#which sucks extra bc last year she was there for me when literally none of my long time friends were | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinnaminsvga · 5 years

Text

fox rain | three

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. namjoon) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: none unless you count overly graphic descriptions of how stupid namjoon is (oh and like... ant gambling rings??) → words: 15.7K → a/n: this is late by a month and my whole life is a joke. i hope this makes you laugh bc i made namjoon extra dumb for y’all (for no extra charge. suck it, chipotle.) also: check bio for other chapter links for now!

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“This can’t be my fucking life. Can it?” you say to your own reflection, curtains of despair dripping from every inch of your visage. Your reflection stares back, the same dead eyes twitching imperceptibly from the lack of caffeine in your system. At this point, you wouldn’t be sane enough to be surprised if your parallel self would reply, perhaps with some scathing remark about how you were slowly losing your grip on your life. Not that it would be unwarranted, anyway.

After Hoseok’s explosion the other day, your weekend doesn’t exactly feel as exciting as it usually is. Of course, your mood is still a vast improvement from last week when you were out of commission for most it after your mental breakdown. Although, it doesn’t erase the fact that you’re still knee deep in shit and that you have no idea how you’re going to face Hoseok and Jimin the following Monday.

Damn. You could really use some coffee.

The day seems to be in much better spirits than you, and it would be a waste not to let the universe’s good mood try to make you feel better as well. There is a coffee shop just a block away, and maybe you could take a walk in the sunshine afterwards to help relax the dread consistently knocking at the back of your mind. It’s a little bit optimistic, but it’ll have to do.

Shrugging on a thin cardigan over some other semi-decent clothes, you step out of your stuffy apartment with a spring in your step. You didn’t bother with any of your usual morning ritual, seeing as how you don’t plan on meeting with anyone you know from university anyway. So what if your landlady Mrs. Park sees the bird’s nest on top of your head? Who is she going to tell? Her gang of old auntie friends all hate you already for wearing a “TRANS RIGHTS” shirt in front of them, so it’s not like you’re vying for their acceptance.

Other than your less than friendly neighborhood aunties, there are better old people to hang around anyway. Nearby the coffee shop, there is a senior home where you used to volunteer during your spare time until your other commitments forced you to give up your spot to some other benevolent soul. Since you have been meaning to visit the grandmas and grandpas there when you got some free time, you suppose it would be nice to talk to kind ol’ Ms. Kim today and listen to her recount her many youthful adventures (which is, more often than not, a euphemism for her various sexcapades in the 70s.)

The senior home is closer to your home than the coffee shop, so you choose to stop and gaze at the plain-looking white building with its neatly trimmed bushes and white picket fence. It looks out of place in the neighborhood, with its very suburban and Americana design, but you know it is only because the owner of the establishment had gotten her inspiration from Forrest Gump. She has a crush on young Tom Hanks, and you honestly can’t blame her for it; that man… he is a Man, with a capital M.

You’re in the middle of debating whether you should buy your coffee first before visiting the seniors when you hear a distant shout coming from within the house. Alarmed, you take a step back, almost falling on your ass and onto the sidewalk. You pause, tilting your head to try and peak over the fence and through the large windows that showed the reception area within. You recognize Hana, the receptionist, sitting by her desk in her usual green scrubs, her head bowed over a book as if the sound had not fazed her in the slightest.

“Am I crazy? Am I starting to hear things?” You wonder aloud, still staring at the innocent-looking home. Has the universe had enough with your lacklustre existence that it has caused you to hear nonsense? Is this only the beginning of your slow descent into madness?

You don’t have to fret over your sanity for too long because moments later, the shout repeats itself. Like the previous one, this one sounds just as pained and anguished, though you aren’t sure if it was a male or female who had screamed. For all you knew, the person might have either stubbed their toe or gotten a knife stabbed through their chest; it’s not like you spend time distinguishing the subtle nuances of tormented screams. However, you are more certain now that it had come from within the home, even though Hana has yet to react to the chilling noise. She flips to the next page, tired eyes squinting at the small text.

You are stuck at an impasse: do you go inside the home despite the possible danger of entering a secret cannabilist society of which your acquaintance has been initiated to, or do you turn around and go home where it is 100% more likely for you to survive the next 24 hours?

The choice becomes apparent to you, however, when a tall, lanky boy bursts out of one of the doors behind the receptionist, with his arms piled to the ceiling with dinner plates on the cusp of making their way to the floor. Even through the window and behind a fence, you can tell that he is in dire need of help, which Hana does not seem likely to extend. The mess of legs makes a beautiful display of himself, his lower limbs flapping about aimlessly as his body contorts to try and keep himself and the plates balanced.

Finally, after what feels like hours of torture watching the poor volunteer make a fool of himself, he manages to steady himself, his legs crossed together like he’s trying to hold in his piss. Carefully, he squats down, placing the plates on the floor in front of the receptionist desk. For a moment, you feel as though you should be applauding, for whatever reason.

Now without dishes obscuring his face, you can make out the identity of the flailing giraffe man. He turns, fingers combing through his distinctly colored hair––

Oh god. It’s him. You gotta get out of there, fast, before he recognizes you. Maybe if you run quickly enough, then maybe he won’t notice you when he looks out the window around.

“Ha,” the universe laughs, clapping their asscheeks to the rhythm of Ludacris’ Move Bitch Get Out Da Way™️ with a smirk. “Cute of you to think your life isn’t basically a 20-year long trainwreck in motion.”

Inevitably he turns around, his eyes immediately locking on your face despite being half-concealed by the fence. He looks confused for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish until he lights up, recognition flooding his features. Even though you cannot hear him clearly, you just know that he said something stupid, judging by the way Hana has finally looked up from her book to stare at him weirdly.

Please don’t come out and greet me. Please just let me wave at you awkwardly and for you to stay where you are. Please don’t go out and talk to me––

Your prayers go unanswered once more as he sidesteps the wall of plates, his hip just barely grazing it and almost causing it to tumble down. The pile sways precariously from left to right, miraculously staying put as he rushes out to greet you. You can only imagine the mess he’d have to clean up if it did, shards of cheap porcelain left behind in his awkward, fumbling wake.

Luckily (or unluckily for you), he makes it out of the senior home in one piece. He crosses the short path to the fence in two inhumanly long strides, slamming the fence door open with a wide swing. It smacks loudly against the railing, the hinges making a pained groan as it looks to be at the inch of its life––literally. You vaguely remember replacing the screws on it just before you left over six months ago… Surely you hadn’t done such a shoddy job? Although, you know that simply can’t be true. After all, you’re dealing with none other than destruction incarnate himself, Kim––

“Y/N!” Namjoon greets happily, his dimples deeper than you remember. You swallow heavily, trying your best not to sweat under his overly enthusiastic gaze. God, you should’ve gone straight to the coffee shop when you had the chance.

Nothing like facing disaster head-on, as they say. “Hey,” you reply half-heartedly, though the walking inflatable tube man doesn’t seem to mind your lacklustre mood. He grasps your hands for a shake, swinging your entire body up and down with the care of a man who does not know his own strength. You, his unfortunate victim, are left to suffer through his artery-bursting grip.

“Oh god, you have no idea how glad I am to see you! Not that I’m not normally happy to see you at university, but––” He speaks so quickly that it’s hard to keep track of the specific contents of his sentences, so you can only hope that your unenthused nods will be enough to placate the bumbling buffoon. You resign yourself to a fate similar to the bobbleheads on the dashboards of those white suburban soccer moms.

“Wait, hold on.” What on earth..? You are full on gaping at the piece of work on top of his head, not even pretending to be polite as you try to process what is in front of you. “What the hell happened to your hair?”

You know from old Facebook photos that Namjoon has natural black locks, though you can’t say that his wacky hairstyles were also inborn. Ever since you have known him, he has always dyed his hair a sandy brown color, complimenting his tan skin. Now, however…

“You mean the weird blue streaks?” Namjoon says, rubbing a few strands thoughtfully. His hair is a walking disaster, and this is coming from someone who has seen what Kim Seokjin has done to his clients. (There’s a reason his Yelp reviews are terrible… He deserves negative stars, if you’re being honest.)

“Did you lose a dare or something?”

“Uh… Kind of?” He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I had meant to change my hair color to something more exciting, so I asked the kids at the daycare and they suggested blue. Problem is, the seniors said they preferred my brown hair but I already promised the kids so… Here we fucking are,” he says in one breath, appearing as though what he said was obvious.

“So your solution was to compromise… by coloring half your hair blue, like some botched version of Death the Kid?”

“Exactly!” He beams, glad that you understand him perfectly.

Oh my god… He’s… No words are coming to you right now, but you get the picture.

The thing about Kim Namjoon is… he’s not… bad. Or dumb, for that matter.

Okay, not the best compliment out there, but it’s true. You’ve known for as long as you’ve been a university student, and your first meeting is certainly one for the books. You wouldn’t exactly consider him a “friend,” and an acquaintance is a bit of a stretch on most days, but he’s a nice guy. He’s eccentric in the most positive way, and not at all in the same chaotic and evil way that Seokjin is (for which you are thankful for.) It has always been a bit tricky to get close with him, as his head is always so far up in his work that it almost feels like he’s being reclusive on purpose.

If you ignore the fact that he has that odd propensity to volunteer himself in any job on the face of the earth (with him being unqualified 9 times out of 10), it is easy to see why people think so highly of him.

He is a scholarship student with a 4.0 GPA, is the youngest candidate to ever receive the university president’s yearly public commendation, and has already released two reputable mixtapes with high praise from critics nationwide. He’s nothing if not a prodigy, and he’s amassed a hefty following for his accomplishments. As a music major yourself, it’s hard not to be a little starstruck with him if you’re being honest.

Most of all, you remember the first song that you had ever heard from him: Moonchild. You still can’t quite believe he let you hear one of his many masterpieces when the two of you had just been total strangers. The lyrics had been so heartfelt, so intimate, that you felt as if you were intruding on his personal space or something. But he had let you listen, let you take a peek at what goes on inside that nebulous brain of his. When he does things like that, it makes it easy to understand why people might think your love poem might be about him. He’s just so… easy to admire.

The poem isn’t about him, but. It could have been, in some other life. (Or maybe it is.)

(Was.)

(Will?)

Regardless, you still have to convince him otherwise. You just simply aren’t ready for that type of development, much less with him. Despite all his good sides.

Thus, Kim Namjoon leaves you at a standstill. Why do you feel so fucking weird about harboring this idol crush on him? How can he be so dumb and so smart at the same time? He has blue fucking hair for crying out loud! He’s causing you cognitive dissonance just by existing, and it’s giving your meagre amount of brain cells a workout.

Oh shit, have you been ignoring him? You were totally zoning out this entire time, haven’t you?

Somewhere around the time you were having your mini mental breakdown, Namjoon’s mouth had stopped moving, giving you an expectant look. Oh shit. He probably asked you something. Embarrassed and unwilling to give away that you had not processed even a single word out of his mouth, you nod and give him an approximation of what you assume is a friendly smile.

For a second, you think that you might have gotten away with it when Namjoon’s face breaks out into an enormous grin. He grabs you by the shoulder and envelops you in an chokehold-like embrace. You let out a wheeze, clawing at his biceps with your remaining strength to try and prevent your untimely death due to asphyxiation. “Namjoon..?”

He lets out a shriek at a higher octave than you thought a man of his size was capable of. Somewhere out there, a dog probably perks up at the supersonic sound. “Y/N, I knew I could count on you! Thank you so much for agreeing to help me with the elders for Zombie Tea Time!”

Now that caught your attention. You pause in your squirming to fix him with a confused expression. “I’m… I’m sorry? What did you say?”

His smile never falters. He presses his cheek against yours, rubbing it happily with a hum. In any other scenario, you might have fainted from how adorable he was being, but seeing as how all your blood is still trapped in your upper extremities from his vice hug, it is difficult enough trying to remember how to stay alive.

“Every Saturday, the senior home hosts this event called Zombie Tea Time where the old people all get to have their faces painted with fake blood and all the volunteers have to pretend to be innocent civilians trying to get away from them!”

The more Namjoon speaks, the more you feel your sanity dripping out of your ass like diarrhea. “Ex. Excuse me? Say that again?”

“Yeah, it’s a new thing the volunteers are trying out this month,” Namjoon says, finally (finally) releasing you from his hug. You don’t know if your flushed cheeks are from embarrassment or a stroke. “Like I said, we’re a bit shorthanded today, so I’ve had to wash the plates from breakfast AND pretend to get eaten by senile zombies. It’s… a lot.”

“Oh, I can tell.” You grimace, patting him on the shoulder empathetically. You freeze. “Wait. So that’s why you were screaming a while ago?”

“Huh?” Namjoon pauses, before his face does something funny where it looks like he’s either going to sneeze or take a shit. Thankfully he does neither, but instead reaches his hand around his back like he has an itch he needs to scratch. He makes a pained yelp, plucking something out from his asscheeks and pulling out what appears to be––

You stare at the object in his palm. “Are those… dentures?”

“Hmm…” Namjoon stares at it, too tired to be disgusted. He just nods his head sagely. “Must’ve been when I was too slow to dodge Mister Lee’s lunge. I was beginning to wonder why my ass felt like it was being eaten out.”

“Please, never say that sentence to me ever again.”

“Yea,” he agrees, sighing faintly. He pockets the teeth much to your horror, patting it gently like he hadn’t just placed a pair of dentures in his fucking scrubs. He dusts off his hands, his lips pursed so that his dimples stand prominently on display. You barely contain yourself from sinking your finger right into their hypnotizing abysses.

He looks at you hopefully. “So… Uh. You said you’ll help me?”

Oh right. You fucking said you’d help him fend off a hoard of virulent old people in face paint.

You look to the right, where the coffee shop is just within sight. Sweet, sweet caffeine, tantalizing you with its saccharine presence, dangling its wretchedly addictive power over your head. If you breathe deeply enough, you think you can smell the coffee beans from here.

You turn back to Namjoon, and you can physically feel the weight of his hopeful gaze on your shoulders. Your defenses have never crumbled so quickly in your life. Fuck him and his stupidly handsome ass.

You sigh, resigning your fate to eternally being whipped for a pair of pretty long legs and size B man titties. “Let’s fucking do this, I guess.” Easier said than done, but you already have one foot in elephant shit, so might as well submerge your whole body as well.

You follow Namjoon closely, having to take two extra steps for every one step that he takes. He crosses the reception area quickly, sending energetic finger guns at Hana which unsurprisingly goes unrequited. You take the more inconspicuous route and wave shyly at her, intimidated by her even after you have long since stopped working here. She levels you with one of her infamous hundred yard stares, lips turned downwards as she appraises you.

“You’ve decided to come back?” she asks, leaning back on her chair with a huff.

Namjoon is in the midst of trying to once again carry all the plates in his Play-Doh arms, so you’re a bit distracted when you shake your head in response. “Uh. N-no, Namjoon just asked me to help with the dishes, that’s all.”

“That’s a shame,” Hana says, no trace of disappointment in her voice whatsoever. She returns to her book, buzzing open the double doors to let the two of you pass. She flicks her hand lazily at the commotion happening behind her. “Better hurry back in there. The seniors are getting antsy.”

The doors open automatically, and you almost topple over when you are immediately bombarded with the terrifying symphony of old people hollering obscenities at frantic volunteers trying desperately to get away from their gnarled clutches. The hoard hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, and you fear to wonder what type of horrors that you will have to face once you step through those doors. You absolutely refuse to die on this hill, not when you haven’t even had your first kiss yet.

“I don’t think we’ll die,” Namjoon says, as if he can read your mind. You look at him skeptically.

“You think?”

He clears his throat. “I can’t promise we’ll come out of this unscathed, though.”

He takes a tentative step forward, the pile of dishes wobbling dangerously on their perch. You are quick to steady the leaning tower of Disa(ster), managing to transfer half of it into your own arms. You grunt, adjusting your stance so that you do not accidentally lose your grip. “Dude. How the hell did you get all those plates out here in the first place?”

Namjoon stands up straighter, the weight significantly easier for him to manage now. He smiles cherubically back at you, eyes crinkling cutely. “Oh, I was literally on survival mode and trying to stop lil Mrs. Sun from gnawing my leg off. The elders can smell fear you see, so they were definitely going to climb on top of me like World War Z and probably kill me.” He pauses, deep in thought. “Although, I think I dropped a plate or two while I was escaping, so watch your step!”

He says all of that with the same eagerness as man who is about to do something crazy, like jump out of a plane or walk a tightrope over a 100 ft canyon. Though, you have to admit that this entire scenario feels like it is on the same calibre.

“Is it me, or are the old people here 10 times crazier than I remember when I volunteered here?”

“You used to work here?” Namjoon says, amazed. “Oh, I didn’t know that! I only started a week ago when some other person resigned due to mental health issues or something.”

“You sure that this place isn’t the cause of their mental decline?” You say it like a joke, though you mean it seriously. Maybe the universe had been looking out for you when decided to get out of this place.

“Hmm… Maybe. Although, we only received this shipment of old people fairly recently.”

Pause. Rewind. “S-shipment?” you repeat, staring at him wildly.

Like the lovable airhead that he is, Namjoon fails to notice your astonishment and instead takes the first brave step forward through the double doors. He tilts his head towards the hallway, gesturing for you to follow him. The plates rattle dangerously from his movements. “C’mon, we gotta get these plates cleaned before the lunch crew comes to take over their shifts!”

Walking to the kitchen is easier than you thought, especially after you take into account the fact that all the old people completely ignored you and chose to only attack Namjoon, for whatever reason. You like to think that it is because the seniors still remember you back when you were still volunteering here and that they hold some semblance of endearment for you, but Namjoon begs to differ. In fact, he screams out his hypothesis as to why you have been left unharmed, all while two older women climb his back like demented crabs.

“Y/N! I think they can’t attack you because you’re in civilian clothes! They only attack scrubs!” Namjoon says, swatting away one of the women off his back with a surprisingly coordinated headbutt. She shrieks as she falls, landing on all four legs like a cat would do. She hisses lowly at you, before scuttling off to somewhere unseen.

“Let’s hope you’re right,” you wince, watching Namjoon unsuccessfully trying to spin quick enough to dislodge the remaining senior.

Namjoon perks up when he catches a glimpse of his attacker’s face, giggling and appearing as if he isn’t currently being assailed by a senior citizen. “Oh, Ms. Kim! I didn’t see you there. I love the zombie make-up you got going. Who helped you?” He looks at you, as if imploring you to compliment her as well.

“Uh. Yes. You’re looking very… yellow.”

Ms. Kim snarls, baring her teeth. “It’s the jaundice,” she says.

Not wanting to stand in that hallway any longer, you carefully place the plates back on the floor before you gently unclamp the old lady’s talons from Namjoon’s poor biceps. You wince, feeling the length of her nails and knowing that Namjoon is going to have some nasty scars.

You tell him so, but he only shakes his head. “Nah? I think they’d be pretty neat! Battle scars are cool right?”

You grimace at him. “If that’s… what you think, then sure.”

After grabbing your plates and hurrying after him before the elders make note of Namjoon’s survival, the two of you share a sigh of relief as you both slowly start piling them into the dishwasher. The task is menial and repetitive, and despite what Namjoon’s earlier chattiness might have suggested, he is quiet while he works. The silence is not as awkward as you feared, and honestly the peace is a welcome respite after all the chaos that you had to endure in such a short period of time. Although, silence has never been a good friend to your overworked mind, as it allowed you to stew inside your own head for much too long––and you have found in your 20 years of existence that it is probably for the best that you are not left without external stimulation for too long.

But here you are, forced to do exactly that. You would have engaged in some conversation with Namjoon to stop yourself from getting in over your head, but you are afraid of what sort of embarrassing topics might spew out of your mouth if you do. Heaven forbid that you start geeking out on him about your unhealthy obsession of collecting miniature glass horse figurines––that is a secret best kept between yourself and the tentacle monster under your bed.

