because despite being actually smart in this movie, Waller forgot to make sure everyone on the Squad could swim. Thankfully, this lovable child-murdering crackhead rodent was just sleeping, and wakes up in the first credit scene.
Best Scene: Obviously, it’s their one and only scene. It’s a magnificent slaughter that puts the X-Force scene from Deadpool 2 to shame.
Final Thoughts & Score: I’ve gotta hand it to James Gunn. Even though these losers are only onscreen for a few minutes, they all get to cram a lot of charm and personality into that time, to the point it’s actually kind of sad seeing them all die. It’s a beautiful mix of comedy and tragedy. Since their screentime is so limited, though, I’m mostly going to be grading them on style, performance, and so on rather than on villainy like normal. They are all bad guys, as they don’t really get a chance to redeem themselves like the other Squad, so I’m still counting them as villains, which means they could potentially score above an 8 (which is the highest score I’m willing to give heel-face turn villains, because they end up being better as characters in general than as villains).
I’m also not going to talk about Boomerang (I’ll talk about him when I review the original Squad) or Harley (because she not only lives, but deserves her own solo Psycho Analysis). Now here we go, from best to worst:
TDK
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If you thought anyone but TDK would get top marks, you’re sadly mistaken. Seeing Nathan Fillion proudly wield the insanely lame power to detach his arms to lightly tap soldiers on the head and gently grab their guns is a sight I never knew I needed to see until this movie. The fact he just seems so darn proud about this power that he doesn’t even bother to use in any way that would be remotely useful is honestly really endearing. Frankly, the sheer fact they adapted Arms-Fall-Off Boy in any way is enough for me to give him a 10/10.
Weasel
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Weasel is just disgustingly delightful. He’s just a horrible, nasty, ugly little bastard… But he’s kind of adorable? He clearly has no idea where he is at any given time and is just so goddamn freaky that I can’t help but love him. The fact that, despite being a character who in the comics is noteworthy only for dying on his first mission with the Squad, he manages to survive the entire movie is pretty impressive. Hopefully he comes back in the future, but either way he gets an 8/10 from me.
Javelin
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Honestly, aside from Boomerang, his death stung the most. He’s just so cute and charming, and he doesn’t even get to fling his javelin at anyone! Thankfully, he passes it on to Harley, and boy does she ever get to use it! He’s so cute, I have to give him an 8/10. I just wish we got more of him.
Savant
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Savant is just an absolutely hilarious bait-and-switch. We follow him through the prologue, with everything seeming to point to him as our main character and the Squad leader. He’s stoic, he’s cranky, and he has impeccable aim… and then we get to the beach and he just freaks the hell out and starts screaming and crying and running away like a little bitch. Seeing Michael Rooker act like he’s shitting his pants after playing a badass like Yondu is just the sort of hilarious subversiveness that James Gunn loves to do when you let him loose. The fact that he looks like, to paraphrase the TVTropes YMMV page for the movie, a “cyberpunk Tommy Wiseau” is the icing on this 7/10 cake.
Blackguard
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I was prepared to hate this guy just based on how lame Pete Davidson’s costume was, and you know what? I do hate him. But I love to hate him. He’s just an utterly pathetic scoundrel and a coward, true to his name. The fact he is the first to die, as just about everyone predicted, and is killed absolutely gruesomely makes any annoyance he could provide moot, and his freeakout over being seated next to Weasel on the plane is actually kind of funny. I was originally going to give him a 6, but you know what? He can have a low 7/10. He’s like the only member of this particular Squad to actually do anything evil, so I gotta give him props for that.
Mongal
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Let me make this perfectly clear: I do not blame James Gunn or actress Mayling Ng. I’m not actually mad at either of them for what they chose to do, because it is ultimately hilarious and sad. It suited the narrative of the film, and I’m not actually, genuinely mad.
With all that out of the way, Mongal is one hell of a stupid cunt. It is one thing to cause your own death with your stupidity, it is something else entirely to cause the death of a beloved character with your poorly planned attack. The fact she didn’t take into account how her weight and strength would effect an airborne helicopter makes one wonder if she is really supposed to be based on a character who can take on Superman and live to tell about it.
Let’s compare her to two similar characters to really show how bad she is. Like Blackguard, she is directly responsible for a death on the beach, Blackguard being responsible for everyone by selling them out and leading them into an ambush (and yes, I’m including him as well), and Mongal killing Boomerang with the chopper. The difference is, Blackguard’s betrayal was deliberate, he meant to sell the team out, he was actively doing something evil there, while Mongal killed Boomerang out of sheer idiocy.
Now, let’s compare her to Zeitgeist from the similar bloody massacre that occurred during X-Force’s deployment in Deadpool 2. Like Mongal, he accidentally kills a teammate. The difference is, in the case of Zeitgeist, he only accidentally melted Peter, it was a freak accident, and ultimately it does get undone by the end. Meanwhile, Mongal made a conscious, stupid decision and ended up killing her squadmate with her own idiocy. She sucks, hardcore. I don’t do this lightly, but I’m giving her a 1/10. Villains just don’t get much stupider than her.
I will giver her this, though: the makeup work on her is good. She’s lowkey kinda hot if I’m being honest. But being hot and having good makeup does not a good villain make.
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worldsover · 4 years ago
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Judgement to the Desiccated ft. Karina
length ✦ 5573
genres ✧ sm type future; asphyxiation; blackmail; virtual_servant!Karina;
✦✧✦✧✦✧
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Air did a poor job of not being polluted so Lee Soo Man flooded the world instead. The man himself certainly must be long gone and could not have been in charge of that decision but the legacy of his company far exceeds the legacy of any other human collective in history. Once on this planet, gas was the fluid of choice for respiration and breathing was an unconscious reflex. Now there’s Aether by SM. How very on-brand of them to have the liquid air you breathe follow perfume naming conventions.
Open your eyes and exit the sleeping chamber. Aether has you work for each inhalation, it desaturates the color of the bedroom—maybe there’s a subtle but uncomfortable tinge of yellow—and it makes your nose itch. Your muscles wield much less force than they used to because of the lack of resistance the fluid provides. Moreover, it smells like hairspray as though the ozone layer is taking sardonic revenge.
Screens impersonating windows track your eyes to ensure realistic parallax, playing the scene of divine blue heavens that could not exist. An azure sky is a reward for those planets that have an atmosphere and a sun for light to scatter. Your walls are either chrome or drywall white and your whole bedroom is plainly decorated just like the day you moved in.
“Etymology of bedroom,” you think out loud, though it falls on no ears.
“Bedroom is a compound noun consisting of bed and room. Bed goes back to Old English bedd ‘sleeping place, plot of ground prepared for plants,’ which goes back to the Germanic-”
Plants and sleep are both strong words to use nowadays. The former doesn’t exist in nature and it seems you’re the only one who bothers with the latter. Faint buzzing distracts you from the AI’s response and signals you to the nano drones that swim throughout the liquid to process carbon dioxide from your lungs. This whole ordeal could’ve been much worse if you didn’t have brain interfaces doing the hard part of controlling your diaphragm. The most you need is a purposeful thought. Still, it gets tiring having to think the same thought every three seconds. In. Out.
Was the metaphorical Soo Man teaching a lesson in perseverance? You love K-pop and imagine it’s how trainees used to practice dancing, singing, being charismatic. Being an idol had to be as natural as breathing air. Inhale and exhale. Right now with any antiquated programming language you clung on to, you could write a single for loop that did the same job. For every three seconds: breathe in, breathe out.
“What’s for breakfast today?” Not loud enough. “What’s for breakfast?” you think it louder.
“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready for service.” It’s quite a kindness for SM to blur the bland dystopia you live in by augmenting reality through your neural device. A bosomy woman in a gold-lined but otherwise modest maid outfit appears from the corner of your eye and she bows. Ae-Karina is bewitching and almost becoming of her basis as its graphics have gradually upgraded over the rotations but you wouldn’t misconstrue the avatar as human.
“I said, what’s for breakfast!” It feels impolite to scream in your head, there’s other residents there, but finally the fridge lights up.
“Of course master. May I remind you eating is unnecessary?”
In. Out. Every day, she does remind you, yes. How kind of the company to put all your nutritional requirements in the new air. Aether goes in then Aether goes out. You wish the thoughts of breathing could fade into the background but they’re just like your cravings for food. Always hungry but never starving, whole though not once satisfied. Your eyes pause at her gorgeous face and she tells you there’s bacon. Take it from your fridge. Bacon goes in. Well, the drones take care of the out.
Your assigned living space is the entire 207th floor of a tower. Two hundred and seven floors below the surface. The neighbor a few floors upstairs says that he thinks living deeper is a sign of status. What a luxury. That guy should check the status of his facial muscles, maybe improve his code that lets him tell lies while he’s at it. A couple hundred flights of stairs to swim up is a useless skeuomorphism of skyscrapers in the days of the sun. In fact they were more than useless, you would've preferred a single vertical hallway as it would have let you propel upwards unimpeded. Each floor is the exact same, a glass door that affords no privacy for its residence, a false tree on each side. At the upper levels, malls, convenience stores and other gaudy retail, but it’s the gyms that mock you that you mock in return. They’re always empty.
Finally reaching the top is no true break even if it is a change in scenery. Inhale. Aether tastes a little different up here. Exhale. Can’t say you like it.
Countless satellites form a parody of the star from which the planet flew away, the false image refracted by the upper boundary of Aether. They can’t take away your memories of this star. Looking up at the sky once blinded you with ultraviolet radiation, burning your cornea. It was beautiful. Now everyone’s decided that if they’re playing the part of corporate dystopia, they might as well fit the aesthetic. In a way, it’s self-fulfilling. They wouldn’t have chosen a neon pink sun to compliment the blue and metallic gloom of the cityscape if it weren’t so ingrained in popular media already.
Still, you would’ve expected Google or Walmart to become the megacorp responsible for the state of the world, not a Korean entertainment company. Must’ve been quite the red paperclip scenario. Instead of material design or utilitarian architecture, tacky artistic structures line the streets. The same advertisements for albums that they’ve been selling for the past however long. It's all so obvious, the city could've been designed from scratch to accommodate new forms of travel and goddamn liquid air but instead they went with futuristic Tokyo.
Dubstep permeates your inner ear implants. A notification informs your thoughts that it’s “Hip-hop EDM dance pop with a strong jungle house groove and urban influences.” It’s dubstep. Liquid carries barely any sound so SM affords the option for implants if you're nostalgic for one of the senses. Even though it’s a slower form of communication than direct neural transfer, the noise comforts you. Of course the company would choose dubstep as their background music, but maybe they make money off refunds somehow. It switches to Ice Cream Cake. Much better.
You walk the not so busy roads towards a short brick warehouse in the distance and heavy rain soaks your clothes. No such thing as weather without the sun and water but it’s all simulated anyway.
A warm Seulgi adlib and you know it’s Psycho that starts playing. No, none of your senses are real. The most you could trust is your vision but even that’s being lied to. You could be living in a vat and fed all these thoughts, but then why make it so mediocre? Not paradise, nor torture but a lukewarm in-between. Guess that's what happens when SM Entertainment manages the post-apocalypse. Good on them for trying. The alternative would be a frozen hellscape without solar radiation. Can’t deny their work with geothermal and nuclear energy to keep the Aether warm so that you didn’t have to live underground for the rest of human history. It’s quite great PR to save humanity.
“Hey now, we’ll be okay,” repeats a few more times than you remember.
The Idea Factory Alpha White Delta Green says the neon tubes lighting the front of the brick and mortar building. Your ID card bears a name but it’s not yours, not until they approve your name change. Those usually get processed faster with how often people liked changing their names.
Sit at a desk with a sterile white keyboard and slick new monitor. Type and empty words appear on the screen: “Think for the many, not for the one. We need to think ahead.” A thumbs up. The company appreciates the input. That’s probably enough work for one day. Some SNSD live stages help the time pass, SM certainly appreciated the streaming numbers and it would net you some social points.
It’s hard to say what comes to mind when they ask you to envision a world without the sun and air, especially since it’s what you’ve known for... Two hundred years? There’s no frame of reference, that much you can tell from when you counted seconds to see how often the satellites completed their orbit. SM really took time to have them propel at random speeds, they love withholding sensitive information like that from citizens. To be fair, time is sensitive. Guess the meaning of that phrase changes like all parts of language.
Look around. Dozens of employees at identical workspaces all try to answer the same questions. Naturally, there’s no need for manual labor anymore but there will never be a replacement for human ingenuity. Nice slogan but you know you’re only here for data. Can’t see a need for customer retention though—what’s the alternative, skip Earth? See you on another planet?
