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#I had completely forgotten everything about it ... fittingly enough
nicname · 3 years
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Damn Daniel
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Free Kurt - Isabelle style (Glee)
This is part of the Free Kurt event, where different fic writers all present a take on how the proposal from 501 could have ended better for Kurt by use of one character. I decides on Isabelle Wright, and here you have 2020 (fittingly) words of “Free Kurt - Isabelle style”.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except an overactive imagination and way too many plotbunnies.
“Getting a choice means you gotta make one. Relax. Hear what the guy has to say. All you gotta do is say yes, no or maybe.”
“Is there another option?”
~*~*~*~
Kurt turns towards Dalton, steeling himself to go inside and meet Blaine. To start a new phase of his life - their lives. And then his phone rings.
“That can wait, can’t it, buddy?”
“I just need to check, oh, I have to take this. I’m sure it won’t take long. Just…” He walks a bit, not wanting his dad to hear if this is one of those calls.
“Isabelle! Is there something wrong?”
“No, no! Well, a little, but! You're just the guy to fix that. I remember right that you were flying back today, right? Would you be amenable to show up at Vogue, paid time, and help out at a party? Chase was supposed to be there and write about the outfits, but Marcel is in the hospital so Chase has to cover for him.”
“I...don't know if I'll be able to make it in time.”
“Traffic? I'll send a car for you, obviously, and pick an outfit from the vault.”
“I'm sorry, I mean I'm not sure if I'm going to make my flight.”
And he isn't. It hasn't hit him until now – how? why? – that even though he left with plenty of time to get to the airport and through security it might not be enough to also get through the proposal. He'd thought so, before, but really when he actually thinks about it? That would depend on Blaine being brief. Oh, and letting Kurt leave after. Is he going to want me to do that? Or is he expecting us to do something together?
Surely Blaine must have planned for Kurt making his flight though? Or made other arrangements? I'm already checked in though, I did that yesterday. So clearly no one's changed my flight.
“Kurt? Is something wrong? Are you... Are you not at the airport? Did something happen with your dad?”
Isabelle's voice is rising, worried, and he takes a second to feel cherished by that while hurrying to calm her down.
“Oh no, he's fine. Just, I'm not at the airport. There was a detour. I... I'm at a surprise proposal.”
“Really? Whose?”
Blaine's. “Mine.”
“Wait, what? Didn't you go down alone? Oh, did blond and cute go with you after all?”
“No, Adam is... We're over.”
“You broke up? You left here 10 days ago, dating Adam , and now you’re telling me that not only did you break up with him in that time, but also you started dating someone new? And you’re being proposed to? Am I hearing this right?
“What happened, Kurt?”
“I couldn’t commit to Adam. He offered to come with me, you know that, but I turned him down. That was pretty telling, that I didn’t want him to come with me. If it’d been serious, if I’d been willing to commit to him, well… I wouldn’t have said no then, would I? If I didn’t want him here with me during this, if I didn’t want him to come with and meet my family and friends, then clearly I wasn’t that invested.
“Better to break it off then.”
It had hurt, sure, because he’d really enjoyed being with Adam, but once it’d been pointed out to him…
“Okay, say I buy that - and we’re talking more about that when you come back, mister, don’t you doubt it! - what about this new relationship? How can you be ready to commit to someone else this soon?”
“I never had a problem committing to Blaine.”
There’s silence at the other end, enough that Kurt starts questioning if the call’s been disconnected.
“Isabelle?”
“You…” Her voice does a funny thing, and she starts over again. “You’re back with him?”
When he confirms it Isabelle starts talking fast, clearly not willing to let him say anything else.
“Blaine. Cheated on you after 2 weeks, Blaine. Blamed you for it, Blaine. Almost got you in trouble at work, Blaine. Made you feel like shit for months, Blaine. You’re back with him. And he’s proposing? You got back together, what, five minutes ago?”
Yesterday, Kurt thinks. We got back together yesterday. He doesn’t say that though.
“We were together for a year and a half. It’s not like he’s some stranger. This is, I always saw us ending up here. This was my dream, Isabelle, for so long.”
“”Before, and I cannot stress this enough, he cheated on you. How can you be sure he won’t do that again? After all, you’re coming back to New York. He’s going to be in Lima, still in school. That didn’t work so well last time.
“As you said, you didn’t have a problem committing to him. He on the other hand...”
It stings, to hear Isabelle reference such a painful experience so casually. Kurt swallows it down though, arguing back. “It’ll be different this time. He promised he’d never hurt me like that again. And he signed Oprah’s non-cheating contract.”
Except he hadn’t, not yet, but he’d promised to do it and surely that has to mean something?
“The fact that a non-cheating contract even entered the picture isn’t exactly the strong argument you seem to think. At least not in his favor.
“Kurt, honey, I'm saying this from a place of love. Have you completely lost your mind?”
And that, that hurts. He’s not crazy. This is the right thing to do. Everyone else thinks so, so why can’t Isabelle see it?
“Now, I’m not going to tell you that you can’t date someone, or get engaged, or hell, even married - though I do hope he doesn’t have an officiant standing by - but what’s the hurry? Why does he have to propose now?”
And well, Kurt doesn’t have an answer to that - and he’s searched, having asked himself the same question.
“He’s just, he’s always been excitable. Besides, seize the moment, you know? You never know what happens.”
He can’t be sure, but it sounds like Isabelle is muttering something about finding him a therapist. Surely not though?
“And I, Isabelle, it took me forever to find Blaine. What if I never meet anyone else who makes me feel the way he does?” Kurt politely ignores the hrumpf on the other end.
“Honey, you’re young. So, so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. And if it doesn’t happen? I am more than twice your age.” And wow, things has to be really serious if Isabelle is admitting to that. “I’m single. I’ve never been married, or engaged. I don’t have kids. By now, I’m pretty sure neither of that will change.
“Does that make me - or my life - worth any less?”
“No! Of course it doesn't. Just... It’s not what I want for me,” Kurt adds in a low voice.
“And that’s okay. As I said, you’re young. You have time to get to where you want to be. It doesn’t have to be a race. Not everyone find their place - or their person - at 20. That you would walk through life and never meet anyone else who could love you, and appreciate you? That’s impossible.”
Kurt feels the word sink into him, and before he can think twice he whispers “dad said I looked like he was driving me to my execution”.
“Wait, what? Look, I know that as your boss I don’t have the right to tell you what to do with your private life, but I’d like to think that I’m a little more than just your employer. So please, listen. Don’t be in such a hurry to do this. Not after just a few days. Not if you’re unsure enough that you look like that. Please. Come back to New York. Take some time to think. To just date again and adjust to how you’ve changed. Because that’s going to change how you are together as well.
“Put yourself first.”
Put himself first? Kurt isn’t even sure how to do that. It means disappointing his dad. Disappointing Blaine. He...doesn’t have a great track record with that.
But that’s his answer right there, isn’t it? He isn’t thinking that what’s right for him is to walk inside and let Blaine propose. He’s thinking about walking away.
“I’ll call you when I’m back in New York, okay? Bye Isabelle. And...thanks for listening.”
He walks back to the car and his dad, who’s looking kind of worried.
“That took a bit longer than I thought. Everything okay?”
“Yes, I think it is.” In the corner of his eye Kurt spots people spying from Dalton’s balcony and the door, looking restless. Apparently he’s not following the script.
“So, ehm, can you just drive me to the airport like we agreed?”
Burt Hummel looks like a stranded fish, and under other circumstances Kurt is sure he'd find it amusing. Now, not so much.
“What? What about-”
“I decided that I did have another option, one that doesn’t mean listening to Blaine. I’m not ready to say yes to what he wants to ask me, and I want to leave.”
“What about Blaine? Are you really going to leave him hanging like this?”
And ouch, that might be justified, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to hear it from his dad. Isn’t my dad supposed to back me? Where was this attitude when it was Finn? And right, he’d forgotten for a bit, the memories swept away in his dad’s pushy encouragment. Burt had hated Finn’s engagement to Rachel, not to mention the wedding-that-wasn’t.
“Good to know whose side you're on.”
They stare at each other. Kurt has folded so many times in similar situations, but this time he’s going to stand by his decision.
“I gotta say, buddy, this isn't like you.”
“Well, maybe my usual habit of doing not what I want but what I think the people around me want isn't working for me any longer.”
Which is true, and how could I have let myself almost be backed in a corner like that? but his dad takes it badly.
“This is… This is because of whoever called you right now, isn’t it? Why are you allowing her to change your mind like this? Not five minutes ago you were going to at least hear Blaine out. Who's this Isabelle to tell you not to?”
“Apparently the only person in all of this who’s on my side.”
“Hey! That's not fair!”
“Not fair? Life’s not fair! And you know what, something else that’s not fair? Dad, you told me you thought I looked like you were driving me to my execution. We both knew it was a proposal, yet that's how you thought I looked. And somehow that didn't make you question anything? I couldn't tell you if I was okay or not. Again, you didn't question it. I asked you if there was another option to answering him! Again, you just told me to go ahead. To listen to what Blaine had to say.
“Isabelle didn't tell me what to do, she told me to listen to myself! She reminded me that I do have options. I'm the one choosing which one to take, and that's going to the airport and then back home.
“Now, are you going to drive me?”
Kurt waits for an answer. Once he finds himself beginning to count seconds he gives up. He walks over to the car, grabs his bags, tells his dad he'll call once he lands and starts walking. His blood is pounding in his ears, to the point where it’s all he hears, and he just. Keeps. Walking. Reaching the end of the driveway makes it feel better, but not safe, not yet. He takes the first corner, twists through the sidestreets with hurried steps, looking for a place to hide and make a call.
Ten minutes later he’s in the back of a cab, heading towards the airport, with his phone turned off and his heart in his throat, feeling utterly, heartbreakingly relieved.
~The End ~
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jihoonluvclub · 4 years
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Hell to Sell (M)
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Request: Gyuhoon threesome? Pairing: Woozi x Reader x Mingyu Genre: Smut Warning: Explicit content, threesomes, double penetration, anal, oral (giving/recieving), spanking, rough sex, light guy on guy, dirty talk. Word Count: 4.3k
The club you were stuck in was crowded and hot, the music not much better either. You went out with the boys and found that you would have much rather stayed at home.
Jihoon was sitting at one of the VIP tables that the group had rented out. You plopped down next to him, desperate to find something or someone to take your mind off the nagging want to leave.
“Shouldn’t you be out there dancing?” He mused as you rested your head on his shoulder.
“Don’t wanna. This is much better than being on my feet.” You said as you threaded your fingers together with his.
“Isn’t Mingyu going to be looking for you? He might get mad you’re over here.”
“We all know you’re the only one we have to listen to.” You smile as you lift his glass to your lips, drinking his mostly forgotten whiskey.
Jihoon’s hand ran along the expanse of your thigh, teasing your thighs open just enough to get your hopes up. With his mouth against your ear he leaned in, “then I suggest that you go find him and put on a show for me.”
Well, if that was the case, you could stand to dance a little longer. With a squeeze to your thigh Jihoon sent you off. You looked around the club trying to find Mingyu. You scanned the room for the tallest people, after eyeing the third one you finally find him.
He was talking to Seungcheol, sharing a laugh over drinks with a few others. For spending thousands of dollars renting that table none of them were using it, save for Jihoon.
You approached Mingyu, languidly wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulls you in and kisses the side of your temple, careful to keep his drink from spilling on you. You arch upward to whisper in his ear, “we have a request from the gentleman over at the corner table.”
Mingyu looks up and his eyes meet Jihoon’s. “Oh? And what does that guy want from us?” He looks playfully at you.
You smile as he puts his drink down, freeing his hands to enclose around your body. “A show,” you say as you urged him to the dancefloor. “Come on.”
Your hips joined as you pulled Mingyu down for a kiss, moaning against his mouth as his hands grabbed your backside, squeezing the plush curves in his hands. Together you moved closer to where Jihoon was seated, already able to feel his burning stare at the both of you.
You took his wrists and placed his hands on your hips, sliding your own hands up and across his broad shoulders. You two rocked against each other, the melody of the song fittingly changed to a slower, sultry one.
You looked into each other’s eyes before Mingyu leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss. His hands slid past your hips to your backside, grabbing a handful of your soft flesh before they worked their way back up your body.
You moaned as his tongue slipped past your lips, gasping as his wandering hands molded against your breasts. You hadn’t expected him to be so brazen, at least not in such a public setting. When it came to Jihoon and Mingyu together though, their competitive spirits always came out.
If he wanted a show, Mingyu was going to give it to him.
His knee pushed between your legs, his height gave him an advantage over you. You groaned as he pulled your hips closer to him, making your barely covered pussy grind against the rough fabric of his slacks.
He wasn’t really going to do this when dozens of other people could see what you were doing, would he?
Your question was answered as his mouth connected with your neck and his tight roughly pushed against your sex. You used every ounce of willpower that you could gather to stop yourself from moaning out loud. Mingyu moved so his back was facing Jihoon, effectively blocking everything from his greedy sight.
Everything but the way your brow knitted together as you bit down on your bottom lip to stifle your moans. His eyes were sharp and dark, leaving you breathless as he watched you with a heated look.
You didn’t anticipate Jihoon to get up after that, striding over towards you with determination. He wound his arms around you too, completely ignoring Mingyu’s hold on you. You tilted your head back, pulling Mingyu from your neck. Your head rested on Jihoon’s shoulders allowing him to bring his lips to yours.
You moaned into his mouth as his hands gripped your chest, the same way Mingyu previously had. So many hands were on you, the heat from the room and their bodies surrounding you was throwing you into a haze. You were intoxicated by their presence.
Jihoon whispered something to Mingyu next to you, but you were far too preoccupied with the feeling of their hands on you to make out what they were saying. Within seconds Mingyu had tossed you over his shoulders and into a cab.
Hands were still all over you as you made your way back to the apartment. It was a blur of hands and lips until you were drug through the front door. By the time your feet were on the ground and you could take in your surroundings your dress was almost falling off of you.
“You’re a pretty good dancer, big guy,” you said.
Mingyu smiled, “I’ve been known to dabble in dancing from time to time.”
You pressed your full length against his body, “you don’t say.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes as he took his jacket off, coming up behind you once he was left in just a tie and button up. He wound his arms around you from behind, nuzzling your neck once brushing your hair to the side. He licked the sensitive skin of your neck once it was exposed to him.
He tugged at the small zipper on the back of your dress, pulling it down and baring your back. He undid the clasp of your bra as well, leaving the long line of your back open for him.
He traced his fingers down from the nape of you neck to the very bottom of your spine, then back up again. Back down, further this time. His fingers dipped a little lower, and not finding any underwear, he pulled the dress backwards and peeked inside.
“Oh my god,” he gasped. “Was your ass bare this whole time?”
“Mmmhm.” You replied. Jihoon groaned, and pressed his erection against your backside.
Mingyu slid his hand down to your thigh and pushed your dress up to confirm Jihoon’s assessment. His mouth went dry when he found nothing there but bare skin.
“That’s…highly inappropriate…” he groaned out. But before he could even complete his statement, he was down on his knees in front of you, pushing your dress up to your waist and baring you to his view.
You leaned back into Jihoon for support as Mingyu threw one of your legs over his shoulder. You could only watch as he ran his mouth up the inside of you thigh, before stopping at your apex. You could almost cry out at the tension building up inside of you.
He ran his fingers lightly along the inside of your thighs, before tentatively reaching his tongue out to touch your sex. You gasped, legs twitching in his hold.
Jihoon’s hands slid down to your waist, where he grasped your dress and pulled it up and off over your head, taking your bra with it. Jihoon’s hands came up to cup your breasts, something he could hardly keep his hands off of. His breath whispered by your ear as he nibbled at the sensitive skin of your neck.
You had never felt so hot and wound up before in your life. There was something about having two fully clothed men in suits no less, caressing and tasting you, taking what they wanted while you were completely bare and vulnerable to them.
It filled you with such a shattering and paradoxical sense of control that you wanted to just scream at them both to fuck you right then and there. But somehow found reserve and you held back, only allowing a low, wordless moan escape your lips. You knew they would obey you, and you knew it would be better to draw this out.
Mingyu was fucking you with his mouth, spreading you with his tongue and opening your legs wide so he could fill you with his thick fingers. Two, and then a third moving deep inside of you. You felt the tension inside of you building so tight that you come undone.
Your legs gave out at the mix of his tongue swiping against your clit as his digits curled inside of you, leaving you to rely on Jihoon to keep you from falling over. Mingyu continued to lap at your slit, cleaning up your slick as your orgasm subsided.
After a moment, Jihoon lifted you again so you could get your feet back underneath yourself. You slid your other leg down from Mingyu’s shoulder, and stepped back, panting and heart still racing.
They admired you, the dim light of the evening shining off your bare skin, and you admired them right back, their ties loosened and faces flushed. Jihoon had undone his completely and it hung around his neck, the top button of his shirt undone.
You stepped up to them, and reaching over, grabbed both ends of Jihoon’s tie, and then Mingyu’s, pulling them towards you slightly before letting them slide back out through your fingers.
“Time to get out of those suits,” you said. You turned on your heel and walked to the large bed in the bedroom, laying down once you reached it. You watched them as they started to undress, Mingyu tearing at his tie and Jihoon kicking off his shoes and pulling his belt. You stopped them, saying, “It’s not a race.”
The two guys looked at each other and shrugged. Jihoon started unbuttoning his shirt, slowly, one button at a time. You lounged back on the pillow to watch, trying to look as attentive as possible. When Mingyu’s hand went to his zipper, you let out a quiet cheer.
Mingyu grinned, and began unbuttoning his pants slowly, trying to be dramatic. He wasn’t really succeeding but you didn’t mind and egged him on. You couldn’t deny that them undressing in front of you was turning you on, even after coming just moments before in the living room.
Jihoon, not to be outdone, took off his shirt and rolled his shoulders back, inadvertently flexing the toned muscles of his abdomen. Mingyu took that as a personal challenge, and turning around, flexed his back muscles in a way that caused your mouth to water in need.
Jihoon caught your eye, and started taking off his pants. “Do you like this?” he asked
You nodded. He pushed them slightly lower. “How about this?” His voice was deeper than normal, gravely and making you squirm on the bed in front of him. You started to flush with heat, you nodded again. He inched them down slowly, and you were staring with anticipation.
He decided to tease you a bit, though, and pulled them back up. You fell back on the bed, letting out a slightly over dramatic sigh of frustration. Since when was Jihoon this bold to openly tease you so harshly? Two could play at that game.
You lay on you side, and propped your head up on your hand. “You know what I’d really like to see,” you said. Mingyu turned back around to face you. “I like it when you make out…”
Mingyu turned red at your words. He glanced at Jihoon, who was also sporting a bit of a flushed face. Mingyu decided to take the initiative. He reached over, and placed his palm on Jihoon’s round cheek, running his thumb along his strong cheekbones.
His heart was pounding. He looked into Jihoon’s dark eyes for a moment, and then his gaze dropped to his lips. He slid his hand around the back of Jihoon’s neck and pulled him close. He closed his eyes, then brought his mouth down onto Jihoon’s.
Jihoon slid his hand up Mingyu’s chest, coming to rest near his neck. This wasn’t the first time they had kissed, but it wasn’t nearly as familiar as kissing you. He traced his hand back down Mingyu’s chest, to his abdomen, testing the firmness of his muscles as he went, until he reached the edge of his open pants.
Jihoon leaned back slightly, and watched the other man’s face as he slid his hand inside, tentatively, for the first time. Normally he would leave this for you to do, but something was making him brazen tonight.
You watched the spectacle, your heart in your throat. Mingyu was leaning over Jihoon, so the shorter man had to tilt his face up. Mingyu’s left hand was on Jihoon’s face, and he was nipping at Jihoon’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it.
Jihoon’s hand snaked inside the front of Mingyu’s slacks, and when Mingyu let out a low, muffled groan, you echoed him with one of your own. Your fingers crept down between your legs, the sight was more intense than anything you had experienced before.
Jihoon pushed Mingyu’s pants down, revealing the taut curve of his ass. His hard cock sprang free, Jihoon’s lith fingers wrapped around its length. You moaned, and inserted two fingers in yourself. Mingyu broke away from the kiss at the sound, his attention caught by the sounds you were making as you writhed on the bed.
He kissed Jihoon again, then smiled broadly and taking the smaller man’s hand, led him over to the bed. They swiftly removed the remainder of their clothing. Mingyu flopped down next to you and you all but shrieked when he rolled you over his body.
Scooting over next to the wall and tucking you into his arms, Mingyu left plenty of room on the outside edge for Jihoon, who lay down curved into your back. You snuggled down into them for a minute or two, enjoying how they both felt pressed against you.
You knew if you stayed there for long, however, you would just fall asleep, so you sat up, kneeling between their thighs.
You took each of them in your hands, stroking them idly, watching as they moaned together. You rubbed your thumb across the glossy droplet that seeped out of Jihoon’s tip, then sat back on your heels and looked at them. “How do I decide?”
Mingyu couldn’t help but left out a small laugh at how cute you looked with your hair messy and lips swollen, your innocent eyes looking up at them as you stroked their members. “Dibs” he said, before sitting up, winding his hand into your mane of hair and kissing you hard.
His hot mouth traced down your neck, before latching onto your nipple. You arched into his mouth, standing up on your knees slightly in order to get closer. The hand in your hair slid down between your shoulder blades and he held you in place.
He continued sucking and biting at your nipple until it hardened under his ministrations, and then he gave it a gentle flick with his tongue.
Your eyes widened and you shrieked when Mingyu suddenly lifted you up like you weighed nothing, and spun you around, setting you down on his face, where he began eating your pussy again like he was starving. You were pointed towards his feet, so you put your hands on his broad chest to brace yourself.