You begin reflecting on the events from the past two weeks, replaying them second by agonizing second and ruminating on the state that your pitiful young adult life has become. The more you allow these memories to simmer, the more you slowly realize the weight of the accumulated stress that has long since made you hunch over like a goblin.

Hoseok and Jimin’s argument comes to the forefront of your mind, the unexpected heat coming from both of them confusing you to no end. You still don’t know the source of their ire towards one another, but what baffles you the most is how you could have missed it in the first place. Sure, you had thought they were at least more than acquaintances; one does not simply challenge a near stranger to a dance off in the middle of a library three times a week, for more than two months and counting. Friends might have been a stretch, though you can’t say you’re familiar with how their schedules look like outside your tutoring sessions together.

The question is though… should you interfere? Normally, you would have stayed far away from anyone else’s drama––you just aren’t the type of person to stick their noses in other people’s business. Yet somehow, you feel as if your poem was the catalyst to this violent chain reaction, that you have inadvertently caused the foundation of a precarious building to explode and bring the whole thing crashing down. To think that your silly love poem for a boy who hardly knows that you exist has become the center of so many people’s lives… the entire thing is giving you a headache.

Speaking of headaches… you should probably confront Namjoon about the poem as well. It is probably best that you plan your approach better this time, seeing as how your two previous attempts have been anything but stellar. Namjoon can’t be that difficult to convince, right? And even if he does see right through you, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who would laugh cruelly at you in the event that he figures out that you are the author. Not like Seokjin, at least. Luckily no one is like Seokjin, the fucking rat bastard that he is.

(In the distance, Seokjin has the sudden animalistic urge to slip anthrax in your milk tea the next time he sees you.)

You glance at Namjoon from the corner of your eye, definitely not ogling the way his arms flex as he loads the final couple of plates. The breath catches in your throat when you realize that some time while you were busy swimming in your junkyard of a brain, he had rolled up his sleeves up to his forearms, displaying his god-like veins for the eyes of the deplorable (you) to feast upon.

Your mouth feels dry, even though other parts of you feel more moist than you remember. Oh god, now is not the time to remember how hot this fucking nerd is.

Despite the fact that your biological clock is screaming “HORNY HOUR” at your monkey brain, Namjoon continues to be thankfully unaware of your internal panic. He closes the dishwasher door shut, clicking it on with a relieved sigh. He gives you a megawatt smile and makes your heart leap into a somersault, probably knocking around some vital organs along the way.

“Thanks so much for the help, Y/N! Couldn’t have done it without you!” he cheers, clapping you roughly on the shoulder. You wheeze under the impact, waving away his concern despite feeling like your lungs have probably slipped out of your asshole.

“It’s no problem, Namjoon…” you sigh, gazing sadly as Namjoon begins to do a final sweep of the kitchen before inevitably going to sign off for the day. You know your window of opportunity has already closed, and if you had not spent so much time staring at his beautiful man tiddies, you are sure you could have been a little more productive with him. Curse him and his damn chest.

But now, at least you’ll have more time to think of how to approach him and bring up the poem when you aren’t, like, seriously decaffeinated and on the cusp of a heart attack. You are about to bid him farewell with your tail between your legs when his hands cup your cheeks, catching you off guard.

You splutter incomprehensibly, arms flapping about like a fish out of water. “Wha––?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention! After my hours here at the senior home, I have the afternoon shift at the daycare center near our university and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”

If Namjoon’s cool, large hands holding your face like a delicate flower had caught you off guard, then his sudden invitation only exacerbated the furious blush blooming across your neck like a rash.

So what do you say?

“Meep,” is what you say, like the verbose poet that you are. Y/N, renowned campus poet, has the vocabulary of a five year old.

“Is that a yes?” Namjoon smiles, letting go off you in favor of looping his gangly arms around your waist. Another unflattering noise escapes your throat at his proximity and his firmness. “That’s so great! The kids love seeing new faces, and I bet they’d love to have a pretty girl around instead of plain ol’ me all the time!”

You gape at him. Did he just say…

“P-pretty?”

“Yea, sure!” Namjoon says, his stupid grin still on his stupidly handsome face. He does not appear to be embarrassed at all by his brazenness, which is starting to make you think he is either a well-seasoned flirt or just plain oblivious to the implications of his own words. Knowing him, you wouldn’t put it past him that the latter might be the reason.

Compliments and unintentional flirting aside, you really did not feel up to another harrowing experience with Namjoon at one of his other volunteering stunts. You are but a woman in clown shoes, and even the most seasoned clowns must have their rest.

“Listen, Namjoon… I don’t think I can go with you. I have to go, uh,” you pause, your hamster brain working a mile a minute. “Water… my dog? No, I mean… feed my plant.” You cringe, mentally slapping yourself.

Namjoon, the sneaky bastard, hits you with his strongest and most potent puppy dog eyes in his arsenal. It was super effective! “Please, Y/N? I won’t take too much of your time! Just play with the kids for two hours and I promise to leave you alone!”

C’mon, Y/N. Focus. Are you the type of woman to break down her defenses for the wilful fancies of any man? You’re made of stronger stuff than this. Surely you can look him in the eye and tell him straight to his face that you would prefer to go home and rest on this beautiful Saturday than go frolicking with a bunch of snot-nosed children––

“Oh, sure. Why the hell not?” you say, like the dumb fucking idiot that you are.

Namjoon’s dimples deepen even further. You glare menacingly at them, knowing full well that they were entirely the cause of your weakness.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! The kids will really appreciate your presence! C’mon, we haven’t got time to lose!”

Namjoon does not even give you the time to fully comprehend your own pitiful existence before he nearly tugs your arm out of its socket as he maneuvers you to the local daycare just a few minutes away from the senior home. You don’t get to say your farewells to any of the seniors or your old work colleagues, but it might be for the best… You will need all the sanity left in your body to survive the rest of the day with Namjoon.

On the bright side, that means you’ll have the chance to talk to him about the poem, though you’re still hesitant to do so with how badly your previous stunts had ended up. But then again, when else would you get another good opportunity to talk to your crush acquaintance about this? You suppose you’ll just have to wait and see what happens next, and hope for the best.

You have been at the daycare for almost three hours now, and there are still no signs of you ever bringing up the poem. You might as well sign your last will and testament with the macaroni art supplies currently decorating your body, making you look like a morbid pasta dish monster from hell. You hope to god that the sticky stuff all over your skin is just cheese… White, rubbery scented cheese…

“Ain’t this fun?” Namjoon calls out from somewhere, presumably under the mass of ten or so toddlers all climbing him like a tree. You are caught in a state of déjà vu as the children start feasting upon any exposed areas of skin that their kid-sized incisors can find.

You just wanted to talk about the fucking poem for fuck’s sake! Instead, you have to deal with thirty 2-foot children and one 6-foot manchild during one of your only free days in a week.

A miniature demon tugs your sleeve, forcing you to tear your eyes away from Namjoon’s slow demise. You bend down to the little gremlin’s height, mouth twitching upwards in what you hope is a somewhat decent smile. Judging by the kid’s unimpressed face, you doubt it.

“Yes?”

“Miss Y/N? Can you tell your boyfriend that Jake peed in the ballpit again? Aera slipped on the puddle and now she’s crying and disturbing the younger kids.”

Record scratch, freeze frame. Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that. Out of all the things the kid had said, you are sure that his implication that you were Namjoon’s girlfriend should not have been on the top of your list of priorities, and yet here you are, your cheeks as flushed as a baboon’s ass.

“He’s not––We’re not––” you stammer, waving your hands as you try to explain to this unenthused six year old that what she said was entirely impossible. “Namjoon is just a friend!”

You turn to look for the man in question, desperate for him to back you up when you realize he is no longer there. Confused, you leave the huffing child in search for him. You leave the main playroom and search the nearby nurseries, the kitchen, the bathroom… all of them with no Namjoon in sight. Just so you can cover all your bases, you decide to check one of the supply closets too, not really expecting to find anything except––

“Namjoon? What the fu––fudge?” You quickly correct yourself, noticing that not only is Kim Namjoon inside the cramped broom closet, but he is also surrounded by five other children huddled around what appears to be a series of tupperwares connected together by plastic straws.

Namjoon hastens a glance at you, before refocusing his attention back onto what he deems to be more important. He nudges his shoulder against the smallest of the bunch, stage whispering into her ear. “Jihyo, did you bet the three lollipops on Ant #3?”

Jihyo shakes her head, looking mildly offended. “Oppa, do you think I’m dumb? I bet all of my chocolate bars on Ant #6.”

Namjoon whistles lowly, impressed. “All-in? You’re one smart lady.”

You clear your throat. “Namjoon.”

Namjoon has the audacity to hold a finger up to silence you. “Give me a sec… Okay, Seungcheol. You said ten hard candies for Ant #2?”

“Namjoon. Are you seriously running a gambling ring in a daycare?”

He peers up at you, smiling sheepishly. “I’m, uh… Teaching them about capitalism.” He deposits the candy bets into his pocket before starting the timer on his phone. The children begin to cheer raucously, little fists pumping up as they watch their bets race towards a slice of cake.

“I can’t believe this,” you groan, wanting nothing more than the earth to swallow you whole.

Eventually, Namjoon exits the closet, gently closing the door. The shouts of the children become muted immediately. When you gaze inquisitively at him, all he does is shrug his shoulders. “What? Secret clubs allow people to explore their interests.”

At this point, you don’t really want to argue anymore. And so, the hectic day goes by, full of running after the children and occasionally having to reel Namjoon in when he does something bordering on negligence. The parents slowly start filtering in by five in the afternoon, most of whom pat Namjoon affectionately on the back and thanking him for his stellar daycare service.

“Oh, Namjoon! My little Jihyo absolutely adores you! She hardly wants to leave whenever I come to pick her up.” Jihyo’s mother smiles, slipping a small tip into Namjoon’s waiting palm. The little shit pockets it, bowing graciously at her.

“All in a day’s work, madame. I just love children, you know?” he says, sighing dramatically.

From behind her mother, Jihyo gorges herself on her prize winnings, shoving a whole packet of M&M’s into her mouth. She swallows them quickly when her mother turns to bring her home.

“I hate this,” you say to yourself, smiling through the pain.

“Oh, before I forget!” Jihyo’s mother dashes back inside, startling you. She approaches you, grasping your hands in hers and shaking it wildly until you can hear your joints pop out of their sockets. “Your name is Y/N right? Thank you for taking care of Namjoon, too. It’s so nice to see that he’s finally snagged a girl as pretty as you.”

It is a testament to how dead inside you truly are by how nonplussed you are by their unfounded accusation. At this point, they could congratulate you on your recent engagement to Namjoon and you probably wouldn’t bat an eye.

“Thanks.” All in a day’s work of being a madman’s little bitch for the day.

After the last child is taken away, your Saturday finally ends. There had been no poem discussion and no progress made; only your respect from one of your long-time crushes being whittled away like the soaps on those ASMR channels until you are left with useless cubes of Irish Spring scented granules.

On your way home, you pass by Seokjin sitting languidly on the bench outside the coffee shop that you had originally intended to go to this morning. The closed sign greets you impetuously, and your wounds are salted further by the sheer presence of the most annoying man on the planet.

Seokjin sips on his venti iced Americano, Gucci sunglasses tipped downward on his nose. An odd, high pitched windshield wiper sound escapes his lips, and you belatedly realize that he must be his version of laughter. “Y/N. So nice to see you. I’m guessing that you just came out of a… fishy affair?”

You grind your teeth, flexing forward with the intent of hitting the rat bastard. Fish crackers fall out of your hair in clumps from your movement. “I’ll eat your toes if you say another word about this.”

You say that, but you know that there will be photos of you out on Facebook by the time your head meets your pillow for the night, as you hear the telltale sound of a camera shutter go off as you limp sadly back home.

The following Monday, you resolve to talk to Namjoon during your History of Music class together.

Now normally, you would never subject yourself to sitting near Namjoon in class. No, it is not because of your debilitating crush, nor his eccentric personality, nor something unexpected like insanely toxic body odor (which he does not have, by the way. He always smells alarmingly like cotton candy.) In fact, nobody likes to sit near Namjoon, made apparent by the two row radius of empty chairs around him. As much as everyone adores and idolizes him for his talent, no one can stand his propensity to overachieve like the infuriating know-it-all that he is. His hand is perpetually up in the air, begging to be picked for recitation, always with something profound to say.

“Sir, I don’t think your notes are correct. From my research, that type of music would not have existed until the 1600s––”

“Namjoon,” your professor seethes, Powerpoint clicker clutched tightly in his fists. His left eyebrow twitches concerningly as he tries to calm his breathing. “I would prefer it greatly if you do not question the actual expert in this area, is that okay with you?”

Yeah. He is definitely not someone you’d want to sit beside.

Though, he really makes it hard not to want to be around him. Despite all the imperfect parts of his personality, Namjoon always looks like the cover model of what a perfect college boyfriend should dress like. Terrible dyejob aside, his hair is slicked back in a fashionable way, revealing his beautiful forehead for all of humanity to behold. He is wearing a fitted graphic tee under a denim jacket, with loose brown slacks that look good on his endlessly long legs. To top it off, his signature wire-frame glasses sit daintily on his nose, making him appear as smart as he is.

You are suddenly reminded of the true scale of your crush on him as sweat begins to build on your neck and down your backside. How the hell are you going to approach him now that you are perfectly aware of how good he looks? It is people like Kim Namjoon that remind you of this universal truth: attractive people only exist to cause the less fortunate to forget how to use their basic motor skills.

Focus. Remember how much of a crackhead he was last Saturday? Okay, retain that information. Remember how fucking stupid he is, and this will be much easier on your heart and your loins.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way to where he is seated, right at the front of the class. It is a long way down the auditorium to where he is, and you can feel the stares of a few of your classmates as you make the treacherous journey right into the proverbial lion’s maw. You do your best to ignore them, quietly sliding up next to him and waiting for him to notice your presence.

From the corner of your eye, you can see that he is jotting something frantically on a notebook, a mess of words in more languages than you can speak decorating every available space on the smooth white pages. At the top of the paper, you can see what might be a tentative title for a song, perhaps? You can’t be too entirely sure, as Namjoon is part of so many clubs and organizations that he might as well be writing next week’s lunch menu for the cafeteria.

(Highly doubtful as Namjoon has a reputation for allowing inflammable things to catch on fire, but you wouldn’t put it past him to at least try and apply for a culinary position.)

It seems that Namjoon is too immersed in his writing to greet you himself, so you have to be the one to steel yourself and strike a conversation with him instead.

“Uh. Hey… Namjoon?” Smooth like butter. Seokjin would be proud.

Namjoon doesn’t reply. He keeps scribbling along, humming something indistinct under his breath.

You clear your throat. “Namjoon?”

No response. Again, “Hello?” You wave a hand in front of his face. His blinking slows for a second, but he continues to ignore you.

Starting to get pissed off, you huff quietly to yourself before bringing your palm backwards and slapping him upside the head. “HEY PANINI HEAD! YOU FUCKING IN THERE OR WHAT?”

That manages to bring him out of his headspace, thankfully. “Huzzat?” Namjoon jumps, cradling the back of his neck gingerly as he stares at you, confused. Recognition filters through his eyes as he realizes belatedly what had just happened. He blushes slightly. “Oops.”

“Oops is right. Were you really going to ignore me for the rest of the class if I hadn’t slapped you?”

Namjoon shrugs, grinning in that cute goofy way that he does. “Sorry. ‘M not used to people sitting beside me, is all. Glad to have a friend in this class though! Have you always been in this class?”

“Yea, but I usually sit in the back.”

Namjoon nods, turning back to his notebook. “Sorry for ignoring you. I really didn’t mean it. When I’m in the middle of writing, it’s kind of hard to get me out of my own brain. Plus, this draft is due in two weeks and I’ve scrapped three pages worth of lyrics already… I’m kind of in a panic right now.”

You peek over his arm, trying your best to decipher some of his words. Your interest is piqued, always having wanted to see his draft notebook ever since that first time he showed you Moonchild almost a year ago. “Lungs have capsized… I am drowning in my own body… Wow, those are some dark stuff.”

“You think so?” Namjoon squints at his own messy handwriting. “I got inspired by the fish in the aquarium I volunteer in. I’m actually excited to go back there, because I want to play it for the fish and see if they like it.”

“Isn’t it better to play it at the daycare of senior home so you can actually get… human feedback?”

Namjoon gasps, hand to his heart, offended. “How dare you assume that fish can’t give quality feedback!”

“Right,” you cough, raising your hands in defeat. How dare you, indeed. “Sorry.”

Namjoon sniffs, closing his notebook just as the professor walks in to start the class. “You better be. The fishies get really offended when people say stuff like that.”

The professor begins the moment he sets down his things, so you know you won’t have time to bring up the poem, not when Namjoon is already starting to fall into his overachieving know-it-all student persona. You tap him lightly on the shoulder, gaining his attention.

“Hey, I have to ask you something later after class. Will you stay behind for a few moments?”

“Sure,” Namjoon replies cheerily, flipping on his laptop to start taking down notes. He stops in his tracks before gazing warily at you. “Hold on. If this is about the fishies again…”

You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, so you sigh instead. “No, Namjoon. This isn’t about the fishies.”

Appeased, Namjoon returns to listening attentively to the professor drone on about dead musicians and their impact on musical culture. You hardly take any notes, still nervous about talking to Namjoon about the poem. What would be the best way to approach the subject, you wonder? Your previous attempts with Seokjin and Hoseok had featured a lot of yelling and arguing, and you would prefer not to leave a bad impression on Namjoon of all people. Additionally, you don’t want to know what arguing with Namjoon would entail, because you have a strong feeling that any debate with him will only leave you second guessing your entire existence with how good he is at flipping the subject. Or, you could always kick him in the knees, but that would be like overpowering a baby––you’d be a monster for taking advantage of him.

The short one hour lecture flies by quicker than you would like. To your surprise, Namjoon only interrupts the professor twice, so you suppose that’s a win for everyone else.

“Alright class. Please remember that the research paper regarding 17th century music is due on the Friday before your break,” your professor says. He points a stern look at all of you, and maybe you’re imagining it, but somehow you feel like he pauses just a second longer when he passes his gaze over you. “And please, try not to send your paper to the entire student body to air your secret little crushes like a bunch of lovestruck idiots.”

Your ears turn an unflattering shade of red as most of the students chuckle at his little joke, all of them probably not knowing that the lovestruck idiot was just a few seats away.

“C’mon, Namjoon.” You sigh, shrugging on your backpack as you wait for him to finish packing up. Namjoon watches you curiously, brows furrowed.

“You seem dejected. Are you having trouble with class? Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“N-not… not really,” you say, shaking your head. “Can we talk about this outside? People for the next class are starting to come in.”

Namjoon follows you dutifully from behind, and you can hear him bid his farewells to a few giggling freshmen as the two of you exit the lecture hall. They coo openly in his presence, with one of them bold enough to compliment his fairly generous bosom, her fingers twitching as if she is only one push away from grabbing them by the fistful.

You walk towards the small cafe near the entrance of the building, grabbing one of the empty chairs and gesturing for Namjoon to sit across from you. He does as you say, confusion still gracing his handsome features.

“So, will you tell me why you’ve called me out here now?” Namjoon asks. Before you can respond, however, he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a half squished sandwich. He offers you the less crushed half, like the gentleman that he is, but you find it hard to accept when you feel like your stomach is turning inside out with nerves.

“Umm… How do I say this…” You groan, leg bouncing so incessantly that the poor table begins to shake. Namjoon doesn’t even try to stop his other sandwich half from sliding over, instead giving you a concerned glance.

Fuck it. Better to rip the band-aid off in one swoop, right?

“Y/N––?”

“Namjoon, are you aware that people think someone wrote a stupid love poem about you?”

His previously open mouth clamps shut, then. He stares at you in confusion, a dollop of mayonnaise hanging off his jutting chin. “What?”

