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stellocchia · 3 years

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So, I once made a post about c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship throughout season 1 (which you can find here), but today I was thinking, why not do the same for the Exile Arc?

There are some people that still don’t seem to have a comprehensive idea of what actually went down during that time (either because they joined the fandom afterwards or haven’t watched it at the time) so I’ll try to do that here. I’ll cover the first 2 streams here, and then continue in the next part because this is gonna be way too damn long otherwise...

As always I’ll be talking only about the characters and the roleplay from here on out and also I’ll be touching on some very heavy topics under the cut (such as gaslighting and abuse). Also this is gonna be another one of my Overly Long Analysis, so... you know... be warned of that.

I’ll be going through this vod by vod, so It will be so long... God why do I always do this to myself?

Let’s start with TommyInnit Is Exiled From The Dream SMP... which is the vod when Tommy actually get’s exiled.

So, the exile scene per se has been covered a 100 times over, but, right after Tubbo asking Dream to “please detain and excort Tommy out of my country” Dream yeets Tommy off the walls and then he immediately establishes the general idea of how it’ll be in exile: “I don’t think you wanna die Tommy. You need to- to listen to me”.

Also it is to be noted that in this “exile” time and time again Dream establishes arbitrary rules that were most certanly not meant in the initial sentence (which is why it’s much more of a kidnapping then an actual exile). Starting from before they even leave L’Manburg completely. In fact when they are still in the vc with the others and still just down from the obsidian walls, Tommy and Dream have this exchange:

“Do I have any time to speak words? What can...” “NO. NO. NO. NO!” “what the...”

And then right after (just after leaving the vc):

“Do you have food?” “Yeah...” “Good, we’ll be going a long while still” “Am I not allowed- well surely- surely I’m only exiled from L’Manburg-” “Oh, no no no. You’re exiled from everywhere that’s been touched”

The sentence was only for him to be exiled from L’Manburg. Dream theoretically only had authority over the Greater Dream smp in any case, so how come immediately Tommy’s “sentence” becomes being exiled from “everywhere that has been touched”? What authority did Dream have to exile him from the Badlands? Or the Holy Grounds (considering those are widely considered neutral)?

This is from right after Ghostbur joins them:

“Well, I don’t- I don’t have to come with you” “Well, I mean, I’ll kill you” (...) "I don’t have to follow you! I don’t-” “Tommy! Then I’ll just kill you. What happens if I kill you?” “I die...”

Again, technically Tubbo only asked Dream to escort Tommy out of his country, not all the way to his place of exile. Tommy here is right, he is exiled, he is not supposed to have a jailor going with him, he is not supposed to be imprisoned. All he supposedly had to do was get off the lands he wasn’t allowed into and then he’d be good. Of course Dream’s plans were different there.

Also the trend of constantly undermining anything Tommy is feeling at any given moment sure doesn’t stop with the Exile Arc!

“No, no! I don’t want to head anywhere! I wanna to go back! I wanna go back!” “Fine fine, we’ll head this way then. It’s fine, this is fine” “I don’t wanna go!” “Tommy come on...”

Honorable mention to Dream talking about the first time he exiled Tommy:

“Do you remember- this is actually funny! Do you remember the first time you ever joined the server? And uhm... you got exiled? By me?” “Yeah?” “It’s kinda like that, except now if you don’t listen you die”

And the conditioning begins all the way here, with Dream trying to decide Tommy’s emotions for him:

“Oh... I hate you” “*laughs* Okay Tommy, you don’t hate me” “No, no I definitely do” “Noooo, you don’t hate me”

Cue Dream just blowing up Tommy’s second Summer Home after he explained that it was supposed to be a safe haven for him and Tubbo. Also note that Dream is already getting rid of any mob attacking Tommy even if at this point he still had armour and weapons to defend himself. I talked about this before, but Dream does seem to want Tommy to be as dependent on him as he is on Tommy, which is why during exile he made him dependent on him for protection/safety and company and in prison for food. Also Ghostbur going: “I don’t think this man is very nice...”, thank you Ghostbur, I wish you could remember that, but you’re trying your best and I appreciate it...

“How long is- how long am I exiled for? When can I just go back?” “You can’t (...) if you go back you die”

Again, not Dream’s decision to make. Tubbo was the one exiling Tommy meaning that, if Tubbo actually had the decision power in that istance, Tubbo was the one who should have decided when he could come back. Also, again reiterating the point from before:

“I thought I was only banished from L’Manburg, that was the deal, not the entirety of the smp-” “Oh no. No you’re banished far enough where they don’t see you”

Also, a little look into Tommy’s mentality here:

“Tubbo said he wasn’t thinking with emotion, but with reason, but: what the fuck is the point if there isn’t any- any emotion?!”

This is honestly why he is Dream’s exact opposite and probably why he finds him fun, while Tubbo is irrelevant to him. Tommy thinks emotions should always be taken into account when making decisions and he values sentimentality over everything. Dream is the opposite, to him emotions are irrelevant and sentimentality is a weakness. Tubbo is a bit of both, which makes his clash of ideologies with Dream a lot less evident.

Anyway, they get to the island and Dream builds Tommy a dirt shack for him to set his spawn into. And then there is the first istance of Dream taking all of Tommy’s stuff (building blocks and food included) and blowing it up. Which, again, is in no way an actual exile condition. Tommy is in jail basically. He got kidnapped and now he is in jail. Also right after that Dream gives them food and obsidian (of course acting like he is doing them a big favour, when he actually just created that need), which Tommy bromptly refuses, later burning the obsidian.

Also Dream’s parting words here are: “I’ll see you never”. Which couldn’t be less true! There is quite a bit more after that, of Tommy and Ghostbur settling in, finding a ruined portal with some armour and the village nearby and Techno visiting, but this is about c!Dream and c!Tommy and it’s already incredibly long as is, so maybe I’ll talk about everything else another time...

Onto the next one: Tommy Is Alone in Exile with Dream...

This stream starts off with Bad visiting Tommy to give him a few presents (which consist of Chirp, 2 diamonds, an enderchest, and almost dead diamond pick with silk touch, some coocked chicken some bones and a few stacks of oak wood logs). Also Tommy sees Logsteshire for the first time. Then Dream arrives and he is not happy about the present (something something, having other people giving Tommy useful stuff would make him less reliant on Dream). Also Bad seems to be slightly scared of Dream since he immediately tells Tommy that he should not say that any of the stuff he gave him was from him. Anyway, Dream destroys everything, but Tommy, with Bad’s help, manages to save Chirp. Here’s their exchange in this scene of course:

“Tommy?” “Yes! Yes?!” “Do you have uh... something you wanna put on the floor here?” “Yes *throws in 3 red concrete blocks*” “Anything else Tommy?” “No! You’re evil by the way, you’re an evil man-” “Come on... I know there is something else you wanna drop down here...” “No there-... *gives disk to Bad* I don’t reckon there is!” “Okay are you sure...?” “Yes!” “Alright... how about uh- how about your armour Tommy?” “No this is- I actually earned this myself” “I know you did! Just drop it in the hole Tommy” “No, no! You can’t just come and demand things from me! I’ve been exiled, I’ve done your shit! What- what do you mean-” “Tommy~” “What?” *Dream hits Tommy with an enchanted netherite axe* “Drop them down~” “Hooooo okay okay okay!”

So, in case anyone was wondering, physical abuse is there as well. And this is fully depicted as physical abuse. Like, normally, with this being Minecraft, it is implied that violence is generally inconsequential, here though c!Tommy reacts to it clearly in pain and shock. There is no doubt there.

Sapnap arrives at this point as well. After that Dream makes it a point that Tommy cannot have the enderchast that Bad gave him because you can never have enough random arbitrary rules when kidnapping someone apparently!

“Why are you here? Why are you here? What- what could you- what could you possibly want more from me? You’ve tortured me-” “I’m just! I’m just... keeping an eye on you Tommy”

I’ve highlighted this because, considering the last time Dream was there he said he would never see Tommy again, Tommy’s confusion here is more then understandable. But of course Dream acts like it’s obvious that he would be there and that it’s necessary to make sure that Tommy is not “up to no good”. Also, another extremely important exchange:

“You’ve exiled me you stupid manipulative green bastard!” “Yeah I know! I know! And you know why I did that” “Yes? Yes?” “No, you know why” “Why?” “Because you don’t listen to me ever. You’re the only person who doesn’t ever listen to me (...) listen, you are like a little annoying bug in my room and it pisses me off so I take you and I put you outside and that’s what I did. And now I’m just making sure that you stay outside”

So... the bullshit about this being about George’s house is out of the window by the first proper exile stream. Also Dream goes in the ever increasing list of villains who, if annoyed enough, will reveal all their evil plans to the protagonist. Like Tommy screaches enough and Dream will immediately go in evil monologuing mode...

“So what do you actually want from me then?” “Well nothing, I’m just here to talk to you. Tommy, we’re still friends ok? Just because I exiled you doesn’t mean we’re not friends-” “Just because I killed your friends and family doesn’t mean we can’t be bros...” “Well, it’s true!”

Ok so, it’s confirmed that Dream would still go on with this “friendship” facade even if he killed Tubbo or Wilbur then. Also:

*Tommy sees a creeper* then in the most monotone tone ever: “Help me” Dream sprinting from the other side of the cave: “TOMMY!”. I love this scene and I love this two dumbasses (and I mean the cc’s here). Also, to go back to the serious stuff: once again Dream is the one killing every single mob around Tommy because he blew up all his means for defence. Also Bad and Sapnap are still there as well, but Dream is always the on interveening (mostly because he is the one following Tommy around more closely). I’ll have a few of the more interesting quotes here afterwards until the next interesting scene:

“If I had 8 legs I would fuck you all up” “Oooh, no you wouldn’t” (Dream de-valuing Tommy’s anger once again)

“Stop following me” “NO” “Well okay then...” (honestly this was just funny...)

“Can I call you Wilbur? Or is it Ghostbur...?” “You can call me whatever you like” (for those saying that Ghostbur not correcting Tommy was weird)

“Alright Wilbur, what do you need an enderchest for? I might make an exception but-” “We- we need it so that we can access our stuff from the old world, the old world” “But not to go back” “How would we be able to go back with an enderchest?” “Well I don’t know maybe there is stuff in there that’s... better” “Tommy do you have anything that could get you to go back? In the enderchest?” “A boat? What’d you mean?” “Yeah to be honest we just need wood to get back, it’s not really-”

Here we have Ghostbur poking holes in one of the new rules that Dream added that day. As a matter of fact, why would an enderchest be dangerous? Tommy mostly keeps sentimental stuff in there and a bit of iron. Still that’s the whole point: Dream is trying to get Tommy under his control so he needs to bring him to a point where he’ll listen to his orders even when they don’t make any actual sense. Also, btw, Dream doesn’t actually give them an enderchest after this exchange.

“Do you want to come with me Tommy? Do you want to come with me and visit the old library?” “No no no” “Yes! Yes please!” “No he wants to stay here with me” “I don’t. I definitely don’t” “He does! He’s just trying to be nice to you Wilbur. He’s trying to be nice to you” “I’m not Wilbur, I want to come with you” (way to gaslight an amnesiac ghost...)

“So how long is Tommy supposed to be here?” “Like a week?” “Oh, a week is not bad!” “*laughing* No he’s here forever” (Like goddamn, imagine if every minor griefing was punished with permanent exile!)

“M-maybe like- does Tommy gets like visitations? Like once every month he get’s to go to L’Manburg-” “No! No no no” “No visitation, huh?” “No visitation” (well, let’s thank Sapnap for trying...)

So, after this Tommy gets his plan to go through the Nether and find a quick way to and from L’Manburg to, perhaps, sneak in unnoticed at some points. Dream “allows” him here to go to the Nether (even though technically there is no reason why the exile would extend to there as well), so they get to work on fixing a ruined portal. “Did you know, I apparently blew up a nation and killed everyone” (thank God we have Ghostbur, he makes everything better). One thing I want to note though: at this point Tommy still kills the mobs attacking him when Dream is not stalking him and doing it for him, which is kind of nice. We are still at the first exile stream though...

“Can I go back for like an hour and see all my friends?” “No, they can come here though. I-I mean Tommy, I think- I think that someone could come here and visit you, but you can’t ever go back. Like I-I don’t have anything against people coming here and visiting you if they want to. They don’t HAVE to, but they can if they really want to” “Tommy think of it this way: whenever you’re in prison you can’t just go and visit your friends, but they can come and visit you” “They can come and visit you, yeah, that’s actually a very- that’s a perfect analogy”

I wonder why the best analogy for Tommy’s situation is not a f*cking exile analogy, but actual prison. Maybe because he is confined to one place, not allowed to keep any personal items and never allowed to go back? Also they actually get to Nether hub at this point and there is the famous scene with Tommy looking at the lava:

A curious thing about this scene (aside from being a clear indication of the beginning of Tommy’s depressive spiral) is both that Dream didn’t seem to particularly care about Tommy dying up until now (and in the future as well) as long as he is the one to kill him. Meaning that he seemed fine with it as long as he had control over it. And yet at the end there he agrees with Tommy’s statement of “it’s never my time to die” which kinda makes me think that Dream by this point was already entirely set on his idea of Tommy needing to be alive for Dream to control the whole server. Tommy and Dream head back to Logstedshire after this scene.

*Tommy looks at the lava while standing very close to the edge* “I’ll go back through just to... check and see” *Dream hits Tommy away from the edge* “Come on” *Tommy goes back to the edge and Dream pushes him away again, this time covering the hole* “It’s not your time to die yet Tommy” “It’s never my time to die” “That’s true”

“Home sweet home...” “Home sweet home. I think it’ll be good! People might visit you all the time, I mean, I can visit you! It’s- it’s actually fun to come here! It’s a little bit- it’s a change of scenery, you know?” “It’s not fun to be stuck here” “Well... you’re not ’stuck’ it’s your vacation home!” “Can I go back? I’m ready...” “No but you can leave this area, you can go somewhere else. This is just- like, I took you far away, you can go further if you want”

So, if anyone is wondering, this is not, in fact, Dream giving Tommy more freedom. Especially considering that when Tommy does leave Logstedshire later on Dream literally hunts him down, so no, that was never an option. What Dream is doing here is make himself sound benevolent by comparison by telling Tommy that the only other options he has are worse since they are even further away.

“I’m here for a good time, not for a long time” (more hints towards Tommy’s depressive spiral)

“Guys how do you know when it’s too much?” (and again)

“Can I go and see the tree?” “Tommy, you can’t go and see the tree” “Dream why don’t you let him just- it’s not in L’Manburg! Why don’t you let him just see the tree and then escort him back?”

Ghostbur my beloved, pointing out holes in Dream’s rules all the time. Something tells me that’s the reason why Dream tried to kill him later on...

Anyway! This concludes this first post because it’s... Oh fuck this is REALLY long.... welp! I’ll make the others in the next few days!

#dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #ghostbur #dream smp #exile arc #tw abuse #tw manipulation #c!dream critical #character analysis #relationship analysis #this was supposed to be just all the quotes of c!dream being an asshole during the exile arc #then I went 'how about I write a couple of my thoughts in as well?'#and mistakes were made...#long post #my post

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swinging-stars-from-satellites · 3 years

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idk how many people would even want to see this BUT i wanna yell about Leela and Brax so here's a list of all their scenes togethr/scenes pertainng to them that i can recall (pLEASE add on if i missed anything/ you have any additional thoughts!! i could talk about these two all day!)

right off the bat in Weapon of Choice when Leela is on the outskirts of the Citadel and Brax goes to bring her back (which is interesting in and of itself, bc usually i would imagine a chancellery guard would go do that so what made Brax decide to instead??), Leela kinda goes off at him bc she's hurting and instead of trying to actually explain what's going on Brax doesn't even try to argue he just says "we need you" which is great bc Leela has that instinctive desire to be needed and to help people and he's speaking right to that -- also as far as we know, this is Leela and Brax's first actual meeting in canon? it's implied that they know of each other, which makes sense, but it doesn't seem like they've ever directly interacted before: Brax seems almost slightly uncertain, and Leela is combative, but when he's gentle with her she's actually quite receptive

the literal next scene after that, where the OT4 is all in one room for the first time (they still kinda hate each other at this point but still !!!). Narvin explaining Gryben and being a real jerk about it and Leela (understandibly!) questions if Gryben is a prison world, and Brax (who to this point has been mostly quiet as Narvin and Romana brief Leela) jumps in to both clarify Narvin's previous xenophobic statements while also maintaining the inherent questionable/negative connotations

(btw it's actually pretty important to note that Romana self-edits herself a lot when talking to Leela, especially in the earlier seasons; you can actually hear her revising the things she says to put it in terms that she thinks Leela will better understand. and i mean she does it out of genuine consideration for her friend associate but it often comes across as varying levels of patronizing. Narvin also obviously "dumbs things down" when dealing with Leela early on, but like... Brax never does that on any level. the only difference i can tell in how he addresses Leela vs how he talks to anybody else is that he seems much more kind with her than almost anyone else???)

their conversation about the Matrix in The Inquiry: this is REALLY important (and if you've ever talked to me on ao3 i've probably gone off to you about it lol) because it's layered. they're talking about the Matrix but they're also not because in answering Leela's question Brax is making a very thinly veiled allegory (which he outright states a minute later) to Time Lord society/politicians/most importantly HIMSELF -- he's actually strangely open about his morals/beliefs in this scene and i'm living for it tbh -- and i find it very interesting that even though he does directly explain what he means ("how do you know all this?" / "because i am a politician.") he also leaves it for Leela to work out the implications. like it's a very nuanced conversation bc there's double meaning in it and most people on Gallifrey seem to think that Leela is tone-deaf and can't pick up on that stuff (even Romana sometimes oversimplifies things to her) but Brax totally just lets her take from it what she will bc he believes her intelligent enough to understand. he doesn't think her any lesser because she's human.