“Hey bro, you come up with anything new?” Dave says. Two desks away, you see the enthusiastic, surprisingly spry man play around with a Newton’s cradle. The balls at each end bounce back and forth, not slowing down their rhythm any time soon.
“I think I got something,” you say, “Earth is not the answer. It can’t be, long term.”
“Ooh, I like that. Actually, I really like that.”
“What are you gonna do, copy me?”
“Of course not. You know how much SM hates plagiarism.” Click. Clack.
“Ha. As if there’s a single original thought left in the world.” Click. Clack. The imaginary sounds of metal spheres bouncing play in your mind. They got the volume wrong, no way it’d sound that loud from that distance. “You’d think with all their resources, they’d have figured out space travel by now.”
“I don’t think they want to leave, bro. Wouldn’t be great for profits.”
Your mouth opens to laugh and causes laugh8942.mp3 to play in Dave’s head. “I love it. SM probably hates that sass too,” you say.
“Oh no, they’re gonna arrest me for thoughtcrimes. Nah, they love creativity, just when it suits them. Also, if they actually did bust you for wrongthink like rumors say, I wouldn’t have this on me.” Dave twirls a finger and points at you and you thank his absurd flair for the histrionic that keeps you amused with such drab work.
“NewDrug.mp6. Would you like to play it?” the dry system voice notifies you.
“Woah woah there tiger, hold on.” Dave must’ve noticed your intrigued eyes and holds his hands up. “You might wanna experience that at home. But if you’re interested in more, ask for chicken parm at the vegan place. You know the one.”
Dave leaves his desk. He doesn’t return. You finish your work. Inspire. Expire. You’d rather not.
In contrast to your commute to work, the roads fill with others on your way home. You have to know. Take solace in the comfort of a bench where a huge McDonald’s arch bathes the surroundings and its people with a yellow glow. Really shouldn’t watch it now, especially if Dave says it’s a home type of watch but you have to know. A family of five watches you pass out. They, along with every other passerby, ignore your still body draped over the chrome outdoor seating as you look like yet another junkie. The title is correct after a fashion, the simulation is some sort of new drug. The details of the exploits that happen in the immersive replay wash over you but you don’t need them to know that it’s the sort of lewd that SM would not allow—at least not publicly and not without the right exorbitant payment.
Suit pants and underwear go straight to the laundry. That must’ve been an embarrassing sight but no one bothered to stop you, so it doesn’t matter. Look up where this vegan place was that Dave so presumptuously assumed you knew about and you find that it’s about four Avengers’ stores down from work. He must’ve eaten there before.
“Yo Dave, just wanna make sure, what’s the name of the vegan place called?”
“What are you talking about, man? You telling me there’s some secret underground farms that SM wouldn’t know about?”
You can’t tell when you got to work, a lack of standardized timing would help as well the haze of living in a monotonous dark. “Nah, I mean, for the-”
“I have no idea,” Dave emphasizes each word, “what you’re talking about.”
“I see.”
Work flies by, unusually.
“Hey, can I get a chicken-”
“Uh, this is Maron’s Veggies Only, it clearly says on the sign.”
Clear your throat. “Parm.”
The shifty part-time worker looks around and rubs his fingers gesturing for money. “No digital.”
Over the counter, you pass him a gold coin stamped with a holographic 1 and he hands you a USB stick and a laptop in return. How old-fashioned.
“It’ll sync with whoever you have set as your avatar experience aspect,” the worker says.
“Thanks.”
Ever vigilant as the patrol is, the alleys are the last place you want to go to hide with the obvious criminal element within them all but you head to one anyway. Dump the anachronistic technology in your storage pocket dimensions. Looking at its contents, you’d have to clean that mess up later, but the more you look like an average slob the better. The biggest problem with the inventories is all the people squatting in them. Inspectors wouldn’t care about the archaic ruins you left in yours.
“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready to service.”
“I’d like to go on a date. A special date.” You highlight the key word special and sit on your living room couch. No one’s going to look in your glass door and regardless, you wouldn’t be the pervert for glimpsing into someone’s home.
“Ah yes, master. Ae-Karina is ready to fully service,” she says with a provocative tint in her tone, her sclera disperses to black to match. A pole drops from the ceiling while parts of her maid outfit dissolve which reveals more of the silky skin of her thighs, her lissom arms and most importantly her overflowing breasts. Ae-Karina wraps her legs around the pole and spins around, teasing fingers trace curves on her body to harden you. Her dance is precise but sultry regardless. She pulls up her short skirt to flaunt more of her ass beneath white panties and then pulls down to flourish her cleavage, not trapped by a bra. “Are you enjoying your maid’s show?”
“Very much so, yes,” you say.
Half of a smile forms before a glitch occurs and she teleports next to you, fully nude. It doesn’t pull you out of the illusion however. You just stare and drink in the splendor of her created body.
“You’re not going to touch?” Ae-Karina says.
A feel of her tits and you find it softer than pillows you used to rest on. Soft isn’t much of a character that exists anymore when the whole world is engulfed in liquid. No one has beds, especially with the rarity of sleep. Therefore, her mounds are a consummate dedication to the texture as you squeeze and pinch at her cute nipples.
Her maid outfit rematerializes as she straddles you. It provides more friction to your pants as she begins her lap dance. The weight of her body dragging across your legs and clothed erection induces your carnal impulses further. If only you could fuck the virtual idol. You have to make do with the imprint of her pussy lips on your bulge sliding up and down. Breath in. Breath out.
Ae-Karina pulls down your boxers and spits on your erection. It's not real but her hands so slick on your cock and you let reality slip. Real is for the past, you have desires gratified in the present. There is no real person nibbling at your neck but your nerves activate in sexual desire without discernment for truth. No, she doesn't love you, but when the voracious mass of ones and zeroes says it loves its master, you say it back.
"I love you."
ILOVEYOU infected ten million computers in 2000. An explosion. Calibration engaging. It’s 1:21 PM, Sunday, July 18, 2286 and hypothetically the sun would be out in its full rage. At this latitude and longitude, you’re at what was once the epicenter of all—Seoul, where a fountain caused a chain reaction allowing the hopeful remnant of a world to exist. It lasted a surprisingly long time without the sun and without Aether but the dying planet would succumb inevitably to the ever-increasing contamination so SM of all corporations took charge. A different kind of chain reaction occurred when they acquired a restaurant chain that discovered the recipe for liquid air. The law is on its way and prepared to punish you to its full extent.
You reel while your ears ring. An even sexier version of the woman you already fantasized about appears from your peripheral vision in the crater of your floor. A skimpy cop outfit, striated with reflective material that seems to wane black at different angles, outlines Karina’s curves. She has a tool belt with absurd gadgets, such as a knife baton hybrid, a taser combined with a spray bottle and a Tamagotchi. None of this is necessary. They could just immediately arrest you, impose limitations on your devices. Sure, SM cloned people to deal with underpopulation, but why Karina would be the enforcer is a whole nother issue. Maybe the entertainment company loves their irony?
“Halt. You’re under arrest. Any resistance will be penalized according to the combined Terms of Service of all SM and SM associated products.”
Fucked anyway, you figure you might as well go for it. Escape into your inventory and only seconds later you’re forced out. You manage to get what you need regardless.
“Violation of access rights will be charged to your account.”
It’s so obvious but there’s a reason you kept so much gold in physical storage. As you swim away, the sides of your apartment start to bubble. Bubbles? Already, your limbs feel unsteady. Something’s wrong in the Aether.
“This is standard procedure for escaping suspects that are indoors. Again, this is all agreed to under the Terms of Service.”
“When the fuck did I ever click accept to that shit?”
“When you were born in this world and decided you want to stay in it,” Karina says out loud. You hear her say it. Your physical ears process the vibrations in the air that come from her mouth. Gravity thwarts your desperate escape as your limp body floats on the limit between liquid and air. The atrophy of your muscles becomes apparent within the gaseous atmosphere. She watches you sink down as the room drains of all the false air though her eyebrows crease when she inspects you closer. Your breaths are involuntary. Despite your muscles shorting out, the force of gravity and the pressure of the gas bearing down on you, you’re breathing and you don’t mean to. Her eyes wander farther down. On your pants, a concrete rod stamps the fabric.
“Oh, you like what you see?”
“Shut up, criminal. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”
“Your pussy,” you say and she scoffs.
“Original.” Karina bites her lip as your erection continues to grow behind its prison. You use all effort to put your hands up.
“Please, miss Karina. I’ve been bad.”
“I could punish you even more for sexual assault.”
“Then do it.”
Heat radiates the room in a way you haven’t felt in a while and droplets of sweat form on each of your bodies, especially on the thighs that her revealing outfit parades. Her facial features contort in deliberation and the wait kills you. You bat your eyes at her before Karina takes off her tight shorts and drops herself into your anticipatory face. This makes no sense but none of this life made any sense so you decide to go with the tides.
Centuries of training your respiration has led to this moment, but when you finally have real air to breathe, you spit at the opportunity and choose to suffocate. Then you spit at her pussy and lap it up. Karina’s nectar transfixes your olfactory glands, for once a smell that isn’t the sterile Aether. Your eyes are mesmerized in parallel because of the perfect design of her pussy, a single crease that leads into her hole that your tongue emphatically explores. Karina spreads her thighs wide to reveal a small nub that craves attention. So give it. Suck and swirl and flick your tongue, and the woman provides you the tight clench of her legs as a gift. And the sounds, rediscovered glorious noise. Loud, almost too loud, and clear is how they assault your ears, even surrounded by the flesh of her thighs. Muffled by the weight of her legs, you hear Karina moan in approval but she’s still clearly in charge with how she chokes you with her legs. This is not about your pleasure but hers, and any satisfaction that you derive is not only incidental but probably punishable by SM copyright law.
Karina squirms her hips subtly on your mouth. Her eyes are sharp and she’s just about to stop your hands from moving but she notices them clasp together.
“I’ll do anything to make you cum, please.” you say sloppily as her pussy juices fill your cheeks and drip down your chin.
“God. I can’t.” She takes deep, contemplative breaths. ”That’s more time added on for inappropriate behavior.” Her groaning and brief squeals make her words sound incogent.
You give her a concluding lick and a kiss on her slit. “So what have you been doing right now then?”
Point to a corner of the room and a subtle red light indicates a recording camera. At once, she pulls out a hose from a pocket that could not fit it and the vacuum submerges the room with noise. Her expression shifts quickly to serious.
“We don’t play games here in SMTOWN unless it’s SuperStar so don’t fuck with me.”
“Look who's trying to be a comedian. How about you fuck with me any further and the video gets released.”
“That’s funny, you think you have any sort of power-”
“Yoo Jimin, I suggest you don’t push me more.”
“Where do you know that name from? Right now.” She weighs herself down on your neck.
“You think I don’t have contingencies for if I die too? Karina, we can make this a  win-win scenario. We both get to cum, we both get to walk away unscathed.”
“Fuck you.”
Your weak arms wander between her thighs. At any moment, a feeble punch towards your face or another ten seconds of asphyxiation and she could call your bluff. Even if you did have the ability to expose her perversions in any way, there would be no permanent recourse, not as long SM was in charge. So it surprises you when Karina takes off her shorts. 
“Goddammit. Your cock just looks too good. And your mouth, how are you so good with it?” Put up five fingers when she motions to remove her top as well, and instead she opts to take off your clothes, seizing your pants and throwing them to join the rubble in the room.
A finger slips in, then two and a third dares. Her flawlessly architected pussy lips clings to your digits and Karina shudders in reply. You explore her wetness and find it’s smooth to the point of having no faults, but her juice inside is gloppy and causes your fingers to stick more than the liquids she spills from her slit.
“Who said you’re allowed to have more?”
You lap up the nectar on your fingers. “Then why’d they make you taste so good?”
Your thumb teases her sweet tight asshole and puts just the slightest amount of pressure on it while you finger her with more intensity. The mass of her butt burdens your torso the closer she gets to orgasm. Her eyelids squeeze close and you see her body ripple in anxious pleasure. Karina shows off her pearly whites, teetering on the cliff of hysteria.
“Yes, yes! I’m so close,” she screams.
"Not yet."
“Fuck." Karina sobs, "God. Damn, fuck I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just fuck me.”
“My pleasure,” you say. There’s no need for you to grab her since she brings herself down to your groin, which you’re thankful for as your arms are as good as jelly now. Fortunately, your cock throbs as hard as ever while Karina’s slit rests on it.
“Say you’ll delete it all, all the evidence, promise me.”
“You’re gonna fuck me first or what?” Your breath hitches while she makes a strangled noise as her velvety walls swallow your cock whole to leave no room for comfort. Her tightness is stifling and you have to start counting just to breathe again.
“One two-”
“Be quiet.”
