#wish i could put more people on here but its almost 5am and there's no universe where i get everyone on here anyway

[amanedachi]

phosphorus / loud and clear

Part of LoL Esports Elemental Series.

[spinaroos-47]

So, time for the review and analysis of my prediction! Oh boy this will be long i havemore than  two pages on google docs of commentary and reaction

“ Any sport a storm: Willow will be a fucking badass, cant wait to see her shine with her new hairstyle. My dear beloved. Also i cant wait to see what sport is it that she joins, but its probably more complicated than grudgby. Im not sure if the shot of her and her team with the abomination is from this episode or not. 

Hunter will be on Hexside. Idk what could be his mission but i cannot wait for the stupid shenanigans. This episode probably will be really funny. Hopefully Flapjack and Hunter will have cute interactions “

I basically got everything right skfdjsfdj it was a little vague but yknow, i still got it

This really was a really fun episode, and such a rollercoaster of emotions, this is the third episode that made me tear up (and this one was more than one time!). So it goes together with AOAW and echoes of the past on that

This is going to be long so im putting it under a readmore and actually splitting this into two posts because of how many thoughts I have, maybe even three (one will be about lumity c plot to not derail the rest)

Also fun-not-so-fun fact, i ended up waking up at 5am on point becausei was so anxious for this episode, so im running on four hours of not so well rested sleep jsdjsdj. It’s been kinda of a problem honestly, I’ve been getting ridiculously anxious every friday and saturday until i watch the episode 

First of all, I never knew how much I needed Hunter and Willow being friends, this has warmed my heart so much i can’t put it into words (im also dreading the influx of huntlow, my poor romance repulsed heart)

(also someone already pointed this out but i think he’s starting to follow Amity’s advice from eclipse lake!)

I do wish there were more interactions between Hunter and Flapjack, but still, the ones we got were so cute and nice :3

God i missed him so much, the start of the episode was both sweet and so sad. He likes arts and crafts! He was fixing his own cloak! (which is curious since both at the end of hunting palismen and start of eclipse lake he had a pristine cloak. Like, what happened? Also felt like what happens on some of the fanfics I read. That and Hunter receiving a letter from him on his room, which is an interesting coincidence) He’s not the greatest yet but he’s trying! (and his >:3 face)

I don’t like how Belos is now doing tests for Kiki and I supposed the other coven heads too, or at least just Hunter. Nasty fucker, he’s so well written, the scaryness of his character kinda got really highlighted here, on an episode he didn’t even appear, just mentioned. He has such a grip on people, the way he gets people back into the place he wants them to be if they seem to be going out of line, it’s really well written. And very nice to see how even with all this, there’s still some things that slip through the cracks, like what’s been slowly happening to Hunter

Him trying to meet with the coven heads was a very interesting brief moment. It was heartbreaking to see how most of them don’t seem to care or even respect him, almost trampling him. ALSO RAINE LOOKING BACK AT HIM AND HUNTER LOOKING SO SAD AFTER THEY DO THAT. I’M MANIFESTING THEM INTERACTING IN THE SHOW ONE DAY. And they actually seem to be almost the same height, Hunter being a little taller than them (but it’sprobably the heels)

Darius was really good on this episode, which I’ll elaborate more later but like, how he changed his behaviour in the end of the episode? It was really sweet! Makes me think he will actually later on together with Eber and possibly Raine do something against the ec/Belos, like some people have been theorizing, which I’m so down for. It’s interesting how he called Hunter “little prince”, I do kinda like that dfsnjfdjndjn. And it doesn’t seem to really be a secret that he’s Belos’ nephew, just maybe not to most of the public. (another reason for distaste also since it’s nepotism)

This golden guard lore we got really got me thinking. So there were other golden guards, at least one or two before Hunter, and their sigil is the symbol of Gravesfield. This is so interesting but I don’t have many concrete thoughts, I just don’t think (or more accurately, I don’t want to be true) that the other GGs were grimwalkers too. Also I’m pretty engaged on this mentorship stuff going on the emperor’ coven for some reason. 

(Also also, I do love how many fandom ideas and theories have been confirmed or debunked recently)

Darius also knows that Hunter is powerless, which is another thing that I’m curious about to how much do the others know about this?

The intro was cut short in an...interesting way, i’ll say that.

WILLOW HAS THE GROM PHOTO TOO I LOVE HOW EVERYONE HAS THE GROM PHOTOS THEY LOVE EACHOTHER SO MUCH

I really really really loved seeing Willow start to be more confident and try to find herself and have fun! (and kinda inspired by her dads by what some pointed out which is SO SWEET) This was a much needed episode for Willow, my dear girl.

I actually lost count of how many times i went “OH MY GOD HUNTER” and “HUNTER NO STOP”, for both second hand embarassement and also just worrying for him. Which is fun sjfksdjkjd. I love him but he can be a big brat/jerk/ass sometimes which is also why I love him. And he was really funny on this episode, he is a really funny character 

(Case in point, a bit of my live commentary: OH MY GOD HUNTER; oh my god hunter; this will not end well; NOOOOOO; i cant watch it; flapjack knock some sense into; him youre such a dweebus)

He actually met all the three of the detention trio! (mostly viney and not much of the other two but still) This was very nice as me and a friend on our put-in-hiatus Hunter Clawthorne au made him become friends with them there. I did really miss Viney, she was great here, together with Skara and Gus, my deario cheerios (Which, let me just say, loved Gus being so protective of Willow, because, yeah it hasn’t been an easy year for her, even with Luz hel

(Can we talk about Bump in the photo the abomination teacher showed?)

AND THAT WAS HIS SOCK! HE HAS FUN SOCKS! This makes me so happy

I was thinking Caleb could be the brother’s name, and it still can be but the Jasper Bloodwilliams addition made me rethink that (and!! one of the names has william on it. So everything goes now I guess)

And I’m glad my drawings of him using his staff more like a skate were proven right! And the animation there was really cool (Also Gus flying his staff in a different way just supports even more my hc that everyone in the main cast is nd. Since, yknow, different way of doing things)

He reexamined his biases also! Which was soooo nice, love me the character growth.

THE HALF A WITCH PARALELS THE TWO HAVE, THIS BOY CAN FIT SO MANY PARALELS ITS INSANE AND I LOVE IT. And I love how it was a slow realization for Hunter that she feels the same and struggles with her confidence and self esteem too

Sidenote, the friends to enemies drama with Viney and Jerbo was so funny nfdjsjdfsjnfdsnj (and also why was there a baby on the professor’s team?)

Yeah i think I’ll split this into three posts because I have so much to say sfdhjdsjjdsf

[defcravings]

show me -  | im changkyun

wc: 4.4k

genre: suggestive with sexual mentions

synopsis: y/n is a makeup artist on changkyun’s ‘god damn’ MV shoot, when the rapper takes a sudden liking to her; she becomes more involved in the shoot than she anticipated. 

pairing: changkyun x reader

5am was not the ideal start time for y/n, especially in the cold and with no coffee. In hand carrying 5 alarmingly large cases of makeup and costume through the staff entrance of the set for the shoot; silently assuring yourself that you ‘would get coffee or so help her god.’ Being the first one here you flicked on all the lights and threw down the cases of makeup that were slowly making you feel like your fingers were going to fall off- with a clatter on the table you exhaled and rubbed your now very sore fingers. you loved her job as a makeup artist, but it was hard to like it this early in the morning; and once again, without coffee. 

you began shoving boxes round the room to clear space for the fitting and hanging the clothes up on the railing beside the mirror until you heard a familiar voice singing a very joyful ‘good morning y/n.’ You flashed a look in the direction of the door to see Jules, the head stylist in her puffy jacket (which looked like it would swallow the entire 5ft1 woman whole) duffle bag on one shoulder and gripping 2 cups of what looked like Starbucks coffee.

You stood up throwing your hair back behind your shoulders, taking the cup from Jules who extended it towards you. ‘You ready for today?’ Jules questioned, taking a sip from the cup she hugged in her hands. ‘I am now’ you said gesturing to the coffee you’d been thinking about from the moment you sat in the car on the way here. ‘Thanks for filling in by the way, Soo was really worried about leaving us without a makeup artist but her little one is really sick. I really owe you one’ Jules chuckled, setting her jacket down and picking up the makeup case and opening it. Soo was the whole reason you got into makeup, she was the head makeup artist at the company you worked for- granted you were a little nervous to be deemed ‘head makeup artist’ for the day, but with her daughter being as cute as she is, you could forgive her for being ill. ‘No no it’s fine, call it even for the coffee’ you smiled rolling out the makeup brushes.

A few more members of the team came into the studio and began to help you set up. 8am rolled around and your client was expected to arrive anytime, in the meantime you went over the makeup brief and sat on your phone scrolling aimlessly. ‘Morning everyone’ a deep voice said from the doorway. Your head whipped round to see the unfamiliar face smiling towards Jules. His black long hair draped over one eye; as he stretched out his arms to hug the little too excited Jules. ‘Oh good morning love!’ she sang, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Changkyun, this is y/n’ she said extending her arm out, gesturing towards you who was now stood up, coffee cup in hand for comfort. ‘Soo had to look after her little one, so y/n is going to look after you today. she’s well on her way to being head makeup artist’ Jules sang like a proud mother. You just stood there and chuckled at her. Changkyun paused for a moment, looking you dead in the eye before slowly putting his hand out for you to shake. You uncomfortably swallowed before shaking his hand back and gave a closed mouth smile staring him back in the eyes. ‘Nice to meet you, y/n’ he replied slowly, with a hint of sultry. His eyes dropped slowly over your body, not unnoticed, but somehow not unwanted. Hands still touching, Jules clapped, pulling you both back into the reality of being in a room with other people. ‘Shall we get you changed then?’ Jules said, ushering Changkyun over to the clothing rail. You began to feel your ears burning red and your hands run cold. He knew exactly what he was doing. And my god, it was working. 

Watching his take off his jacket while Jules held up countless outfits against his chest, deciding which one would capture the concept of the shoot. After much deliberation they settled on a mesh shirt with a beige jacket over the top. Changkyun cast a look over in your direction where you leaned against the makeup table trying to act as casual as you could; as he pulled his oversized black shirt over his head revealing what can only be described a the body of a god. his gaze never leaving your’s. your breath hitched as his shook his hands through his hair; leaving everyone in the room making noises of approval and gawking at his body. ‘we need to draw the tattoos on you before we put this one though’ Jules said hanging the shirt back up and looking over towards you. ‘y/n do you want to get started on that before we dress him? just do whatever you think would match the theme’ Jules continued, Changkyun smirked, knowing exactly how this was going to go. 

‘oh, okay yeah.. um, come sit here’ you said awkwardly motioning over to the couch that was placed in the middle of the room. he flopped down spreading his arms over the back of the sofa, as you slowly walked over; tattoo pens in hand. you couldn’t even bring your eyes up to meet his yet you could feel his stare casting itself over your entire body. suddenly wishing you wore a bigger shirt. softly you pulled the cap off the pen and cleared your throat, desperately trying to look him in the eye but failing miserably. ‘so um.. I was thinking, maybe something on your neck? is that okay?’ you uttered quietly, playing with the cap of the pen to ease your nerves. ‘I like that.’ changkyun replied, his gaze still running over your upper body. somehow it didn’t feel like he was talking about the tattoo. ‘okay.. can you um just..’ you trailed off as you gently turned his face away by his jawline and shuffled in a little closer to get a better handle on his neck. you cold hands touched his warm skin, immediately repeating the feeling of blood draining from your face as you placed the pen on his neck. your eyes flicked over to the mirror that faced the couch; where you saw changkyun looking directly at you, smirking as he saw your eyes meet. your heart felt like it was beating out your chest, becoming very worried he could hear it the same as you heard it in your ears. 

around 10 minutes passed and you’d finished the first tattoo and you moved onto the next one; on the upper side of his bicep. this job was becoming a bit of a gift and a curse. the rest of the staff carried on organising, which should have made the situation feel much more relaxed, yet it didn't seem to make any difference, you still felt like your heart was about to burst out your chest. until he spoke. ‘do you have any?’ he murmured. you almost didn’t hear it. you shifted your eyes from your work to his face to see if it was directed at you. his dark gaze was staring back at you, taking you by surprise. ‘any what?’ you murmured back at the same level, looking back at his arm. ‘any tattoos?’ he responded. you swallowed slowly, how on earth did his voice make you so nervous? it cast goosebumps all over your body yet made you feel like you were burning up; it was almost repulsive as he knew what he was doing, but you didn't want it to stop. 

a moment passed as you replied ‘yeah.. I have 3′ you steadied you breath trying to sound relaxed, like you weren’t going to explode. ‘what are they?’ he questioned, his voice beginning to sound softer as the conversation began to flow. you pulled away from the tattoo and gently pushed your hair over your left shoulder; turning your upper body the same way. ‘so.. I have one here’ you said softly, showing the back of your shoulder to him. his eyes were low as they took in all of your back, not leaving the mark on you until the last moment when you turned back to face him. his gaze flicking back up to meet yours as you turned to the other side to gesture to one on the side of your ribs, pulling your shirt up just a tiny bit to reveal the next trace of ink. his now hunched over body dangerously close to your exposed skin; causing you to suddenly stop, lowering your shirt back down and locking eyes with him. ‘and um, I can’t show you the other one..’ you trailed off, picking your pen back up. you could tell he was still looking at you. ‘why?’ he queried, in an extra low, extra sultry voice. the smirk on his lips growing larger as he began to guess as to why it was something you couldn't show him. he thought seemed to excite him. and equally, it excited you. ‘its um, in a place I can’t show you..’ you chucked softly, hoping it would break his intense gaze. to your dismay, he remained his harsh look. ‘show me’ he practically growled, his voice as low and the pit in your stomach. your eyes quickly shifted round the room, noticing that everyone had now left. ‘I can’t..’ you replied with a little chuckle. this response seemed to peak Changkyun’s interest in the matter. ‘show me where on me then’ he whispered slowly reaching for your hand and pulling it towards his body that was now shifting to his slouched torso and parted legs. your heart began to race, with the knowledge of where the tattoo was and knowing where you were going to have to touch him. this was less than professional, but somehow you didn’t care. he placed your hand on his chest trailing it down towards his abs. your fingers lightly leading the way until he reached the base of his stomach. 

‘here?’ he paused the motion and looked up towards you, a smirk plastered over his lips. a smirk that transferred onto your lips too. ‘a bit further’ you whispered, earning a breath from changkyun. his hand continued down past his stomach, onto the waistband of his jeans, causing him to exhale gently. just as both your hands approached the bulge that had now appeared under his jeans, you took control, steering his hand to the side next to his hip. ‘here’ you whispered cheekily, earning a loud yet disappointed exhale from his bitten lips. ‘I see’ he said, releasing your hand from his grip and placing his hands behind his head and leaning back. his eyes moving up and down your body as you stood back up and put the pens away. ‘I'm done’ you taunted, leaning against table looking at him with low eyes. sticking his tongue in his cheek pausing for a moment before pushing himself up; he walked slowly over to meet you. feeling the heat from his bare chest inches away from your small frame. his height looming over you made you feel tiny, and he liked that. he thrived on it. 

his now tattooed bicep curled up following his vascular hand towards your neck, goosebumps coated your arms from top to finger tips. his fingers trailed over your exposed shoulder, hooking his finger under the single strap from your top and and pulling it towards him. the inches between you two vanished leaving your body pressed against his taught chest. he leaned down, his breath trailing over your neck until he stopped at your ear. ‘no we’re not’ he said in a low breathy tone. your heart was beating a million miles per hour, your lips burned to touch his but you couldn’t move. like your entire body had stopped working.

changkyun pulled away, leaving your stunned body stuck in place. finally giving you a chance to breathe. his back muscles moving with every step it took away; making his way over to the clothing rail and putting his mesh shirt on without even looking at you. as if on queue; Jules entered clapping at changkyun in his outfit. ‘oh doesn’t he look great!’ she sang holding his face in her hands. ‘right lets get you on set!’ she said, pulling his hand out the door and onto set. leaving you in the dressing room, trying to rationalise everything that just happened. unsuccessfully. suddenly her head poked back into the room taking you by surprise. ‘aren’t you coming?’ she queried. ‘yeah, yeah I'm coming’ you replied pushing your confused body off the desk and following her out. 

the set looked insane, the lights were low and red creating a really sultry vibe. almost dingy. the room was full of extras talking quietly and milling around, the crew on the other side of the room looking like they were getting ready to begin. a rather tall looking man wearing a directors hat clapped to the room of people and shouted ‘right everyone, we are going to get started! we are going to get the second scene out the way first then we shall start shooting the dancing! okay! changkyun and ara come over here.. changkyun sit down and ara if you could get on top of him please’ he said motioning them to a green couch that was placed in the middle of the room. a tall black haired woman lead the way, she was gorgeous, her short hair grazed her shoulders and her makeup was sexy and sultry. bothered wasn't the word you would use to describe the description, but curious was. you wanted to see how this would unfold. changkyun shot a look over to you, once again a smirk on his face. you desperately wanted to keep your face neutral, knowing what he wanted you to react and not giving him the satisfaction was far more important. with that he flopped onto the couch, his arms over the back. this looked alarmingly familiar. ara gently straddled him, placing her delicate arms over his shoulders, awaiting further instruction. ‘okay great! so your basically just going to be touching him, hands on his neck, chest, hair, things like that. just make it look natural’ the director instructed. the 2 nodded in response. the discomfort this brought you was really beginning to settle in. you sat down on the crew chair behind you and crossed your legs, just watching. 

a lull of whispers filled the room as the crew got into position, leaving changkyun a few seconds to look over at you, hoping this would make you jealous. you wouldn’t give it to him. you couldn’t. pulling your phone out your pocket seemed like the best option. so you did, and began mindlessly scrolling, trying to ignore the very uncomfortable scene that was about to play out before you. ‘aaaand, action!’ called the director, the smoke machines began to spray thick fog throughout the room, a deep bass began to play only adding to the atmosphere. a few seconds passed of you scrolling on your phone trying to ignore it. but you couldn’t help but flick your eyes up from your screen. her hands were all up in his hair and trailing down his neck, her head thrown back leaving her exposed chest and neck to his gaze. wow this was uncomfortable. the discomfort was interrupted by the booming voice of the director ‘CUT’ he shouted, immediately the lights came on and the lull of quiet voices resumed. the pair looked confused, as the director strode over to the two on the sofa. the words exchanged were quiet, making sure that no one else heard. with that he made his way back over to the crew. ‘okay lets go again. aaaand action!’ he called. the atmosphere fell again. and so did your eyes to your phone. this time it lasted a little longer, until the director called cut again. the director lifted his hat to wipe sweat from his brow as he chatted to ara and changkyun. ara nodded strongly and apologised to him and got back into position. 

the interruptions continued another 2 times; causing the previous lull of whispers to become louder from the crew. Jules was stood talking to the producer who was looking rather disgruntled; making you wonder what the heck was going on. A rather worried Jules shuffled back over to meet you sighing as she sat down. ‘what’s going on?’ you queried, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. Jules leaned over to you, trying to make the conversation as unheard as possible. ‘well.. she’s just not quite getting the direction. it looks awkward on camera. I think they're going to call for a break and try again later’ she whispered, eyes flicking over to the now departed duo on the couch every few words. ‘okay guys, go grab yourself a drink and something to eat and we will start again in 20 minutes, sorry guys’ the producer called to the extras who are shared the same confused look as they walked out the room to the snack room. 

the director and producer walked over to ara and changkyun who were now looking over the directions on the paper in front of them. ‘grab your brushes, lets go listen in’ Jules said cheekily dragging you over to the group, to touch up their makeup. you pulled a powder brush out of your waist pouch and some a compact and began to power changkyun’s face. the conversation sounded intense. ‘it’s just that it’s looking a little awkward on camera. you’re both very farm apart, your bodies need to be closer together. more intimate looking.’ he director said awkwardly. changkyun didn’t even seem to be listening. he was looking back up at you, even though you weren’t looking at him, you wouldn’t. not right now. ‘sorry I don’t want to be a pain.. I just can’t imagine what you're asking’ ara said shyly, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. 