ALSO on a secondary note to the above: the fact that Leela has a question/needed clarification (sorry, haven't listened to this in a while i forget how it actually happened) and actively sought out Brax to talk to about it?? like she knows Romana better she could have gone to her but i feel like Leela kinda imprinted on Brax and someone she can go to for help if she needs it; maybe it's partly bc she knows he's under marginally less pressure than Romana is but also the truth of the matter is that Brax was the most genuinely helpful person to her in the previous stories and that probably means a lot to her (esp. bc he acts like the essence of everything she hates about Gallifrey but he doesn't treat her the way she would expect from that). btw this topic is gonna come up again in a hot minute

that part where Brax gives her that information that might help her re: the Andred thing, even though he really probably shouldn't have done that -- it kinda makes me think about what he must have been like with Theta tbh???

actually this is mostly my own conjecture but there's some neat stuff in Spirit bc during the *waves hand vaguely* bodyswap dream sequence thing, Romana is very "!!!! Brax can help us !!!" which is tecnically Leela brain talking, so like there's the implications of the stuff i've said above about Leela having this idea of Brax where she knows he's someone she can go to for help

can u tell i'm soft for them

Leela sounding really sad/distracted when she talks about how Brax isn't there YES i'm grasping at straws but a lot of this relationship really is conveyed through the voice acting bc of how little direct focus there is on the characters. there's actually several scenes in Mindbomb where she mentions him and she outright says that she misses him during her discussion with Matthias

that implied scene with them in Mindbomb!! i have a Lot of thoughts about that!!! it's all conjecture and fanfic fodder!!! but the reason i mention this is because it seems pretty meta that out of the whole Gally Gang, it's Leela who first sees Brax when he comes back to Gallifrey and in turn she's the first person (besides Matthias, i guess) that he sees upon his return?? idk i just feel like that's somehow a meaningful detail??? also her reaction of utter shock after spending the entire episode missing him and how worked up she is when she tries to tell Romana, like I desperately need to know what happened in this missing scene MR RICHARDS PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED

Leela insisting on going with Brax when Pandora starts hurting him and their whole conversation there is just. so good. like they're both just so soft and then when Darkel comes in Leela instantly goes into protective mode. like they just have such an open relationship bc Brax doesn't even try to be all pretentious with her, like he doesn't even try to keep up any facades when he's with her he's just very genuine and it really says a lot about both of them -- Leela is so good at seeing people, like getting down to the core of who people are and what makes them them (which is why she's good for Romana, btw, bc Romana has a lot of identity issues) and Brax is so tangled up in who he presents himself as that he barely knows who he actually is anymore but Leela can see that and she makes it so he can truly be himself and he doesn't have to hide. also she's so gentle with him when they talk about Pandora, she's very caring and empathetic and wants to make sure he's okay and i am WEAK

it's been a hot while since i listened to Panacea but I think i remember Brax being really soft with Leela when he first brings the gang to the Axis, like just sounding really glad to see her

ok other than the fact that Brax is lowkey relatable in Reborn (daydreaming fanfic about yourself/people you know? simping for Mary Tamm Romana? yeah mood, my man) there's that scene where they're first appraoching the Citadel on the alt!Gallifrey and it seems like none of them, and Brax specifically, have seen it from the outside in a good long while bc he's very in awe and he tells Leela that he wishes she could see it and he sounds sO hEcKiNg sOFT oh my word-

and once again with Leela thinking of Brax as someone she trusts for help: in Dissassembled when everything is going to crap she straight-up says that she wants to go find Brax bc he'll know what to do/be able to help

at the beginning of Annihilation when Romana is depressed and questioning if Brax truly was her friend and Leela INSTANTLY, NO HESITATION assures her that he was; i lost where i had her exact lines written down but she actually kinda goes off to make sure Romana gets the point

literally forcing myself to talk about this bc it makes my brain stall out but like,,, the Brax Hound in Annihilation,,, Leela being like "goodbye, Braxiatel... again" she sounds so sad and like UGH i always kinda forget how sad it actually is for them to lose Brax in Dissassembled bc like, it was so sudden and they didn't get to say goodbye and Leela is always losing people and i have many many feels about this scene and how all that emotion is made very clear in how they each respond to the Hound (might make a separate post abt this later if anyone is interested ::eyes::)

Enemy Lines is utter bullcrap about these two and I will never stop being salty about how they not only sidelined the very good, very subtle friendship they had in s1-4, but they??? made Leela acutally not trust Brax??? when literally this entire time she's been the one person who probably genuinely trusts him the most?? what the heck, David

I haven't heard TW3 or 4 yet but i'm assuming there's nothing worthwhile in those with regards to this duo (correct me if i'm wrong tho lol, i would love to be mistaken in this assumption)

TL;DR Leela and Brax mututally imprinted on each other and have probably the most open and healthy relationship within the OT4 and it is an absolute CRIME that nobody besides Gary Russell and Justin Richards cared enough to actually build on it in canon

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nocek · 3 years

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Don't spare us the long rant! We want to hear your thoughts!

Oh you are going to regret this ;P

So here goes my loooooooong angry rant about Taskmaster and also the Black Widow movie in general.

Let's start with my point of comparison. Captain America the Winter Soldier was a good movie. It's still in my top 3 Marvel movies as I'm sure is for many people. And statistically speaking everybody likes Bucky. He is like the most beloved side character right after Loki. I guess.

Anyway. My point is that Taskmaster and Winter Soldier have bit for bit the exact same building blocks: hypercompetent antagonist that is a serious threat to our hero who just can't win with in one on one combat. But then plot twist: our antagonist was just a victim and puppet without free will in hands of actual villain who is bland bureaucrat.

So why did Winter Soldier worked really really well and Taskmaster was just ehh.. ok?

Well the short answer is that catws was a much tighter movie that had clearer goal (and also that goal/theme was singular: good things get corrupted with time and sometimes you get to start over) compared to black widow which had to jump through too many hoops and still somehow managed it but it wasn't as graceful as it would be if they (as in executives) resigned from one or two hoops and flips and explosions.

And I'm omitting a BIG disadvantage of making a prequel movie about a character that they killed off in shitty way. Though that created one of extra hoops for them to jump through: quickly build up Yelena as a character.

And character build they did. Because srsly Yelena is awesome and I love her. BUT. That came at a price.

Lets compare to catws. The new character there is Sam (and kiiiiiiiinda also Natasha a bit but that's a topic for a different rant) who is nowhere near as well build as Yelena. At the beginning. Because he had time to be fleshed out and naturally grow in few different movies and then we got a deep dive in the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

But Marvel can't give Yelena few movies because she will appear in Hawkguy an Hawkeye series and also Marvel is generally dividing their assets into: outer spaaaace, down to earth heros and magic stuff (aliens, androids and wizards ;P). But also they can only create so many things in a year.

So yeah. Yelena offtopic can be summarized that I love that we have her as we have her but it came at a cost of air time of the movie.

So comparing the movies again:

Catws had the theme of good things being corrupted with time. And the theme was underlined 3 times through Peggy, Bucky and then Shield/Hydra. Which are interconnected and also make nice scale from inner conflict of the main character to the outer conflict of the movie.

In Black Widow there is the topic of the past evil that never went away and is still taking away free will from people. And again we have it shown through 3 outlets: Yelena, Taskmaster and Black Widows. But there is also whole family subplot attached to Yelena and there is Red Room attached to Black Widows. So as you can see things are getting crowded. Which in turn make the theme a bit blurry.

I mean, sure, the Red Room should be the Shield equivalent. Even it could take smaller space because good Shield turns out to be evil Hydra is generally more time consuming to explain than Red Room bad. But still combining Red Room and Black Widows make things a bit crowded.

(There is a reason why the surprise subplot of there is more Winter Soldiers was in separate movie and was kinda handwaved and cut to minimum. But they couldn't do that here).

But it's time to stop my ranting about whole Black Widow movie and focus on comparing Taskmaster and Winter Soldier.

Because to be honest both are bare bones of character and more of an carte blanche in the movie. Both have barely any screen time yet there are colossal difference which stems out of:

first introduction: as I mentioned they are hypercompetent and unstoppable threat that you can't win with, you can only hope to run away (both done equally well)

programmable killing machine:

For Taskmaster we just get a scene with her watching other heroes fighting at the screen. For the sake of building up the mystery of character we think that "he" is just watching. Maybe learning or more likely just being creepy. The information about the chip and literal programming is given to us much later in the movie which makes this scene lose the power. idk how it will work on rewatch? Maybe better? Hopefully. right now there is too many new movies in cinemas to go for a rewatch and disney+ still isn't available here -.-

For Bucky we have literal torture scene. You just can't be more blunt than that. It also hammered the next point in.

there is human behind the mask:

Winter Soldier is introduced with full face mask which he gradually loses and then we have the big reveal of not only: that's a human but also that's a human our main hero cares about deeply.

With Taskmaster they fucked up it for chap plot twist. We are learning quite late that oh snap that's Antonia (that we don't really care about) and our main hero kinda feels guilty about her.

I think the big difference is what kind of character Steve and Nat are and also the way they reveal this secret. Steve actively recognizes Bucky by himself and is very openly shocked. Nat is passively told and shown that hey, this is Antonia. And there is no time in the movie for Nat (and for us) to be shocked because that's the 3rd act and we need time for explosions and stuff.

Besides, the problem is that all the big plot twist reveals are boring on rewatch (stil big props for Pacific Rim and giving us the monster reveal in like second minute of the movie, I will never not appreciate that).

Also on related shitty note. We the audience. Bucky is handsome and vulnerable and we can drool all over him (and oh man, we the fandom did a fair share of drooling). Antonia is disfigured and not sexualized in any way. Which I'm actually grateful for but there is no pretending that doesn't make a hell lot of difference. But that's a whole different, ugly and big topic I'm not remotely qualified to write about. I'm just angry ranting here.

they don't have free will:

For Winter Soldier we have amnesia + torture tropes which to be honest have been done over and over again and it shouldn't have worked as well as it worked. Bit it did. In context of Black Widow movie it worked because it was just one guy that actively broke through brainwashing with active help of the hero.

In Black Widow there is a lot of characters that are pasively "woken up" out of mind control over and over again by active protagonist. Unfortunately the repetition kinda cheapens it. Especially in comparison to main gut punch right in the feels scene in the other movie. Which is why it's not fair to compare the two.

So lets talk about lack of free will aspect itself. To be honest the mind control aspect in Black Widow was done really great from story perspective. Evil scientists perfected it to the point it being (bit handwavey but) completely impersonal but also completely dehumanizing to the subject. So I'm buying that it can be completely switched off in equally efficient and impersonal way. Even the way they explained it with Alexei the pig was great and terrifying... to a point. Because then kicked the main problem with this movie. Clearly some execs came and saw it and went whoa... that's too dark for pg13 blockbuster. Let's put some cheap jokes here. And it happens over and over again in this movie :S

humanizing flashback scene that ties them to main hero:

For Bucky, sure we had Captain America First Avenger but a movie needs to stand on it's own legs. That's why we have the flashback scene which shows us that Bucky cared about Steve. Leaving it at the narration in Smithsonian of "best friends since childhood" would be just telling us. And we needed to be shown and we needed a space for the "till the end of line" so it could come back and stab us right in the feels.

Also because we are ignoring previous movie Russos cleverly made us care about Winter Soldier because Steve cares about Winter Soldier. And we already know and like Steve so building up our main character gives us more mileage out of new bare bones character (because let's be honest, Winter Soldier is just that). Two birds one stone thing.

In Black Widow there is no such thing which IMHO is the main reason Taskmaster doesn't work. We just get information about cardboard cutout: insert cute little girl here (only told, not even shown actual cardboard) and all of the emotional connection to Natasha is: I know that my boss that I hate has a daughter, she got in the crossfire. Which means nobody cares.

All it would take is adding a short flashback scene. idk Dreykov is an asshole and doesn't care about Antonia but she is she cutest and most adorable little girl. She treats the Black Widows as older sisters. Hell if you want to make it more horrorish copy of the idea of Thor wanting to be a Valkyrie when he grows up or T'challa wanting to be a Dora Milaje. Little Antonia wants to be Black Widow when she grows up because they are badass and they are nice to her (and are also slightly confused by her) because she is nice to them and is only person that treats them as humans. Hell we could have short interaction between her and Nat. Just a smile between them would be enough.

You could get a lot of character buildup mileage out of such a short scene.

But it couldn't happen partially because the movie didn't have time for that but we didn't get that mostly because it would show us instead of telling that Nat killed a cute little innocent girl for her own personal gain. (well she thought she was destroying Red Room but mostly wanted to get away - vide she didn't check on Yelena or other widows. But I wouldn't hold that against her. It was put your oxygen mask first kind of situation. But still it would make her look bad)

Besides, that would take guts to actually show.

And technically they could have afforded to have that guts. That was last movie with Nat anyway. It would actually make this plotline about her feeling guilty about Dreykov's daughter and red in her ledger work. But well... It was last movie so they wanted to leave us with the most goodest and bleeding hartest and heartwarming mary sue version of Nat with just telling us without showing hey, she got dark past.

On the other hand if we had the rumored Endgame plotline of Nat running an orphanage. Damn that would tie to this plotline so well. We could tie the loose widows also. Dam we were robbed here I tell ya >.<

Ok I'm overdoing offtopic about Nat. Sorry

design

So yeah. Design wise Winter Soldier is like great. For Taskmaster, she sure looks cool but also kinda generic? If in 10 years you'd show me her and say it's antagonist from GI Joe or something I'll believe you :S (not touching the debate that in comics something something because unfortunately I don't know Taskmaster from comics. Although I hear that few recent ones were quite good so I'll check them out sooner or later)

snapping out of mind control

I mentioned before. It would be unfair and there is no point comparing main emotional scene of the movie versus means to an end that were repeated several times through a movie.

Natasha freeing Antonia even if she thought that Antonia will kill her because that would fair was great. What I'm annoyed is a cheap fakeout that went with that. It was just after the bombastic finale with explosions and all the cgi shit. Even without looking at the movie runtime it was obvious there will be no extra fight scene.

In catws it worked because the cgi pew pew extravaganza was a background noise and was part of a continuous fight. In BW helicarriers fell already, there was a second of dust settling and then Nat throws away the shield (uses that capsule). Tension just fell from highest place in a movie (quite literally lol), trying to rise it again for such a short moment just doesn't work.

But that's the general problem with Marvel movies. Bombastic CGI fest as grand finale that probably is "outsourced" and then actual director comes back and needs to end movie super quickly.

disappearing act at the end

So in catws there is mystery of what will Bucky do. We are given some hope since he dragged Steve out of river and visited the museum but thats all. I mean there is this annoying Marvel thing of skipping over the interesting ending of last movie and starting with next plot point. We were hoping for the grand roadtrip/hunt for Bucky but nope. We must run ahead with all the plotlines (same way I'm sure that the Spiderman is Peter Parker and he killed a guy thing will be already dealt with in the beginning of the next movie -.-) But that's bonus mini rant.

In BW they needed to wrap up to many plot lines too quickly so Antonia wakes up and that's all. We don't get a suggestion what she may do. The problem of the chip she still has installed is omitted. There is nothing. She just fucks off to lalaland with other Black Widows the end. Because we needed ending for Nat's actual family which was ok but also kinda rushed.

As I mentioned waaaay before (god, this rant is pretty long) too many hoops to jump through.

Which really sucks because if they added that one flashback scene just for Antonia and spared few more minutes for the overall ending it would work so much more better.

And I even know where they could have saved few minutes (besides the explosions thingies). The supply guy. One extra character in a movie with too many characters. In catws the supply problem (with wings) was solved with nbd shrug. If you wanted to show that Nat has her own web of contacts it should be more than one guy. IDK in Budapest there could be 10 second scene with neighbor saying hi nice to see you again we reinforced the walls after last time. In Norway we could see her visiting some special secret supply stash run by some rando before getting to the mobile home.

But oh she was on the run so that would be too many people. Then cut the people entirely. The shitty helicopter can be worked around with joke that I'm not on speaking terms with Stark rn and that's the best we can have on short notice.

Eh.. side rant again. Sorry.

So to wrap it up. I actually really would love to see what will happen with the loose Black Widows and Antonia because here they were really underdeveloped. And while widows were more of a group hero and we have Yelena as a representative so in a way it balances out but Taskmaster needed so little extra care to make her character so much better and I'm a tiiiiiiny bit salty about it.

#text post #long post #very long rant #black widow #black widow spoilers #black widow movie #black widow 2021 #taskmaster #antonia dreykov #i kinda doubt we will see her again #but one can hope #if anyone actually read through all of this congratz!#and thank you #let me hug you #(and I'm sorry it's so long)

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fics-of-my-mind · 3 years

Text

Trust - Chapter XIV.

'Patience, Dear,' Nick chuckled, but his voice was much deeper than before, full of desire.

'I need you- I-,'

'And you'll get me. But no rush. I plan on savoring every moment of this night given that I've been waiting for so long.'

'Nick-'

'There is one rule, though, that I want you to keep tonight,' he continued, dismissing my desperation, his tongue drawing circles on my skin, just above the line of my panties between every word, while his hands were caressing my behind and my thighs.

I was kind of in awe of him for being able to keep his cool, even though he must've been just as desperate as I was. Even in this state he treasured the control he had over me, and wouldn't give it up for anything.

'What?' I groaned, not feeling the mood to keep up with his rules, not tonight, not right before I actually had the chance to have him fully.