Panicking slightly, you’re quick to continue your train of thought, probably to your own detriment. “NOT that the poem is about you, by the way. Well, it could be? No? I DIDN’T WRITE IT!” Pause for heavy breathing. “A-anyway, that’s not the point… I just wanted to ask if you were… umm… aware of it. Yeah. That’s it.”

Ohhhh my god. You stupid idiot. Fuck fuck fuck fuck you fucking stupid piece of shit ass tit fuck what other swear words are there oh yeah FUCK!!!

In the midst of your personal mental beatdown, you fail to see Namjoon’s genuine look of confusion, his head tilted to the side as he watches your face turn red. He chews on his sandwich thoughtfully. “Uh? No? I’m not aware? I really have no idea what you are talking about, Y/N.”

You finally stop swearing at yourself. “Wait, really?”

Namjoon nods his head. “Really. What poem are you talking about?”

“Please tell me you’re joking. I don’t really like being teased; I get enough of that from Seokjin.”

“No, I’m serious!” Namjoon raises his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t joke about something that is clearly giving you distress.”

“It’s not causing me distress!” You screech back, voice cracking from your tone going up a pitch. You clear your throat. “Um. Wait. So that means you haven’t heard about the huge rumor going around about a love poem being about you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, lips pursed. “Not a clue. Am I supposed to?”

Huh. You stare at the imbecile before you, his previously handsome looks starting to look less appealing by the minute. Is this shithead for real? Did you really spend hours worrying over how you would approach him about the poem, only to find out that he has no clue what you’re talking about? Like, how is it even possible for him not to know? You can’t even spend a minute doing anything without someone bringing up that stupid mistake of a poem. How the hell did you ever have a crush on him?

“Pardon? Did you say crush something?”

“Oh shit,” you curse, slapping a palm to your mouth. Did you fucking say that out loud?

“Sorry,” Namjoon swallows thickly, a large bite of his sandwich visibly going down his gullet. “I was chewing too loudly so I didn’t hear you properly.”

You heave a sigh of relief. Okay, maybe being an idiot has its benefits.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t anything important,” you say, already arranging your things to get up and leave. If Namjoon is oblivious to all the poem shenanigans that have been circling campus, then who are you to inform him? All you can hope now is that he remains ignorant of the poem at all, and chalk it up as a success in your book. It’s not like he’s going to be curious to find out more anyway––

“Wait! Don’t go! You’ve piqued my interest now. I wanna know what you were talking about,” Namjoon pipes up, leaning his lanky body sidewards so as to block you from leaving. You halt in your movements, surprised by his sudden inquiry.

Sweat starts to form in the middle of your back at his earnest curiosity. “I––it’s nothing, Namjoon. I was just messing with you. Don’t worry about it.” You laugh nervously.

“I don’t think you were?” Namjoon rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t have been so adamant to call me out here just to be joking.”

“Listen, I really have to go. I have another class soon and I wanna grab lunch before I––”

“You said something about a poem.” He remains undeterred, pulling out his phone. “And it’s about me? Well, not about me, if that’s what you’re saying…”

“Hold up!” You snatch his phone out of his hands, holding it behind you to keep it from his reach. Even though you know his inquisitiveness is not his fault, it doesn’t stop you from wanting to punch him square in his cute little nose. Hell, you don’t recall wanting to fight anyone as much as you do right now.

(Seokjin sneezes somewhere in the distance, feeling offended for whatever reason. “Y/N should only be punching me,” he thinks to himself as he dumps way too much purple dye on this poor lady’s head.)

“Why are you being so weird right now? Give me back my phone!” He pouts at you, not at all knowing that your resolve is already quickly crumbling before him.

“I…” You gulp, foot tapping restlessly as you try to think of what to do. “Okay. Fine, I’ll show you the poem. Just… don’t read too deeply into it, okay? It’s just a stupid thing that got too many people excited over nothing.”

“Sure,” Namjoon nods his head, acquiescing quickly. “I don’t really like paying attention to much of the rumors and trends that happen on campus. I just want to see what this poem is all about.”

“Just… don’t let it get to your head,” you mutter, returning his phone to him. You direct him to the university confessions group page, watching as his fingers fumbled with his keyboard. Eventually, he gets to the post (pinned to the top, forever mocking you for your stupidity) and reads the short piece in record time.

There is a pause where neither of you speak. You know he has finished reading it from the way he has started to scroll down to the comments, though he quickly jumps back to the top when you glare at him to stop. He leans back into his chair, closing his phone and stares at you expressionlessly.

You click your nails across the coffee shop table as you observe him suspiciously, his lack of response making you more nervous. “Well?”

The left side of his mouth quirks up––but not in a way that might suggest glee or satisfaction––and he stays frozen like that for a bit. You have the sudden urge to wave your hand in front of him to check if he’s fine, and being the type of person to submit to your urges, you do as you please.

Thankfully, he snaps out of it, blinking quickly as if he’s forgotten that you were there. He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Oh, yeah. The poem, uh… How do I put it…”

“What?” What on earth could he have a problem with? Does he genuinely think the poem might be about him? “If you’re starting to think that the poem may be about you––”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Namjoon opens his phone again, peering at the poem questioningly. “I was just going to say that this poem is a lot less impressive than you were hyping it up to be.”

Excuse me??????? He did not fucking just say that.

“You did not just fucking say that,” you verbalize, glowering at him. You can feel the fumes start to steam out of your ears, but Namjoon remains oblivious (as per usual) to your emotions. He just hums, shrugging his shoulders with his nose upturned in the air, as if he had just smelled something horrible.

“It’s just… the meter is all messed up… Like, I’m all about free verse or whatever, but I can tell the author is trying waaaay too hard to keep whatever rhythm they had going on in the first verse.” He scrolls through the poem some more, before stopping somewhere in the middle. He shows you one of your favorite verses with a look of something akin to disdain. “And what’s up with all the moon references? That theme is so overused.”

“YOUR MIXTAPE LITERALLY HAS A SONG CALLED MOONCHILD! THAT’S WHY PEOPLE THINK THE POEM IS ABOUT YOU!” You explode, spittle flying everywhere from the force of your shout. A group of freshmen sitting nearby jump up in surprise, though most of the older, more dead-eyed college students do not even bat an eye at your spectacle. This university is full of cuckoos, is what they are probably thinking.

The biggest cuckoo of them all looks at you defensively, frowning somewhat irritably. Namjoon continues, “Yeah, but I used the moon in my song in a classy way! I would be offended if someone would write this poem for me after being inspired by my song.”

Is it possible for blood to boil inside your veins? Because you’re really starting to feel heat trail up your back up to your neck, causing you to see nothing but red and the tantalizing vision of your hands around his neck. Easy, Y/N. You can’t afford anger management therapy; you have a tuition to pay.

In all seriousness though, you cannot take this any longer. You have suffered long enough while having to follow Namjoon around like a bitch for two days, and if karma still wants to use the strap on you, then she’s going to have to do it some other day because you cannot physically stand being around Namjoon for another ten seconds if you can help it. And this is coming from someone who is around Kim Seokjin at least twice a week, so it is obvious that your patience and sanity is truly at its limit.

“I’m done.” You are barely able to keep yourself from slamming your head against the table. Instead, you stand up hastily, chair legs screeching against the tiled floor. You shoulder your bag quickly, waving at him without even turning to face him. The sooner you get away from him, the better. “You can think what you want. Just live your life, man. I’m done.”

“Okay? Well, have a nice day, Y/N!” Namjoon calls out a cheery goodbye, though his tone obviously still sounds confused even as you walk further and further away from him, a trainwreck of a human being. You resolve to yourself to call Hana the next morning to ask her to slip some opened sweets into his jean pocket so the ants at the daycare might climb out of their shelter to bite him in the balls.

How did you ever have a crush on that bastard? I guess that mystery will have to remain… unsolved.

Unluckily, your mood does not improve after lunch, nor do you calm down after your next class either. In fact, you are still steaming when you arrive to your tutoring session with Hoseok, so much so that you have completely forgotten to be worried about him after the events of last Friday.

(Record scratch, freeze frame. Pause. What the hell happened last Friday again? Your overworked brain cells can only handle one stressful event at a time, so you suppose that problem with Hoseok and Jimin will have to be solved another day.)

Hoseok, the caring boy that he is, also forgets to retain his moodiness from Friday’s argument when he spots you looking like you were about to pop a blood vessel at any moment.

Hoseok sits hesitantly in front of you, even placing his textbooks gently onto the table as if any sudden sounds might cause you to self-combust and splatter your guts all over the library floor. The only thing really keeping you from doing exactly that is because you wouldn’t want poor Jungkook the library assistant to have to clean up your mess.

“Umm… Hey, Y/N. You okay? You look kind of… red.” Hoseok says carefully, smile twitching on his face.

The suddenness at which you slam your hands on the table causes not only Hoseok, but also Jungkook who is three whole bookshelves away, to jump up in surprise. The former makes a terrified scream to accompany his leap into the air, staring at your frantically with his fists held up in defense.

“AHH? Y/N, what’s going on––”

“SHUT UP!” You point a finger menacingly at him, making him shriek once more. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding audibly. “YOU FUCKING KNOW WHAT, HOSEOK? I’LL WRITE THE NICEST POEM IN THE ENTIRE WORLD FOR YOU, OKAY? YOU DESERVE IT! FUCK WHAT ANYONE ELSE THINKS! I’M A GOOD WRITER AND NOTHING KIM NAMJOON SAYS WILL CHANGE THAT!”

Hoseok’s mouth opens, agape. He doesn’t know how to respond, not quite understanding what you were saying in the first place. A lot of angry words spilled from your lips in such a short amount of time, and Hoseok was more impressed with your flow than anything. Were you a rapper, by any chance?

Unaware of Hoseok’s musings, you huff loudly to yourself, slamming open your lecture notes and shoving them aggressively towards him. “ALSO, I TOOK THE LIBERTY OF WRITING A REVIEWER FOR YOUR MIDTERM! PLEASE READ THROUGH THEM IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS!”

“Umm… Thanks?” Hoseok says, not really sure which part of your loud declarations he is specifically thanking you for. He sneaks a glance at the front desk, thankful that it is only meek little Jungkook in charge today and not the cranky older librarian who already has a personal vendetta against you and your tutoring group for being public nuisances (not that she was unjustly pointing fingers, of course).

Your mental collapse aside, the rest of his tutoring session goes smoothly, with Hoseok still walking on eggshells around you just in case you might feel like exploding again. You know, for fun or something. Although, he does end up asking if he can leave a few minutes early, saying something about a paper due at the end of the week. The excuse doesn’t make you bat an eye until Jimin arrives for his own session, his grin faltering when he sees his hyung not there to greet him with their usual dance battle in the library.

“Ah… Guess Hoseok-hyung really is still mad over what happened…” Jimin sighs, slumping into his chair. He thumbs his textbook thoughtfully, tongue sticking out like a puppy.

“I’m sure it’ll blow over soon,” you say hopefully, though your heart isn’t quite in it either. Coughing awkwardly, you pluck his textbook out of his hands, desperate to talk about something else other than your crumbling interpersonal relationships. You pause at the page, however, before staring incredulously back at Jimin.

“Jimin.”

“Hmm?” Jimin is still listless, head pillowed by his arms on the table. “What?”

“This is a book on differential calculus. I’m supposed to teach you about writing academic essays.”

“Oh yeah,” Jimin sighs, closing his eyes. “I stole that book from some freshman on the way here. The English textbook I usually bring is with Taehyung right now.”

You pause. Actually, now that you think about it… “Jimin, do you actually even go to this university? What the hell is your major, even?”

“Wha-?” Jimin yawns, fanning his mouth with his hand. He blinks sleepily at you with a big, doofy grin. “Sorry, I played MapleStory for hours last night and I haven’t gotten much sleep. Can I just sleep during this session? I’ll still pay you or whatever…” he trails off, stretching like a cat under a patch of sunlight. Before you know it, the soft sound of Jimin’s snoring fills the silence.

Thankfully, Monday ends without much more commotion. You may have come out of this experience a little bit more broken inside, but hey! That’s what character development is all about, babey. You are just glad that Tuesdays are usually your quietest days, as you only have two classes to worry about. It is also one of the days when you have Creative Writing with Sera, who usually manages to rope you in to get greasy fast food after class. Despite the traumatic experience that particular class has indirectly inflicted upon you, your usual zeal and excitement does not diminish in the slightest. After all, writing will always be your first love, so there isn’t any way some silly poem mishap will make you detest it.

Hopefully nothing else will go wrong, because you aren’t so sure your sanity can take much more of a pounding.

(Fwip. Do you hear that? That’s the sound of karma putting on her strap.)

“Alright class, see you guys on Thursday. Don’t forget that we have a quiz at the beginning of class on Thursday, so please don’t be late.” Professor Puth says, his eyelids blinking out of sync. You hate to be someone who assumes what other people do during their off days as it is none of your business, though the perpetual cloud of marijuana that clings around him can only do so much to mask what his recreational activities might be.

“Dude, I think Prof Puth is finding Nirvana soon,” Sera says loudly, earning the giggles of a few classmates nearby.

“I’d be surprised if he could even find the exit of this building,” you snort, just as the man in question trips over air and nearly faceplants on the ground. Like the model students that you are, you both pretend to be busy doing something else, leaving some other poor soul to help your professor.

Two girls that you vaguely remember from somewhere approach Professor Puth. They are quick to help him straighten up, if his groaning and gasping are anything to go by. He thanks them gruffly and waves them off, but the girls seem adamant to stay put.

“Professor, I have a question…” One of the girls asks, nervously tugging on her ponytail. Her friend giggles surreptitiously beside her, urging her to continue. Their odd demeanor causes signals to go off in your brain, telling you to stop and listen. You tug on Sera’s hand, halting her from leaving.

“Wait. I wanna hear what they’re gonna ask,” you mutter, ignoring Sera’s complaints about being hungry. She can wait for her McNuggets for another five minutes, no matter how much she pretends that she’s starving. You had seen her eat two whole burritos before coming into class today.

Professor Puth raises his brow. “Yes? What do you need?”

“We were just wondering if you could… tell us anything about the identity of the author from that poem?” The girl manages to get all of it out in a rush, cheeks flushed as her friend nods fervently beside her.

“Yea, Prof! We’ve been dying to know! The suspense is killing us, knowing that the mystery author is in one of your classes!” The other girl continues, glittery excitement practically exuding out of her in waves.

Professor Puth sighs, leaning heavily on his desk. He appears about as done as you feel. “Listen… You can badger me all you want, but there’s no way I can tell you. Privacy laws prevent us from sharing information like that without prior consent, even though that student in question might have accidentally sent her assignment to the entire school.” You might be imagining it, but you think Professor Puth points you with a knowing look. You gulp, hastily bowing your head and pretending to fiddle with your phone.

“Aww, Prof! It’s been days and the university hasn’t shut up about it! Surely one of the theories on who the author and muse are must be true, right? You can tell us that, at least.”

You can’t bear to keep listening any longer, though Sera has started to become more interested in the conversation as it progressed. “Wait, wait… I wanna hear the Prof’s opinion,” she says, grinning despite your nails digging crescents into her arm as you try to pull her away.

“No can do! Remember, I have your freshman Halloween pictures saved on a harddrive, and you wouldn’t want me to accidentally send that to the entire student body as well, would you?”

That manages to snap her out of it. Quickly, the two of you leave the lecture hall and away from possible discovery by your poem-frenzied classmates. You are also relieved to be able to breathe in fresh air once more, after being stuck in that class surrounded by liberal art students for two hours. You always do feel a little bit more relaxed after class with Puth, although that might just be from all the secondhand drug use.

Perhaps the fumes really did dull your reflexes, as it takes a while before you realize that Sera has been nudging your shoulder.

When you finally glanced at her, there is a sneaky grin on her face: never a good sign. “So,” she begins, a singsong quality in her voice

After having been her friend for long enough, you have become adept at telling what Sera is going to say next. Call it intuition or whatever, but you like to think of it is a self-defense mechanism. As much as she is your friend, she does love digging into your personal life like it is the cover story of some shitty tabloid. You have to prepare yourself to be interrogated.

“You’re going to ask about the poem, aren’t you?”

Sera rolls her eyes, like you shouldn’t have even asked. “Duh, of course I am. What else would I want to talk about?”

You shrug your shoulders, pretending to think. “I don’t know. Maybe you could have asked ‘Hey, Y/N! How’s your mom been? Have you been eating and drinking well?’ You know, like a normal person.”

“Well, firstable, your mom is literally my friend on Facebook and I saw her go out to that bougie high tea place with Jennie’s mom the other day, so I know she’s fine,” Sera says as the two of you round a corner, heading closer to the parking lot where her car is. “And secondable, you don’t fucking drink water, because you like pretending to be a dehydrated piece of jerky.”

“I just like drinking apple juice, okay? Water is weird,” you say defensively, kicking a pebble as you walk.

“Nah, you’re weird,” Sera counters, ever the creative debater. She remains undeterred, however. “So. Any updates on the poem situation or am I going to have tickle the details out of you?”

You groan, pushing her away from your sensitive sides. “Please don’t… I have no upper body strength and I won’t be able to push you off!”

“That’s the point.” Sera laughs, pinching your cheek. She snatches her hand away, only narrowly escapes getting bitten by you. “Why don’t we skip my torture methods then and go straight to the juicy bits? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you!”

“What if nothing has happened since I last saw you?” You grumble, miffed that she really isn’t letting it go. You just want to have one relaxing day, is that too much to ask?

Apparently, it is. Relaxation is a rare commodity these days. Sera snorts, patting you condescendingly on the back. “Nonsense. You’ve got that post-mental breakdown glow around you. You look absolutely radiant with stress!”

The conversations pauses for a bit when you make it to the parking lot. You don’t have to walk too far, as her car is parked relatively close to the exit, which is just another display of how lucky Sera often is in comparison to you. While your unfortunate plebeian ass is busy drowning in shit, Sera is off somewhere aboard a yacht, getting a massage from some Instagram thot.

She hops into the driver’s seat, waiting for you to put your seatbelt on before backing out with one hand on the wheel. “McDonalds?” she asks, though it is pretty much a given that is where you are going. The last time you both tried diverging from your usual hang out spot, you got intense food poisoning from eating at Chipotle. Sera came out completely fine though, that lucky bitch.

She continues her questions on the drive there, and you relent by telling her most of what has happened to you over the past few days. You gloss over the argument between Hoseok and Jimin, not really wanting their spat to suddenly go viral on Facebook as well. Everything else, however––

“Wait, so you talked to Kim Namjoon? The Kim Namjoon? The Namjoon that you had an embarrassing crush on during our first year?” Sera laughs maniacally, almost driving off into the wrong lane. Luckily, you are quick to latch onto the wheel, saving the two of you from becoming roadkill.

“Watch where you’re going!”

“No, but Y/N! That’s literally so fucking funny!” Sera’s laughter has simmered to a giggle, despite the fact that she is still trying (and failing) to furtively glance your way when you hit a stoplight. “Is he like how you remember? God, do you remember how you were after you first met him? All starstruck because your senpai showed you a draft of his single? ‘Oh, Sera! He has the most amaaaazing flow! I’m going to suck his di––’”

“Shut up!” You whine, slapping her in embarrassment. “Believe me, that crush has died, along with any respect I may have had for him. Men are scum, and I’m going to only date girls from now on.”

“Fine by me! More dick to suck for me, I guess.” Sera teases, whistling innocently. Bold of her to assume that there is any innocent or pure bone in her body; you’ve seen her thirst tweets and no amount of holy water can cure the disease that your vision must have sustained.

“I just want the rumors to die down… It would make my life way more bearable.” You murmur to yourself, sliding down your seat.

Sera is silent for a while. The McDonalds is just within sight, so Sera waits until she has finished parking before she turns to face you fully, uncanny sincerity in her expression. It unnerves you how serious she is, not when you know that this is the same girl who would snort sugar packets if you bet her $5. She places her hands on your shoulder, fixing you with a meaningful look.