Jihoon got to his knees on the edge of the bed, and kissed you. Delicately at first, then a bit rougher, winding his hand through your hair and tipping your head back. You gasped and arched slightly, breaking off the kiss when Mingyu’s tongue found your sensitive clit suddenly and began licking at the bundle of nerves.
Meanwhile, you wrapped your hand around Mingyu’s cock, and then bent to take him in your mouth. Mingyu began to lose all ability to concentrate on what he was doing, and you slide forward onto his chest as you angled to fit him deeper in your mouth. He gripped your thighs hard enough to leave bruises as you worked on his cock.
Jihoon kept his hand fisted in your hair, manually moving your head up and down Mingyu’s length. You struggled to breath around Mingyu’s long member each time he moved his tongue rapidly against your clit.
Mingyu let out an incoherent groan as Jihoon pushed you further down on Mingyu’s cock. Mingyu bit his lip and squeezed your thighs, trying desperately to hold out. He closed his eyes and bucked his hips. “I’m...unghhh...oh god...fuuck…”
You sat up just in time, you and Jihoon both watched as Mingyu’s cum shot out onto his stomach. Jihoon groaned as you worked the shaft, milking the last few drops out of man underneath you.
Jihoon grabbed a shirt from the floor and briskly wiped off Mingyu, who lay boneless with you still on his chest. You were dying to come after having his tongue bring you so close to the edge, but you left Mingyu to catch his breath.
Jihoon, however, was still rock hard. He walked up to the side of the bed and grabbed you around the waist, dragging you roughly sideways. He knew how much you loved being tossed around by them. He slid his fingers between your folds, pleased to find that you were soaked.
He spread you open with his fingers, lining up his thick cock and entering you. You gasped and pressed your forehead to Mingyu’s chest. Mingyu, who was regaining control of his senses a bit, brushed the hair back from your face and turned your head so he could look at your expressions while Jihoon fucked you.
Jihoon thrusted into you hard, shaking your whole body with the force of his movements. He buried himself to the hilt, then slowly withdrew almost to the tip, before slamming into you again. He repeated this motion several times, eliciting a moan or a whimper from you each time.
Mingyu watched your face, your cheek pressed to his chest. Your mouth was open slightly. He pushed your hair back again, and then caressed your cheek, running his thumb across your bottom lip. His movements were distinctly different from the roughness that Jihoon was taking you with.
You were biting down on your lip to hold back your incessant moans. That ended quickly with a sharp slap to your ass. “If I see you holding back again you’re gonna get a lot worse than that.” Jihoon ended his sentence with another slap, reveling in the feeling of you clenching around him.
Jihoon pulled out all the way, replacing his cock with his fingers, thrusting them into you a few times until his hand was slick with your arousal. He then thrust into you again, sliding his soaked fingers into your other entrance.
Mingyu watched as your eyes squeezed shut, moans of pleasure falling from your lips as Jihoon began to work his fingers inside of you. Mingyu could feel cock beginning to stir already. He reached around and began stroking himself slowly.
Jihoon knew he wasn’t going to last long like this, so he pulled out again and stepped back. You arched your back and moaned in protest. Not again, you thought, you were so close to your climax.
You thought you were going to die when Jihoon pulled out. You wanted, needed, these two men to crush you between them. You moved overtop of Mingyu, kissing him roughly and then straddling his thighs. You wrapped your fingers around him and pressed him up against your stomach.
Jihoon turned and dug through a drawer, searching for a bottle of lube. “You two look amazing,” he said, standing there and watching you both. Mingyu had his hands on your ass, your breasts pressed flat into his chest. Your hand was in between you both as you slowly jerked him off.
Jihoon came up behind you and resisted the urge to just grab you and fuck you until you were both screaming. He poured a drop of lube on his finger and slowly began working it in to you.
Your mood had settled from frantic to still. You closed your eyes and relaxed, enjoying the sensations as Jihoon added a second finger. Mingyu kept massaging your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and holding the flesh in his hands.
Eventually Jihoon worked a third finger in, and began sliding them in and out very gently. You had long since stopped stroking Mingyu, as he was holding you too tightly to fit your hand between them. Despite that your could feel that he was as hard as steel beneath your body.
You began rocking into Jihoon’s hand, gradually picking up speed as you relaxed further. That was the signal he needed to take the next step, and after liberal application of lube, began pushing his cock into your ass.
He was met with a lot of resistance; though shorter in length, he was thicker than Mingyu and you had never taken him there before. Mingyu was holding you in his arms, rocking you gently, whispering in your ear the way he always did.
“Shhh, baby, relax. You’re so hot, you got this, baby…” and the absolute tenderness and devotion in his voice made you melt. With a slow thrust, Jihoon was able to enter you.
He rocked against you slowly, watching carefully for any sign of discomfort, but after a few minutes you were pushing back against him again, until he’d managed to get about halfway in. The fullness in your ass was just serving to make your pussy feel so much emptier by contrast.
After a few minutes you whispered, “up…please…”
Jihoon withdrew, and Mingyu sat up, wrapping your legs around him and burying his cock in your wet heat. As soon as you were comfortable, Jihoon worked his legs amongst yours and Mingyu’s, sitting face to face to Mingyu with you between them.
You wrapped your arms around Mingyu’s neck and pulled yourself up briefly, before lowering yourself back down on Jihoon. You were able to control everything like this and you began to move.
You moved slowly at first, unsure of how secure everything was. But soon everyone found their sweet spot and you began moving with more confidence as a rhythm developed.
With each moan that left your mouth, they moved faster. Jihoon fisted his hand in your hair as Mingyu teased your breasts. You cried out at the feeling of them moving side by side. There was never a moment that you were left empty as they found a pattern within each other.
You couldn’t hold back your noises if you tried, your legs shook in place as they moved your weak body between their hard members. Jihoon pulled your head back, arching you against Mingyu so he would whisper into your ear.
“You like this, baby? Being our little fucktoy? Tell him.” He growled as his free hand slapped your backside before he thrusted harder into you.
You could barely breathe, let alone talk, so you just nodded for him. It was like your body was on fire in the best way imaginable. That wasn’t enough for him, and your other cheek received a slap from his open palm.
“Tell him how much you like this cock deep inside of you.” Jihoon said as he forced you to look at Mingyu. His eyes were blown out and glossy, no matter how many times he’d seen the older man manhandle you both in the bedroom, it still sent pangs of pleasure and excitement throughout his body.
“I love… the way you’re fucking me,” you struggled to say as they both thrusted inside of you. With another swat to your ass you continued, “I love being… ahh… your fucktoy.” You felt your cheeks burning, almost embarrassed by how wet you were from it.
Mingyu’s fingertips were teasing your clit, rolling the little nub between his fingers as he felt his peak nearing. Your arousal was pooling beneath you, allowing him to move easily in and out of you.
Your nails dug into Mingyu’s chest as you were wracked with another spasm, your orgasm so close you were shivering between them. Mingyu couldn’t take the feeling of your pulsing core any longer. He came with a sharp thrust into you, filling you with his warm release.
That was the tipping point for you, the feeling of his twitching cock pulled you over the edge. Tears were nearly burning the corners of your eyes and you cried out “I love you!” just as you reached your orgasm.
Jihoon felt your entire body stiffen as you hit your drawn out climax. Your back arched and your legs straightened. Your walls clamped around them both, squeezing their lengths as you came. Jihoon couldn’t hold back any longer, coming with a grunt as he rested his forehead on your shoulder.
Once Jihoon pulled out of you, he fell back onto the bed, dragging you along with him. You were on your back between his legs, still whimpering incoherently as he held you against his chest. Mingyu inched closer to your panting forms, resting against Jihoon’s arm as he soothingly rubbed the other man’s back.
You could feel them shifting around you as you relaxed against them, almost unable to hear Jihoon give you and Mingyu praises for being so good for him. You yawned, wanting to just melt into the mattress as your limbs tangled with each other.
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ragnaofazure · 3 years
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Characters that were, or never were.
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((Hello! This is a list of characters I have actually played on or off the site (like Discord), wanted to or considered quite strongly but never followed suit to do so or whatever.))
((It will all be under read more; this is a long post! If you are interested? Have fun discovering who was in any corner of my repertoire! The list should not be that extensive! I will reblog it if I added anyone new I could recall and forgot to initially should that happen. These are mostly in some form of chronological order with added notes about what their place is with me and more.))
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Yu Narukami - (Persona 4)  
Additional note: (Have to biasedly put him first at the top and say how he was my true first muse here, lasted literal years. All my experience comes from him and his blog. He reached nearly 1k followers between both regular and not safe blogs, my true labor of love lost to me deciding to deactivate the blog. Some know me from him originally! You all know who you are!))
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Sal (or “Syake”/”Syake-san”) - (Wadanohara and the Great Blue Sea)
Additional note: (My first attempt at a second character and his blog did kinda work for a while, getting a lot of interactions during the original Funamusea craze back in the day. First time playing a truly well evil character and learned lots. His blog eventually died down and faded, but it was an experience I haven’t forgotten.)
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Nepgear - (Hyperdimension Neptunia)
Additional note: (A standalone blog attempt again, flopped hard due to how the fandom seemed to have it’s problems on the RP side as well as my own personal reservations (met some couple of awesome people there still around me today though!). One of the most ways to trash a character by a series that had a bit of an identity crisis in the writing department as the years went on. Still not over how hard they literally screwed this good girl over. Every single time.)
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Iku Nagae - (Touhou Project)
Additional note: (Part of an incredibly failed multimuse project (that Nepgear was the face of and part of as well for that matter after her blog flopped) and she never got to really experience light of day. I had only the idea of how I wished to portray the character and I still do, but at the same time, I have no idea if it would have earned me the most interactions, admittedly. All due to how passive she is.)
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Varus - (League of Legends)
Additional note: (Me having a thing for characters with tragic stories of loss? Are doomed as if fittingly to pay for their sins and as a cost for the tools to live and revenge? He spoke to me way before Ragna. I knew how I wanted to write him, give him flair given his character, which other Champions I wished for him to interact with soon... I had a much clearer idea. But ultimately, also part of the doomed multimuse blog that never took off.)
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Goomy - (Pokémon)
Additional note: (No gijinka, only small, sticky bby that I debatably would never allow to evolve and, of course, could talk. Best Dragon type line to ever exist don’t even @ me okay. It’s just... cute. The anime really made it stick out and I loved it. I always also have loved essentially weaker characters and creatures a lot, thus... It resonated with me greatly and idea of how I was going to go about him (yes, had decided on male for it). Again, multimuse failed, so he went away with it.)
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Karol Capel - (Tales of Vesperia)
Additional note: (Weak that could be truly strong when overcoming his fears, and that resonated with me given how I consider myself a coward in real life. I also have a thing also for playing characters everyone finds annoying to make them look better when they should not be as disliked too. And once more, multimuse, gone with it, never found a place to remotely discover if I would have also wanted to play him at large either too.)
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Elphelt Valentine - (Guilty Gear)
Additional note: (I don’t need to say anything, most of you knew her enough! Blog flopped hard and I couldn’t find the activity I desired. Why I played her? Just... bubbly sweet girl that didn’t want to act on her capability to be deadly as a Gear and only wished for happiness, I liked all that sugar with that depth I tried to give her. As of recent times, Tumblr locked me out and I could not log back in. I sort of took it as a message as to why I maybe shouldn’t try with secondary blogs to a big degree.)
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The Masochistic Admiral/Commander/Master(?)/Doctor(?) - (Kantai Collection-Azur Lane (Maybe even Fate and Arknights???) )
Additional note: (So this is a nameless original Admiral/Commander character by the artist known as “Yamamoto Arifred” (look up on danbooru tags under Kantai Collection alongside). I absolutely fell in love with this guy. How I wish it was possible to play him further then I did, I revisit the art work every so often and every day I recall why I liked him so, so much. He’s just beyond amusing, wacky, outright insane and nonsensical in many good shapes and forms. But he only wants one thing: All under him to succeed and become the best they can be under his very questionable yet effective command. I could go on and on but this is already long enough. Standalone blog, flopped due to lack of activity.)
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Thief (”Touzoku”) Arthur - (Million Arthur series)
Additional note: (Super unknown series, super unknown plot, I only met all the characters via the available and uncared for fighting game... And her backstory plus design gave me so many ideas I wanted to play around with as a thief wielding a goddamn Excalibur. Of the first characters I said I wanted to play on impulse alone, but who would have cared? Where could she have fit? It was the bigger discouraging thoughts. I have some icons still... But as always, the hesitation from impulse in itself.)
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Hassan of the Serenity - (Fate Prototype/Fragments - Grand Order)
Additional note: (Best Assassin, best girl, only Servant that has brought me to tears in this extensive series, for the love of anything holy let her be happy I swear to God, everything about her cuts me so deep, I can’t deal with it every time I think about it ...I’m calm. But really. She touched me so, so deep. I was normally indifferent for so many years about Fate until I stumbled upon the Prototype duology, and subsequently, the Fragments side. After learning her origins and more, her wishes... I can’t state it enough. I am passionate about this girl. She deserves the world. And I would have loved to give her the best if I got to write her.)
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Peri - (Fire Emblem Fates - Heroes)
Additional note: (What everyone sees as an annoying, questionable character and way more, I see as yet another pick for me with great potential to try and develop to be liked more by many, for she is not completely disposeable. I had ideas and wanted to take her further while still having her not lose the tendencies she has, because that would be breaking and disregarding character, but sadly, Peri never as much as left my constant thoughts then trying to privately sample around for myself, would have loved to, though. Very.)
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Sigurd - (Fate Grand Order)
Additional note: (Amazing design, amazing voice... Literal definition of: “Do it for her”, loves his partner despite their fate... Incredibly underrated man. He is simply the best and I was interested in finding footing to play him, as he deserves to be noticed more for just being... Simply amazing. There is not much more to say than that, he is cool and that is final. Don’t even fight me on these cold, hard facts.)
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melissatreglia · 5 years
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Did You Miss Me?: Darkiplier in 2018
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For the most part, 2018 was a quiet year. In contrast with 2017, where we were gratified to see Dark's monochromatic visage throughout the year, 2018 carried playful hints and teasing of the elusive entity's presence but no confirmation. There were thumbnails and quick flashes that indicated He was continuing to pull strings, ensuring that His presence was felt but His face never really seen.
Throughout 2017, He'd show up during what us mere mortals consider major holidays or important events. Valentine's Day. Easter. Even Cinco de Mayo got a nod. And of course, the infamous Friday the 13th late in the year.
But 2018? He apparently decided to stay home in the void during our days of revelry, with the possible (though not confirmed) exception of the decidedly strange Fall in Love with Markiplier video for Valentine's Day. And for the TWO Friday the 13ths in 2018? He was a no-show. In 2017, He'd returned to shake things up in our safe little lives... and in 2018, He left us wanting more, like the skilled manipulative seducer He is.
Getting Over It, Part 8 included a thumbnail with Mark's dour expression and a suspiciously familiar colour scheme. The thumbnail for WATCH OUT!! had Mark reaching for us in a state of panic (which belied the contents of the video itself). 
Try Not to Smile Challenge #3, while the smile-free serial killer laugh is creepy, it's not a Darkiplier moment. Though, him joking near the end of the video that people who didn’t smile at some point during the video are "soulless demons" does seem to be a Darkiplier reference of some kind (or maybe a Devilplier reference, since the Cuphead song was released just two months later)?
In Madison, when his game character watches a television that glitches and fades to static, Mark fearfully squeaks, "Darkiplier, is that You?!" While in the description for End My Suffering, just ten days later, Mark wailed, "What malevolent being did I piss off to be cursed like this!"
Brother Wake Up promised "I’ll try to help in whatever way I can but you have to wake up!" Which, while it fit perfectly with the title of the game, the description also fit pretty damn well into the channel lore too. And Umfend's description was likewise ominous: "You shouldn't have forgotten about me... I'll make you remember..."
Meanwhile, the title for the video of Welcome The The Game 2.0 doubles as a callback to an earlier Darkiplier moment: "Don't Play This Game". Horns of Fear did it one better, with the thumbnail featuring many eyes staring out at the viewer (again with an all-too-familiar colour scheme), while the title warned us "DON'T LOOK AWAY..."
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In the Warframe playthrough late in the year, Mark's camera briefly freezes. But in 3 Scary Games #9, his camera freezes repeatedly before glitching back to normal, and he implies that "there's something else" messing with the camera. In 5 Nostalgic Games, when Mark gives the definition of ubiquitous and bares his teeth while saying "We're learning today!", the video suddenly glitches. 
The thumbnail for Markiplier has fled the country had Mark lunging at the camera, his face completely darkened by shadow. And the thumbnail for 3.75 Scary Games blatantly toyed with the fandom with text shouting "DARKIPLIER?"
And the fanbaiting didn't stop there. More thumbnails that hinted at Dark included a hand bathed in blue light reaching out to the viewer for the fittingly titled The Devil Haunts Me, and a cartoon of Mark cowering away from Dark's furious glare for You're Perfect.  
Markiplier's Tour: The Movie featured the improv teacher stating that Markiplier wasn't at the shows. "I don't know who that guy was, but it wasn't him." Even the Markiplier Animated short I've Got Boobs?! features a brief scene of a shadowy Darkiplier rising from a well and whispering something unintelligible.
For the most part however, the teasing came directly from out of Mark’s mouth.
In 3 Scary Games #5, Mark jokes that a ghost (clad in the classic white sheet and glitching somewhat) is Darkiplier. 3 Scary Games #13, the first (jokey) game called "Death Trips" features RGB text and Mark narrating in an echoing voice. In Midnight Shift, a game where Mark is memorably being chased by mannequins, he jokes that an RGB poster on a wall is "expricitly [sic] Darkiplier". In SCP Containment Breach #57, Mark jokes when he sees the intro screen of a pretty lady in 3D with an open third eye, "Look at this Darkiplier ass thing... it's like Celine, straight out of [Who Killed Markiplier?]". 
In 3 FNAF Fan Games, he even chortles that the game has “Darkiplier letters.” In Devil Daggers, he scoffs, “A high-pitched ringing in the darkness. That’s always good.”
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[Image captured by me, on June 3, 2018.] 
Just before midsummer, I received a pleasant surprise. In Imscared: Steam Edition, Mark says "I gotta go get back into the Shadow Realm, the Upside Down." Which, personally, made me very happy at the time. Since I first became active on Tumblr in July 2017, I've been referring to Dark's void dimension as the Shadow Realm, while Mark has referred to it in the past as the Upside Down, making the link fairly clear in this statement. (Somehow, whether by happy accident or serendipity, my terminology and its proper context made its way to Mark. As a fan, I can't describe how pleased that made me, to know he might have actually seen something I’ve made.)
(But enough about me. I’m just an obsessive Darkiplier fangirl. So let’s get back to cataloging all the hinty goodness!)
By this point, you’re probably wondering, “Okay, so all those hints are decent. But where the hell is Dark in all of this?!” But that’s the point, my friends: He was there the whole time. In brief flashes of imagery, in hints and innuendo. Unseen, but his presence clearly felt as our expectations were played with by our channel host.
We expected a wild ride at the beginning, when Mark made two brief livestreams on January 5th, wandering through the theatre he was slated to play for the You’re Welcome Tour. 
The first of the two, “What’s Going In?!”, he showed us the back area of the Paramount Theatre, using only improvised narration and acting to build an atmosphere of dread. He claimed the theatre was haunted, and that he could smell “the scent of death”, ultimately vowing to protect those who would be visiting the theatre to see him that night. He also declares the EXIT a trap, before being pursued by an unseen entity.
The drama continued with “...” (a title that is impossible to find using Youtube’s search options), that begins with an eerie quiet. Tyler eventually finds Mark’s dropped phone. He asks the viewers where Mark is, before going on a search. He’s eventually attacked from behind and the stream cuts off, leaving those who weren’t at the show that night to wonder how the matter resolved.
In Simulacra, there's a brief flash of Mark in his Big Mood outfit with text saying "WAKE UP". When the simulacra changes the colour of the cellphone's display and begins to speak in a calm, creepy voice, Mark reflexively responds, "Darkiplier?" and sounding unnerved at the mention of "behind your black mirrors", then being stunned as the screen appears to crack.
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At the end of Simulacra, he gives an uncharacteristically downbeat speech, declaring that "We're all just digital copies of ourselves, idealized in a digital form. And maybe that's the way that life is just supposed to be. Maybe we should all just roll over and accept it, because there's nothing that we can do to change our fates, after all. And who's to say that it's not better for us just to wear the masks that are our digital personas, and live our lives as those? Maybe that is for the best."
The How To Make Slime video goes from harmlessly silly and takes a twist for the stabby. Mark declares "In order to appease the Dark Gods..." then he instructs the viewer to slice their palm and "whisper the words of power." The words in question? "They shall rise. They shall consume. All will be lost when they rise from the darkness of the ocean. Madness opens up to everything." When the making of the slime is concluded, he adds that "We all get to enjoy three years of peace before the Dark Gods consume us all."
I have no idea what that means, but I’m pretty sure it may involve Cthulhu chomping on my kidneys. (Then again, Darkiplier is a Lovecraftian monstrosity Himself. So, if it’s Him who’s one of the Dark Gods? He can have a kidney from me if He’s really that hungry. Kidneys are a redundant system anyway, so you really only need one.)
April Fool’s Day brought us the gag gift of The Official Markiplier Rock, with a suspiciously deep voice informing us that the rock is available in white. Additionally, the video warned to alert the SCP Foundation if the rock appears to start talking! (What? My rock has been talking to me since I got it, and there’s nothing wrong with me!)