But there is no quiet when pleas for your cooperation intersperse her excessive profanities when she seats herself into your cock and ricochets up and down. Sweat emanates from her creamy skin while her legs widen to find a better angle for her supporting knees in her cowgirl position. Grapefruit and other citrus mingle with the scent of the sweat, fruits you haven’t seen except on billboards in music videos. As much as your mind crackles and your blood roars for every atmosphere of pressure Karina’s walls provide on each thrust in and out, you can’t help but reminisce on sweeter, more innocent times.
The white fluorescent lights in your apartment sputter. For all the advancements in technology, some among many things never change. Light refracts differently in air, less bright, but you can see the pure enjoyment on Karina’s face no matter the luminescence. Karina slows her ride to pull her hips down harder instead and she jolts when your cock finds the most tender spots inside her pussy and it interrupts her babbling.
Karina almost hyperventilates when she gets up to spit on your cock. She pulls out some kind of meter from her tool belt and sighs when there’s no beeping and you recognize it having to do with carbon dioxide. She gets back to dribbling saliva and the filament trailing down to your shaft mesmerizes you. This spit is real, not simulated, and it wettens your erection in a mix with her pussy juices to paralyze you further in your already listless state. Her bare thighs jiggle and you can’t exert much force with your hands but her buttcheeks are firm with just a bit of give.
“Thank you for this cock, thank you for being bad,” Karina says as you watch her ass sink deeper while her pussy holds your dick taut. She’s frenetic when bounces up and down to play an unadulterated orchestra of slick noises between your groins.
“You’re welcome,” you accomplish getting out the words between planned breaths. Your hands cup her buttcheeks but you fear they may break with how she strikes her ass into you.
Karina turns around once more to give you the spectacle of her facial expressions as she fucks herself into you. Knead her calves laying on your torso and they take no energy to spread them though she brings them back together, compressing your hard shaft within her pussy. A new game you play with her, a separate rhythm of loosening and tightening. Her feet press on your chest to help her bounce, but the way they bear down on your lungs against the timing of your breathing causes you to fumble. Your cock bends straight forward as she plunges herself into you and it sends prickles to your entire skin, making the new angle difficult but worth it. Karina takes your hand and starts sucking on your fingers.
“You want my promise that bad?” you say.
“Yes, as bad as I want your cum. I swear, I need it.”
She draws her knees up to her torso and hugs her legs to keep thighs as tight together as possible. Karina couldn’t keep her word, she was trying to kill your cock with constriction.
“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight. God, Karina, fuck. You’re so good.” Even if good isn’t the word you want to use to describe her.
“Do it, please, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby. Karina can be a good girl, a good maid, a good cop, whatever you want. Just don’t get me in trouble, please.”
Karina’s mouth stops saying words though her lips writhe, drunk in increasing lust. Her cheeks flush, before the rest of her skin joins in redness while she grapples your chest and whatever spare limb she can find. You still struggle wresting control of your body but nature seems to take over when you drive yourself into her and match her needy cadence. The air in the room is replaced by a new air but it isn’t Aether. Passion, sweat, heat and all fluids that you both exude join squelching sounds, slaps and moans in harmonic bliss when her body tenses and she screams. As her body tightens, her pussy especially holds your cock for dear life and endeavours to wring out all your semen as her wetness throbs and spills. Karina starts counting to three repeatedly and you laugh though your amusement quickly subsides when you feel her juices become more viscous and she continues her ride, even in the dying pulses of her climax.
“Was I good?” Karina asks.
Just a moment goes by before you mentally send her a screenshot of all the recordings being deleted. Karina hasn’t stopped fucking you yet so at least it wasn’t a ploy.
“Thank you, thank you, I love you.” The flexion of her pliant legs brings them all the way back to rest on top of your legs. Karina lays prone above you and finally give you a kiss. The citrusy flavor may be closer to lime than grapefruit but it’s been so long that you can’t remember which scent is which. Lips crash and her tongue lashes out at yours trying to establish dominance. Keep still to let her investigate your mouth while her pussy does the same to your shaft.
You savor the way Karina’s top emphasizes the bouncing of her tits synchronous with the rebounding of her waist on your cock, but your mouth waters when she frees them. Take the shortest moment to relish in the sight before Karina smothers you with her plump globes. You wriggle your face to try to breathe. Inhale, up and exhale, down, but all you inhale is the scent of her orbs’ sweat. Her hips undulate with a pace at least double yours breathing and the echoes of slapping flesh resonate throughout the air-filled chamber. The loudness is unlike any you’ve experienced in a long time. It’s almost a flashbang every time her ass slams into your lap, especially as you start to see white when orgasm threatens to overload you with preludial pulses.
The last words you hear infected ten million computers in 2000. Fade to black. Cut. You’re slammed out of existence back into existence as a sun rebirths both within you, heating your core to a dangerous high, and from your eyes, dazzling you in an unforgiving white light. In the throes of unconsciousness relapsing to consciousness back to tenebrosity, your streaks of semen suspend in the Aether like a dead tree resting from the wind. What flashes your mind in its orgasmic state are two things only you would remember, plants and weather. Your hyperventilation is unconscious but not unwelcome, as it’s the first time in a while your breaths were reflexive even in the liquid air. However, basking in your newfound power, you start to choke. Right. You breathe in and out again. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. Back in.
“Replaying KarinaArrestsYou.mp6.” A hint of vexatious glee in the system’s otherwise dry voice. You don’t stop for it.
✦✧✦✧✦✧ 
AFF, AO3
It’s pretty silly but the idea danced around in my head ever since I saw the absolute Black Mirror concept that SM had for aespa and I concur that Karina is insanely hot.
As I’m writing this, this Kurzgesagt video on the idea of a rogue Earth comes out and now I have to rewrite stuff to make it at least a little consistent. I’m obviously already going nuts with all these ridiculous sci-fi concepts but this video almost feels too targeted to me writing this for me to ignore it.
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bigskydreaming · 4 years ago
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I kinda wanna fucking scream, so here, have a offline bullshit rant post.
So I’ve literally been trying to get my stupid fucking meds for over a MONTH now at this point, which I’m sure you can all see like, my mood is just wooooonderful these days. Not an excuse, casual reminder that yeah you do gotta take care of your own space so if my mood is dragging anyone down, I’m totes on board with blocking or unfollowing or y’know, burning me in effigy or something. Okay maybe not that last part. But still. You get it. And its not even that like, I need mood stabilizers per se, lol, so shout out to the armchair diagnosticians helpfully peppering my inbox still in their quest to oh so slickly be like ‘hey you’re a hot mess, take your hot messness away from tumblr’ like lol, didn’t ask.....nah, its mostly the perpetual lack of sleep and chronic pain issues that I have zero distraction from when my specific combo of meds isn’t able to let me actually weaponize my ADHD properly and power through that. Its a whole thing. Whatever. Just go with it.
POINT IS. So I’ve been trying to do this for over a month now, first obstacle was even just getting the money together for my refill appointment which is a whopping $150, because I have to pay out of pocket for mental health stuff these days because I had to switch my insurance over to something that paid out more heavily for physical benefits like my jaw surgery.....and because of the pandemic, and how many psychiatrists in my area and that I could actually reach aren’t taking new patients during the pandemic since most of them are conducting business virtually still, like, I have barely any resources for seeking out and trying new psychiatrist offices in the meanwhile that might charge less and I’m kinda stuck with the one I have because the last thing I can afford is to have like, NO psychiatrist at the moment, y’know?
So first I had to have that to even BOOK the appointment, which took forever because rent and food are a joy to accrue when you can barely manage to function as an actual employee of the capitalist machine ahfsklhflkahflakf, but so then I did that and like, got an appointment put on the books for August 19th. That was the soonest they could fit me in back when I paid them for my appointment about a week and a half ago. No, two weeks ago now? Eh, time is fake. ANYWAY, so that wasn’t gonna work for me, so basically the entirety of last week was devoted to constantly calling and trying to check in every other hour to see if they had any sooner cancellations I could take, because for whatever fucking reason, they just ‘don’t do’ a cancellation list wherein they call the next person on the list once they have a cancellation. Whatever.
So finally got a cancellation slot with a virtual appointment last Saturday night at random as fuck 8:40. Okay cool. Most of my refills are fairly simple, no real changes, but two are controlled substances so like, they have to do their due diligence and go through the proper protocols before giving me another prescription to one or whatever. Fine. Okay.
So I call the CVS they sent the prescription for my ADHD med to, the very next morning. One of the controlled substances, and the key med to like....making me functional instead of a rambling disjointed whirlibird of a thought emitter. Problem is, that medication is on back order. Won’t be in until Tuesday. Ugh. Okay, fine. Nothing I can do about it, because while the specific provider I spoke to in order to GET my refill prescriptions was taking an appointment the night before, the actual offices that schedule appointments and connect patients through to their providers was closed for the weekend, so I couldn’t even ask for them to send the scrip somewhere else.
SO. I go back to the CVS on Monday, hoping that maybe it came in early because not like I can do much else in the meanwhile. Course its not there, but oh well. I toy with the idea of calling to ask my provider to send the scrip to a different pharmacy (only had it sent to this one cuz its within walking distance to me, and since I can’t drive for medical reasons and Uber’s are expensive as fuck, just for errands, like, even though walking is sooooo not fun for me physically, like it is what it is). I decide against it because here’s another fun fact about this controlled substance....for security reasons, pharmacies don’t have to tell people over the phone if they have it in stock or not. Like, they won’t just say no we don’t have it in stock - I mean, they WILL say that, but that doesn’t actually mean anything because that’s what most of them say about that particular medication no matter whether or not they DO, and then just cite security protocols, so you have to actually GO to the store in question to ask them and even get a real answer to whether or not they even HAVE it in stock to FILL a prescription if its sent over. And no, the provider won’t just send scrips into several different pharmacies at once and just be whichever has it in stock can fill it - because again, controlled substance.
SO. I decide its not worth it to try getting the scrip sent over somewhere else, because I’d have to at least waste money on an Uber to even travel to various pharmacies and even check if they CAN fill it sooner than this one, when at least this place will have it in tomorrow. Its just one more day at this point.
Except then I go back on Tuesday. Oh sorry, don’t know why that other person told you we’d have our order in today, our shipments of that medication don’t come in until Wednesdays.
So I go back Wednesday. Success! They have it in stock. I go to pay, pulling out my goodRx coupon that was just printed out that morning, specifically citing the price for CVS at Target. The pharmacy manager says sorry, we don’t honor that coupon here for controlled substances like this one. I say: record scratch? He’s like yeah, that’s at the discretion of individual pharmacies, and we don’t honor that price for this specific medication, because we don’t want to attract customers only coming here to get that medication filled for that price. (This pharmacy is right at the edge of Inglewood and Culver City, for anyone who is familiar with those neighborhoods. The implications are exactly as they appear to be). So I’m like, what’s the regular generic price? He quotes me something that’s $180 more than the coupon, and thus $180 more than I have since I was focused totally on getting THIS amount ASAP, so I could get these meds so I could do more work and make more money. You see the train of thought. I’m like well that’s awesome, I don’t have anything close to that. Hey. Weird question. Why did nobody I talked to the past three days in a row that I’ve walked into this store in person to request this refill, like, mention this little tidbit about not honoring this coupon so instead of waiting for a backorder that would do me no good, I could have been spending that time having my prescription transferred somewhere that WOULD honor it?
He’s like, well did you mention to any of them that you’d be using a goodRx coupon for this particular medication? I said, yup. He said, you sure? I said well the specific process each time was I came in, I asked if this medication was in, they said what’s your name and date of birth, I provided that info, they said are you paying out of pocket, we don’t have valid insurance info for this on file for you, I said yup paying out of pocket with a goodRx coupon, they said *clickety clack of the keyboard* nope, sorry, we won’t have this medicine in until Tuesday, I mean Wednesday. 
He’s like, well you must be misremembering or they would have told you at the time that we don’t take GoodRx coupons on this medication. I’m like, dude, it was you. It was literally you that I spoke to two of those three times, right here at the counter, in person. I’m gonna go ahead and trust my memory of those interactions and what was said there over yours since you don’t actually remember having talked to me two times in the last three days. He’s like, I gotta go help another customer. There is no other customer. I leave. Fun day for everyone.
So then I call around town to at least check which CVS will actually honor the coupon I have and the price that I can afford to pay it at. I don’t bother asking if they even have the medication in stock because I know its not guaranteed to be a CORRECT answer, but at least I can see who accepts this damn coupon. Also, reason I’m only trying big brand pharmacies instead of smaller, hole in the wall ones is because again, controlled substance, and I know from experience that the bigger brand pharmacies are at least more likely to have that med in stock whereas most smaller ones tend to run out very quickly as they usually only get enough for their existing/regular customers and a little extra.