“Listen, Y/N. I know all of this is tough right now, but I’m sure it’s going to be alright, okay? The rumor is going to die down soon enough, and everything will be back to normal. Stay strong for now.” Her voice is soothing, sympathy dripping from every word. As mortifying as it is to admit, the tears flow down your cheek effortlessly; perhaps it is the consequence of having to bear this burden on your own for so long without anyone actually telling you that it’s going to be alright.

“Thanks… I think I needed that,” you say after a while, sniffling just a bit. Sera grins fondly at you, wiping your tears.

“No need to thank me. I may be a chaotic shithead, but I’m also your friend.” She unbuckles her seatbelt, gesturing for you to do the same. “C’mon, let’s go in. I’ll even share my nuggets with you.”

Despite her best efforts at comfort, you still feel a little bummed. You allow yourself to wallow in your self-pity for a bit, as McDonalds is a prime location to feel shitty about your life choices anyway. The heart attack inducing food, the barely hygienic facilities, the minimum wage high school employees… Nothing else screamed “I’d rather be dead but it could also be worse” quite like Mickey D’s often did.

You wait by one of the booths while Sera goes off to order for the both of you, leaving you with her phone and other belongings. She promises to let you eat four out of the twenty nugget pieces, which is asking a lot considering who you are dealing with. Sera could probably eat sixty nuggets if she so desired, but only stops herself so she can be physically well enough to continue being a thot. Chasing men all day requires physical fitness, or so she says.

When you go to place her things on the other side of the booth, you notice that Sera had accidentally left her phone unlocked. You can see that she had been previously looking at one of those popular forum sites for your university, where most of her repertoire of gossip is usually sourced from. You aren’t usually the type to frequent those types of pages, with good reason too. That exact forum is the reason of your current stress, where your most private thoughts and feelings were revealed for all to see. Any sort of positive opinion you might have had for that site was immediately dashed the moment that cursed poem was released into the wild.

It kind of pisses you off that Sera still uses that forum despite knowing how much anxiety it has caused you, but then again, there is only so much you can expect from her. Her appetite for drama and chaos is her way of life, her only other hobby aside from writing. You also vaguely recall her saying that she gathers inspiration for her short stories from some of the more outrageous posts made by your fellow schoolmates.

In the end, curiosity gets the best of you as you stare at the open webpage, tantalizing despite the murkiness that lies within. Oh, lighten up. It’s just a confessions page… Besides, you also kind of want to see what people are saying about your poem, and whether the commotion might have died even slightly over time. (Unlikely, but you remain hopeful.)

“Let’s see,” you murmur to yourself, sneaking glances at the counter to see if Sera is close to ordering. She appears to still be next in line to order, so that might give you enough time to read a few of the comments on the post. It doesn’t take you long to find the original post either, since Sera seems to have been perusing the same thing just beforehand.

“Typical Sera... Sympathetic in the streets, a nosey bitch in the sheets.” You snort, scrolling quickly through the comment section. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary, except for a few overenthusiastic responses from a couple of people who have bombarded the forum so much that it takes you a few moments to navigate past their thread. You catch a few words here and there, mostly the names of the seven possible muses and not so much the names of any of the possible authors. Honestly, you are more than happy with these turn of events, perfectly content as long as your identity never sees the day where it becomes associated with that disaster piece.

You sort the comments by popularity, wanting to know what everyone’s biggest guesses are. You want to remain hopeful, but as the results start to load, the wave of nausea that suddenly hits you may have been the first warning signal that you should probably stop before you read something that you will regret.

posted by u/SeokjinGod [3d ago]:

[+103, -4] i’m really hoping that kim seokjin is the muse of the poem!! has anyone seen the ads for the new play he’s staring in? he totally looks like the lead actor in a romantic comedy ^^

➾ [+54, -69] psh. that idiot, the muse? PLEASE anyone who has ever worked for kim seokjin KNOWS that it’s physically impossible to form a human connection with that man

➾ [+2, -1] lol seconded

posted by u/namuwuchild [1d ago]:

[+88, -3] WAIT why am i not seeing kim namjoon’s name more often T_T he deserves more love!! stream moonchild or else i’ll bite your ankles

➾ [+1, -6] lol i miss when namjoon used to do actual hiphop… fucking hippie dippie go fuck a tree and some crabs while you’re at it

You sneak a look over your shoulder. Sera is at the front of the line, reciting her orders while the harried employee has to quickly punch in the inordinate amount of food items. Okay… While no one’s looking, time to downvote a couple of these and maybe report some of these assholes… No way in hell are you letting anyone think Moonlight Sonata is about either of those Kim idiots. You would honestly rather out yourself than let anyone think they are worthy of such public displays of love and humiliation.

You are just about to close Sera’s phone and vow never to set foot on social media ever again when the next post catches your eye––the first one where you actually see your name. In fact, your name is generously sprinkled a number of times in this one specific thread.

“Wait a second…” You squint at the top of the thread, reading out the username of the original poster. Is that… Is that your name?!

“User Y/NKook… Oh my god!” You shriek loudly, almost dropping the phone from your sweaty palms. It must be the same person who had organized that merchandise booth in the cafeteria the other week! The number of upvotes on the post isn’t making you feel any better.

posted by u/Y/NKook [3h ago]:

[+98, -5] idk why you noobs are even trying… intellectuals KNOW that y/nkook is real and i won’t take no for an answer… give me my childhood friends to lovers fic RIGHT NOW because this slowburn has been going on for years now and i can’t stand it!!!

➾ [+11, -0] omg op do you know them personally?? how’d you know that they were childhood friends?? i go to the same drama class as y/n and jungkook but they never sit together… are you sure it’s them??

➾ [+20, -1] of course!! they’re even neighbors… besides, haven’t you heard what his nickname is? his friends call him moon eyes for a reason! they say that y/n is the one who gave him that name ^^

You feel your eye twitch, disbelief flooding your senses. Why is this weirdo shipping you with Jungkook? You guys haven’t even spoken properly since elementary school… How does this dude know who you are? Are you being stalked? You whirl your head around, scanning the restaurant for any suspicious people who may or may not be following you. Is this what celebrities feel like when they get shipped with their friends? You feel a sudden surge of respect for them, unable to grasp the situation that you are in. God, you really hope Jungkook hasn’t read any of these.

You go to switch Sera’s phone off, feeling less accomplished than ever before. Maybe it is best to save yourself the anxiety of seeing your world fall apart and try to delude yourself into thinking that the past two weeks have never happened at all. However, there is a certain appeal to reading things that you know you should not, like watching a car crash and unable to look away. The urge to keep scrolling and gaze upon your own personal hell is hard to stop when you have already gained momentum.

“One last post, then I’m done…” You are hard set on that promise, not wanting your apprehension to destroy your peaceful afternoon completely. The next post on the forum greets you with a high upvote number, sending a lick of fear to run down your spine at what you might find. Please don’t be about Y/NKook, you pray helplessly. Little did you know, there are worse things to worry about other than being shipped with your friends.

posted by u/triceratops 👤 [1h ago]:

[+154, -5] hey guys i’m back again with another update! so i’ve managed to shorten the list a bit since last time i posted, and i’m 100% certain that kim seokjin is not the muse! sorry, gamers… our prince is in another castle it seems. worry not, though! that only helps our search better and shortens the list. on the other hand, the authors list has also been edited! turns out that neither jodi nor melody is the author, as they both submitted poems about something else. if you are interested to see the updated lists for both muse and author, please head to my profile and look for the original post titled “Mystery Moon Author & Their Mystery Muse” :-)

You have never clicked on a profile as quickly as you did in that moment. Not even a notification from UberEats could make you move that fast.

Lo and behold, the post that started it all is right at the top of the user’s profile, with the significantly shorter list that they had promised. Sweat begins to build on your temples when you realize that the authors list has decreased to seven names, with your name still obstinately sitting at the end of the lines. When will your suffering end?

There is still something that doesn’t sit right with you, however. As you peruse this user’s profile some more, you feel as if there is something weird about it that you can’t quite place. You never did like using this forum, so maybe you are just not used to the layout of the website? What is it about this user’s profile that is making your stomach coil with nerves?

Wait a second… Why is there an edit button beside their profile picture?

“Y/N! I’m back! Sorry for taking so long; I think I ordered too much again. You’re fine with BBQ sauce on your nuggs, right? That’s all I asked for––” Sera had been happily chirping away, sliding into the bench across from you before finally noticing your stoney face. She pats her face, rubbing her cheeks in confusion. “What? Do I have something on me?”

“How fucking dare you!” You hiss, slamming her phone on the table. Unfortunately, you had accidentally locked the phone in your anger, showing only a black screen.

Sera flinches backwards, bewildered. Her eyes flick to the screen and then to you. “Huh? I thought you liked BBQ sauce on your nuggs? I mean, I can ask for sweet and sour sauce if you want…”

“Unlock your phone right now and explain to me why you have triceratops’ profile logged in.”

Your words begin to click in Sera’s mind. Her face grows pale, her body unconsciously sliding further into the booth to hide from your glare. “U-uh… Haha, what on earth are you talking about..?”

“Don’t even try to lie, Sera. I saw everything, and I honestly don’t know if I’m madder that you betrayed me or that I was stupid enough to believe that you were my friend.”

Sera splutters incomprehensibly at first, waving her arms in panic as she tries to save her ass. “I––! You––! It wasn’t like I––”

You lean forward, peering at her coldly. “Oh yeah? What wasn’t it like? It wasn’t like we were friends?”

“No, of course not! I mean,” she backtracks, tongue-tied. “We are friends! It’s just… I made that post before I knew you were the author and I originally sent the poem to just a couple of people because I was so impressed, and I just wanted to––”

“Hold on,” you interrupt, holding up a finger. She squeaks, staring at you fearfully as you slowly get up to your feet. You cry out, “You were also the one who released my fucking poem to the world?!”

“Anna ou––” Sera whimpers, slapping her palm to her mouth. She lowers it, whispering ruefully. “I… didn’t mean to say that…”

“Oh, so you were meaning to lie to me even more?” You seethe, ready to burst into flames.

The poor McDonalds employee who had come to deliver your order to your table seems too frightened to approach the two of you, her arms shaking both with fear and the weight of five orders of 20 piece chicken nuggets. “Uh, is this a bad time?” The girl asks, eyes darting away from your heated glare.

Instead of answering, you grab the tray from her hands and dump the contents on the table. Sera squawks pitifully when a few of the nuggets fall to the ground, though she absolutely yells when you start chucking them at her head like tiny oily cannonballs.

“What the fuck––Dude stop!” Sera has her arms up in defense, shielding her face from your fiery attack. The sound of you ripping open a BBQ sauce packet has her straightening up, however. “No, not the BBQ sauce! Anything but that!”

“Give me one reason why I should show you mercy.” Your hand is poised to pour the sticky sauce all over her white Valentino bag, ready at a moment’s notice.

“Please, Y/N! I’m really sorry!” Sera jumps out of the booth, and goes on her knees. She clasps her hands together, shaking them frantically. “I really didn’t know it was you at first!”

“Well then, why didn’t you fucking take the post down the moment you did know it was me? I thought you were my friend!” You clench your fist around the BBQ sauce packet, causing some of it to spill onto her bag. She makes a desperate noise.

“I just… I like the attention?” She knows this is the wrong answer, judging by your unimpressed expression. She sighs heavily, head bowed in shame. “Look, I’ll fix this, alright? I genuinely didn’t do this wanting to hurt you… I just got so caught up in the clout that I didn’t really think about what would happen if you found out!”

“‘If’ I found out, huh…” You echo, more disappointed than angry now. You slump back into your chair, taking care to grab the napkins and cleaning the sticky mess on your skin as best as you can. “You really were going to continue doing this for as long as it took, huh?”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.” Her voice is soft, repentant. It doesn’t do much for your sympathy, however.

“Fuck you, honestly. If you really are sorry, you’ll fix this mess as soon as possible.”

You reach for your bag, your movements jostling a few more nuggets to tumble to the floor. You don’t bother saying goodbye, not wanting to see if Sera is doing her Crying Face Emoji impression to try and soften you up. Not this time. This time… you don’t think your feelings can recover after this.

You have read enough stories about heartbreak and longing, but you don’t think any of them top the experience of losing a friend you realize you never even had.

The next morning, there is a new post on the forum from user triceratops.

posted by u/triceratops 👤 [0s ago]:

[+0, -0] Hello, friends. I think I’ve found the author.

It’s Lee Sera.

399 notes · View notes

thegeminisage · 5 years

Text

okay last scene before we FINALLY get back to gameplay:

am glad enough to see replica riku (henceforth known as repliku) again but i don’t understand what it is he wants to do or why he’s here. i’m glad riku’s being nice to him though because i think deep down riku is very kind and caring and when he’s nice to people it’s him getting to be his best self

don’t understand why he wouldn’t have told sora and kairi, though

mixed feelings about this paopu thing!

under one hand: absolutely sora and kairi invented romance and they deserve this!!! seeing those drawings from the cave from KH1 THAT HAPPENED BACK IN 2002 was like...an emotional moment i’ve been waiting for for 17 years

under the other, they’re still playing it with an air of plausible deniability (“i just want to be in your life no matter what, that’s all” = “this doesn’t have to be as serious as you think it is”) so like...what’s the point in NOT including riku? he’s sitting RIGHT THERE??

i mean, the actual romance in these games is way way downplayed in favor of extolling the power of friendship, but sora, riku, and kairi have hardly had ANY time at all together, and most of that was when they were talking business - there wasn’t time for character-developing interaction

like...it’s not necessarily that the part of me who is still 13 years old and fervently shipping fictional video game characters jumped out but the thing is kairi has only had four scenes in the entire 40 hours of my gameplay and in 2 of them she was only with axel (though granted, we did get to read a little of her letter to sora) while in the other 2 she was part of a big group and the focus really wasn’t on her. for all they talked up her and axel being keyblade wielders now we haven’t seen ANY of their journey or development

so like it feels unfair to riku to leave him out of one of the only truly emotional moments we’ve had so far and also unfair to kairi that some of HER only moments with sora are delegated to romance and how he’s gonna keep her safe and blah blah blah. the most development we got from kairi thus far are her musings on namine, which is great, i’m very into that, but they didn’t get as much time or attention as sora’s musings on roxas. i would have liked kairi to address her own helplessness and how she’s different now that she can defend herself and defend her loved ones (ie sora, who has literally died for her) but truly honestly she had more interaction with sora & riku in kh1 and she spent 2/3 of that game in a coma

actually this is part of my problem with ensemble casts in general - like, ok, in mcu, i loved the individual movies, but when they all got together, there was just no time to focus on anybody or their interpersonal relationships. at most people got a handful of lines with one another. it’s part of why i ultimately decided cap3 sucked and it wasn’t fair that after cap2 barnes & rogers got no alone time & never would & i was DITCHING. aqua’s return was understated, aqua and ven’s reunion was understated, aqua and all those little kids she met in birth by sleep who grew up to be heroes in part because of HER only got to speak a little with one another...like, i’m complaining that there are SO MANY long cutscenes with no time for gameplay to let you absorb them, but even with all that extra time this game can’t seem to pace out a reasonable arc with a satisfying conclusion. riku and mickey just decided to save aqua and ven and so they did. kairi and axel decided they wanted to wield keyblades and so now they do. but nobody worked for it. we had lots of INCREDIBLE content in the form of disney worlds but if none of it had any bearing on or foreshadowing to the main plot it’s ultimately just FILLER. yeah, that’s the kh formula, but i feel the balance was off in this one

compare to kh1 & kh2 for example: in those games sora talked about kairi and riku respectively NONSTOP even in the filler worlds...we got a PALPABLE sense of how much he missed them and when he saw them again the emotional payoff was INTENSE

but in kh3, while all these moments are wonderful - riku and sora rescuing aqua, aqua and ven squaring off against evil haley joel, aqua seeing ven again, aqua recognizing sora riku and kairi, sora and kairi sharing a paopu fruit - they’re all also feeling a little rushed, which makes them feel a little empty. i’m enjoying them, i’m glad we’re getting them, i’m excited about them, but i’m not FEELING them in my heart the way. i feel like i cheated and skipped to the end of the game without any of the buildup, but there just WASN’T any buildup

like, in 0.2 aqua thought about terra and ven NONSTOP to the point of HALLUCINATING them she missed them so badly. the reunion between aqua and ven should have been just as emotional as the one between sora and riku in kh2 but i guess there just wasn’t time because they seemed glad to see each other but not like it had been over a decade since and nearly cost them both their lives. evil haley joel showed up to wreck everybody’s day but we only saw him ONE time prior to this. i could go on but i won’t my ps4 literally shut itself off to save power bc i spent too long writing this

anyway my point is: if this is part of why people have mixed feelings about kh3, i totally understand :/

#personal #liz plays kh #kh3 spoilers #long post #im scared for the ending more than ever now lol

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tannie-bell · 5 years

Text

100 Questions!

thanks to the lovely @chioo92 for sending this my way~! 💕💕💕

edit: putting this under read more bc it’s looooong 😂😂

1. What is you middle name?

Elizabeth

2. How old are you?

3. What is your birthday?

october 16

4. What is your zodiac sign?

libra

5. What is your favorite color?

in general black, but i do really like teal and deep greens

6. What’s your lucky number?

i don't really have one, but i like 13 and 16 and 3116

7. Do you have any pets?

yep! two dogs~

8. Where are you from?

a little italian town in the lower half of illinois

9. How tall are you?

technically 5' 1&¾". please feel free to round up to 5'2"

10. What shoe size are you?

depends on the brand, mostly between 8 and 9 u.s. sizes—they have to be wide though, or i have to get bigger sizes and just deal with the looseness 😅

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

i think 8?? but i only actually wear like 4

12. What was your last dream about?

in the last dream i *actually* remember, i was a character from my wip and she was with her husband in like this cozy, dim-lit room filled with furs and ancient pieces and neat stuff and she was moderately pregnant so i just remember feeling so warm and loved inside. looking back it's kind of weird bc i've never been pregnant or in love romantically, but it's still heartwarming

13. What talents do you have?

um, I bake well i think 😂 so far i haven't had any bad feedback...😅

14. Are you psychic in any way?

nope.

15. Favorite song?

gaaaaaaah why is this always so hard mikrokosmos ~ bts or lucid dream ~ monogram

16. Favorite movie?

singin' in the rain, howl's moving castle, moana, all mcu movies i've seen so far

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

someone who shares my beliefs/morals and who supports my passions/interests (and i would do the same for him). has a few quirks he needs a few to survive me lol and is musical, respectful, and romantic. also has a sense of humor i appreciate and vice versa. there are other qualities, but that's the gist 😂

18. Do you want children?

yes! not necessarily biological though, i am very open to adoption

19. Do you want a church wedding?

most likely yes

20. Are you religious?

it depends on your definition of religious. in the sense of believing in a particular faith/religion, then yes

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

yes 😫

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

nope!

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

if you count the drummer from a now-disbanded band, then yes

24. Baths or showers?

showers most times

25. What color socks are you wearing?

plain white—they're extra thick ones though! 😁

26. Have you ever been famous?

in what sense? 😂 locally or within a specific community of people, then i think so??

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

nope. i used to dream about what it would be like, but i seriously value my privacy and i would feel like i had none if i was famous

28. What type of music do you like?

pretty much anything and everything—except country 😅😂

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

nope...

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

three

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

this weird twisted position on my side. it usually ends with my shoulders hurting 😅😅

32. How big is your house?

it's decently large, but we just updated our tiny two bedroom, one bathroom house (for five people for 15+ years 😳) to a five bed, two bath with an open living area/dining room/kitchen. we made it big enough to accommodate both sides of my family around the holidays (bc we have a decently large family that's only growing 😂)

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

cereal or a fruit smoothie with either coffee or black tea (preferably earl grey) assuming i even eat breakfast

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

not yet, but i would eventually like to! thinking about a concealed carry permit as well depending on circumstances

35. Have you ever tried archery?

yess, and i love it!! it always makes me feel like some woodland elf heroine or something 😂

36. Favorite clean word?

like just regular words? pretty much any soft-sounding, flowy word with l’s, like melody or lucent

37. Favorite swear word?

i don't swear so none

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

like 36-ish hours

39. Do you have any scars?

yep

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

...not that I'm aware of??