Baldi’s Basics: Secret Ending featured an explanation about attaining the secret ending, with Mark’s otherwise normal voice echoing slightly with subtle white noise effects. (Hmmm...)
In December, for the charity livestream and archived in a video called Santa Spills The Tea, a Santa Claus that sounded suspiciously like Wilford Warfstache declared that Dark, the master manipulator and Big Bad of Mark’s channel, was a “sweetheart! He shouts a lot, but he’s just a big ol’ pussy. He can’t even possibly… he didn’t hurt anybody! He didn’t kill one person! If there’s anybody who’s on my naughty li— uh, on my list of people who’ve been bad, he’s the only one not on it.” (And mind you, in 2017′s Markiplier TV, Wilford sang a little ditty about how he killed Santa Claus and the kids wouldn’t be getting any presents that year. And Dark still convinced us to shoot someone in A Date With Markiplier, while apparently feigning regret. But heck, use your own judgement.)
Mark also dropped one heck of a hint of things to come in, of all places, Markiplier Tries Korean Beauty Products. There, the descriptive intro to the following year’s DAMIEN animated feature can be heard at one point. “Snow blankets the field, a pristine meadow of untouched white. No animals call. No birds cry. Only the steady rustling of wind through dead trees accented by the impact of his axe. A crack-like thunder rings out as the ancient pine finally succumbs to his murderous assault. The old giant crashes into the ground. Dami-”
Wilford Motherloving Warfstache was, of course, focused on the mustachioed entity. But there were elements to the short film that felt like Darkiplier was watching along with us. Particularly the VHS-style glitch at the end of the film.
Of course, there were only three videos that year that potentially contained Darkiplier himself.
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One candidate is Fall in Love with Markiplier. Yes, the name on the title is Mark’s... but is it really him? The entirety of the film is a fourteen minute staring contest with Mark, as he lovingly (and somehow also creepily) gazes at the viewer in different settings -- by the ocean, at a dog park, and in a bubble bath. The only spoken words are in the intro, over the strains of the music from A Date with Markiplier: “It’s scientifically proven that you can fall in love with someone simply by maintaining eye-contact for an extended period of time. So now, you can fall in love with Markiplier all over again in these three locations. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
The second candidate is World’s 5th Quietest Let’s Play, released just 5 days prior to the Let’s Have a Romantic Staring Contest video. Unlike the previously mentioned video, there’s more going on this time around. The game to be played quietly this time around is Bennett Foddy’s infamous rage-inducing creation “Getting Over It”. 
He threatens the developer with the words, “You will see the inside of your entrails, when I drag them out of your abdomen and show them to you.” (Ah, how romantic.) He goes even further than that, saying soon after, “This is a representation of My sins... You will be purged in the fires of absolution, along with all of your ilk. I will burn the heretics that you are harbouring inside of your soul... I will destroy you.” (Now there’s the smite-happy Hellgod we all love!)
But He doesn’t stop there, snarling under His breath, “You will burn in the fires of My own hell! And I will choose your pain to last eternity!” However, He is ultimately defeated by the game, departing our company with  “Alas, I leave you now, to slumber amongst the ancients.” (Aww, poor guy needs a hug. And I know just who’s ready to snuggle with Him...)
But the last of the video to potentially contain Darkiplier is... the four-hour long play through of Hearts & Heroes. Is it canon Dark? No, probably not. It’s a fan game, though the words of dialogue are acted out by Mark himself. But rather than simply recounting key phrases for you, here’s the Boss Battle between Mark’s team and Dark, edited by the lovely icedpinkpeebles (Mark’s goofy character names and all!):
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So, what does all of this ultimately mean? Why did Darkiplier fade into the background in 2018? And, most importantly, what is He up to now?
The truth is I don’t know any more than you do. I can only guess.
But I can tell you this: We don’t know Darkiplier as well as we all think we do. Many of us (including me) fully expected Dark to raise hell following the events of the jokey Darkiplier vs Antisepticeye video in 2017 (because He did mention how He hates being mocked!). And while we did get more Dark at the end of that year, it was in the form of an origin story.
Whatever Dark’s planning, we’re not going to see it coming. Because He’s playing a long game. And when you’re immortal like He is, you have all the time in the world to get what you want. Be it for love or revenge, Darkiplier remains a force to be reckoned with.
But here we are, in the eye of the storm. Only time will tell before the final wrath of the hurricane makes landfall.
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thedeadwritinggod · 4 years
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Of Spider Liles and White Roses
Warnings: Hanahaki so- Blood, Pain, angst not good angst but angst.
This text is thoughts! This is emphasis
Taglist- @the-lavender-creator @zappy-ghosty-girl
No no no no no no no-
Yukio stares in horror at the bloody white flower in absolute panic.
“A-Atsuki-“ he almost yelled taking off running for her. She knew flowers. Especially soulmate Flowers.
Anxiously he sat on her bed while she ran her fingers over the petals.
Five simple petals.
A small flower- “Colors?”
“White and yellow in the middle.”
.......
“Yukio this is a primrose.”
“And that means....?”
“ Young love-unrequited love and ‘I can’t live without you’. Worryingly enough...”
“Oh god.”
“How long have you known this person?” Atsuki asked feeling the flower.
“A week and a half- why?”
“You expect rejection much too quickly Yukio.”
The boy ran a hand through his hair “trying not too is very when that’s all you’ve gotten in three years.”
Atsuki found his hand, then trailed up gently to his face. “Little brother, you need to try. If you’re spitting these up then don’t you think he is too?”
He takes her hand gently, keeping it pressed to his face. “.....maybe.”
- 1 week later
Thomas is bent over the toilet puking his guts-well lungs more accurately.
Fittingly Deceit is the one rubbing his back, Virgil occupied with distracting Roman from the sprouting burning pains in his arms and chest.
They had known-eventually that roots would form in his lungs. They hadn’t known that Patton would start sprouting flowers from his skin. Or that Roman would be reduced to rything and crying in pain at it.
“T-Thomas you can’t keep this up-“
“I’ve known him a two and a half weeks-do you even realize how creepy that’d sound?!”
“I realize that but Roman is more important then that-isn’t he?”
Dead silence.... he wanted to say yes because Roman is so important to him, a completely essential part of himself and an amazing person on his own but-
“Dee I can’t- I can’t-I don’t want to loose him-“ Small tears pricked at his eyes- he knows Roman is suffering and the guilt he feels is 100% real. But that doesn’t make the petals in his throat go away.
“He-Yukio really does mean a lot to you-“
“I’m puking flowers deceit-”
“Point taken.” He sighed. “But if I may-“ Deceit pauses “if you’re in this state-then what state is he in?”
-
That night they made a mistake.
Why the hell neither of them thought texting each other in their respective states would be okay is beyond them both.
They figured it out about the same time. The same way.
Yukio sat ip quickly-forced to by the painful contractions of his muscles-forcing stringy red petals and whole primrose out of his lungs and mouth.
Spider Lily’s now? Hell flowers? Well fate didn’t have to taunt him for it-
With a sigh he cleaned the blood from his phone with a tissue and wiped the pain caused tears from his eyes.
Thomas had petals all over his lap. Soft pink and white being washed out from the bright light of his phone. The pink ones weren’t new. Thanks to Raven he knew that they were pink Peonies.
He wiped his screen free of the flowers- smearing blood at the same time, taking a tissue he wiped it off. Trying to ignore the way his bruised lungs aced and how his ribs felt close to splitting.
-
Fitting. Yukio looked down at the spider lily in his hand. A beautiful flower. Poisonous as it is beautiful.
Love sucks. He shoved the flower along with the stray Primrose petals into his violin case.
His head could tell him to do it all it wanted. His heart would rather stop beating then confess. And as much as he’d said no- 7 year olds couldn’t be argued with. Which is why he soon saw feet by the case of his violin.
Pushing down the full feeling in his throat Yukio smiles up at him. “Hi Thomas.”
“Hi Yukio.” A warm smiling boy greats him and suddenly the full feeling is hard to ignore.
“Glad you could make it,” If Thomas thought all his sides saying different things was annoying, then all saying one thing down right hurt- tell him!
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world” The ache in Thomas’ chest grew into a dull burn and his throat jerked.
“You should head back to the seats before the director kicks you out. Literally.” Yukio chuckled- Thomas could still feel his heart skip through the burning sensation.
As soon as he left every petal in his throat came rushing out- Until one didn’t.
He could feel that a spider lily was loged in his throat blocking everything else from spilling out.
Slowly his fingers felt strange and numb as his vision stared to darken out at the edges-edges that were quickly closing in. Was he-passing out? Was he gonna die?
Not tonight.
Suddenly he violently spit up 5 whole flowers. Three primrose and two spider Lily’s.
It’s not like Thomas was really much better. He had moved from coughing up just coughing up flowers and petals to coughing up steams and thorns. Cutting up and scratching at his throat, making him spit up more blood.
Instead of his sides screaming at him- it was just endless screams from Roman. Only. Roman. Blood curdling, drive you up the wall insane screams. He sat in the bathroom for a good five minutes curled into a ball- hands over his ears trying to muffle or stop the screaming in his head. Tears welling up in his eyes and spilling helplessly on the floor.
-
When Yukio finally looked up from his bloody coughing fit he saw the first chair, Aria, handing him a tissue.
She bent down, gingerly wiping his violin down from all the blood he’d coughed up- “Takashi?”
Angry Aria is bad Aria. And last name means angry Aria. “Yes...?”
“You love to sing right?”
A agreeing hum.
“You love your voice right?”
“Eh I could always do better.”
“Takashi.”
“Yes I love my voice” he rolled his eyes with a sigh-
“Then use it you dumbass.” Yukio raised an eyebrow at his friend
-
Thomas hiccuped harshly-trying to breath through the roots and thorns in his lungs- it hurt, it really really hurt.
He couldn’t catch his breath- like his lungs were full of holes, which just maybe wasn’t so wrong.
He only realized he had screwed his eyes shut when he had to pry them open at the harsh coughing nearby. He hadn’t realized he’d cried either.
Through the blur of tears he could see petals that weren’t his own slippe under the stall door- stringy red flowers along with purple flowers that had yellow eyes
“You got it too?” The other boy asked- his voice was broken and tired, pained. Much like his own
“Mhm- why don’t you confess?” As much as it took to force the words out it worked, his voice was certainly shot for a while after all this- if there was in fact an after all this.
In return he got a dry laugh “He wouldn’t love me. He doesn’t love me.”
“How would you know?”
“I’ve known him for like 3 and a half weeks.” Thomas can actually hear the eyeroll in his voice.
“Honestly I’m the same”
Whoever he was slid down against the stall door.
“What’s he like? If you can-“
“He’s.....”
Thomas paused. Letting his head fall back against the wall.
“He’s amazing. Plays like five instruments, hell he’s the second chair violinist in this-“ and suddenly everything was gone.
The roots in his lungs, the flowers in his throat, the thorns, the pain, the strain, the screaming in his head- all gone.
“.......Yuki-“
“I love you too.”
They both sat in silence for a moment. A moment that felt like an hour. Before the door opened, he must’ve forgotten to lock it-
He stood up frantically “I-“ there lips were sealed together before anything could really be said
And that was probably the best damn solo Yukio had played to date, happier then anything had ever made him.
Throughout the performance he didn’t bother the sheet music favoring the look of his new blushing boyfriend shrouded in the partial darkness of the audience seats.
“Watch your music you lovestruck idiot-“
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tassium · 5 years
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#TAYLOR SWIFT APPRECIATION LIFE
PART 3 - Speak Now
(part 1, part 2)
Hello and again, welcome to the Taylor Swift Appreciation Life. We hope your brief detention in the relaxation vault-- wait, wrong fandom.
This is probably getting posted in the middle of the night, which doesn’t bode well for anyone actually seeing it, but oh well. It’s time to hop in and see a little more from the amazing @taylorswift by taking the ride through her third album, Speak Now.
1. Mine
I really like this track, but I don’t have a whole lot to say about it. The storytelling in the lyrics is probably my favorite thing about it, and the way the instrumentation propels the song along. And.... I’ve heard varying opinions on the way it turns around and she’s “quoting” the love interest of the story. Personally, I like it. I like thinking of it as if he said that and it’s what inspired her to use the line as such a key part of the song.
And I’ve gotta be honest here, the POP mix bonus track version doesn’t really hit me that hard. I can’t pick out enough of a difference between the two that I really care all that much about that version.
2. Sparks Fly
This is one of my favorite tracks on this album. I like the understated instrumentation behind the verses and the way it just drops into the chorus in a way that feels like going over the first rise on a roller coaster - the way there’s nothing behind her voice for “Drop everything now” feels like that moment where you know it’s coming and you kind of pull in a breath and then you’re irrevocably In The Moment. 
She does a lot of really cool vocal things - in the second verse I love the way she does that warble on “really wish you wo-ould”. Another favorite is the vocalization in the background of the last chorus. Instrumentally speaking, the solo before the bridge is one of my favorites because of how it’s just a little different from the main motif of the song, and I adore the strident guitar and drums behind the bridge itself.
This song also has the first of several mentions throughout her songs of green eyes! Same, Taylor, same.
3. Back to December
I’m just gonna jump ahead and talk about the acoustic version of this song that’s on the target deluxe version, because if given the choice, I’d pick that one to listen to any day. The strings are my favorite part of the original version, and so the fact that the acoustic version lets them shine just that much more is excellent in my opinion. I also like the way that the harmonies stand out a little bit more - usually I prefer the ones where it’s Taylor overdubbing her own harmonies, but in this one I really like how it sounds with that male voice in the background - it actually makes me think that this song has a lot of potential for being made into a duet song with that delicious aching kind of mutual regret feeling.
4. Speak Now
I don’t know about anyone else, but I really like this song. There’s a lot of really smart choices made, both vocally and in the instrumentals (like the way the drums don’t drop in until the second half of the first verse) and overall I think it’s a solid track.
Over the course of relistening to this early work of Taylor’s for these reviews, though, I’ve also had a thought - Speak Now is the culmination of an escalating pattern of Standing Up And Stealing Other Girls’ Guys that’s been going on through both of the other albums. You have Teardrops on my Guitar, where she just pines herself into oblivion over the boy - then you have You Belong With Me, where she actually does something about it, and now we have this, where she literally breaks up an engagement IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WEDDING in order to get her chance at the boy she’s been daydreaming about.
5. Dear John
Easily my favorite track on this album. This is an optimal example of Taylor’s ability to take a song and build it up until it just explodes, even beyond the chorus. The way the song just soars in the bridge, complete with the way her voice just goes a little ragged on "burned them out”.... man. I love it. I love it so much. Another of my favorite moments is when the harmonies slide in with “run as fast as you can” as if that’s the ‘they’ who said that to her.
I think Taylor’s voice really shines in this track in a way that was really foreshadowing of her current vocal talents.
I’ll also never be over the fact that John Mayer claimed this song for being about him. He could have just been like ‘oh yeah I dunno, a dear john letter is a breakup letter right’ but no. He brought it down on himself. “You should’ve known.”
6. Mean
Mean is a jam, and I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise. I’ll bop to this song anytime. I love the bending fiddle between the chorus and the second verse, probably my favorite musical choice in the song overall. The mandolin and the banjo are way up there as well, just in general. There’s something so delightfully vindictive about this track, such a clap back at the haters - and I get Taylor singing her own harmonies, which you already know I love to pieces. (Is it just me, or could Mean be the little sister of Calm Down?)
“Someday, I’ll be, singing this at the grammy’s…. and all you’re gonna be is mean”
7. The Story of Us
THE STORY OF US IS A BANGER, END OF DISCUSSION
…..
ok not really, because I have more feelings to express first.
Taylor’s vocals soar at the end of this track, and I honestly cannot get over the sheer improvement from Fearless to Speak Now when it comes to that. Those belted notes give me life. I love the ‘next chapter’ and ‘the end’ spoken lines, they’re the best for when I’m singing along and dancing around my kitchen. This song is nearer and dearer to my heart than I even realized coming into this review, and I will go to bat for it anytime anyplace any day.
8. Never Grow Up
It sure is a song, alright. It’s a pretty arrangement, and I like the harmonies, but I... don’t have much for strong feelings about this one.
9. Enchanted
Mmmmm, this one’s so pretty. The opening, I love whatever that is in the background, maybe it’s a keyboard? It’s beautiful and ethereal, at any rate, and I love it. The track builds so beautifully to an absolute monster of a chorus - the lead guitar up into that drum hit is a classic and I love it to pieces.
And don’t even get me started on the ending “please don’t be....” etc bit and the use of stereo - listening to this track in headphones is a treat and I love the high in one side and low in the other, accompanied by that soft vocalizing centralized that leads into the belting before we hit another chorus.
It wasn’t until I was listening to this song to write this post up that I noticed that if you really focus you can hear her singing that repetition behind the second half of the last chorus, but I think it’s only on the left. It’s a really nice touch.
10. Better Than Revenge
I’m just gonna go ahead and quote you a conversation my friend @defiantlywhole had about this track to explain my feelings:
Me:  listen. listen. i fully agree with "Better than revenge? we don't know her" but. it's such a banger. i hate it. i love it. why 
Her:  SAME! Dude esp with the whole sb-squared issue. If we could just. Recognize that better than revenge is problematic and love her anyway?? Can you imagine the kind of cool shit the fandom coulda churned out last month? I just want graphics that yell THERE IS NOTHING I DO BETTER THAN REVENGE at them for trying to force Taylor to stay and then punishing her for leaving
So if you wanna know my opinions, there you go. there they are. 
Also i’m never going to be able to unhear “she’s full of springs and she’s not what you think, she’s a mattress” from @stateofswiftpod​ (have you gotten the message to listen to their podcast yet? this is the last of her main albums they’ve talked about so. now’s the time.)
11. Innocent
This isn’t a track I seek out to listen to, like, ever... but it’s a pretty piece of music, and her voice is lovely. Honestly, there’s something about it that just makes me sad, which is probably why I don’t seek it out. Listening to it to write this, thought, I am noticing a lot of things about it that I’d forgotten or maybe not even noticed in the first place - like the haunting background vocalizations that I’d missed previously, and the choices in the instrumentals. There something about this song that just feels heavy, if that makes sense. It just sits right on my chest, and I’m not sure if I like it.
12. Haunted
Speaking of liking acoustic versions of songs better, this is definitely one of them. Don’t get me wrong, I love the original version, but...The piano just hits so much harder for some reason than anything about the original manages, and her vocal delivery is so aching and beautiful and just. Shivers, every time.
The backing vocals come across as very dark, almost, fittingly so to go with a song with the topic and title this one has. Her soaring vocalization in the bridge, and the way her voice breaks when she drops into the low note... man, I can’t even. I don’t have words for what this acoustic track does to me. The note after the last chorus is what gets me the most thought, the almost mourning wavering she sneaks into it and just... I love this song, okay.
13. Last Kiss
This track is so beautiful, but speaking of songs that make me sad. Good heavens. I hadn’t listened to this one in a while prior to this listen through the album and it hit me so hard. Legitimate tears.
I can’t even put it into words - this song is a masterpiece of emotion.
14. Long Live
This song also makes me cry, but for entirely different reasons. Somehow it has even more of an impact now, after seeing everything that’s happened for her and after having been privileged enough to see her live with one of my best friends. This song takes that weight still hanging on my chest from the last few tracks and pushes it aside, replaces it with a bursting pride for this woman who I’ve never met and probably never will. She’s done so well.
To be more specific - there’s some incredible guitar work on this song, and I adore the “THIS IS ABSURD” part - and “tell them how I hope they shine” will always make me cry. I love that she wrote this song, and I love that things have only kept going. That belted “fall” at the end of that post-chorus or whatever it is that then also fades and falls away. The ethereal Aaahs in the background of the bridge. The way she leans into the last “all the mountains we moved”. Gosh. It’s all too much.
Proper full bonus track time!
15. Ours
This is definitely my favorite of the bonus tracks. I’m a little sad it got relegated to a bonus track, since there’s definitely songs that I’d cut in favor of letting this one onto the list, but I’m just glad we have it in the first place.
I’m extremely fond of this song - it’s connected to playing music with my dad (who bought me my first guitar - well, him and my mom both) because we’ve teamed up to do this song, and so that gives me all kinds of happy feelings when I listen to this one.
I don’t have much for specific comments on this one, but it’s a Good.
16. If This Was a Movie
I love the guitar opening for this song, it’s on my list of songs to learn to play one of these days. The first few times I heard the song, I definitely didn’t hear “to me-e like” properly, but now that I know what it’s supposed to be, I don’t struggle too much, thankfully. Overall, I like the song - there are things about it that I’m not super fond of, but there are more things that I do like (the drop after the bridge is definitely one of them).
17. Superman
This one’s a bop. She’s a cute little number. Optimal dancing around my room (a la the you belong with me video) material. I won’t say this track is any work of genius or anything, but it’s a solid danceable pop song, and sometimes that’s all you need.
Whew! We’ve done it again. It’s 3am where I am at the time of writing this, so I’m going to go to bed now, but tomorrow we’ll start our transition into New Taylor. I don’t know about you, but I’m excited.
Next up: Red
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cateringisalie · 5 years
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Renegade Aeris x Cloud Week 2019 Day 1
Some of this was inspired by (no longer on Ao3) ‘Gossip Finds’ by icyboots - which, somewhat fittingly, turned out I had misremembered a number of details in the interim. Written for the prompt ‘OG Reminiscence’ and ‘One Scene’ (and not, you know, going with my original stranger impulse of something set in space in the far future onboard a ship named the OG Reminiscence): an AU of some sort:
The memory was oft-visited. This meant in turn that it was no longer authentic, or perhaps more accurately, it had acquired embellishments, edits, given a shinier veneer than the real. It was all too possible that rather than a singular version of the event in question, it was fragments of many different occasions, or perhaps mostly from one night with highlights for another. The recall and revisiting of the memory changed it over time. Impossible to prevent.