‘come here’ changkyun demanded, not breaking his gaze at you. you shifted your eyes up to meet his. ‘what?’ you questioned, lowering your brush from his cheek. ‘like this’ he said calmly, taking your arm and pulling you down onto the sofa. suddenly you were straddling him, brushes still in hand and very confused. before you even had chance to object, one hand was trailing up your thigh to your hip while the other one travelled from your shoulder to your neck as his mouth made its way to meet it. his hot breath marking where you longed for his mouth to plant itself. his lips stopping centimetres from your sweet spot. the crew erupted with praise and woah’s. wishing he would stay there for a few more seconds was too much to ask as he pulled away, leaning back on the coach and removing his hands from your hip and neck. his eyes meeting ara’s shocked face, ‘like that’ he smirked. slowly you stood up, fixing yourself as you tried to come back to reality. ‘yes yes like that! lets go for a take while the extras are eating’ the director said running back to the camera followed by the director. Jules dragged your stunned body back to the crew area as your legs wouldn’t seem to carry you, before you could even say anything to changkyun about how he firstly shouldn’t have done that, or apologise to ara. 

you watched as they got into position again, ran the scene, still as awkward as the last. the sighs and quick cut from the crew told you that they felt the same. ‘okay guys go get a drink and we will see if we can re work the scene’ the producer announced, very deflated. ara apologised and left the room, you couldn’t help but feel bad for her. this was uncomfortable, getting that intimate with someone in front of a whole crew. lord. you pulled your phone out your pocket to check the time. they were running behind. badly. as you locked it and put it back in your pocket you saw the director power walking over towards you. never good. ‘y/n will you do us a favour’ he asked you, sounding a little desperate. this could go one of 2 ways you thought. coffee run.. or something you realllly didn’t want to do. ‘umm.. what is it?’ you asked cautiously. ‘would you just do the scene with changkyun? we are running really behind and don’t have time to keep refilming’ he pleaded. you suddenly realised the entire crew was looking at you. including changkyun. ‘um.. I'm sure ara will be fine after she has a drink just give her another shot, please’ you whispered trying to not be heard by anyone else. ‘please y/n we don't have time, it’ll take 5 minutes max, please i’ll owe you one..’ he said, clasping his hands together pleading. you shifted your gaze over to changkyun who was stood in eye line behind the director, the corner of his lip curling into a smirk. god I hate him, you thought. ‘um.. yeah okay fine’ you said running one hand through your hair trying to calm yourself down. ‘yes okay amazing, get into positions please!’ he shouted turning back towards changkyun. your chest was burning like you were on fire as you watched him walk over to the couch, knowing exactly what was going to happen made it so much worse. 

slowly walking to meet him at the coach and standing over him as he looked up at you with burning desire. you adjusted your shirt slightly before gently straddling him, keeping you distance still. feeling the discomfort erupting. changkyun was obviously enjoying your awkwardness, chuckling as he reached one arm around your hips and pulling you closer to him so your core was now directly on his bulge. your throat hitched as his cool breath trailed down your cleavage, never breaking eye contact. the burn in your chest was spreading through your entire body, every part taking turns to be set on fire. ‘I told you we weren’t done’ he whispered gruffly, knowing exactly what he meant. the moment was interrupted by the director ‘okay right lets go, very natural, just like earlier, y/n just follow the lead okay? right aaaand action!’ he called, causing the entire set to fall silent, waiting for whatever was about to happen. it took a moment before anything happened, soaking in exactly where your bodies connected. the music boomed low as you both became engulfed in a spray of smoke. it felt far more comfortable than before, like no one could see you. 

changkyun’s hand spread flat travelling up your thigh, curving to the contours of your hip, leading up your side. your body froze outwardly, but inside you felt everything. his hand on a path to your breast, taunting you with the feeling he redirected his graze to gently trail over the top of your breast and up your neck. forcefully gripping the back of your neck and planting soft kisses up it, starting at the base and slowly working his way up. taking his time on every spot, missing non of it. earning a soft blow of air from your mouth are you arched your back to meet his hard chest. a breathy ‘knew it’ escaped his lips between harsh kisses up you neck as he reached your sweet spot. 

you couldn’t let him have all the fun. you thought to yourself as you reached down to his belt loops, pulling your cores closer together taking him by surprise. a quiet low groan left his lips as you reached one hand into the back of his hair; gently tightening your grip, keeping him in place. his hands fell from you neck, holding his grip on your hips. you knew this was the reaction you wanted but you couldn’t stop there. taking the opportunity to snake your right hand up his chest to meet his jawline, holding it lightly, leaving his neck exposed. his eyes connected with yours, letting you have full control of him. his rosy lips slightly parted as you leaned towards them. grazing your nose against his, lips inches away from each other. the torment was well received, noticing a small smirk on changkyun’s lips. ‘kiss me then’ he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. you let out a breathy laugh as you removed the inches between you two, grazing your lips against his. you felt his entire body relax beneath you as he moaned into the kiss; allowing you full control. or so you though, he quickly wrapped a strong arm around your waist, flipping you over so he was on top. his torso baring weight down on you, pulling your legs to wrap around him. hands either side of your face to keep you exactly where he wanted you, leaving you completely submissive to his grip. 

‘aaaand cut!’ the director shouted, pulling you both out of the complete state of euphoria you were just in. ‘fantastic guys, wow that was great. I think that’s it, take 10 minutes and we will start the next scene’ the producer continued, clapping as he stood up out of his chair. leaving the crew to continue to their lull. you slowly looked up at changkyun again who hadn’t seemed to look away. his once perfectly tousled hair now a mess, reflective of yours. you pushed yourself to sit upright on the couch, releasing yourself from his arms. silence. from you both. desperately trying to think of what to say; changkyun began ‘I knew you weren’t done’ he smirked. causing you to chuckle awkwardly, ‘whatever’ you replied running a hand through your hair, putting it back in place. ‘the shoot finishes at 5, I'll see you after’ he said flopping back onto the couch next to you. he wanted you to say yes. you knew that. and you couldn’t have that. not yet. you leaned towards him, watching him think you were going to kiss him again. stopping just inches away from his lips you whispered; ‘we’ll see’ standing up and walking away before he even had a chance to open his eyes. catching a view of you before you left the room, realising his trousers were now getting uncomfortable.. 

[what-the--curtains]

In a Week

Part 3/4 - Snowballs and cigarettes

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

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Summary: The snows finally stopped and its about time you got to work unburying your car. With your friends all prompting you to move on from your toxic ex you find yourself becoming more and more aware of the kind of person you’d want to be with. And how Frankie was ticking all those boxes.

Authors notes: Ugh okay I was over the max block text so the finale is split into two parts!! But you get them both tonight💕🌻💕 .

Warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, allusions to sex (nothing depicted), PTSD, smoking, drinking, swearing

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

Word count: 4.0k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 4

It had only been three days but you had found yourself in a routine that you hoped you never fell out of. Each morning he’d wake up first and you’d be predictably wrapped around him for another 2 hours or so. He found it hard to believe you were able to wake up before 10am, let alone that you were up at 5am most days but he’d love to be around to see it happen. For the first time, he saw something he’d long given up on. A future with someone else ingrained into his and his daughters life. Maybe it was stupid feeling this way after a few days, but he was old enough to know when he felt a real connection, and he’d never felt as good as he did when he was with you. He would make his feelings known to you, one way or another, he’d regret it forever if he let you slip through his fingers. He just had to find the right time to do it. It had been a long time since you’d woken up with someone in the same bed as you and even longer since the person was someone who made you feel safe and secure. There was something calming about knowing that even if you pushed your freezing cold feet between his calves in the middle of the night he wouldn’t get angry, or push you off he’d just grumble and pull you closer.

It sounded pathetic but it was the nicest a guy had been to you in years. You knew how stupid it was to catch feelings this fast, and it definitely wasn’t like you to feel such strong emotions. Since the funeral you had actively decided to forego them although. This benefited your work, helped you in your field, made you a better doctor, but keeping all your emotions bottled up took its toll. Primarily on your love life. You’d had your fair share of flings with other residents, nurses, friends of friends, but between classes and shift work there wasn’t time. Plus what was the point when you had no idea where you’d be moved to. At least that’s what you told yourself. Then Jonathan came along and you’d let him in, let him know you and you fell for him in the process. Then he’d started dating someone else, told you he didn't realize you were exclusive, and it shattered you completely. You’d pieced yourself back together and once you were better, once you were finally over him, he’d cycle back round to you, determined to keep you on retainer. The whole ordeal had left you tired. You’d never had a real relationship and you were already done with them. You never understood how people would want to live with someone for the rest of their lives until now. Catching feelings had always happened in periphery to your life making it easy to push by a crush by simply avoiding them, but you couldn’t avoid Frankie. Each day you spent trapped inside with him he’d continued to grow on you, cementing your feelings for him tenfold. You yawn and stretch your leg out over Frankies torso propping yourself up onto your elbow so you can reach over him and grab the glass of water on the nightstand. He exhales as if your movement across him is an inconvenience to his meticulous strategy for winning whatever game he was playing on his phone. You take a sip and put the cup back down, rolling off the bed and opening the curtains.

“Hey!” you shout, causing Frankies head to shoot over to you, “It stopped snowing!” you exclaim, gazing out over the parking lot where the snow had fallen. The powder undulating overtop the cars buried beneath it. You stretch your arms up catching an unsavoury whiff coming from your armpits causing you to pull a face. Turning around just in time to see Frankie laughing from the bathroom door.

“Seriously man? Do you have to beat me to everything!” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Gotta be faster sweetheart.” he says, closing the door behind him. From anyone else the term would have driven you into a rage induced frenzy, but it was endearing not condescending coming from him. You take the time to call Stella, you’d been texting with her since you got stuck but you felt it was time to officially announce your arrival as permanently cancelled.

“Hey girl”

“Hey babe what's going on? You calling with good or bad news?” she asks, a constant bustle evident in the background.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, but only bad news on my end. I am so fucking sorry, I should have just flown down like you said” you offer, leaning back against the window allowing the chill of the outside to cool you off.

“Well this is why you should always listen to me, but i’ll forgive you just this once.” she laughs.

“God I can’t believe the one wedding I actually care about I’m going to miss!” you exasperated, shifting away from the window and flopping down onto the bed.

“Well I definitely won’t miss you, especially considering you’ve already sent a gift.” she teases.

“How, very dare you” you punctuate.

“Yup long con paid off, 10 years I pretended to like you just to get you to buy me a toaster from ebay” Stella laughs.

“You could have just stolen mine after the first year, then you could have had me gone!” you state.

“Ugh a huge mistake!!” she overemphasizes dramatically, causing you both to burst out laughing.

“So….” you say after your giggles subside leaving a gentle ache in your ribs that always occurred when you talked to Stella.

“What?” she asks, sniffling.

“ Did John make it out there?” you ask, in a painfully transparent way.

“Why?” she spits, her tone suddenly lethal. She hated the guy, she was the one who was always left dealing with you after he’d used you up, helping to piece you back together, just in time for him to get a hold on you again.

“He asked about me?” you query, once again failing to convey your intentions.

“I’m not indulging this anymore, it's bad for you. He’s bad for you, there's only so many times I can watch him emotionally manipulate you” she rants.

“Ya, but it's easy and it's so good with him.” you emphasize.

“It’s not easy, take it from someone in an easy relationship, it's not supposed to hurt that much.” she chides, determined to have you see the light.

“But..”

“Nope, I'm drawing the line for you, find someone else. You’re a gorgeous single doctor,

“Almost doctor” you interrupt, but the statement is ignored.

“Aren’t you currently shacked up with one of my stupid brothers friends?”

“Yes? And?” you say, your heart suddenly beating faster as your head turns to see Frankies hat on the nightstand.

“Frankie right? Statue like, soft curls, kind, deep brown eyes? And don’t pretend like you didn’t notice I know you like the back of my hand!”

“So what if I have, doesn't mean..” you whisper, not wanting him to hear you.

“Nope, don’t sell yourself short, I say get cozy with him and finally move on from dickhead McGee, even if it's just for a night, cleanse the palette. Besides, you know he’ll be doing whoever looks his way at my wedding.” you hear a muffled shout “alright I have to go, something about the bridesmaids fighting.”

“Your sisters? Fighting? Who could have seen that coming” you deadpan.

“I know, god I wish you were here.”

“I wish I was as well i'll call tomorrow in case you get cold feet, I have a five point plan”

“I won't” she chimes.

“ I know because you love her”

“And I also love you” she says

“And I love you” you respond before hanging up. Not even a minute after hanging up you get a call from Santiago

“Hey, I just wanted to verbally apologize for trapping you with ‘Fish, though he's definitely one of the better ones to get stuck with.” he says.

“Well that’s good to know” you laugh, rolling your eyes.

“He hasn’t tried anything has he? If he has I'll kill him, and get away with it, you'll have to help me with the body but...” Santiago starts.

“Santi, it's fine he's cool, really sweet, actually,” you offer heat rushing to your face for some unknown reason.

“Good. He touches you ill..” he warns.

“You’ll kill him ya I got it!” you snap, you understood why Santiago felt like he had to play big brother for you but sometimes he was a touch overbearing. “Is John there?” you try and ask casually, failing to head Stellas advice.

“Don’t...” Santi starts, you can practically hear his jaw clench over the phone “you know if I see him tonight i'm gonna knock him out for how he treats you”

“It wasn’t that bad.” you whisper.

“It was, still is, I heard him bragging about how if worse comes to worse he always has his plan D,” he offers, not to hurt you but to try and free you from the cycle.

“That dick. You know what Stellas right, fuck him!” you exclaim with a newfound determination to rid him from your life.

“Oh my god, are you finally seeing the light?” Santi asks “Praise the lord!” He shouts up into the sky.

“Ya I guess so” you say staring at Frankie as he dries his hair with the towel. “I gotta go, see you soon.”

“Not soon enough” he laughs as you hang up.

“Whose that?” Frankie asks, still curious about who you’d been hoping to see at the wedding and what they’d done to earn your affection.

“Pope!” you say with a smile, pushing your back off the bed and sitting up.

“Threatening to kill me?” Frankie predicts.

“Ya we have a plan” you murmur.

“We?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye and his mouth upturned at the sides.

“Well he'll kill you but, I cant have him go to jail so i'll have to hide your body.” you explain

“Good glad that got sorted” he says, his smile now in full effect.

“I'll go grab some breakfast” you say.

“No ill get it, you’re always getting it, plus gives you time to shower, I can smell you from here.” He prods, grabbing the key.

“Rude!” you yell out after him.

He's back when you exit the shower

“Oh thank you, you say grabbing the plate form him”

“Just what the doctor ordered, hey?” he asks, smiling stupidly big.

“Ouuuf that that was bad truly apologize to me” He laughs at how serious your face gets “You're laughing? I had to listen to that joke and you're laughing?” you say through a mouthful of eggs. “Here's something that'll wipe that stupid smile off your face, snow stops which means we have to clear off my car.”

“Using the royal we are we?” he asks

“Think of it as repayment for the pun,” you say waving your fork in his face

“How will we be clearing it off?” he asks, leaning over the counter.

“Brush” you say, as if it's obvious

“Where's the brush?” he asks, resting his chin on the back of his hands and smiling sweetly at you, waiting for an answer.