I find a CVS five miles away - not walkable, gonna have to Uber. Call my psychiatrist office again to ask them to transfer the scrip, front office says they’ll send the request to my provider, who usually checks and fulfills such requests in 24-48 hours. I’m like okay cool, can I get a phone call to let me know when that happens, so at least I know when to check back to follow up if it hasn’t happened yet for whatever reason? They’re like no, the pharmacy will send you a text or call when they get the prescription sent over and you can take it from there with them. I’m like okay, but I’ve done this a bunch of times and know from experience the pharmacy does NOT in fact always call or text, so is there a certain time to follow up to inquire if the provider has already sent the scrip and the pharmacy SHOULD have it by now or if the delay is on the provider’s end? Front office is like yeah no. I’m like, swell.
So that was yesterday. I call the pharmacy (which I still don’t even know if they have the medication IN STOCK to fill the scrip even once they GET the scrip, and won’t until I can actually Uber out there, but one thing at a time at this point) at like 9 pm, they’re a 24 hour pharmacy, and they’re like nope, we got nothing (this is after spending an hour and a half on hold to even TALK to someone at the pharmacy). Called them again today at noon, still nada. Technically I have another 29 hours before the window in which the provider is supposed to send the refill scrip to this new location, before I can be like, okay so they still haven’t done it, can we send him a nudge or another request. The 24-48 hour window will only actually EXPIRE after their offices close on Friday meaning it’ll be Monday before I can even actually REACH someone again to ask them to send the scrip again, if the pharmacy hasn’t ACTUALLY gotten it by Friday night, and pessimistically, I’m not super inclined to assume that they will at this point. 
I’m antsy, irritable, hungry because I don’t even know for SURE sure if the new pharmacy will ACTUALLY honor the coupon or say no sorry we don’t do that here either, whoever told you that was wrong, or if they’ll even actually have it in stock versus I’ll have to have it sent somewhere else AGAIN, so I have to pinch every penny possible in order to ensure I have the most money possible once my prescription IS filled in case the price is more than I expected again or in case I have to take Ubers there or further than I expected or basically....shit happens that I don’t expect. And this is what I’m basically spending all my time doing instead of working, because trying to get work done in this state is like....the harder I try to make it happen, the less it actually gets done, so I try and prioritize this and its roadblock after roadblock dragging out and wasting my time, and like yeah, I can post and shit while I’m doing this aka sitting on hold or walking around town trying to get shit filled because its fine if I ramble incoherently along the way in posts, but actual WORK work requires like....fucking coherency and succinctness and not having to stop and start every five minutes to call someone else, and oh yeah, being able to power through migraine spikes. And just.
I’m very annoyed about anything and everything to do with this shit. The hoops you have to jump through to even get the stuff that like....actualizes your hoop jumping ability, is just....*gnashing of teeth*
Anyway. So that’s my offline bullshit rant. Yay. The end.
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astranva · 5 years ago
Text
Power BFFs.
// masterlist //
Word Count: 2.1k
Category: Fluff best friend!harry, best friend!reader
Warning: None!
Summary: In which Harry’s best friend is a hijabi blogger and they’re everyone’s bffs’ goals.
Bonus: Instagram posts!
..
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For as long as you lived, you have always been into fashion. You were the kid who chose to wear pink with orange long before Taylor Swift’s dress was the new cool, always one whom family went to for advice when it came to putting outfits together.
Hell, if someone could pay you for the times your mom was on the phone with your aunt or a friend and you heard her tell them “Y/N can help you with putting the clothes together! She studies fashion. Yeah, not a doctor but she’s doing a good job” you would be a billionaire.
You remember how shocked your parents were when you told them that you wanted to switch majors. How could they not when you told them that you decided to leave med school for fashion?
But you wouldn’t have taken the step if it weren’t for your longtime best friend – Harry.
You and Harry have been best friends for as long as you could remember, having had been your friend long before you even wore the hijab and you remember when you were 16 after deciding to wear it, having sat him down one day and explained to him what it meant.
He has always been supportive of you, and you, of him. You lost count of how many times you had helped him with his wardrobe choices, and every time he was more thankful that he had someone who was daring with fashion and saw it as he did; a form of expression.
You had a good relationship with his fans long before you decided to enter the fashion blogging world, and maybe fans liked you more because of how carefree and natural you were and how innocent and supportive your friendship with Harry looked. Hell, he talked about you whenever he mentioned his family and if that said anything, it would be that he saw you a Styles, a sister.
It was always fun whenever you styled Harry for an appearance, only so the both of you could sit back and watch their tweets and comments, always freaking out and gushing over how good he looked because of your fashion choices, adding memes along the way.
“How does that look?” You asked him, holding a dress on a hanger of you, looking down at the vibrant green color.
Harry, with 3 shopping bags in his hands and his eyeglasses on, shifted his weight on one leg before bringing his finger to his chin and he looked at the dress. “Think it makes your skin look a little dull, not pop.”
“You think so?” You mumbled as you moved to a mirror, nodding, “You’re right. God, I hate green.”
He chuckled, “No you don’t.”
“Olive green is nice, when we’re talking about trousers and skirts but tops and dresses? No, thanks. Looks good on you though, you lucky bastard.”
“Watch out, you’re looking a little green now, love.” Harry teased, a dimpled smile on his face.
“Oh, shut up, I’m not jealous of you.” You scoffed jokingly, fixing your headscarf to avoid looking at him, “Maybe a little.” You added, laughing quietly as Harry laughed.
“I think they have a beige one, hold on.” Harry’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he looked around before walking towards a rack, searching through the colors of dresses for the one color he knew his best friend loved. “Ha!” Harry smiled in triumph as he reached the color, getting your size before holding it out for you.
You sighed in relief, “You are an angel. Sometimes.”
Harry rolled his eyes at you with a chuckle, handing you the dress before you both agreed to pay and head somewhere to have dessert for a treat.
You smiled at the cashier, watching as her eyes widened as she looked from Harry to you. “How are you?” You asked politely.
“Oh my God. Y-You’re-“ She looked at you before looking at Harry who smiled at her, too, “And you’re-“
“And you’re Sasha. Hi, Sasha.” You giggled, reading her name from her tag, “You know this goof?” You joked, pointing at Harry, “Was following me everywhere here,” you cupped a hand around your mouth, though still speaking at a tone louder than a whisper, “Think he’s a bit of a creep.”
“Hey!” Harry whined but laughed, “Don’t listen to her, love. She’s only doing that because I look better in green.”
It wasn’t unusual for you and Harry to tease each other, and it wasn’t new either that you did it in front of people. Perhaps it’s why people enjoyed being around the both of you together.
“You’re both adorable,” the girl laughed, finally calming from her moment, “I’m a huge fan of the both of you. And Y/N, congratulations on your new collaboration with Tommy Hilfiger. I think it’s amazing that you’re helping in representing more people in the industry.”
Your mischievous expression changed to a softer one, your hand going to your heart as your eyes twinkled.
“Right? Bloody talented that one is.” Harry smiled proudly as he glanced down at you, “Making history as she goes.”
“Aw, stop it, you two. I’m going to cry.” You cooed, “Thank you, Sasha. This means the world to me. Think this made my entire week.”
“It’s no problem,” she beamed, “I wouldn’t let you pay if I owned the store but…” she frowned.
“Hey, no. It’s your right. We all have bills to pay and as much as it would be nice, favors don’t really pay the rent.” You smiled with a shrug, handing her the money.
“Okay, true.” Sasha agreed, packing your dress before handing you the bag. “It was amazing meeting the both of you.”
“You think it’s okay if we get a picture together?” You asked before looking at Harry, “Can you take a picture of us?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Oh my God,” Sasha fanned herself before letting out a deep breath, shakily handing Harry her phone, “This is the best day I have ever lived in since I started working here.”
You giggled at that, watching her move from behind the cashier before she reached you. The both of you stood beside each other, you wrapping both arms around her as you smiled, her beaming as Harry took the picture – he took 3, just in case the girl didn’t like one of them – before you reached your hand out.
“Here, let me take your picture.” You said, taking the phone from Harry before exchanging places so you can snap a picture of him and the girl together.
As if to tease you, Harry made the same pose as yours, causing you to roll your eyes before you jokingly told him to “be original” to which he wrapped one arm around Sasha while the other was close to his face as he threw a peace sign – a classic Harry pose.
After hugging Sasha goodbye, you and Harry were on your way to his car to go somewhere else to have dessert and maybe spill the latest tea like you always did.
“I’m not so sure about working with them,” You said after taking a sip from your smoothie, resting your chin on your hand as you talked about a brand that had reached you for a collab, “Think they want it so they can look cool, you know? They don’t really care about the message or the representation of hijabi women and I just don’t want to get treated like the next cool trend and hey! Bonus for having a rockstar best friend. It’s ridiculous.”
Harry’s arms were crossed on the table, face showing concentration as he listened intently and nodded in understatement. “I get it. Sorry about that, love,” he sighed, “Wish I can do something about it. Feel helpless when I can’t seem to find any solution to offer.”
“Harry,” you rolled your eyes, “You’ve done enough for people. Besides, you’re growing and learning. This is the best solution.”
“Yeah?” He asked reluctantly, “Just sucks whenever I find the shit they write to you online. Don’t know how you do it.”
“What? Getting told that I’m oppressed even though it was my choice and the racist comments?” You chuckled a little, “Got bothered by it enough already. Just sick of justifying my choices. It’s like,” you thought before your eyebrows went up before pointing at him, “It’s like people with you and how you dress. The mean comments about your choices and the head-scratching comments about why you wear nail polish.”
“Took me long enough to feel comfortable in my skin.” Harry admitted, sighing with a shake of his head, “Wish people would just let people be.”
You shrugged, “Mean people are everywhere, it’s mostly about not letting yourself be one now. I actually feel like we’re at a time when people are unlearning most shit they blindly followed by older generations, the racism, the sexism, the double standards. This is generation is just,” you smiled, “It’s phenomenal, don’t you think?”
Harry joined in, giving you a smile and a nod, “It is. I’m where I am because of all these young people. Music legends are legends and are basically worshipped because of all the young women of their days. Sometimes I can’t even wrap my head around how societies belittle these people so much.”
“Right? They care more about shaping them than helping them unleash all this potential. It’s why they’re so angry sometimes, but so driven. Like, they had enough of silence and are now taking matters in their own hands.” You said, “But to be honest, it’s can be kind of sad sometimes.”
“How so?” Harry asked, sipping his smoothie.
“Like now you have people as young as 13 doing what world leaders should be doing. Really young people trying to teach older people why sexism is wrong and how they can help the Black Lives Matter movement and why they should. They shouldn’t be defending rights and protesting and dying, they should be worrying about their moms not cutting the crust off of their toasts or maybe some high school crushes. But it has to be done, you know? And if world leaders are staying silent, somebody needs to change that even if they’re only 13 for the love of God.”
That was the thing about yours and Harry’s friendship. While you both bickered like children all the time, you also always had heart-to-heart conversations that you couldn’t have with anyone and everyone. It was always comforting.
There were times when you didn’t agree with each other but it was never embarrassing or immature, you’d both state your point of views and find common grounds. It was never about winning an argument because you never could call it an “argument”, just a talk.
“How’s the tour rescheduling going?” You asked, the both of you drifting to another conversation.
//
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harrystyles: Proud of you. Always.
..
fan0 CRYING
fan1 power bffs don’t @ me
fan2 are they dating? pls say yes
↳ fan3 when will people stop ruining friendships with shit like that?
yourinstagram are u sick?
↳ fan4 me when my family is nice to me
↳ fan5 me when my friends invite me to places
↳ harrystyles …
yourinstagram you know it all, H. you’re the best best friend anyone could ever wish for. cool photographer too. ❤❤❤
↳ fan7 HE TOOK THAT PICTURE HE’S SO TALENTED
↳ fan8 Hélène Pambrun who? We only know ✨Harry Styles✨
↳ yourinstagram don’t do my girl Hélène dirty like that
annetwist Looking beautiful! 😘
↳ fan8 I love this friendship sm
↳ yourinstagram says you! miss you loads xx
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yourinstagram: harry out here looking like mr. pringles on a sour cream & onion can and i love it
..
fan0 HAHAH DEAD
fan1 ADHQWJDIEFIGHEFH HONTENT
fan2 y/n taking the piss at harry is my favorite thing
fan3 10 years of y/n giving us the hontent we need and deserve
↳ yourinstagram happy to provide
user aren’t muslims not allowed to drink wine?? why is harry holding one and why are YOU taking a picture of it? Lol
↳ fan4 leave her alone
↳ fan5 you know she’s free to do anything she wants, right?
↳ yourinstagram this is the amazing chef Massimo Bottura’s dark cherry balsamic vinegar but go off
↳ fan6 ENDED
fan7 This friendship makes me sleep better at night
harrystyles Is this because I look good in green?