No matter; it remained one of Aeris’s favorites. The trip to the Gold Saucer had been part of a birthday celebration. Most likely hers, but even this detail was unclear. That was more the result of the alcohol than anything else. The Gold Saucer was nominally an amusement park and to that end felt focused on a younger audience than Aeris’s twenty-two years accounted for. This was not quite correct. While the big attractions were family friendly (rollercoasters! Arcades! Overly gothic hotel!) there was amongst, beside and beyond those activities others intended for a more mature audience. Certainly the Chocobo Races while entertaining for the youngsters had its area set up specifically for wagers. Battle square was barred to anyone below eighteen – and few kids would ever find something of interest in amongst Dio’s massed collection of trinkets and artefacts. Plus there were bars – were Aeris and friends had spent a good majority of their time before crashing into the theatre. In retrospect, and in the clear light of day, what was supposed to be happening in the theatre had a lot of question marks over it. Aeris was clear enough on what she did, where she had gone, how she wound up involved and the aftermath. But surely something was wrong? Had they somehow crashed some event while drunk they were not supposed to? Not a thing to dwell on again. No memory of disappointed, angry adults and bawling kids as a result. But then- No matter. The attendants had asked for volunteers and Aeris thought it sounded fun. She was ushered up from the crowd and backstage to the cheering of her friends. Did she have lines? She’d said something that sounded right. Maybe improvised. Maybe not. Either way she was taken up into the rafters and clipped into a harness alongside a bulky guy wearing a cartoonish dragon costume. Below the play carried on to much raucous laughter from the audience. Another volunteer was on-stage – and from this vantage point – out of sight. He seemed to be taking this all about as seriously as Aeris; not at all. The cast did not help matters, leaving obvious loop-holes in his responses and actions. “Seek out the one who can help you!” Boomed a voice over the loudspeakers. “Hey.” “I, um. Are you sure I, a mere knight, are the one who can help you defeat the Evil Magical Dragon King?” “Yep.” The audience chortled again. The man behind her murmured something; before she could parse his words, she plummeted to the stage alongside him, the harness not offering much of a break. Warm and bright out in front of the lights. To the back and right of the stage was a man dressed as a wizard looking off-stage while a woman with a headset mouthed instructions at him. Towards the front was a knight in tin-foil armour holding an exaggerated, uncomfortable pose of absolute horror. And right before her was a man with spikey blond hair and blue eyes. He grinned. “Now, brave Sir Alfred, defeat the Evil Dragon King!” A voice boomed. The blond man pointed at himself. “Yes, you!” The man shrugged. The wizard turned his attention back to the stage. “Um, the power of love will surely best the Evil Dragon King.” The man met her gaze and smirked. Ah, a setup then. Hard not to feel a thrill as he walked towards her. This was a play, but by implication- Aeris’s friends were screaming their support from the audience. “Oh, oh Alfred, you came for me.” Corny line but about in keeping with everything else. ‘Alfred’ halted in front of her; she looked up. “Sorry princess.” “Why, Sir Alfred, what can you possibly have to apologise for?” This was fun. “Well.” ‘Alfred’ scrubbed at his hair. “Just, now standing here, seeing the two of you, I think I prefer the Evil Dragon King.” ‘Alfred’ leant past her to kiss the cheek of the costume. Aeris fault to hide her giggles even while she swooned. And here again a point where memory felt it must be fallible. How was it possible or plausible that the actors had prepared for this situation? No sooner had ‘Alfred’ completed his smooch when the Evil Dragon King was hauled up out of sight – and for a woman in a pink tutu to descend in his place. “Why, thank you Sir Alfred! You have broken the dragon’s curse. Come, now we can live happily ever after.” The former-Evil Dragon King twirled her way off stage, followed by both ‘Alfred’, the wizard and the knight. “Alas, the Princess was forgotten about by her knight.” Aeris grinned, folded her arms and assumed a stern expression. An angry foot stomp gained her a new wave of applause, and both the players and ‘Alfred’ returned to take a bow. Aeris caught ‘Alfred’’s arm after. “Thank you for that. I had a lot of fun.” ‘Alfred’ grinned and there was some unimportant small-talk for a while. She learned his name was Cloud, and waved her friends off to their own devices when they grew bored. She and Cloud carried on talking, each trying to make the other laugh more. They meandered through the Gold Saucer, wasting a few gil on the chocobo races, on the arcades. The evening passed in a blur and one thing inevitably lead to another. Making out became more passionate. Passionate kissing demanded more privacy. And once in private, clothes were an impediment soon dispensed with. And perhaps there could have been more there. If the night in question had not been Aeris’s last at the Gold Saucer. If transport was not arranged for so early the next morning. If she had not snuck out and not disturbed Cloud when her PHS rang and her friends hurried her to catch up or be left behind. What would it have been like to be left behind? Another branch not taken in the ever diverging reality of her life. That was enough. Aeris relaxed and lowered the sphere from beside her head. Captured within the crystalline structure was her memory of that night as of her last recall. A shame the capture could not have been made before. When the memory would have been truer. But did that matter? To relive was a delight and now she need not fear a failing memory as time passed. There were other memories to retrieve but- For now, something else. Aeris carefully laid the materia sphere in its container and headed for the garden.
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ridiasfangirlings · 6 years
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Title: Moon in Water 6/6
Fandom: K Project
External: AO3
Ratings/Warnings: T
Summary: A run in with trouble on a dark night lands Yata on an island that shouldn’t exist, with the first human he’s ever seen in his life. Except that everything about Fushimi is different from what Yata’s heard humans should be…
Notes: I started this for Sarumi Fest last year, so fittingly I’m finishing it for the fest this year. Please enjoy the final chapter ^^
“I’ll come back for you, all right?”
“You can’t, Misaki.”
The moon cast long shadows on the ground and Yata glanced back at the figure sitting on the rock. The small glowing blue gem on the bracelet gleamed softly, a light on the dark. Yata had held onto that wrist all the way through the forest, past danger that he knew he couldn't even fully grasp the shape of. They had emerged from the dark of the trees largely unscathed in the end, aside from a few small scratches and cuts. There was nothing but open sky between them now, and even so Yata felt as if he wanted to reach out again, keep hold of that thin wrist and make sure this person stayed in the light.
“Why not?”
“You saw him. That guy.” Hunched shoulders, fingers playing with the shining beads. “Everything that’s mine gets…”
“Gets…?” Yata prompted but his companion looked away instead, biting his lip.
“It’ll all be destroyed. He’ll be here soon, and he won’t—you can’t stay with me.”
“But…aren’t we friends?” Yata reached out a hand, fingers spread wide. “I want to play with you more!”
“Friends…” A shake of the head. “I don’t have any friends.”
“Yeah you do! I’m your friend!” Perfectly convinced, and wide eyes stared back at him. “If there’s a bad person after you I’ll rescue you! I’ll take you super far away and he won’t ever find you!”
“Take me far away…” There was something wistful in that tone that made Yata almost want to cry even though he wasn’t certain of the reason why. “You can’t. He…has something that’s mine. I can’t leave without it.”
“Then we’ll get it back! I know lots of good tricks for finding things. And if it’s you and me we can do anything!” Yata believed it completely. Hadn’t they made it the whole way through the forest together, made it safely away from the uwabami and hidden from the scary man with the shadowy monsters? If it was the two of them, Yata was certain they could take on anyone, no matter if they were small and weak. Together, they were strong.
“You can’t. Even if it’s us…it’ll all break.”
What will break? Yata was confused but didn’t ask, because he wasn’t sure he’d get an answer.
“But if I leave we might not see each other again.” The idea made Yata scrunch up his nose. Just when he’d found a friend, and now…
There was a sound from above them, wind whistling by, and they both looked up. A figure could be seen silhouetted against the moon, wide feathery wings and familiar braided hair.
“Mama!” Yata waved his hands and wondered if she could see him even in the dark.
“Here.” The bracelet was held out to him and Yata looked at it curiously. “She can see you when the stone shines.”
“But isn’t it yours?”
“Yeah, but…” Kicking at the dirt. “It’s not important. He’ll break it eventually anyway. So you keep it.”
“All right…” Yata held out his hands and the bracelet was dropped into his open palms. A bright smile lit up his face as he held it close, the gem glowing blue against his skin. “It’s pretty! The color’s like your eyes.”
The blue eyes widened again and Yata reached for his hand.
There was another gust of wind and Yata looked up, waving the bracelet in the air. He could see his mother’s shadow stop and then turn, arrowing straight towards him.
“Misaki.” Yata heard the voice behind him, soft and sure. “My name — my true name is —”
“Look, she saw us! I’m sure if Mama’s here we can—” Yata whirled back to look at his friend, hand still outstretched, but where his companion had been there was only a small pile of leaves. “H-hey, where…”
Before he could say anything more his mother’s wings folded around him and he was pulled into her arms, her head against his and a grateful sigh in his ear.
“Misaki….!”
“Misaki. Misaki.”
The soft but insistent voice dragged him from his dream and Yata’s eyes blinked sluggishly as he tried to remember where he was.
“I’m up, I’m up…” He shook his head, trying to erase the remnants of the dream that he could still feel lingering on the edge of his mind. Unconsciously one hand touched his bare wrist and a different memory came rushing back, blue stones falling into the grass and a shadow in the water. Yata’s face twisted in a grimace as he sat up, trying to stretch out his sore cramped wings. He’d fallen asleep in an awkward position against some of the taiko drums Totsuka had set up for the ceremony, wings draped carelessly around him, and there were flower petals in his hair.
Anna was staring back at him with an odd expression, her hair braided and plaited atop her head and decorated with flowers and kanzashi. The tips of her white wings had been dipped into some kind of gold dye that Kusanagi had received as a special offering and the red sigils that had been drawn on her forehead and cheeks stood out starkly against her white skin.
“A-Anna…” Yata sat up straight, swallowing a curse. “S-sorry, I fell asleep…” He laughed sheepishly, looking down at his hands.
It had been three days since he’d last gone to see Fushimi. He’d returned to Home Nest after their last talk angry and confused, going straight to his own nest and sleeping without a word to anyone. He’d spent the last few days throwing himself into the preparations for Anna’s ceremony, helping Totsuka and Kusanagi prepare everything while avoiding Anna herself, who seemed to be staring at him in concern every time he caught her eye.
The ceremony had finally begun that evening, just as soon as the sun had set, and per tradition was to last until sunrise when Mikoto would officially hand over control of Homra to Anna. Though the moon was still visible above the sky had lightened considerably since Yata last remembered looking, and it was clear that he had been asleep for several hours when he should have been celebrating with everyone else.
“Misaki has been tired lately.” Anna sounded concerned and Yata gave her a shaky smile.
“Well, we’ve been real busy and…and it’s not just me, Kusanagi-san’s been working hard, and Totsuka-san too, so I can’t slack off!” He laughed and it sounded painful and fake to his own ears. There was a small jangling of jewelry as Anna reached out and placed a hand on Yata’s wrist.
“Misaki is troubled.” Her eyes were half closed and her hands pressed together as if rolling dough, fingers entwined, white skin along white skin, and then a small hint of red as a tiny marble formed in her palm. She held it up to her eyes and Yata had to stop himself from stepping back as she turned her gaze on him. “Something painful happened?”
“Anna, you don’t have to—” Yata started to protest and Anna lowered the marble, staring at him with an open expression.
“Tatara says if something hurts you should share it with others,” she said quietly. “So it doesn’t grow big inside your chest, like a walnut that becomes a tree.”
“Ah…” Yata’s expression shifted, eyes lowered and his mouth a thin wavering line. “It’s—I thought somebody was my friend but they were lying to me all this time. Or…I guess he was? I mean — we haven’t known each other long but it felt like — like I should know him? Or like we’d been friends forever even though we only talked a little. He always acted like a jerk but then sometimes he’d smile at me, you know? And I felt proud because I made that guy smile. So I don’t get it. He couldn’t have meant that he was — but then what the hell was he talking about? If he’s in trouble I could help... but that guy isn’t the type who asks for help when he needs it.” Yata clenched a fist. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Misaki knows.” Anna’s hands closed over Yata’s fist, gentle fingers on taut skin. “That person has something important of Misaki’s, right?”
“Wait, you mean…my name? You could tell that?”
“Not that.” Anna shook her head. “He gave it back. Misaki’s been missing part of it since the first quarter moon. But now it's whole again.”
“He…gave it back to me?” That didn’t make any sense either. From what Fushimi had said, and from what he and that asshole Munakata had shown, just holding Yata’s name would have been enough to control Yata any way he wanted. If Fushimi had really been planning something — trying to eat him, or toying with him — it didn’t make sense that he would give the name back after everything.
“I can see it.” Anna held up the marble to her eye again. “Misaki’s name is whole. But the red string hasn’t faded. It connects here.” She touched a finger to his chest, above his heart. “A very old, almost forgotten feeling. But it remains there, strongly knotted. Tied to that person.”
“To…Anna, so—so you remember I told you about Fushimi, right?” Yata asked quietly.
“I saw a dream.” Anna moved the marble from palm to palm and it grew bigger with each passage of her hand until she needed both to hold it. “There was a name written on the moon. Someone was chasing after it and it kept shedding pieces and growing smaller, like a vegetable being cut. Finally that person’s hand managed to reach it, but it was too late. A monster rose up from the ground and swallowed the name and the moon. Without the moon there was only a long, long sleep. A red moon ate the sun, and the sun ate the moon, over and over. A sleeping child grew claws and teeth and tore at the earth, but he could not grasp what had been taken from him. That person cannot take back his own missing piece. It must be given.”
“I don’t get…” Yata’s voice trailed off as the memory of a familiar sullen voice seemed to echo in his ears, as clear as if Fushimi was right beside him. “There are things that are part of you, and that the world sinks into you. Your name, the wind blowing your face, the moon shining its light on you. If you lose it, you can’t be yourself anymore.”
Of course. Of course. Yata felt like an idiot for not having figured it out on his own, from the moment he’d seen the reflection of the nue in the water of the pool.
Someone had taken Fushimi’s name.
“Anna!” Yata’s head shot up, face determined. “How do I get it back for him?” Anna closed her eyes, shaking her head.
“The words were written on the moon,” she said quietly. “That was all I saw. I hoped…Misaki might understand the rest.”
The moon…? Yata’s mind flashed back to the dark pool again, to the white moon that had been reflected where a red one should be. Then…is that where his name is? In the water?
There was no way to be sure, but…it was the only idea he had, the only thing he could think of. If he could get Fushimi’s name back that would break whatever spell or curse had turned him into the nue, and then Yata could kick his ass for being such a stupid idiot who had to push Yata away instead of just fucking asking for help like a normal person.
“But how am I supposed to get the reflection of the moon out of the water?” Yata murmured to himself and Anna reached out and took his hands in hers, tugging him lightly so that found himself lowering down onto one knee.
“Misaki will find a way.” She leaned up, wings flapping a little to help keep her balance as she pressed her forehead against Yata’s. “Something precious was left behind. That person has been clinging to it all this time.”
“Is it…okay?” Yata asked quietly. “I mean, it’s your induction ceremony, and…”
“If Misaki is needed there, you should go.” Anna smiled gently. “So you won’t have any regrets.”
“Right.” Yata gave her a shaky smile. “Thanks, Anna. I’ll be back soon, all right? And I’ll have that guy with me.”
Anna only nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face, and Yata finally turned away from her, spreading his wings. In moments he was in the sky again, flying towards the island whose location he already seemed to know by instinct, as if some beacon there was guiding him back like a lighthouse in a storm.
The sun hadn’t risen yet by the time Yata reached Fushimi’s island and as he circled the pool Yata could still see that white moon gleaming in the water, bright and full despite the way the actual sky above was starting to lighten.
How do I get it out? Yata dipped a hand into the water just above the reflection of the moon. It rippled under his touch and there was a strange tingling feeling that spread throughout his body, as if he’d stepped inside a ringing bell, but once Yata raised his hand the water steadied and the reflection still remained, full and whole as always.
Yata glided low and then landed right at the edge of the water, staring down. The pool was deep and dark and it was impossible to tell how far down it went. Yata felt a surge of frustration — how the hell was he supposed to remove a reflection from the water? And even if he did, who knew if that really was where Fushimi’s name was hidden, or how Yata gave that back. Fushimi had said it himself, hadn’t he, and Munakata after that: name magic wasn’t tengu magic. Even if Yata had been someone with powers like Totsuka or Anna, trapping a name was beyond him.
“Misaki. Didn’t I tell you never to come back?” A cold voice made him turn. Fushimi stood directly beneath the torii gate, arms crossed, an almost weary look on his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me, you asshole?” Yata snapped back. “It’s your name, right? That’s why you transformed. Something stole your name.”
A momentary look of surprise crossed Fushimi’s face before it twisted into a frown as he gave a harsh bark of laughter.
“So you figured it out? It’s not hard if you know how magic works, Misaki.” Fushimi shrugged, taking a step forward. “This doesn't change anything. A sacrifice is still a sacrifice. Now that you’ve found out the game you’re no use to me anymore.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” Yata moved forward to meet him, refusing to lower his gaze. “I came to save you, Fushimi.”
“Save me?” Fushimi scoffed, shaking his head. “That was broken a long time ago, Misaki. Just like everything else. And you don’t even remember, do you? Even though to me it was the only good thing in the world. To you, it wasn’t even important enough for a memory.” He opened his hands then, and Yata saw the small familiar blue beads resting in Fushimi’s palm for just a moment before Fushimi tossed them away. “The sun is rising, Misaki. If you don’t want to be eaten, go away.”
“I’m not leaving,” Yata said firmly, bending down to pick up the fallen beads. They were still shining faintly and Yata's fingers clenched around them. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, and I don’t care. You’re my friend and I’m going to save you whether you want me to or not.”
“But…aren’t we friends?” A soft whisper on the wind, something rising from the depths of his memory for just a moment and then it flew away again, drawn out by invisible fingers, and Yata couldn't recall when he'd said those words, who he'd said them to.
“You’re going to die.” Fushimi’s voice was fierce and cold but there was an undercurrent of something like desperation that was impossible for even Yata to miss. “I won’t leave so much as your bones behind, Misaki. I’m going to destroy it all on my own. Bad luck, everywhere. So get the hell out of here and forget about me. It’s what you do best, after all.’
“Why the hell are you giving up so easily?” Yata reached forward then, roughly grabbing onto Fushimi’s thin wrist and holding tight.
“Let go of me, Misaki!”
“I’m not giving up on us, Fushimi,” Yata stated. “Let me help you, okay? I know you’re a stupid stubborn jerk, but you’re my stupid stubborn jerk and I want to save you. You know it’s time for our new King’s induction ceremony, right? And I left it. I left my flock during the most important time because right now there’s nothing that’s more important to me than fixing whatever the fuck is wrong with you!”
“You’re too late.” Fushimi’s voice was like a funeral bell, thick and heavy as he tore his wrist from Yata’s grip with an almost supernatural strength. Mist suddenly seemed to be gathering close around them and there was something pale and translucent about Fushimi’s skin. “Too late, Misaki…you’re far far too late…”
And then Fushimi was swallowed up the clouds as the sun burst over the horizon and bathed the entire island in bright yellow light.
“Fushimi!” Yata choked on mist that suddenly clogged his lungs as if it were thick smoke, his entire line of vision obscured. Yata swore and spread his wings, flapping hard in order to create a wind strong enough to blow the mist away, at least enough that he could see where he was standing. In the half light of the morning he could see that the island had already begun to change, just as he’d noticed when he’d come here the first time in the sunlight: as the mist poured out over the terrain everything suddenly grew more cracked and worn, as if years of disuse were catching up to it all at once. There was no sign of Fushimi whatsoever but the clouds still hanging low around him told Yata that Fushimi was probably nearby — the nue Fushimi, at least, and Yata took a careful step back towards where he knew the pool had to be.
He needed to figure out a way to get Fushimi’s name out of the moon and the moon out of the water, he knew that much, but Yata had no idea how to do it. If he just reached his hand in now, in the light, would it come to him? Or…
The prospect of diving in made him bite his lip, recalling how he’d almost drowned the first time. Water was an opposing element for tengu, and swimming to the depths in search of something that might not even be reachable was a poor plan even by Yata’s admittedly thin standards.
A sound cut through the mist, the high lonely bird’s cry that Yata recognized immediately, and he barely took to the sky in time to avoid Fushimi’s claws as the nue jumped at him. Fushimi’s eyes were glowing red, staring at him as though he was nothing more than a piece of meat, than prey. They weren’t Fushimi’s eyes at all, and the thought had barely crossed Yata’s mind before Fushimi attacked again, the thick striped legs and sharp tiger claws scoring deep gashes in the ground where they just missed ripping through Yata’s limbs. He cursed to himself as he pulled the wooden spoon from where it was still strapped against his back, lengthening it into a staff just in time to parry another attack.
“Fushimi!” Yata tried desperately, staff still held up in a defensive position. “Hey! It’s me, you idiot! I’m trying to help you!”
There was the bird call again, echoing and haunted, and all of a sudden the mist started swirling around Yata fast and thick, all but pinning him inside. Yata swung his staff once to disperse it and then jumped into the air, settling on the worn torii gate out of reach of the nue.
The nue, which was now between him and the suddenly clouded pool.