41. Are you a good liar?

.....i do my best to be honest, but.....i can be....😅 just don't tell my mom

42. Are you a good judge of character?

i think so? i'm not going to be right 100% obviously, but most of the time i think i am

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

yeah, but they're not very good 😂

44. Do you have a strong accent?

depends on where you're from tbh

45. What is your favorite accent?

i reeeaaally like australian accents...

46. What is your personality type?

INFP-T

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

a top and skirt set someone i know bought for a wedding and never wore again. i think she paid $100+ for it?? so i got it for nothing which was amazing

48. Can you curl your tongue?

yep!

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

innie~

50. Left or right handed?

right~

51. Are you scared of spiders?

most of the time no

52. Favorite food?

i'm just gonna go with italian beef with mozzarella bc it always sounds good

53. Favorite foreign food?

ramen, bingsu, turkish delight, gulab jamun, and this one chicken rice dish that i have no idea what it's called but it's a.maz.ing.

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

in general? clean. my room? the best way to describe it is definitely-not-so-organized chaos

55. Most used phrase?

oh my goodness or oh my word

56. Most used word?

like or eyyy

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

......depends. literally anywhere from 5 to 45+ mins...

58. Do you have much of an ego?

i don't think so

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

both

60. Do you talk to yourself?

if i didn't i'd go insane

61. Do you sing to yourself?

^ see above

62. Are you a good singer?

i'm decent if my vocal chords are warmed up enough 😂

63. Biggest Fear?

failing/disappointing others. that and falling from heights

64. Are you a gossip?

no. i do my best not to be, anyway

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

i literally don't know what's considered dramatic anymore

66. Do you like long or short hair?

for my hair? long

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

give me a piece of paper and a pen and yeah 😂

68. Favorite school subject?

english and music

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

introvert~

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

nope

71. What makes you nervous?

being put on the spot

72. Are you scared of the dark?

not really, but it also depends on where i'm at and who's around

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

if it's one of my really close friends I'll jokingly correct their grammar, but that's it

74. Are you ticklish?

.......sometimes.

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

a couple times, yeah

77. Have you ever drank underage?

78. Have you ever done drugs?

79. Who was your first real crush?

this one kid when i was like four or five. his name is tyler. he actually just got married! random i know

80. How many piercings do you have?

none

81. Can you roll your Rs?”

no 😥

82. How fast can you type?

not terribly

83. How fast can you run?

slower than my 70 lb. dog

84. What color is your hair?

dark brown with some blonde and red hints

85. What color is your eyes?

dark chocolate so brown

86. What are you allergic to?

pollen 😥 i think i also have oral allergy syndrome (but that's purely self-diagnosed 😂), so there's that too

87. Do you keep a journal?

i have the past couple weeks for a class, but otherwise no

88. What do your parents do?

my mom is a nurse and my dad is a letter carrier

89. Do you like your age?

ehh, ish

90. What makes you angry?

things taken out of context of conversations, situations, etc. and twisted to portray something else entirely

91. Do you like your own name?

yes~

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

yes! these are just some of my favorites

for girls: lacie everest, elizabeth marie, roselyn chae (or chaela rose)

for boys: vincent alexandre, killian gray, quinton james

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

both~!

94. What are you strengths?

um....i'm very musical 😂

95. What are your weaknesses?

i procrastinate too much and i don't really know how to work on a project with a group

96. How did you get your name?

my mom knew someone with the name (but they shortened it). she later found out that my dad's great- or great-great-grandmother had the same name

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

like seeeeeeeeveral hundred years back, but yes

98. Do you have any scars?

some

99. Color of your bedspread?

off-white/cream and a purple-y maroon

100. Color of your room?

off-white/cream

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

not tagging anyone bc this is like super long 😂😂 if you see this and want to fill it out, go ahead! you brave soul 😂

#thank you~!!#gtkm #if you read the whole thing #i admire your tenacity

2 notes · View notes

esseastri · 6 years

Text

Megan Reads Oathbringer (part last)

I said I’d finish this book before it had been out for a full year, and that’s the 14th, iirc, so I have tonight and tomorrow, but I will finish this book tonight if it kills me, I s2g, I’m ready to be done.

Part 13 encompasses pages 1054-1233 (previous parts)

WE ARE SO CLOSE, GUYS

OH, I wanted to talk a lil bit about the end of part 4, now that I’ve had a sleep and some time to think about it. I still don’t really like it, but I think I can better articulate why.

I feel like a LOT of it is personal preference for Really Not Liking It when my Heroes Turn Out to Have Been Bad Guys All Along. that’s. not fun for me. I don’t find it appealing in any way.

and I know that Brandon is a big fan of his lil ~Sanderlanches~ of emotion, but tbf I think the Recreance bombshell got a little lost in Taravangian’s deluge of bad news. The major impact of that reveal SHOULD have been--yeah, the humans are and have been the aggressors all along. But instead it gets a little undermined and rolled up wholesale into Dalinar Has Been a Bad Before and We Guess He Is Now Too. It feels like it should have been a separate moment for everyone--for ALL the monarchs in the coalition--to realize that...THEY are ALL the bad guys. All of humanity is the bad guys. But it gets overshadowed by their belief that Dalinar has betrayed them and gets dumped squarely on his shoulders so that it’s less about Humanity and more about One Human--who has been our hero for 3,000 pages and now just utterly crashed which is ALREADY upsetting enough without everyone else ignoring THEIR part in it all.

So what I’m saying is that I still feel like the end of part 4 was really badly handled as there should have been two, separate focal moments that got overlapped badly (worldbuilding vs character moments). But I’ve talked to Lisa and Alyx about stuff and I’m a lot chiller with the actual CONTENT of the reveal, and actually looking forward to seeing how that plays out.

tl; dr: feeling better about the content, still very unhappy with the execution.

ANYWAY:

INTERLUDES

“Her people couldn’t be completely gone....could they?” Ah, Venli has reached the Denial stage of grief. that’s. good?

or rather, I suppose...she’s been there all along.

mmmm, I wonder if the different rhythms were created because the Parshendi don’t really do facial expressions, right? like they are crustaceaous, regardless of which form they’re in, so it’s not like shells do a good job at. smiling. Idk, I just wonder if the different hums are bc they don’t really interpret body language the same way humans do.

“The strongest and most skilled of our number are yet to awaken” YOU MEAN THERE’S MORE AND WORSE OF YOU? Great.

You know what I want? An Edgedancer size “novella” about Rysn.

wait, I thought larkins were bad?

aren’t larkins bad?

nvmd, I asked Lisa, they eat stormlight, so Bad For Spren, but not inherently bad. I like having Lisa here to remind me of things I Knew At One Point But Have Since Forgotten Due To Reading So Many Other Things heheh

I love these two Thaylen nERDS

Vstim is a GOOD DAD AAHH

you know, that’s something that’s always sorta bothered me--how do Rosharans go around wearing jewelry that’s giving off enough light to see by? How is that not...overbright and distracting and uncomfortable?

WHOA WHAT

I WAS NOT EXPECTING MURDER

omg the larkin is eating the gemstone that’s been glowing for 200 years, CHIRI-CHIRI NOOO

o_o

right

it makes sense that the voidbringers would have lightweavers, the fused are basically windrunners, but tbh I didn’t think about. you know. evil people that could disguise themselves as ANYTHING #YIKES

yeEAAHH MY GIRL

COME ON BRANDON, GIMME A RYSN ADVENTURE NOVEL. RYSN AND THE LOST TREASURE OF SOMEWHERE-WITH-TOO-MANY-CONSONANTS! PLS.

anyway, on to the main event for the evening: Megan Sobs Her Way Through the Teft Interlude i’m SURE

“the men of Bridge Four would tire of digging him out of trouble” NEVER.

HE HAS A SPREN

SHE’S BEEN THERE A WHILE, APPARENTLY!!??

HELP

uh oh

hold on

WHY IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG AT THE BRIDGE FOUR BARRACKS

WHY IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG

ABSOLUTELY NOT

WHY ARE THERE BRIDGEMEN WHO ARE BLEEDING

I REFUSE

I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD IF HE KILLS ROCK I AM NOT FINISHING THIS BOOK

I’M NOT EVEN KIDDING

HE KILLED ETH???? AFTER HE KILLED MART IN THE LAST ONE HE HAD TO GO AND KILL OFF THE OTHER BROTHER? FUCK OFF, BRANDON

I’ DON’T WANT THIS

PART FIVE, LET’S GET THIS DOOOONNNE

........there are thirteen, maybe (probably) more POVs in this part?

fuck, Brandon, if I wanted to hop around that much, I’d suck it up and read Martin. Uggghhhhh, I hate this.

HAHA whoops, I didn’t realize it was a flashback chapter and I was like “why is present!Dalinar in a stormWAGON?” and then I realized

“wild chickens range this far east” and I KNOW they mean crows or blackbirds or starlings, but. chickens. is still. such a good worldbuilding note.

“felt both an anxiety to be finished and--at the same time--a reluctance to progress.” B I G M O O D

Brandon: *describes the Nightwatcher* Me, whispering: “yiiiikes”

“What is your boon?” “Forgiveness.” CAN YOU IIIIMAAAAGIIIIINNE

OH SNAP

is that...actually Cultivation?

“I didn’t get what I wanted.” “You got what you deserved.” OOF. OOF. How does fifteen points of damage taste?!

“I control all things that can be grown, nurtured. That includes the thorns.” HM

OKAY

I like her.

HA I WAS RIGHT

EVI WAS THE COST NOT THE BOON. HA

tbqh, I’m still not entirely clear on the boon. I guess...she took away the guilt? or the memories that made the guilt? hm.

HE HAD NEVER DESERVED HER.

AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA DAMN FUCKING RIGHT, DALINAR. GOD. YUP. AMEN

merrgghhhh pov shits within chapters grumble grumble grumble

oh dear

big battle time.

yaassss

ok, but the army of spren at the Oathgate might be friend spren. have you checked?

I’m still hung up on Kholinar, ngl, someone, for the love of god, tell me if Skar and Drehey are all right. alive. s o m e o n e pls care about these bridgemen as I do.

(and don’t say Kaladin cares, I KNOW HE DOES BUT HE HASN’T MENTIONED THEM IN 200 PAGES/FOUR WEEKS OF TRAVEL TIME, MMKAY?)

heh, Jasnah being all “Amaram’s bad guys can soak up the arrows while the rest of us escape” and usually, I’m very against the lil foot soldiers getting slaughtered for the misdeeds of their commanders, but if people are still following Amaram, they have Bad Priorities and I’m with Jasnah on this one.

I’m confused

Renarin’s spren is weird?

Jasnah thinks he’s a traitor?

I’m??? CONFUSED AND UPSET???

LET! THE BOY! LIVE!

WHICH ONE OF THEM IS CORRUPTED, IS IT JASNAH? MAYBE IT’S JASNAH?

Me: “Maybe it’s Jasnah???? She spent a lot of time in Shadesmar!” Lisa: “Maybe it’s Maybeline.”

She’s rude and I love her.

OH WHAT HOLD UP

VENLI IS IN THE KNIGHTS RADIANT CHAPTER?

or is it just...anyone listed at the beginning can be in any chapter?

SHE IS NOT LISTED SEPARATELY. HO SHIT

WHAT

YEAH THAT’S THE THING THAT BOTHERS ME: The fused just. sending in regular parshendi parshmen signers whATEVER TO FIGHT. THEY DON’T HAVE TRAINING. THEY’RE GOING TO GET MASSACRED. THAT’S NOT! GOOD! MILITARY! STRATEGY!

ugh, I’m still just. mad about the Recreance reveal.

The humans are the bad guys, fine. But the FUSED ARE DEFINITELY, ABSOLUTELY NOT THE GOOD GUYS??? so what was the point?

SEE SHIT LIKE THIS: “You are here to do as you’re told. In return, you are rewarded with further opportunities to serve.” what the fuuuuuuucckk

like, they’re still BAD GUYS

Here’s the thing--the Recreance reveal doesn’t really change anything. The human heroes are still going to choose the options that are “good” or “right”--Dalinar was already suing for peace, Kaladin was already making friends with the listeners--so saying “these humans in the past were evil” doesn’t change their choices. It doesn’t change the Fused’s choices either--saying “these guys were good in the past” doesn’t make them good guys now--OBVIOUSLY, just look at that dialogue.

So why bother?

The whole series is about choosing to be better, to do better, but the characters were ALREADY DOING THAT, they didn’t need an extra, super depressing motivator to do that. It’s just there to....reinforce the idea? That’s already pretty solid?

idk, I’m still REALLY struggling with this

sigh

back to Venli

so, Odium can CHOOSE what he looks like when he appears--obviously he doesn’t REALLY look like a parshendi, bc he’s not actually their god. If the humans were the voidbringers originally, then he’s theirs, no?

also, # y i k e s, there he is

TEFT IS IN THE RADIANT POV HELL YAH

“You don’t want me. I’m broken.” YES, DARLING, THAT’S THE POINT.

I love him so much I just want to hug this sad uncle of mine

AAAHHH FUCK THE KHOLINAR GATE

WAIT, MAYBE SKAR AND DREHY WILL SHOW UP FUKIN FINALLY

“This is winnable” IS IT THO

BECAUSE LITERALLY NOTHING ELSE IN THIS BOOK HAS BEEN AND AIN’T THAT JUST FUCKING DEPRESSING

oh fun! the thing from the cover! finally!

Here’s the thing: three years ago, I would have loved this book. Three years ago, overwhelming odds and impossible battles and the downward, angst slide of all my favorite characters would have been SO MUCH FUN to read. But now? This year? I’m fucking over it. I’m done. Give me optimism or give me death.

I’m exhausted enough in the real world, I don’t need to be exhausted by the books I’m reading.

“You mind holds firm” UH HUH SURE. P SURE NONE OF THE FUSED ARE SANE, bUT THAt’S FINe

“Could he defeat six? Did he need to?” THE IMPLICATION THAT: IF HE NEEDS TO, OF COURSE HE CAN. I’M LOVE KALADIN SO! MUCH!

DO WE FINALLY GET TO STAB AMARAM!!!!!!!????? FINALLY!!!

DOES KALADIN GET TO KILL HIM? BECAUSE I WILL BE REALLY, REALLY MAD IF KALADIN DOESN’T GET TO KILL HIM

OMG I’M SO HERE FOR THIS

MY BOY

KALADIN RECOGNIZING HIS PROGRESS AND KNOWING THAT HE’S GOT SYL AND BRIDGE FOUR, AND PURPOSE AND THAT HE’S GONNA STAY ALIVE FOR THEM, FOR IT. THAT EVEN THO LIFE SUCKS HE’S GONNA STICK AROUND BC THERE’S GOOD PARTS TOO. KALADIN REALIZING HE’S STRONG AND STRONGER WITH HIS PEOPLE. I’M SO

MY HEART IS SO FULL AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

OOOHHH NOO THAT”S HOT

where’s my Kaladin alone in combat stance facing down 6 fused and GLOWING ART BC I NEEEEEEDD IITTT

my soul

I love him

my soul

You know what? Kaladin never gets the Thrill. I bet it’s because he’s too good for this world.

ahhh fuck they got the thing

at least Rysn and Vstim are still alive! for now.

why do they want the thing tho

whose heart is it

WORRIED ABOUT RENARIN 2K18

heheheh Pattern, “I do not like being stabbed” no, you are usually doing the stabbing, huh? heheh

ADOLIN KISS SHALLAN! ! AHH!! YAY!!!

SOFT BEFORE BATTLE THIS GOOD

god, yup. “Um, hello.” SPEAKING TO THE OATHGATE SPREN WOULD BE SO SCARY

the Argonath spren. Oathgonath? Argonoath? Argonoath. heh

I’ll take Bad Lord of the Rings Puns for 300, Alex

COME ON, VENLI. SPEAK ME SOME WORDS, GIRL.

Oh hey it’s Gawx! Wacky fun.

aahhh shit, it WOULD look like the Alethi were betraying everyone else for real. SIGH.

come on, Lift, get them to help. come on, come on, come on

can we unforbid it? esp since Honor is fucking dead and doesn’t care what’s forbidden or not?

“A man can rule his lands until the citylord demands his taxes. The citylord controls his lands until the highlord, in turn, comes to him for payment. But the highlord must answer to the highprince, when war is called in his lands. And the king? He...must answer to God.” BUT DARKNESS--WHAT IS GOD TO A NON-BELIEVER?

“Don’t be stupid. Let’s go fight those guys.” AMEN, NIGHTBLOOD.

“But it had always been nothing more than a rock.” YEEEESSSS OMG. SZETH!!! FINALLY UNDERSTANDING.

KALADIN NO

goddamnit

UH??? WHY IS NAVANI POV IN THE RADIANTS CHAPTER???? BRANDON??? WHAT DO I NOT KNOW?

Dalinar continues to be an extra son of a bitch, and I love him.

ok, I’m betting it’s just anyone’s POV can be in any chapter, ‘cause the symbol hasn’t changed. so nevermind. I retract my questions about Venli and Navani.

HI LIFT

I LOVE YOU

“Did you forget to feed them?” I’VE MISSED HER WHY ISN’T SHE IN ALL THE CHAPTERS

“Wyndle doesn’t like hurting people” I !!!! LOVE! THEM!

PLS BE CAREFUL ADOLIN AAAHH

NO???

NOOOOOOOOO??

DON’T?? STAB THE SUNSHINE BOY????

I’M?

his sord

swor

d aah

she protec hiom

uuuuuhhhhjfghmgdh

hmfzngrsmkdc

oh snap hold on

Hello Darkness is gonna swap sides? Not that he was really ever on our side, but like. “will make the transition to obeying the Dawnsigners easier” OBEYING? I’m.

that’s Not Great.

“Leave me”? ????? EXCUSE?? NO!!!?? ABSOLUTELY NOT, SUNSHINE BOY, WTF

he has more words

WORDS

GASP

AAHH

LISTEN, DALINAR, ADOLIN IS THE DUELLING BOY. IF YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE A CHAMPION FOR A ONE-ON-ONE DUEL. YOU NEED ADOLIN. AND HE’S BUSY BEING STABBED AND ALSO NOT HERE AND I’M

YELLING

UNEXPECTED SZETH FALLING FROM THE SKY TO SAVE LIFT??? I’M HERE FOR IT

oohh szeth. honey bunches of oats. one day--one day--you will realize that you don’t actually need a master. and you will become something more.

even if you’ve picked dalinar as your new master, which is good, bc following good men is better than bad ones, buT STILL

also, how come we didn’t get to hear his Words??? I WANT TO KNOW ALL THE WORDS. BAD POV SWITCH MADE ME MISS OUT ON SKYBREAKER IDEALS. BOO.

UGH, STAB HIM, NAVANI

ah. ShalASH, got it

there’s Too Much going on, tbqh.

*quietest of wimpers*: taln

help

aahhh darnit, ok. it IS Renarin that’s corrupted. someone PLS let this boy have, like, A MOMENT of peace

oh for fuck’s sake

Let Dalinar fucking have a moment

COME ON

HE’S THE G O O D G U Y, PLS

I’m suffering

RESIST, DALINAR

AAHH

genuinely don’t think you should just be waving Nightblood around

sheathe that motherfucker

pls

also, if Szeth said his words, shouldn’t he have bonded a spren? Doesn’t have have a sprensword? so maybe he....could stop? using Nightblood?

somebody help Taln, I AM TOO FAR AWAY TO HUG HIM PLS HUG HIM

THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T USE NIGHTBLOOD

JUST SAYIN’

BLESS NAVANI. SHE HAS INVENTED THE TAZER

or possibly weaponized the Cruciatas Curse, but EITHER WAY: NICE.