“In the….oh” you say, face dropping when you realize that the brush was in the car currently buried under a snow pile.

“Not so smart now” he laughs pushing back off the counter taking your empty plate with him, washing it up for you.

“Well I guess we just have to get to the door with our hands then” you say smiling.

“Once again, about this we,” he says, drying his hands on the dish towel, turning to see a dramatic pout plastered across your face.

“Fine, I'll only help because I think you may disappear in the snow if you go in alone” he responds, the truth was, he couldn't deny you.

You both get dressed into the most winter proof clothes you had, neither of you having packed for a snowy expedition. As you exit the room you see him grab a pack of cigarettes he’d been hiding, not wanting you to see his worst traits.

“Those will kill you, you know,” you say, causing him to roll his eyes dramatically.

“Okay mom” he laughs grabbing the lighter despite your disapproving glare,

“You have a daughter to think about” you say, feeling like you'd be letting your profession down by giving up so easily.

“It's why I smoke, the safest way to calm the nerves while staying clean” he murmurs with a look on his face that is enough to get you to drop it for now. You weren't about to pry into his struggle with addiction and you certainly weren’t one to judge, you’d faced similar issues after your brothers passing.

“I used to smoke,” you confess as the elevator doors close in front of you both.

“Seriously?” he remarks, not able to believe it.

“Pack a week for about a year” you say, slowly nodding your head as the two of you walk through the foyer towards the parking lot.

“You quit?” He asks, impressed.

“Ya I don’t think it was long enough to form a habit. When did you start?” you offer as you move your legs through the snow, it was dense your legs would be sore tomorrow.

“What? Are you gonna assess the state of my lungs?” Frankie laughs, moving easily through the snow you were struggling so hard against.

“Yes, but i'll only tell you the results if you want to know”

“Few years back, after...” he stops himself before confessing the worst thing that ever happened in his life.

“The mission” you finish for him, remembering how Pope had picked up similar habits once he finally returned home. “You were there with Santi?” you question

“He told you about it?” he asks, sterner than you’d seen him before, he was afraid that you knew what a monster he was. You shake your head, no and he thanks the gods. “You think i'm going to?” He queries lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag, making sure not to blow it out anywhere near you.

“I don’t know, maybe. It’s the one thing he wont tell me about, figured it would be easier for you if you were talking to a stranger about it.”

“Not much of a stranger now” he laughs, but there was something behind his eyes, a similar sadness that you saw with Santi when he talked about it. Your thoughts are interrupted when something cold hits you in the face, your mouth drops open, your forehead scrunches in disbelief.

“Shit, I wasn’t aiming for your face I swear!” he looks up panicked

“I guess it's what I get for asking so many questions” you say, hand still over your face playing into it as you formulate your attack.

“No, oh my god! No! It wasn't because of that, let me see” he says, you let your hands drop and you smile wickedly up at him. Before he has time to react, you rub a handful of snow into his face.

“Oh... you're gonna pay for that.” he draws out, wiping the snow from his face.

After 15 minutes of all out war, and a brief truce that was to be officially signed once back inside you managed to get to the door handle and lean into the back seat grabbing out the brush. You offer it to Frankie, but he's already started clearing off the rest of the car with his arms.

“Hey can you grab my spare charger out of the compartment there?” you say cleaning off the trunk, the front doors now accessible.

“Ya, holy shit is this a knife?” he asks, pulling out a knife.

“Maybe.” You say staring into his eyes as his mouth hangs open in amusement. “For safety, I didn't know who I'd be driving up with! You coulda been a murderer” you explain palms up.

“And you were planning on what? shanking me?” he laughs a huge smile on his face, weirdly endeared by your thought process.

“Only if I had to.” You say chuckling between shivers, the cold now seeping through your makeshift snowsuit hitting against the sweat you’d worked up.

“You want it?” He offers.

“No i'm good, thanks”

“Because you don’t think I'm a murderer or because you have another one hidden in the room already?” he laughs, but he stops when you tilt your head slightly and raise your eyebrows, averting your eyes.

“Wait, do I need this knife?” he calls as you trudge back through the snow.

You both change into less sweaty attire and you settle into the couch turning on to watch the latest forensic files rerun. You shiver as you sit down having caught a chill. Noticing you shaking, Frankie goes to the wardrobe and grabs down a spare blanket throwing one at you so it lands directly over your head. He laughs when he sees you slowly turn towards him beneath the blanket, like someone in a makeshift ghost costume.

“Excuse me!” you laugh

“Hey you should be thanking me, can't have you freezing to death.” he says, “Are you asleep under there?” he asks, when you don't respond

“I'm not a cat! I don't fall asleep when someone throws a blanket over me!” He's not paying attention to what he's doing and the bottle in his hand shatters against the counter, a shard slicing his hand open.

“Fucking shit.” you him sigh.

“Are you okay?” You ask maneuvering out from under your blankets to see Frankie in the kitchen, glass on the floor and blood coming down his arm.

“Wow you're out of my sight for 2 seconds and you maim yourself” you say laughing, stopping when you see the panicked look in his eye, the event evidently triggering something deep in his psyche. You quickly stand up and he goes to move towards you.

“No don't move Frankie, stay where you are.” you reassure softly, watching as his eyes lay into your own, his breathing calmer now “You're in socks, can't have you cutting your dancing feet” you say.

“You’ve heard of my dancing feet,” he says, grounding himself again.

“Only bad things” you say, throwing him a pair of shoes that he carefully puts on before moving toward the closet where the broom is “No come here, let me see your hand. The mess can wait, you're more important,” you stress leading him over to the couch and sitting him down.

“Wow, first time I'll be able to afford professional health care “ he jokes as you take his hands in your own.

“Ow” he says when you press down onto the hand to assess the damage.

“It's fine, not deep enough for stitches, should heal up on its own. I still want to clean it though, to stop any infection.” You return with a small bottle of over priced vodka opening it and dabbing some onto a cotton pad. He doesn't flinch when the alcohol cleans the wound and he watches as you bandage his hand up.

“You carry a med pack with you on every trip?” he queries, but you don’t hear him you’re too focused on wrapping his hand.

“There! good as new,” you say standing up and cleaning up the glass on the floor. “Hey did you bring a swimsuit?” you ask, dumping the glass into some newspaper that was left in the room.

“Why?” He asks.

“Answer the question Frankie” you say, folding the paper around the shards before placing it into the trash.

“Yes, you wanna go hang out at the pool with the fifty families stuck here?”

“Ya. You don't? Seriously this room is wildly expensive and has a huge jacuzzi tub, I'm getting in your welcome to join, but bathing suits are mandatory.” you offer.

“I was gonna get in fully clothed,” he offers, not missing a beat.

“Perfect even better”

As per usual he beats you to the punch and settles into the tub that was more akin to a hot tub than a bath, he wanted to get in first partially to annoy you and partially so his body wouldn’t be on full display, he wasn't as jacked as he once was and he’d become insecure about certain areas that he’d let go once his kid came along. He watches as you walk in and his eyes can't help but follow your figure around the room, a beautiful person behind a beautiful personality, he thanks the universe for placing him into your orbit.

“That why they call you catfish?” you ask drawing him from his daydream back into an equally pleasing reality.

“What?” he responds, blushing at having been called out on his gawking.

“Cause your mouth hangs open like a fish out of water when you're zoned out” you smirk, lowering yourself down into the tub.

“Rude” he says splashing after you settle in.

“Alright, Frankie, what is it?” you ask, causing his face to look up to you “what's your deal, apart from smoking? You gotta have flaws”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” he charms

“Sinister” you laugh, but he doesn't, you reach your foot up tapping his cheek with it,

“Disgusting,” he chuckles, grabbing it and rubbing the arch before pushing it back into the water.

“God, I miss the ocean” you confess, “ I hate the city sometimes.”

“You’re not planning on staying in Chicago after you're done?”

“Nope, gonna get myself out to the coast, or at least somewhere without winters.” you say stretching your arms out across the tub. “How about you, are you planning on staying?”

“ Probably, no reason to leave, plus it's close to my mom so she can take care of Arianna when I'm at work, though I wouldn't be opposed to moving if the opportunity presented itself she's young enough that it wouldn’t be too hard.” he says, wanting you to know that if you asked, hed follow you anywhere.

“Arianna, beautiful name. Did you pick it?” you ask looking up when a few minutes of silence pass. As you do you notice that the somber look from early had returned. “You okay?” you ask.

“I don't deserve her, I don’t deserve something so good.” he states, suddenly realizing he didn’t deserve someone like you either. You wouldn’t be sitting in the tub with him if you knew what he’d done.

“Frankie that's not true” you reassure

“You don't know the shit I've done. I'm not... I'm not a good person,” he says, still not looking over to you.

“Well, I…” you begin to refute.

“Seriously, I've done bad things… awful things'' he clears his throat, afraid to look at you, afraid you’d be terrified by him.

“People make bad mistakes, but that doesn't make them irredeemable, not if they are willing to change. You understand what you did was bad, that says something.” you reassure, knowing the guilt was likely left over from the military.

“Well, wise words coming from someone who's never done anything bad”

“You don't know me that well Frankie, I’ve done my fair share of stupid things, crappy things to numb the pain. It's what we do to make up for those shitty actions that count. At every turn, you’ve shown me that you're not an evil person. Everything I’ve seen is good, and funny and incredibly kind.” you finish and you continue to nudge him with your foot until he finally cracks a smile.

“Well now you're smiling again, my missions complete and it's time for bed” you say stepping out of the tub and drying off, unaware that you’d just made Frankie fall even harder for you. His eyes helplessly following you as you leave the bathroom.

“Since I'm an outpatient, does that mean I get the good side of the bed?” he calls out after you. You roll your eyes but let him have it, you preferred the sleeping situation the way it was.

[ryujin-zanba]

i realise given the notes that some of y'all are actually interested in reading what the newspaper articles say in this post so here they all are under the cut (please keep in mind that a lot of them contain personal headcanons and some hints at certain pairings which i will tag. it's okay if you disagree with/dislike the thoughts i have ab some characters' futures but if you find that's the case just keep it to yourself and dni please) ʕ•ᴥ•ʔง

[Poster which says: Vote for Froppy 🐸]

(Not so subtle Napoleon Dynamite reference from me)

 Hero Red Riot Saves the Day an Hour Before His Wedding!    As expected of our favourite man in red, but what did the groom have to say about this? (The groom is Bakugou and he was proud of Kiri ❤)

 Pro Weekly Deku takes title of Japan’s number one hero third year running! Following in the shadow of the longest reigning number one hero, newcomer Deku has a lot to live up to, but he is already breaking records and impressing critics with his heroism, and fans just can’t get enough of him.  In only his third year as a licensed pro, Deku has managed some incredible feats and is shaping up to give the former number one quite a run for his legacy. The retired pro recently shared in an interview that he could not be more proud of his junior and that he is cheering for our new number one the whole way.

 A New Ingenium Takes the Mantle But what can we expect of our dashing (pun intended) new pro? The youngest son of the Iida family is following in his brother’s footsteps as he officially takes on the name and the legacy of beloved hero Ingenium.

 Lemillion Saves One Million Golden hero Lemillion reclaims his position among the top five pros in only his first week back. After participating in the saving of a suspected one million lives involved in an international hostage crisis, Lemillion saw a 100% popularity increase in the polls and has been recognised by several world leaders for his incredible display of heroism. Lemillion has recently returned to hero work after taking a year off for paternity leave last Summer. A brief interview with the pro revealed that husband and baby are both doing well and their little one is already starting to show signs of developing a strong quirk.

(Mirio’s husband is Tamaki ❤)

 Former U.A Students Pay Tribute to Late Mentor Yagi Toshinori How the world is mourning a great hero and the people closest to him are upholding his legacy.

[Accompanying image of Toshi in his pinstripe suit, tired but smiling]

 Not All Heroes Wear Capes U.A high graduate goes on to make major advances in the field of restorative medical science.  Eri, formerly of U.A high school, is currently completing her doctorate at Tokyo University and is expecting to graduate this year with her first PHD. Her influence in the field, however, has already sparked plans for the implementation of several quirk-specialised branches in every major hospital across the country, a system speculated to be fully functioning as soon as next Spring. Having already successfully treated several prominent heroes throughout her blossoming career, we can expect many great things from Eri in the future and wish her all the best with her final exams.

 [Crude cat drawing next to the text 1-A]

(Reference to Aizawa’s cat drawing that he put on a banner for his class during the sports festival in Smash, which he then hid from them)

 [Magazine cover of Yaoyorozu with the top text ‘Women in Business’ and the bottom text ‘Creati’]

 Shouto-Out Former pro hero Shouto retires at age twenty five in order to pursue a career in nursing. After the new data that came to light last month showed an incline in children born to forced quirk marriages, the ex-pro expressed his interest in becoming involved with caring for and counselling the startling number of those taken into care every year as a result. His partner had this to say, “Shouto has had a lot of difficulty finding a path in life that he believes he truly chose for himself, but I think this is his way of being the hero he wants to be and he has my full support.”

(If you guessed Midoriya as Todoroki’s partner being quoted in this, you guessed right!)

 Hero affectionately dubbed ‘Pikachu’ by residents of local children’s hospital

(Kaminari, of course ⚡)

 Present Jack Pro hero and musical talent Earphone Jack has officially joined the Put Your Hands Up Radio team. Rumours that she is set to succeed Japan’s favourite radio personality have already started circulating, but we’re pretty sure the nation’s sweetheart, Present Mic, has got many years yet before we’ll see him retire.

 [Magazine cover featuring Midoriya with the top text ‘Deku’]

 Uravity Saves US Space Shuttle First person in history to be awarded a knighthood by NASA and her achievements haven’t stopped there. The hero known as Uravity is a staunch advocate for the proposed universal income scheme and her support for the bill has garnered such enthusiasm from fans that it is likely to pass in court this February.

(In the image I accidentally called her Uraravity instead of Uravity, sorry girl!)

 He’s Still Got It! Present Mic wins lifetime achievement award for Put Your Hands Up Radio, the show he has been proudly presenting since his debut as a hero. Maintaining a huge following and unwavering popularity, his nighttime slot every Friday from 1am to 5am has also earned him a place in the hall of fame for highest number of consecutive awards in radio hosting history, congrats man!

(Mic might not be one of Aizawa’s students, but he is just as proud of his husband’s achievements ❤)

 Tsukuyomi Gets His Wings Tsukuyomi and his quirk, Dark Shadow, have officially taken over at Hawks’ agency after the young hero retired from the field to pour everything into his successor. As it stands, Hawks will continue on to support Tsukuyomi and we wish them both the best with any future plans from here on.

(Possible spoiler for latest manga chapters... but I think the bird man might be taking a leaf from All Might’s book and finding someone to carry on his legacy 😅)

 Kacchan’s Kitchen Newly opened in the most up and coming area of the city, the restaurant will join several others on the renewed marina-front, though its owner and head chef are what really set the place apart. Already it has received great reviews from critics. 

(Personal HC alert! Bakugou decides the hero life isn’t what he wants anymore and invests in his culinary skills instead, making Kiri a very well-fed man lol)

 Dance ‘Til You’re Pink! Pro hero Pinky opens a second dance studio that offers new prospects for passionate kids who are unable to attend paid classes. Children from low-income families are invited to choose from a variety of options when it comes to which discipline they wish to pursue and all equipment, performance outfits and other costs are covered by the studio.

 The Modern Batman Or should we say Catman? Illusive hero known only by his mind-control ability is spotted petting a local cat during his evening patrol.

[Accompanying image of Shinsou petting a black cat and looking almost identical to Aizawa in his attire]

[marvellouslymadmim]

Hey! Aspiring fanfic writer here; I was wondering if you could talk a bit about your writing/editing process and how long it all takes.

Thanks!

Welp, roughly the same extremely long amount of time it takes to actually answer an ask, tbh 🙃

So...I only know how my brain works, and I can only tell you what works for me might not work for you, and that's OK. I'm breaking into two separate bits, because I almost never do writing and editing at the same time.

And as far as a timeline, honestly it just depends. On life factors, what my hormones are doing at the time (jfc like the week before my period, I have zero creativity, motivation, or attention span), if I'm having trouble with a particular scene, if I'm getting consistent positive feedback (yes, I can totally admit that I write faster when I know a particular reviewer is following along with every update), etc.

WRITING:

First, you gotta just...be fixated, I guess. Particularly if it's an AU, I sit with it for a long time before I ever write a word. I go over scenes, think about how the world changes, what stays the same, what *has* to stay the same to keep the characters true to their canon personalities. I sit with the characters for a long time, too--not just the main characters, but the supporting cast, too. In order to predict someone's future, you have to know their past. Most of our present actions are actually reactions to past events, when you think about it. The better you know your version of the character, the easier every other aspect of writing will be. I don't know how it is for other people, but I don't ever "feel" like I'm writing. I feel like I'm "witnessing", and the characters are simply doing whatever they wish. (***this is gonna be a thing during the editing process, too, so hang on to that)

Then once I have a general idea, I choose a title. Generally, I do not even start a word document until I have a proper title to put on it. The title is part of the theme and aesthetic to me, and it grounds me in the overall arc.

Once that's done, it's time for outlining. I generally wait until I feel this weird almost tingling in my left arm (weirder still bc I'm right handed) and I'm practically vibrating with a need to WRITE THIS STORY NOW. Then I put on some Bear McCreary (honestly, any videogame soundtrack will do, as they are literally designed to help you maintain focus and keep pace) and fucking go to town. For me, it helps to do this with pen and paper, so that I can go back up and squiggle little notes in the margin, rearrange the order, etc, far faster than I could on a computer.