Now what? Yata thought, fingers clenching on the staff. He needed to get to the pool but he couldn’t do anything while defending himself from Fushimi, who was as fast and agile as he’d been the first time Yata had run into him, before Yata had known who the nue really was. He could try and lose Fushimi in the woods but Yata knew he couldn’t waste too much time on running around — he didn’t know how long it would take to retrieve Fushimi’s name and the possibility of being waylaid by who knew what else was hiding on this stupid island was high.
Suddenly the gate lurched and Yata gave an undignified squawk, clinging to the wood as he glanced downwards. Fushimi was slamming his body against the bottom of the gate, as if trying to bring it down. Another powerful slam was enough to make Yata lose his footing entirely and he opened his wings awkwardly as he half-flew, half-fell to the ground just along the slope of the hill. Fushimi was already approaching him, slow and predatory like a cat cornering a bird, and Yata couldn’t help but glance helplessly beyond him at where he knew the pool was.
He was being herded away and he didn’t know how to stop it. At this rate he would have to give up, and then Fushimi…
No. Yata’s hands tightened on his staff, teeth clenching. He didn’t even know why he was so determined — it wasn’t like they’d known each other long, and Fushimi had been in turns frustrating and annoying, mood swings and mocking words, and even in those few moments they’d connected Yata had always felt as if there was something…missing, in their interactions, as if he was constantly stretching for something that was always dangling just out of reach. But even so he wanted to keep holding his hand out, wanted to grasp that invisible thing between him and Fushimi, wanted to talk to him more, to see him smile again, to make him laugh. If he retreated now, they might never see each other again.
A thick dark cloud suddenly descended on him from above, obscuring his vision, and it was only instinct that allowed Yata to sweep his staff up in time to block Fushimi’s next attack. As it was he still found himself sent reeling, again rolling down the hill and banging his knees against hard cracked stone. He had barely managed to get to his feet when Fushimi was there once more in front of him, eyes burning, not a single sign of recognition in the monstrous face, and even as Yata reached for his fallen staff he wasn’t sure if he could parry the next blow in time.
“Misaki!” He heard the familiar voice in his bones, almost, and the moment Yata looked up a sudden burst of flame lit up the dark mist surrounding him. Fushimi hissed and dived back, muscles taut and still clearly on the hunt, eyes never leaving Yata’s as Yata stumbled to his feet and followed the source of the flames with wide eyes. Through the thinning mist Yata was able to make out a handful of figures descending towards him.
“Mikoto-san!” He recognized the flame red wings instantly — Mikoto and Kusanagi, and half a dozen other Homra members flying towards him, landing between him and the now wary Fushimi.
But…how? Yata’s throat felt dry even as his heart leapt with relief. Fushimi said you couldn’t find the island without knowing where it is…
“Misaki!” A rustle of beads and feathers and Anna landed beside him, a black fur stole wrapped around her shoulders.
“Anna…it’s not safe here, what are you—”
“We came to help Misaki.” Anna’s face was tired but determined, and suddenly Yata remembered how she’d pressed her forehead against his before he left.
Anna was a Diviner, and Yata was part of her flock. Of course she would know where Yata was, even if that location was hidden from the eyes of every other person in the world.
“I don’t know what to do,” Yata admitted breathlessly, eyes not leaving the figures of Mikoto and the others as they kept Fushimi at bay. “I know his name has to be in the water, but…”
“It can only be retrieved by hands that are truly willing to reach for it.” The voice came from Anna’s coat and Yata nearly jumped at the sound. Now that she was beside him he could see that it wasn’t a fur stole at all around her shoulders but a thin wiry fox, nine tails waving even in this form.
“Reisi knows this magic,” Anna said by way of explanation, and Yata furrowed his brow.
“Willing to…what the hell does that mean?”
“If it is trapped in the water, you must dive in.” Munakata’s voice was calm, despite the chaos around them. “Unless you are too afraid, Yatagarasu-kun?”
“I’m not—” Yata shook his head, steeling himself. “Anna…make sure they don’t hurt Fushimi, okay?”
“Mmm.” Anna nodded, touching his hand. “I gave an order, not to burn anything that doesn’t need to be burnt. So Misaki can go save his friend.”
“I-I’m off, then.” Yata spread his wings and leaped into the air without another word, arrowing straight for the pool. His wings flattened as he rose higher into the air, clearing the line of smoke and mist, and the pool below was murky and clouded. But even so Yata could just make it out – a wavering image of a pure white moon, deep within the water.
Fushimi… Yata swallowed, glanced back once, and then down again at the pool. You better be grateful for this, you asshole!
Yata drew his wings up close to his body and dived straight down into the water.
“What are you doing, little monkey?”
The words burned in his ears and his body tensed as he looked up from where he’d been drawing a sign in the dirt with a stick. A man stared down, teeth bared in a smile, white and sharp, and it made his entire body shake all the way from his ears to…
(Not mine, Yata realized, because it wasn’t. He was looking at things from Fushimi’s eyes, listening to Fushimi’s thoughts echoing in his own ears — his body was nothing but a thought, limbs he couldn’t feel, wings that were like a sketch of a thing that once existed along the back that wasn't there, he couldn’t ruffle his feathers or speak or breathe—)
(But he didn’t need to, because he wasn’t drowning. There was a moon shining just out of reach, and all that Yata was had been enveloped by the echoes of Fushimi’s memory.)
“I wasn’t doing anything.” The voice was dull and sullen, exactly Fushimi’s usual tone, but there was a noticeable tension along his shoulders, Yata could feel it, and his — Fushimi’s — feet shifted slightly, the smallest hint of nervousness. The man in front of him — Niki, the memory whispered, like the smooth hiss of a snake — smiled wider.
“Do want to play a game?” Niki clenched a fist and Fushimi gave the smallest yelp, involuntary, and Yata could feel the rush of irritation swelling in on him from all sides at the slip. There was a burst of pain and Fushimi’s hands and arms seemed to move of their own accord, wiping out the sign easily.
“Go away!” It was like the bark of a desperate kit abandoned in the snow, and Niki laughed.
“All right, all right, we’ll play!” Niki opened his hands, and small floating fires appeared there. “Let’s see if you can outrun these. All right, (—)?”
(It was like a sudden buzzing in Yata’s ears, something that had wiped out the name that had been spoken from even Fushimi's own mind, from his own memories.)
Fushimi’s whole body jerked up at the sound of it, eyes wide, breath catching not of his own accord, and Niki laughed.
“I’ll give you a head start. What do you say?”
Something like terror welled up in his throat, terror and hatred and a bone deep chill like Yata had never felt before, and Fushimi ran.
The fires followed, and burned marks deep in his skin that didn’t disappear for weeks. Niki laughed.
Then Yata was himself again for just a moment, water washing over him and he could almost see his own hands outstretched in front of him before Fushimi's memories swallowed him up again.
He was ill, shivering on top of the cold offering stone. Someone had left plants there — herbs, Yata thought for a second, before Fushimi’s memories corrected him with poison ivy leaves and hemlock — and his head was spinning.
Figures moved around him, in and out of the shadows. Yata and Fushimi could both hear them, dimly, though only Yata could really make out the words.
“That’s his child.”
“Don’t touch him.”
“We should have known better than to let them stay here. That kind brings only bad luck and tragedy.”
“Where is he? He’ll come back as long as the child’s here. They aren't our tribe, we can't allow them to stay.”
“We should have cast him out long ago, the moment we learned what he really was.”
“You do that. I’ll watch. That one is too strong.”
“Has always been too strong. Even the child…”
“The child has your blood, doesn’t it?” This last directed to a woman, with cold eyes and sharp claws, and she turned away without even looking at the figure on the stone.
“Not mine.” Her voice was colder than the rock Fushimi lay on. “Even I couldn't break that illusion, that's all. Look at his color, his blood is all one with that man. No part of him is mine.”
Midnight, and Fushimi managed enough strength to crawl to the woods and vomit. Something tugged on him, pulling him back like a dog on a leash, and Niki was there reflected in the moon, watching.
“You’re no fun today, monkey. Hey, (—) aren’t you angry? They left you to die. Only Daddy came back for you. Daddy will always come back for you.”
Niki leaned in, whispered in Fushimi’s ear.
“Go warm things up for them.”
Something painful again, a sharp pull like a noose around his neck, and Fushimi stood.
A rush of images ran together, fingers dancing with flames, the sound of screams and a shrine bathed red and orange by fire, until finally there was only Fushimi standing there, alone.
Alone except for Niki, who stood beside him and smiled.
“Don’t worry. Papa will be with you forever. Isn’t that nice?”
Yata felt himself flailing a little under the water, lost for a moment, body tumbling helplessly down and he had the briefest glimpse of something white and shining before he was dragged back under into Fushimi’s memories.
Everything broke. Any toy he found, left for him in pieces. Any friend he made, chased away with fire and illusions and monsters set loose.
Fushimi wandered alone along the forest path, feet bare. Niki wasn’t around, but that didn’t mean anything. He would be there eventually. He always was, and there was no escaping that.
Something small and glowing caught his attention and Fushimi knelt down. There along the side of the path was a tiny glowing blue stone set in a bracelet. It had likely been left behind after the last one of Niki’s fires — another tribe had taken shelter in the old shrine again, and had stayed there for over a month before Niki chased them off laughing. A couple of them had smiled at him when they’d spotted him hiding in the trees, not realizing that just by Fushimi seeing them their fate had been sealed.
He reached down and picked up the bracelet, staring at the glowing stone. It felt cool against his skin, and the light was a little soothing.
Niki would break it, of course, so there was no point in getting attached to even something as small as this.
Even so, Fushimi slipped it into his pocket anyway.
(But that’s — Yata recognized the bracelet, hands he couldn’t see but still knew were there moving on instinct to touch his invisible wrist, the place where that bracelet had been for years until he’d given it to Fushimi. But the bracelet itself had been given to him by —)
(By —)
(By—)
Yata felt water entering his lungs and his body was heavy like a stone, pulled down further and further, and he could see the bottom of the pool at last — a great dark plain dotted with destroyed statutes and lit by a single pale moon. His feet hit the lakebed and dust billowed up around him, and made shapes like letters that floated away from Yata’s outstretched hands.
“I’m — ! I’m six years old.” A warm laugh, a warm smile. “Do you live in a bush?”
(The memory was dim and faded over, stretched thin like animal hide over a rock, and Yata felt it bubbling between his own  fingertips, just out of reach.)
“But…isn’t that lonely?”
[It’s not.] The words echoed, Fushimi’s thoughts filling the entire space of the world. [I’m not lonely. I’m fine on my own. I’ve always been fine on my own.]
“The most amazing guy I’ve ever met.”
[Not that amazing.] Heavy thoughts, a millstone dragging him down.  [I’m not. I can’t even hold onto —]
“I can’t leave you by yourself!”
[Why not?] True confusion, so strong Yata could feel it bubbling in his veins like blood. [Everyone else has. Everyone always does.]
“But…aren’t we friends?”
[I don’t have any friends.] Desperate now, as if Fushimi himself didn’t even believe those words.
“If there’s a bad person after you I’ll rescue you! I’ll take you super far away and he won’t ever find you!”
[You can’t.] But there was a sensation building up in Fushimi’s throat, hope and loneliness and longing, the desire to believe those words were true. Words no one had ever said before, not to him. No one ever came back for him except that guy. But bright eyes were shining down on him, a smile and a promise, and Fushimi took the bracelet from his wrist and held it out.
A flutter of wings, and Fushimi looked down at the small red feather left lying behind.
“W-wait, that’s—” Yata spoke without meaning to and water immediately filled his mouth, suffocating and cold and the world around him had gone bright bright white, the pale moon swallowing up everything around him.
“What did you find, little monkey?” Niki, smiling down at him, and Fushimi remained perfectly still.
“Nothing.”
“You were gone so long, and Papa couldn’t find you. The sarugami all killed each other before you could play with them.”
“I wasn’t doing anything. You know I wasn’t, or you would have made me come and play, right?” Almost a challenge, and instead of being angry Niki laughed.
“That’s right, (—).” He raised a hand and Fushimi’s body jerked as if held by an invisible leash. “Hey, monkey, where’s that bracelet you’ve been hiding?”
“I lost it in the water.” He kept his voice flat, and Niki laughed.
“Is that so? My poor monkey lost his prized possession in the water. Want to go look for it? I found an onamazu the other day and let it loose in the pool, you two can play!”
Niki laughed and Fushimi kept his head down, following obediently as Niki began to ascend the temple steps.
Behind them, hidden under an offering stone, was a small blood-stained handkerchief and a single red feather.
It wasn’t like drowning. Yata was still falling now, but falling up — not through water but through something else, dust coalescing around him still in characters that flew by too fast for him to hold onto, and there was a word he couldn’t read carved into the surface of the moon.
[I have to leave.] Fushimi was digging beneath a rock, desperate. His hands were red, and in the distance Yata could hear an odd sound that reminded him of the time he’d spotted a mountain beast eating a goat while searching a mountaintop. There was the vague feeling lingering in Fushimi’s memories that was almost like guilt and almost like relief. [The nue will eat me next if I don’t get out of here.]
Niki had thought he could control it. Another one of his tricks, dragging something onto the island that didn’t belong there. But it had slipped out of his grasp this time — the wrong name, he could almost laugh — and there was nothing left of that man now except memories that Fushimi was all too ready to forget.
[There.] He moved the stone aside and it was still where he had left it, his treasure — the handkerchief and the feather, both old and dirtied but still there.
[I’ll find him.]
[He said he would come back.]
[Together, we can—]
He was running up the hill as fast as he could go, clutching his treasures to his chest. If he used the feather and the name, and called — surely that person would answer. That person who had held out a hand to him, who had smiled at him, who had burned brighter than anyone Fushimi had ever seen. He only needed to call, and finally he’d be able to leave.
The moon above was growing larger the higher he walked up the hill, and the torii gate seemed small beneath it. He didn’t notice, white hands on red cloth.
[I don’t need anyone else. As long as it’s us two together—]
The moon began to laugh.
Fushimi stopped, stumbled, cutting his knees on the stones. The handkerchief in his hands writhed, turning pitch black as it slipped from his grasp and moved like a snake along the grass and stones, growing larger and longer, a shadow stretching beneath the moon that was too too large and the feather fell to the ground—
Fushimi cursed, fingers digging into his palm, and the rest of the world was drowned out by familiar laughter.
[A trick — I should have expected, I’m such an idiot, of course he knew—]
Everything seemed to be happening too quickly, so quickly that Yata could barely catch the pieces of memory that were glowing bright around him. Niki’s shadow, hands outstretched and laughing, still laughing — and then the grass beneath Fushimi’s feet began to glow and Fushimi whirled, something large on the horizon behind him backed by storm clouds — the shrine shook and crumbled, stones crashing into each other, statues falling to pieces into the crystal pool that had gone deep red like blood — and there were words written on the moon, words that slipped through Fushimi’s fingers as they were torn away — taken away, from everyone, his own mind gone blank with the name he hated so much and now couldn’t recall and his fingers were changing, skin peeling back to reveal white bone and behind him the nue opened its mouth wide—
And all in a rush, Yata remembered.
“I’m Yata Misaki! I’m six years old.”
Alone in a forest, lost. Blue eyes peering out of the bushes.
“Yeah, you don’t have wings! But I bet I could carry you!”
A small sullen face that looked like it never smiled, like it didn’t know what smiling was.
“Don’t worry about it. Just…don’t give your name to anyone here but me, all right?”
And hadn’t he been warned, then? The only protection someone like Fushimi could offer: “Don’t give your name to anyone here but me.”
“I can’t leave you by yourself!”
He hadn’t wanted to. It was rushing in on him from all sides now, memory after memory, his own feelings and Fushimi’s crashing together so hard it was almost painful, and in front of his eyes there was nothing but a sea of stars. He’d always planned to come back eventually. To see this person again. His first real friend.
“If there’s a bad person after you I’ll rescue you! I’ll take you super far away and he won’t ever find you!”
A promise. He could feel Fushimi’s emotions again, a surge of longing and hope and something so like pain it made his eyes water. All this time, Fushimi had been waiting on him to come back, and Yata had forgotten it all.
He could see the words again, the characters of Fushimi’s name slipping between pale fingers and suddenly Yata’s own hands were reaching too, grasping helplessly for the memories that had been torn away from even his own mind, swallowed up by the moon and the water — the final curse that had taken Fushimi’s name and erased it from everywhere, everyone, that had taken away those precious memories so swiftly and silently that Yata hadn’t even realized what had been stolen from him until now.
Yata’s head broke open the water’s surface and he gasped, dragging himself onto the shore, and looked around.
He was still on the island and yet he wasn’t. The entire sky was pitch black, not even a single star to be seen. The pool was glowing softly, the reflection of a red moon and a bright sun side by side in the water. The grass beneath Yata’s feet was cool and damp and sludge gray. The forest in the distance was a mass of black ghosts, branches outstretched like claws, and the torii gate loomed large above his head, stretching up into infinity beyond the atmosphere.
On the grass beneath the gate was a small boy of about six, with sad blue eyes and a thin frame, holding a temari ball that glowed softly with moonlight, embroidered with characters that Yata couldn’t make out. The threads seemed to have been smudged somehow, and there were sharp needles poking out from various places, piercing the child’s hands so that blood dripped down. Despite that the child didn’t cry, only stared at Yata with those too-familiar eyes.
“Fushimi.” Yata took a step towards him, and the child Fushimi stepped back. He looked just the way he had in Yata's memories, untouched by the curse of his father and the nue, not a mere human any longer. “Hey, it’s all right. I’m here now, okay? Sorry it took so long.”
“Go away.” The words were hollow, echoing in the unnatural stillness of their surroundings.
“I can’t.” Yata shook his head. “You’re the kinda guy I can’t leave alone, you know? We’re gonna go back together.”
“Can’t go back.” Fushimi’s eyes were dark, and Yata could see the reflections of the stars whirling inside them. “Can’t go forward. I have to stay here.”
“That’s wrong,” Yata said, forceful. “You can’t stay in one spot forever. It’s time to move forward.”
“I’m lost,” Fushimi said, and a cold wind blew past. The torii gate seemed to glow in the darkness and beyond it there was no longer forest but something else — a great dark silhouette that swallowed up everything in its wake, and a pair of glowing red eyes. The shadow of the nue growled softly, and Fushimi took a step back towards it.
“That’s not the way.” Yata reached for his arm and Fushimi stepped back, further under the gate, keeping his distance. The temari moon in his hands glowed softly, and the threads shifted and writhed like snakes.
“It’s the only way out.” Empty words, empty eyes, empty sky above. Fushimi’s body seemed somehow weary suddenly, like a child of famine staring at the desert around him.
“It’s not. Let me show you.” Yata took a careful step forward, and Fushimi took another step back.
“He’ll eat you. That guy…everything gets destroyed. Everything that’s mine, he takes and twists until it breaks. Because he named me, so my name belongs to him. I belong to him, forever.”
“He’s not here anymore,” Yata said. “I saw your memories. That guy’s dead. This is just a trick he left behind.”
“Even if he’s not here, I’m still his. There’s no way out for me.” Hands tightening over the moon, and more blood dripped down.
“Fushimi…” And the name sounded wrong somehow now, as if it wasn’t the one Yata should be calling. He found his eyes drawn to the moon again, to the twisted threads moving steadily beneath its surface, Fushimi’s blood staining it red. The stains faded after only a moment, swallowed up by the threads, and the moon pulsed with an eerie light.
“He…has something that’s mine. I can’t leave without it.”
Something was wrong.
It didn’t look right. Fushimi there, small and scared with blood on his hands and the moon with its hundreds upon hundreds of moving threads. The water beside him rippled, and Yata looked into Fushimi’s eyes again. Reflected in them he could just see it — twin moons, shining. Yata found himself reaching into his pocket and wrapping his fingers around the item he found there.
Small blue stones, still glowing with faint light.
“And if it’s you and me we can do anything!”
And then he was small again, a tengu just growing into his wings, six years old and still a bit shorter than the boy standing in front of him. Yata held out his palm, showing Fushimi the stones shining bright, the remains of the treasure he had held on to all this time even though the reason why had been stolen from him.
“If you’re lost it’s best to stay with someone else, right?” Yata grinned. “This time, I’ll show you the way!”
Fushimi’s eyes widened, breath catching, and another gust of wind blew by, so strong that it nearly blew the moon from out of Fushimi’s grip. The beast in the darkness behind him growled again, a distant rumble of thunder, and somewhere far far away was the faintest sound of mocking laughter. Fushimi’s ears twitched, body stiffening, but Yata remained there firm, wings braced against the wind, and hand outstretched.
“Let me take you home, okay?”
The wind rose around them, an angry howl, tearing at both of their clothes, but Yata didn’t move. Despite the gale the stones in his palm didn’t shift so much as an inch.
“Misaki.” The word tore itself from Fushimi’s throat like a cry and suddenly he crossed the space between them, one hand reaching for Yata’s as the other let go of the moon — which turned dark red as it hit the ground, now nothing more than a frayed bloody handkerchief and it didn’t matter because that wasn’t what Yata had been looking for, wasn’t what he’d come here for at all, and Yata wrapped his arms around Fushimi and held him close as the world was swallowed up by a blinding white light.
And then he was standing there in front of the now clear pool which no longer reflected anything but the exact sky above, the sun still bright and the sky cloudless and blue. Yata opened his hands and a sprinkling of stardust fell from his fingers, scattering into the wind. Even so, his hands shone with a soft blue light.
“Sorry I took so long, Saruhiko.”