“Dalinar pulled the Way of Kings close to his chest, clutching it like a child with his blanket at night” MOOD ALSO SAME I FEEL THIS ABOUT MY COPY, TOO

STOP KILLING BRIDGE FOUR

I WILL YELL AT YOU, BRANDON

I WILL SEE YOU ON THURSDAY AND I WILL YELL AT YOU

“Dalinar Kholin is no more” UH HUH, SURE

That would be boring. We’ve already seen the Blackthorn. It’s boring unless we get something new.

fuck off amaram

gross? not recommended.

don’t swallow foreign objects

something GOOD HAS TO HAPPEN SOON OR I’M GONNA FUCKING SCREAM

I’M TIRED GIVE ME HOPE

IT’S BEEN, LIKE, 300 PAGES SINCE ANYTHING GOOD HAS HAPPENED

BRIDGE FOUR KEEPS DYING, ADOLIN GOT STABBED, DALINAR IS BEING TORTURED, FOR FUCK’S SAKE C O M E O N

(purposely forgeting Lift showing up and Navani tazing people in her assessment of how many pages it’s been since good things have happened)

NO FUCKING SHIT, KIDDO!!! THE FUTURE IS MALLEABLE!!! IT CHANGES!! OF COURSE IT CAN BE WRONG

duh

even I had that wrong--the NEXT step, not the first

GOOD

STAND UP

AAAAHHH

“If I didn’t do those things, it means that I can’t have grown to become someone else.” AND YOU DID! YOU DID GROW! LOOK AT YOU! FINALLY YOU ARE REALIZING IT ONLY TOOK 3FUCKINGTHOUSAND PAGES AAAHHH

YAAAS

YOU’RE MY FAMILY

AAAHH

GOOD SOFT JASNAH!!! NOT A THING I EXPECTED BUT HERE WE ARE

“Maybe it’s time for someone to save you.” *MEEP*

hel p

that’s intense

AAAHHHH

EVI IS A GOOD AND I LOVE HER AND SHE DESERVED BETTER ALSO SOFT AND GOOD AAHH

# yikes

but like, a good yikes

yeah, you fucking better apologize to him

Taln deserves an apology form every single person on this planet, and that includes all the Heralds, and the Heralds owe him, like, a hundredbajillion apologies extra

I have emotions

and opinions

HE’S SO GOOD

AND SOFT

MY GODSON

OH MY GOD

OHHHH MYY GOOODDDDDD

HE’S SO GOOD

oh no I love him so much

TEEEEFFT

FINALLY

YES

GOOD WORDS I’M CRYING OH NO

HE’S

SO MUCH

all my soft boys

best boys

dominoes with crystal transformation? MORE GOOD YIKES

YEESSSSS

KALADIN!!!!!

FUCKFACE!!!

HERE WE GO

LOOK KALADIN, YOU DID SAVE HIM!!! YOU PUT THE SYLSPEAR IN JUST THE RIGHT PLACE TO BLOCK THE SWORD AND YOU DID SAVE DALINAR, LOOK AT YOU

NOW PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE STAB THE EVERLIVING FUCK OUT OF AMARAM

STAND UP AND DO BETTER

LOOK IT’S WHAT i’VE BEEN SAYING THE WHOLE TIME

yes good, heal Adolin, thank you

GOD FUCKING BLESS

LITERAL ORDERS TO STAB THE FUCKFACE

THANK YOU

ofuck he did swallow it

Not Great

every time Adolin talks to his sword, my heart leaps. he actually apologizes and also thanks her and I just! want her to know! how much he loves and appreciates her!

WAKE UP, SWORD! MAKE HIM RADIANT!

COME ON

FUCKING

YOU ABSOLUTE HOOKWORM I CANNOT BELIEVE

TWO SHARDBLADES. OF FUCKING COURSE HE NEVER GOT RID OF KALADIN’S. FUCKING

PIECE OF

ROTTEN SHIT I’m. hate him.

much

ooohh Shallan!!!!!! I’m proud of her!! She’d created them to be strong when she wasn’t but she doesn’t need them now aahh!!

OH HEY, FEN’S SON DOES HAVE A NAME and it’s a garbage Thaylen name. Kdralk? all right then

“Life could not be lived making decisions at each juncture.” Szeth.... Szeth that’s. that’s...exactly what life is??? That’s. how you do, actually, live life? I’m ???? ??

‘at the top, they found a jumble of Sadeas troops chipping at a door with hand axes. “I can probably get through that a little easier.”’ HEHEHEH

Lov me a sunshine boy

GOD FINALLY

LET! NAVANI! GRIEVE! THANK YOU

ADOLIN IS SUCH A GOOD COMMANDER, GOD

EXCELLENT TACTICS

I’M SO PLEASED

It’s very satisfying to get Kaladin fighting Amaram and Dalinar fighting the thrill Unmade at the same time

fINALLY something SATISFYINg in this book

listen, I love having the visual of Jasnah’s effortless airsteps from the cover, but I’m still REALLY Disappointed that the covers don’t match up with the flashback character.

It’s Dalinar’s book, it should be Dalinar on the cover, but WHATEVER, WHELAN, ugh.

THANKS FOR ALL THE BROKEN BONES, I HATE IT

It’s never fair when the bad guy brings so many friends to the party.

SHE FINALLY HAS A NAME YES

MAYA IS A GOOD SWORD AND I LOVE HER

eeyyyy GOOD JOB, VENLI!!!

PETITION FOR SUNSHINE BOY TO STOP GETTING HURT

ngl, his is the battle I’m actually most invested in rn, other than Kaladin, I just.

want him to be okay

“half expecting Skar and Drehy to be there to pull him to his feet. Storms, he missed those bridgemen.” ME FUCKING TOO, ADOLIN. WHERE ARE THEY ARE THEY OKAY

AAHH!! Renarin gets to protect Adolin THAT’S SO NICE GOOD

I ADORE that Lift and Dalinar are besties. It’s the BEST dynamic, such an interesting combo, and I LOVE IT.

“Amaram was screaming in pain.” GOOD.

WONDERFUL. AMAZING.

BRILLIANT.

FRAME IT.

Overconfident fuckface took his own helmet off, bless hiS HEART

“I hurt, once...after I killed your squad, I hurt.” OH BOO HOO, POOR BABY FELT A TWINGE OF GUILT FOR A HOT SECOND I DON’T FEEL BAD FOR YOU, YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKWEASEL

oh, gross

thanks

THE SPEAR THAT DOESN’T BREAK AAAHHHHHH MY SOUL

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE, WE WERE SO CLOSE

it’s ok, we just need one more good solid hit on that gemheart and we’re DONE WITH THIS LOSER

A DOZEN

RENARIN CAN’T FIGHT A FULL DOZEN BY HIMSELF? OH MY GOD

not good

uugghh fuck Malata, I DON’T TRUST HER

Renarin is very brave. A Good.

OH WAIT, TEFT CAN OPEN THE OATHGATE

YAAASSS

YAAAAAAAASSSS

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASASSSSSSSSSSSSS

I’M SO HAPPY

TEFT OPENED THE OATHGATE

LOOK AT MY BOYS

*SCREAMING CONTINUES*

PHEW ROCK IS ALIVE, I CAN KEEP READING

“YOU LOOKED LIKE PERSON WHO NEEDED HUG” ROCK IS THE BEST I LOVE ROCK I’VE MISSED HIM SO MUCH

Oh right, Dalinar’s still, like. doing stuff. I forgot, ‘cause it’s. Nothing’s happening with it.

Should be focal, but there’s. So much going on.

COME ON, KALADIN, YOU’VE GOT WORDS WEIGHING DOWN YOUR TONGUE.

COME ON, DARLING, PLEASE.

ok that’s acceptable

not ideal

but beautiful

a good, solid Rock.

I will accept this end.

Bridge Four is so, so, so important, I cannot express in words.

oh, quiet screaming:

Moash chapter

oooohhhh buddy

One day, you’ll wake up.

Until then, my very garbage brain will write fic, and it will be glorious.

how do people not ship this

he literally helped her remember herself

he recognized her in her sea of selves and pulled her out, cOME ON

THIS IS THE SOFTEST OF SHIPS AND I’M CRYING

AAHH VENLI!! PROGRESS!!! also what order, I must know

whoo Braize IS Damnation, called that shit, like, a book and a half ago.

“only Ishar survived with his mind intact” A RE Y O U V RE Y SU RE AB T T H A T? ???

oh. those are boring Words, but okay. makes sense, the Skybreakers are kinda. Meh.

ugh, we still have to deal with Hello Darkness My Old Friend? He’s going to come oversee training? ugh.

BEST KISS BEST KISS BEST KISS

OTP: NO MATING

OTP

BEST

KISS

YES

“You mentioned something about kissing me until I can’t breathe, but here I am, not even winded--”

B E S T K I S S BEST BEST BEST KISS

“I don’t think I loved her, Syl. I felt...something. A lightening of my burdens...” THE FEELING WAS FRIENDSHIP BUT NEITHER OF THEM HAD EXPERIENCED IT BEFORE.

“I knew you’d come for me.” brb crying forever

I don’t know if you know this, but I really love Bridge Four.

“We lift the bridge together, Teft. And we carry it.”

[cries quietly into that sentence for the rest of eternity]

TARAVANGIAN IS LITERALLY CONFESSING, BUT WHO WANTS TO BET DALINAR FORGIVES HIM AND STILL TRUSTS HIM

i s2g, Dalinar’s pure goodness is going to be the thing that kills him, in the end.

MOASH WHAT THE FUCK

JEZRIEN

I KNEW Ahu was a Herald, HA, but JEZRIEN HOLY FUCK

actually dead or just bound in the sapphire bc it IS glowing, so. hm.

god

Moash, plllleeeaasseeeeeeeee ugh

ahhh YAY LOPEN!!!

but it. should have been Moash. It was always supposed to be Teft and Moash and Skar and Rock.

And I love Lopen, really, I do. b ut.

I’m also:

~*~GARBAGE~*~

mmmmm ACTUAL FATHER? OR? HMM

I’M WORRIED ABOUT MY ANCIECT GODCHILDREN OKAY? HELP THEM.

OH THANK FUCK

SKAR AND DREHY ARE OKAY

SKAR AND DREHY PROTECT THOSE WHO CANNOT PROTECT THEMSELVES!!!!????

THAT’S!!!! THEY DID THE THING???!!! THEY’VE GOT THE WORDS!!!

LOOK AT MY BOYS GO! LOOK AT THEM ALL!!

TEFT AND LOPEN AND SKAR AND DREHY!!!!

I’M SO PLEASED

oh yeah they saved the kid that’s good

LOOK! AT! MY! BOYS!!!!!

Taravangian might be the ONLY fictional grandpa that I dislike

I always like the grandpas.

but noT THIS ONE

by becoming king of the world and then asking odium to spare everyone he ruled, he was going to save everyone.

Not

actually a bad plan

Not a great one, obviously. but. not a terrible one.

Too bad it was NEVER GOING TO WORK

oh fuck off, he stole the Honorblade, which means Malata probably killed Eth, so GOOD NOW I HAVE A SOLID, CONCRETE REASON TO HATE HER, GOOD.

“Why would [Taravangian] work with the enemy? Everything he’s done so far has been to secure a safe Roshar--if through brutal means. Still, I have to wonder. I can’t afford to be too trusting.” I CAN’T BE TOO TRUSTING, EXCEPT TARAVANGIAN, I’LL DEF TRUST HIM OF COURSE, Dalinar, pLEASE

I’m dying, you gotta. ugh

he’s EVIL COME ON

ppppssssssst

*put Jasnah on the throne*

we need someone who’s good at diplomancy, who can inspire people and command them! GEE WHO’VE WE GOT WHO CAN DO ALL THOSE THINGS AND LOOK SHARP AF DOING IT?

I W ON D E R

oh holy shit, they actually did it

they actually did put Jasnah in charge

holy fuck

YEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSS

EXCELLENT

really moash

the stolen honorblade

HE WHO QUIETS --admittedly a great assassin epithet, but

Mooooooaaaaaaaassshhh

S I G H

okay, so we figured out that Sja-anat is anti-odium, that’s good. but HOW do we know that Renarin bonded one of her spren? just...’cause it’s corrupted and that’s what she does? or did I miss something more specific?

oh huh

cool

OH!, he went to get Elhokar’s baby spren. interesting.

does that make Wit a Radiant? ‘cause I bet that’s not going to go over well heheheheh

WHOOOOOO I’M FREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Defo not my favorite, but it did pick up at the end there. Part 3 was A TRIP that I enjoyed and I’m still pumped that Bridge Four got 1. POVs and 2. SPREN that was really nice. I’m ~*~GARBAGE~*~ and there was some good garbage Moash content, so I loved that. The roadtrip was Sure A Thing. I love my sunshine boy, Adolin Kholin with all my heart. Aaaaand I’ll circle back to Part 4 and the beginning of Part 5 when it’s NOT 4am!

#op #megan reads ob #Oathbringer #Stormlight Archive #PHEEEWWWW #LONG #SOME GOOD STUFF SOME BAD STUFF #tldr: not my fave book but had some Good Things #and now I'm going to bed #phew #god this post is so so long #SORRY MOBILE USERS

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dailyarturia · 7 years

Note

I apologize for bothering you for your objective opinion so much, my king, but once again I need your objective opinion. This time I need your objective opinion on the Berserkers. I'm severely concerned that I have shit taste in Berserkers, and I know that unlike me you are definitely a man of culture.

very large. back from ye olde days where berserkers generally couldn’t actually communicate so unfortunately a bit lacking in complex characterisation compared to others. lovin the whole ‘made to kill his own children in rage which is what qualifies him as berserker in the first place and now gives his all to keep this singular parentless child safe despite supposedly being made into a mindless raging beast’ thing. 8/10

bucket knight. also an old school zerker who can’t talk outside kariya’s fever dreams but he does scream in french sometimes. an overly loyal knight who nonetheless put his own wishes above what he believed were his king’s once and then spent the rest of his life feeling guilty about it to the point where it straight up drove him crazy because he couldn’t understand that arturia has -15 consideration of her own wants. his kink is getting shamed and he would probably get a heart attack if arturia did that hands on her hips disappointed look pose in his general vicinity. 8/10

get OUT of my HOUSE. ugly and horrifying but could totally beat gilgamesh in a fight and the image of ol gregory getting his nuts kicked in by a metal underpants enthusiast is high quality content so he gets points for that. 3/10

this is what we in the scientific community call a daughter. a good girl who just wants to be loved but has severe trust issues after being abandoned by the person who literally created her. can in fact talk but it takes a lot of effort so she doesn’t bother because like, fuck humans right, why should she put in effort to make herself understood when they’re not gonna want to understand her either way. I’m so blessed & grateful that moriarty is her dad now. 9/10

i’ll be honest I still have no idea what his character is supposed to be like its not like he had a lot of screentime in extra and extella is very bad to its side characters. ?/10

the fucking supreme. pandered to like a dozen of my kinks and gave me a few more. my first 5*. the end of my f2p days and the start of my journey to becoming the monster god. the design. the skillset. the teeth. the c l a w s. a king despite hating kings. a machinelike killer despite living for the thrill of the fight. a man who wants to just die already yet obstinately refuses to. a contradictory mess that denounces every ideal he used to live by yet clings to them harder than ever. a monster whose personal arc after being summoned isn’t how he’s still human at heart or whatever but how he was a monster before he looked like one already so like, don’t even worry about it. his mad enhancement is EX(C ) and his material entry revealed that this weird rank is bc it’s not even actual battle rage, he’s just so fucking stubborn it gets classified as mad enhancement. EX/10 the love of my fucking life

the smile of an angel. seems completely rational at first but is still classified as a berserker with EX rank mad enhancement because of her inhuman determination to save as many lives as possible without any regard for the quality of that saved life. she’d amputate all of a person’s limbs in an instant if that’s what it’d take for them to not die. she has canonically beat people to a pulp to ‘cure’ their mental issues. completely dedicated her life to becoming a healing machine at the cost of her own health and even personhood. her profile says she doesn’t actually listen to others but in her myroom lines she takes an active interest in your hobbies and opinions and she also gets flustered when you call her an angel. i literally cannot fucking wait until ch america hits NA server she’s so fucking good and i want everyone to love her. 15/10

THIS IS WHAT A FRIEND LOOKS LIKE. the actual embodiment of “cool guy has a chill day”. a smile that rivals the sun and an attitude that turns even the most ordinary days into a grand adventure. his mad enhancement is basically just that he’s kind of an idiot. 10/10

OX MOM OX MOM OX MOM her mother got knocked up by an ox demon in a dream and had to raise her in secret, and her human father didn’t accept her until she proved to be really strong and even then only as long as she would exterminate anyone who stood in the way of the clan. so scared of being shunned for her demon origins despite being loved & trusted as leader of the minamoto clan that she straight up exorcised her demon self into a separate personality to kill it (& herself with it) and was only barely stopped by the four heavenly kings. nowadays fiercely protective of anyone who knows about & accepts her demonic side to the point of insanity, which is where her EX mad enhancement comes from. a huge crybaby but gets shit done anyway. 10/10

THIS IS ALSO WHAT A FRIEND LOOKS LIKE. someone who was labeled and locked away as something evil due to being what is by all means called a monster even though he’s got a really gentle personality and likes being helpful. really good example of the whole “heroes and villains are nothing more than the roles individual complex people are forced to take on” theme fate likes to play with. has difficulty talking but it’s easy to come to an understanding with him as long as you call him by his personal name asterios rather than the name of the monster minotaur everyone assumed he’d be and he thus inevitably became. 10/10

the only reason he’s a berserker is because his name and the word “berserker” have the same etymology and the grail had no idea what other class to put him. this is the canon reason. he doesn’t have any mad enhancement to speak of beside being a lil hot blooded and liking to fight. literally only here because he likes to throw punches. got his ass beat by li shuwen in ch america because despite loving to throw a punch he’s not actually a martial artist and can’t win from someone with actual technique. a classic ‘jack of all trades master of none’, he literally sucks at being every single class but can’t not be summoned as a heroic spirit because he’s from the oldest english epic poem and a prototype for many other heroes. a free spirited adventurer who takes things as they come but can be responsible when it matters. 9/10

once a good & wise ruler but fell into insanity in the last few years of his rule before finally getting assassinated. loved rome with all his heart for its beauty & splendour but got overwhelmed by the conspiracies and other evils that were also a part of it until the goddess of the moon, who he was in love with, made him insane, which he claims saved him in his bond ce. determined from then on to become the ugliest most evil motherfucker in all of rome so that he could take all the nastiest parts of rome with him in his inevitable death and have his dear cousin nero live in happiness, if only for a while. summoned as a hero despite being very close to an anti-hero because the good ruler he was before going insane responded to a call to save the world and still intent to do his part by simply dragging everything evil down with him. 8/10 wouldn’t it be nice if chapter rome had actually paid attention to roman servants other than nero.

looks like a bratty child but talks like an archaic mob boss. has horns and huge claws. easily bribed with chocolate. has a huge sword but just fucking headbuts her enemies instead. 10/10

many berserkers are angry men but only he is anger man. classified as a berserker not just due to his battlefield conduct but also the insane commitment he had to the laws of the shinsengumi, to the point where he would personally execute former comrades who broke them. both the first and last member of the shinsengumi, a man who dedicated his entire life to upholding its values in a rapidly changing japan. surprisingly rational and during gudaguda 2 okita didn’t even realize he’s a berserker because he didn’t become the fanatic that qualified him to be summoned as one until after okita’s death. one of the coolest skillsets in the game and definitely some of the sickest animations. 10/10

NORMALISE

FINDING

AND KILLING

ACHILLES

10/10

my fuckign girlfriend 10/10

the cutest enabler. 10/10

please god let me meet her. 10/10

when will takeuchi die

#mod post #we rate servants

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seacreek · 5 years

Text

I don't want to write anything where irl friends would see (no one is gonna see this here anyway) but I need to get this out of me.