'No holding back,' he announced, then he started sucking on my skin. I felt like I was going to explode right away. He was so close to where I wanted him the most, his fingers making their way up to the white lace, hoovering just above my most sensitive part, yet he wouldn't give it to me, not yet. 'I want you to come as many times as you can.'

Warnings: mature content, BDSM content Pairing: Nick Jonas / Other Female Character This fanfiction can also be found on Wattpad by fnntth

I don’t own Nick Jonas or any other recognizable characters. This fanfiction is completely fictional, its only purpose is entertainment.

Chapter XIV. - Oh I'm not playing any games tonight

It didn't really take me long to forget everything that happened in the bathroom. Two gin and tonics later, when Nick found me, the moment he placed his hand on my waist, guiding me towards the entrance, my mind was once again only concentrated on him, and the wetness between my legs.

Maybe Demi was right and he was going to break my heart, but I didn't care at the moment, not at all. The only thing on my mind was that this is it, we were finally going to sleep together.

After gathering our phones, we got into a black car, and started heading somewhere, I guessed that my apartment. Nick was holding onto my hand through the whole ride, but he didn't look at me, keeping his glance on the outside world. I'm sure that it was only to drive me even crazier.

I just wasn't able to calm down. My mind, my body, my whole being was constantly focused on him and nothing else. The way his fingers skinned my hand, the fact that he was extremely close, the dirty thoughts about wanting to hop onto his lap... it was all too much.

'We should talk about a few... technical things,' Nick announced unexpectedly somewhere midway.

'Now?' I asked, raising my eyebrow. I did not want to talk, not now, not so close to finally doing what I've only been dreaming about so far.

'Now,' he nodded, his handsome face strict and serious. 'The minute we are behind closed doors... I don't think I'm going to be able to keep my hands off you for a second.' I swallowed, looking at him, my insides warming just from the promise in his voice.

'What do you want to talk about?' I asked, swallowing, as Nick took one of my hands in his.

'When things get intense - not specifically tonight, but whenever,' he started, lowering his voice so the driver couldn't hear it. 'I want you to have a safe word. Have you thought about that?'

'Yes,' I nodded immediately. We've touched on the topic a few days ago, Nick just out of nowhere telling me to start thinking about a safe word that I'm comfortable using. It was surprisingly challenging. 'I did come up with a word that I think is great.'

'What is it?' Nick asked, his voice full of interest.

'Light,' I said, biting my lip. 'Your first words to me back in Barcelona were 'Do you need light?', and it's just-'

'It's perfect,' he nodded, his eyes darkening a bit. 'Whenever you don't feel comfortable with what's happening, even if it's just a slight discomfort, I want you to use that word and I stop immediately, okay? No hard feelings, no consequences, we'll just stop. Promise me that you'll use it when you need it, Milla.'

'I promise,' I nodded, looking deeply into Nick's eyes, even though I was sure I'd avoid using that word for however long I could. I just didn't want to say it, I trusted Nick that he won't do anything I'd feel uncomfortable with.

'Now the other thing,' he started, still holding my hand. 'Protection. I know that you haven't been sexually active lately, so I guess-'

'When I first saw you in the club,' I started, cutting into his words. I could feel the redness making its way onto my cheeks, and I had to turn my eyes away from him. I don't know why I felt embarrassed about this, but I did. 'I went and got a prescription. I've been on the pill for the last few weeks.'

'Oh.' Was all Nick said at first, but he raised his free hand to my cheek, making our eyes connect once again. His dark brown orbs were glistering in the semi-darkness as he looked at me. 'Why?'

'I don't know-, I guess just the idea of us being in the same city and having a bigger chance at this happening,' I started, gesturing between us with my fingers. 'I just hated the idea of if it ever comes to sex, there would still have to be a little piece of rubber keeping us apart.'

My whole face was flushed at this point, but as much as I wanted to turn my glance away, Nick wouldn't let me.

'You know I'm usually a 'no glove, no fun' guy... But honestly, it was making me feel crazy, the thought of not being able to fully feel you around me,' he said, chuckling a little. 'So I adore you for thinking ahead.'

He pulled me closer, connecting our lips, but not deepening the kiss this time.

The rest of the car ride went like a blur.

I was pretty surprised when about twenty minutes later the car stopped somewhere in Downtown LA, in front of a pretty tall apartment building.

'Where are we?' I asked Nick.

'Joe and I used to live here together. Never sold the apartment, we kept it for occasions when, for example we were too drunk to make our way home, or we needed some alone time. In the past few years we only used it for writing,' he explained before getting out of the car and holding the door open for me.

I didn't even remember the ride upstairs, all I could concentrate on was Nick's hand laced through mine. We were in public – at least public enough that a bunch of people could see us, including the doorman and a few residents – yet Nick wouldn't let me go, not even when I tried pulling away when a woman stepped into the elevator with us.

He knew I was frustrated and he was enjoying it way too much, the smirk on his face told me. Little fucker, I didn't know what his game was.

The apartment was beautiful, I found myself in complete awe. It wasn't unnecessarily big, like most A-list celeb's properties, the living area had huge floor to ceiling windows with a view to downtown LA, there was a comfortable looking white couch in the middle and also a beautiful piano, something I'm sure Nick spent a lot of time with.

Black and white dominated in the place, both in furniture and accessories. There was a huge dining table separating the living area from the kitchen, which was also beautiful, with black build-in counters. Nick didn't turn on the light, only the built-in fireplace, so the whole room was in semi-darkness. Still, it was beautiful.

Not even looking back to see if Nick was following me, I walked to the huge windows, the view taking my breath away. It was like one of those apartments that I've only seen in movies before, since in my country skyscrapers and floor to ceiling windows in apartment buildings weren't really a thing.

'So beautiful,' I said, taking in all of the lights of the city, the traffic, the moon.

'Yes, it is,' Nick replied, standing a few steps behind me. I could feel his gaze on the back of my head, and something told me, he wasn't necessarily talking about the city lights.

I took a deep breath before turning around and finally facing him. Nick's eyes were darker than usual, almost black as they glistered in the semi-darkness of the room. There wasn't much light, only the moon and the lights of the city brightened somewhat the otherwise dark apartment.

Nick looked amazing, the semi-darkness giving his handsome face a rough edge, making him all mysterious. His lips were inviting as they slightly parted, and I could barely look away from them.

This was it.

The way his intense gaze imprisoned mine, it made my breath get caught in my throat. Thousands of emotions filled my heart as his darkened orbs slid to my lips for a moment, then back to my eyes. The minute of longing for each other seemed extremely long, yet equally exciting and arousing. Then, Nick got bored of just looking and finally closed the distance between us.

This kiss was not a bit gentle or innocent. Everything was in it: the months of waiting, of not crossing the line, to the freedom of us finally being able to do whatever we wanted to do with each other. The extremely deep feelings we've grown for each other, the need of touching, of owning the other, the hunger that would've eaten us if we had to wait any longer.

Nick's fingers pushed into the skin of my waist roughly, definitely leaving a mark, which just made me pull him closer by the back of his head even harder. He didn't really ask for permission with his tongue, not that he had to, he could do whatever he pleased with me. He was everywhere, his unique minty scent in my nose, his sweet taste in my mouth, his hands all around my body: on my waist, ass, thighs, hair.

Finally being this close to him, I couldn't hold myself back. It's been a long while since I've had sex in the first place, and it seemed like an eternity since I've been longing for him. My hands tried gripping onto his hair, pulling on it not a bit gently as Nick let me catch my breath and let go of my lips, yet started pampering my neck with kisses.

I couldn't hold back a moan, when he started sucking on the thin skin of my neck, just above my vein, my nails digging into his upper arm when he bit down, definitely marking me with bruises. It was all so sexy.

I was the first one to start to undress him, as I pushed the material of his jacket off his shoulders. I needed to feel Nick, I needed his skin on mine. My fingers were trembling from the desire, but I only got to unbutton two of the buttons on his shirt when he pushed my hands away. I looked at Nick with a confused expression on my face, but he didn't feel the need to say anything. He unzipped my dress without ever turning me around or even looking, his lips making their way to my shoulders which gave me massive goosebumps.

When he smoothed my dress to the ground, he pulled away a bit, eyeing my body up and down, his eyes engorging a bit as he took in my white, lacy bra and panties set. I choose this on purpose, the memory of our talk about lingerie was still vividly in my head. His eyes were full of lust, and he ran his hands from my waist to the side of my chest, his palms resting on my ribcage on both sides, while his fingers grazing the lace of the white bra.

'I'm truly intrigued,' Nick mumbled, still not turning his gaze away from my body. The feeling of being shy or embarrassed didn't find me this time, and I didn't even flinch when he pulled me closer so our lower bodies were touching and I could definitely feel his excitement against my abdomen. 'So pure. And all for me.'

I swallowed, suddenly feeling the urge of proving him that I'm not that innocent. Unexperienced, sure, but innocent? No. Nick, the Nick in his right mind knew this, but this Nick, the man of lust didn't care. He saw me as pure, which made me feel slight embarrassment and extreme happiness at the same time, I couldn't perfectly describe it.

Running a hand to his chin, I made him look into my eyes, and felt myself become even more overwhelmed by all of the things I felt and that I saw in Nick's dark orbs. This time I was the one to connect our lips, kissing him heatedly, while my fingers returned to unbuttoning his shirt and finally succeeding. When our hot skin finally touched, Nick groaned and I softly bit his lower lip. I could feel his smirk, but didn't say anything, just ran my fingers down to his chest and back, exploring every inch of him.

Suddenly it wasn't enough. I needed Nick, wanted him so hard that I've never felt anything like this in my whole life. The kiss grew much more desperate as there was even less keeping our parts from touching. Just as I slipped my fingers into the buckle of his leather belt, Nick pushed my hands away once more.

'Nick,' I moaned into his mouth. Nick just smirked, holding my wrists in one hand, while unclasping my bra with the other. He kissed down from my lips along the side of my neck to my breasts, running his tongue down between them. When his lips found my left nipple, I moaned, my body arching against him. His hand never left my right breast, playing with my nipple, pulling it, squeezing it. The tingling between my legs was getting worse, I could feel myself dripping. I needed Nick not to just play with my body, but finally touch me where I wanted him the most.

He pushed me against the huge floor to ceiling window, his lips never leaving my chest area. The cold of the glass and the hotness of our bodies made me shiver - or was it the sea of emotions making goosebumps reappear on my skin? Nick continued his journey, his lips kissing downwards from my breasts, along my stomach, as he lowered himself onto his knees.

Seeing Nick kneeling in front of me, looking up cheekily, with a very promising glance made me want to crawl out of my skin. I felt like nothing was enough, not until we were fully united, until there was nothing between us. I groaned, my hands running into his hair as Nick carefully lifted each of my legs and made me step out of the heels I didn't even remember were still on.

I felt such love for him, I almost said it out loud, even though my mind successfully stopped me. I couldn't say it, not yet anyways. There was this pride in me, wanting to hear him say it first.

When he broke our gaze and softly kissed my abdomen, I moaned quite loudly.

'Patience, Dear,' Nick chuckled, but his voice was much deeper than before, full of desire.

'I need you- I-,'

'And you'll get me. But no rush. I plan on savoring every moment of this night given that I've been waiting for so long.'

'Nick-'

'What?' I groaned, not feeling the mood to keep up with his rules, not tonight, not right before I actually had the chance to have him fully.

Before I had the chance to react, his fingers finally pushed against me, touching me through the panties. I knew he could feel how ready I already was for him, the smug smirk on his face spoke for itself. I felt myself go crazy, the sensations of Nick's fingers moving against my panties, creating friction. If the window wasn't pressed against my back, I'm sure that my legs would've given out. I tried to move my hips, so his fingers would press harder, but Nick's other hand found my waist and pushed my body back, keeping me in place with force. I moaned desperately. His lips lowered, avoiding the textile and founding their way to my thighs, kissing them, biting them.

I moaned his name as he lifted one of my legs, placing it on his shoulder, so he could continue his sweet torture on the sensitive inner thighs, meanwhile his fingers were still pressed lightly against my lady parts. Nick wasn't gentle, and I didn't want him to be. When he started sucking harshly on the thin skin of my thighs, marking me there, I felt myself lose my mind completely. I couldn't concentrate on anything else, but the need for him. I was squirming against him, trying to get out of his hold and pressing my body against him harder, but Nick was much stronger, as he kept me from moving around too much.

It seemed like an eternity later when he finally made his way upwards and kissed me through the lingerie, one of his hands making its way to my ass and pulling me towards his face, while the other still pushing on my waist and keeping me from moving too much. I suddenly started regretting the white underwear, Nick seemed to like it way too much, and he still wasn't taking it off of me. I desperately wanted it gone, I wanted to feel his lips directly against my clit.

He did kiss me at least. As his tongue pushed against my panties, tasting me through the lacy material, I needed to take one hand from his hair and use it to keep my stance, trying to find a grip on the glass behind me.

'So sweet,' he mumbled, not moving his head from my sensitive parts, so his words were creating vibrations, making me shiver.

'Nick, please,' I moaned, when he started sucking on my clit hardly. I was a mess, in my right mind I probably would've felt embarrassed, but now I didn't care. The only thing on my mind was Nick and how much I wanted him.

'Since you asked so nicely', he said, and pulled his hand from my behind, moving the thong to the side without taking it off. His hungry lips found my clit immediately, and I'm pretty sure I screamed from the sensation. I was so close. 'So fucking ready for me already,' Nick groaned as he ran a finger along my slit, now feeling my pooling wetness directly. When he inserted a finger into me, I felt my walls clench around him, the feeling of a man touching me last time only being a faded memory for my senses. As his lips returned to my clit and his tongue started drawing circles on it, I could feel myself relax, and clearly so did Nick, since he started rhythmically moving his finger in and out. When he inserted another finger, I saw stars. All the sensations, his fingers moving in and out of me, getting me ready for him, his tongue lapping against my wetness, his lips occasionally sucking on my clit, brought me so close to the edge, that when Nick - very intentionally - curled his fingers inside me, making me feel things I've never really felt before, I exploded.

I don't think I ever had an orgasm so intense. Maybe it was all the waiting, or the fact that it was Nick, pushing me to the land of bliss, maybe just the length of time it's been since I've had any kind of sex with another man... I felt like it lasted for at least two minutes. Nick let me ride every last wave of my orgasm, never pulling away, letting me come down while lapping my juices with his tongue. When eventually he did pull away, my wetness was all evident on his face, and he never looked hotter. I carefully removed my leg from his shoulder, and pulled him up to me by the back of his hair. His hands snaked around my waist as he kissed me, making me taste myself on his lips. His tongue made its way into my mouth, dancing with mine as I ran my fingers through the back of his hair.

'You're so fucking beautiful,' he mumbled against my lips when pulling away to catch his breath. As I came to my senses, I suddenly realized that Nick was still wearing his jeans, and by the hardness pressing against my abdomen, I'm sure it couldn't be comfortable for him.

I ran a hand down to his back, feeling his muscles clench under my fingers, which made me feel hot again instantly. My other hand made his way down his chest, finding his half-undone belt and successfully finishing the job. My lips moved down along his chin, finding his neck, and running my tongue along it. I needed to use both of my hands to unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down, but when I finally did it, Nick sighed in relief. Without taking it off, I dipped one of my hands in his Calvin Klein boxers, and closed my fingers around his manhood.

He was rock hard and honestly I had no idea how he was still in control of everything. I felt the veins on his shaft throbbing against my palm. I needed to taste him, but as soon as I started lowering myself to the ground, Nick's strong hands caught me by the elbow and stopped me from moving.

'I want to taste you,' I whined pulling my lips from his body so I could look him in the eyes, his cock in my mouth being the main thing on my mind. I told him before how much I liked giving blowjobs, he knew well that I didn't just want to do it because I thought of it as an expectation from me.

'I know, and believe me, I really want your sweet little mouth around me too,' he nodded swallowing as he lowered his gaze to my lips. 'But I also want this to last pretty long and that's just not going to happen with you sucking my dick like a good little whore.' I looked at him for a moment, a little bit taken aback by the rawness of words. I never thought I was one for dirty talk, yet as Nick pronounced the words, they did not feel that dirty at all. They were just something that made the wetness start pooling between my legs once again. Nick waited patiently for my reaction to his words, but when I wasn't cringing or grimacing, he seemed pretty satisfied with himself. I had no idea how he had this restraint, how he wasn't going crazy yet. 'Later, I promise.'

I nodded without thinking, not really seeing a point in arguing with him on this. Instead, I connected our lips again, as Nick took his pants and underwear off, letting it fall on the floor to the pool of our clothes. However, I did not remove my hand from his hard shaft, running it along his length, until the moment he swatted it away after moaning in my mouth.

'Jump.' As much as I felt like opposing, I wasn't in the state to deny anything from Nick, so I just jumped, our naked parts finally pushing against each other, though not in the way I really-really wanted them to.

Walking into one of the bedrooms, he laid me down to the huge bed, our lips not leaving each other for a second. Nick was the only thing on my mind, just like he wanted to be. All I could think about was the heat radiating from his body, the feeling of his stubble under my fingertips, the hairs of his thigh tickling my smooth skin. The need for him stronger and stronger in my lower region. And the way he touched me so possessively, yet so gently that made my heart throb for him even more.

He lowered me onto the bed gently, then while he was kneeling on the mattress, pulled back, looking down onto me, examining every part of my body. I should've felt insecure, or awkward, yet I didn't even try to cover up my not so beautiful parts.

It was like my subconscious trusted Nick so much that it didn't see the need to feel shame at all. Like I was giving myself to him fully, completely on a whole new physical and psychological level.

Nick's dark orbs ran along my body, exploring every inch, every curve. He wasn't touching me at all, yet I felt like he was crawling inside of me. As much as I used to hate certain parts, like the lines on my sides or my way too wide thighs, even my larger than normal breasts, as Nick's eyes were glistering with lust while examining them, I instantly found myself growing a newfound liking for those parts.