He took a step forward and then another, half running and half flying as he rushed down the hill where Fushimi was penned in at the very edge of the forest, the rest of Yata’s flock surrounding him. He saw Mikoto look up as he came close, eyes darting first to Yata and then to Anna still standing back at the top of the hill below the torii gate. He gave a nod of his head and suddenly the flock scattered, feathers raining down, and then it was just Yata, face to face with the nue.
Fushimi gave a low growl, that lonely keen of a bird again, and this time it made Yata’s heart ache just a little as he took a step closer, hands spread wide.
“Hey. You were here a long time, huh? You should’ve just said something.”
Clouds were gathering around him, obscuring the landscape and everything else around them, until it was just Yata and Fushimi, face to face. He could sense it in the back of his mind, a soft sound like the ringing of a bell: Anna’s presence, reminding him that she was there. If he called for help she would have Mikoto and the others by his side in an instant, to help fight off the nue if need be.
Yata smiled a little ruefully, another step forward. It was weird, wasn’t it…all this time he’d been worried, that there was nothing to him but what his fists and his strength could do. But here he was, face to face with a monster, and he had no intention of fighting.
“I said I’d be back for you. Saruhiko.” The nue seemed to pause at the sound of the name, the red eyes dimming just a little. Yata took another step forward. “I know it kinda took me a while. You were here all this time, by yourself, waiting…but I’m here. That guy didn’t destroy us. We’re friends, right? The first friend I ever had. You don’t forget people like that.”
He was nearly within arm’s reach of the nue. Fushimi growled again, not the bird call but something low and guttural, like a wounded beast. Even so, Yata kept advancing, arms opened wide and palms flat.
“You’re the kind of guy who never says anything honestly, huh?” Yata smiled. “You could’ve just asked for help, you dummy. You didn’t have to chase me away. Nothing here is strong enough to break us. Even—even if I forgot…I’m back now. So don’t you dare disappear on me this time, you stupid idiot.”
Fushimi was backing up this time, closer and closer to the forest edge, but Yata didn’t stop approaching. He held out a hand, and he could almost see small letters dancing on his palm, tiny flecks of stardust glowing in the haze of the clouds.
“Come on, Saruhiko. Come back to me. We got a lot to talk about.”
The nue’s fur bristled like a frightened animal and suddenly it ran at him, mouth open, eyes burning, claws silver-bright even in the darkness.
Still, Yata stood his ground.
The characters in his palm suddenly began to grow brighter and brighter, so much that Yata had to throw up his other arm to cover his eyes, and he heard a sound like thunder in his ears—
—the sound of something unraveling, shattering, the cry of a bird and then—
—that hint of mocking laughter again, slowly, slowly, fading away.
When Yata opened his eyes again he was on the ground, having fallen to his knees without even realizing it. His palm was empty and the clouds had burned off, leaving him sitting alone in front of the forest that was suddenly growing green and verdant in front of him.
Something shifted in his lap, and Yata looked down.
“Saru…hiko…?”
“I didn’t say you could use my first name, Misaki.” Fushimi seemed unsteady on his legs as he stood, gray fur tinted with starlight as he shook himself off. Familiar blue eyes stared back at him and Yata couldn’t help but grin at the thin fox standing in front of him.
“You gave it to me, didn’t you?” Yata laughed. “If you didn’t want me to use it you shouldn’t have said anything. I mean…it was dangerous, wasn’t it?”
“As if an idiot like you could do anything even with my entire name.” Fushimi shook again and there was a small fall of stars as his body shifted, no longer a fox but the humanoid form Yata was familiar with — but this time there were black-tipped pointed ears on his head, and four tails waving behind him.
“You got more,” Yata said, looking at him. “You only had three tails last time.”
“Of course, moron, just because I was sleeping doesn’t mean I couldn’t age,” Fushimi snorted. “It took you long enough to get back here, Misaki.”
“Yeah, I know.” Yata couldn’t stop the fond smile crossing his face. “Sorry I made you wait, Saruhiko.”
“Tch.” Fushimi clicked his tongue as if annoyed but Yata thought he could see the faintest hint of red on his cheeks.
“Misaki!” Anna’s voice made him turn, waving his hands as he saw her and the rest of the flock flying down towards him. She took hold of his wrist as she landed, looking him over for injuries. Yata noticed that Fushimi seemed to tense a bit as the flock surrounded them and Yata moved a little closer to him.
“It’s all right Anna, I’m okay,” Yata assured her. “It takes more than a guy like this to take me down.”
Fushimi clicked his tongue again, crossing his arms, and Yata gave him a playful nudge in the ribs.
“Oh? So this is your Fushimi-kun.” Yata looked up and scowled as Munakata approached them, also back in his humanoid form with all nine tails displayed proudly behind him. He was looking at Fushimi with a keen-eyed expression that made Yata suddenly want to hold Fushimi even closer, just to make sure this bastard knew who Fushimi belonged to. For his part Fushimi was watching Munakata warily, clearly confused but on his guard. “A nogitsune. It’s been some time since I have met with one of your tribe.”
“Tch.” Fushimi clicked his tongue, tails waving, and he seemed to be moving a step closer to Yata without even quite realizing it. “Having a nogitsune in a fox tribe is bad luck, isn't it?”
“Only to those who believe such things.” Munakata's smile was thoughtful and interested, and Yata scowled at him, hand reaching for Fushimi's.
“H-hey, you haven’t seen the sun in a while, right? I mean, as you.” Yata smiled brightly at Fushimi, who immediately turned his gaze from Munakata back to Yata, ears swiveling with the movement. “Come on, I bet we can get a good view from the top of the hill.”
He tugged on Fushimi’s wrist and even though Fushimi clicked his tongue again he stepped forward anyway, eyes only on Yata, and there was something soft in his expression that made Yata's face feel warm.
The sun shone brightly down on them, and Fushimi’s hand closed tightly over Yata’s.
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britesparc · 3 years
Text
Weekend Top Ten #476
Top Ten Theories About Falcon, the Winter Soldier, and the Future of the MCU
The penultimate episode of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier was amazing. Can we agree on that? I know in general the show isn’t the masterpiece WandaVision was; it doesn’t have the intricate puzzle-box structure, or that show’s desire to mess with form. It’s a show treading the same path as the Captain America movies (fittingly enough); relatively straight street-level bust-ups with a political globe-trotting bent. Bourne in tights, if you will. But even within that margin, it’s still not been tremendous; the pacing’s been a bit off, both in individual episodes and across the series as a whole. But there have been moments of greatness; the fight scenes and choreography has been mostly excellent, for a start. And the performances are great; it’s so nice to see Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan being given the space to cut loose and show what they’ve got as they move out of Chris Evans’ shadow. Wyatt Russell is superb as the tormented John Walker; and Daniel Brühl’s Zemo is already the stuff of meme legends. So, all in all, it’s pretty good, if not top tier; but the latest episode, man oh man.
One of the themes of the show has always been institutional racism (it’s right there from the start, with Sam and Rhodey’s first conversation). Bringing this issue right to the forefront, with Sam’s not-so-cosy chat with former supersoldier Isiah Bradley, the most recent episode offered a side of the MCU we’ve never really seen before. It’s so great a huge mass-market Disney property like this can allow its creators the chance to speak openly about race, to present marketable, profitable characters like Captain America as symptoms of a racist society. Bradley’s line about “they’ll never let a Black man be Captain America, and no self-respecting Black man would want to be,” is right up there with “bury me at sea, like my ancestors who leapt from the ships, because they knew death was better than bondage” in terms of things I never thought I’d hear from a Disney property. Sam’s struggle, and his acceptance of his role, was just terrific. I know it’s West Wing-style wishy-washiness, but the idea that the idea of Captain America – of America – is worth striving for and fighting for, is a glorious one; it’s what makes Hamilton so good, even though we know the reality is stained with blood like John Walker’s shield. All this plus Sam helping Bucky deal with his trauma! What a good episode.
Anyway, a bit like I did with WandaVision, here are ten thoughts about where the series could be heading as we approach the finale – and where the MCU itself might be going from here…
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A Good Man: Dr. Erskine said it when Steve first took the formula; “Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.” Steve, it’s implied, is the best Super Soldier because he’s the best man. When he handed Sam the shield in Endgame, he said, “You’re a good man, Sam.” And Sam is a good man; witness how he tried to reason with Karli, how he helped his sister, how he reached out to Bucky to counsel him. The fact that he’s taking up the shield at all, despite everything Bradley said, is because someone needs to be Captain America, and that having a Black man in the role might just make things better for the next generation, even if it makes things worse for Sam. He’s just a good man, and this is going to become evident when all hell breaks loose and everyone descends on New York for the finale; you just know that he’ll be the one to make the sacrifice play, to reach out a hand to Karli or even John. And the whole world will be watching…
Heroes Without Borders: Captain America was created by the US government to fight a war; after Steve retired, they created their own new Cap in John Walker. It’s a role that’s therefore tied to the USA. But the history of the USA, even just in relation to the Super Soldier program, is downright murky. So I think Wilson’s Cap will make it very clear that he’s his own man. He’s wielding a shield that is (presumably) created in an alternate timeline, and wearing a suit built in Wakanda. He has no ties to the government, and it’ll stay that way – especially if he starts to recruit a new batch of Avengers…
The Death of the Winter Soldier…: Bucky’s arc is complete. He was captured and brainwashed, turned into a freeze-dried assassin for seventy years. After being rescued by Steve, he was healed by Shuri, but he still has decades of trauma and guilt. Teaming up with Sam, and being forced to work alongside Zemo, has mellowed him, allowed him to start forgiving himself. It looks as though, with his smiles and jokes on the boat, that he’s finally found some degree of peace. So it stands to reason that he’s going to die in the last episode. Probably defending Karli from John Walker or Batroc the Leaper or something like that.
…The Life of the White Wolf: alternatively, maybe he doesn’t die! Maybe, like he said, he’s going to bugger off to Wakanda. In that case, I think we’ll next see him as the White Wolf in Ryan Coogler’s Wakanda-set Disney+ series. Perhaps he’ll end up being an official Wakandan agent, helping to keep his adopted homeland safe.
Thunderbolts Are Go: in the comics, Zemo is associated with the team of villains-but-sometimes-not the Thunderbolts. I think that’s coming here, too; but I think it’ll be formed by Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine; after all, she was in Washington picking up Captain Americas (Captains America?). Stands to reason that she has an eye on building her own team of Avengers. Maybe Batroc could join too? And – hey! – didn’t Black Widow have a sister…?
The New Avengers: I said earlier, but I think one of Sam’s first jobs will be to reboot the Avengers. After the double-whammy of Civil War and Endgame, they’re toast; almost all their members are either dead or off the table. Let’s rule out Bucky for now; Sam’s first stop will probably be War Machine. Who’s next? Strange? Spidey? Sharon? I wonder if a simmering, recurring plot point in the next couple of movies/shows will be Sam’s attempts to rebuild the team. “Hey, Bruce; what’s your cousin Jennifer’s number?”
Brokered Power: the identity of the Power Broker is one of those no-one’s-talking-about-it-but-it’s-obviously-a-big-deal mysteries in the show. Nobody seems to care or be interested, but just who is this seemingly all-powerful string-puller in Madripoor? One thought could be that it’s Sharon Carter herself; her total about-face on the issue of heroism could be a façade to mask the decisions she’d made as the de facto crime empress. But that feels a bit too neat to me. Our new friend Valentina, perhaps? Sharon looked like she was siccing Batroc onto Karli at the Broker’s behest; is this just because the Broker wants his Serum (or revenge for Karli taking it), or does the Broker secretly have a more benign plan, and is actually trying to stop further bloodshed? My money’s on it either being someone totally new or relatively unknown, or a forgotten villain from an older MCU movie. Is it too much to hope that it turns out to be Trevor Slattery?
Agent Carter: regardless of what happens with the Power Broker, I think we really will see Sharon Carter return to the forefront of MCU heroics. She could actually fill the Black Widow slot in the Avengers, unless the plan is for Yelena to step into her sister’s big black boots (and assuming that Natasha really is dead, of course). But I think Sam’s heroics as the new Cap – plus him keeping his word – will be enough to convince her that there really was something to the heroism Aunt Peggy talked about for all those years. Maybe if the Avengers are too mainstream, she could lead a kind of “Agents of SWORD” black ops team? Maybe that’s where Bucky will end up too!
Teaming Up: and speaking of teams… does anyone else feel like we’re getting a veritable league of different super-teams in the MCU? We’ve got the Avengers and the Guardians already; once Ms. Marvel and Ironheart have taken their bow, I wouldn’t be surprised if Young Avengers reared their bumfluffed heads (maybe with a now-teenage reincarnated Tommy and Billy from WandaVision). Smart money is on Zemo and the Thunderbolts. There’s SWORD, filling the SHIELD void. They’re making a new movie about the Fantastic Four. Eternals comes out this year. At some point down the road we’ll see the X-Men. That’s a lot of different teams, and my crazy theory is this is all deliberate. At some point these teams are going to collide. Whether that’s just your typical Avengers-style team-up movie, or if this is where the whole franchise is pointing in ten years’ time, I don’t know; but it’ll be fun finding out!
Only One Captain America: so, where is Steve? Is he still around? Is he still alive? My theory is that he went home; it’s safe to assume that the Old Steve who sat on the bench in Endgame had travelled from an alternate timeline, one created by Steve returning to the 1940s to have a happy ever after with Peggy. A world where Cap was around after WWII would be very different; especially a Cap who knew about HYDRA’s plans to infiltrate the government, to say nothing of Thanos’ plan for half of everything. So it’s likely that he hasn’t just spent seventy years chilling on the veranda; I’m guessing he’s been at work. And I think he’s gone back home. Maybe his universe’s Sorcerer Supreme helped him with a bit of universe-skipping; who knows. But I just don’t think he’s around, and contrary to some suspicions, I don’t think we’ll see him in the FAWS finale. Whilst more Chris Evans is always nice, and whilst a few words of encouragement from Cap I to Cap II could be lovely, I don’t think they should detract from Sam’s moment by wheeling in his beloved predecessor. So, sorry, Steve; but I think from here on in there’s only one Captain America.
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chalcanthite · 7 years
Text
fic: half-baked (4/?)
mikoto/izumo; g; part of that ridiculous bakery au that i still haven’t forgotten about; happy 40ish minutes belated bday to the original terrible baby
*
The first thing he bakes in the bakery Mikoto bought him is, fittingly enough, a birthday cake for Mikoto.
It's taken from April to August for them to get the essentials together although there’s still ways to go before Izumo can even consider an official inauguration.
There are walls to be painted and the small seating area still needs to be completed. There’s furniture to be ordered and decor to be organized. He's been flipping through magazines during breakfast and browsing online catalogs on transit. He's also been hoarding recipes but that's been happening since he was a kid. He may never have thought up the idea so concretely but he thinks part if it must have been written all over him in some sort of invisible ink. Trust Mikoto to turn on the ultraviolet lights. It hurts him to own up to it but, sometimes, the boy is in fact on point to an uncanny degree, even if inadvertently so.
The kitchen, for the most part, has miraculously been coming together. He still needs to look for a decent espresso machine and milk frother but the baking essentials are more or less in order. As for seating, they still only have a few mismatched chairs and a coffeetable on the floor that the previous owner left behind.
The small, simple strawberries and cream shortcake he’s bringing to life is an old go-to recipe. It's the same thing he’s made every year for years now on this day.
The first time had earned him a red raised brow and “What the hell?”
To which, Izumo had rolled his eyes and told the sullen brat to “Just try it okay.”
Mikoto has never actually openly acknowledged his fondness for the flavour but he’s devoured strawberry-everything for as long as Izumo has known him and this was no different.
They had tried something different the year they finally got together. (It's statement that in itself sounds like an awful joke to Izumo now, because, in a way, when had they ever not been together? They had always come as a matching set, much to the chagrin of most of Izumo's exes, but that is a whole other story for a whole other day.) That fateful year, Izumo had taken Mikoto out for his birthday in some misguided effort to make it special. It was nothing fancy -- they couldn’t have afforded fancy, not then by a longshot -- but a corner restaurant which was known for its ramen and specialty strawberry desserts.
Mikoto had never been much of a picky eater but, afterwards, when Izumo had asked him how he liked it, he had said, “S'good. Yours is better.”
They haven’t strayed from tradition since.
When he's done, he smirks to himself, lighting five candles on the cake.
"Get it? Because you’re actually five?" Izumo  bringing it out and setting it down on the rickety old table.
Mikoto is behind him and he doesnt wait for Izumo to move or make a move to sit. He's got his arms around Izumo and practically lunges them both forward towards the small flickering flames, blowing out the candles over Izumo’s shoulder.
"You planning on setting my hair on fire?" Izumo nearly screeches, then sighs and composes himself as he finds Mikoto, still holding on to him, genuinely enjoying himself at Izumo's own expense. What else was new in his life anyway. "Anyway, did you make your wish?"
Mikoto huffs a breath, something of a laugh, wry but still warm, as he burrows his nose against the side of Izumo's neck and says, "The hell else would I even want?"
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starchildsteven · 7 years
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Hey Chris. I have a trip to the doctor today for some nasty tests (boooo). Got any HC you think I would enjoy to cheer me up a tad? Thanks dude 😊
El sucko, my friend. Since it’s you how about i feed your Sath obsession huh?
Josh was actually the first person to ask Sam out and she very nicely declined saying he just “wasn’t her type.” It took him a few tries and pushing before she said to him very slowly, “Josh it doesn’t matter what you do because you are not my type” Then he got that she meant gay.This was one of the two big reasons Sam was reluctant to pursue Beth even though she got the feeling Beth  liked her. The other was of course Hannah. Sam knows how much the Washingtons mean to each other so she opted to wait until her feelings went away.
Chris was the first person Sam told about liking Beth because they had been in the Washingtons’ lives for about the same amount of time and she didn’t think any of their other friends would understand why she didn’t ask just Beth out.
Josh was permitted to bring one friend on family vacations while Hannah and Beth were allowed to choose one friend as well since they had each other. Naturally this meant Sam and Chris went on a lot of family vacation with them.
It was on one of these vacations that the two got together. They had gone to the woods on a camping trip. Everyone but Sam and Beth refused to go for a polar bear swim. Beth’s clothes fell into the water and she ended up wearing Sam’s spare set. Sam liked the way Beth looked in her clothes so much she kissed her on the hike back to camp.
They didn’t talk for the rest of the walk but they did hold hands.
They went out together without telling anyone else that’s what they were doing because they both agreed to figure it out for themselves before bringing it up with their friends. 
Sam says their first date was when they went swimming on the camping trip because they kissed at the lake. Beth insists their first date was when she took Sam to a Cajun restaurant and she paid for both their meals because Beth had taken her out.
They’re both wrong. Their first date was a concert in the park between these two events.
They refused to date until they cleared it with Hannah and Josh first. 
Josh was put off and jealous because not only did Sam not want to date him, she wanted to date his little sister. He was on board pretty quickly after that. 
Hannah was much harder to convince. She said she was just fine with them being together but she clearly was not. She made nasty faces at Beth when she came into Hannah’s room to talk to Sam. She interrupted Sam whenever she mentioned Beth and made a point not to bring her up herself.
She finally backed off when Chris of all people confronted her about it saying she should be happy they’d asked about her feelings first and she was putting them in a difficult spot by making them chose between her and each other.
Hannah backed off and after a few weeks of watching them together did a complete 180. Although she’s now constantly asking them how they’re going to solve the maid of honor issue much to other two girls’ great embarrassment.
They are one of the worst PDA couples ever.
it takes months before they feel comfortable enough to have sex. Almost a whole year in fact.
Their first time quite fittingly happens during an afternoon picnic as far away from prying eyes as they can get. They are also discovered not long after they are done with ruffled hair and messy clothes by a group of bird watchers.
Once they start they can’t keep their hands off each other though. They make no secret what they are going to do when they separate from their group to have sex.
Despite being the taller one, Beth is little spoon.
Sam’s parents are not only okay with her dating Beth they’re downright thrilled, Beth’s parents try their best to ignore it.
Mike once jokingly suggested a threesome and has never tried again since after the verbal and literal beat-down he received from Beth.
Despite once having wanted to date her and knowing her so long he knew he could trust she would never do anything to his sister, Josh still gave Sam the big brother talk.
Beth is bad at expressing emotions in a non-physical way so half the time she will say “gay” when Sam does something sweet for her.
Sam is showering kind of girlfriend. She spends almost twice as much money and time and energy on Beth’s happiness than anything else. She is also the constant complimentor and the “have you seen my beautiful girlfriend?” one.
Beth is the jealous one. She tries sincerely not to be but she has issues with being the forgotten one out of her family so some of those insecurities transfer to her thinking Sam could do better than her.
Sam was the first to say ‘I love you’ and it took Beth five weeks to say it back.
Hope everything goes well. XP
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megatechcrunch · 6 years
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How to observe what your customers are already doing and turn those habits into the basis for product ideas.
“What if you launch your product...and nobody buys it?”
These were the words that compelled me, as a would-be graduate of the 30x500 bootcamp (a class that teaches people how to create and sell their first products), to become a student. It was a moment that would change my life.
Less than six months after graduating from the course, I created two products from scratch that made more money with fewer customers than the venture-backed startup I was a part of for almost five years.
This is a testament to the 30x500 approach: it forces product creators to cut directly to the heart of why a product should exist: to find a customer.
Again, these sentiments aren’t new. I was paraphrasing Peter Drucker’s words from almost 50 years ago: “the purpose of the enterprise is to create a customer.”
Talk about cutting directly to what’s been causing technology’s all-too-frequent product failures.
That’s, in fact, one of the motivations Hoy and Hillman had for creating the 30x500 bootcamp: railing against the phenomenon they call “ego-first development”: thinking that a product or idea is special just because it’s yours.