Important note: the outline is not the end-all be-all. Some things don't make it to the final print. Some minor storylines get tossed or characters simply...take a different path than I expect. I will continue re-writing and updating the outline as I go along. On average, I usually have 5-8 outlines per story, and they're often 3-10 pages long. I also have a posted outline, which is a log of all the scenes that did make it to the final product. 

Then, it's the actual writing, at long last. I have found that I write best at the start of my day, before the noise and static of daily life comes in. So I wake up around 5am and spend 90minutes writing before beginning my workday routine. I have the Word app on my phone and may continue adding bits in throughout the day at work, if I get a moment. However, after 5pm my brain is usually fried and no more creativity happens. On weekends, I try to have one morning where I "sleep in" til 6am, and then write until at least 10am, sometimes 2pm, if I can get away with it.

The hardest part still is knowing when to transition and when to skip to the next chapter/scene/whatever. This is like...zero percent helpful, but I liken it to Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart's definition of pornography: "I know it when I see it." It may seem like a scene is circling, and sometimes it means you gotta leave the room a bit earlier bc the scene has already served its purpose. Other times, it means ya gotta stay with it a bit longer, because there's something the character is trying to say. Give them patience, and give yourself patience, too. Explore the scene and its dynamics. You won't know til you know and even then, sometimes you won't be entirely sure. That's ok, too. Part of the process. Remember editing will happen and you can decide then (hell, you can literally re-edit after it's been published, I've done that before too and added a note on the next chapter for any readers who might have read the first version 🤷🏻‍���️ not ideal but still functional).

EDITING:

I do simple edits (spelling, grammar, etc) just about every morning as I reread what I wrote the day before, which is a refresher course for the day's writing session. But big "real" editing generally doesn't happen until right before posting.

Now, here's the ***issue from writing: sometimes, something just "doesn't work" in a scene. Again, you'll know it when you see it. The words a character is saying feels clunky. The pacing feels off. Something just...ain't right. More often than not, it means either I haven't truly sat with a character long enough to know their true motivations/backstory, or I am not giving characters the proper time/space/impediment to make the actions or say the things they're currently making/saying. I'm trying to force the flow, rather than letting it ebb and breathe when it needs to.

Absolute ProTip: You spent HOURS writing this scene. It's got some REALLY GOOD moments and lines in it. It doesn't work but you can't just delete it. It's your LIFE. I struggle with this A LOT, and I have found a solution: create a second "outtakes" document to cut and paste those scenes into. Sometimes I still keep moments or bits of dialog. Sometimes I later use bits in a later scene. Sometimes I never look at it again but I still feel secure in knowing that if I wanted to go back and use the original scene instead, I totally can. I don't think I've actually ever gone back to the original, tbh, but it reduced my anxiety about deleting the scene and starting over.

So back to the scene that doesn't work. I take it apart, figure out *at what exact point* it stops working, then work back up a few lines to see where the shift actually begins. More often than not, it's because I'm having characters express their feelings in ways they actually wouldn't. (people very very very rarely actually say what they're thinking/feeling, and you have to relay it in other ways). So I have to keep the internal monologue of what they're actually feeling/thinking, while figuring out how that actually translates via tone, body language, and what they do and don't say.

The "something ain't working stage" can take LITERAL WEEKS. I sometimes have to walk away for awhile, or tackle it only on days when I know I have hours upon hours to truly work on it. I keep circling back around, and eventually, the knot works itself out. Persistence, and insistence that "good enough" isn't actually good enough, are key. (this is why you have to fixated on the story you want to tell--because some days, it's going to take every ounce of that obsession to keep you going and keep you on the track of telling the story you wanted to tell, rather than settling or switching to an easier tack)

Sometimes, editing is a breeze. I don't change much, I may go a little more into the character's inner world here or there. Once you've been doing this for awhile, you'll just know when a story hits all its marks--and you'll also know when it's not, when it could be more or do more, and you can figure out how to get it there. There isn't a precise formula for it, it's more like cooking without an actual recipe to follow--a dash here, a bit there, you'll know it when you taste it.

And I'll leave you with this unsolicited bit: just write. Write often, write about everything, write what makes YOU passionate and happy, and absolutely write for yourself. Edit the fuck out of it, if you need to. Get a beta reader, if you need to. Get someone to just bounce ideas off, if you need to. And don't post it until you're truly ready and it's something you genuinely want to share. If someone gives constructive criticism, take in on the chin and move on (keep the notes, if you think they're valid, and toss em if you don't--you'll never be everyone's style of writer, so know that sometimes, people just won't be the target audience). Know that you'll grow and you'll learn and you'll find your own voice and like any skill, you'll develop a second nature about it--all those parts where I say "you'll know it when you see it" or "you'll feel it" absolutely come from spending a literal lifetime (28 years) writing stories, and thirteen years of writing fanfic in particular. It's ok if you don't see it or feel it right away. It takes practice. And you will have an audience at every skill level, no matter what (finding that audience? different story altogether...).

All totaled, this process can take anywhere from 3months to over a year. Stories are like children, I've found: they each develop at their own pace, and some may need more time and assistance than others. But they're still pretty wonderful. (except the bratty stories. they're the worst 🙄)

[pradaxstyles]

Sunrise Encounters

*not my photo*

hi everyone!!! i’m very excited to share with you my submission for @helladirections Summer Feeling Fic Challenge! my prompt was sunrise! this is my first ever fic challenge and i’m very happy with how this turned out. the masterlist for everyone’s work is here. check them out and send them some love!! i hope you enjoy! also a big thank you to @chxrrylove for helping me out and just being an amazing person. don’t forget to reblog! feedback is always welcome and appreciated 🥰

disclaimer - i don’t know anything about perth, australia. so if it’s not accurate or anything just roll with it, it’s fiction

song i listened to while writing (in case you wanna listen to it) - 5am amber run

word count - 2.7k

warnings - small mentions of being alone and uncertainty about life plans. other than that, nothing major. 

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The cool breeze of the summer air ran through her hair, almost as if it were playing with it. She was sitting in a clearing above Perth. The Australian city was brightly lit, creating little shadows on her cheeks. A million things were running through her mind. She knew it was late, but she enjoyed being out during the early morning hours. There was something about the city during 4 am that she loved. Maybe it was the stillness of it. How the usual bustling city sat quiet and dormant. Or maybe it was the vibrancy of the buildings among the horizon. It showed that even though the city lay still, the beauty of it was everlasting. 

The beach was one of her favorite spots in the city. The openness gave her a sense of peace and calmness. It allowed her to process the thoughts that ran through her mind and just let go for a little while. 

Having just moved to Perth, she wasn’t familiar with many places or people. The one place she felt most at home was the beach, watching the stars. It was something she did back home when the clouds didn’t crowd the dark sky. On the rare nights she couldn’t see the stars, she’d turn to her notebook full of poems. Y/N didn’t dabble in poetry often, but when she did, it acted as a release. It was a release of the emotions she couldn’t get rid of. 

Tonight in particular, there were no clouds in sight to cover the universe’s beauty. Her fingers dragged through the smooth sand as she traced random shapes. A sigh left her lips as she wished she could be back home. Y/N had left behind family, friends, and everything she knew to move to Perth for a “new beginning”. Before the move, she was excited. Y/N was excited to see the world and meet new people. But once she arrived, second thoughts riddled her brain. She wasn’t familiar with the area and didn’t know anyone which put a damper on her mood. 

She came upon the small beach when she first moved. Needing to find an escape from a reality for a bit, she ventured to the streets, looking for a place she could call a home away from home. 

This brings her to today, 4:30 am, sitting on the beach overlooking the city. The colorful beach towel lay underneath her, shielding her body from the sticky grains of sand. Y/N leaned back just enough so she could watch the stars while she was lost in her ocean of thoughts. 

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The beach was also Harry’s favorite place. He had a small house in Perth. He’d come when he needed a break, or simply when he needed a vacation. Harry had stumbled upon the clearing purely by accident. During some nights when he couldn’t sleep, he would go for runs and end up watching the sunrise.

On this specific night, he was wide awake. After a night out with friends to celebrate a win for their favorite sports team, he figured he would sleep nicely. Alas, he laid wide awake in bed staring at the ceiling. Sighing, he yanked the duvet off of his body and sat up. The lights strung along the walls lit up the room just enough so Harry could see the clock across from the bed. He closed his eyes in frustration as the numbers read 4:30 am. 

Figuring he’d start his day, he stood from the warm bed and shuffled over to the closet and slipped on some shorts and a tee shirt. Making his way into the bathroom, he flickered the light on. He reached for his toothbrush, turned the water on and began brushing his teeth. 

He sat on the bed and leaned down to tie his shoes. Moving towards his nightstand, Harry reached for a clip and twisted his curls into place so they wouldn’t fall to his face as he ran. 

Waltzing into the kitchen, he munched on a granola bar and sipped some water before making his way outside. The clearing wasn’t far from his house, he estimated about a mile. Taking a deep breath, he picked up his pace until he was jogging. The air whooshing around him filled his ears as he looked around to take in his surroundings. He was used to jogging this late, but it never hurt to observe the nature around him. 

The thoughts of his life consumed his mind. Harry was unsure of what he wanted to do with his life. His parents were both doctors and his sister went on to be a lawyer. There was always a pressure on him to follow in their footsteps, but he knew deep down that he wanted to do something else. He wanted to do something that inspired people. 

Wherever he was in the world, he often found himself watching the sunrise. Harry realized that wherever he went, the sunrise always looked different. When he was visiting Greece, he found the highest point in Mykonos to watch the sunrise. The sun rose above the water and a beautiful array of colors were put on display. Different shades of purple and pink littered the sky as the sun was saying good morning. Or when he was in Colorado visiting some friends at their mountain house, he was blown away at the beauty the sunrise held. Hues of pink and orange illuminated the skies as the snow on top of the mountains seemed to reflect the colors, it was truly one of his favorite sights. 

It was during his escapades around the world that he discovered his love for the beauty of the world. He enjoyed making art ever since he was younger and it’s something that’s stayed with him as he grew up. Sketching people in the park, or painting the sunrises, he came to the realization that he wanted to paint the world in a way people didn’t often look at it. 

He sighed at the memory, a smile creeping its way onto his lips. He felt at peace with the path ahead of him in life. 

A thin sheet of sweat laid against his tanned skin as he glanced down at the watch on his wrist, 4:40 am. The sun was just starting to peak above the earth as he came up to the beach. Slowing his pace, his gaze fell upon a girl who was sitting on the sand. She looked to be his age, but he couldn’t get a clear look at her face. Harry wondered why she was here so late, there was usually no one at the beach this early. Shrugging it off, he decided to just come back on his way home and not bother the girl. 

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Y/N’s eyes squinted ever so slightly, trying to see the stars as the sun was beginning to rise. Laying down against the towel, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wondered if she’d ever find her place in the world. Y/N wanted to live dangerously. She wanted to go on adventures around the world and immerse herself in different cultures, soaking up all that she could. 

Tapping her phone screen on, the clock on her phone read 4:45 am. Glancing at the sky, she took note of how the stars began to fade as the sun began peeking through the buildings. Along with the stars, she adored watching sunrises. The way the sun brought so much light and warmth as it rose made her feel small in the world, content in a way. 

The sky that was once dark had begun to erupt in hues of pinks and oranges. She sat up, bringing her knees to her chest as she rested her head on them. The sand beneath her was cool, making her shiver slightly.

Above her head, birds soared high and the sounds of their chirps could be heard. Cicadas buzzed and hummed around her. The scene was serene, as if it was something out of a movie. 

Y/N took a deep breath as she admired the changing sky. 

Unbeknownst to her, Harry had come back to the beach. He was contemplating going up and seeing if she was okay or just heading home. He racked his brain, trying to remember if he had seen her before. But he had no idea who she was. Harry wondered how she’d found the beach since it was pretty well hidden from the public. He knew he couldn’t just leave her be without knowing if she was okay or not, so he moved towards the girl. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Harry questioned softly. 

Y/N jumped slightly, unaware there was someone on the beach with her. A hand lay on her chest as she mumbled, “Jesus, you scared me.”

Harry chuckled quietly and moved to sit next to her. He put some distance between himself and the girl, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Stretching his legs out to sit comfortably, he cringed slightly as the sand clung to his exposed legs. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

She glanced at him and noticed his hair was pulled up into a clip and how his forehead glistened with sweat. “What are you doing here so late?” 

“I could ask you the same question. What’s your name?” 

Her lips curved into a small smile, “Y/N, and you are?” 

“Harry.” 

“Well-” she broke her stare from the sky and met his gaze, “it’s nice to meet you, Harry.” 

He smiled slightly and she returned it. A comfortable silence fell over them as they both turned their heads back to the city in front of them. More cars were seen driving down the streets and people walking around. Harry’s watch read 4:55 am, which is the time the sun officially began rising. 

“I’m okay. I just come here some nights to watch the stars and sunrise.” Y/N whispered, breaking the silence. She kept her eyes on the rising sun that had peaked through the tall buildings, casting shadows everywhere. 

Harry’s face softened at her words. After all, he does the same thing when he can’t sleep. “I do, too. I’m surprised we haven’t run into each other more.” His head tilted upwards as he took in the colors that painted the sky. Different shades of pink, purple, and blue covered the sky. Some clouds had rolled in and they reflected the colors beautifully. 

She nodded slightly at his words, before she spoke. “I just moved her from Tennessee. I found the beach while looking for a place to clear my mind. Its been my favorite place ever since, plus you can see the stars beautifully from here.” 

He hummed in agreement. There had been numerous nights when he ended up on the beach stargazing. It was far enough from the city lights that you could still see everything. “That’s cool, I’ve never been to Tennessee before. I’m originally from England.” 

Y/N giggled softly, “I figured, I could tell from your accent.” She glanced at him just as his cheeks started to heat up. The tinge of red could be seen and Harry knew it, his cheeks were on fire. He laughed along with her and sighed.

“What are you doing in Australia?” 

“I’m here for a new beginning, I guess.” 

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, “You guess?” 

He turned his body so that he was facing her now. Her head turned towards him as she observed him with curiosity. Realizing what he was doing, she did the same. The beach towel that was underneath her body was long forgotten as the sand also clung to her legs. The pair was now facing each other and Harry finally got a clear look at Y/N’s face. Her delicate features fit her perfectly. 

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’m not too thrilled about being here since I have no friends at the moment. I don’t even know what I wanna do with my life.” She spoke lowly while laying her head against her propped up knee. 

“You’ve got a friend, you have me.” 

A smile made its way to Y/N lips and she glanced at Harry, who was already looking at her. He thought she was so beautiful. In his eyes, he felt like she represented the sunrise. A new side of her was always on display, and there was so much more for him to learn, so much he wanted to learn. 

“Well, thank you for being my first friend.” Her gaze lingered a bit longer on Harry’s soft features before she turned back to look at the sky. “Thank you for watching the sunrise with me.” 

Harry could have melted on the spot from her words. He just met Y/N but he was prepared to watch every sunrise with her. “No need to thank me, but you’re very welcome.” 

Y/N scooted closer to Harry and he opened an arm to her. His breath hitched as she laid her head against his chest. She didn’t know why or how she felt so comfortable around someone she had just met, but she felt like she’d known him her entire life. Inhaling deeply, Harry moved his arm to her waist and held her tightly. He loved the feeling of her body pressed against his. It felt familiar, it made him feel warm. 

“So..” Y/N began.

“So…” Harry continued 

“Wanna get breakfast?” Y/N twisted herself slightly so that she could look up at Harry. He glanced down at her and his tummy erupted with butterflies. 

“Of course we can get breakfast. Anywhere specific you would like to go?” 

She shook her head, “I don’t know any good places around here. You seem like you’ve got good taste, you choose where we go.” 

He chuckled at her statement, “Hm, well what are you in the mood for?” 

Y/N thought about it. Back in Tennessee, there was an amazing crepe place by her house. Her and some friends would get breakfast there every Friday before school. She smiled fondly at the memory and made her decision. 

“Are there any crepe places around here?” 

Harry thought for a moment, “Yeah there is. Do you wanna get some crepes?” 

Crepes were Harry’s favorite breakfast, but he wouldn’t admit it out loud. 

“I do, only if you like crepes though. We could always go somewhere else.” 

“No no, we’re going to get crepes. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.” Harry moved to stand. Dusting off his pants, he reached a hand down for Y/N. 

Y/N was too distracted by his comment to realize his outstretched hand. Harry noticed her red cheeks and smiled to himself. 

“Come on, we can walk back to mine and I’ll drive.” Harry said. 

She placed her smaller hand in his and felt sparks fly through her body. He pulled her up and she grabbed her towel that was left in the sand. “Sounds like a plan.” 

Harry smiled sweetly and Y/N shot him a toothy grin. 

Y/N was thankful she found herself at the beach. If she didn’t feel the need for an escape, she would’ve never met Harry. She could already tell they were going to be best friends. Who knows, maybe she’ll bring him back to Tennessee. 

For once, Harry was happy he couldn’t sleep. He was also happy he knew of the beach. Y/N was like a breath of fresh air. She felt real, like she didn’t care about what anyone had to say. She was the friend he was looking for, someone who he could feel free with. 

The pair walked together, hand in hand, back to Harry’s house. The sun was a bit higher in the sky now, but the remnants of orange and pink could still be seen. Birds were busy chirping high in the trees and people were on their way to work. 

With the promise to watch the sunrise together the next morning, Harry and Y/N both felt giddy about the day to come.

[desertedcorridors]

Morning Person

I woke up at 7:14 again today. I’ve always wanted to become a morning person. Not the ones that wake up at dawn to go running or get a headstart on the workday, but the ones who wake just in time to lay there, that brief juncture in the almost-day when the light is golden and still innocent, pliable enough to mold, when the tendrils of sleep take their time loosening their hold. I like to think I can cut through this softness like butter, run my hands through it, pack it into a little cube and pocket some for night. Of course, I’ve never been a morning person. I wish I was. I never wake up in time. 