I tried to read his eyes as he was towering over me, they were quite talkative. They were full of lust, need, contempt, and a few other emotions that I couldn't put my finger on.

I mirrored his actions, looking down on his body that I still found amazing. He was exactly like I've wanted my man muscular but not too much, hairy but not too much.

'Nick...' I moaned, suddenly reminded of my need for him as his eyes dropped to between my legs. Nick shook his head, like he was shaken out of trans, then he immediately leaned down above me, connecting our lips once again.

I kissed him hungrily, my hands crawling onto his shoulder muscles, pulling him as close as possible. Meanwhile he pushed one of his thighs upwards, rubbing it against my heat and making me immediately moan against his lips. He made me feel such lust and need that I've never felt before. My skin was burning everywhere we touched and every other part of me felt cold compared to it. I was going crazy, not being able to concentrate on anything else but him, his body pushed against mine, his hand on my breast, his lips sucking on the skin of my neck.

I wanted him inside of me, needed him inside of me. He was right, these past weeks made me even crazier, my longing for him got worse, all I could concentrate was the things he was doing to my body and mind.

My breath got caught in my throat as Nick rubbed his thigh against my sensitive parts even harder. I was sure that my wetness was all over him, not that he seemed to mind it at all. As I unintentionally pushed my nails into his muscular back, scratching his skin, Nick groaned, biting my neck just above my vein, making me gasp.

'Hands above your head,' he said, and the authority was evident in his voice even in his current state. As much as I hated letting go of him, I did exactly as he commanded, raising both of my hands above my head and trying to find a hold on the silk sheets.

Nick seemed satisfied as he returned to sucking onto my neck and making me moan in need for him. I could feel the smirk ok his face as he kissed down to my chest, replacing his hand on my hard nipple with his lips. As his teeth grazed the sensitive buds, I felt like I was going crazy.

I was a moaning mess by that point, and I was grateful that nobody but Nick could hear me. As his fingers pushed against my clit again, my body tensed against him and I couldn't stop my hands from finding their way into his hair again.

'Milla,' Nick groaned and pulled away from my breasts, raising his glance to mine. His eyes were clouded, darker than usual, and his expression was clearly unimpressed with my misdemeanor. 'Behave.'

'I can't, I need you,' I whined, not making any effort to remove my hands from his hair. I was hungry for him, for every touch and his now still fingers on my most sensitive part didn't really help. I instinctively ground against him, trying to create some friction to ease my need.

Nick was not happy, his expression was strict and he instantly removed his fingers from between my legs. The desperate whine got caught in my throat in the next moment at the unexpected slap on my ass - a part that he had great access to given that my leg was wrapped around his torso.

I was a bit shocked, my face turned into a frown, but as the sweet burning sensation took over the place of the painful sting, I found myself wanting more. It was turning me on - even though I didn't think that there was more place for me to be turned on. Nick carefully examined my face, waiting for my reaction, but when I reached up to him and reconnected our lips, I could feel him relax against me.

Kissing Nick was like finding myself in a completely different world, where nothing existed but the softness of his lips, his stubble grazing my face and his sweet taste on my tongue. It was easy to forget about everything else and just pulling him as close to me as possible.

I was reminded of his feelings about my disobedience with another sting on my behind, this one even harder than the previous one, making me moan into his mouth.

'Don't make me tie those hands,' he groaned, his voice raspy, full with passion. The next moment he removed my hands from his hair, and held them above my head, this time not letting them go.

'Please Nick,' I moaned, feeling his erection press against my abdomen. I physically didn't feel able to hold on much longer, every inch of my body was burning, and the need concentrated in my core.

Nobody has ever made me feel like this, such a mess, so hungry for pleasure. I really felt like I was going to explode in seconds from all of the feelings, especially if Nick kept on torturing me any longer.

'Please what?' he asked, pulling a bit back, only to be able to look into my eyes. He was enjoying this, I could tell, even if he was just as hungry for me as I was for him.

'I need you,' I moaned, not impressed with our current situation. I tensed against him, as Nick was holding my wrists strongly above my head I wasn't able to touch him. One of my legs was still wrapped around his torso though, but tightening that hold only meant that his hardness would press harder against my abdomen - so close yet so far from where I wanted him to be.

'You need me where?' he asked, and I hated that he was still able to hold onto the control. Nick was enjoying this way too much, he was making me say it out loud.

'Inside of me,' I said, squirming under him, my hard nipples pushing against his chest. 'Please- please fuck me.'

I didn't even care that I was begging to be fucked like a whore. I just needed him and I couldn't think of anything else. The only things I could concentrate was the burn between my legs, his firm hold on my wrists, his chest hairs tickling my breasts and his hard erection pushing against me.

Nick rearranged his pose, so he was keeping my wrists in their place by holding them both in one hand and pulled away with his whole body slightly. Just as I was about to complain, I felt his erection against my clit and I forgot to breathe for a moment.

I raised my head, trying to see our lower parts. Nick didn't push in yet, he was keeping his manhood pushed against my throbbing core, moving it along my slit, making my lower body instinctively squirm against him. He seemed so big against me.

I've seen Nick naked before, I knew that he was blessed with a relatively big size, but somehow it never even crossed my mind that I will need to be able to take his size inside of me. Not that I was worried at all, I was sure that I was so wet and so ready for him that it wouldn't really be a problem. Still, seeing him push against me, making me even more crazy than before, I was just a tiny bit afraid of the pain.

'Eyes on me, Kamilla,' he ordered and I dropped my head back on the mattress, reconnecting our glances. By that point my body was squirming constantly and I couldn't stop myself from fidgeting. 'I want to see you when I take you.'

It was so incredibly hot, his raspy voice, the way he was still in control of not just himself but me too. His eyes were cloudy, and it took a moment for me to recognize the emotion in them: primal thirst. Even though it wasn't possible, I wanted him even more.

'Nick–' I started when he still wouldn't quit teasing, but then a loud moan slipped out of my mouth the moment I felt the stretch as he finally pushed in. I wanted to close my eyes, just until I adjusted, but his gaze held mine captive as he pulled out, then pushed back in again, much deeper this time. My lips parted as my body tensed at the long-felt feeling.

It was like my body didn't know what to feel, so I felt everything at once. The stretching feeling was quite uncomfortable given that it's been a long while since I've had sex, and thanks to Nick's massive size, I'd say that it was even painful at first. At the same time every inch of my body was on fire, I was hungry for him and I wanted him even deeper. I was so close to coming, but still so far, it didn't make sense at all.

I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from wincing as Nick pulled out for the second time, only to fill me up completely a second later. An animalistic groan escaped him, I imagine everything must've been so tight for him. Even though he was waiting for this for months now, and he was just as gone, wanting to come as I was, he stayed completely still.

'Shhh,' he hushed when he felt my body tense against him and placed his free hand onto my waist, drawing small circles on my skin. He leaned his forehead against mine, still looking so deeply into my eyes that I felt like he could see into my soul. 'Are you okay?' he asked, sincerely, and I was sure that if I told him 'no', he'd pull out and wouldn't blame me for a moment, even if it physically pained him.

'Move,' I asked quietly, because even though I was in some pain, the lust for him was much bigger. Nick kept my gaze for a few moments longer, his fingers never stopping their calming movement on my hip. I pulled him closer with my leg still wrapped around his waist, encouraging him to move. He closed the distance between us, connecting our lips and only when I kissed him back hungrily did he start moving.

The first few thrusts were quite painful, but as I grew accustomed to his size stretching me so deeply, the ache for him was back. When his fingers slipped down to my clit from my waist, I couldn't even remember the pain anymore. He knew exactly what he was doing, I was so close to coming that I had to hold myself back.

'Stop doing that.' Of course, he noticed, and that's when I remembered tonight's rule: to come as many times as possible. 'Let go,' he commanded and with the next, particularly deep thrust and his fingers still circling with my clit, I was gone.

I exploded against him, and I could feel my walls pulsing around his manhood, making Nick groan and drop his head to the crook of my neck. I saw stars, I was coming so hard that I even forgot to breathe. Nick never slowed down, he kept his rhythm and let me ride my orgasm out completely, while he – not so softly – bit the side of my shoulder.

'Fuck,' I moaned at the sharp pain, but Nick was way past the state to care. He was marking me as his, and even though I was sure I'd have some difficulties in the next few days to cover up all the marks, they were a huge turn on for me.

The next moment Nick pulled out of me, only to turn me slightly on my side and reenter me again, making me scream at the sensation. He felt even bigger this way, stretching me all the way.

'So fucking deep,' he groaned, one of his hands still holding my wrists in their place, while the other pushing into my thigh to keep me in the pose he wanted. He was close, I could tell. Sweat was beading on his forehead, he was getting a bit sloppy. All that could be heard in the room were my moans, his animalistic groans and our skins slapping against each other.

He took a hard rhythm, not soft at all and he wasn't slowing down. I was whimpering, my lady parts still sensitive from my orgasm, but Nick's rhythmical thrusts made me want even more. Somehow I managed to free my hand, but the moment I touched his upper arm, I was greeted with a sharp sting of his palm against my ass.

The feeling was even more intense with him inside of me, and Nick must've noticed my walls contracting around his shaft as well. He didn't try to get my hand back into its place, rather he spanked me a few more times, getting me close to coming again.

'Nick, I–' I moaned, turning my face so I could kiss him again. He felt it too.

'With me,' he groaned and with the last of his stamina, he sped his thrusts up even more, sending me over the edge a third time that night and following me a moment later with a deep grunt.

I felt him twitching and then filling me up with his everything, which was an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome sensation. With a last thrust Nick collapsed above me, laying his weight on my body completely.

I felt owned. I shouldn't have enjoyed it, I shouldn't have felt good about being marked, about Nick coming inside of me. In my life, I've always been an independent woman, but with him everything was different. The bite marks on my neck, the hickeys on my chest, the palm prints on my ass, the semen running down my legs... It all should've repulsed me, yet they just made me want Nick even more.

It took him a few minutes to gather himself and pull out of me, leaving me feeling empty. He didn't go far though, only to get a cloth and clean us both up a little. Then he laid back beside me and pulled me onto his chest.

'I get it now,' I mumbled against his chest as he ran a hand through my hair.

'Get what, Dear?' he asked quietly. I turned my head to be able to look at his face.

'This is what it's supposed to feel like,' I explained, referring back to one of our old conversations when Nick said that I clearly have never had great sex or I'd know what I'm missing.

'Actually, no,' he shook his head softly. 'This isn't what it's supposed to feel like.'

'What do you mean?' I frowned.

'This was... I never felt anything like this,' Nick admitted. I looked at him for a long moment, then leaned closer in order to connect our lips. So it wasn't just me. 'I don't know what this was, but you and me...' he left the end of the sentence hanging. I could finish it in my head just fine.

...were made for each other.

#Nick Jonas #nick jonas fanfiction #nick jonas fic #nick jonas imagine #nick x reader #jonas brothers fanfiction #jonas brothers imagine #fanfiction

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secretshinigami · 3 years

Text

making the most of it

Author: @realtruesuccessor For: @yagami-raito-kun Pairings/Characters: Near | Nate River/Yagami Light, background Linda/Matsuda, Near | Nate River, Yagami Light, Linda (Death Note), Matsuda Touta, Watari Rating/Warnings: Teen and Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, just typical superhero/action movie stuff Prompt: Near is a superhero, Light is a supervillain, they get set up on a blind double date and have to roll with it to protect their secret identities Author’s notes: This was super fun to write! Thank you for the amazing prompt! I hope this is what you were looking for, and that you enjoy it!

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Nate River had never given much thought to the idea of romance. He had experienced fleeting crushes in the past, but never any serious feelings, and he had never even been kissed at the ripe old age of eighteen. There were much more pressing issues in his life besides the lack of social milestones, so Nate wasn’t too concerned about his deficits in romantic experience.

Unfortunately, his roommate Linda did not have the same opinion.

“You’re going to die alone if you keep this up.”

Nate looked up from the small toy robot that had been occupying his attention before Linda opened her mouth. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

Linda sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve never seen you go on a date,” she said, as if that clarified anything.

“So?”

“So, you’ll end up alone and unhappy unless you find yourself a nice man.”

Nate raised an eyebrow, and he lifted his hand to curl a finger around a strand of wavy white hair. “You’re making an awful lot of bold assumptions.”

“Am I wrong?”

Nate paused, took a moment to consider the brief crushes he had in the past, and then admitted a small concession. “Not about my preference for men, but about my impending lonely fate? That remains to be seen.”

Linda approached Nate’s spot on the floor, where he was surrounded by tiny action figures. She sat down next to him, and picked up a small gray object from the circle of toys around him. “I’m worried about you, Nate,” she explained. “You’re always holed up in your room, messing around with these toys, but I think you should get out more and I have the perfect idea to help with that.”

Eyeing the object in her hand, Nate uncurled his finger from his hair. He reached over and plucked the tiny gray circle from her grasp, then stuffed the item into his pocket. “Your concern is noted,” he said, perhaps a bit too sharp. “Unfortunately for you, I disagree.”

“Can you hear me out, at least?”

“You’ve given me no compelling reason to do that, so the answer is no. Please leave me alone.”

Silence rang throughout the apartment, echoing with the sting of Linda’s hurt feelings. Nate didn’t feel sorry in the least; in fact, he felt entirely justified. After all, Linda had barged into his room and insulted his lifestyle. He was in the right to be short and snappy with her.

Nate watched impassively as Linda’s face fell. His roommate’s usually bright smile turned into a sullen frown, and her blue eyes became downcast. If Nate had been a different sort of person, he might have been moved by this display, but as it was, Linda’s wounded emotions did nothing to stir his heart or change his mind.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” Linda muttered, her voice small and hurt.

“I have no idea why you’re suddenly so invested in my romantic life, but whatever your reasons, you brought this on yourself by disparaging my hobbies.”

“Okay, okay, I guess you’re right. I should have gone about this in a different way.”

“Yes, you should have, but there’s no changing the past and no use lingering on this topic anymore. Weren’t you leaving?”

With a heavy sigh, Linda got up and left Nate to his own devices.

The city was dark at night, lit only by the occasional street lamp.

“Where is the tracker now, Watari?”

Near made his way through the gloomy city streets, dodging the warm circles of light cast by the lampposts. He stuck to dark, shadowy corners like glue, crouching behind parked cars and navigating narrow alleyways.

A voice crackled over the communication device in Near’s ear. “One block away, Near,” Watari said. “The location is pinging from that abandoned grocery store on the corner.”

As Near approached the store, he tugged his dark cowl down over his hair and eyes, shielding them from view. The streets were mostly empty, but he didn’t want to risk being identified, even by the vagrants who frequented this part of the city in the dead of night. After all, his white hair and gray eyes were rather distinctive. If Near ever let his guard down, it wouldn’t take a genius to eventually trace the actions of the vigilante Near back to the identity of one Nate River.

“Alright, I’m standing in front of the store now.”

“Yes, thank you. The tracker you placed on that nasty fellow is still pinging from inside that building.”

“Hmm, I really do hope this doesn’t end in physical violence. You know how much I hate fighting.”

“I’m aware of that, and I also know that you’ve had a very long night already, but at least Lidner will be pleased to hear that you were finally able to put some of her training to good use.”

Near made a face. His mouth twisted into a displeased frown. “That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny, I’m being completely serious. She’ll love to hear that you fought off a villain with a stick.”

“First of all, this isn’t exactly a stick. It’s a bō,” Near corrected. “Second of all, perhaps you’re correct. She seems to puff up with pride whenever I acknowledge her skills.”

“Yes, people tend to do that when you pay them a compliment.”

Ignoring Watari’s snark, Near began the task of sneaking into the dark building. He crept forward, towards the front of the store, keeping low to the ground. There wasn’t any light coming from the windows or the door, but Near had learned from experience that one could never be too careful when dealing with villains. The building seemed lifeless and empty from the outside, but there could be traps set inside - or even the villain himself, tracker and all. So, Near was sure to be stealthy as he peeked into the store from a low, dirty window.

The interior of the old shop seemed to be exactly what Near had expected. Mostly empty, save for a few shelves, and thick layers of dust covering every visible surface. Clearly, the store hadn’t been active in many years. It was the perfect place for squatters to take refuge - or for mysterious villains to set up a hideout.

“Best entrance route?” Near asked, eyeing the door in the corner of the shop, which appeared to lead somewhere deeper into the building. If Near had to guess, he would say that the door probably led to some sort of old office or employee break room. The door was dark and heavy-looking, with a shiny silver knob that could have easily been rigged with a villainous trap.

“You mean, besides walking right through the front door?” Watari teased.

“Watari, please, this is serious.”

“Alright, alright, I understand, I’m searching for an aerial view now.”

As Near waited for Watari’s next message, he took another look around the interior of the store. None of the dust seemed to be disturbed; the floor and the shelves all appeared to be completely untouched by human feet or hands, at least for the past few months.

Still, Near considered, the room could be monitored with hidden cameras and microphones. Best that I don’t use the main entrance unless there’s no other option.

“According to the aerial view, there’s a skylight towards the back of the building,” Watari announced.

Near frowned, and reached up to rub a strand of his own white hair between two fingers. “I don’t see a skylight from my current location, so the skylight must lead into the back room of the store. I can skip the main shop area entirely.”

“Well, that works out nicely.”

About fifteen minutes later, Near found himself on top of the roof, breathing heavily from exertion. “I’m never doing that again,” he managed in between gulps of air.

“Never say never, Near.”

After catching his breath, Near approached the skylight and peered through it. The bright moon illuminated the room beneath the glass, casting everything in a soft white glow. Through the skylight, Near could see the back room of the shop, which appeared mostly empty, save for a wooden desk.