It’s a fallacy that sets you up for failure. It creates an endless cycle of throwing ideas against the wall with the hopes of finding something that works. Hoy puts it like this:
The core problem with so many businesses is that they’re based on what the business owner wants. They’re fantasizing about being the hero: “I’m going to ride in on my white ‘software’ horse, and save these poor people.”
Their programs have produced some incredible statistics since starting in only 2011. Students who have never created a product in their lives have gone on to make tens of thousands of dollars for themselves in the first few months after following the 30x500 framework. Other product rookies were generating five figures in recurring revenue after only a few months. Their students have gone on to gross over $2 million in aggregate sales over the bootcamp’s lifespan—despite the fact that the course is offered on an extremely limited basis.
One of their core teachings is this: creating a product based primarily on what you want focuses the product in exactly the wrong direction. When you do so, the primary benefit becomes the fact that you’ve created it, instead of what your product can do for others.
Ego-first development flies in the face of everything we’ve explored about how successful products are made. That’s because, as we’ve seen, concocting a product idea is really an act of listening. And without knowing who you’re serving and what they need, building product is simply another form of optimistic speculation.
But wouldn’t the Build-Measure-Learn feedback loop that’s been popularized by the Lean Startup model solve this problem? Isn’t the right path to “validate” your ideas with a “minimum viable product” through customer interviews?
The methodology behind the 30x500 class openly challenges what’s become common wisdom and all-too-frequent buzzwords in technologyland. Notions of “customer validation,” “minimum viable product,” and “pivoting” have successfully woven themselves deep into startup culture. But startup deaths aren’t letting up, despite the influx of capital and talent into technology startups and the occasional high-profile successes like Facebook, LinkedIn, and Airbnb in recent years. Despite the flood of cheap and eager money, 70% of dead technology companies were in the Internet sector.
The core tenet of the ready-fire-aim approach found in the Lean Startup framework is believing that one can find customers—and the right product to build—by asking what they want.
But this is an inherently flawed notion, because doing so relies upon:
Your ability to get your ego out of the way and to ask exactly the right questions at the right time from the right people.
Your potential customers being rational or aware enough to identify their own habits, wax eloquently about what bothers them, and express what would make them happy.
A freely accessible pool of people who aren’t going to tell you just what you want to hear, and who don’t change their habits after you interview them.
Hillman likens this belief to the dichotomy between observing lions in the zoo and how they behave in the wild:
Imagine going to see the lions on display in the zoo. Now imagine seeing the same species of lion in the wild on an African safari. Technically, you’re looking at the same animal both times. But they behave differently in the wild than they do in captivity.
You wouldn’t make a judgment call about what MOST lions do based on a lion in a zoo, because MOST lions aren’t in zoos.
So, what happens when you observe your customers like you’d observe lions on a safari? What happens when creating a new product isn’t an exercise in the “extreme uncertainty” espoused by the Lean Startup model?
You’ll know what your customers’ problems are. You’ll know what makes them happy and how they speak with each other. You’ll know exactly what to say and how to say it to pique their interest. And, ultimately, you’ll know how to make them want to use your product.
This approach forms the basis of 30x500’s modern ethnographic approach. Fittingly called “Sales Safari,” it’s a system that observes what your customers are already doing and turns those habits into the basis for product ideas.
Let’s take a look at Sales Safari now.
Find product ideas with sales safari
Going on a Sales Safari is the process of uncovering product ideas hiding in plain sight. It places the work of coming up with these ideas on your potential customers, and lays a foundation for repeatable success. Based on the observation techniques used by Lillian Gilbreth and Henry Dreyfuss, Sales Safari is what Amy Hoy—the method’s inventor—calls “net ethnography.”
“Sales Safari is ‘net ethnography,’ combined with some close reading and empathy,” she says. “[It’s] step-by-step empathizing with your customer to understand them.”
In case you’ve forgotten, ethnography’s central premise is that you can learn what people actually do when they’re not aware that you’re looking. By observing what people do and say, you’ll understand how they behave on their terms and not on yours.
Why’s this important when creating products? Because this observation enlightens us about two really important things: the contexts in which customers might use a product, and how that affects the relative value of your product in their daily lives.
“The key is to start by observing what [your customers] actually already do,” Hoy continues. “You don’t try to persuade a vegetarian to buy Omaha Steaks. You look at what they actually do in real life on the internet. What they read. What they share with each other. The problems they discuss. What things they ask help for. How they help others.”
What’s particularly unique about Sales Safari is that it takes place entirely online, for a number of reasons:
Access
You can reach almost any unique community that exists on Earth without leaving your chair.
Speed
Online research affords tons of conveniences like search engines, copy and paste, and more. Doing offline research is much harder to complete—and much harder to obtain without it being tainted by your presence.
A reliable record
When people are speaking in “meatspace,” you either have to remember what they said, scribble notes, or awkwardly record your conversation. Online observation, though, is out there for you to read and parse at your leisure.
Time to analyze
Online observation provides “the ability to disassociate what someone is saying from what you interpret them saying,” says 30x500 coteacher Alex Hillman.
Distance
You’re not physically present to influence anybody’s opinions, nor are you tempted to pull the research pitch—the act of pitching your product while asking people what they want. “People need to not know that you’re there watching,” Hillman continues. “That sounds really creepy to say it that way, but there’s a reason for it. This is professional lurking if you want to look at it that way. You’re there to watch what they do and say when they don’t know you’re there.”
Perspective
You literally have access to the entire internet to find people in a particular audience. You’re not limited to a local meetup or user group; instead, you can get the full picture of an audience’s pains from around the world.
Sales Safari’s intentional distance is designed to avoid the pitfalls of asking questions and influencing your subjects. In ethnographic circles, this is known as avoiding the “Margaret Mead problem.” Her story is a cautionary tale, and a predominant example of how being too close to the people you’re studying can distort the truth.
It’s 1928. Anthropologist Margaret Mead has finished writing her book, Coming of Age in Samoa, a study of the lives of teenage girls there: how they came of age, what their family structures were like, and so on.
The quick-and-dirty of the Mead story is that she lived with the villagers, asked about their lives, and listened to their stories—many of which were later revealed to have been made up by her teenage subjects. She took these stories at face value instead of observing their behavior. Years later, anthropologist Derek Freeman returned to the village, where the now-elderly teenage girls from Mead’s study admitted to making up stories just for fun.
That’s why observing people and not asking them is at the center of creating products that find a customer. And creating products that find customers depends on finding their pain.
Sales Safari’s designed to root out people’s pain. Because if you can discern what people’s problems are, then chances are you’re the one who’ll be able to solve those problems.
“People walk around trying to tune out their problems, because they don’t expect they can solve them,” says Hoy. “You have to reflect back to them. ‘Hey, this is the problem that you’re having. You know, it’s a big deal, but also we can fix it together.’”
Pain and problems—revealed by observation and empathy. It’s not a flashy notion, nor is it particularly groundbreaking. But it’s been at the center of how successful products get made for over a century.
By using modern online tools, Sales Safari can help you to start recognizing the patterns among your audience.
“In order for someone to go on the internet and ask a question of a group of strangers about how to solve their problem, [it’s] a very strong indicator of the level of pain they’re in,” Hillman says. “Even if it seems like very little pain to you. Like, ‘Oh, that’s so simple. Here’s how to fix it.’ It’s awesome that you think that, but that’s clearly not where they’re coming from. Otherwise, they would have fixed it by now.”
But how does Sales Safari help you uncover people’s problems? How does it help you to create products that will be used by more than just a few people?
Sales Safari works by observing “at scale.” That means spending not just a few hours, but dozens to hundreds of hours, analyzing your audience.
This, of course, implies that you’ve done the work beforehand to know where your audience or your customers hang out online. What forums, mailing lists, and link-sharing sites do they frequent? What are they writing in customer support emails or product reviews?
Then, it’s on to what Hoy says requires “close reading,” a study technique that’s meant to uncover layers of meaning in text. When you close read, you’re focusing on the way the person writes, how they see the world, or how they argue a particular point.
But we’re not doing this for literary analysis. We’re doing this to understand what people want.
Close reading, when used to understand an audience, uncovers a series of data points that will begin to form patterns.
“You start collecting jargon, some of their specific detailed language and words they use to describe the problem,” Hillman says. “Elements and contributions to their worldview, their deep-seated beliefs that are unshakable. Then also the things they talk about, they recommend. The things that they buy.”
Doing this can be overwhelming at first. It certainly was for me when I started studying designers as an audience. But what I found through Sales Safari led me to create both this book and two successful products.
And, to be honest, this is hard work. Hours will tick by. Probably days, actually. Pages upon pages of the internet will be scoured. But it’s work that the average person doesn’t do. Because it’s so easy to base a product idea on a handful of data points—a few coffee shop interviews, or what your friends and family think.
But Sales Safari’s power is that it’s a system designed to do two things: gather tons of data and help you analyze that data.
“[People] get one data point or they get one potential client or customer, and they think, ‘All right. This is it. I’m going to do [make this product].’ That’s really a recipe for failure,” Hoy says. “You need to keep doing whatever research you’re doing until it all comes together. It’ll seem fruitless up until the point where it immediately, like the clouds will part and a ray of sunshine will burst through. People like to go on one data point, because it doesn’t take any work and because it feels right. It’s bad, though. A bad idea.”
Gathering tons of data points means you’ll start to notice patterns trickling into your notes. Eventually, you’ll be able to categorize them: How does your audience see the world? What do they dwell on? How do they speak? What products do they use?
And, eventually, you’ll start noticing the most important element of all: what your audience’s problems are, written in their own words.
So, what happens when you’re able to empathize with a set of people, create something that they want, and pitch it to them in their own words? Sounds like you have an endless source of product ideas upon which to build.
As Hoy puts it, “The process is essentially, figure out what hurts them. Reflect that back to them in a very empathetic, understanding way. And then offer them assistance.”
And, applied over time, Sales Safari will help you track how your audience gradually changes. Tastes evolve. Worries morph. New pains are uncovered.
It’s really that simple, in theory—but only by actually putting it into practice will you and your product reap the benefits.
Continue reading How to create products people want.
from All - O'Reilly Media http://ift.tt/2yW10Pt
0 notes
csemntwinl3x0a1 · 6 years
Text
How to create products people want
How to create products people want
How to observe what your customers are already doing and turn those habits into the basis for product ideas.
“What if you launch your product...and nobody buys it?”
These were the words that compelled me, as a would-be graduate of the 30x500 bootcamp (a class that teaches people how to create and sell their first products), to become a student. It was a moment that would change my life.
Less than six months after graduating from the course, I created two products from scratch that made more money with fewer customers than the venture-backed startup I was a part of for almost five years.
This is a testament to the 30x500 approach: it forces product creators to cut directly to the heart of why a product should exist: to find a customer.
Again, these sentiments aren’t new. I was paraphrasing Peter Drucker’s words from almost 50 years ago: “the purpose of the enterprise is to create a customer.”
Talk about cutting directly to what’s been causing technology’s all-too-frequent product failures.
That’s, in fact, one of the motivations Hoy and Hillman had for creating the 30x500 bootcamp: railing against the phenomenon they call “ego-first development”: thinking that a product or idea is special just because it’s yours.
It’s a fallacy that sets you up for failure. It creates an endless cycle of throwing ideas against the wall with the hopes of finding something that works. Hoy puts it like this:
The core problem with so many businesses is that they’re based on what the business owner wants. They’re fantasizing about being the hero: “I’m going to ride in on my white ‘software’ horse, and save these poor people.”
Their programs have produced some incredible statistics since starting in only 2011. Students who have never created a product in their lives have gone on to make tens of thousands of dollars for themselves in the first few months after following the 30x500 framework. Other product rookies were generating five figures in recurring revenue after only a few months. Their students have gone on to gross over $2 million in aggregate sales over the bootcamp’s lifespan—despite the fact that the course is offered on an extremely limited basis.
One of their core teachings is this: creating a product based primarily on what you want focuses the product in exactly the wrong direction. When you do so, the primary benefit becomes the fact that you’ve created it, instead of what your product can do for others.
Ego-first development flies in the face of everything we’ve explored about how successful products are made. That’s because, as we’ve seen, concocting a product idea is really an act of listening. And without knowing who you’re serving and what they need, building product is simply another form of optimistic speculation.
But wouldn’t the Build-Measure-Learn feedback loop that’s been popularized by the Lean Startup model solve this problem? Isn’t the right path to “validate” your ideas with a “minimum viable product” through customer interviews?
The methodology behind the 30x500 class openly challenges what’s become common wisdom and all-too-frequent buzzwords in technologyland. Notions of “customer validation,” “minimum viable product,” and “pivoting” have successfully woven themselves deep into startup culture. But startup deaths aren’t letting up, despite the influx of capital and talent into technology startups and the occasional high-profile successes like Facebook, LinkedIn, and Airbnb in recent years. Despite the flood of cheap and eager money, 70% of dead technology companies were in the Internet sector.
The core tenet of the ready-fire-aim approach found in the Lean Startup framework is believing that one can find customers—and the right product to build—by asking what they want.
But this is an inherently flawed notion, because doing so relies upon:
Your ability to get your ego out of the way and to ask exactly the right questions at the right time from the right people.
Your potential customers being rational or aware enough to identify their own habits, wax eloquently about what bothers them, and express what would make them happy.
A freely accessible pool of people who aren’t going to tell you just what you want to hear, and who don’t change their habits after you interview them.
Hillman likens this belief to the dichotomy between observing lions in the zoo and how they behave in the wild:
Imagine going to see the lions on display in the zoo. Now imagine seeing the same species of lion in the wild on an African safari. Technically, you’re looking at the same animal both times. But they behave differently in the wild than they do in captivity.
You wouldn’t make a judgment call about what MOST lions do based on a lion in a zoo, because MOST lions aren’t in zoos.
So, what happens when you observe your customers like you’d observe lions on a safari? What happens when creating a new product isn’t an exercise in the “extreme uncertainty” espoused by the Lean Startup model?
You’ll know what your customers’ problems are. You’ll know what makes them happy and how they speak with each other. You’ll know exactly what to say and how to say it to pique their interest. And, ultimately, you’ll know how to make them want to use your product.
This approach forms the basis of 30x500’s modern ethnographic approach. Fittingly called “Sales Safari,” it’s a system that observes what your customers are already doing and turns those habits into the basis for product ideas.
Let’s take a look at Sales Safari now.
Find product ideas with sales safari
Going on a Sales Safari is the process of uncovering product ideas hiding in plain sight. It places the work of coming up with these ideas on your potential customers, and lays a foundation for repeatable success. Based on the observation techniques used by Lillian Gilbreth and Henry Dreyfuss, Sales Safari is what Amy Hoy—the method’s inventor—calls “net ethnography.”
“Sales Safari is ‘net ethnography,’ combined with some close reading and empathy,” she says. “[It’s] step-by-step empathizing with your customer to understand them.”
In case you’ve forgotten, ethnography’s central premise is that you can learn what people actually do when they’re not aware that you’re looking. By observing what people do and say, you’ll understand how they behave on their terms and not on yours.
Why’s this important when creating products? Because this observation enlightens us about two really important things: the contexts in which customers might use a product, and how that affects the relative value of your product in their daily lives.
“The key is to start by observing what [your customers] actually already do,” Hoy continues. “You don’t try to persuade a vegetarian to buy Omaha Steaks. You look at what they actually do in real life on the internet. What they read. What they share with each other. The problems they discuss. What things they ask help for. How they help others.”
What’s particularly unique about Sales Safari is that it takes place entirely online, for a number of reasons:
Access
You can reach almost any unique community that exists on Earth without leaving your chair.
Speed
Online research affords tons of conveniences like search engines, copy and paste, and more. Doing offline research is much harder to complete—and much harder to obtain without it being tainted by your presence.
A reliable record
When people are speaking in “meatspace,” you either have to remember what they said, scribble notes, or awkwardly record your conversation. Online observation, though, is out there for you to read and parse at your leisure.
Time to analyze
Online observation provides “the ability to disassociate what someone is saying from what you interpret them saying,” says 30x500 coteacher Alex Hillman.
Distance
You’re not physically present to influence anybody’s opinions, nor are you tempted to pull the research pitch—the act of pitching your product while asking people what they want. “People need to not know that you’re there watching,” Hillman continues. “That sounds really creepy to say it that way, but there’s a reason for it. This is professional lurking if you want to look at it that way. You’re there to watch what they do and say when they don’t know you’re there.”
Perspective
You literally have access to the entire internet to find people in a particular audience. You’re not limited to a local meetup or user group; instead, you can get the full picture of an audience’s pains from around the world.
Sales Safari’s intentional distance is designed to avoid the pitfalls of asking questions and influencing your subjects. In ethnographic circles, this is known as avoiding the “Margaret Mead problem.” Her story is a cautionary tale, and a predominant example of how being too close to the people you’re studying can distort the truth.
It’s 1928. Anthropologist Margaret Mead has finished writing her book, Coming of Age in Samoa, a study of the lives of teenage girls there: how they came of age, what their family structures were like, and so on.
The quick-and-dirty of the Mead story is that she lived with the villagers, asked about their lives, and listened to their stories—many of which were later revealed to have been made up by her teenage subjects. She took these stories at face value instead of observing their behavior. Years later, anthropologist Derek Freeman returned to the village, where the now-elderly teenage girls from Mead’s study admitted to making up stories just for fun.
That’s why observing people and not asking them is at the center of creating products that find a customer. And creating products that find customers depends on finding their pain.
Sales Safari’s designed to root out people’s pain. Because if you can discern what people’s problems are, then chances are you’re the one who’ll be able to solve those problems.
“People walk around trying to tune out their problems, because they don’t expect they can solve them,” says Hoy. “You have to reflect back to them. ‘Hey, this is the problem that you’re having. You know, it’s a big deal, but also we can fix it together.’”
Pain and problems—revealed by observation and empathy. It’s not a flashy notion, nor is it particularly groundbreaking. But it’s been at the center of how successful products get made for over a century.
By using modern online tools, Sales Safari can help you to start recognizing the patterns among your audience.
“In order for someone to go on the internet and ask a question of a group of strangers about how to solve their problem, [it’s] a very strong indicator of the level of pain they’re in,” Hillman says. “Even if it seems like very little pain to you. Like, ‘Oh, that’s so simple. Here’s how to fix it.’ It’s awesome that you think that, but that’s clearly not where they’re coming from. Otherwise, they would have fixed it by now.”
But how does Sales Safari help you uncover people’s problems? How does it help you to create products that will be used by more than just a few people?
Sales Safari works by observing “at scale.” That means spending not just a few hours, but dozens to hundreds of hours, analyzing your audience.
This, of course, implies that you’ve done the work beforehand to know where your audience or your customers hang out online. What forums, mailing lists, and link-sharing sites do they frequent? What are they writing in customer support emails or product reviews?
Then, it’s on to what Hoy says requires “close reading,” a study technique that’s meant to uncover layers of meaning in text. When you close read, you’re focusing on the way the person writes, how they see the world, or how they argue a particular point.
But we’re not doing this for literary analysis. We’re doing this to understand what people want.
Close reading, when used to understand an audience, uncovers a series of data points that will begin to form patterns.
“You start collecting jargon, some of their specific detailed language and words they use to describe the problem,” Hillman says. “Elements and contributions to their worldview, their deep-seated beliefs that are unshakable. Then also the things they talk about, they recommend. The things that they buy.”
Doing this can be overwhelming at first. It certainly was for me when I started studying designers as an audience. But what I found through Sales Safari led me to create both this book and two successful products.
And, to be honest, this is hard work. Hours will tick by. Probably days, actually. Pages upon pages of the internet will be scoured. But it’s work that the average person doesn’t do. Because it’s so easy to base a product idea on a handful of data points—a few coffee shop interviews, or what your friends and family think.
But Sales Safari’s power is that it’s a system designed to do two things: gather tons of data and help you analyze that data.
“[People] get one data point or they get one potential client or customer, and they think, ‘All right. This is it. I’m going to do [make this product].’ That’s really a recipe for failure,” Hoy says. “You need to keep doing whatever research you’re doing until it all comes together. It’ll seem fruitless up until the point where it immediately, like the clouds will part and a ray of sunshine will burst through. People like to go on one data point, because it doesn’t take any work and because it feels right. It’s bad, though. A bad idea.”
Gathering tons of data points means you’ll start to notice patterns trickling into your notes. Eventually, you’ll be able to categorize them: How does your audience see the world? What do they dwell on? How do they speak? What products do they use?
And, eventually, you’ll start noticing the most important element of all: what your audience’s problems are, written in their own words.
So, what happens when you’re able to empathize with a set of people, create something that they want, and pitch it to them in their own words? Sounds like you have an endless source of product ideas upon which to build.
As Hoy puts it, “The process is essentially, figure out what hurts them. Reflect that back to them in a very empathetic, understanding way. And then offer them assistance.”
And, applied over time, Sales Safari will help you track how your audience gradually changes. Tastes evolve. Worries morph. New pains are uncovered.
It’s really that simple, in theory—but only by actually putting it into practice will you and your product reap the benefits.
Continue reading How to create products people want.
http://ift.tt/2yW10Pt
0 notes
doorrepcal33169 · 6 years
Text
How to create products people want
How to observe what your customers are already doing and turn those habits into the basis for product ideas.
“What if you launch your product...and nobody buys it?”
These were the words that compelled me, as a would-be graduate of the 30x500 bootcamp (a class that teaches people how to create and sell their first products), to become a student. It was a moment that would change my life.
Less than six months after graduating from the course, I created two products from scratch that made more money with fewer customers than the venture-backed startup I was a part of for almost five years.