↳ fan8 AJDGFKJWOI SHOW OFF
↳ fan9 I love them so much
↳ yourinstagram i dislike you sometimes
↳ fan10 ^ me because harry won’t release studio versions of medicine and anna
↳ harrystyles Love you, too.
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 yourinstagram: silky
..
fan0 LOOKS LIKE HARRY’S OUTFIT FROM TOUR IN NETHERLANDS
fan1 imagine looking like that
fan2 this is an au where harry is a hijabi woman
[harrystyles liked this comment.]
↳ fan3 OH MY GOD HE LIKED
↳ fan4 he: confirmed
harrystyles A look.
↳ fan5 I want to thank the queen y/n for teaching harry online lingo
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everythingsinred · 4 years ago
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Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 5)
I'm back on my bullshit. I decided I'd post these, once a day, four days a week. Then I'll go on breaks for the weekend to let interested readers catch up while also further writing more entries. At the time I'm posting this, for example, I'm in the process of analyzing Chapter 39. That way, it's easier for everyone to enjoy this essay. Which I hope people do.
Anyway, this can finally truly be called a ship essay, because one of our key players has FINALLY developed feelings! Going forward, Natsume's behavior will heavily feature his growing affections for Mikan. We'll be analyzing Natsume's self-preserving hesitation as well as his immediate instinct to give up any chance he has from the get-go.
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Chapter Seventeen
Natsume next shows up to walk into Class B during a commotion of Mikan’s retelling of the Reo incident. The kids all gather around him now too to ask questions and press about his condition. One kid even asks if he should teach Mikan a lesson for bragging about his rescue. Mikan smiles at him, under the assumption that their shared trauma has brought them closer and maybe even made them friends, but Natsume’s response is to simply turn away and ignore her.
He’s still Natsume after all. This is the first girl he’s ever liked, and she used to be somebody he despised, so the change in feelings is probably very strange to him. He’s confused and possibly embarrassed. He doesn’t know what to say or how to act.
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Can't have her getting any ideas that he's completely changed his mind about her or anything.
Most of the people that Natsume likes at the school (although that is just Ruka and Youichi… so… you know) know that he likes them. He spends time with them, is gentle with them, does things for them, and can openly say kind things to and about them. Mikan is different. He used to be her number one enemy, so all of a sudden switching gears and becoming her friend would be quite odd.
Over time, Natsume will find ways to be gentle and sweet to Mikan, but for now his crush is brand new and he doesn’t know how to act quite yet. He’d rather avoid her entirely, or pretend like nothing happened, than openly approach his new feelings.
Furthermore his behavior is always and under all circumstances inseparable from his status as Persona’s favorite and as the Black Cat. He may have some loved ones, but he keeps the number low and tries to avoid getting close to people for a reason. Naturally, nobody could ever really understand his experiences so there will always be a divide between him and the rest of his peers, but even more than that is that considering people precious turns them into targets.
Natsume has probably learned the hard way that displaying closeness and affection for his friends can have dangerous effects, so he might now think of showing that kind of affection as selfish or even cruel. Why subject somebody to something like that, merely because he has feelings for them? It’s not fair.
In either case, it’s really not that Natsume is naturally mean and cold. He just doesn’t trust his situation enough to properly act. It’s safer in every way to just pretend like nothing changed. It’s too much to deal with otherwise. But sooner rather than later, the hard thing will be staying away. Eventually, maintaining coldness with her will be almost impossible.
Chapter Eighteen
This chapter further touches on Natsume’s new-found crush and its consequences.
Class B is used to being in an environment where Natsume hates Mikan and is bothered by everything she does. He gives in to her slightly, in small ways, and it shocks his classmates. Now, it’s understandable that, even if he hadn’t developed a crush on her, he might still be softer to a girl who risked her life to save him, but it’s still odd.
Mikan recalls asking Natsume for help training her alice. She needs an offensive alice to nullify, so Iinchou or Hotaru’s would be ineffectual in training. Natsume is really the best person to ask, and, to everyone’s surprise, he actually agrees to help.
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Natsume doesn't need any convincing to help her, but what did she think practicing with a fire alice would entail?
And yes it does seem like he’s only doing it to torture her, because his alice is capable of genuine bodily harm and his admirers snicker with amusement at his antics, but I can’t help but assume there’s more to it.
He doesn’t really hesitate to help. He doesn’t need convincing at all. In some ways I think he did genuinely want to help. Her alice helped save his life, after all. Why not repay the favor by using his alice to help her train? To him, there's a lot of value in her alice, so training it is beneficial in his perspective as well.
And later still, Mikan spots Natsume sitting amongst the principal students. He stands out, as an elementary student next to upperclassmen. This moment is a good introduction to the arc. His crush on Mikan only grows stronger as the festival goes on, but there’s something looming over him too--he’s different from the rest of them. He stands out so much during the festival. He’s a dangerous ability type who’s not allowed to participate while also being a principal who has to sit on the stage for the opening ceremony. That's horribly ironic, but also shows just how singled out and under the spotlight he is. It’s a huge part of why he acts the way he does, so cold and mean and distant despite his growing affections. It’s all he can do.
He may see potential for a future, but he��d be foolish to think he should be able to acquire it, because his current circumstances have not changed at all.
The chapter ends with Natsume being asked by Koko if he wants to try out the special ability class event. He’s looking towards the special ability area, and we can tell the next chapter will be fun.
Chapter Nineteen
And how!
Natsume is here to see Ruka, his best friend, but he’s also here to catch a glimpse of the girl he has a crush on.
Sumire is also there, and it’s interesting to see that Natsume hasn’t changed in his attitude around her either, even though she also helped save him. She tries to embrace him and he dodges her.
This catches some people’s attention and they start to whisper about his presence.
In the anime, this moment is a bit more potent, hearing the murmurs and seeing a darkness over the gossiping kids, but the manga still establishes that the people waiting in line are by-and-large unhappy to see him. They whisper amongst themselves, rudely asking why he’d bother to come here, but that gloom only lasts for a moment (one singular panel and then Natsume’s responding bitterness) before Mikan appears jumping over the wall, calling his name and even smiling.
It’s almost like she was waiting for him to show up, running off from her post the second she heard Natsume was there. The dark looming screentones are replaced with flowery ones, and it’s hard not to think of this as his perspective: all is gloomy and then there is Mikan. All of a sudden, after hating her for so long, he thinks of her as bright sunshine, and he must have showed up just to see her and feel nice for a change.
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It's Natsume seeing Mikan through floral-filter lenses for me...
Of course, he ruins the mood. It feels almost as if he does it solely because he knows it will upset her. She was so excited to see him, and he manages to completely turn her mood from eager to angry, just the opposite of how she was able to unwittingly turn his mood from gloomy to... as close to content as he can get.
He’s okay now. He doesn’t want her getting any ideas.
Now, in my opinion, his method of bothering her could be anything and the plot would remain the same. What matters is that he wants to piss her off, and this just so happens to be the way he does it, partially because it’s intended to be funny. Mikan has to get angry at him for this chapter to progress the way it does, but his actions could have been replaced by any other irritating action and it could’ve gone the same way.
Tsubasa then appears, drawn to the sound of a loud commotion. He sees Natsume and vaguely wonders why he’s there. Everyone knows Natsume, at all grade levels, because he’s famous. For Tsubasa, whose only real knowledge of Mikan’s relationship with the kid is that he causes trouble in Class B, it would be strange to see him at the RPG.
Natsume, meanwhile, has no idea who Tsubasa is. Seeing Mikan crawl all over her senpai, seeing him easily comfort her, is something that bugs Natsume. He glares at Tsubasa, somebody whose name he doesn’t even know, and then starts leaving with Ruka.
At first, Tsubasa is confused to be treated like this, until he hugs Mikan tighter and sees both Natsume and Ruka turn in jealousy. Tsubasa gets it immediately. Thus begins a strange and tumultuous frenemy relationship between Tsubasa and Natsume, where they both begrudgingly understand each other while also irritating each other beyond belief.
Natsume is not interested in playing the game, insulting it and wondering how anyone could get hooked on it. Ultimately, it’s not even Mikan who convinces him to give it a shot; it’s Tsubasa taunting him, “then you should be able to win, no problem, right?”
Tsubasa will come to regret saying this, because the answer is yes.
The RPG is designed to be tough. Nobody has won the whole game yet. Beating one or two students is one thing, but being able to outsmart or outmaneuver the entire special ability class is a difficult feat.
Natsume agrees to play, and gets a robot cockroach as a weapon.
Tsubasa is hugging Mikan as Natsume is about to enter, and that pisses him off even more. He decides that Tsubasa will be his slave, his motive being get your hands off her. This is silly considering that just a short time ago, Natsume hated Mikan. His feelings really did a 180.
The challenges pick up in difficulty as he goes on. The first one is effortless. He doesn’t even move from where he’s standing. The mirror-alice girl just freaks out about the cockroach and sends him on his way after two seconds.
The next one is trickier, and Natsume will need to put in more effort than just standing and waiting for the cockroach to do its job. But not that much effort. He sits next to Megane, lights a fire, and waits. It’s a scorching flame, and although Megane tries to tough it out, he gives in with two seconds to spare. Natsume, a smartass, quips sarcastically that he’s sorry--he really can’t tell how hot it is. (This is not actually important or anything, it’s just interesting that Natsume is not affected by his own flames and can’t feel the heat of them. I might end up referring to this a couple times.)
With the exception of the first and last challenges, Natsume uses his alice to beat the maze; either by heating Megane up so his soul goes back into his body, or by writing with fire instead of chalk. The next challenge is the one Natsume has been waiting for and he’ll use his alice here too.
Tsubasa is shocked to find Natsume has progressed so quickly, but he proceeds with the challenge: Natsume has to touch him in thirty seconds, but it’ll be tricky ‘cause he’s held in place by his shadows. He toys with Natsume’s shadows a bit, which really pisses Natsume off. Tsubasa even apologizes nervously, even though he’s the one in control. Or he is, until Natsume uses his alice again and gets rid of the shadows.
Natsume’s anger towards Tsubasa all stems from jealousy. It’s not just that Tsubasa was hugging and comforting Mikan, it’s that he can. Natsume needs to distance himself from Mikan in order to keep her safe, and he’s aware of that right from the start, but there’s more to it. He’s busy establishing himself as an enemy to Mikan, doing things to bother her to make her angry with him, but nobody rushes to their bully for comfort, and Natsume knows this. It’s not just that Tsubasa was hugging Mikan; it’s that he feels like he will never get the chance.
And so the next and final challenge is where he gets to be selfish.
Mikan is aggravated to see him, obviously not thrilled that he was able to make it in such a short time. Her task is that he has to get her off the carpet in thirty seconds. He can’t hurt her or force her off the carpet, and because of their alice training together, he can’t use his alice on her either. (They’d apparently practiced so much that she was able to sharpen her skills significantly. Before, her alice was a wildcard and she struggled with using it, but now she’s able to use it with relative ease. That’s a lot of training in a short time, and I’m sure Natsume wasn’t upset at all the time they had to spend together as a result.)
Natsume must feel relief regarding Mikan's nullification alice. She's nullified his alice in pretty big ways already, one time to save his life. The girl he's crushing on is capable of turning off the thing that decreases his lifespan. She really is a breath of fresh air, in more ways than one, and his appreciation for her alice, even if he doesn't voice it, will only grow. This is important, but I'll talk way more about this in the other POV.
He tries the cockroach, but she’s a country girl and unaffected.
Natsume is genuinely stumped by her challenge, admitting to himself that it’s a tough one. He then comes up with a risky idea, no doubt influenced by her rescue of him when they were kidnapped by Reo. He plays sick. This act only works if Mikan falls for it and is concerned enough to jump off the carpet, but he’s a good actor on account of all the sick experience he has and she does fall for it in no time. Her being concerned was a given.
She jumps off, meaning he’s won the game, but that’s not enough of a victory for him. He acts sick until she’s closer, so he can grab her and put his arm around her. Yes, he calls her an idiot, but this is the closest he can get to a hug… for now. It doesn’t matter that she’s annoyed and dismayed that he won. All he cares about is that he got to touch her.
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She jumped down. He won already, but it's not enough! (Also sorry about two pictures. If it ruins the format, oh well.)
Natsume was jealous that Tsubasa got to do something he thinks he'll never be able to, and so he got a taste of what he wanted some other, convoluted way. He gets angry that Tsubasa is so touchy, but that's only because he wishes he could be touchy too. Natsume will get bolder and bolder with his physical affection, because he will want more and more to show it. When he starts being honest about this affection, she will be more eager to return it.