“I’m entering the building now,” Near said, reaching to unlatch the skylight.

“Wait, Near!” Watari cried out, at the exact same time an unfamiliar voice whispered: “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Near whipped around, bringing up his bō staff in a fluid motion.

A masked man stood before Near, with his gloved hands raised in mock surrender.

“Who are you?” Near asked, his tone dark and serious.

The man smirked, then nodded to one of his hands. A familiar, small gray object rested between the fingers of his red leather-covered hand.

The tracker.

“Shit,” Near muttered under his breath.

“Looking for this?” The man asked, sounding carefree and quite pleased with himself. His voice was slightly deeper than Near had imagined, but it suited him just the same.

On impulse, Near jabbed at the mysterious villain with his staff.

As though he moved through the shadows, the man expertly evaded Near’s attack. He dodged, twisted, and kicked out. His dark boot landed in the center of Near’s chest, pushing the hero back.

Near stumbled back, tripping over his own feet. His ankle hit something behind him, probably a ledge of some kind, and suddenly, he was falling. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as the world warped around him.

Like something out of a movie, Near found himself falling in slow motion - legs bending, glass cracking from somewhere behind him, his body descending further and further into darkness.

Before Near could even process what was happening, the villain turned away. His silhouette was illuminated by the bright backdrop of the moon. He glanced over his shoulder as Near fell through the skylight. His brown eyes sparkled with the dual flickers of triumph and pride.

The villain’s smug grin was the last thing Near saw before darkness enveloped him completely.

“I can’t believe you finally roped me into this nonsense,” Nate River said.

Linda and Nate sat on a bench together, as the sky darkened and the air became thin and cold. She wore a coat and a light scarf over her dress, while he was dressed in only a collared button-up shirt and comfortable pants. The bright yellow bulbs from the nearby carnival casted the two roommates in a soft glow. Despite the warm light, Nate shivered, and Linda looked around frantically; her foot was tapping incessantly against the hard concrete of the sidewalk.

“Yes, well, this nonsense is going to do wonders for your social life, if those silly boys ever show up,” Linda said, glancing down at her phone with a frown.

Nate rolled his eyes. “First of all, my social life is perfectly satisfying as it is, thank you very much. Second of all, I’m sure they’ll be here any minute now.”

“I guess you’re right about that second thing,” Linda conceded, pointing towards a pair of young Japanese men who were quickly approaching their bench. “And we’ve already been over the first thing.”

The two men arrived at their bench, and Nate got a good look at both of them for the first time. One of the men, whom Linda greeted as ‘Matsuda’, had dark hair and big brown eyes that suited his handsome face and gentle expression. The other man was introduced as Light Yagami, a close friend of Matsuda’s and a fellow Japanese exchange student. Light’s hair was significantly lighter than Matsuda’s, and although his eyes were a similar shade of brown, his gaze spoke of a sharp intelligence that far exceeded his bumbling friend.

Nate knew those eyes.

That attractive pair of brown eyes had smirked at him, only a few nights ago, on a moon-drenched rooftop.

“Light Yagami, was it?” Nate clarified, his eyes traveling over every inch of Light’s pretty face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

After a beat, Light smiled at Nate. His smile was polite, but had an air of deceptive falseness about it. There was something lurking underneath the surface of that mask - some dark and dangerous secret that only Nate could truly see.

“It’s a pleasure to see you too, Nate,” Light said. His voice was familiar to Nate, just as deep and attractive as Nate remembered.

Unlike Matsuda, Light spoke English with a near-perfect American accent.

As Linda pulled Matsuda towards the carnival, Nate fell into step beside Light. The pair of them walked in silence for a bit, each of them calmly observing their surroundings. Nate noticed that the lights from the carnival complimented Light’s warm brown hair very well; his pretty locks seemed almost golden under the electric buzz of the soft outdoor string lights. Not even Linda’s incessant babbling could distract Nate from his careful observation of Light Yagami’s lustrous hair.

Suddenly, Light tore his gaze away from a crowd of people near the food vendors. As the group he had been watching moved on, Light turned his head to face Nate and looked at him - truly looked at him - for the first time.

“Are you cold, Nate?” Light asked, glancing down at Nate’s chest.

Nate could see that Light’s preppy jacket protected him from the slight chill of the night air. After all, Light wasn’t shivering at all, whereas Nate couldn’t help but tremble at the brush of a breeze against his pale skin. He really, really couldn’t help it - he had always been sensitive to temperature changes, ever since he was a young child. It wasn’t a particularly debilitating condition, but it could sometimes be annoying.

Such as, right now.

Nate’s brain was suddenly filled with images of Light offering him his jacket, like a scene straight out of a cheesy romance movie from the 1980s.

“No,” Nate said, like a liar. “I’m not cold.”

“If you insist. In that case, perhaps you’re simply eager for this double date to be over with, so you can go home?”

Nate raised an eyebrow, suddenly very thankful that Linda and Matsuda had moved out of earshot. “That’s awfully observant of you.”

Light shook his head, and a small smile crept onto his face. “No, I’m just projecting a bit, I think.”

“Ah, I see. So, you don’t want to be here either.”

“That’s correct. Matsuda wanted me to come along though, and I had no good reason to say no. If I had alternate plans, trust me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near this place.”

“You couldn’t have said that you were studying, or something like that?”

Once again, Light shook his head. He glared at a flimsy-looking carnival ride. “Matsuda is my roommate, and one of my oldest friends from back home in Japan. We also share many classes together, and he knows my schedule almost as well as he knows his own. He knows I don’t have any exams or major assignments coming up anytime soon.”

“Hmm, I see, that must be difficult.”

Light nodded.

A moment of awkward silence stretched between them, before Light broke the silence with a question.

“And what about you, Nate? Why are you really here, if you’re not actually interested in dating?”

“Similarly to yourself, I was compelled by my roommate to attend this little meeting. She made it clear that Mr. Matsuda wanted to go on a date with her, but he insisted on a double date, and so she needed me to step in and serve that role.”

“That makes sense,” Light said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Matsuda has always been anxious about romance and relationships with women, so he thought more company might take the edge off of his nervousness.”

Nate glanced over at Linda and Matsuda, who were standing a few booths away, at one of the carnival games. Through the crowd of happy fairgoers, Nate could clearly see the wide smile on Linda’s face. Matsuda said something to her, and she threw her head back and laughed with abandon. Nate recalled Linda’s pleading face from earlier, when she had practically begged Nate to go on the date with her, and her appearance now was certainly a stark contrast to that face.

Unable to stop the small smile from creeping onto his face, Nate turned away from Light. “Well, they seem to be having fun, so I suppose this night isn’t a complete waste of time.”

Light nodded, eyeing one of the nearby game booths. “Perhaps we can have some fun as well?” He asked, gesturing to the booth.

“You can’t be serious. I thought you didn’t want to be here.”

“True, I’d love to just go home right now, but I can’t without letting my roommate down, so I might as well make the most of this night, right?”

“I suppose you have a point.”

With that, Nate and Light approached the game booth.

Ten minutes later, Nate was holding a giant fluffy white bunny - a stuffed animal that Light had won at the silly dart game.

Nate frowned, staring down at the offending rabbit. “You’re better than me at darts,” he grumbled.

Light chuckled. “No, I think I just got lucky,” he said, looking at Nate with a curious expression on his face. “Regardless, I hope you like it. Are you going to give it a name?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” Nate said. He stared at Light’s face, observing the other man with a careful attention to detail. “His name is Kira.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Oh? You figured that out rather quickly, didn’t you?”

Nate nodded, then glanced away. Light’s expression and words told him everything that he needed to know.

“And? What are you going to do with Kira, now that you have him?” Light asked, his voice laced with double meaning.

Scoffing, Nate hugged the bunny closer to his chest, and continued to avoid Light’s gaze. “I’ll turn him over to the proper authorities, of course.”

It was Light’s turn to scoff. “You won’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because Kira is helping society, and also, you’re wildly attracted to me.”

Nate almost dropped the stuffed rabbit. He turned towards Light, and a soft pink blush spread across his cheeks. His eyes went wide.

“Kira kills people,” Nate managed, cursing himself.

“Only rotten people,” Light corrected. “This world is rotten, but Kira is making it better, so good people can live happy and peaceful lives.”

Nate shook his head. “Murdering a few corrupt politicians and businessmen isn’t going to magically make the system just or right. All it does is make Kira a murderer.”

“Hmm, well, if Kira is simply a murderer and a villain in your eyes, what about that vigilante? Near, wasn’t it?”

“Near doesn’t kill people.”

“Yet, the police are still hunting him with the same energy that they use to hunt Kira. Isn’t that interesting? I imagine they’d be grateful to receive any hint of Near’s true identity, no matter the source of the information.”

Well, that was a threat.

At that exact moment, Linda rushed up to them, holding a plate full of funnel cake. “Come on, guys, Matsu bought me this cake and I can’t eat it all on my own! Share it with me!”

Nate looked from the cake, to Light, and then back to the cake. After a moment of hesitation, he reached up and grabbed a small piece of fried dough from the plate. He held the piece up towards Light’s lips.

“Here,” Nate prompted. “Have you ever tried funnel cake before?”

Light’s eyes widened, and he stared at Nate in disbelief. “No, I haven’t,” he admitted, shocked and quiet.

Nate held the cake up a little closer to Light’s face, and Light leaned forward slightly, meeting him halfway. When Light took the cake into his mouth, his lips brushed lightly over Nate’s fingers. The lips were warm, and felt almost electric against Nate’s skin. Nate resisted the urge to shiver. Something deep and primal was stirring inside of him, something that he couldn’t really place, but certainly didn’t feel familiar.

Something that made him want to be closer to Light Yagami, despite the knowledge of his date’s true identity.

From that point onwards, the date proceeded normally for the most part. Nate and Light attempted to act naturally around Linda and Matsuda, saving all double-life talk for later. After all, neither of them wanted to duke it out in front of their roommates, or the dozens of other citizens strolling around nearby. So, they made more polite conversation as Linda and Matsuda dragged them around to different booths and rides.

Finally, the night seemed to be reaching an end. Linda and Matsuda had snuck off somewhere, presumably to say goodbye to each other properly before parting ways. Nate and Light were left alone, near an empty patch of grass.

An awkward silence hung between them, not for the first time that night. Nate wasn’t exactly sure what to say, or if he should say anything at all. He couldn’t exactly leave the carnival and go turn Light over to the police - for one, he didn’t have any physical or concrete evidence that Light was the villain known as Kira, and perhaps even more concerning, Light had vaguely threatened to out him to the cops if he was ever caught. All of which put Nate in a very uncertain position: he knew the identity of the villain Kira, but wasn’t in any position to do anything about it.

Light cleared his throat, which drew Nate’s attention. When Nate glanced over, he saw that Light was staring at him with another odd expression on his face, a look that Nate couldn’t really identify.

“What?” Nate asked, shifting uncomfortably, and clutching the stuffed bunny tighter against his chest.

“I--”

Whatever Light had begun to say was cut off with a sharp BANG!

Nate nearly jumped out of his own skin. His upper body grew very tense, very quickly, and he shuffled closer to Light.

On what must have been some kind of protective instinct, Light reached out and put his arm around Nate’s shoulders. “It’s okay,” Light said, suddenly calm and soothing. “It’s just the fireworks.”

“Fireworks? Linda didn’t say there would be fireworks.”

“Maybe she didn’t know? I take it you’re not a fan of loud, sudden noises, huh?”

Nate shook his head. “I’m not a fan of them in the best of times, and these happen to be the worst of times, so you can only imagine how I feel in this moment.”

Light winced, and pulled his arm away. Nate found, quite strangely, that he missed the subtle warmth and pressure of Light’s hand on his body, even though it had only been there for a short while.

“I want to apologize,” Light said softly, barely audible over the continued explosions from the fireworks.

“For what?” Nate asked, genuinely confused.

“For your tumble through the skylight. I know you seem to be fine now, but I’m sure falling through a window and landing on a hard floor hurts like hell at first.”

Nate blinked. “Yes, it does. And no, I don’t accept your apology, because I don’t believe you’re actually sorry for what you’ve done, or for what you continue to do.”

Light didn’t respond to that, only gazing at Nate in an impressed silence.

Suddenly, Linda and Matsuda reappeared, both of them pink-cheeked and out of breath. Before Nate and Light could say much more to each other, they’re both pulled away by their respective roommates, pulled apart, and brought home.

At home, in the quiet and darkness of his room, Nate felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

A sudden buzz lit up his phone, and he glanced down without thinking - only to see a text from an unknown number splashed across his screen. He read the message silently, and then smiled softly to himself.

Nate knew that he would eventually be the one to bring Light Yagami to justice, regardless of the cost to himself. But he still had to gather evidence to prove his case, and in the meantime, well...why not have some fun and make the most of it?

#fanfiction #death note #submission #moonriver #near #light yagami #linda #matsuda #watari #lindaxmatsuda #ratings: teen #realtruesuccessor #yagami-raito-kun #Near's Bday Finale 2k21

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rechoired · 4 years

Text

A problem with the Tales Of Arcadia community

First and foremost, I’d like to ask anyone taking the time to read this to please read the post all the way through before commenting on the matter. There is a lot of dirty laundry to unpack here, and some points will be building off previous ones.

I’ll get right to the point. Most everybody in the Tales of Arcadia fandom will have heard of the blog imthegingerninja / ginger-le-gay. She is one of the most well-known ToA-centric blogs, after all. (If you’re wanting to avoid her on Twitter as well, her account is Margaret Bell, or @The_Book_Bell.)

This is your PSA, TOA fandom: Ginger is a toxic, manipulative person.

This is not a claim I like to make lightly, but it’s long overdue that this issue is properly brought up within the fandom.

I’ve seen so many people wonder why the Tales of Arcadia fandom is so small. Well, I and many others very strongly believe that Ginger is one of the main reasons for that, if not the main one. To make matters easier, I’ve tried to break this down into some main points. So let’s take a look at how Ginger falls under this category.

Disclaimer: Please DO NOT look at this post as an excuse to harass Ginger or any other blog mentioned here. This sort of behavior is NOT acceptable. The point of this post is to educate those who may not know the extent of her harrowing behavior, nothing more.

1. Dishonesty and Death Threats

[EDIT: Shortly after this post went up, she started blatantly lying about me to try to cover for herself. You can see those lies being easily disproven here]

Ginger has been kicked from at least three Tales of Arcadia servers, all for similar reasons of violence. While I cannot provide screenshots as I am no longer part of the servers they were in, there are multiple witnesses that can verify the disgusting behavior she engaged in. The one I saw specifically was her saying that certain members of the fandom should be gathered up and hunted for sport, among other gross things. (Elaboration of why can be found in point 3, though it still doesn’t excuse this kind of talk)

Here is some points made by another blog that also sums up similar issues with Ginger, though:

While there were multiple instances of her inciting violence towards others, this is unfortunately one topic I cannot provide specific screenshots for at this time. But I will add them in as I can find them. That being said, I want to move to the dishonesty, something I do have a screenshot for.

While you could argue that people sometimes notice the similar things, this is far too close together to be considered an “original find”. The reblog button is there for a reason, but she instead decides to steal the OP’s premise and present it as her own original thought.

There have been a couple other blogs that have confirmed that their theories and analysis posts were often stolen and presented as Ginger’s own as well, to the point where they stopped bothering even making such posts, as the above blog points out. (Out of respect for their privacy, I will not be naming these blogs. Say what you will about that possibly weakening my point, but if she’s willing to so blatantly steal from that person shown above, it shouldn’t surprise you that she’s so willing to do it to others.)

Theory-making and analysis posts aren’t as solidly “original content” as a piece of art or fanfiction, sure, but it’s still common fandom courtesy to give credit where it’s due. Ginger has intentionally avoided extending that courtesy far too many times.

2. Hypocrisy

Most of this is going to be about past Merlin vs. Morgana drama, though there are also words to be said for the incredibly shaky relationships she forms with “friends”.

But first let’s talk about those wizards.

This is a topic I’ve tried to approach with Ginger before, but she borderline refused to acknowledge any of the points I was trying to make, and when she did, I don’t know if I just wasn’t being clear or what, but it honestly looked as though she was purposefully trying to misunderstand what I was saying in her bizarre responses. (To be fair, I was sending messages out of anger because she vagueposted about a blog I admired, calling them a “disgusting creep” because of them simply saying they’d hoped Jim and Merlin would be able to actually bond at some point... Not really a justifiable reaction to such a harmless thought, in my opinion. But my point is, I recognize that the circumstances may have clouded my ability to vocalize my thoughts clearly.)

That aside, we should first acknowledge this post Ginger made to save face after having gotten some backlash about hate-train related things (Side note: I couldn’t find the original post, so this is a screenshot I got from someone else. I did not add the writing. The text underneath it should still be slightly readable, I hope.):

Taken at face value, this is a very reasonable post. I think everybody would and should be able to agree on it. Hate-meme him for fun, sure, but don’t actually harass or insult others over a fictional character. Simple, right?

Apparently not, because Ginger’s done loads of that to others. Probably why the “LOL” was added in, I bet.

This post confused me. First of all, exploring dark topics (”angst”, as you put it) has never been a rare occurrence, every fandom has that content, most in heavy abundance. I’ve noticed no staggering difference in volume of this fandom compared to others I’ve been in. People enjoy angst not because they think the character “deserves to be in pain”, they enjoy a fictional blow to their own emotions. There’s lots of different reasons people like angst, but it’s barely ever been out of a genuine hate for whatever character’s the focus, from all the things I’ve seen. Your own friends have indulged in Jim angst and body horror posts before, does that mean you think they’re awful people? I feel like I shouldn’t have to explain something like this.