Liiiikeeeee

I was (am?) literally the most suicidal I've ever been in my life today (is today over if it's 2 am?) and not only can I tell that to NO ONE, but it's like God was fucking rubbing it my face all day. I actually laughed at one point bc I was driving behind someone thinking of whether I should try to do it at home or somewhere else when I noticed their license plate said KYS and then a mashup of my birthday numbers.

But like I've already been feeling this building bc I'm behind on bills and have no heat and it's gonna snow soon and it's the holidays which remind me that my family is all spread out and I don't really talk to my parents anymore and somedays I talk to no one at all but my cat and my life is going NOWHERE with no way to change that but to work myself even harder when I don't even feel like I have anything at all to give anymore.

And I already felt like calling out bc even though I chose to work Thanksgiving yesterday knowing I'd be the only one there, it was still depressing to know that normal people are with friends and family and I'm not. But I also didn't want to take up my neighbors/friends on their offers to join them bc I did that last year and got all the questions about what I was doing with my life and at the time I actually believed I'd be going back to school the next year but now I realize how I can't possibly afford that without accepting help from someone which would BE my neighbors bc my parents would not help and I can't pay for it alone. And I can't accept help from them bc I feel like I would just get overwhelmed and depressed and flunk out and waste their money anyway. And the other reason I couldn't go over there/can't is bc I already feel like such a burden to them. They do all this nice stuff for me all the time and I catch myself even EXPECTING it at times which is fucking disgusting. Even if I'm grateful and say thank you, it's not like they owe me anything just bc I have no one else to give it to me. So I need to stop accepting their help and gifts, but then I know they are judging me for that bc even though their really nice, they are also super judgmental and they really like me bc they think I have "potential", but if they knew that I'm actually just a natural born idiot and failure, they'd never want to talk to me in the first place. And also it's unhealthy probably how much I rely on their validation bc since I've known them since I was little, I'm almost using them as surrogate parents which is also fucked up bc they are not my parents, they have their own kids who actually have their lives together unlike me who is just like a pet project of theirs.

Soooo anyway I already had all this on my mind and more going into work today and when I get there, I look at the schedule and realize everyone called out but me!!!!

And so I had to make a frankenstein schedule out of all of theirs to prioritize what needed to get done and was still trying to do little favors for people in between that I didn't want to disappoint bc it wasn't their fault that their staff wasn't there to do it with them and it was getting super overwhelming. And then I'm super sensitive so when I'd have to tell someone that I COULDN'T do something extra for them that they really were looking forward to, it was already punching me in the gut to see their disappointment. But then the worst part is that they don't fully get that I'm not just choosing to do that out of spite, but I legitimately had negative amounts of time to get everything done so they would blame me for what I couldn't do for them. EVEN THOUGH I WAS WORKING LIKE 4 SCHEDULES IN 1. Like they don't have the capacity to think past what's in front of them sometimes which I understand it's not their fault, but it SUCKS bc then they are pissed at me even though I'm running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to do everything for everyone and keep them all happy and they should really be annoyed with my coworkers who didn't come in but I didn't even throw them under the bus bc it wouldn't have mattered anyway. I'm the person in front of them who is "refusing to do what they ask" so it's my fault.

So that's how my day is going everywhere I go as I rush from person to person and place to place, answering calls, improvising on the spot, and constantly having to tell someone that whatever they had planned on today isn't possible and dealing with the result of that. And the WHOLE TIME I am DAYDREAMING about how I'm gonna kill myself when I get home. Maybe slit my wrists, wait no my leg because I know I'll chicken out on the wrists, wait no, I'll drive out to the ocean and just swim out until I'm drowning too far out to save myself, wait no, what bridges could I jump from let me google that, wait no, I could take all of the pills at home together but then I might throw them up so wait no, maybe I'll drag this out and just not eat or drink til I just die nah that takes too long etc etc etc. And I'm really thinking this is gonna happen tonight bc I already wrote a letter monday or tuesday and I'm sure they'll find that pretty fast when they look in my journals so I don't even have to worry about that part, just the doing. So I'm contemplating my end of life and getting more anxious and sad with every hour passing bc I'm really thinking this is it, this is the day I'm out. But really I keep getting caught up bc my CAT who is sadly the one being on earth that I love who could never understand, is at home. And I'm thinking about how if I kill myself while she's there and it takes time for people to realize I'm missing/find me, she will be sad/hungry/thirsty in the meantime. Which is so unecessary and all of my suicide plans get scrapped if they involve direct trauma of another being and she's the one that means the most, so how could I be so selfish as to not make a plan for her?

So I'm thinking of how I have to sneak her to my sister's place while she's still at work and that's stressful enough but more so bc then I'll have a time limit on getting this done bc as soon as she comes home and sees kaiya there without me and no explanation, she'll start blowing up my phone and when I don't answer, she'll call someone. And I don't want to do that in a pressured state, I need time to process everything and think about life and what I'm doing. Plus, what if I decide not to??? (Which is what ended up happening for tonight anyway) I would've done all that for nothing and then had to confess when she found kaiya anyway and have to go to a psych ward or something which would just ruin my life faster but make it harder to get out.

So I'm thinking ALL this ALL day while working my ass off yet still disappointing everyone and swallowing tears that would turn into sobs every hour until it's time to go home.

Then I drive home and even though I pray to God to send me some sign that he cares, he doesn't.

At this point, I've already lost the fire under me so I know this is another night where I just get through it, cuddle kaiya, and wake up the next day to do it all over and I've accepted that in a way.

Then 1 am rolls around and my sister calls me to say she stopped by a party where she ran into my old best friend and friends from high school. None of whom cared enough about me to even ask what I was up to these days, even though they were talking to my SISTER. And that whole growing apart thing took such a toll on me mentally and I do feel like I'm over it now these days, but it still brought up these gross sad feelings of when I was first realizing that they didn't really care about me anymore and then fully understanding that I didn't matter to them. Which hurt SO MUCH bc they were a ride or die for me, like I would have done anything for them and I never even DOUBTED they didn't feel the same until it was so obvious I had to stop pretending around it. And that fucked with ALL of my relationships with people. Every single friend I had, I started pulling away from bc I was so insecure in myself that I felt like I had to get away from them before they had the chance to drop me which I now felt was inevitable. To this day, I feel like I have a body count of of people that I desperately want to talk to, but don't let myself bc I feel like they don't deserve to have to put up with a person as shitty and worthless as me. And I do that in every possible relationship I have, platonic, romantic, and even familial. And I can't blame them for that bc they were just a normal person growing apart from someone I guess, but I think it triggered something laying dormant in me so badly that it was actually the catalyst for my inability to connect with other people in meaningful ways. I never meet a new person anymore with the belief that they will be in my life for more than a few years at most. Most people I expect to be gone within a week or two. My walls are up so high that it's actually selfish that I even talk to people at all bc I only end up hurting them when I pull away for seemingly no reason at all. And I'm too much of a coward to tell them that there's nothing wrong with them, I just can't get that close to people anymore. Like it actually makes me physically sick to think of carrying on normal relationships with people which is SO fucked. But then I turn into the villain bc I'm worried that they'll develop the same fear of people and I'll be the cause of it. Like I'm a vampire. But I isolate myself and then get to a certain point where I think "I'll try again!! And this time will be different!! I'll really have someone new in my life!" And then I am super friendly and doing my best to be good and making plans and whatever. But then I start getting that sick feeling again, like what if what if they just haven't realized how much I suck and how disappointing I am yet, they'll definitely realize it soon and I come up with some random specific reason why they'd actually hate me if they knew "THIS" about me and I start detaching myself and then flake on plans and then disappear. And then spend weeks worrying myself sick that I permanently damaged their trust in people!!! But then I get lonely again and the pattern starts again!! All traced back to this moment in time where it actually hit me that people's affection for you can disappear in the blink of an eye no matter how much you thought they cared about you. So clearly love is conditional and just that thought alone is enough to make me want to end it all!!

So yea, just a shit day with shit cherries and cream on top.

And now it's 3am and I have to wake up in 5 hrs to do this again.

And all of this is still something no one will know if or until it comes spilling out and then my life will either be changed forever or over.

But yea, drew that lion the other day.

0 notes

pacman-tattoo · 7 years

Note

All odd o:

iM GONNA PUT THIS UNDER A READMORE BC ITS LONG…

1. What is you middle//full name?

i’m not gonna say my full name for privacy purposes, but my first + middle names are Tristen Mackenzie

3. What is your birthday?

May 23rd!

5. What is your favorite color?

aw man like… light pink? dark purple? cerulean blue??? all good.

7. Do you have any pets?

yes!!!! i have a cat and her name is rose and i love her

9. How tall are you?

5′3″-ish? i’m not exactly sure

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

uh… 3 i think? 5 counting both pairs of character shoes though!

13. What talents do you have?

as a lot of ppl who follow this blog, i’m pretty good at writing! other than that, i like to think i’m pretty decent at singing and acting, and i draw a lot. other than that??? idk

15. Favorite song?

i answered this but i’ll just add more: A Soft Place to Land from Waitress

also Teen Idle and Primadonna by Marina and the Diamonds!!

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

alright so like my ideal partner is definitely someone who just loves me for who i am and doesn’t force me to change, y’know? someone supportive who’s kinda ready to take me as i am with all the baggage i have and still loves me in the end but doesn’t take any bullshit? like, they accept i have problems but won’t let said problems excuse my actions. someone who can help me improve on who i am, i guess?

also someone sweet and gentle and just understands, y’know??

idk i haven’t put much thought into a person past that, since i guess all i want is someone who actually gives a shit?

19. Do you want a church wedding?

uh personally i don’t really care even tho it’d probably piss off my family i guess??? like, it could be or it couldn’t be and it probably wouldn’t make too much of a difference for me because imo it’s a wedding either way???? idk man

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

like, me being in the hospital? no. visiting people? yeah

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

uhhh i met a guy off of broadway once he was cool i think his name was andrew or matthew or something and he was in pippin and actually was charlemange the night we saw the show!! i wish i could remember his name because he gave me really good advice about basically sharpening what i wasn’t good at when it came to theatre

25. What color socks are you wearing?

none

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

like… i mean, i wouldn’t be against it? as long as it’s for something i’m proud of, i guess???

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

nnnope

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

i usually lie on my stomach when i sleep!!! idk why it’s been kind of a recent thing??? like i use to sleep on my left side for years and over the last year or two i’ve started sleeping on my stomach for whatever reason

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

i usually don’t wake up early enough to actually eat breakfast but i like to make scrambled eggs and toast!! because effort

35. Have you ever tried archery?

no but i want to :’O

37. Favorite swear word?

eh, probably just ‘fuck’ because i’m not creative

39. Do you have any scars?

i have a reaaaaaaally faint scar going up my leg from when i did something stupid and was scratched by a wire!!!

41. Are you a good liar?

depends on the lie and who i’m telling said lie to, honestly.

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

uh i can kinda do a russian accent like Stereotypical Russian and i can do a southern accent (which works because i’m from the south but i have no accent i swear), and i can do a kinda posh accent??? idk man i should sit around and just attempt accents one day.

i’m good at mimicking mercy from overwatch sometimes tho but only when i’m playing her because it’s more of me just sitting there echoing whatever she says i guess

45. What is your favorite accent?

idk my russian accent is at least fun to sit around and say shit in

also just??? idk what you would call it other than Stuck Up White Girl but that’s also kinda fun because i literally will sit around and say stupid shit

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

that’s honestly a good question and i couldn’t tell you because i barely remember anything like lemme check amazon because i have this dress??? that was probably expensive

it actually wasn’t too expensive it was only 35-ish dollars??? idk then i tend to not buy expensive clothes

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

innie

51. Are you scared of spiders?

hhholy fck yeah i nearly panicked yesterday when there was a spider in my car like i was almost gone but my brother got it

53. Favorite foreign food?

honestly that’s hard but i??? fukn???? love??? chicken enchiladas????

also does fondue count bc it’s from switzerland and i love fondue like cheese??? good. chocolate??? heaven.

55. Most used phrased?

probably like “idk man” because i just Don’t Know

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

depends!!! sometimes it can be around 30-40, sometimes an hour, sometimes i’ll be ready in 10 minutes i don’t do makeup and throw on something decent

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

i tend to mostly suck???? that doesn’t sound sexual i swear why does everything have to sound sexual jfc

61. Do you sing to yourself?

i think we all know the answer to this one. it’s a definite yes and anyone who thinks otherwise doesn’t know me tbh

63. Biggest Fear?

dying young, i guess? it’s something that kinda haunts me still and idk of anything that’d be a bigger fear than that for me rn

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

idk i rarely watch movies????

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

i mean i’d probably leave a few out but i can

i took a thing and i got like, 35-36 out of the 50 so that’s good i guess

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

def an introvert

71. What makes you nervous?

what doesn’t make me nervous tho

uh i guess just??? driving in silence makes me nervous

honestly any silence makes me nervous because i need at least some sort of constant noise??? tests are hell, man.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

depends on the mistake??? i tend to but if it’s just something really minor i won’t bother the person.

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

nah i dont think so. if i have then??? whoops. i know a guy who started (or at least tried to?) rumors about himself tho it was weird

77. Have you ever drank underage?

not rly??? i’ve had sips of stuff but that was usually with my parents and it wasn’t enough to make me feel anything. altho next time my friend and i hang out without her parents there i might drink a little, just to be able to say ‘i did the thing’ since i kinda wanna do teenage shit while i still can i guess?????

79. Who was your first real crush?

guy i knew/know (we’re kinda friends??? like we talk but we don’t make extra effort to do so imo???) named jacob!!! he let me down gently because he was also the first person i confessed to, and altho i kinda regret it, i still had that rejection so at least i don’t have to deal with that shit with someone else being “that first rejection” or w/e

81. Can you roll your Rs?

aaaa sadly no i wish i could tho!!!

83. How fast can you run?

i don’t think i’m fast but i think i’m fast enough

85. What color is your eyes?

blue!

87. Do you keep a journal?

i kinda used to??? i stopped writing in it for a while… 89. Do you like your age?

ehh kinda??? like…? i’m still technically a “““teenager”““ (even tho i technically count until i’m 20 but legally i’m an adult at 18) but it kinda sucks because being 17 is lowkey kinda stressful because woah ur a senior in high school time for u to be forced into thinking you need to choose a good college that will get u a degree for a job you’ll always be in for the rest of ur life and just the fact i’m kinda inexperienced in shit??? i just wanna be smooched before i turn 18 man

91. Do you like your own name?

i mean??? i don’t like ‘tristen’ but i do like ‘tris’! which is why i go by it online and i try to get ppl to call me it. there was someone i know who was like “no one even calls you that” when i said something about being called “tris” to someone and i’m like… that’s because i never said anything about it before…??? no one calls me tris because i never really went by it before….???

but anyway “tristen” is fine but i will always prefer to be called “tris”

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

i’m gonna say i’d love to have a girl but honestly? i don’t really care? if i have a child or if i have children, i just want them to be happy and healthy and feel they can trust me with anything - or at least almost anything, since i never really had that person growing up.

95. What are your weaknesses?

uh i’m not the strongest person when it comes to physical activities but that’s also because i’m a dumb egg who sucks when it comes to shit like dancing because i kinda throw myself down a hole when other ppl get things and i don’t and i get really self deprecating over shit

also self deprecation by itself is a pretty big weakness.

other than that, i’m kinda messy?? like my room itself is a mess and there’s clothes on the floor and i really just need to take a day and clean up

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

not that i know of

99. Color of your bedspread?

uh its too hot for one rn but i have a white one that my grandma bought for me and i use it when its cold af outside

i want this galaxy one that i found tho….

(I SPENT AN HOUR ANSWERING THIS BUT IT WAS FUN OMG…)

#bean answers things #ask meme #thanks nonny!!!#anonymous

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sportingsims · 7 years

Note

because i'm extra i ask all the aesthetic asks lmaooo good luCK

I’M SO GONNA KILL YAAA >:)

[Aesthetic questions under the cut cuz ya know, ma lovely friend asked them all and I dont wanna spam your dash with all my crap]

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?

right now xD last theater by noicell btw

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

hmm if I’m going to be healthy forever? xD

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

I want to become a biologist/ethologist

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

SUM41 CONCERT ayyy

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

yes! right now I’m doing, literally, nothing so I’d change many things - starting by going back to college

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

kind of..

1- interrail around the europe or world traveling

2- become ethologist

3- make you suffer for making me answer all of these >:) (jk xD)

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.

my bestfriend. well she’s just like me? we’re actually similar, but she has curly hair and I have straight hair xD we like the same things. she loves pizza, cheese & coffee okay she lives for that. If you just met her..you would just think: why isn’t this noob at a house for crazy people? she’s awesome :)

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?

I did :)

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?

probably not so long ago..probably in front of my mum

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

it depends maybe yes, maybe not. If I feel I can trust that stranger, I’d probably open myself

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

it was on my bestfriends bday and they were my beloved 3 bestfriends, which I truly hate from the deepest part of my stoned heart

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

I can’t choose ONE person. I’d gather my family and close friends in a family reunion and say how much I appreciated all they did for me while I was between them and that I’ll be them ;)

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes?

I LIKE BROWN EYES!

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.

“I’ve tried so hard and got so far but in the end it doesn’t even matter”

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

how to be a proper drama queen XD

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?

travel around the world with ma dudes and family & help my family in money needs or people I saw that really needed and ofc keep some for me for concerts and college xD

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

yes I am, and yes I do

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.

RUTE DON’T WORRY SO MUCH ABOUT SCHOOL AND GET OVER YOUR VOMIT PHOBIA IT WILL RUIN YOUR COLLEGE!

pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

punk

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.

I love both piercings and tattoos. I don’t feel like they show the inside of a person and that people should be considered less bc they have them. I HATE when someone doesn’t get a job or is side looked bc they’re tattooed or have piercings..I mean wtf??

I’m waiting for the day I have courage to make a tattoo tbh (I’m a chicken, like my brother says..)

piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

nope. dunno? I just don’t like & too much work?

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.

Linkin Park .. all of their songs.. just read them, you’ll understand

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.

LET’S DRINK COFFEE & WATCH HARRY POTTER TOGETHER

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.

by order: Scorpions, Bon Jovi, Limp Bizkit, The Offspring, Linkin Park, The Smashing Pumpkins, Queens of the stone age, Linkin Park again, AC/DC, Iron Maiden, SUM41.. and I’m going to Guns n Roses

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

that’s a secret xx

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

oh yes very organized xD

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine?

music & sleep listening to music

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

soo many things

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

I’d like to dye it white or black? or dark red? omg dont know

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

i’d pick my bestfriends (3) + 2 close friends and maybe we could go into an interrail

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.

get over my phobia: bc it means I’m better and I’m able to control myself and live alone without being stuck with this stupid problem that haunts me :)

finish my biology course: bc duhh I wanna be a biologist!

be happy!: who doesn’t want to be happy?

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.

me as a ghost - I was sooo beautiful :)

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

I was never drunk or high

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

murder

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?

listen to one song, bc I cant pick ONE person

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.

yes - I am in love right now. and I’m not describing it bc I hate talking about feelings, but let say it sucks, particularly when the other part doesn’t feel the same as you.

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

if I were a boy.. well I dont know? maybe If I was a emo/punk boy or if I just wanted to

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

just ya know the normal americano.. no one! my friends would trick me

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

my health :)

YOU KNOW I TOOK LOTS OF TIME DOING THIS?!!! obrigada anywayyy

#camisims #replies #Q&A #aesthetic asks

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highgaarden · 8 years

Note

ok so bc I'm all like DON'T GIVE UP THE SUPERPOWERS wrt Caro rn I thought why not request a canon-compliant superhero non-AU for Caro where somewhere down the line she decides to ~use her powers for good~ and do the vigilante thing, mask and everything (no stupid impractical costume tho). Extra points if she and Bonnie form a whole Witch/Vampire superhero team. Klaus can read abt it in the paper and figure out it's Caro+Bonnie and be amused and be into it. ♥♥♥

i tried my best. also, i have no clue what’s going on in the originals, but from scraps i get an a very helpful explanation from my friend anne, i sort of got the gist of it, tried to work more of the plot into this, and then decided to just… not. much apologies, please be kind to my v. confused self should you decide to leave a review.