Natsume is the first winner, and Tsubasa admits it was never expected for somebody to be able to pass all the challenges. Part of the appeal is that it’s an unbeatable game, but Natsume’s feelings of jealousy and spite were enough to get him over the finish line. Though perhaps knowing it's beatable but only one person could is also appealing. It's possible to pass, but very rare for somebody to be able to, so they can draw in crowds by capitalizing on kids who want to the next person to beat the game.
He gets to choose a lamp, but he has no idea which one is whose. He cheats by asking Koko to tell him which one is the right one, but he ends up picking Mikan’s, because Koko assumed that’s the one he wanted. After all--Natsume was thinking about her. Natsume is lucky that Mikan was too anguished at being a slave to care about Natsume thinking about her, but it’s interesting to know that even when he’s supposed to be angry at Tsubasa, he was only thinking of Mikan.
Chapter Twenty
This chapter’s premise is pretty simple and light: Natsume can’t think of any use for Mikan other than to follow him and Ruka around the festival and carry their stuff. They navigate the technical ability class area and even encounter Hotaru, though only for a short time because she’s quite busy.
Most importantly, their time in the technical area makes Mikan insecure. Everyone in the tech class seems to know what they want to do with their lives, with their alices being perfect for research or creation. I’ll go into more detail with this during Mikan’s essay, but it’s important to note that Mikan asks the people around her if they’re prepared for their future only to see that they all are. Hotaru, Sumire, and even Ruka all have dreams for the future, even if Ruka won’t share his. Natsume has decided to leave the conversation and we don’t hear what his dream is, which makes sense because he doesn’t have one. Natsume doesn’t think he’ll live long enough to graduate, so why even bother wasting his own time and getting his hopes up for something unattainable?
It’s then revealed that Ruka is also a triple, and Mikan can’t tell, but the mood has been soured for Ruka. His triple-star status is a touchy subject that he’s unhappy with. His star rank is representative of Natsume’s suffering and he doesn’t like talking about it. He only says that he didn’t mention it because he didn’t get it on his own talent or effort before Natsume forces Mikan to walk in another direction, claiming to be hungry.
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This is literally just a scan of the TokyoPop version, which is better than the other version I see floating around.
He can tell Ruka is uncomfortable and is ready to step in so that his friend can feel better.
As a result, they end up at the cafe where Anna is working (after all, Mikan has been perfecting her puppy-dog eyes routine and I think both Ruka and Natsume are affected, even if the latter would never admit it).
Natsume takes the first bite of Anna’s hell pie, just to see a rot demon (or whatever that thing is) taunt him about the trouble his stomach will be in soon. He really doesn’t have a choice but to throw the tea over the pie. Ruka is grateful, but Mikan is outraged at how rude Natsume is acting, and even angrier when Natsume explains that the pie was horrible. She demands he apologize but Natsume simply walks away, content to be the bad guy because he saved his friends from getting food poisoning while also sparing Anna’s feelings and reputation at her cafe.
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"Your stomach will writhe" is such a potent threat. I feel sick just looking at that demon/scoundrel/rot thing.
This scene has more substance than in the anime. In the episode, Natsume sees the rotten scoundrel (or WHATEVER IT IS) before he can take a bite. He tosses the tea for all their sakes and ultimately nobody is hurt. But here, in the manga, Natsume has already taken a bite. We see the missing part of the pie, the residue on the fork. Natsume is already screwed. He's going to have food poisoning from Anna's pie, and he still puts her feelings before his own. He'd rather say that the pie is terrible according to his own tastes than to let everyone around know that she made such a health-risking mistake. He drenches the pie so that Mikan and Ruka don't get food poisoning, even if it's too late for him. Natsume leaves, knowing he will look like an asshole, AND with stomach problems on top of that, but at least he's the only one who will be seriously hurt.
This is a pretty insignificant example of a trait that we have seen before with Natsume but haven't really fully explored. It's going to play a major role for the rest of the manga, because Natsume has something of a martyr complex, where he is quick to sacrifice himself because he sees little to no value in his own happiness. This is a small example, and I'm not saying it's not kind of him, but there are consequences with his line of thinking. He's fine with looking like an asshole to protect people, or giving up things he wants so someone else can have it, or blowing himself up so two girls can escape safely. Whenever there's a chance to sacrifice himself, Natsume will take it every single time.
This may seem noble or romantic or admirable but it's not healthy at all. The way he was raised (no shade to Papa Hyuuga and Kaoru but also.... tentatively side-eyeing them for putting so much responsibility on him) and the way he is now tortured by the school has put him in a position where his self esteem is horribly low. This complex of his results in suicidal tendencies, even after he falls in love with Mikan (and even exacerbated by that love). For Natsume, love is sacrifice. He simply cannot love without feeling like he has to give something up. Ideally, he would grow out of this and maybe start seriously choosing himself sometimes. It's not evil to want yourself to be happy and to choose your own well-being, even if it occasionally makes others sad or upset.
In the context of the actual story though, we have yet another glimpse of a complex that will cause a LOT of trouble down the road for Natsume and Mikan.
Conclusion
Natsume has new feelings for Mikan and is having trouble navigating them. They will cause even more trouble in the next essay. We also touched more on Natsume's self-sacrificing tendencies and how devastating they will turn out to be. These tendencies will be consistent and persistent throughout the manga in regards to NatsuMikan's relationship, and cause more problems. These problems will pop up a bit in the next part, so stay tuned!
Also, small note: I call him Ruka and not Luca because I got used to it after watching the anime and through scans and fanfics. I heard his name pronounced that way and at first thought it was a Japanese name so I simply copied the pronunciation. When I found out it was supposed to be Luca, I'd already been using Ruka for a while. I don't really want to switch to using Luca most of the time because I know people in real life named Luca/Luka and I talk enough about GA on the daily where it might feel strange to me. I use Luca sometimes when I'm talking to others who prefer it, but Ruka is what I'm used to. I hope this isn't frustrating, but understand that I pronounce Killua's name (from HxH) like "Ki-ru-a" as well and in my head "Gakuen Alice" is pronounced "Gakuen Arisu" because I pronounce things based on what I hear when watching the anime ;-; These are things I have no real desire to change because they sound right to me. I'm sorry. (Nobody has said anything or complained, and this is not a vague or anything like that! I just wanted to say that I know it's supposed to be Luca and it's not my intention to be disrespectful when I pronounce/spell it Ruka. I am fucking crazy, but I am free.)
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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 5 years ago
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Alright alright alright
You’ve all been asking for it, so here it is! 
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This will be (edit: HELLA) long and obviously spoiler-y, so everything is under a cut. 
Are you ready?
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Before we get to it, I want to mention that for the sake of keeping things organized, I will NOT be talking about my AU (@ask-whitepearl-and-steven​) in this post. I want to just analyze the show as a viewer and a fan first. I’ll make a seperate post for AU-thoughts a bit later.
Without further ado:
EP 1: LITTLE HOMESCHOOL
This is a great way to open up the episode and show the changes through the lens of someone who has been a bit out of it for a while (we are all Cherry Quartz, fresh from the hiatus, aren’t we?) but I’m sorry, this post still takes the cake:
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Okay, okay, back to the program.
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“That used to be a loaded question...“
Right off the bat, Steven is SO much more confident about saying that he’s... HIMSELF! What a good feeling. I’m very proud of our boy. 
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I love the name “Gemglyph” for the gem language! I’ll need to know who wrote these, though. And who the heck drew the diamonds? Hopefully it was BP. 
And I’m not the first one to point this out, but MORE ANIME REFERENCES!
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Which can be seen as either a reference to the Chill Low-Fi Hiphop Beats to Study To OR Whisper of the Heart. 
And absolutely no one cares but something that caught my eye is the fact that they have an EARTH FLAG at Little Homeschool! How cool is that!
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Earth 4ever!!! 
Off-note - I love how INVESTED they are in this conversation Pearl is having with Holo-Pearl.
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Peak entertainment. 
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I love Professor Amethyst and I love the random human who snuck in to apparently take lessons on Not Giving A Single Shit About Anything, Ever. 
And here we FINALLY are in the FUTURE
Where we FINALLY get Jasper as a functioning character
And 
She’s
SO DRAMATIC, I LOVE HER.
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This is literally SO funny like she... she was just... laying on top of her house... under a blanket..... FOr WHAT? To stand up dramatically and throw it off when Steven inevitably paid a visit? 
Is that just what she dOES? 
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“It’s FINE I don’t need any HELP, I’m FUNCTIONING, I’m just having a SELF CARE DAY OK”
Also I’m sorry but
Jasper: “It took forever to yank those puny green earthlings out of the ground.”
Steven: “You mean grass...?“
THIS. RIGHT HERE. is peak Jasper. 
It’s also curious how INVESTED Steven is in this:
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“I’m TRYING to give you [a purpose]!“
Why are you... trying to do that, though? Isn’t the whole idea for gems to surpass their ‘purpose’ and just kinda... do whatever? Isn’t Jasper just kinda... doing whatever? 
I mean, sure, it’s not useful to anyone, but she seems relatively happy. Aside from. You know. The whole laying on rocks under blankets until she’s disturbed thing and-- okay, you’re right, maybe an intervention would be healthy. 
I’m not gonna talk at length about the rest of the episode - although I think it’s really good, I don’t know what I can say about it that hasn’t already been said. Jasper is definitely poking Steven’s buttons and rephrasing a LOT of what WHITE has said to Pink: “You surround yourself with inferior gems because it makes you feel better.”
And Steven REACTS to this. The taunt WORKS.
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And yes, he gains some extra powers for it, but something tells me this AIN’T the only thing he will get. It feels like a two-edged sword. Like it’ll be his own downfall somehow....... maybe at the end of the series. 
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Ashes to ashes.... hole to hole.
And oh wow I thought they were gonna bond but LMAO
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“Consider your fight back there your first and ONLY lesson.“
Basically:
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I love you Jasper.
EP 2: GUIDANCE
I LOVE YOU AMETHYST.
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sHE’S doing SO much and she’s SO good at it!! Look at her!! Organizing stuff!!!! 
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RUBIES IN SUNGLASSES. IN SQUARE SUNGLASSES. 
I need 20. 
And I also need 20 of Larimar because holy shit that’s hilarious. 
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Larimar: “I want to hear the human screams forever.”
Steven: “Okay that’s kinda troubling.”
I love the reference to Monsters Inc here and I love the callback at the end of the episode when Larimar switches to Human Laughter to get her fill of that particular erm... need. 
And honestly the ensuing chaos is equally predictable and entertaining. 
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I’m SO glad to know that Rubies are just... Like That and that actually Navy is not a deviation from the norm but rather a different flavor of the chaotic energy all Rubies naturally seem to possess. 
Amethyst is also super relatable:
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“Ah yes, the fool comes crawling back. Come to beg for forgiveness, have you?”
In fact, the episode’s WHOLe HUMOUR is just very much My Brand
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“Sometimes you save all the people but the rollercoaster still crashes into the ocean...... and that’s okay.”
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Including the Running Gag that is Onion. Who... does not appear to have aged. At all. And that’s okay.
EP 3: ROSE BUDS
Okay where do I even begin with this one. Um.
I have to openly admit that I spent the majority of this episode wheezing with laughter. Let’s start with the Zoomans:
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Who are CLEARLY STILL SUPER SALTY AT GREG ABOUT REJECTING THEM??? Which is hilarious. 
And also this paradise is fascinating in and of itself. 
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But the next scene is basically where I started losing my shit.
Okay, okay, alright so. Uh. I have... a few questions.
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Like Why. WHY. Does she look. SO MUCH like Rose? 
Clearly Rose Quartz differ in coloring and etc. But She literally looks. Like THE Rose. VERY explicitly. 
So here’s several options here:
1) Pink made Rose Quartz way before any of the Rebellion happened and Pearl just basically pigeonholed her into THIS specific Rose Quartz appearance because she (???) had a crush? Or somehow saw this specific Rose, thought ‘hot, i can make my sympathetic Diamond wear this exact costume and that would be EXCELLENT fanservice for ME’
2) Pink didn’t have any Rose Quartz until the Rebellion, and thereafter quickly decided ‘I need these gems as an alibi, so we’re just gonna make them” and she and Pearl basically inclubated Rose Quartz like a pokemon trainer hatching for a Shiny until they got one that looked Exactly Like That. 
3) There was no Thinking involved because this is Pink we’re talking about, and it was all just a huge coincidence for the sake of this Very Hilariously Uncomfortable Episode. 
While we ruminate on that, let’s look at some Relatable Reactions.
And here we have the holy trinity of “I have just seen the clone of my deceased parent/parental figure/lover.”
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Featuring: Bonus ‘I’m Almost Over It’ Pearl
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Also, I need y’all to make this into a meme:
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For example:
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Anyway, alright, alright. 