Also, way to basically admit you think all Merlin stans get off on child torture. So much for “If you like Merlin as a character, you’re valid”, am I right? God, what a mess of a post. (It’s been very recently deleted, which makes me wonder if she got more backlash on it, but just... wow.)

Let’s look at another one.

Again. Vagueposting about someone specific, I’d wager, since most of the people I’ve seen comment on this topic either think both characters are morally gray, or hate both.

But of course, when it comes to Morgana, suddenly excusing bad behavior can be justified. Ginger can call someone a disgusting creep because they want a familial bond between Jim and Merlin, that’s just wrong, but pushing the Mom-gana narrative with the genocidal abuser and Toby is completely fine, folks.

(Note: I would like to point out that I really don’t care about what theories and hopes people have for Morgana. You should be allowed to love that character in any way you want, same as I would say for Merlin. My issue with these examples is the completely brazen hypocrisy in which these two characters are treated. You’re obviously allowed to love Morgana without consequence, but the same should be said for any character of the show, and yet it’s not.)

The most obvious instance of this double-standard is well observable here, I believe:

... I think this mostly speaks for itself. Sorry, but this is very blatantly trying to excuse Morgana’s actions, here.

Oh hey, remember that post about Ginger saying that liking Merlin must mean you want to see Jim in horrible pain?

Say anything similar about her with Morgana, and suddenly she takes issue with this line of reasoning!

I’m sorry, but if you can’t take this sort of thing, then you shouldn’t be dishing it out. One of your own friends is still getting hate over the simple fact of liking Merlin, and all this mentality is exactly why.

Let’s look at one more.

Fun fact! Morgana horrifically abused somebody for centuries, tried to kill multiple kids, took horrible advantage of Claire (probably traumatized her), and canonically wanted to genocide humanity, not to mention all the OTHER murders she's committed, both directly and indirectly.

But somehow pointing any of this out “doesn’t count”. This is why the fandom keeps saying more and more things like this:

And this:

I could be going through her constant hating on Merlin and people who like Merlin for days straight, but I hope you all get the idea by now.

Again, I would like to just reiterate: You can like whatever character you want for whatever reason you want. The problem with this case is the hypocrisy and mistreatment of others, not your taste in characters.

Now interestingly enough, she’s lately been singing a different tune about the guy, switching from the “I hate Merlin I hope he dies!!!” mentality to “Oh he should get a redemption arc too :)” sort of thing.

I’m highly convinced that the only reasons for this “change of heart” is because of the constant backlash she was getting for the obnoxious amount of hate posts being thrown around all the time, but also because Aaron Waltke keeps tabs on the fandom more lately, and has spoken himself about Merlin not being a villain.

I could go on about this point forever, but I think I’ll just leave the Merlin topic with this post going through the hypocrisy of the Merlin Hate Train. In fact, here’s two just for fun.

Now onto more real-world focused areas of hypocrisy. One such instance can be found in Ginger’s Janus Disorder server.

Just take a look at this post.

While the offender in this case isn’t Ginger specifically, it still takes place in her server, and she made no moves to enforce her “No discourse” rule. All over... what? A random kudos on a fanfiction that’s not even about anything controversial since all characters involved are adults? I immensely don’t understand the point of why this ever had to be an issue, or why nobody spoke up about how ridiculous this is.

I’d also like to point out a certain user called firecat17. For some quick context, waaay back in the Kung Fu Panda fandom (around 2018), this user had been harassing people and saying incredibly vile things, a person of which Ginger had a bit of a feud, but firecat’s anon threats had gotten to the point where Ginger ended up having to block their IP.

Obviously, the user firecat was the one in the wrong, here. (Also, the irony in this comment is through the roof...)

Interesting point there, Ginger. Sure would be nice if you practiced what you preached.

Why am I bringing this random old drama up, you may ask? Well, it just strikes me as strange that someone who was so vile to Ginger is suddenly on her okay-list again, sending her asks and getting casual responses as if nothing ever happened.

To be fair, there is the possibility that they worked out their differences in private. But given the severity of the kinds of words being exchanged, I would still find that rather suspicious.

When someone who’s said things so vile can be so easily forgiven, yet something as harmless as leaving a kudos on some random fanfiction is considered grounds for harassment, it’s obvious there’s no stability or room for trust among this group of people. Unsurprising when there’s been several instances of this “friend group” turning on each other.

If you think you’re somehow different, that your “friendship” with Ginger or the others is more valued than that, then I’m sorry to burst your bubble but it’s likely not true. She’d throw you under the bus at the hint of you doing something she deems problematic, as it’s happened to multiple blogs before you.

3. Demonization of and insensitivity towards s*xual abuse victims

(This topic is one that’s hard for me to talk about, being a victim of CSA myself, so I’ve gathered some different sources to do most of the main talking for me. I tried to form more commentary on this myself, but I get too emotionally charged in my responses, and I don’t want that to cloud any reader’s perception of what I’m trying to communicate here, so I’ll try to keep most of my comments brief on this one.)

One thing recently brought to my attention about Ginger and her squad that especially bothers me is their rashness in labeling people p*dophiles and p*do apologists. If these claims were true, then I wouldn’t have a problem with it.

But these people are accusing others of these horrible things and threatening them on the sole basis of fictional content.

Now before you fly off the handle at me, let me be very clear: I absolutely understand that there are gross people out there who use the “It’s all just fiction” argument to hide their actual, pr*datory behaviors. (We’ve all probably seen at least one or two neckbeard memes of that caliber)

But like it or not, exploring traumatic themes through a fictional lens is something that has been studied and proven to be a genuine coping mechanism for some. It’s not something that works for me, but I knew a few people from past therapy groups that it worked surprisingly well for. Bringing a trauma into a controlled environment and processing it through fictional means can and does help some victims deal with what they went through.

It’s important to understand that not everyone processes their experience in the same neat, little boxes you have laid out as the only “acceptable” ways of coping. Trauma fiction and expressive arts therapy are commonly used by victims, and it does help some people, whether you like it or not.

I’m already dragging this on too much, so here are some sources for better-worded information on the topic (Warning: Most of these deal with highly sensitive themes such as gun violence and s*xual abuse.)

Source 1 - Source 2 - Source 3 - Source 4 - Source 5 (pages 61 onward, specifically) - Source 6 - Source 7 - Source 8 - Source 9 - Source 10 (and believe me, if those all don’t satisfy you, I can easily supply more.)

And this quote from source 9 I think sums it up best:

“Fiction works differently. My imagination gives me a framework to process the grief and terror and the consequences, even when I myself have not found any resolution. It allows me to enter my own traumatic experiences sideways and linger inside them, if I know I can give them to characters who might be lucky enough to find the antidote: love, connection, community, family. In other words, I can enter — and exit — the trauma loop through stories that are not exactly the same as mine.

This goes for the reader also. Recent studies periodically assure us that stories — literary fiction, hardcover books, even the simple act of reading — promote empathy. We rarely have identical experiences, so fiction is how we practice linking our similar or parallel realities so we can feel them. This seems particularly useful in our current society, where we are all so separated, and are working so hard to block the violence that keeps happening to us from our minds.

Fiction connects us, and it can also contribute to our healing. When we see ourselves in worlds we don’t live in, like The Handmaid’s Tale or The Color Purple, sometimes, that very different violence helps us finally process our own. Because as much as our memoirs and testimonies are brave and validating, fiction does not just mirror our truths so they are safe to experience; it also helps us endure the aftermath. Because long after the immediate experience is over, survival struggles onward, in every moment of our daily lives.”

While most professionals have in the past advised that victims keep their trauma-related works more private, to only show it to your trusted friends or family, the fast-growing use of the internet has led more people to sharing it in an online platform, which is not unexpected behavior.

I unfortunately don’t have the screenshot of the original post, but there was a post made some time back literally telling a fandom member to go and hang themselves over this garbage. A survivor of s*xual abuse, no less. And to top that off, one of Ginger’s squad @emmy-puff commented in support of that violent post, as well as blatantly misgendering the target of it. While, again, I was unable to get screenshots, there are multiple witnesses to this instance, one Anonymous even having called them out on it back when it happened. (I suspect that Emmy deleted that answer due to how bad it made them look.) If anybody reading this has screenshots of the initial post or the ask that came of it, please feel free to share.

I don’t care who you are or who you’re talking about, if you use misgendering someone as a way to hurt them, then you are an insult to the trans community. That is an awful thing to do, and you lose so much credibility if that’s the only thing you can fall back on when getting in a fight with someone. While this post isn’t about Emmy specifically, this is exactly the kind of hateful rhetoric that’s being encouraged in the environment Ginger’s made.

Another thing I would like to point out on this matter is an instance that happened in the ToA fandom a couple years back. I, again, don’t have screenshots available (I believe the original post ended up deleted) but the post in question caused enough of a fuss that I’m sure a few people must remember it...

A while back, there was an artist that posted uncensored, untagged r*pe art of Aaarrrgghh, Gunmar, and Jim in the main Trollhunters tag. As you can imagine, this infuriated many people. Many of which are among the list of those who’ve been labeled “p*do apologists”. Almost the very minute that post showed up in the tag with no trigger warnings of any kind, the fandom immediately got on OP’s tail about it, because they all shared that basic understanding of “This is a traumatizing subject for many people and they should have the ability to avoid it”. If the people you’ve labelled as pr*dator supporters were really as awful as you say they are, they would’ve jumped to that person’s defense, too. But they were completely against OP’s horrible lack of consideration of survivors, right alongside the rest of the fandom.

Am I saying you have to like trauma fiction? Absolutely not. Are there people that make trauma fiction that are actual pr*dators? I’m sure there are. But those people would be that way whether trauma fiction was out there or not. Gross people have existed and will always exist regardless of what media is out there.

I deeply understand the controversy, uncertainty, and stress that surrounds this topic, I promise you, I do. But the fact of the matter is, some people actually do use trauma fiction and expressive arts therapy as a way of coping, as has been observed in people even from ages as young as 5. To say otherwise is blatantly untrue. This isn’t a matter of opinion or morals, this is plain, studied facts that you cannot change about human psychology.

Nobody should ever have to go through something as horrible as s*xual abuse of any kind, and I know how deeply upsetting it can be to see certain images or stories with those themes in play. Those users with a sense of decency and understanding for fellow victims will tag their posts with the appropriate warnings. After that, it’s up to you to filter out what you don’t want to see. You curate your own internet experience, and it’s just plain irrational to try and harass everyone into conforming to your rules. While it’s an 18+ blog’s job to make sure to tag and label their content appropriately, it is your job to block the things you don’t want to see, whether you’re an adult or a minor. It is YOUR job to blacklist content that you know will upset you, because it is always going to exist on the internet, and any internet user needs to know and understand that. Multiple times I’d seen people going off about posts that were already appropriately trigger-tagged. If you don’t have those upsetting tags blacklisted by now, then the fault is mostly on you in that kind of case, not the OP.

Before I end this topic off, just one more example of blatant disrespect towards victims:

I’m sorry, but the absolute nerve of comparing some random fictional character you’re petty over to an actual pr*dator who’s terribly hurt real children is just awful. Imagine how insulted one of Onion’s victims would be if they saw that. Lord.

Ginger claims to care about victims, but she’s made it abundantly clear that she only cares about those that behave the way she think a victim should.

4. Ableism

I’m going to just show a couple posts here and let them mostly speak for themselves.

Just... my God. You looked at the definition of psychopath and decided that was enough to give you qualification to speak like this about it? Do you realize the extensive work and study of human psychology goes into the diagnosis and understandings of psychopathy? Not to mention, you just admit to thinking people deserve hate because of a mental disorder they legitimately have no control over? I’m sorry, but that is just cruel. Demonization of the mentally ill is not cute or funny. Next.

While I’m still annoyed with Emmy’s transphobic treatment of another user mentioned earlier, they make a very solid point in this instance. (The first post they referenced has since been deleted, but here’s the second one speaking out against the ableism.) I feel I don’t need to add much to this, as these points have already been argued very well by users better qualified to speak on the subject than I.

5. Manipulation tactics

This part is more observations of two kinds of abuse tactics Ginger appears to demonstrate, using the above as points of reference.

First, there’s DARVO.

Then, less formally, there’s this good point about online cult mentality.

Before you say anything, obviously I don’t think Ginger thinks of herself as some sort of deity. While it could be argued that she considers herself a point of authority within the TOA fandom maybe, I haven’t seen enough of this to say for sure how far that goes. So that point can be ignored, because it mostly doesn’t apply in this case. (The “Dictating parts of your online life” might also not apply, but I can’t say for sure as I haven’t gotten any confirmation of that sort of thing in Ginger’s group.)

But there are grains of truth in the other four points, especially that last one. Plain and simple, she’s made people afraid to speak their minds about even harmless things such as character analysis.

Ginger is someone who can’t seem to comprehend different viewpoints and life experiences. She’s extremely unsympathetic towards people she doesn’t understand, as can be observed in above examples. Assuming malicious intent from everybody you can’t understand is a dangerous and hurtful mindset to have, for both you and those who you unnecessarily scorn.

There are a few outcomes I’ve speculated should she ever come to see this post.

1. She will ignore this post completely, pretending as if it doesn’t exist

2. She will dismiss me as being some sort of horrible person, a p*do apologist or something of the sort (despite being a victim of that myself, clearly she doesn’t care about who’s actually been hurt by real p*dos or not if they don’t conform to her narrow worldview), and claim nothing I’ve said bears any meaning, despite the extensive evidence I’ve provided.

3. She will get people to try and attack me.

4. She will actually address these points in a tactful, mature, and serious manner instead of her usual act of trying to dismiss everything at the slightest hint of non-conformity. (The least likely outcome, but one can dream.)

I could add to this post all day, but it’s long enough as it is and my focus was on getting the main points out of the way. I understand that I lack some of the receipts necessary to back myself up in a few parts, but I know that many other fans have bared witness to those things, so I know there will be at least some people who’ll know what I speak of is true, and that’s good enough for me.

That being said, if anybody has screenshots of the instances I wasn’t able to provide for, it would be greatly appreciated if you could add them into the conversation.

!!!-If you have screenshots, but are too uncomfortable to get involved in this, then you can private-message them to me and I would be grateful and more than happy to add them in while keeping you completely anonymous.-!!!

(I've removed the section with all the tags, as I recognize it was probably going overboard. My goal was just to spread information, not to try and involve those tagged, but I understand how that may have gotten lost in translation and made people uncomfortable. Also, it apparently was showing up multiple times in people’s notifications when I only tagged people twice, so I’m not sure why that glitch happened, but I apologize for that annoyance as well.)

Now, to end us off, my responses to questions or angry comments I’m probably going to get:

You don’t even have all the evidence! How are we to know you’re not just lying about some of this?

Admittedly, I don’t have as much screenshot proof as I would like, that’s true. But for most of the instances I couldn’t provide for, there were other witnesses to her bad behavior. I don’t really have the need to lie when there’s already a lot of knowledge out there of the bad stuff she has done. Nor do I really have the emotional investment in this fandom anymore to lie for the pointless reason of causing drama.

Why post this on a throwaway account if you think people are on your side?

I just don’t really want my main blog associated with TOA anymore, to be frank.

You tagged a bunch of people, so you must be trying to get them to attack Ginger!

No. I tagged a bunch of people because I think this information should be heard on a wider scale, considering the position Ginger has in the fandom. I don’t want her or anybody else to be attacked, but her negative impact on this fandom deserves to be acknowledged.

Again, I don’t think Ginger or any of the others deserve harassment or cyberbullying or anything of that manner, that’s kind of what this whole post is against. And it just hurts the situation more than it helps it. What bothers me is how she’s never apologized for or even once acknowledged the gross way she’s treated people. While she might be more low-key about it now, she still treats people who don’t deserve it like garbage. There are still several people upset about the damage she’s caused to this fandom, rightfully so. I wouldn’t be so loud about making this post if I didn’t think it was something worth drawing attention to.

Thank you for reading.

#TrollHunters #3Below #TOAwizards #Tales of Arcadia #TOA

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blvejeanbaby · 4 years

Text

The Farmhouse (m)

Pairing: Wooyoung x reader, San x reader, Yeosang x reader + multiple Ateez members x OC characters + boy x boy action Word count: 14.9k Warning: sex (though mostly foreplay), threesome, mentions of sex, alcohol use, some Ateez members are gay

disclaimer: I am not trying to assume anyone’s sexuality with this story, that was not what this was meant for! This is all a work of fiction and what I write in this story doesn’t necessarily reflect my thoughts in real life.