This is a testament to the 30x500 approach: it forces product creators to cut directly to the heart of why a product should exist: to find a customer.
Again, these sentiments aren’t new. I was paraphrasing Peter Drucker’s words from almost 50 years ago: “the purpose of the enterprise is to create a customer.”
Talk about cutting directly to what’s been causing technology’s all-too-frequent product failures.
That’s, in fact, one of the motivations Hoy and Hillman had for creating the 30x500 bootcamp: railing against the phenomenon they call “ego-first development”: thinking that a product or idea is special just because it’s yours.
It’s a fallacy that sets you up for failure. It creates an endless cycle of throwing ideas against the wall with the hopes of finding something that works. Hoy puts it like this:
The core problem with so many businesses is that they’re based on what the business owner wants. They’re fantasizing about being the hero: “I’m going to ride in on my white ‘software’ horse, and save these poor people.”
Their programs have produced some incredible statistics since starting in only 2011. Students who have never created a product in their lives have gone on to make tens of thousands of dollars for themselves in the first few months after following the 30x500 framework. Other product rookies were generating five figures in recurring revenue after only a few months. Their students have gone on to gross over $2 million in aggregate sales over the bootcamp’s lifespan—despite the fact that the course is offered on an extremely limited basis.
One of their core teachings is this: creating a product based primarily on what you want focuses the product in exactly the wrong direction. When you do so, the primary benefit becomes the fact that you’ve created it, instead of what your product can do for others.
Ego-first development flies in the face of everything we’ve explored about how successful products are made. That’s because, as we’ve seen, concocting a product idea is really an act of listening. And without knowing who you’re serving and what they need, building product is simply another form of optimistic speculation.
But wouldn’t the Build-Measure-Learn feedback loop that’s been popularized by the Lean Startup model solve this problem? Isn’t the right path to “validate” your ideas with a “minimum viable product” through customer interviews?
The methodology behind the 30x500 class openly challenges what’s become common wisdom and all-too-frequent buzzwords in technologyland. Notions of “customer validation,” “minimum viable product,” and “pivoting” have successfully woven themselves deep into startup culture. But startup deaths aren’t letting up, despite the influx of capital and talent into technology startups and the occasional high-profile successes like Facebook, LinkedIn, and Airbnb in recent years. Despite the flood of cheap and eager money, 70% of dead technology companies were in the Internet sector.
The core tenet of the ready-fire-aim approach found in the Lean Startup framework is believing that one can find customers—and the right product to build—by asking what they want.
But this is an inherently flawed notion, because doing so relies upon:
Your ability to get your ego out of the way and to ask exactly the right questions at the right time from the right people.
Your potential customers being rational or aware enough to identify their own habits, wax eloquently about what bothers them, and express what would make them happy.
A freely accessible pool of people who aren’t going to tell you just what you want to hear, and who don’t change their habits after you interview them.
Hillman likens this belief to the dichotomy between observing lions in the zoo and how they behave in the wild:
Imagine going to see the lions on display in the zoo. Now imagine seeing the same species of lion in the wild on an African safari. Technically, you’re looking at the same animal both times. But they behave differently in the wild than they do in captivity.
You wouldn’t make a judgment call about what MOST lions do based on a lion in a zoo, because MOST lions aren’t in zoos.
So, what happens when you observe your customers like you’d observe lions on a safari? What happens when creating a new product isn’t an exercise in the “extreme uncertainty” espoused by the Lean Startup model?
You’ll know what your customers’ problems are. You’ll know what makes them happy and how they speak with each other. You’ll know exactly what to say and how to say it to pique their interest. And, ultimately, you’ll know how to make them want to use your product.
This approach forms the basis of 30x500’s modern ethnographic approach. Fittingly called “Sales Safari,” it’s a system that observes what your customers are already doing and turns those habits into the basis for product ideas.
Let’s take a look at Sales Safari now.
Find product ideas with sales safari
Going on a Sales Safari is the process of uncovering product ideas hiding in plain sight. It places the work of coming up with these ideas on your potential customers, and lays a foundation for repeatable success. Based on the observation techniques used by Lillian Gilbreth and Henry Dreyfuss, Sales Safari is what Amy Hoy—the method’s inventor—calls “net ethnography.”
“Sales Safari is ‘net ethnography,’ combined with some close reading and empathy,” she says. “[It’s] step-by-step empathizing with your customer to understand them.”
In case you’ve forgotten, ethnography’s central premise is that you can learn what people actually do when they’re not aware that you’re looking. By observing what people do and say, you’ll understand how they behave on their terms and not on yours.
Why’s this important when creating products? Because this observation enlightens us about two really important things: the contexts in which customers might use a product, and how that affects the relative value of your product in their daily lives.
“The key is to start by observing what [your customers] actually already do,” Hoy continues. “You don’t try to persuade a vegetarian to buy Omaha Steaks. You look at what they actually do in real life on the internet. What they read. What they share with each other. The problems they discuss. What things they ask help for. How they help others.”
What’s particularly unique about Sales Safari is that it takes place entirely online, for a number of reasons:
Access
You can reach almost any unique community that exists on Earth without leaving your chair.
Speed
Online research affords tons of conveniences like search engines, copy and paste, and more. Doing offline research is much harder to complete—and much harder to obtain without it being tainted by your presence.
A reliable record
When people are speaking in “meatspace,” you either have to remember what they said, scribble notes, or awkwardly record your conversation. Online observation, though, is out there for you to read and parse at your leisure.
Time to analyze
Online observation provides “the ability to disassociate what someone is saying from what you interpret them saying,” says 30x500 coteacher Alex Hillman.
Distance
You’re not physically present to influence anybody’s opinions, nor are you tempted to pull the research pitch—the act of pitching your product while asking people what they want. “People need to not know that you’re there watching,” Hillman continues. “That sounds really creepy to say it that way, but there’s a reason for it. This is professional lurking if you want to look at it that way. You’re there to watch what they do and say when they don’t know you’re there.”
Perspective
You literally have access to the entire internet to find people in a particular audience. You’re not limited to a local meetup or user group; instead, you can get the full picture of an audience’s pains from around the world.
Sales Safari’s intentional distance is designed to avoid the pitfalls of asking questions and influencing your subjects. In ethnographic circles, this is known as avoiding the “Margaret Mead problem.” Her story is a cautionary tale, and a predominant example of how being too close to the people you’re studying can distort the truth.
It’s 1928. Anthropologist Margaret Mead has finished writing her book, Coming of Age in Samoa, a study of the lives of teenage girls there: how they came of age, what their family structures were like, and so on.
The quick-and-dirty of the Mead story is that she lived with the villagers, asked about their lives, and listened to their stories—many of which were later revealed to have been made up by her teenage subjects. She took these stories at face value instead of observing their behavior. Years later, anthropologist Derek Freeman returned to the village, where the now-elderly teenage girls from Mead’s study admitted to making up stories just for fun.
That’s why observing people and not asking them is at the center of creating products that find a customer. And creating products that find customers depends on finding their pain.
Sales Safari’s designed to root out people’s pain. Because if you can discern what people’s problems are, then chances are you’re the one who’ll be able to solve those problems.
“People walk around trying to tune out their problems, because they don’t expect they can solve them,” says Hoy. “You have to reflect back to them. ‘Hey, this is the problem that you’re having. You know, it’s a big deal, but also we can fix it together.’”
Pain and problems—revealed by observation and empathy. It’s not a flashy notion, nor is it particularly groundbreaking. But it’s been at the center of how successful products get made for over a century.
By using modern online tools, Sales Safari can help you to start recognizing the patterns among your audience.
“In order for someone to go on the internet and ask a question of a group of strangers about how to solve their problem, [it’s] a very strong indicator of the level of pain they’re in,” Hillman says. “Even if it seems like very little pain to you. Like, ‘Oh, that’s so simple. Here’s how to fix it.’ It’s awesome that you think that, but that’s clearly not where they’re coming from. Otherwise, they would have fixed it by now.”
But how does Sales Safari help you uncover people’s problems? How does it help you to create products that will be used by more than just a few people?
Sales Safari works by observing “at scale.” That means spending not just a few hours, but dozens to hundreds of hours, analyzing your audience.
This, of course, implies that you’ve done the work beforehand to know where your audience or your customers hang out online. What forums, mailing lists, and link-sharing sites do they frequent? What are they writing in customer support emails or product reviews?
Then, it’s on to what Hoy says requires “close reading,” a study technique that’s meant to uncover layers of meaning in text. When you close read, you’re focusing on the way the person writes, how they see the world, or how they argue a particular point.
But we’re not doing this for literary analysis. We’re doing this to understand what people want.
Close reading, when used to understand an audience, uncovers a series of data points that will begin to form patterns.
“You start collecting jargon, some of their specific detailed language and words they use to describe the problem,” Hillman says. “Elements and contributions to their worldview, their deep-seated beliefs that are unshakable. Then also the things they talk about, they recommend. The things that they buy.”
Doing this can be overwhelming at first. It certainly was for me when I started studying designers as an audience. But what I found through Sales Safari led me to create both this book and two successful products.
And, to be honest, this is hard work. Hours will tick by. Probably days, actually. Pages upon pages of the internet will be scoured. But it’s work that the average person doesn’t do. Because it’s so easy to base a product idea on a handful of data points—a few coffee shop interviews, or what your friends and family think.
But Sales Safari’s power is that it’s a system designed to do two things: gather tons of data and help you analyze that data.
“[People] get one data point or they get one potential client or customer, and they think, ‘All right. This is it. I’m going to do [make this product].’ That’s really a recipe for failure,” Hoy says. “You need to keep doing whatever research you’re doing until it all comes together. It’ll seem fruitless up until the point where it immediately, like the clouds will part and a ray of sunshine will burst through. People like to go on one data point, because it doesn’t take any work and because it feels right. It’s bad, though. A bad idea.”
Gathering tons of data points means you’ll start to notice patterns trickling into your notes. Eventually, you’ll be able to categorize them: How does your audience see the world? What do they dwell on? How do they speak? What products do they use?
And, eventually, you’ll start noticing the most important element of all: what your audience’s problems are, written in their own words.
So, what happens when you’re able to empathize with a set of people, create something that they want, and pitch it to them in their own words? Sounds like you have an endless source of product ideas upon which to build.
As Hoy puts it, “The process is essentially, figure out what hurts them. Reflect that back to them in a very empathetic, understanding way. And then offer them assistance.”
And, applied over time, Sales Safari will help you track how your audience gradually changes. Tastes evolve. Worries morph. New pains are uncovered.
It’s really that simple, in theory—but only by actually putting it into practice will you and your product reap the benefits.
Continue reading How to create products people want.
from FEED 10 TECHNOLOGY http://ift.tt/2yW10Pt
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repmywind02199 · 6 years
Text
How to create products people want
How to create products people want
How to observe what your customers are already doing and turn those habits into the basis for product ideas.
“What if you launch your product...and nobody buys it?”
These were the words that compelled me, as a would-be graduate of the 30x500 bootcamp (a class that teaches people how to create and sell their first products), to become a student. It was a moment that would change my life.
Less than six months after graduating from the course, I created two products from scratch that made more money with fewer customers than the venture-backed startup I was a part of for almost five years.
This is a testament to the 30x500 approach: it forces product creators to cut directly to the heart of why a product should exist: to find a customer.
Again, these sentiments aren’t new. I was paraphrasing Peter Drucker’s words from almost 50 years ago: “the purpose of the enterprise is to create a customer.”
Talk about cutting directly to what’s been causing technology’s all-too-frequent product failures.
That’s, in fact, one of the motivations Hoy and Hillman had for creating the 30x500 bootcamp: railing against the phenomenon they call “ego-first development”: thinking that a product or idea is special just because it’s yours.
It’s a fallacy that sets you up for failure. It creates an endless cycle of throwing ideas against the wall with the hopes of finding something that works. Hoy puts it like this:
The core problem with so many businesses is that they’re based on what the business owner wants. They’re fantasizing about being the hero: “I’m going to ride in on my white ‘software’ horse, and save these poor people.”
Their programs have produced some incredible statistics since starting in only 2011. Students who have never created a product in their lives have gone on to make tens of thousands of dollars for themselves in the first few months after following the 30x500 framework. Other product rookies were generating five figures in recurring revenue after only a few months. Their students have gone on to gross over $2 million in aggregate sales over the bootcamp’s lifespan—despite the fact that the course is offered on an extremely limited basis.
One of their core teachings is this: creating a product based primarily on what you want focuses the product in exactly the wrong direction. When you do so, the primary benefit becomes the fact that you’ve created it, instead of what your product can do for others.
Ego-first development flies in the face of everything we’ve explored about how successful products are made. That’s because, as we’ve seen, concocting a product idea is really an act of listening. And without knowing who you’re serving and what they need, building product is simply another form of optimistic speculation.
But wouldn’t the Build-Measure-Learn feedback loop that’s been popularized by the Lean Startup model solve this problem? Isn’t the right path to “validate” your ideas with a “minimum viable product” through customer interviews?
The methodology behind the 30x500 class openly challenges what’s become common wisdom and all-too-frequent buzzwords in technologyland. Notions of “customer validation,” “minimum viable product,” and “pivoting” have successfully woven themselves deep into startup culture. But startup deaths aren’t letting up, despite the influx of capital and talent into technology startups and the occasional high-profile successes like Facebook, LinkedIn, and Airbnb in recent years. Despite the flood of cheap and eager money, 70% of dead technology companies were in the Internet sector.
The core tenet of the ready-fire-aim approach found in the Lean Startup framework is believing that one can find customers—and the right product to build—by asking what they want.
But this is an inherently flawed notion, because doing so relies upon:
Your ability to get your ego out of the way and to ask exactly the right questions at the right time from the right people.
Your potential customers being rational or aware enough to identify their own habits, wax eloquently about what bothers them, and express what would make them happy.
A freely accessible pool of people who aren’t going to tell you just what you want to hear, and who don’t change their habits after you interview them.
Hillman likens this belief to the dichotomy between observing lions in the zoo and how they behave in the wild:
Imagine going to see the lions on display in the zoo. Now imagine seeing the same species of lion in the wild on an African safari. Technically, you’re looking at the same animal both times. But they behave differently in the wild than they do in captivity.
You wouldn’t make a judgment call about what MOST lions do based on a lion in a zoo, because MOST lions aren’t in zoos.
So, what happens when you observe your customers like you’d observe lions on a safari? What happens when creating a new product isn’t an exercise in the “extreme uncertainty” espoused by the Lean Startup model?
You’ll know what your customers’ problems are. You’ll know what makes them happy and how they speak with each other. You’ll know exactly what to say and how to say it to pique their interest. And, ultimately, you’ll know how to make them want to use your product.
This approach forms the basis of 30x500’s modern ethnographic approach. Fittingly called “Sales Safari,” it’s a system that observes what your customers are already doing and turns those habits into the basis for product ideas.
Let’s take a look at Sales Safari now.
Find product ideas with sales safari
Going on a Sales Safari is the process of uncovering product ideas hiding in plain sight. It places the work of coming up with these ideas on your potential customers, and lays a foundation for repeatable success. Based on the observation techniques used by Lillian Gilbreth and Henry Dreyfuss, Sales Safari is what Amy Hoy—the method’s inventor—calls “net ethnography.”
“Sales Safari is ‘net ethnography,’ combined with some close reading and empathy,” she says. “[It’s] step-by-step empathizing with your customer to understand them.”
In case you’ve forgotten, ethnography’s central premise is that you can learn what people actually do when they’re not aware that you’re looking. By observing what people do and say, you’ll understand how they behave on their terms and not on yours.
Why’s this important when creating products? Because this observation enlightens us about two really important things: the contexts in which customers might use a product, and how that affects the relative value of your product in their daily lives.
“The key is to start by observing what [your customers] actually already do,” Hoy continues. “You don’t try to persuade a vegetarian to buy Omaha Steaks. You look at what they actually do in real life on the internet. What they read. What they share with each other. The problems they discuss. What things they ask help for. How they help others.”
What’s particularly unique about Sales Safari is that it takes place entirely online, for a number of reasons:
Access
You can reach almost any unique community that exists on Earth without leaving your chair.
Speed
Online research affords tons of conveniences like search engines, copy and paste, and more. Doing offline research is much harder to complete—and much harder to obtain without it being tainted by your presence.
A reliable record
When people are speaking in “meatspace,” you either have to remember what they said, scribble notes, or awkwardly record your conversation. Online observation, though, is out there for you to read and parse at your leisure.
Time to analyze
Online observation provides “the ability to disassociate what someone is saying from what you interpret them saying,” says 30x500 coteacher Alex Hillman.
Distance
You’re not physically present to influence anybody’s opinions, nor are you tempted to pull the research pitch—the act of pitching your product while asking people what they want. “People need to not know that you’re there watching,” Hillman continues. “That sounds really creepy to say it that way, but there’s a reason for it. This is professional lurking if you want to look at it that way. You’re there to watch what they do and say when they don’t know you’re there.”
Perspective
You literally have access to the entire internet to find people in a particular audience. You’re not limited to a local meetup or user group; instead, you can get the full picture of an audience’s pains from around the world.
Sales Safari’s intentional distance is designed to avoid the pitfalls of asking questions and influencing your subjects. In ethnographic circles, this is known as avoiding the “Margaret Mead problem.” Her story is a cautionary tale, and a predominant example of how being too close to the people you’re studying can distort the truth.
It’s 1928. Anthropologist Margaret Mead has finished writing her book, Coming of Age in Samoa, a study of the lives of teenage girls there: how they came of age, what their family structures were like, and so on.
The quick-and-dirty of the Mead story is that she lived with the villagers, asked about their lives, and listened to their stories—many of which were later revealed to have been made up by her teenage subjects. She took these stories at face value instead of observing their behavior. Years later, anthropologist Derek Freeman returned to the village, where the now-elderly teenage girls from Mead’s study admitted to making up stories just for fun.
That’s why observing people and not asking them is at the center of creating products that find a customer. And creating products that find customers depends on finding their pain.
Sales Safari’s designed to root out people’s pain. Because if you can discern what people’s problems are, then chances are you’re the one who’ll be able to solve those problems.
“People walk around trying to tune out their problems, because they don’t expect they can solve them,” says Hoy. “You have to reflect back to them. ‘Hey, this is the problem that you’re having. You know, it’s a big deal, but also we can fix it together.’”
Pain and problems—revealed by observation and empathy. It’s not a flashy notion, nor is it particularly groundbreaking. But it’s been at the center of how successful products get made for over a century.
By using modern online tools, Sales Safari can help you to start recognizing the patterns among your audience.
“In order for someone to go on the internet and ask a question of a group of strangers about how to solve their problem, [it’s] a very strong indicator of the level of pain they’re in,” Hillman says. “Even if it seems like very little pain to you. Like, ‘Oh, that’s so simple. Here’s how to fix it.’ It’s awesome that you think that, but that’s clearly not where they’re coming from. Otherwise, they would have fixed it by now.”
But how does Sales Safari help you uncover people’s problems? How does it help you to create products that will be used by more than just a few people?
Sales Safari works by observing “at scale.” That means spending not just a few hours, but dozens to hundreds of hours, analyzing your audience.
This, of course, implies that you’ve done the work beforehand to know where your audience or your customers hang out online. What forums, mailing lists, and link-sharing sites do they frequent? What are they writing in customer support emails or product reviews?
Then, it’s on to what Hoy says requires “close reading,” a study technique that’s meant to uncover layers of meaning in text. When you close read, you’re focusing on the way the person writes, how they see the world, or how they argue a particular point.
But we’re not doing this for literary analysis. We’re doing this to understand what people want.
Close reading, when used to understand an audience, uncovers a series of data points that will begin to form patterns.
“You start collecting jargon, some of their specific detailed language and words they use to describe the problem,” Hillman says. “Elements and contributions to their worldview, their deep-seated beliefs that are unshakable. Then also the things they talk about, they recommend. The things that they buy.”
Doing this can be overwhelming at first. It certainly was for me when I started studying designers as an audience. But what I found through Sales Safari led me to create both this book and two successful products.
And, to be honest, this is hard work. Hours will tick by. Probably days, actually. Pages upon pages of the internet will be scoured. But it’s work that the average person doesn’t do. Because it’s so easy to base a product idea on a handful of data points—a few coffee shop interviews, or what your friends and family think.
But Sales Safari’s power is that it’s a system designed to do two things: gather tons of data and help you analyze that data.
“[People] get one data point or they get one potential client or customer, and they think, ‘All right. This is it. I’m going to do [make this product].’ That’s really a recipe for failure,” Hoy says. “You need to keep doing whatever research you’re doing until it all comes together. It’ll seem fruitless up until the point where it immediately, like the clouds will part and a ray of sunshine will burst through. People like to go on one data point, because it doesn’t take any work and because it feels right. It’s bad, though. A bad idea.”
Gathering tons of data points means you’ll start to notice patterns trickling into your notes. Eventually, you’ll be able to categorize them: How does your audience see the world? What do they dwell on? How do they speak? What products do they use?
And, eventually, you’ll start noticing the most important element of all: what your audience’s problems are, written in their own words.
So, what happens when you’re able to empathize with a set of people, create something that they want, and pitch it to them in their own words? Sounds like you have an endless source of product ideas upon which to build.
As Hoy puts it, “The process is essentially, figure out what hurts them. Reflect that back to them in a very empathetic, understanding way. And then offer them assistance.”
And, applied over time, Sales Safari will help you track how your audience gradually changes. Tastes evolve. Worries morph. New pains are uncovered.
It’s really that simple, in theory—but only by actually putting it into practice will you and your product reap the benefits.
Continue reading How to create products people want.
http://ift.tt/2yW10Pt
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