I can’t remember the exact moment I decided I couldn’t stand to sleep in my own room anymore. Springtime in Lahore means dusting off the ceiling fans in mid March. I had started sleeping horizontally on my bed so I could be directly under the cool air. When I woke up one morning I found that someone had filled my bones with cement and suspended me in a sunbeam. I’m not sure what made that particular day so defining. It wasn’t a new feeling, this heaviness in me weighing down my mattress. It wasn’t even an oh, there it is again feeling. When I think of the word constant I try to rack my brain for emotions, people, anything to remind myself that I am wanted, that I am anticipated. Nothing comes to mind. Nothing except the familiarity of my own expendability. When you have hollow bones it’s inevitable that someone will want to anchor you like a bird to a cage. I tired myself out a long time ago. I’ve never been one to fight back; it’s one of my mother’s favorite things about me. That morning I felt strange, like I was intruding on an intimate moment between the sun and the eggshell white of my walls, like I wasn’t meant to see the behind the scenes. I was acutely reminded of the feeling of walking into a room you don’t belong in, the heads of strangers swiveling around to look you up and down before returning to their business. I felt shame prickle through my scalp in a wave. My room aglow with the yellow filtering through my curtains, childlike and pure, my body a deadweight, supine and useless, lips cracking in the recycled air, I looked at the clock. 7:14. So this is it, I thought. This is what I’ve been waiting for. I wanted to go back to sleep with a desperation so intense it numbed my toes and curled my fingers. My room looked beautiful and alive and determined to set me on fire. I felt its smirk against my throat as it settled its weight on my chest and pressed me into the bed. I thought, leave it to me to turn beautiful things evil. That night, blanket and pillow in hand, I knocked on my mother’s door. 

The sun rises differently in my mother’s room. When it wakes me up at 7:14 again, it has the decency to look apologetic, remorseful. I decide to have mercy. Next to me my mother is folded into the cocoon of sleep. I tamp down my envy and inch closer. When she puts an arm around me and strokes my hair I fake my breathing. I tell myself I can cry later. The intimacy that lives confined in this hour of undiluted quiet is too pure for someone as polluted with guilt as I am.  I’m supposed to say something in this moment, I know I am. Sometimes I think I’ve spent my whole life trying to find the right thing to say. One day I’ll wake up and my lips will be gone, the top of my throat sealed shut. I’ll know I deserve it, I’ll know that only people with things to say deserve voices. I have nothing to say. With my face turned into the mattress I can almost convince myself I’m here simply because I was bored, not because my loneliness is a clawed hand around my ankle, not because I’ve made a villain of the sun and my room and time itself and fear is a wave cresting outside my window.  I can almost convince myself that my self loathing is contained in the room I’ve left behind. In this new room where the sun is more forgiving and my mother’s arm is a shield I cower behind, I can convince myself I’m safe. The ticking of the clock mocks me. 

I can feel the wave catching up to me.

Once, in a fit of desperate rage, I thought maybe I could outsmart time. That night I didn’t sleep till 5am, until my eyes were begging me for release. I thought surely this would mean I would sleep in until noon at least. When I woke up the next morning, wide awake and smug, the light was all wrong. It was too bright and the room was too humid. I looked at the clock. 7:14. I could feel the sun shake its head in pity, felt the clock narrow its eyes in annoyance. I conceded. As I lay there, limp and exhausted, I began listing all the adjectives I could think of to describe the light at 7:14. Soft. Supple. Ethereal. Tender. Tangible. Ephemeral. Blinding. Desolate. Lonely. Desperate. Gone. Desperate. Desperate. My head started hurting.

A couple years back when my migraines got really bad, I went in for an MRI. I remember the frustration I felt when the doctor said there was nothing wrong with me, the desperation of wanting her to stick a label on the issue and file it away as a problem solved. I wanted her to tell me what I already knew: that the migraines came from the same heaviness that pressed me into my bed every morning. I wanted her to stick her hands in her white coat and tell me not to worry, there’s a very simple solution to this, we’ll send you into emergency surgery and hollow your bones out again and then you’ll be as good as new. Instead she told me to take it easy and stay hydrated. On the way home the sun was white hot. I’ve always found it weird that when I have a good day, I go to bed with a headache. It’s important to note here that a headache is not a migraine. I never understood these headaches; maybe they came from laughing too hard, or smiling for too long. On these days I think my heart pumps blood differently, like it’s so relieved to find a reason to beat again that it works overtime to compensate for all the days I let it sit in my chest and harden. I like the idea of giving my poor heart a purpose, the way it trips over itself trying to butter me up. When I hold two fingers up to the side of my throat, my skin feels alien, the veins underneath pounding out a code of don’t let us forget this feeling again. I send back an apology in advance. I can’t remember the last time I got a headache.

Tonight my dinner congealed like wet sand on my gums. But it’s night, I thought, I’m supposed to be okay, at least for now. I dared to look at the clock. 7:14. Is nowhere safe? There was a time when I didn’t know how to read clocks. There was a time when I chided myself for never waking up before noon. I don’t know when I started being afraid of the sun. I don’t know how to stop. 

[cherryeol04]

Breathe

Summary: Being haunted sucks, but luckily you have the hottest group around to make sure you stay safe.

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: a ghost trying to kill you // choking

A/N: Based off a dream I had and I wrote it at 5am. I think it’s time I watch happy things when I go to bed, oh my gosh! Lol I’m tagging @channiesmixtape cause I need to see her reaction. Hope you all enjoy! 🥰

It always felt like a dream after it happened. The pressure around your neck releasing the moment Chan’s arms were wrapped around you and you broke down into sobs. It was always bittersweet to feel the rush of air invading your lungs and knowing you were finally safe, but never knowing the true cause for your torment. Why did this always happen to you and how could you make it stop? They were questions that were always left unanswered and in some ways, that was a good thing. Did you honestly want to know what was haunting you? Or was it better to be blissfully unaware and just continue to let other people think it was a simple “medical condition”?

The recent spike in these choking incidents were worrying you beyond belief and you were afraid that if you were alone, it would happen and there would be no one there to help you. To protect you. For some reason they never happened while someone else was with you. A part of you is sure that’s why it had never happened prior to your 23rd birthday - having lived with your parents while attending university because it was just cheaper that way. And now that you were on your own, it seemed like everything was out to kill you, even though it was clearly only one thing. A being; unseen to the naked eye but its presence always felt and its intent crystal clear - your death.

In hindsight, you were pretty glad Chan shared the information with his friends, even if it upset that you he did it behind your back. He was just looking out for you. And after a very awkward and skeptical conversation, for the most part everyone seemed to believe you and they were willing to be ‘on call’ at a moments noticed. It sucked that Chan couldn’t always be there for you, but the other boys seemed to do the trick just as well. You were safe as long as someone was with you.

———

“Y/n~~~” Changbin whined out as he noticed you heading to the door of the studio. “Where are you going?”

“To the restroom.” You laughed as he whined out louder.

“Hurry up! I need you to listen to this song!”

“Have Jisung listen to it.”

“He already has and he hates it. I need a second opinion! Hurry up!”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled as you opened the door. “Alright alright. I’ll be right back.” Leaving the studio, you make the quick walk down the hall to the restroom and inside. You were only inside for a couple of minutes, but it was long enough for the sense of safety and warmth that being with 3racha gave slowly faded away - replaced by that ever familiar of dread and being watched. Drying off your hands, you made a hasty exit, intent to just run back to the safety of the room, but the moment you stepped out of the bathroom terror gripped you in an all too familiar way.

The closing pressure around your neck had you grasping at air and clawing at skin. It felt like a cold hand pressing hard, cutting off your airway. You struggled to breathe, to swallow - to even think. You needed help. You needed Chan. “Channie!” You croaked reflexively, even though you were no where near him. It took all your concentration and effort to make your legs work, stumbling down the hall in an effort to make it back to the room. Your hands gripped the smooth white wall, feeling so surreal under your touch. Everything was too bright and it was getting harder to breathe. It was struggle to even form words, yet alone keep calling out for Chan, and yet somehow you managed to still do so.

“Channie please! Channie!” Logically you knew he couldn’t hear you from within the studio, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing and your brain to panic. Why wasn’t he there?! Why didn’t he hear you? Did he not care anymore? With fumbling steps, your hand finally brushed against a door, knocking into a handle and you scrambled to grab it and press down. You felt weak, and you weren’t sure if you could manage to get the door open. Through the anxiety and fear, you could hear the telltale click of the handle and you pushed the door open quickly.

There was a small rush of relief as 3 bodies came into view, yet the hand didn’t remove itself. In fact it only seemed to tighten now that you were back in the studio. Was this the end? You were so scared it was as it almost became impossible to breathe. And with one last ditch effort, you cried out again. “Channie!”

It felt like a whisper had left your lips, not nearly loud enough to get anyone’s attention. Yet the way the other three jolted in their chairs and looked over towards you made you realize that your voice had probably been louder than it needed to be, thankfully. The looks on their faces matched how you felt. Terrified, panic stricken and knocking on death’s door as your legs finally started to give out under you - your sight going black around the edges as the lack of oxygen was finally taking affect.

“Y/n!” Everything felt like it was slow motion and yet fast at the same time. Chan was there, his arms wrapping around you and the grip around your neck disappeared. You gasped loudly, body shaking as you struggled to breathe and cry at the same time - meeting somewhere in the middle of chokes coughs as your arms wound themselves tightly around Chan’s neck. Your fingers dug painfully into his back as you clung to him, his hands rubbing gentle circles against your back.

“It’s okay baby. I got you.” His voice filtered through the disgusting sobs you were letting out. Gently, he rocked you back and forth and as the fire in your lungs was finally put out, you collapsed against him - weak. He shifted you closer, one hand resting against the back of your neck, the other gripping at your waist tightly as he stood, lifting you as well. “Come on, baby girl.” He urged and with great effort you managed to wrap your legs around his waist. He carried you back to his chair, sitting down carefully and adjusting you in his lap until you were both comfortable. You leaned against his chest, head resting on his shoulder with your face buried in his neck. You took in the musky scent of his cologne and natural smell and it helped to calm you down further.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” Jisung asked gently, voice so soft it was almost like he was afraid that talking would ruin whatever peace had finally settled over you. His hand gently rested on your leg, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Lifting your head, you gave a small nod and forced a smile before dropping back onto Chan’s shoulder. “I’m fine.” You whispered softly.

“Y/n.” Changbin called out carefully and you hummed in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry, for not believing you before.” This time you didn’t have to force the smile.

“Thank you, Binnie.” Your voice was weak, horse and you hated how it sounded. Hated that for the next few hours it was going to be a reminder of the terrifying attack you had to go through. “I wish had been lying the whole time. I wish this wasn’t...r-real.” You cracked, breaking down again as you clutched at Chan’s shirt - crying into his neck once more.

“It’s okay baby girl.” Chan whispered. “We’re here. We got you.” It was sweet, the reassurance. And it did make you feel better. But there was still that heavy around you. While Chan whispered calming words, the one thing he never promised you was that it would be alright. Because it wasn’t alright. It would never be alright. You just wished it would all stop.

[mysteryartisticwriter]

The Siren // Jack Kline X Reader

A/N: I really wish they did more with sirens because they were some of my favorite monsters and mine would honestly take the form of Tom Holland lmfao. I got this amazing request so I hope you guys enjoy!

TAKES PLACE MIDDLE OF SEASON 13 (CAS IS ALIVE AND JACK IS WITH THEM)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW

Requested: Yes // hello there! so you remember sirens that could take the form of your perfect guy or whatever? do you think you could write something where me and the boys are hunting a siren and it takes the form of jack?? if you cant then it’s completely fine! thx!!

Warnings: Blood, dead ugly body, almost killing the jackaboy

Not my gif!! (Please tell me if you, the owner, would like me to take the gif down!)

-

The hunt was supposed to be quick and painless. Nothing to worry about. A siren had gone loose in a town in Wyoming so the five of you went to go after it.

You’ve only encountered a siren once before and it was not pretty. The victim almost sliced you in half because of it, but luckily Sam managed to finish it off.

This time, it was not so easy. The last victim was already dead so the boys sent you out as bait to lure in the monster, much to Jack’s dismay.

“I don’t understand why (Y/n) must act as bait. Can’t we just use another method?” Jack asked.

Dean sighed. “Listen kid, (Y/n) willingly chose to be bait. It isn’t gonna take long so just calm down.”

“It’s okay, Jack.” You smiled to him. “I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

Hesitantly, your best friend went along with it.

The plan was that you would head into a bar and wait there for an attractive person to approach you, that being the siren, then you would lure it out to an alleyway so the boys could kill it.

It was going pretty well so far. The bar was filled with several people but no one (besides a couple of dudes) had come up to you yet. You sighed as you downed your third shot of the night.

You took out your phone and began to text the boys - who waited outside - that the siren was probably not even at the bar. The whole night practically being a waste.

But a tap on your shoulder got your attention so you turned to find Jack standing there.

“Hello (Y/n).” He had his regular cute smile.

“Jack? What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be waiting with the guys outside?” You asked him, confused.

Jack just lightly chuckled.

“I was but...I just couldn’t wait any longer.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Wait for what?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you but I didn’t want to say it in front of the others.”

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’re best friends, remember?”

“That’s what I want to change. I’m-I’m in love with you, (Y/n). I want to spent the rest of my life with you and live every single moment with you!” He confessed.

You were definitely shocked to say the least. Jack was always your best friend, someone you could always count on forever but...a part of you thought you two could always be more.

“Jack...I-I don’t even know what to say...” You trailed off, trying to find the right words to explain how you felt.

“You don’t need to say anything.”

With that, Jack leaned forward and connected your two pairs of lips together. You closed your eyes and tugged on his shirt to bring him even closer to you.

Jack surprised you by pushing his tongue into your mouth. You were startled but instantly replied back by doing the same thing to him. Your kiss only lasted for a few moments but you wanted it to last forever, you basically whined when he released your lips.

Jack chuckled. “We can do more of that after this, okay?”

You nodded, dreamily.

“But there’s one more thing left to do. And I need you to finish it before we live the rest of our lives together.” Jack’s eyes were serious.

“Anything. I’ll make sure everything is perfect for us, Jack.” You told him.

“You still need to kill the siren. Don’t worry, the others tracked him down but you need to kill it before it kills me or you.” Jack held your hands in his own. “You love me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then you have to kill the siren. It’ll look just like me but don’t be fooled, it’s just the siren playing tricks on you! And if you need to, get rid of anyone who stands in the way.”

You nodded numbly at every word he was saying, your mind still wrapped around the love of your life.

“I will, Jack. I’ll kill the siren and everyone else who stands in the way of our love!”

-

Jack, Castiel and the Winchesters waited for any text to indicate that you were leaving the bar or anything of the siren.

Jack stood impatiently in his spot, worried about you.

“We shouldn’t have let her go in there alone. One of us should have stayed with her.” Jack said anxiously.

“(Y/n) can take care of herself, I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.” Sam tried to comfort him.

Jack was about to reply when he saw you exiting the bar. You turned into the alleyway you were supposed to lead the siren to but no one else followed. Concerned, Jack went after you and ignored the calls from his father and friends.

Once he saw you, Jack called out, “(Y/n)!”

You slowly turned around and saw Jack- or the siren as you thought.

“I was very worried about you. You were in there for almost two hours and 38 minutes so I was afraid something happened to you. Where is the siren?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, siren.” You sneered at him.

“What? I’m not the-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you lunged at Jack with your bronze dagger. You went to stab him again but he kept managing to dodge all of your attacks.

You began to grow angry and frustrated with him. You just wanted to kill it and go on with your life with Jack. But the siren/Jack was not letting you have it.

By now, the three older men had caught up to you two and Cas managed to push you away.

“Cas, what are you doing? I need to kill the siren!” You exclaimed, feeling betrayed by your friend.

“That is not the siren. You are infected by the siren’s venom. Snap out of it!”

“Oh, I’m afraid she really can’t.”

The four men turned to see the siren as Jack at the end of the alleyway. He was smirking and the real Jack growled at the imposter.

“Kill them, (Y/n). So we can finally be safe and together.” The siren said softly.

You nodded with determination and began to charge towards Cas and Jack while the two brothers took care of the siren.

You continued to try to stab and kill Jack without even realizing it. Almost coming close several times. Jack just blocked and dodged your attacks, not wanting to hurt you with his powers.

“(Y/n)! It’s me, Jack!”

“Liar! You can’t trick me!”

You slashed your knife to him again, cutting the front of his shirt. It was a big cut but luckily, there was no blood.

“Jack!” Jack turned to Dean. “We need her blood!”

Nodding to elder Winchester, Jack blocked one more knife swipe at him and captured your wrist in his hand. As much as he didn’t want to, Jack put two fingers to your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” He said as you fell back to the cement.

Castiel took your broze dagger and cut open your palm to take a good amount of your blood. He then tossed the dagger to Dean, and with Sam holding down the siren, it didn’t take long for Dean to kill the siren at last.

After he was sure it was dead, Jack set two fingers to your head again to wake you. As you came to, you held your head in your hands, a minor headache came as you tried to sit up. Jack helped you stand as your mind came back to its original haze.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked.

“Besides being a little confused, I think I’m okay.” You smiled lightly.

“The siren had infected you when it took the form of Jack. I presume you understand the rest?” Cas began to explain.

You winced a bit at the memories that came flooding back.

“At least I didn’t do too much damage on the two of you...right?”

“Welp, maybe a good dinner and some rest at the motel with be good for all of us. I’m thinking of burgers!” Dean suggested.