A/N: I had originally planned for this story to end up very, very differently but I like to write wherever my mind goes. That’s why I had originally planned to split this up into four parts, with a different ending in my mind. You’ll find out part of what that different ending was in the extra scene at the end n.n

Day 1 On a trip, the last mile is always the longest - it’s not so much the truth as the truth of a feeling. Yunho made sure the last mile wouldn’t come for a while. Even though he had proclaimed himself to be an excellent driver, perfectly capable of following up instructions while driving safely, he hadn’t been too successful in making that statement come true. With Jongho screaming different directions at him, increasingly getting more frustrated with Yunho’s inability to follow these, Yechan from the back attempting to give directions without really knowing where all of you were, you were more so focused on what was outside of the car. Over the course of your journey to the countryside, the landscape had gradually changed; from the tall buildings of the busy city, you got closer and closer to the national park, where you would be staying nearby. “This must be it!” Daemi said excitedly. She had been quiet while the others had been arguing, but when you looked out of the front window, you noticed she was right. The building, a large two-storey farmhouse, concealing an even bigger backyard, with a vineyard next to it, matched the AirBnB advertisement perfectly. “Oh, that’s Seonghwa’s car,” Yunho said, unable to keep the relief out of his voice. He steered the car onto the driveway and parked it right next to Seonghwa’s. When you got out of the car, you were instantly greeted by a voice from higher up: “Hey, look up!” You shielded your eyes from the sun as you looked up to find a half-naked Wooyoung hanging out of an open window. “You’re the last ones to arrive.” “It’s because Yunho can’t drive,” Jongho said, at the same time Daemi said: “It’s because Jongho doesn’t know how to read a map.” “Well, you’d better come up and get yourselves a room,” Wooyoung said. “The others have already started drinking and none of the groceries have been done yet.” To that, everyone nearly fell over each other to collect their bags from the trunk of the car. The house had enough rooms to accommodate 16 people, but because of some being less comfortable sleeping in rooms with certain others, everyone had more or less divided up the rooms beforehand, and mattresses were dragged around to make sure everyone had a bed to sleep in at night. Or during the day, considering the objective of this trip was not to have a wholesome trip to escape from your usual busy lives in the city. Of course it was that too, but there was also the idea that you would just get away to party and get drunk, the way you couldn’t so easily in the city, where there was always some authority to monitor you. You shared a room with Daemi and Yechan, your best girl friends. To accommodate Yechan, you got an extra mattress from the room opposite yours, which was one with an in-room shower. “…so that’s our bathroom,” Yechan concluded as she flopped down onto her unmade mattress and closed her eyes. “I’m going to take a nap.” “A nap? We have to make our beds first. And the groceries still need to be done,” Daemi said. “Why didn’t anybody else go while we were gone?” you sighed. “Well, if Wooyoung’s right and they already started drinking…” Daemi shrugged. “Maybe we should do the groceries. Before everyone gets too drunk.” When you got downstairs, you saw that Daemi had been right; a lot of people were already quite drunk. Seonghwa was one of them, pressing his car keys into your hands, despite you not having a drivers’ license. “Take them,” he said. “Take them. Take more beer with you too. The good ones.” “Hwa, I don’t drink beer-“ you started, but Seonghwa kept rambling about the beer you needed to get. “I’ll come with you,” San said, jumping up from his seat next to Alice and pushing Seonghwa into it. “I know which brand of beer he likes.” He smiled at you and you smiled back thankfully. You were glad to find that it wasn’t just going to be you and San doing the groceries – as he had been drinking and you didn’t have your license, there was no one who could even legally drive the car off the property if you had wanted to. You were glad to find it wasn’t just going to be the two of you. That would’ve probably made for some awkward moments between you. You had been alone with just San before, and it had been normal, until it wasn’t anymore. Something snuck into your relationship that could only be described as attraction. Perhaps it was just plain physical attraction, as your heart always beat slightly quicker when you saw him, or perhaps it ran deeper, but what you did know was that your friendship was good and you didn’t want to ruin it with a crush. The dynamic in the friend group had always been amazing. The traditional idea about boys and girls not being able to be friends without romantic feelings involved, was completely destroyed by you guys’ friendships. Only Seonghwa and Sooyoung were officially dating, following a set-up Hongjoong had cooked up by himself. Sooyoung had never been part of the friend group before, and the same went for Soojin, her best friend. The friend group dynamics had actually improved upon Sooyoung and Soojin’s introductions to the group nearly two years ago. It was for that reason you didn’t feel uncomfortable while in the car with only boys: Yunho drove again, Jongho navigating once more. You were squished in between Hongjoong and San in the backseat of Yunho’s car, which was roomier than Seonghwa’s, with the latter’s car keys pressing into your leg through your jeans. While Jongho and Yunho already started arguing about which way to go and which supermarket to choose, you turned to Hongjoong as he talked about the plans for the next couple of days: “…sauna, so maybe we can hop in there tonight. And tomorrow Anna and I want to do a barbecue by the lakeside. It’s not that far a drive but if we want to take beer there, we can walk too.” “Of course we’ll want to take beer,” San said. “Maybe even wine and stuff. Hey, Y/N, we have your favourite drink too. It’s cheaper in cities than in the countryside, we figured out.” “My favourite drink?” you turned to him. “That soju-yogurt cocktail you like so much. Wooyoung and Yeosang made it for you.” You felt your heart swell at San remembering you liking soju-yogurt cocktails. It had been a while since you told him about loving it the first time you tried it and it becoming your signature drink when going out. You weren’t big on alcohol the way other people could be, but sometimes you found yourself casually wanting to make your own soju-yogurt cocktail at home. “I hope there’s still left when we get back.” Once at the grocery store – which was tucked away behind a scary-looking church that, according to Yunho’s limited amount of information about the surrounding area, once belonged to a cult – Hongjoong was in charge of listing off the grocery list and checking the boxes corresponding with what the others put into the cart. You were staying close to San’s side, as you always did when he was around. Yes, you found him physically attractive, which made you want to look at him all the time, but there was also something absolutely magnetic about his personality that made you want to be talking to him always. And it seemed like San was really into your conversation as you wandered off from Hongjoong and Jongho to find a certain brand of pasta sauce. Despite the simplicity of the topics you were talking about, which ranged from Yunho not being able to drive and Yechan karate chopping you in the head when she saw a mosquito flying past that she wanted to kill, you felt a little nervous around San. Once you had told Daemi about it, hoping she would come with valuable advice, but instead she had laughed at you and just declared you were crushing on San, hard. And perhaps she was right. When you got back to the farmhouse, needless to say, the soju-yogurt cocktail was gone. Feeling robbed of the one thing you were looking forward to about returning, you opted to drink water instead. You’d start drinking alcohol after dinner, you told yourself, so you wouldn’t get sick. Finally, when it was clear there were little to no sober people you could strike up conversation with, you excused yourself to go upstairs and shower. The summer heat made everything hot and sticky, including your body. You grabbed a towel and some clean clothes as well as your toiletry bag before going to the single room with the shower. The room was small and simple, with a window overlooking the backyard and the mountains in the distance. You cracked the window open, quickly glancing down to see the back patio, only accessible through the kitchen. As you put on the shower, you enjoyed the smell of freshly cut grass and summer drafting in through the window, as well as the sound of the water cascading on your body mixing with the sounds of a chirping bird outside and the sounds of cows in the distance. Until your attention was caught by a sudden yelp: “Wooyoung!” Your eyes shot wide open when you recognized that voice. Rose. Along with Alice and Anna, they were in your friend group because Daemi liked them a lot. Your personality didn’t match well with Rose and although you didn’t hate each other or anything, you weren’t very fond of Rose and you were sure the sentiment was shared by her. As far as you knew, Wooyoung, however, thought she was amazing. “Don’t tell me you don’t like it,” Wooyoung’s voice sounded, loud, as if he was right there in the room with you. It immediately gave you goose bumps. “Hm, I like it,” Rose’s voice came again. You could just about imagine her shaking her blonde hair out of her face, over her shoulder… You had always thought she looked closest to an angel as was humanly possible. Perhaps your dislike of her had something to do with how you were jealous of her always getting the guys she wanted, how she managed to get every single boy to ever lay eyes on her to fall in love with her and how she could effortlessly keep and make friends… “You like this?” “Hm, Rose…” That was a groan. A groan from Wooyoung. You had never heard something so utterly sexual. You shivered. Saying you were feeling increasingly uncomfortable was nearly an understatement. They continued to make sounds that made you want to throw up in your mouth. Had they been drinking this much already? Or were they just that into each other that it didn’t bother them it was broad daylight outside? Did they not hear your shower running too? Or were they not aware how perfectly audible they were? You felt like you weren’t supposed to be naked while you could hear them so clearly; it felt weird. You quickly turned off the shower and wrapped your towel around yourself. Even though you had taken your clothes and toiletry bag into the single room, you didn’t want to hear a single sound anymore, so you made your way back to your room where you took your time getting ready, trying to shake off the nasty feeling Wooyoung and Rose’s acts had left behind. While putting on clothes and jewellery and smearing light makeup on your face, you felt the urge to dress the best you could, despite the fact you were just going to be cooking and eating and drinking with your group of best friends. There was something inside of you screaming that you wanted to prove to everyone that you, too, were worthy of getting fingered and giving handjobs on the patio as well – there was no other explanation for what they had been doing and no need to lie to yourself about it. More importantly, you felt the need to prove to specifically Wooyoung you could handle whatever he would give you on that patio. More so than Rose. But that was ridiculous. You wouldn’t really want Wooyoung to touch you like that. As you finished the perfect winged eyeliner, you decided that was enough makeup. You made your way downstairs, collecting Anna, Daemi and Hongjoong for dinner. “Let’s get going,” you said. “Seems like you already got going,” Daemi chuckled, following you closely into the kitchen. “Who is that outfit for?” “For you, of course.” You sent her a wink. “San is one lucky boy,” Daemi said quietly, so no one else could hear, before getting to work on cutting up onions. If only she knew, you thought to yourself, taking it upon yourself to cut up the potatoes. It took a surprisingly long time to cook for 16 people, despite the extra hands pitching in to slice up vegetables and do the washing up. You realized how much you’d been underappreciating the restaurant people who churn out dishes at an insane speed, compared to how you’re cooking a relatively simple dish with little ingredients while needing all the help you can get. “Ah,” you hear a voice, “can I taste?” Before getting confirmation, the spoon is already in the pasta sauce and before you can scold him, the spoon is already in his mouth. “Hm, needs a little more spice, I think.” “Yeah? Well, you think wrong.” “What? You haven’t even tasted yet,” Wooyoung said, putting the spoon back on the counter. There’s a smirk on his face that your hands are itching to wipe off with a slap, and a blush on his cheeks that you know is not the effect of the hot weather. “The recipe doesn’t call for extra spices, thank you very much.” “What’s got you all upset?” “I’m not upset,” you bite back, proving the opposite. “Ah, it must be the period,” Wooyoung said, with an air of superiority. “Fuck you, Wooyoung.” You threw your own wooden spoon down into the pasta mixture, splattering both yourself and Wooyoung with the red sauce, before storming out onto the patio – only to find Rose standing, a gleeful smile on her face and a cigarette between her lips. She looked up instantly. “You look a little upset.” Her smile faded away as she stuck out her hand to you. “Need a drag?” You didn’t even bother responding, instead dealing with the embarrassment of having to go back through the kitchen to escape. When dinner is served, you can’t even muster up the faintest of smiles or feign happiness. At least what got you so upset wasn’t your period. And quite frankly, you were even angrier that Wooyoung thought it was okay to make such a joke, whilst normally being so attuned to girls’ feelings, especially yours. You hated the pasta, but you ate it anyway. You glanced over to where Wooyoung was seated, chatting excitedly to Seonghwa and Mingi, the left-overs of the splattered sauce staining his white shirt. You didn’t even feel remotely guilty. You were glad when dinner was finished, so you could commit yourself to working on another batch of soju-yogurt cocktail, this time without Wooyoung, since he was too busy in the sauna. Probably flirting with Rose, you thought to yourself as you grumpily got to work on the ingredients. San and Yeosang were right there with you; Yeosang because he knew how to make it and San because he evidently wanted to cheer you up. He kept saying cheesy jokes and poking your cheeks and then his own ‘to see if he could give you his dimples’. Every time you gave him an annoyed look, his smile made your heart flutter and your mouth shut. As the night progressed, you were aware you were drinking a bit too much of the mixture. Maybe a bit too much of any liquor, really, because by the time the clock struck 11 o’clock, you were already very close to quitting alcohol for the night, while Soojin was only on her second drink of the evening. “I’m going to get some air,” you said to no one in particular, before getting up and stepping outside, sliding the door closed behind you. Away from the stifling heat inside, the cool mountain air managed to cool you down enough to not sway on your feet as you threw your head back to look at the night sky. It was dotted with stars, only visible because you were so far away from cities and their light pollution. You were in the middle of deep contemplations about the universe, when you heard a noise. Oh no, not again, you thought to yourself, your head snapping down to look over the balustrade, down at the swimming pool. On the edge of it you could see two figures, barely visible in the darkness. But from what little light the porchlight shone on them, you could make out that it’s San – it’s unmistakably him. But who is with him? It takes a little more squinting and a moan before you make yourself rip away from the sight, stomping back into the house. You don’t even tell anyone that you’re heading up to bed. Only when you’re finally underneath the covers, you allow yourself to think about what you saw. Your long-time crush, Choi San, shoving his tongue down the throat of Kim Alice, someone you had always figured was rather harmless a person to have around. She didn’t speak much in big groups – kind of like you – but when she did, she was funny. She was a joy to be around, seemed to have a life devoid of problems, she was conventionally attractive… With a sigh you turned on your side, closing your eyes, willing yourself to fall asleep. But all you saw with eyes closed was San and Alice, kissing as if their lives depended on it.