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That relatable feel when your (hot) dead lesbian lover’s clone asks you if you’re okay after another one of the (less hot?) clones offers you a whole ass stick of butter to eat. 
And then you and your friends all hide in the bathroom to talk about your feelings:
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Okay, the rest of the episode gives me FEELINGS and I love how hard Steven is trying, so I’ll just close it off with:
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I LOVE THEM. Unironically, they are EVERYTHING I had hoped Rose Quartz would be. They’re SO MUCH like Rose herself - did she model her personality after them? Or are they just like her because she WAS like that, and they’re made from her essence? WHO KNOWS?! They’re adorable!
And the conflict between them and Steven is honestly so gooD! I don’t know if it’s completely relatable but I’m glad they ended up talking it out.
I wonder if we’ll ever see Her again... you know who I’m talkin’ about. 
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Her....
I’m madly in love with Rose, ok, I don’t need a callout post. Just leave me be.
EP 4:  VOLLEYBALL
Alright, alright, alright.
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OKAy,.... It’s fine. It’s FINE. I’m fINE. 
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Confirmed: 8000 years. That’s. UH. A LOT? That puts our timelines quite a ways back. We kind of estimated as much, but still, it’s so jarring to think about. And PP is VERY casual about it. 
She’s also VERY casual about the injury.
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“This is all Pink Diamond!”
It doesn’t seem like it bothers her to talk about it at all. She’s not even trying to keep it a secret. So I’m almost wondering - was there a connection to her being taken by White and the injury at all or not? 
She came to Steven to get healed - she clearly wants it gone. At the time she was injured, did Pink not even attempt to heal the injury? 
Follow up question: If she DID care, why didn’t she try to heal it?
Follow up to the follow up: Was it because she didn’t know she could? Or did she simply not have the time to (White removed her before she could)? 
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When Steven goes pink, she gasps - but makes no further comment. It’s presumably because she’s seen this happen before. She doesn’t try to move away, weirdly enough - she asks him if everything is alright. Perhaps the context is too different for it to be triggering for her. Perhaps there’s more layers to it? HMMM. 
What follows is, perhaps, the SALTIEST we’ve seen Pearl since Greg rolled around.
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“Did you come to compete?”
This is doubly curious to me because Crewniverse has previously explicitly stated that Pearl was NOT in love with Pink Diamond. She was in love with Rose. So if this is true, why would Pearl care about her place as Pink’s Pearl? She is supposed to be past all that, isn’t she? 
And yet as time goes on, the salinity grows exponentially. Alright, you two, I know you’re Pearls but tone it down with the sass. 
(Also, I’m sorry but I will NEVER call her Volleyball. That’s all. Bye.)
Also it’s worth noting that... PP is clearly VERY much in love with Pink.
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This is, perhaps, where the lack of a grudge plays into it. She’s completely enamoured.
Moreover, she’s VERY casual about how she talks here. This isn’t exactly how one talks of their Diamond. This is how people talk about their romantic partners. She calls Pink silly, calls her ‘funny’. That’s not exactly a term of respect - it’s way more intimate than that. 
Also, did anyone else notice how, although CG Pearl’s gem is usually shaded in teal, it’s in Pink in this episode? VEEEERY subtle, Crew.
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Also, we can’t quite see Pink Pearl’s expression fully here because her working eye isn’t visible, which makes it hard to get a read on things like
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“I’m older than you.“ Is she just saying it casually? Or is she fully aware that she’s poking fun at CG Pearl? 
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HI SHELL. ISN’T IT FUNNY HOW YOUR VOICE AND YOUR NAME ARE A SUBTLE NOD TO PORTAL, WHICH IS FORESHADOWING HOW BADLY THIS IS GONNA END. 
Meanwhile, Pearl continues to be in character.
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“No need to be overly... attached.”
And this has nothing to do with anything but
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she cute
Aaaand now it’s creepy again.
The rest of this is super important so let’s get to it:
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“Oh, no. Pink did this.”
“What did you say?”
“It’s a funny story, really. Once, Pink got tired of asking Yellow and Blue for her own colony, so she went straight to White. Of course, White told her she wasn’t fit to run one... and well! That set her off.”
“Set her off? What are you talking about?”
“You remember how she was! With her destructive powers, throwing tantrums left and right! She had a scream that could crack the walls. She didn’t mean to hurt me! (giggle) I just happened to be standing too close to her that time and--”
And then Steven interrupts. 
We get more CG Pearl arguing for how wrong this image of Pink is to her. What CG Pearl knew was a totally different (or, well, same, but VERY changed) Pink. 
But what we have to prove our point is Steven himself. He rolls into the EXACT same state as Pink presumably did - and begins to over-use his powers. 
(This isn’t the first time we have seen him use this attack.)
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The reactions from the Pearls are telling - this is clearly not Pink Pearl’s first rodeo with this type of Mood. 
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And it’s important to note that Steven clearly didn’t direct any attack AT them. He simply yelled - and the whole dang place literally started to crack. There’s weight to the argument that possibly, Pink really DIDN’T mean to hurt her Pearl - that she was just collateral damage. 
Which doesn’t make it any better, obviously. Even if Pink had no direct intention of hurting her Pearl (and there are theories that Pink purposefully hit or threw Pink Pearl or somehow physically acted directly to damage her, which I was skeptical of) the result of it is still the same.
If you raise your voice and yell, even if you’re just yelling because YOU are hurt/have feelings, you might still hurt the people around you. If you throw a tantrum, even if your direct goal was just to let off some steam without aiming to harm anyone, whoever gets in your way is still the victim. 
And this is all very much On Brand for Pink’s timeline as we know it. We already knew this about her - we KNEW she tended to throw tantrums (like in the flashback on Jungle Moon) and that she was childish. The fact that she accidentally hurt her Pearl in the process because she had no self-control at that period in her life comes as no surprise. 
(Although it’s important to mention that perhaps hurting her own Pearl WAS the breaking point during which she finally realized how her emotional outbursts could have negative consequences on those around her.)
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And this is a very beautiful message - even if Pink Pearl still doesn’t want to blame Pink for what was done to her (”But... she didn’t mean to!”) Pearl brings the point of it back around to her (”But you were still hurt!”) The point isn’t the person who did the hurting - the focus is on the victim and how they were affected. 
And the rest, I daresay, is history. 
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I like the fact that they managed to still bring it back around to the main message: 
It isn’t about just “Pink was bad”. It’s about how she did bad things. And there were multiple sides to her - multiple stages. And the Pearls who knew her knew different sides of her - the side that didn’t know how to be a good person, who was selfish and childish and unrestrained... and  the side that was, arguable, too restrained. Who hated her own past, her own character and her own mistakes so much that she would rather bury them and keep secrets from everyone. 
And neither of those things were good, and neither were healthy, but they are a GREAT contrast to a GREAT character arc that is, arguably, still being unearthed. And we have so much more context for it all now. 
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I, for one, can’t wait to see and discover more of Pink through Pink Pearl - no matter how ugly that side of her might be. I think it gives great perspective to her later growth. 
And if you ship the Pearls.. .well, I get why. 
Personally I’m not interested in it that way. Call me unromantic - I don’t think their relationship NEEDS to be shippy in order to be satisfyingly deep. I love the idea of them having a deep bond over this - a shared past, a shared experience, and gaining confidence through one another. 
Cheers and thanks for listening!
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obxcunt · 4 years ago
Text
Love bites || (4)
pairing: jj maybank x reader [eventually] || rafe cameron x reader [currently]
warnings: cursing, typos.
summary: it was supposed to be a good summer for you, the last one in the obx before going to college, the last one with your friends and family. Unfortunately, a sudden and mysterious death is about to completely change your life, pushing you directly into a brand new world and into a very sexy vampire’s arms.
A/N: thank you so much guys, comments, likes, notes and dms means so much to me i’m glad you are enjoying my story! Love you all.
part three || masterlist || part five
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“I can't see you right now, Rafe.” You said, holding the phone. “I— I need to help my mom with something at home.” You lied, glancing at the blond vampire next to you.
“Are you okay?” Rafe asked, concerned by how distant you've been recently. “Is it because of me? Shit, Y/N. I’m sorry if my—”
“Relax, it has nothing to do with you, Rafe.” You cut off, closing your eyes as you sat down on the ground with your guest, head falling back in a sigh. “It's just— It's just complicated for me to be around anyone right now. I need to be alone, but i’ll text you tomorrow, alright?”
He sighed. “Okay, i’ll see you later.”
You both hang up at the same time, guilt still occupying your mind as you threw the phone away. You looked at the horizon, the view from your backyard always calming you down when you need it. The last time you were there: Rafe and you were sharing your first kiss after a party: the heated memory making you smirk. But today you were sitting next to a vampire, discovering a brand new world.
“I don't like lying to people, especially my friends.” You said, breaking the silence, the nature’s noises accompanying your words. “They're also in danger—”
“Trust me, they know way more than you think.” JJ said, looking at the grass, his black-painted fingers wandering through it.
You ignored his sentence, too busy looking at him, examining his normal appearance: tanned skin, muscles, bright blue eyes, nothing seemed different. You weren't expecting vampires to look this good.
“What happened to you?” He briefly glanced at you. “You look so—” You paused shrugging your shoulders. “Human.”
He chuckled. “Remember my birthday party at John B’s, last year?” You hummed, he had invited you for some reason, but you couldn’t make it. “When everyone left, i decided to go home. I don’t know why, but i really wanted to see my dad on my eighteenth birthday.” He paused, a sad smile appearing on his face. “He was really high and drunk, we fought about it.” Your lips parted, guessing his next words. “My dad beat me to death.”
“JJ...” Your voice cracked, tears emerging once again. You couldn’t believe it. Everyone knew his father’s reputation and bad habits, but this was something else. “I— I don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry, you deserved so much better.” The blond boy looked at you, giving you a tiny smile. He wanted to wipe away the sad expression you were wearing. “But, how did you—”
“It happened outside, he left my body there.” He said, sniffing and looking at the rings on his fingers, nervously playing with them. “Marcus found me, he smelled my blood from miles away.” He smirked. “He felt extremely sorry as soon as he saw me, he knew my father and quickly understood. He thought i deserved a second chance. So, he saved me.”
“Who’s Marcus?” You asked. “Wait, are you talking about the old drug dealer?” JJ nodded. “He’s a vampire?” You raised your brows. “Wow... I always thought he was strange.”
“Yeah...” JJ continued. “He turned me, right in time.” Your eyes widened, imagining the scene. “It wasn’t easy, especially the first week. Marcus teached me how to survive, to control myself and everything i needed to know.”
“But...” He looked back at you, smirking at your confused face: you looked adorable. It was both surprising and comforting how easy you were to talk to. You were surprised too, feeling strangely good and safe with him. “What about, Luke? He killed himself, right?” You asked, remembering the event from last year. “Was it because of— Or did you?”
“I didn’t kill him.” He cut off, you nodded a bit reassured. “He killed himself a few hours after killing me. He really left the house, drove to Barry’s and shot himself. The cops didn’t even question it, since he had a poor reputation. They looked for me, obviously. I wasn’t in a good shape, dealing with the whole turning thing. Marcus lied to them, by saying that i was sick and they believed it. I think they just wanted to close the case. I’ve been living at John B’s since then.”
“Right.” You nodded, chin resting on your knees as you held your legs against your chest, trying to memorize everything. “Your friends know about you, don’t they?” He laughed. “Of course they do.” You added, feeling stupid for asking. “And, wasn’t it a bit awkward at first?”
“The hardest part was definitely accepting my death and what happened to me. I disappeared for a few days, ignored their calls and texts before telling them everything. I had to learn how to behave in public first, which wasn’t easy for me. I’m still struggling sometimes.” He explained, sighing. “But, since Kiara is a witch—” You chuckled at the irony, you ignored so much things. “They took it pretty well. Pope asked a lot of questions though, he was a bit nervous around me but mostly intrigued.”
You smirked. “I do have many questions as well!” You said with excitement, sitting down properly. “Like, why aren’t you burning right now?” He chuckled, enjoying your reaction to his condition. “We’ve been outside for hours. Also, how do you feed? Do you have powers?”
He sighed, smiling. “Okay, let’s start with this.” He pointed at the ring on his finger. “See this one? Well, Kie made it for me. It protects me from the sun.” You nodded, looking at it attentively. “I don’t feed on humans, but on animals and sometimes we steal blood-bags from the nearest hospital.” He looked at your neck, licking his lips just to tease you. “But, you look delicious.” You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Let me guess, type O?” He teased again, laughing as you smacked his arm. “My favorite...”
“Fuck off, JJ.” He laughed.