“You always want burgers.” Sam began to tell Dean as the two of them left the alleyway.

“I will dispose of the siren’s body. I will meet you at the motel.” Cas said, the sound of wings flying and the gross, dried up siren body was gone.

You and Jack stood together in the alleyway in silence, not really knowing what to say.

“You love me?” Jack questioned out of the blue.

You hesitated before answering. “Yes, I do. Or, at least I think I do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Before the siren, I was confused on how I felt towards you before I loved having as you as a best friend but I also felt something more than that. I was afraid to tell you because, well...relationships in this life aren’t exactly the greatest.”

You turned away from Jack until he took your shoulders by his hands and crashed his lips onto yours. You sunk into the kiss right away, almost just like with the siren but this time, the kiss felt different; more real.

The kiss was simple and sweet, nothing like whatever you did with the monster. You could feel almost all your worries melt away.

Jack pulled away and leaned his forehead against your own. You were grinning like crazy and your heart was bursting inside. Although you couldn’t see or feel it, Jack’s was doing the same.

“I was confused too. When you volunteered to be the bait, I was scared and new feelings came to me. I now know what those feelings are now.”

“And what are those feelings?”

You already knew the answer, but you just wanted to hear it. Jack’s piercing eyes stared back into yours.

“Love.”

-

A/N: I just randomly wrote this on the spot at almost 5am hahahaha death, saty home and safe loves!

Lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my Supernatural stories!

TAGGED:

@shortwinchester

@coltcas

@urlaslongasafalloutboysongtitle

@irinazatyk

@meadow-melody

[its-always-the-witching-hour]

Chapter 1 of Apocalyptic AU - Sanders Sides

This is way longer than I intended it to be, and it’s only chapter one. I don’t have a name for it yet, but I’ll come up with one soon.

Word count - 1643

Pairings - None (yet)

Warnings - (Spoilers) Zombies, blood, guts, the undead, being left alone, death, disease, summoning rituals - Tag anything I missed

Characters - Virgil Sanders, Deceit (Devan) Sanders, Remus Sanders

Next chapter

---

Everyone had called his parents crazy, and conspiracy theorists, but now they probably wished they had listened to them. It was month 4 of the apocalypse, and Virgil was probably the only survivor. The outbreak had started with what seemed like a new disease, one that was extremely contagious but harmless, and put the infected person into a sleepwalker like stupor that lasted for days. At first, things just continued like normal, with people still going to work and school, and traveling around the globe, but Virgil’s parents hadn’t bought it. They had locked him from the outside and inside in a bomb-proof bunker, stocked with enough food to last a person a year. They refused to join him, though, and instead attempted to figure out where the disease had originated from. The days down in the bunker were long, but not that boring, due to the fact that there were at least three charging points for electronic devices on each wall, and a tv to keep connected to the outside world, not to mention the bookshelf with all of Virgil’s favorite books in it. He thought that the whole thing was an over-reaction at first, but still got some pleasure out of it, mainly because he now had a valid excuse not to turn up to school, as he was locked in his crazy parent’s basement. Then the disease went into its second stage.

Everyone who had been infected once, or was still suffering from it just collapsed onto the ground. Scans of the bodies showed that their brains had just stopped functioning, and nothing that was done could bring them back. There were too many funerals that week. A week after every dead body was buried, stage three started. People walking past or paying their respects to the dead reported scratching sounds from the graveyards. The government and police dismissed it as a Halloween prank – as it was October at the time – and stated publicly that there was no point looking into it further. Then, the voices started. At first, it just sounded like the wind ripping through the leaves of trees, until people realized that there was no wind, and hadn’t been for weeks. The unexplained chattering noises became the root of many dares that week, and police had to stop many people, young and old, from doing stupid things like digging up the bodies, or chanting so-called ‘summoning rituals’ and trying to connect to the ghosts of the dead. And then, about a month after the disease was first discovered, all hell broke loose, literally.

A report to the police had told them that a man was walking strangely along the pavement outside their house, and they suspected that they were illegally drunk in public. However, when the police arrived, they found a man covered in dirt, mud and grass. Both of his hands had sizeable splinters sticking out of them, and a few fingers dangled as though they were broken, but there was no blood. He walked with a shambling gait, looking like he had broken at least one of his legs. One policeman approached him, to see if they needed to call an ambulance, and the rest, well the rest was recorded by a camera crew doing one of those police documentaries for TV. The horrifying video, which was aired on every station in the world, started off with the policeman approaching the man and asking him ‘Are you okay’. When the man didn’t respond, the policeman tried again, each time moving closer to the man, until he put his hand on the man’s shoulder. With a creepy, unhinged look, the man turned slowly towards the policeman, who seemed happy to get a response out of him at last. The man flew at the policeman, shoving him to the ground and sinking his teeth into his arm. The policeman screamed in agony, then his head flopped back against the pavement.

After that video, Virgil’s parents re-enforced the door with twice as many locks, and for once he was glad that his parents always thought the worst was going to happen. Even days after the video came out, Virgil was still having trouble sleeping, so at 3am, when it happened, he heard everything. It started off with a banging on the front door, but nobody took any notice of that, because their house was pretty old, and weird noises appeared almost every night. As soon as the groaning and mumbling bubbled up, Virgil knew his parents were going to die. He huddled under the weighted blankets of his bed, silent tears running down his face as he listened to his parent’s screams. A couple of times, the zombies banged on the door to his bunker, trying to find a way to get in, but it was built too well. They left around 5am, leaving Virgil alone in a now broken home.

That happened 2 months ago, and Virgil hasn’t heard a thing since. The TV in his room doesn’t work, because there is nobody left to air anything, and the electronic generator has been slowly running out of energy. Every book on the shelf has been read for at least three times, and food and water levels were running low. He knew that his slow and painful death from starvation or dehydration was about to begin. All he could do was just try and ration the remaining supplies he had left, and sleep. When he heard the noises, it was no wonder he thought the zombies had returned. Then, he heard their voices.

“Try this one.”

“I can’t it’s locked.”

“Oh. Well this one is empty. Looks like someone beat us to it.”

A pause, then, closer to the door of the bunker,

“Hey, look at this. What do ya reckon it is?”

“Pictures of… paranormal activity?”

“Woah. This one’s really cool. Look at all the organs on the floor.”

“I think I know who lived here…”

“Yeah? Who?”

“Those weird scientists that were convinced that the world was going to end soon.”

“Well, looks like they were right after all.”

A small bout of harsh laughter with no humor behind it caused Virgil to retreat further back into the safety of his bed, his heart pounding.

“Hey, didn’t they have a kid?”

“Yes, a son, I’m pretty sure. He went to our school, I think, but we’ve never seen him around because when anything remotely strange happened, his parents locked him up for days. Wait Remus don’t –”

A loud crash echoed through the house as ‘Remus’ knocked over something.

“I’m fine, stop fussing Dee. Was there a door here before?”

“A what?”

“Look, it’s like a safe door! But with a thousand more locks!”

“Interesting. Perhaps there’s more food inside.”

“Or bodies!”

“Why am I friends with you?”

“Because I’m the only one left alive apart from you.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“Aw, you know you looooove me.”

“Quit being weird and help me open this door.”

Virgil could hear them unlatching locks, and then, alarmingly, the door to his bunker began to shake. He let out an audible gasp, thankful that he kept the inside of the door locked in fear that the zombies would figure out how to open the outside locks.

“Huh, I think it’s locked on the inside as well.”

“But how, unless…”

There was a moment of terrified silence for Virgil, then the voices started speaking again, not to each other this time, but to Virgil.

“Hey, if there’s anyone in there, we won’t hurt you.”

“Yeah, we’re nice people, really, and also… we might be the only other people left.”

“Please open the door, if you need it, we can help you.”

Taking a deep breath, Virgil realized that they were his best chance at surviving, even if it meant leaving his safe haven, he would have to go with them. Steeling himself for what would lay behind it, he opened the door.

Standing in front of him were two boys of a similar age to him. One was wearing an interesting black cloak around his shoulders, fastened with a golden chain. The shirt he wore under it was plain grey, and he had jeans on. Half of his face was covered in dirty bandages, and he had a slightly surprised look, as if he hadn’t expected the door to actually open. The other boy had a dark green parker jacket on, and shorts, which made an interesting combo. His hair was extremely messy, with twigs and clumps of dried mud in it. He had a wide-eyed smile, that almost made him look crazy. Virgil regretted opening the door immediately.

“Hey…” the one in the cloak stepped forwards slowly, wincing as Virgil backed up nervously at the movement. “Don’t worry; we’re not going to hurt you. I’m Devan, but you can call me Dee, and that idiot over there is Remus.” Remus gave an energetic wave as he peered past Virgil into the bunker.

“I-I’m Virgil,” Virgil whispered, “and don’t bother looking in there for food; it’s nearly run out. I do have some medical kits if you need it.” He directed the last one at Dee, who touched the bandage on his face self-consciously.

“That… would help.” He admitted, sending an exasperated look at Remus as the energetic one glanced over at Devan, worry clear on his face, “I’m fine, Remus. It just… hurts sometimes.”

“Okay, but you need to let me know if it opens up again. I can help you, ya know.”

Unsure of what to do at this moment, Virgil retreated back into his bunker, then came out moments later carrying a bundle of blankets.

“Here,” He mumbled, offering the bundle to the other two, “This will hopefully have enough stuff to keep us going.”

“Us?” Devan asked.

“Yes, I’m coming with you.”

[ziracona]

And I hate to do this- So on that thread, not that he's as bad, why do you think Michael is redeemable? (and also Frank) Especially by his main victim? :? I hope that isn't as bad or as judgmental as I think it sounds... - Sleepy (its like 5am here :3 living up to my name i see)

So, these I gave a short and a long answer for under cut, but forgot I’m on mobile and can’t do that. I can tag it “long post” but uhhh, sorry about this. Anyway, thats why Frank comes in two chunks. I wrote it expecting to be able to use a read more. :’-] also ya fine. And I hope you’re in bed 🤣 now. Okay so. Here’s my reasons:

For Michael, to start, Halloween is complicated af. You have to know what timeline people are talking about, because there are like 8+ and Michael has been written as a wildly different character by wildly different content creators, and I would not feel the same ways towards them all. They’re not the same character. When I talk about Michael, unless I’m going on about a specific other film, I mean either H20 canon, or DbD canon, which are in line with each other when it comes to characterization. (This also includes Halloween’s 1 & 2 in the H20 line, and Halloween 1 at least in DbD). In those timelines, Michael has like at best 2% agency and choice in his own life and what he becomes. That’s why I am sympathetic. I still root for Laurie to nail his ass to the wall of course, and everything he has done to hurt someone isn’t okay just because his life is unfair & awful & out of his control, but I still find him a very tragic character. He was canonically suffering violent psychosis his parents refused him treatment for, isolated with a monster as his doctor & only human contact for 15 years from age 6 on, overdosed on medications that when OD’d worsen psychosis symptoms and can cause permanent brain damage, and stuck like that until escaping briefly when he turned 21.

In Halloween canon, Michael tells his parents he hears voices telling him to do bad things like hurt people, but they tell him he is imagining stuff, and ignore his attempts to get help. The voices say they will be quiet, which is what he desperately wants, if he kills his sister Judith. So he does, at age six. Scientifically speaking, that’s literally too young to really have a complete grasp on death and mortality itself, let alone complex ethics. He immediately goes to his parents after doing the deed, so they can do whatever they need to do. Instead of getting him help, he is sentenced to 15 years in a 1960s American sanitorium (hell), until he turns 21 and can be tried for murder as an adult (fucking ridiculous and unfair?? Tried as an adult is for like, upper teens who commit heinous murders. How tf you justify trying a six year old literally too young to really understand murder as an adult for murdering someone??). They give him to Dr. Sam Loomis, a fucking horrible person, who says he spends 8 years trying to help Michael (a fkn lie), but canonically by only a few months of meeting the kid is thoroughly convinced he is evil, the devil or a demon in human form, faking his psychosis and side effect symptoms (trauma induced mutism from killing his sister, onset of catatonia/motion loss symptoms, etc, all of which are common with his disorder & trauma), desperate to kill again, and an evil mastermind doing the devil’s work, and says so. Spends four hours every day accusing Michael as a six year old child on, of planning to do horrible things and faking his illness and being a demon and not a human, and Loomis, from age 6 to 21, is this kid’s only human contact. And the staff knew it and how wrong and disturbed Loomis was, but did nothing. So from age 6 to 21—barring one or two visits from his mom & Laurie before his dad beat 4 year old Laurie for saying Michael’s, who he hated after Judith’s death, name—until she trauma blocked out having had a brother or sister at all, and then both parents died in a car crash—his only human contact in complete isolation was an adult man who told him for four hours a day he was an evil lying demon faking his symptoms and plotting murder and not a human and promised he would kill Michael and stop him, from childhood on, and that was it. He was never given an understanding of what was medically wrong with him, or that anything was at all. He was threatened and abused and kept overdosed on drugs for 15 years since early childhood, and his only understanding of the world taught in that absolute isolation, was that he was a demon who wanted to get out and kill again. And the violent psychosis, telling him if he killed both sisters, they would go away and leave him in peace with no more constant noise. With no normal understanding of the world or people or life like he was owed ever given to him, no understanding at all of what you were going through or were aside from the promise drilled into your head you were a monster who wanted to kill every day for 15 years while drugged up? Like, I’m a firm believe people are responsible for their own actions, but in a case as extreme as that, honestly, how else was that ever going to even be able to end? You forget, as a child. Who you used to be. That’s beyond grooming even, it’s being grown in a lab for the sole purpose of someday walking out, taking a large kitchen knife, and killing Laurie Strode. And it’s tragic. It’s unfair. Halloween is a tragedy, not a horror film. It didn’t have to be that way. He wanted help. He asked for help. Loomis is directly and pretty much solely responsible for the lives lost in 1978. You know he won’t even call Michael “him”? The only human he contact he had since age six on called him “it.” And no one stopped any of that. And even then. Even then, even with all that. With the drugs, and the lab grown killer, and all of it? Michael is pretty much the single least sadistic slasher killer there /is/.

Everyone he kills in Halloween? He kills fast. It’s actually kind of boring if you’re expecting a scary slasher, because there’s no chase until Laurie. He just appears, runs you through, and you die. Very fast. And if there is any emotion expressed towards the act of killing or aftermath, it’s not pleasure or hate or happiness, it’s curiosity, because literally everything is something he wasn’t allowed to experience growing up and just has no practical experience with yet. And on top of all that, he also just doesn’t kill people he doesn’t have to. He kills one man for clothes, kills Annie to re-do Judith’s murder since it didn’t work the first time and he needs both sisters for the voices to stop, and he kills Bob and Lynda becuase they stumble onto where he is & are a threat to success. (This + Judith 15 years prior is all the deaths in Halloween period, btw). Michael routinely only kills his target, and anyone who is a threat to success. Literally doesn’t even jump out to kill Bob or attack until Bob opens the door to the closet he was hiding in, and he has been seen. Walks past a security guard and lets him go in H20 becuase he doesn’t see him, steals keys from a mom with her 4 year old kid and doesn’t even hurt them because they don’t see him really either, steals a knife from an old lady making a sandwich who is one foot away but looking the other direction, so he lets her go. Even with all the possible stakes against him, really, Michael is like, the least cruel and most sympathetic and merciful version of that lab grown killer possible, which can only be a testament to the person he was initially/still somehow has managed to keep faint traces of alive inside.

As for Laurie finding him redeemable, answer is threefold I guess, and I’ll start with the most important. 1: in Halloween canon, Laurie cares for Michael and is incredibly sad about what he turned into and wishes he could be different (once she remembers who he is). That’s established canon, not a choice of mine. In Halloween 2, she tries to talk him down before shooting him, and he hesitates when she says his name and lowers his weapon for a moment. In H20, she talks about him a lot & even asks her boyfriend (a psychologist) if he thinks something so traumatic can happen to someone that they can never recover, bc even though she hasn’t seen him in 20 years, he’s still on her heart. She hesitates to kill him once she has him helpless in the finale, and when he reaches out for her hand, she almost cries and starts to reach back because it’s what she has truly wanted for so long. 2: Michael & Laurie are siblings, and that’s a very important relationship to me. Obviously, there’s lines where you cross, it’s fkn over, but it is special, and I’m weak for it. They were both cheated of the good family life they could have had, and I like characters I care for getting recovery and rehabilitation, and I would like them to be able to recover and have whatever fragments of the lives they wanted which are still possible. And then 3: Laurie is his victim, but they’re also both victims of Loomis, and the system, and her parents, and if she does /wish/ for him to be okay and things to be like they were, which was canon before me, so she does, then I think them finding happiness and her relief and new hope in regained family and him redemption and rehabilitation through the quite literally only person he has /ever/ known who treated him well or like even a human at all & is still living, that’s so good. It’s sweet, and it makes sense. I like broken people putting the pieces together and finding ways to be okay. None of the shit that happened to either of them was okay, and Michael sure did fucking do it, but it’s about as “it’s complicated” as literally possible, and Laurie wants him to be her brother again, and Michael deserves a chance to experience personhood enough to want anything like that again too, and I think it’s sweet. To be able to find happiness and peace and a new life in that rubble. It shouldn’t be possible, because Halloween is a tragedy that never gets a happy ending, no matter how many timelines they create or versions they tell, but I wish it could have one. It needs one. At least one, among all the fated tragedies for those two cruelly cursed siblings. They both had their lives stolen. Michael by Loomis, and Laurie by Michael. And I want them to find those stolen lives again. And if they can do it together, that’s a very odd and unusual set of circumstances for that kind of thing, but it’s a very complete way to tell the story. He tried to kill her, but if she asked him to stop and he stopped, if he himself chose to change on his own, when it really, really mattered—decided that it was what he wanted more than all the things he was before, and she decided that was enough, and they could both have a future as family? I like that. It’s a happy ending stolen back.