12:51;

or: a superheroes origin story in five parts.

Klaus/Caroline, Bonnie/Damon | wc. 3705 | ch. 1/5

read on: AO3 / ff.net

—

PartOne

InWhich Everybody’s Week Must Have Been Pretty Rough

—

The weekend after Klaus escaped from his wall, he sat down in his studywith three bottles of liquor and double that amount of fresh blood, a steakcooked medium rare, and five years’ worth of newspapers to catch up with theworld.

Freya regarded him curiously. “You could have done away with the mess.We just ordered those new tablets.”

Rebekah was much ruder about the piles he left. She was probably stillmad she had had to miss four seasons of Supernaturalin order to save his skin.

Klaus didn’t answer them. He continued skimming the pages with aprevailing interest, rubbing ink and paper between his fingers. He soon foundthat he hadn’t missed much in his Marcel-imposed exile; that the mundanities oflife had persevered through the years.

His thoughts started to wonder when he was three-years deep into hiscatching up. Nothing caught his eye, and he was starting to feel the gratitudeof being able to sit in a comfortable armchair as opposed to being shackled toa floor dusted with rubble chip away.

Until he saw it.

He read the little opinion piece, then read it again, and a third timefor good measure.

And then he called Damon Salvatore.

—

At that point, not even Damon knew of their little hijinks despite havingmoved himself into their apartment. He used the pretence of “keeping an eye onthem” to make it past the front door. The living room became his sanctum santorum, and the couch he tookrefuge in constantly smelled like booze and Doritos.

Caroline was not happy with this arrangement, and made sure to be veryvocal about it every chance she got.

Sometimes it ranged from loud, to shrill, towake-your-neighbours-up-at-3am-because-Damon-you-fuck-you-left-your-underwear-in-my-laundry-basket piercing.

Tonight, Damon had the apartment to himself, and was glad for the peaceand quiet. Caroline was out on a date, and Bonnie was at the library borrowinga book. She was always at the library borrowing books, and he liked tellingpeople how bookish she was in a tone that was both patronizing and fond. It hadtaken some time, but he had finally perfected it.

In the middle of his Grey’sAnatomy rerun (“Denny? You chosea dying sack of meat over Alex? Really,Izzie?” he yelled at the tv), his phone rang.

It was Klaus. He hadn’t heard from the fucker in more than a decade, andwas immediately suspicious.

“City Morgue,” he answered cautiously.

“Just to be clear, you’re still second best,” came the familiar gout ofKlaus’s voice. “I only called you because Stefan’s number seems to not beworking, mate.”

“That’s ‘cause it’s not,” Damon said. “How do you still have mine?”

“If I wanted idle chit chat I would’ve resurrected Finn again.”

Damon muted the tv and got to his feet. “And yet here you are, makingidle chit chat.”

“I merely called to enquire about Caroline and Bonnie’s wellbeing.”

“They’re fine,” Damon said shortly.

“You best make sure they’re getting adequate rest for all thecrime-fighting they’re doing,” Klaus said, and killed the line.

Damon spat out his bourbon.

That’s how it all started, really.

—

Caroline was having a crummy night. The sole of her shoe had torn awayas she was chasing her assailant across the rooftops of Midtown, and it nowflapped with every step she took, and slowed her down considerably.

“I’m gonna get you, Raul!” she yelled, to make up for how she was losinghim, fast. “Your album sucked!”

Raul the Eurovision Vampire came to a screeching halt. He was screechingquite literally, because of all the insults Caroline had hurled at him in thepast week of stalking him, this one hurt the most.

“And your win last year?” Caroline continued as she hauled herself overa crumbling ledge. “Total pandering.”

Raul hissed and bared his fangs. “You know nothing of talent, sillygirl. If you did you wouldn’t be spending your nights in cowardice, hiding yourface with a gaudy mask. A poor man’s Catwoman.”

Caroline bristled, because it had taken her and Bonnie splurging on asewing course in Uptown to get their stitching just right.

“And you would’ve gotten more than a deal sponsoring mattresses afteryou won Eurovision,” she retorted, and Raul actually looked pained.

Actual, legit pain.

Caroline sighed. “Look, I’ll cut you a deal. See this stake here? Iwon’t stick it in your heart if you meet my conditions.”

Raul warily eyed the stake she was twirling between her fingers.Normally he would have told her to kiss his ass, but he was cornered, and hedidn’t fancy becoming a splat on the sidewalk.

That, and he was afraid of heights.

“And the conditions are?” he asked finally.

Caroline took a moment to rip the failing sole completely off her shoe.It came off with one clean pull, and when she looked up Raul was still there,which meant there was still hope for a redemption arc for him.

She gave him a winsome smile. “Do you have a pen?”

—

Bonnie slid in through her bedroom window, heady with glory. She hadgotten better at sneaking in and out at odd hours, but evidently not by much,since she managed to wake Damon up.

This was because he was in her bed when she threw herself on it.

“Damon, what the hell?”

Damon awoke with a snort. “A-ha! Proofof your foolhardy life choices!”

Bonnie rolled her eyes and unhooked her cape. She made a mental note to passCaroline twenty dollars. “Took you long enough to realize.”

“I am living with hoodwinks.”Damon pouted. “How could you not have let me in on this secret?”

“Damon, you helped me with laundry last week. You literally foldedpieces of my costume. It had my alter ego name on stitched across the front.”She swung her feet and walked to the paper partition by her dresser, where shewiggled out of her outfit safe from Damon’s prying eyes into a worn Whitmoresweater and blue shorts with lightning patterns on them.

“Are those anti-aging potions you’re brewing finally screwin’ with yourhead?” Damon was still on a roll. “You know how I had to find out? Klaus!”

“Klaus is alive?” Bonnie asked.

“Yes, and even in his state of barely living he ousted you and BlondeDistraction’s sly night crime-kicking.”

Bonnie started to respond, but then got sidetracked. “Blonde Distraction?”

“Uh – yeah.” He fiddled with his phone. “Blonde Distraction and FeistyFire.”

“That is fucking terrible,” Bonnie said mildly. “And not even ournames.”

“That’s what I call you in my blog, which I only update when I’m drunk. I’vebeen following you for years. Checkout the threads!” Damon waved his phone in her face.

“Are you drunk right now?” she asked.

“Yes,” Damon said sulkily, “but only half-stupid. You were never at thelibrary, were you?”

“Well, you were really sweet about it—”

“And you kept missing all those scrabble/pizza nights!” Damon howledinto his hands, betrayal gutting him like a fish.

“Damon,” Bonnie narrowed her eyes. “I’m tired. “The next time you spendthe night in my bed, I’m burning your brains out.”

“Reduced to being treated as one of your petty criminals,” Damonsniffed. “So be it. Our friendship always had an expiry date, huh?”

Damon slinked out of her room. Bonnie considered calling after him, butfigured she’d reason in the morning. For now, she had a huge bruise in her sideto nurse, and sleep was calling.

—

It started with scaring off new vampires from innocent clubgoers, andthen keeping the pasty creep-o’s who lived in the apartment adjacent to theirsin line when bodies started piling up in their shared dumpster.

Caroline hadn’t blown all her cash for an apartment in New York just forit to be crawling with the diseased, depravity and blood, so she took it uponherself to clean it up. An act of charity, if you will.

At night, she donned a mask and put on sensible boots. No stupidimpractical spandex for her, nor did she for a minute entertain midriff-baringleather, no matter how hot she might have looked.

Sipping from her thermos of warmed AB, she kneeled by stone gargoylesand prowled through the night. Afterwards she would either jump from rooftop torooftop, or practice her parkour, feeling invincible and (not gonna lie) reallyfucking cool.

At around 1am she got the read from Bonnie (in other words, Bonnietexted her in their coded-emoji) that their target for the night had arrived.

From five stories above she followed the sound of his footsteps throughthe alleyway, waiting to catch a heartbeat. When none came, she knew that hewas the one. His steps faltered when he heard a noise behind him. Caroline tookthe opportunity to jump down on him.

“Hello,” she smiled sweetly, when he was thrashing and spittingunderneath her. She was sitting on his back, which couldn’t be comfortable.

“Killing. Maiming. Money-laundering.” Bonnie came slowly from the mouthof the alleyway, her cape flowing behind her. “That last one’s kind of random,but the other shit we have on you—yikes.”

Caroline gathered his hair in her gloved hands and yanked hard. Thevampire cried out, enraged, but didn’t look away from her piercing gaze.

“You’ve got a locker full of civilians waiting like lambs forslaughter,” she said slowly, so he might not miss the threat in her voice.“Tell us where they are and you get to live.”

“I’m gonna have to call your bluff,” he rasped. “I’ve cut a pretty gooddeal, and ain’t no stinkin’ blonde and her twitchy sidekick are gonna stop me.”

Bonnie’s face darkened.

“Oooh,” Caroline whistled. “Bad choice of words there, bud. She’s not mysidekick. We’re partners. I kick ass, she takes names. Sometimes I take names,and she kicks ass. Though ‘kick’ might not be the right verb here…”

“I prefer not having to touch you scum,” Bonnie said, and from herfingers erupted flames.

Caroline smiled, eyes shining brightly in the fear that Bonnie hadincited into the now-still vampire.

“What are vampires most afraid of?” Caroline whispered into his fear.

“Werewolf venom.”

Caroline clicks her tongue. “No, the other thing.”

The vampire, cold sweat on his forehead, hesitated. ‘Uh—stakes?”

Caroline knuckled the base of his skull. “Fire, you moron. She’s waving it right in your face!”

It didn’t help that he passed out immediately.

Bonnie sighed and dropped her hands. The alley dimmed once again. “Canwe talk about this whole intimidation tactic thing?”

Caroline refused to look her in the eye.

—

It took about twenty minutes for him to come to, by which time Carolinehad gotten bored of sitting on his back and had decided to chain him to thedumpster instead.

After they heckled and tortured the information out of him, Carolinepulled out the usual contract – stating that no further harm would come to himfrom their hands if he got the hell out of the city and signed along the dottedline – when he started monologueing and posturing in a way that was really, really familiar.

Caroline pulled the pen away from his trembling grasp for it. Shesquinted in the dark alley, trying to make out his eyes.

“Caroline?” Bonnie asked, but Caroline barely heard.

The vampire was still monologueing, and Caroline felt a rising anger.She knew a compelled gaze anywhere.

“Damn it, Bon.”

Her fist swung out of her own accord, knocking the vampire out cold.There was a satisfying crack accompanying the slump of his neck, and Carolinedusted her hands off.

Bonnie eyed his body with distaste. “Harsh, Care. Don’t you usually waitfor them to sign the contract first?”

—

True to his word, Damon had indeed started a blog following the accountsof Blonde Distraction and Feisty Fire (not their actual names, but given thefact that he only ever blogged when he was drunk, he never bothered to learntheir real names) and their vigilante crime-fighting on his blog, WatchOutVillainz.com.

It was a smorgasbord of garish colour, Comic Sans, and badly-wordedheadings.

Klaus would never admit it, but he loved reading it.

He followed it with the same tenacity Caroline had for new episodes ofThe Bachelor, and one night even set up a username for himself to partake inthe lengthy discussions over who Blonde Distraction and Feisty Fire might be.

His username was entirely anonymous, and he enjoyed having a persona toparade as he took down trolls and ventured the tags, verbally maiming anyoneand everyone who dared speak ill of Blonde Distraction or Feisty Fire.

Granted, he didn’t care much for the witch, but thought that Carolinewould like it if he were to stand up for her too, so he did.

Damon showed up at his hotel room one night sullen-faced. “Get off mywebsite.”

“Make me,” Klaus said, typing progressively faster on his keyboard.

Damon failed to make him, and returned home, turning all his loyalfollowers on one hybrid_master_127. Unfortunately, Klaus seemed to have accrueda cluster of minions of his own in his short time of perusingWatchOutVillainz.com, and they threatened to hack into the mainframe of one ofhis life’s most precious work.

Damon, having limited knowledge of IT, highly doubted the existence of amainframe and whether or not it could be hacked.

In the end decided to play it safe, and Klaus stayed.

—

The way Caroline figured out it was Klaus who had been sending thugvamps her way was almost as fast as him discovering their true identities asthe Vigilantes of the Manhattan Bridge Overpass.

A week after Damon had almost thrashed his hotel room, Klaus opens thedoor to his magnificently ransacked quarters. Caroline was sitting on whatappeared to be the cracked granite of his bathtub, in his living room, with herlegs crossed. She was still in her mask and boots.

“What is wrong with you?” sheyelled. “Why can’t you pick up the phone and call like a normal person?”

“That would have ruined the fun,” Klaus replied. “Besides, would youhave answered?”

Caroline hesitated.

“I thought so.”

“You never answered any of mycalls.”

“I was chained up in a wall, love.”

Caroline considered this. “Hm.”

Klaus picked his way towards her, straightening lamps as he went. Minutegoosefeathers floated about his shoulders; the pillows had all been spearedonto the ceiling fan like kebabs. “It was all too easy to suss out it was you.”

Caroline refused to bite. Instead, she stayed silent, watching him comecloser and closer.

“You offered them redemption instead of gutting them alive, in documentform to boot.” Klaus sounded reproachful and he righted an upset table to hidehis exasperation. “Furthermore, Bonnie made no secret of her pyromanicabilities. She was always very artful with that certain power of hers.”

“You compelled yourself a massacre just to draw me out,” she hissed. “Ihappen to take my craft very seriously—”

“I know, love. I’m not laughing.” And indeed he wasn’t. In fact, he sortof admired the spirit in which she undertook her task. In all honesty, he believedthis to be a phase—it took him a while to process the fact that she’d chosen tospend her eternity (or at least, a significant early part of it) doing this.

“So why are you here?” Caroline asked.

“Because.” He paused. Why was hehere? Papa Tunde’s torment had left him withered and raw; Hayley and Freya hadgone to the ends of the earth to release him and when he’d woken up Hope waswell in her teen years. Despite the world staying to same, too much of what hecared about had changed. He needed—he needed to make sure, needed to see forhimself, how she was.

Perhaps she was right. A phone call would have worked better.

“I wanted to offer my services,” is what he decided on at last.

Caroline snorted so loud he thought it was a piece of his ceiling fallingon them.

—

“I know all the criminals in this city,” he insisted, dogging her downthe street. Caroline walked remarkably fast in the night. She had left her maskin the debris of his room, stating she had ‘plenty more’.

“I’d rather go to vampire jail,” she told him sedately.

“Ah, that rather poorly masked vampire rehab you set up,” he said,falling into step with her. “The Elizabeth-Bill Institute for the MorallyBankrupt. I was just short of amused as to what an easy target you madeyourself.”

“And yet the only person who managed to figure it all out was you,” shesaid.

“Well—Kol did, too. We were playing crime-bingo with your exploits.”Klaus grinned. “I was one money-launder away from a win, so I decided to pullthings to my favour.”

“I’ll wall you in myself,” she seethed.

“Oh, where will you possibly find the time in between all thiscrime-fighting?”

Caroline whipped around, fangs bared. “Leave me alone, Klaus.”

“How are the twins?” he asked gently.

“None of your business.”

“They should be around Hope’s age, shouldn’t they?”

“Stop talking about them.”

Caroline took a detour through an alleyway, and with more agility thanKlaus expected, climbed her way up the side of a building, all to get away fromhim.

Klaus weighed his options, then hefted himself up after her.

He found her sitting on a rooftop edge, the city pulsating beneath them.He sat down beside her and was surprised when she offered him a thermos ofblood. It was still warm.

“Where were you keeping that?” he asked admiringly, studying her outfit.

She sent him a look that could kill, and went back to countingheadlights. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she said quietly, after a while.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. He cleared his throat and glanced ather. “When did it start?”

Caroline shuts her eyes. “A few years ago. Josie and Lizzie were growingup pretty fast. Alaric—he, well. Didn’t want me to have…” she gestured vaguely,“words were exchanged. I decided that if I could do my part to help in anyother way, I’d do it.”

“You’ll soon be bored with the futility of it, I imagine.”

“I’ve got an end goal in mind,” she said absently.

After a fashion he realized she had stopped counting headlights and wasfocused on a window in the building across the cobweb of streets. Two girls,remarkably alike, were pulling the curtains closed for the night.

“They’re nocturnal creatures,” he said softly. “If I could venture a guess,just like their mother.”

Caroline didn’t answer. Instead, she rested her head on his shoulder. Hestiffened in surprise, but she didn’t comment on it, neither did she move away.“Next time, just call. You can’t base my reactions on the girl you knew tenyears ago.”

“Some things will always remain singular,” he said. He wasn’t speakingabout her. She hoped she saw it in the look he was giving her.

Caroline pulled away slowly. For a long time, she only looked at him.Klaus took a chance and reached for her hand, after which she tangled herfingers in his. They stayed that way for only a short moment, but the feelingof her palm, soft in his, lingered long after she’d slid her thermos back intoits hiding place on her body and left.

—

Damon had taken to fixing them breakfast in the wee hours of the morningwhen they finally returned. He reasoned that it was the least he could do, whatwith all the slander he keeps slinging their way on his website.

“To blindside the scrutinizing eyes of the public!” he insisted,flipping pancakes.

However, when Caroline returned home with an extra guest, his spatulafell onto the island with a smack.

“I refuse to feed him,” he told Bonnie. So offended was he that Carolinehad brought Klaus home that he refused to speak to Caroline too. Looking rightthrough them, he pointed out, “And I only made pancakes for three.”

Damon gestured angrily at the table, where three immaculate plates piledhigh with pancakes and cream had been set.

Klaus scowled. “But there’s four more, burning, by the way, on theskillet.” He tried not to sound too indignant.

“You kidding me? These are all for Bonnie!”

As the two immortal beings squabbled, Caroline speared a triangle ofpancake with her fork. Bonnie sipped her glass of orange juice. It felt strangefor the apartment to be so full, especially with the presence of Damon’s entireliquor cabinet dotting every corner.

Klaus finally wrestled himself a seat next to Caroline, but not beforeflicking off Damon’s shirt that had been slung over the back of the chair with dispassion.

“That’s it! I’m done! You can make breakfast yourselves from now on!” Damon yanked off his apron and was gonewith a huff.

“Does this happen a lot?” Klaus enquired, sniffing around a piece ofbacon.

“More times than you can imagine,” Bonnie said.

—

In the coming days, Klaus visited more often. His hotel room had beenproperly demolished, he took to reminding Caroline, who sighed and held out atowel for him to use her shower.

Bonnie delighted in the fact that she now has leverage against having abroody roommate/parasite, seeing as Caroline had one of her own now, too.

Damon continued to be miserable.

Klaus continued to goad them with his offer.

Caroline and Bonnie continued their crime-fighting.

“Let’s not make this routine,” Bonnie told Caroline as she garrotted avampire who had been hell-bent on chowing down on a family of four. “By nextweek we kick them out.”

“You got it, Bon,” Caroline said, waving the contract in the chokingvampire’s face. “We’re burning the couch. And can we finally talk about that cape of yours?”

Bonnie rolled her eyes, but nodded her agreement as the vampire veryreluctantly signed her name along the dotted line.

—

tbc

9B��`

#klaroline #bamon #klaroline fanfiction #bamon fanfiction #ishenwulf #lol HOW DO I EVEN GO ABOUT TAGGING THIS SHIT #hannah writes things #askbox request #fic: 1251 #otp: speak my name when you damn me #otp: yellow ledbetter #this was fun to write and i actually had heaps more buuut i figured i'd save them for upcoming chapters #here you go ishi YOU ASKED FOR IT #tvd

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