“And, we are not in Twilight. I’m far from Edward Cullen, even though we both share the same strength and speed.” You looked at the intriguing boy. “I won’t read your mind. Unfortunately, it’s not on the list.” You smirked, narrowing your eyes at him. “That’s too bad, i’m sure your thoughts are very interesting.”
“What about—” You sighed. “The other one, the vampire who killed my friend.” JJ hummed. “Do you know him?”
“No, that's the problem.” He replied. “And it seems like he's not alone. We think they are from another state, just passing by.” You looked around the garden, wondering if they were around here. “Don't worry, they won't bother anyone during the day. They're not coming out, which means they probably don't know any witches. They're either old school vampires or newborns, who don't care about consequences. They took so much risk by killing Kelce.”
“The police department knows about it, right? They know it's not an animal.” JJ nodded, chuckling. “I knew something was wrong the other day.”
“Vampires used to be a massive problem around here, in the past.” He explained. “That's when the slayers came around and eradicated them. It's a family thing, only touching the sons.” You frowned, rethinking about your conversation with Ward. “We were safe for a while. We are a small group, not messing around and respecting the rules. But, Kelce’s death changed the game.”
“They called the slayers back and now, they're all looking for vampires to kill.” He nodded. “That's not good…”
“Yeah…” He laughed. “Especially since you're dating one of them.” You frowned, jaw dropping. “Ward Cameron comes from one of the most famous families of slayers of all time. Which means that his wonderful son is going to join them anytime soon.”
“Holy shit.” You said, laughing nervously and running a hand through your hair. “The other day, while we were throwing a party for Kelce at their place, i heard a weird conversation he was having on the phone with someone. He was saying a lot of things, but nothing really made sense to me, until now. He seemed really nervous.” JJ wasn't surprised. “Peterkin was also there, she was supposed to meet him.”
“They're obviously preparing something.”
“I’m not dating him, JJ.” You added, annoyed by his comment. “I don't know why you keep—” He chuckled, interrupting you.
“Alright, Y/N.” He said. “You might not be dating him, officially. However, you were still having sex with him that night.” He smirked at the sight of your heated cheeks. “I saw it, while searching for the other vampire. Unfortunately, it was already too late for Kelce. I still managed to save you though when you walked back to the—”
“Wait!” You snapped. “It was you, behind me?”
“Technically, we were both behind you. He was looking at you and clearly enjoying your fear, he wanted to mess with your head. I chased him away while you were calling 911. He wanted to kill you too.” You remained silent, in shock. “I saved your pretty ass two times already, Y/N.” He joked, the hidden compliment making you blush once again.
“So, you can’t read minds?” You asked, wanting to switch subjects. “Or see the future? I thought vampires had more powers.” JJ smiled, standing up and offering you a hand. “What are you doing?” You asked, accepting it and standing up in front of the blond boy.
“I can't read minds or see the future, but—” You looked at him in the eyes and pouted, his heart melting at the sight. “I can do some other things though...” You raised a brow, curious.
In one second: the blond boy disappeared. You turned around, searching for him everywhere. “JJ?” He screamed your name and you looked up, noticing him sitting down on the roof with a playful smirk on his face. “How did you—” He moved again, making you laugh.
You tried to turn around, feeling his presence behind you. “Don't move.” He murmured close to your ear, both hands resting on your hips. “We can sense your blood from miles away.” He murmured, caressing your forearm: making you shiver against his body. “We can also hear your heartbeat from miles away.” His hand slowly moved up to your shoulder. “Even your moans…” He smirked against your ear: a silent moan escaping your lips.
“Stop it!” You whined, turning around to face him and smack his chest while he laughed at you. “Idiot.” He stopped, calming down. “I’m sorry, for calling you crazy earlier.”
He scoffed. “You’re adorable, but you don’t need to apologize. It was a normal reaction.” You nodded, smirking. “Anyway.” He continued. “I need your help. I'm pretty sure Ward is preparing something.” You crossed your arms. “I need to get access to his office, where he’s hiding shit.”
You frowned. “Wait, what?” You both started walking back to the front porch. “But, you're a vampire, you're way more discreet than me.”
“Probably, it seems like you have clumsy tendencies.” You stopped walking, rolling your eyes. “But it's impossible for me to get access to his office, since i'm not allowed to enter their mansion.”
“What do you mean?” You asked, following him. “Are they putting way too much Holy Water on the door handles or something?”
He laughed, gently pushing you. “That's very funny.” You smiled, taking the few stairs leaning to the porch before sitting down on the bench. “Vampires can't enter houses without getting invited in first.”
“Oh.” You said. “What about Sarah Cameron? Aren't you guys friends? And i’m pretty sure you came to a party at their house last year.”
“Kiara doesn’t want her girlfriend to be involved in this for now. And, this was before my death. I don’t think Ward Cameron the slayer wants me on his property anymore.” He said, sitting down next to you. “But, since you’re close to Rafe—”
“Shut up...” You whined, rubbing your face, your reaction making him laugh. “Wait, is this why you don’t want me to invite you inside my house? So, you can’t get any access?” He nodded, looking at his black combat boots. “Why not? I don’t understand.”
“It’s for your own safety.” You sighed. “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s not in my intentions but—” He paused, clearing his throat. “Anyway, Ward and Rafe can’t know about this, obviously.”
“I won’t say anything to anyone.” You promised. “But i don’t think Rafe knows about any of this, JJ.” You said, trying to rassure him. “Don’t worry.”
“Not yet.” He sighed. “Ward is gonna have to inform him, at some point. Rafe won’t become an actual slayer until he kills a vampire by himself, that’s a part of their ritual.” He explained, visibly worried. “I don’t want my new family and friends to die. We— We need to take care of those vampires before anyone else dies.”
Shit, you thought. You didn’t want to lie to anyone, especially your family and friends but you had to. You also didn’t want to use Rafe but you couldn’t help feeling bad for JJ, who didn’t deserved to suffer either. He already went through enough shit.
JJ didn’t want to force you, he wouldn’t. But there was something about you, something telling him that he could trust you. You both remained silent for a moment, until you had made up your mind.
“Okay, fine.” You said, making him look back at you with a smirk. “I’ll help you, if you promise to not hurt anyone, especially Rafe.” He opened his mouth, ready to object. “He’s still innocent, we might not need to fight. We could do this before he turns into a slayer, okay? He’s still my friend and—”
“Okay, we won’t do anything to your boyfriend.” He cut off, the nickname making you growl. “Unless he starts attacking us first.”
“Don’t call him my boyfriend, or you’ll have to find someone else.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “Alright, what do you need, JJ?” He smirked, knowing you were both about to jump in a risky and exciting adventure together.
A/N: If you guys have any questions regarding the fic, feel free to ask me, requests are open!
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tag-list: @prejudic3-deactivated20201112 @starkeyrafe @thestorysofargone @ifilwtmfc @callmeimpetuous @katiaw2 @your-local-candle-addict @iccyyyybitch @agirlwholovescoffee @hvrcruxes
[tumblr won’t let me tag some people, comment if you wanna be add]
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allthingsfern · 4 years ago
Text
More info about my reason for choosing my Sony a7r3
So, @mirzans​, replied to my “From my own experience switching from Nikon DSLR to Sony mirrorless,“ asking about why I did not choose a Nikon Z camera, which is a great question and something I should have explained/added to my post: context. It is important to know when I bought my a7r3 and what my choices were.
Here goes.
I bought my Sony a7r3 back in December of 2017, on the 26th, to be exact. Sony, at the time, was the mirrorless full frame leader and neither Nikon nor Canon had yet released their equivalent mirrorless cameras. After much research, I wound up deciding between the D850 or a7r3. BTW, there were a couple of Fujis I liked, but none was full frame; yes I strongly considered the Fujifilm GFX 50S, which was almost twice as much as the D850 and the a7r3 but had 50 mp (the D850: 45.7mp; a7r3: 42.4). However, from my research, it was rated as a good camera, but more for a studio setting, and did not autofocus as highly rated as either of my 2 final choices, plus the a7r3 was celebrated for its uniquely accurate, for that time, eye recognition focus. So, when I walked into Mike’s Camera, I knew it was either the D850 or the a7r3. Let me add that in 2017, Sony was making big (mostly) positive news with its a7r3. The previous 2 a7r models were promising, but had issues like overheating and horrendous battery life, but the a7r3 had improved on those issues and was then highly recommended. At about the same time that year, Nikon’s D850 was being celebrated as a great improvement of the already superb D800.
A little background about my camera ownership history may be useful here, too, so all y’all understand why I was looking at Nikon and Fuji, and not Canon or any other brand, well, except Sony.
In 2012, I bought my D50 used form a friend. It was already 5 years old at the time. I owned 2 SLRs before that, in the mid 70s and early 90s. Both were cheap, no-name cameras and my photography sucked shit through a brick, but not because of my cameras. I just never bothered to really learn photography, thinking it was just a matter of liking the way something looked and then taking a picture of it.
Oy vey.
However, I owned my baby, my D50, for 4 years. Then I bought a new Nikon D3500 w/ a used 24-200mm lens (sorry, I cannot recall which one, but it was highly recommended by Ken Rockwell and was a great lens)  a lower end starter Nikon DSLR and a used Fuji X100s. I absolutely loved both cameras. Since I figured that I was going to be trading up to a more complex model and I would, in effect, have to learn a new camera system, I knew I wanted to stick with Nikon and Fuji. And yes, Canon and other makes are good to great as well, but I figured I would stick with what I knew.
Except for the Sony. But really, since I needed to learn a new system, I figured I would go to the camera store and give them a feel, then make up my mind.
Now, to a certain degree, the D850 was slightly ahead because earlier in 2017 I got to use a D800 for a photo shoot for work. It was set up for me (the studio was ready for me, all I had to do was point and shoot; it was a special project that I got permission to do the photography for and, sadly, the portraits never were used) and let me tell you, as soon as I grabbed that D800, the ergonomics, the familiar feel, were perfect. That was one sexy camera, at least to me. Still is.
However, when i walked into Mike’s and held the even heftier d850, it also felt good, familiar, but as soon as I held the a7r3, even before I raised it to my face and looked through the viewfinder, I knew it was the one for me. It felt right and was lighter, and with the advanced eye focus, my decision was made immediately. And as I mentioned in my previous post, my camera guy soon realized I knew the specs and was looking at the 2 best choices for me, so he just left me alone and only was there to provide support, if I requested any.
Now, I believe that things are meant to happen, that time and Life give us signs that we are going in the right direction. And when I bought that first a7r3, I wanted the recently released 24-105mm f/4 G Sony lens. If I recall, it had just started shipping in late November, early December, so it was hard to get. And Mike’s had just one, that was pre-ordered, but the person who ordered it did not pick it up, and since it was sitting in the store (and not paid for) for about 2 weeks and was hard to get, my camera guy decided to sell it to me.
Talk about meant to be.
And yes, for any of you who know me who are reading this, I did get all teary eyed and freaked out a bit. I was able to drop so much money on camera equipment because a friend had recently died and left me enough money to pay off half my student loans, my almost $40K in credit card debt, and buy the cameras. (I did not mention I have 2 a7r3 bodies and a lens for each one: the 24-105mm f/4 and the Zeiss 55mm f1.8 made for Sony.) To me, the whole changing lenses thing is crazy making and as a professional photographer friend of mine said (my coworker who was the staff photographer and was always willing to talk about camera gear and was very supportive), I should have a zoom and a prime, and since I could afford the 2 bodies, I should just fucking get them. No regrets.
And to add to the “meant to be” coincidences of that day I bought my first a7r3 and the 24-105mm, while I was paying for the camera and my camera guy was explaining several perks and deals and things Mike’s Camera offered, he mentioned that there was a Sony mirrorless workshop, given by a Sony expert, coming up on January 19, 2018 at the store. That was when I knew my camera purchase was the right thing to do, since that was the anniversary of my friend’s death and I already planned to visit their grave site that day, but the workshop was at night and I could do both.
And fuck, yes, again I got all teary eyed there at the counter of Mike’s Camera.
Finally, you know that friend of mine who was the staff photographer at work, the one who was so supportive and helpful? And, BTW, who actually has a degree in photography? Well, after about a year of my buying my a7r3, I showed him some photos I took handheld at 1/30 sec in very low light w/ high ISO. He was so impressed with the quality of the images, that he ordered an a7r3 and a couple lenses for work. I think he got the 24-70mm GM and the 70-200mm GM, both f/2.8 and both with stabilization, and either the 85mm or 135mm GM. He wound up using the a7r3 for events and outdoor shoots and kept the D800 for studio portraits. That D800 is such a cool camera. But then again, I have another friend who owns a Canon 5D (also a pro photographer) and it is awesome, too.
Anyway, sorry I shared so much, @mirzans. Guess you can tell I just love this shit.
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