Long Frank Answer, in case you /have/ read ILM & thus short answer did not answer your question: So. Again, for me, I always talk about Frank as in the version of him I myself write, and I wrote ILM before the archives retcon, and also just ignore them because they’re usually dumb and blatantly contradict well established and longstanding canon. Even then, I usually don’t like Frank though—didn’t like him when I started writing ILM. But Frank has very little established canon character. All there is for sure is he was a foster kid that went through some bad stuff, he met Julie and changed his mind about desperately trying to be homed somewhere other than with Clive bc he liked Julie a lot, he met Susie and Joey, they became a gang chilling in Ormond’s abandoned lodge, then tried to rob a store Joey was fired from, were surprised by a cleaner who grabbed Julie, and Frank impulse stabbed him, freaked, and ordered the others to finish it with him and be in it together. Then before they’d even really finished burying the body, they got snagged. That leaves a whole lot of personality and thoughts and motivations and future choices and person wildly undetermined. Writing, sometimes characters just do their own thing completely out of my control, and I have to adapt. Frank chose not to kill Meg at the end of Tenacity, Adrenaline, & Grit, which surprised me, because he’d been nothing but a dipshit asshole bastard till one minute ago, but I knew it was because he recognized what she’d tried to do at great pain to herself because she wouldn’t bow down and die, and he connected/empathized or sympathized on some level. He also couldn’t go through with killing Quentin immediately after being helped by him in Distortion/Iron Maiden. Neither was like, planned. It’s just who the character was. I was frustrated. I did not want to like or feel sympathy for Frank at all. Then in The Lost, Jeff just fkn hijacked the whole plot and added 20 pages not in the outline because he wanted to be kind to Frank & it’s not like I can stop characters when they do whatever they do. And while writing it, I got to know that the version of Frank Morrison in the world I was writing—which is always the version I refer to/think of him as & write now myself—was not somebody past saving. He’s a piece of shit and he’s done fucked up and inexcusable stuff, and he pays for it. In many ways, Frank gets away with a lot over the course of ILM, but it’s always because characters choose on their own to forgive him, not because they or he doesn’t think it was fucked. And Frank suffers—a lot—for his choices, and has to live through appropriate and large amounts of regret and remorse about stuff he did before the end. He gets the chance to make better choices several times, and mostly he doesn’t. He continues to fuck up. But right near the end, he makes a couple good decisions when it’s down to the wire, sees where his bad choices got him and what he has to live with, and then he does live with it. He almost dies, and then ends up falling on Jeff’s mercy, which he knows he doesn’t deserve and doesn’t expect to get, for a last chance to make it, and because Jeff is an ungodly kind and forgiving soul, he makes it.

Frank isn’t a good person, and he does a lot of stuff that isn’t remotely okay or justified or excused, but he /is/ a kid—the upper end of it, but he’s not a full grown adult. He has every reason to believe nothing of himself or others, a fucked up childhood and life which isn’t his fault, and the Entity got all four Legion kids before they’d even had time to process the one and only violent crime they did (which was unplanned), and it is historically running a PHD in psychological warfare vs everyone. Absolutely none of that excuses or justifies him, but it is an explanation for some of it that is not as bad as say, doing that shit for fun or cruelty or hate or what have you, which makes him a bad person, but one with a lot more humanity left than say, Kenneth. Who is at -100 or something. If he’s still got a lot of humanity left, that means he could be redeemed, and he eventually chooses that path for himself and hits the appropriate “I did something horrible. Fuck. It was really bad. I should not have done it.” “I am really sorry I did this. I feel awful. I’m sorry.” “I cant change it, but I can try to do better and make whatever reparations I can.” “I want to be better, and I am going to try.” necessary stages of actually trying to improve. So, I like him. He did a lot of really awful shit that wasn’t okay, but he was never without sympathetic elements. He does love his friends and his girlfriend, he is a good boyfriend to Julie and selfless towards her and his crew (overall anyway—has even risked death for them very willingly, even the one who was fighting with/kinda hated him), will keep his word in deals and has some semblance of both sympathy and honor, feels guilt, is a kid, did not choose this life but was rather catapulted into it and too weak to climb out once he landed in the mud. All of that together makes him someone I feel sympathy towards and find quite redeemable, so long as he will decide he wants that, which, in ILM, he does. If you just meant Frank in general then idk how to answer because there’s not much established Frank period it’s kinda a shell like all original dead by daylight characters, and I have no thoughts on it by itself because it’s not a whole person, and so I really only think of Frank as ILM verse Frank now.

[camillasbitch]

"Charles I'm cold" Camilla whispered almost silently. Charles didn't hear exactly what she had said he just knew that she wasn't the in the happiest of moods today.

"What's up my lovely wife?" He said happily. "I'm sorry love I didn't hear you."

Camilla muttered something under her breath once more. This time Charles did hear it. He knew that she'd said "you never do." His wife had been off with him all day. Normally they snuggle and Kiss for a bit in the morning but she was already up and out of bed.

Being the loving husband that Charles is he went to her office to see if she was there and she was. It felt strange them not cuddling in the morning so he went to get her back into bed but she refused. "Darling?" Camilla rolled her eyes and ignored him, so he walked even closer and bent over to give her a good morning kiss that he couldn't get through the day without. She turned her head away so he placed kiss after kiss on her face until she stopped. He thought it would make her laugh but she got angry and went to storm out. Maybe she's just sad? Charles thought but then again it could be something more. Charles quickly grabbed her arm and give her an adoring glance and a hug, maybe that is what she needed? They'd been married for 11 years but they'd never been like this. If they were sad they told the other and they comforted each other. What was so different today? "Love, please tell me what's wrong. I love you."

"I know you do. Nothings wrong." She let go of his embrace looked him in the eye and went and sat on the sofa when Charles followed.

"Say it back to me." Charles said uncontrollably. But Camilla just huffed and layed on the sofa wrapped up in a blanket that her Mother had bought her a few years before she died. Then it clicked for Charles what day today was. It was Camillas mums anniversary of her death. That's why she was acting differently. But why did she not mention it?

"Darling I know what today is and I am sorry but please be honest with me now. Do you still love me or...?" Charles was stopped by his very quiet wife.

"Charles I'm cold" Camilla said. Was this an invitation for Charles to hold his wife or did she want the fire put on? Maybe she wanted both?

"Do you want me to hold you? A hot cup of tea? The fire on? Tell me what you want and I will do it. I'd do anything to make you happy again." Charles said sounding quite panicked.

"Well.. I really would like a nice cup of tea but the thing I'm craving most right now is my lovely husband's strong arms rapped around me. I am craving laying on him resting my head on his strong chest while he runs his hands up and down my back. It makes me relax. Then after we've cuddled for a while we could get a nice, hot, Relaxing bath together. How does that sound?"

"Perfect darling what would you like first? Tea or snuggles?" Charles turned his head and asked.

"Well you see. We could cuddle and you could ask someone to bring us up a nice mug of tea. I don't mind cuddling infront of people today." Camilla opened up her arms and held her husband's head on her chest running her fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry about my mood today. I'm sorry I really am. I love you, you know that right?"

"Or course I do. You really think that you could get rid of me that quickly? I love you my wonderful, amazing wife. But I hope you know that you can tell me how you're feeling right? You don't have to keep it bottled up. You can tell me anything and I will be there for you as much as I possibly can." He snuggled upto her more and the maid come in with their tea so they both got up and drunk it. Charles looked at her a little sad and Camilla had noticed so she asked Eleanor (her maid) to make them a bubble bath she knew that would chear him up. Her and Charles had names that they called each other when they had argued or if they were sad.

Camilla come out with a quiet "Cha, are you okay?" Charles' heart exploded with love. It had been so long since she called him that. "I've asked Eleanor to put on a bubble bath for us.. I hope that's okay?"

"Mills, of course its fine. I love you and I really want to kiss you but even that isn't close enough sometimes. I actually can't describe how I feel for you. I can't physically put into words how much I love you and that's why I am quiet because im worried that you don't know just how much I love you. I would tell you every single second of the day if I could." During their bath Charles drew lines with soap down Camillas back and placed light kisses on her neck. Suddenly, Charles tapped Camillas shoulder so she turned to look him in the eye and he kissed her on the lips.

"What was that for Darling?"

"Do I need a reason to kiss my beautiful wife?" Charles replied lovingly. "I wish I could do it every single second of the day."

"Oh Darling. The bath is getting cold now Shall we get out and go read a book in bed?"

"Sure my darling, let me get you a nice warm towel to dry off with and then we can get out" Charles reached for the towel off of the radiator and wrapped it around her body, his arms keeping it up. "Where are you pyjamas lovely? I will get them for you."

"Oh darling I do love you. My pyjamas are on the bed so I can get dressed in the bedroom. You could get in bed and warm it up and I will find a book that we can read together.

"Okay my darling well I don't want you to get cold so please put your dressing gown on lovely." Charles was always worrying about his wife being either too hot or too cold which she thought was cute because no one had ever been like that with her. That's what made him different from all the other guys she'd seen. Camilla took her husband's hand and clasped it walking quickly towards her bedroom when Charles stopped, turned her around and kissed her randomly. He treated her like a queen and she loved him for it. He thought that she was the most important person in his life.

Finally when they got to the bedroom Charles lay on the bed and Camilla got her pyjamas on. She got into bed with a book and opened the first page when she felt her husband move a little closer. "Darling.. I'm not sure I want to read anymore" she got closer to her husband and said "I'm in a very cuddly mood and want to be held please."

"Oh Millaaaaaa, put the book down and get here. I will hold you for as long as you want, but I need one thing in return." What could It be Mila thought that he would normally hold her so what's the difference? So she looked up at him. "Kisses darling. If I'm holding you you could at least kiss me please. You crave cuddles and I crave kisses so you kiss me and I will cuddle you." They'd known each other for 40 years yet he still knew how to give her butterflies.

"Charles" Camilla looked at him seriously. "How come we aren't this affectionate normally? I feel safe in your arms, I feel at home when we are hugging, kissing or whenever you're touching me in general. Your voice is so soothing and it makes me relax almost instantly. Especially when you are trying to make me relax on a plane. Your kisses and words are the things that get me through it and I'm so proud of how strong we can be together." Camilla almost cried.

"Baby, where did that come from?" Charles never called Camilla 'Baby' but when he did she knew she'd touched his heart in a different way to normal. "I love you, when I married you I promised that I would protect you in any way that I can and I know that sometimes we can have the odd row but that shows how strong we are together and as for planes.. you come with me when you don't have to darling. You are doing it because you want to support me so the least I can do it protect and make you less scared."

"I love you." Camilla dug her head into his chest and they both fell asleep.

It was 3.20am and Camilla woke up to Charles repeatedly saying "Darling Charlotte I love you and I want to be with you forever." Who was Charlotte? Did she exist? Camillas heart shattered, she stood up and went into her office and she started to do some work. At about 5am Charles noticed Camilla weren't in bed and got up to find her. He found her crying into her work as she had done since she woke up. "Milla? What are you doing in here? We were cuddling why did you get up? How long have you been in here for?"

Camilla give one worded replies and finally realised that talking to Charles about it would be better than keeping it to herself. "Well, af about 3am I woke up to you taking in your sleep saying you wanted to be with a girl called Charlotte and that you loved her and I got Jealous. Silly I know. Hearing those words leave your mouth about anyone other than me made my heart shatter. So at 3.20 I come in here to do some work but I couldn't focus." Camilla admitted

"Milla, I am sorry. I honestly don't know who Charlotte is but in my dream it was you with the name Charlotte. "Can you come back to bed now please? I will hold you and make sure you get a lay in, maybe a surprise when you wake up."

"I knew it was silly me getting upset. I was going to go to sleep in my room but then you come in. Please take me to bed :( I love you."

They went back to bed and cuddled. She woke up in the morning to a very apologetic Charles and plenty of kisses but most importantly she had a date day today. A full day of just her and Charles.

[flickwatches]

Toronto vs Vancouver: Civil War

I decided to follow an Overwatch league on here for the season.  I wanted to avoid a team with too many favorite players, a top tier team, and an APAC team (I gotta sleep).  I thought about Vancouver, Boston, maybe even Houston.  Boston released Soon, pissed me off. Third Impact 7k buyout leaks with Vancouver came out but I let it slide.  I like too many players on Houston and I stopped believing in them.  But than I saw Toronto and its rebuild.  KDG, Heesu, Sado, Na1st, Michelle, and Lastro.   Power pieces on an unproven team that wants to be good.  I didn’t know which team to choose still so I let the first game of the season for Vancouver and Toronto decide who I would pick.  

Vancouver Pros:

I love Dalton.  Dude has been grinding for a very long time and deserves every bit of success he has earned.  Huge fan of Teru from O2 Blast.  Even bigger fan of FRDWNR for surviving this long.  Dude is a nut.  I still remember Frdwnr winning the Second Wind 1v1 tournament.  Roolf is a veteran.  Fire gets a chance to be the main main support.  Linkzr rebirth on a team in need of firepower. 

Vancouver Cons:

I’ll keep it short, Shredlock is a weakness (I hope he improves) but I really don’t want to be writing about Shredlock the entire season.  Also the Org is scummy.  Cut Runaway.  The official original #1 Fan Favorite Runaway.  How you release the most loved team in the history of Overwatch.   And when you wanted to start small you wouldn’t pay out a small 7k buyout for all of Third Impact.  Sigh. 

Toronto Pros:

After trying to build a team from scratch.  After trying fan favorite local talent.  You invested money in proven coaches and players.  The org wants to win.  The org wants there fans to be happy.  Toronto is trying to do good things.  Shoutout to Karq, Agilities, and Fran for being content creators for Toronto.  Now lets list the roster.

Aztac

Ansoonjae

Lastro

Sado

Beast

Michelle

Na1st

Logix

Heesu(god)

Will get more into each player later on but I just wanted to list them as Pros for now. 

Toronto Cons:

I miss Agilities and Surefour.  I wish the pandemic didn’t exist so I could consider traveling to there local events even though it would be quite a drive for me. I don’t have a lot of cons they seem to be willing to invest in the team.  Could of done more for the last 2 rosters and staff.  They struggled to keep it together last 2 seasons. 

The Battle:

Vancouver vs Toronto.  The Battle for Canada.  The Battle for my love (and hate).  I can’t keep avoiding this.  I knew Heesu mite be special this season when he was playing over Carpe at the end of last season. I knew how good Na1st was on Fusin Uni back in the day.  Happy to see him in OWL.  Sado is a veteran and looks much better on a non-contender for best team in OWL.  Michelle got perma benched on Seoul for some reason.  Logix is good and great when its online play. 

Wow, ok.  I’m just talking about how amazing the Toronto roster is.  

Map 1: Busan

I want to point out that Shredlock didn’t look that bad on Wrecking Ball.  Toronto looked strong.  Heesu started to showcase his future Role Star level of play.  Toronto dominated the meta Rush and Dive plays.  Vancouver struggled with objective priority.  Which player would be responsible with contesting the Objective. When playing Wrecking Ball and Tracer usually one of them is responsible for touching point.  This problem showed thruout the entire match.  At one point neither Shredlock (Ball) or Dalton (Tracer) touched point while Na1st (Tracer) was capping. Forcing Linkzr to roll onto point to contest the cap.  Forcing FRDWNR to peel for Linkzr which left Roolf alone as Zen.  Toronto contested point and in the same motion turned onto the suddenly lonely Zen and killed him.  While Shredlock and Dalton only attacked the Toronto backline.  Toronto traded faster and more efficiently.  While taking point control.  

Toronto hard dominated Vancouver first map.

Map 2: Eichenwalde

If Vancouver was your average team the timebank they created on defense would of made the map winnable.  But Toronto is obviously better than Vancouver (especially at Rush).  And dying efficiently isn’t enough to win. Vancouver at least show cased its ability to lose fights and start the next fight well.  They played as a team.  Toronto at one point spawn camped Vancouver so long during Streets that the payload rolled back to first point.  The Castors coining the phrase “Touch the payload challenge”.

Toronto walked away with this win even if they were forced to walk a little slower than expected. 

Map 3: Watchpoint Gibraltar

Some people would say Toronto threw this map by playing its bench but KDG and the coaching staff wanted to make sure every player got to play first game.  They put out Heesu, Logix, Beast, Michelle, Aztac, and Lastro this map.

This was obviously Vancouver’s best map. Double Bubble meta with no Rush.  Linkzr had more power over the map as hitscan on high ground.  The biggest factor was the payload almost getting to the end of Shuttle phase forcefully making Vancouver play the objective correctly. 

Both Frontlines played the Double Bubble positions and cooldowns very well.  A lot of great plays and team fights broke down correctly for both teams.  Winstons making correct jumps, getting the bubbles, using there own bubbles correctly.  Solid cleave and good primals.  Zaryas played really well and Anas supported extremely well.  The DPS had a field day with how well fights went for both teams.   

Titans played there best and won there first map of the season.  Even Shredlock looked good. 

Map 4: Hanamura

Look at us, playing a map 4.  Vancouver looked like they had a chance.  They didn’t.

Hanamura was hard Rush vs Rush.  Toronto was good at Rush and Vancouver was bad at Rush.  FRDWNR tried really hard to hold it down but with no Cooldowns and too far away they eventually C9′d the match away.  

Toronto played the Meta better and had the better team.  Don’t be surprised if Toronto is a top 5 team in the West this season. 

Conclusion:

Hello Toronto. Hello Defiant. And most importantly, Hello Heesu.  I cannot wait to watch every Toronto game this season.  Heesu and Na1st look strong. Lastro is still great.  Big fan of Beast even if everyone else is down on him.  Logix will get his chances on certain maps and metas.  I hope they commit to this team and staff long term in Toronto.  Not sure which jersey I’ll be buying this season.  I’m not sure what the Defiant catchphrase is but Lets Get Rebellious or something. 

PS Its 5am and I’m about to watch APAC.  Sorry for any mistakes.  

[nyrator]

wondering what to make next still

5AM and just felt the need to vent again I guess

Just a very depressed day for no real reason, still brought down by how stagnant things are I suppose- My creativity, my situation, lots of things

Drew Lain fanart, got a nice group of people following me on twitter thanks to it. It’s silly to worry about things like follower count, but it’s sort of addictive at the same time- I feel like I know the ways to do it, if I wanted, but I guess I just don’t really want to just chase followers with fanart- Feels like Tsukumizu fanart’s the way to go after Lain if I did more fanart, but mann, even if I did, still wouldn’t know what to draw.

I admire artists, like that one Diva artist that draws nun arts, or that one Avogado artist, people who draw constantly, consistent themes, but also a form of ongoing narrative, or something. Not only drawing so often, but each piece being its own. Diva especially, the way there’s so much packed in every scene, with an ongoing narrative in each piece, it’s admirable.

I really want to draw- but I lack that story element. That writing ability. I used to have it, where I could brainstorm and write pages and pages of notes. But I’ve lost it, somehow, for years. Last time I remember doing it was when brainstorming the prewrite for Rotten Nyan and coming up with like seven or so chapters (and still haven’t finished one). I don’t know if I just gave up on my writing, or if I just don’t care, or what. Maybe it’s simply depression/anxiety issues that medication could fix.

I think I’m just going stir crazy- friends occasionally get me out of the house, at least, which is nice of them. But haven’t cleaned in forever, and the apartment’s becoming more and more of a mess I can’t find the energy to do anything about. Every day feels wasted and underutilized, and I still worry about things like blood clots or other health issues or something from how inactive I am. Feel bad for neglecting cats still, though finally got them new food to try to try to help them be healthier. Wish I wasn’t so allergic that I could let them into my room easier.

It’s really hard just sitting here, day after day, doing nothing and having no energy to do anything, and wondering how much of my life I’m going to waste doing this.

Still need to work on my social anxiety, too- lots of that from talking to people again. And I’m still worn out by the internet in general, spending too much time on it probably. Mainly twitter, I suppose, which is my own fault, but I’m too addicted to absorbing information. Sort of inspired me to write something new, but like I said earlier- I can’t write at all. Made two character designs and the broad strokes, but can’t lay out anything at all. Not even a single scene to draw. It’s a weird, self-serving story, that I’d probably make anonymously just to avoid feeling guilty about it. Basic premise is a depressed girl caught up in her simple problem(s?) while observing other characters and their more complex, hard to understand problems. The other main character is a boy with a strong sense of certain social issues to the point of fault, and the girl trying to make heads or tails of what’s right and what’s wrong. Maybe I should just make them two separate stories, though, since they don’t really mix well together, I think. If I even manage to make it at all.

Been trying to play Picross or read manga to escape, but as soon as its over, it hits hard. Today I decided to read that Fire Punch manga I hear a lot about, since a friend introduced me to that Chainsaw Man when I did that one group of six requests a while back, now that CSM is ending next week. Pretty good, bit all over the place, can appreciate how silly ridiculous it could be, though admittedly also felt lackluster to me in places like the ending, though I wouldn’t say the ending saga was bad either. Definitely an interesting manga, to say the least. Disliked the movie girl at first but she became pretty entertaining for the most part, then lost interest in them towards the end of their arc. I think I just wanted to see more of some of the characters they introduced in that part and felt a bit let down because tree things.

I think reading manga’s really the only hobby I consistently enjoy, it just requires finding a good one. Decided that I was going to buy myself a physical version of all the manga I’ve read that I enjoyed/don’t own, but then realized almost none of them have been localized, and the ones that have are the lower priority ones.

Also started playing FF9 again finally, just got to the Black Mage village. I’m also definitely not very good at video games. I’d like to want to play one again, but they’re very hard to get into, especially on my own- I usually just go with whatever other people want to play.

In a few days, it’ll be you&me’s 10 year conceptualization anniversary. Still no progress, and still can’t even feel the desire to draw or sprite something for it. A friend ignited a spark in me to work on it again, but it immediately blew out the next day. I think it’s an impossible dream- I’ve learned RPG Maker 2003 inside and out, and if I could make maps, I’d probably be set. But the fandom’s grown away from me, and it feels almost pointless to make at this point. Been way too worn out from hanging around people who criticize those kinds of games, I guess, myself included.

On a random note, laying down is weird for me, I’ve probably mentioned it before. I feel like I’ve been hallucinating a lot- like half dream, half thinking it’s real and blending with reality. Keep thinking my mother’s still alive, that the death thing was a misunderstanding. Or that my uncle wants me to live with him. I can’t even remember if that really happened or not. The house I dreamt wasn’t his, though. And yet, I’m not asleep when these things happen, I’m lying in bed thinking and aware of my surroundings, and of the fantasy at the same time, thinking of them like memories, or concurrently. My brain is weird. Not only that, but how easily I forget to do things- I’ve set up a reminder on my phone just to remind me to message someone every day, because I just can’t remember to after waking up.

I guess I just don’t want to sleep and be trapped in my thoughts again. But it’s 5:30 now, and I should sleep. I’m scared by how trapped I feel. Still need to find a way to see a therapist about it, but I’m not very proactive about that either.

Got my mother’s death certificates finally after three months. Now I need to contact the bank and stuff somehow. It’s intimidating. Apparently her cause of death was “aspiration pneumonitis possibly due to cerebellar atrophy”, believed to be over the course of months. I wonder what that entails, exactly, and if it could have been avoided in the nursing home she was put in. No sense thinking about that, I suppose, I just know my aunt’s interested in a lawsuit if we’re able, so we’ll see how things go.

People are kind, I get kind messages from people who read these. Even those that don’t message are still kind. Hopefully no one feels obligated to read these, but it is appreciated to be cared about. Thanks, everyone.

[nat-roman0ff]

saturday, wait

the here and now; sequel to another certain time and place (read the full series in my masterlist)

ii. saturday, wait the one where time starts to catch up wc: 2454 warnings: mentions of depression, bad words, and fluff

---

The skies of Toronto opened up Saturday morning at about 5am. She only knew this because there was a gutter that ran above the window on their bedroom balcony door that constantly overfilled. The steady drip drip woke her up from a very lovely dream to a cold and lonely bed. 

 Shawn had been gone for just over a month now and the loneliness was beginning to set in. He’d insisted she move into the condo before he left, so they scattered at the last second to bring all her things over in time for him to take off on the last leg of tour. She rolls over to stare at Shawn’s unmade side of the bed and sighs. There’s not a single wrinkle in the white of his duvet. The condo still didn’t feel like it was quite theirs; but more like she was on an extended house sitting visit. She played through the motions (oftentimes accidentally setting off his stereo system that she still didn’t know how to work) and kept the household going. 

 She watches the fat drops of water slam and streak down the glass of the balcony door. The skies seem to hang low today, and everything is covered in a sheet of gray. She grabs her phone to confirm the time and rolls her face into her pillow to scream in frustration. 

There’s an itch she can’t quite scratch. It’s the weekend - which means she doesn’t have to do anything. But she can’t stand staying at the condo, it’s a constant reminder that Shawn isn’t here and she is. It’s like a tomb of memories that she can never escape, every step is a reminder that he’s on the road and she’s not waking up in his arms every morning. But, she lacks the energy to actually do anything. Plans with friends go cancelled and never rescheduled, and as the days pass she becomes increasingly homebound, despite the pain it causes her. 

 Tossing and turning, she ends up staring at the ceiling. She watches the memories project onto the ceiling like old school films, playing over and over, just there to remind her of her loneliness. There’s no escape from him here, but her brain and heavy heart tell her to just stay in bed.

 Just get up and pee, go make yourself some toast, pour a cup of coffee, anything. She begs to herself but its like she’s chained to the bed and without the responsibilities of work (on the days she’d actually shown up lately), she can’t seem to make herself move.

 Around six thirty her phone buzzes. Her eyes blink lazily. She knows it’s Shawn but she’s not in a rush to answer. Despite missing him at the depths of her core she’s not desperate for him. She doesn't want FaceTime or phone calls, she doesn’t want a goodnight text or a morning meme. She wants him here, next to her in this empty fucking bed. 

 Her hand reaches onto the bedside table and grabs her phone. Of course it’s a message from Shawn as she suspected. It’s a simple one;

 good morning, gremlin. i know you’re probably still snoozing but i wanted you to have something to wake up to. day off today, so call me when you get up and we can facetime a bit. love youuuuuuuuuuuu.

 It almost hurts to smile, it’s been a while. 

 hi bub. feeling down this morning and could stand to hear your voice. call me when you’re able to, i’m just laying in bed.

 The phone rings almost instantly, “hi baby,” Shawn says, his voice low, still groggy with sleep.

 “Hi,” she manages, her own voice cracking. 

 “What’s got you up so early?” He asks. 

 “Rain.” 

 Shawn laughs, “that damn gutter, huh?” 

 “Yeah.” 

 He notices her shortness and knows it’s not from tiredness but tells himself so anyways. He doesn’t want to be a thousand miles away worried about his girlfriend back at home. Maybe he’ll call his mom later to pop over and check on her or call a mutual friend to take her out for lunch. Shawn knows she’s taken it hard, it was a different type of goodbye now than before when they were just friends. 

 “Do you have any plans this weekend?” Shawn asks.

 She yawns, “not really. Maybe read a book or do some laundry.” 

 “Oh,” he pips, “I could have my mum come over and visit for a bit.” 

 “You don’t have to do that Shawn,” it comes out almost venomous. 

 He sighs, “I’m just worried. People have been telling me you’re not going out much, cancelling on them last minute. Are you okay, baby?” 

 She breathes in deep and lets out a long single breath, “no.” 

 There’s no stopping the floodgate of tears that happens then. It’s not just him being gone, either. Work is exhausting and uninspiring and she feels herself slipping away from the things she loved to do, and the people she loved to do things with. 

 “Fuck, I wish I could come home,” Shawn breathes. 

 He doesn’t make her talk, he doesn’t ask questions. He just lets her cry and it takes everything in his power not to cry with her because he can feel his heart shattering as she gasps for breaths between sobs and he hates himself for not being there and holding her in his arms.

 When she’s finished, she’s silent. Neither of them speak for a while and she waits until her breathing has returned to normal and her face is wiped dry of tears to speak, “I’m sorry.” 

 “W-what?” Shawn sputters, “baby, do not apologize. I want to make sure you’re alright. I’m gonna come home. I don’t care if it’s for an hour. I’m coming home. If I leave for the airport now there’s a flight that will get me there this afternoon. Can you pick me up at the airport at three?” 

 “Shawn that’s crazy, you’re going to be so tired. I’ll go see your parents or something. I’ll be fine, I’m just in a funk,” she pleads. The last thing she wants to do is cause issues and force him home just because she’s sad. 

 Well, she’s more than just sad she thinks. She’s depressed, and she knows it. And the sooner she accepts it, the better off she’ll probably be. Depression is a slippery and nonlinear slope. At first she trips into it, noticing she’s more disengaged than usual, then the anxiety and overthinking kicks in, followed up with isolation until eventually the days blend so fluidly together she can’t tell if it’s June or Saturday.

 She can never pinpoint exactly when it happens, at least not until she’s drowning in her own sorrow and can’t get herself out. When bed is the only place she wants to be and she hasn’t eaten or drank in thirty-six hours. 

 “No, I’m coming home or I’m bringing you to me. Take your pick.” 

 She sighs, “just come home.” 

 ---

 Her thumb nervously taps the steering wheel as she waits outside the arrivals terminal at Toronto Pearson. She’s chewed her lower lip in to bits and it’s sore and chapped. She hadn’t bothered to get dressed, and wore one of Shawn’s teeshirts and a pair of leggings for the occasion. There’s a metallic taste when she chews on her nail beds, adding to the already scabbed hangnails that adorned her fingertips.

 Shawn spots her first and runs towards the Jeep. He throws open the passenger’s side door and wraps his arms around her, his elbow hitting the horn and scaring them both. He pulls back and her face feels heavy in his hand. A tired and empathetic, “baby,” is all he can say. 

 They drive home in silence, their fingers interlaced. Shawn peppers kisses on the back of her hand and up her arm but sparks no reaction. His heart sinks into his stomach. It’s so fucking painful to see her like this, so radically unlike herself. There’s no sarcastic quip, or banter or even fucking speck of his usual girl in there and that terrfies him. 

 “What do you want to do for dinner?” He asks, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

 She shrugs, “don’t know.” 

 “When’s the last time you ate?” 

 She shrugs again, “can’t remember.” 

 Shawn’s head rests on her shoulder and he lets out a sigh, “will you please come back with me?”

 She can feel the tears bubbling up again. She wants to say yes, she wants to say yes so fucking bad. But she knows Shawn and being with Shawn will not be the end all cure all. The thing about depression is, it doesn’t just go away with a change of scenery. It’ll go dormant for a while, sure; weeks, months, years even, if you’re lucky. And then all of a sudden it shows up again out of nowhere like a bad rash and it’s back to square one all over again. 

 “I don’t think that’ll help, Shawn,” she says as they pull into the parking garage at the condo. 

 He treads lightly, “I don’t want to start an argument with you baby, I just want you to feel your best again. At least if we’re together you aren’t alone.” 

 Her hand leaves his and she puts the Jeep into park, shuts off the ignition and unclicks her seatbelt. She thinks, hard. It’s the hardest she’s thought in a while and she forgets the feeling of trying to rationally mull something over. Her forehead tingles a little, and she weighs the options that Shawn has presented to her;

 One; stay home. Stay home at the condo, wake up Monday through Friday and work a job where she’s disrespected, underappreciated, but is making connections that will hopefully help her in the future of her career.

 Two; leave with Shawn. Go on tour with Shawn and live on a stinky tour bus with two other boys and wake up in a new city every day. But at least they were together.

 “I’ll do it.” 

 Shawn doesn’t think he’s ever smiled so big in his life.

 “Really?” 

 She nods.

 “Well let’s go get you packed then.” 

 ---

 An hour later the bedroom is strewn about with clothes and an open suitcase lying in the middle of their king sized bed. She folds, unfolds, and refolds everything. Nothing seems to fit and it’s making her teeth itch. Shawn just keeps digging through the closet, holding up a random item of clothing and saying ‘this’? When he does it for what seems like the thousandth time, she snaps.

 “Shawn just go in the fucking living room and I’ll finish packing, okay! You’re messing everything up, throwing my shit all around. Just let me finish the packing!” 

 He tries not to let it hurt him. It’s the most emotion he’s gotten out of her in weeks and he supposes it’s a step in the right direction. It’s better than the alternative. Shawn closes the gap between them in a few long strides and kisses her forehead.

 “That’s fine. Just let me know if you need anything and I’ll go book our flight for the morning, alright? I’ll order some dinner and we can take a shower together?” He kisses her temple, and then her chin, and then her jaw. 

 “Okay,” she starts, “and I’m sorry for yelling.” 

 Shawn kisses the top of her head, “it’s alright. I love you.” 

 When he leaves the room she sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the half packed suitcase beside her. She realizes her decision was rash, she’ll have to call her boss on Monday morning and tell her she’s not coming back...like ever, tell her friends that she'll be gone for basically the rest of the year, and her brain was still searching for a way to explain all of this to her mother. But the last part was for another day when her brain wasn’t feeling so scattered. 

 It’s remarkable how quickly she finishes packing when Shawn is out of the room. She finds him in the kitchen making two drinks and dancing around, singing under his breath as he grabs his ingredients from around the room. She has to hide her chuckle when he spots her, covering her mouth with her hand. Shawn reaches his hand out for her to come dance with him.

 The moment her hand is in his, he pulls her close, letting their bodies bump together. He cups her face and gives her a kiss and feels her relax against him, “I missed you,” he says, brushing his nose against hers for an eskimo kiss. 

 “Can we take that shower now?” She asks, kissing his chin. 

 Shawn laces their fingers together and leads them across the condo to the bathroom. She sits on the counter and watches him fuss with the knobs to find the perfect temperature. He wipes his wet hand on his jeans and turns back to her. They undress each other slowly. It’s not sexual in the slightest, but a caring gesture. She steps in first, letting the rainfall showerhead cascade over her. 

 It feels so impossibly good. It’s revitalizing and awakening. Her senses come to and she’s suddenly hyper aware of Shawn standing at the corner of the stall. He waves and she grabs his hand to pull him under the water with her. He turns her body facing away from him, pressing himself against her back and wrapping an arm around her waist. He peppers wet kisses down her shoulders and across her back. 

 “Can I wash your hair?” Shawn asks, his fingertips tracing across her belly.

 She answers as a chill runs through her, it had been so long since she felt his fingertips pressed into her, “yes.” 

 Shawn smirks and grabs the shampoo bottle from the shelf, squirting way too much into his hand and globbing it into her hair. His fingers move without much precision and there’s fits of giggles as he tries to style her heavy hair into various hairstyles. It feels good to laugh and she’s sure the feeling won’t last long, but she’s happy to be back in her cotton candy cloud for a little while.

 When they finish they just hold each other for a while under the warm stream of water. It was terrifying and exciting all at once and it was the first time in too long that she actually felt anything more than an exhausting, draining sadness. Even though they’d been friends for years, the relationship is still so new. 

 Will we grow tired of each other? She thinks. 

 And she doesn’t have that answer right now, and she won’t have that answer until much later.