Day 2 After you and Anna had put away the dirty plates and cutlery into the dishwasher and turned it on, everyone was about ready to leave for the lake. The morning had been off to a slow start but with the sun beaming down on everyone, scorching hot, they were all suddenly up and running. Their sudden energy was not the reason you left the cars at the house and instead walked through the significantly cooler forest to get to the lake. After all, according to Hongjoong, it’s not a far walk. The reason was solely to be able to drink. Jongho and Yeosang carried the cool box filled to the brim with drinks and meat, which was undoubtedly the heaviest thing to carry, while Daemi and Alice offered to carry the blankets to sit on. Everyone else was assigned their own towels and clothes to carry. You stayed at the back of the group with Mingi, who was positively hungover from the night before and had to stop every few minutes or so to clutch at his stomach and complain about how nauseous he felt. Needless to say, the two of you arrived only when Seonghwa had already started to set up ‘camp’, as he called it, and the others were already half-undressed and in the water. Soojin was in the midst of stripping off her sundress, convincing Alice to do the same. Both were trying to get Yunho to abandon his duties of helping Seonghwa lay down the blankets, for him to come swimming with them. Jongho and Yeosang, who had been in the front with Hongjoong, setting the pace and navigating, had already put the cool box down, Jongho in the process of taking off his pants. “Y/N,” Sooyoung appeared in front of you suddenly. “Do you want to come with us to the village? It’s just a ten minute walk, Hongjoong said, and it’s apparently really pretty. Maybe you can take some photos.” She gestured toward your film camera, a gift from Wooyoung for your last birthday. You had taken it with you to the lake, thinking you could get a lot of use out of it to capture the memories of the trip. “Sure, seems like fun,” you said. “Who’s coming?” You felt torn as Sooyoung told you it was just going to be you, Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Yeosang. On the one hand you were glad that San and Wooyoung were staying behind, as you weren’t sure you could handle having to deal with them for too long. On the other hand, you were a little torn on leaving them behind with Alice and Rose. You had to remind yourself they were nothing to you but your friends as you shrugged your heavy backpack off and gave Mingi a pat on the head before he threw himself down on the blankets. Even though he was groaning and being apologetic, no one believed he found it really terrible he could not come with. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were completely attached to Sooyoung, which caused you to stay with Yeosang. He was typically a very observant but quiet person; he noticed a lot but never said a thing about it. Imagine your surprise when he asked: “So, you were not having a great time last night?” “Was it that obvious?” you groaned. “Wooyoung told me you cursed at him. You know, he was joking about the period thing.” “I know. Doesn’t make it okay.” Yeosang turned semi-serious. “He hates it when you two fight.” “Has he told you that as well?” You were starting to lose your temper, which you did not want. After all, Yeosang had nothing to say about what Wooyoung was feeling, saying or doing. “No,” Yeosang said. “I just know. You’re his best friend, even though it might not seem like it sometimes. What were you mad about anyway?” You gnawed at your lip. The fact was, you weren’t entirely sure what you were particularly mad about. That he was fingering Rose on the patio while everyone could notice? That he was fingering Rose on the patio of all places? That he was fingering Rose to begin with? That it was Rose, of all people? And what reason did you have anyway to care about what Wooyoung was doing romantically or sexually? You were only friends. But if there was someone you could talk to this about, it would surely be Yeosang, right? Apart from you, he had known Wooyoung the longest. Before it was you and Yechan and Daemi, it had been you and Wooyoung and Yeosang. And even before that, it had been Wooyoung and Yeosang. That was before San had come in and essentially stolen Wooyoung away. It was before a lot of things. You sighed. “Well, when I was showering last night? Before dinner?” You mentally cringed at what you were about to say: “I heard some noises outside. I’m pretty sure – No, I’m 100 percent confident that it was Wooyoung and Rose going at it. If you know what I mean.” “I can guess,” Yeosang said. “And that bothered you, why?” “I never said it bothered me,” you said. Too defensive. “I don’t like Rose,” you admitted, knowing damn well it was not just that. From the look on Yeosang’s face, you could see he was thinking the same thing. And there was something else too... You were grateful and relieved when he left it at that, though. Instead, Hongjoong pointed you to a small café. Although it might be small, it was not characterless. There were few people inside that afternoon, leaving a lot of different cakes and pies for you and your friends to try out. As you waited for your order, you glanced around the café. It was covered in pink flowers, even the walls were painted pink. You saw what Hongjoong liked about it – it had a certain charm. One that apparently made Sooyoung feel like she had to excessively comment on everything in a squealy voice. You liked her, but her excitement was giving you headaches. Honestly, you were still feeling kind of miserable and sorry for yourself. Yeosang cheered you up by sharing the remainder of his chocolate-cherry cake with you when you had finished your own, knowing the best remedy for what you were feeling was food. While on your way back to the lakeside, Yeosang kept to your side, purposefully bringing up things you had done together where Wooyoung hadn’t been involved. The happy memories you had shared with Yeosang were plenty enough to make you smile again and by the time you arrived back to camp, you were genuinely in a good mood. “Y/N!” Yechan exclaimed as she saw you. “Come jump in! The water’s so good.” “Gotta set up the barbecue,” you said. “Sorry!” All of that was a lie. After all, you didn’t really have to set up the barbecue and there was Hongjoong already getting started on it. In all honesty, you just didn’t feel like joining the happy couples in the water. As soon as Seonghwa and Sooyoung had raced each other to the campsite, they had discarded their clothes and jumped in the water, engaging in a splash war against Jongho and Soojin. Alice was seated on San’s shoulders, battling Rose, who was on Wooyoung’s shoulders. You didn’t want anything to do with them. Instead you chose a soft spot on the blankets next to Mingi, who was sound asleep, Rose’s straw sunhat shading his eyes from the sun, relentlessly beating down. Yunho and Daemi were on his other side, playing a game of cards that Yeosang immediately joined, claiming it as his favourite game, although he then proceeded to ask what the rules were. You watched Hongjoong struggle with the barbecue for a while until you decided it was time to help him out of his misery. As he noticed you helping him, his face immediately brightened up. “What did you think? Of the café?” “It was great, Joongie,” you said, giving him your brightest smile. You actually meant it. “Thanks for taking us.” “Oh, don’t worry about it,” he said. “I just wanted you to have some fun.” With a sigh you leaned back to sit. “Is everyone just a mind reader now?” “No, I just overheard your conversation with Yeo on the way to town. Sorry about that. If you allow me to give you some advice – I think you should just be having fun and not letting something like that bother you. And anyway, I always thought you had a crush on San, not Wooyoung.” You looked at him, shocked. “What?” “You heard what I said. Hand me the coals, please.” You did as he said. “What do you mean I have a crush on San?” Joong shrugged. “It’s pretty clear from the way you behave around him that you do. Or maybe did?” He winked at you playfully. “I mean, why else would you be angry at Wooyoung for finally approaching Rose? You know he’s been talking about her for years now.” You didn’t know. Perhaps your friendship with Wooyoung was not as unconditional and carefree and honest as you always thought it had been. “Joongie, you’re not making me feel any better right now,” you said, your mind wandering off to his previous comment about you crushing on San. It was true that you liked him, there was nearly no denying it. But if Hongjoong knew, then did the others as well? “I don’t know, Y/N. I think you should just let loose and have some fun.” When the fire beneath the barbecue was finally going and Daemi took your place at it to grill chicken satay, you took her place at the card game. When the first batch of food was served, you woke Mingi to call for the others, still in the water. They were quick to join at the mention of food. Everyone gathered in a circle, smiling and laughing, but all you could do was stab at your food as you looked around the group, wondering who out of all of them knew of your crush on San, who, by the way, looked absolutely stunning with the water droplets on his naked chest glimmering in the afternoon sunlight, like little diamonds. You hated it. “Say ‘ah’.” You turned to look at Wooyoung, an apologetic smile on his face. “Ah?” “No, like this.” He widened his mouth and stuck out his tongue a little, dragging out the ‘ah’ longer. You rolled your eyes but followed his example, which was followed by Wooyoung putting a piece of meat on your tongue. You chewed on it, watching him as he sat down next to you. “Here. Have some more.” “My favourite,” you said, grabbing the plate from him. “Is this your version of a white flag?” “Yes,” Wooyoung said. “I’m sorry about the joke I made. Yeosang might have mentioned you really didn’t like it and I guess it’s a pretty assholey thing to say anyway. I don’t want to fight with you.” “I guess I have to apologize as well,” you said. “I’m not in the best mood and I’m taking it out on you. Among others.” You glanced over at San before focusing back on Woo. “I don’t want to fight with you either.” “Good.” Wooyoung stuck out his pinkie finger to you, as if you were kindergartners still. “Promise me that we won’t fight during this trip again.” “Just this trip?” you joked, curling your own pinkie around his. You’re just about to say something else, when a girl plops down on Wooyoung’s other side. You would recognize that blonde hair anywhere. “Got you pork belly, like you asked.” Rose handed a new plate to Wooyoung. “Hi, Y/N. Why didn’t you go swimming?” “I might swim after dinner,” you said, surprised she even talked to you. You were not so surprised to find out this was the only thing she was going to say to you, instead looking at Wooyoung, totally transfixed by him. You sighed, going back to stabbing at your food. At least there was no fighting with your best friend now. You’re glad when the drinking begins and you have an excuse to chug down liquor. You even go swimming for a bit, hanging around Yechan and Yeosang the most. It’s not long after evening falls that Soojin calls out for everyone to return to the farmhouse. You’re clinging onto your beer bottle on the way back, walking next to Yeosang, your arm linked through his. After all, he managed to majorly cheer you up and perhaps he could perform that same magic trick again. Back at the farmhouse, Mingi perked up enough from his massive hangover to call everyone to him for a beer pong match. With a little help of Anna, he set up teams of two to compete against each other. “Y/N and Yeosang, you begin! Against Yechan and Daemi.” As you took your place next to Yeosang, you realized it was obvious either Mingi or Anna had picked up on the tension in the house. You kind of wanted to convince Yeosang to cheat and purposefully lose the game, but when you saw his fanatism at landing the first ball in Daemi’s cup, you didn’t have the heart to tell him you didn’t want to play. He was just so smiley and happy… You convinced yourself that a) you wanted to win this game just as badly as he did and b) that you’re not absolutely shit at beer pong. The first opponents were luckily nearly as bad as you are at the game. Although the ball takes awfully long to land in the last cup, you and Yeosang still manage to defeat Yechan and Daemi. While the two of you are not up against anyone yet, you vow to yourself to get even more tipsy. It won’t help with aim but you were sure it would help your mood. It’s a fine line between tipsy and drunk and you were walking it with little care in the world. Your next opponents were Hongjoong and Jongho, who already proclaimed themselves Kings of Beer Pong. Only to be beat by you and Yeosang; turns out Hongjoong just had extreme luck playing against Seonghwa and Sooyoung, for his aim is honestly worse than yours, and Jongho can’t keep up against Yeosang, who deserves to officially be crowned King of Beer Pong. Yeosang’s so surprisingly good at the game that you’re not surprised when you win the finale round against Wooyoung and San. Overcome with emotions that you can’t properly explain and do not want to face and will probably never address ever again, you reached for Yeosang’s face, cupping it in your hands and pressing your lips against his. You felt a shock of surprise run through his body, but his hands effortlessly found your hips to steady you and kiss back. Despite the absence of butterflies or fireworks or any of the sorts, you become aware of how unaware you are of the sounds around you two. The only sound that’s coming through is Yeosang’s small moans and the sounds kisses tend to make. It doesn’t help that you’re both using an obscene amount of tongue, but you might be drunk and you don’t care – especially not that anyone or everyone is watching and cheering. When you pull away, you smile at Yeosang, who looks a little stunned but not unhappy about your actions. “Congratulations, King of Beer Pong,” you tell him. “Thanks, Queen.” He even has the liberty of squeezing your ass, earning him a yelp that broadens his smile. Take that, Woosan, you think to yourself. “Let’s get you another drink.” With his arm still around you, Yeosang guides you to the kitchen, away from prying eyes, both unaware that Mingi was ready to crown you both winners and offer you a prize. You couldn’t care less about what the prize was. The kitchen is completely empty except for a collection of trash and dirty plates and glasses. After clearing a space on the countertop, Yeosang picked you up with a surprising amount of strength and sat you down on it, then going to fix you a glass of water. “There you go.” “Water?” you complain. “Yeo-“ “No, you need to sober up a little,” he spoke in a tone of amusement. “I think you’re an amazing kisser and I really enjoyed that, but I also know that kiss wasn’t meant for me.” “Oh, are you going to tell me who the kiss was meant for then? Because, last I checked, my lips were on yours and not on anyone else’s. I think that was meant for you, Yeosang.” “Maybe,” he said, “but then with the intent of hurting someone else. Or whatever you thought you were doing back there. You’re not attracted to me.” “Says who?” you pull Yeosang closer to you by his shirt collar, capturing him between your legs. He looks profoundly comfortable in between them, but you know what he means when he says: “I do. You do, with your body language.” You rolled your eyes at him, setting the glass of water down next to you. “I’m not going to endure another talk about how in love I am with San and how everyone can tell.” “I wasn’t going to say you’re in love with San.” “Okay, Wooyoung then. Only because I was jealous he fingered Rose on the patio. The patio! That one over there!” You pointed at it for emphasis. “All of those feelings are not yours to comment on, Yeosang. Hongjoong.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he entered the kitchen rather innocently. “Wh-“ Hongjoong locked eyes with Yeosang and immediately his eyes widened. “I’m out of here right now. Sorry.” “Drink your water,” Yeosang said, giving you a little pat on the knee before following Hongjoong out of the kitchen. You sighed in frustration, grabbing the glass and bringing it to your lips. It actually tasted pretty nice to be drinking something as pure as water after all of the alcohol you had been consuming. Perhaps Yeosang was right and the kiss hadn’t been meant for him at all, not even a little bit. Perhaps you were just trying to make him jealous. And you weren’t quite sure which him you meant with that. Perhaps the him that came walking into the kitchen right at that moment, empty bottle of beer in hand. “Oh, have you come to lecture me too?” you said before he could even open his mouth – just one look was enough. “I’m sick of it.” “Well,” San said, “now that you mention it. Why did you kiss Yeosang?” “Why wouldn’t I? You have been all over Alice too, haven’t you?” “You really don’t understand, do you?” “Understand what?” There was a viciousness to your voice that made San shake his head. “I’m not going to argue with you while you’re still drunk.” “Yeah? Well-“ But you didn’t get a chance to say anything hurtful to him as he had already left the kitchen. With a sigh you chugged down the water, slid off the countertop and walked to your room. You could faintly hear all the noises in the living room, the partiers, but you were glad you weren’t there with them. This was not the fun trip you had planned for it to be.

Day 3 Even though Anna had planned something to do the day after, everyone was so hungover that no one really felt like going anywhere. You woke up first, quietly stepping over a snoring Yechan and trying not to wake a sleep-talking Daemi as you went to the single room across the floor to have a shower. This time without opening the window, even though you knew it was highly unlikely you would hear Wooyoung and Rose again. You went downstairs, made yourself breakfast, and by the time you had finished, the first people started coming down. The first was Jongho, followed by Soojin and Anna. Soon thereafter, Yunho and Daemi appeared as well, looking different states of dishevelled. There was still dried up spit in the corner of Yunho’s mouth. “Who’s up for a walk?” he excitedly said. No one felt like going, but you jumped up at the opportunity to be away from the farmhouse for a bit. Accompanying Yunho on his walk was quite peaceful. You never had a really close relationship with him as you did Wooyoung or Yeosang, but you were happy to be around him. It certainly helped that your surroundings were breath-taking, with views you could barely get enough of. It was so vastly different from what you were used to living in the city, that being at the farmhouse felt all the more special. You were reminded that this was partially why you had agreed to come on this trip; to see the beauty of the nature park. Not to get wound up in drama you yourself created by being… Well, was there a word for the way you were feeling? The way you were acting? It gave you some peace of mind walking with Yunho and realizing that he wasn’t going to break out in a lecture about not kissing Yeosang if you don’t like him, your everlasting crush on San, or whatever was going on with your friendship with Wooyoung. You had no desire to talk about any of that, but as you walked alongside Yunho, basking in the warm morning sunlight, it was the only thing you were thinking about. By the time you guys circled back to the farmhouse, the others were up already. Most were still yawning and staring at their untouched plates of eggs and bacon with sleep in their eyes, but Yeosang perked up as you came in. He nodded with his head to get you outside on the patio from which you had seen San and Alice kissing the first night. “I think I know what this is about,” you started. “Yeo, I was very drunk. It didn’t mean anything between us, at least not to me. I hope you understand.” “I-“ Yeosang started, but he was interrupted by someone you really didn’t want to see at this particular moment. “If you don’t like him, then why would you kiss him?” Wooyoung said, his arms crossing over one another in front of his chest. He stood leaning against the closed sliding door, obviously not understanding that this was a private conversation. Obviously not understanding that this was the last straw. “Okay, I’m done with this,” you said. “Normally I feel like I can be honest with you both but for the past few days-“ You sighed, not fully comfortable with sharing every thought you had, the things that had drove you to go bed so early in the night to mull over by yourself. “You know, I did it because I had something to prove. And besides, why is everyone so upset over this? San is always face sucking Alice whenever he can and you!” You had subconsciously moved closer to Wooyoung, now pricking his chest with your finger. “You did whatever with Rose out there and you didn’t even know that everything you did, I could perfectly hear. You’re both having so much fun with the girls here, but are so quick to scold me for wanting to do the same with Yeosang?” “That’s really not the same thing,” Wooyoung started. “Oh, and what makes it different?” “You’ve known Yeosang for years!” “You’ve known Rose for years. San has known Alice for years.” “It’s all not the same thing.” “Do I get a say in this?” Yeosang said, finally intercepting. Perhaps he had got quite uncomfortable with seeing Wooyoung and you so close to each other, staring each other down. You both broke away from each others’ gaze at the same time and spoke simultaneously: “No!” There was a silence and finally a sigh from Wooyoung. “Come find me when you think you can talk like a grown-up, yeah?” He didn’t even really sound mad, perhaps somewhere between defeated and disappointed. He tugged open the door and slammed it shut behind him. You waited for a second, not daring to look at Yeosang, before you followed Wooyoung inside. Instead of heading up the stairs behind him, you went into the kitchen and out onto the patio. There was no one out. You hoped for Yeosang that he was inside, since clouds had gathered above and there was a light drizzle coming down now. You let it cool your temper as well as your skin, thinking of the trip. You had looked forward to it for so long but it really wasn’t going as you had planned. Yes, you had joked with Daemi and Yechan that some crazy things would happen, claiming that Mingi would be the first one to throw up because of all of the alcohol (you were right about that) and that someone would accidentally throw someone in the pool while they still had their phones on them (hadn’t happened yet, but the trip wasn’t over). Daemi had bet that she would get into an argument with Yechan, Yechan had bet that she would catch Seonghwa and Sooyoung in a compromising position. The bet made about yourself had been that you would drunkenly act upon your crush on San. You had known when placing the bets with your friends that there was a very slim chance you would ever dare to approach San in that way and as you stood outside, overlooking the mountain area, you realised you didn’t want San anymore. Not the way you had always wanted him, at least. You used to think San was relationship material, the only guy you wanted to fulfil the need of having a boyfriend. But he wasn’t. He was perhaps too flirty, perhaps too much a person you could only look at from a distance and admire. He wasn’t boyfriend material. Just a friend. So what about Yeosang? Was that you drunkenly acting upon your hidden crush for him? Was that kiss because you liked him? Was he even boyfriend material to you? No. The answer was simple and clear, you didn’t even have to think about it. Yeosang was just one of your closest friends. He was sweet, really, and you would be lying if you said you had never thought about how it would have been if you were to date him. You were sure he harboured fond feelings for you as well, but those were probably along the same line as what you felt for him. Nothing romantic. After all, it was Yeosang, and you two had known each other for forever. You’d seen each others’ good and bad sides and you thought you knew what he would be like in a relationship. You’d seen his failed relationships play out in the past. You thought you had that figured out. So then that kiss… Who were you trying to prove something to? What were you even trying to prove? It was true what you had said, however. You were trying to prove to yourself that... Your mind flicked to the first night, when you had heard Wooyoung and Rose’s escapades. You were bothered about it, in a different way than what you had felt when you caught San and Alice. You replayed the fight you just had with Wooyoung in your head. What did he care what you were up to? You sat down on the small bench. It was wet now, washed clean by the rain; there was no way you otherwise would have sat down on it, considering what had happened a few days before. You rested your head against the wall of the farmhouse. Closing your eyes, you saw the look in Wooyoung’s eyes. You felt how close you had been standing to him. A knock on the patio door startled you. When you opened your eyes you saw Yeosang, eyes big and with two mugs on a tray. “Hey, Y/N… Can we talk? I brought hot chocolate.” “Sure,” you said, patting the spot next to you. Yeosang came outside, handing you the tray as he closed the door behind him. “What did you want to talk about?” “Well… I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. About anything.” This was clearly something that had been bothering him for a while, longer than everything that has gone on in the farmhouse. “Yesterday when you kissed me… I know why you did it and I know why you’ve been so upset these past couple of days. But I just wanted to clear things up so there’s no misunderstandings between us. And besides, I feel like I have lied to you all these years I’ve known you.” He took a deep breath, his hands wrapping around the mug. You saw he was shaking and his nails were bitten down. Maybe you hadn’t paid enough attention to his feelings, instead only rambling on about yours. “I guess I got a little upset this morning too. I hate seeing you and Wooyoung fight, for many reasons. But also because… because I am in love with Wooyoung.” “W-what?” “I like Wooyoung. Y/N… I’m gay.” “But, Yeo…” You bit your lip, wrapping your own hands around the mug. From everything he could’ve said, this was the least of what you had expected. “Wooyoung is… straight.” “I know, I know!” Yeosang quickly said. “I’ve always known I don’t have a chance with him. Not romantically. I’m fine being his friend, just his friend. You have to believe me.” He was still shaking however. “I also know that no matter what, I want to see him happy. And knowing what I know, you would realize that the Wooyoung he is around Rose? That’s not him being truly happy.” You frowned. “What are you trying to say?” “I mean that he’s more into you than he’s into Rose.” “What?” You shook your head. “Yeo, that’s not right. Wooyoung doesn’t like me like that. I mean, it’s pretty clear-“ “Why do you think that everyone is so upset with you kissing me?” Yeosang chuckled. “They might’ve thought you were into San, or now that you’re into me. But they know for sure that Wooyoung is into you. He’s told San and I that much before. And I think you like him back.” “How does everyone know that better than I do myself?” He shrugged. “I can’t speak for everyone, but… All these years of being in love with Wooyoung means I look at him more or less the same way he looks at you. And when you look at him? I see the same thing. You two are just oblivious to each other.” You finally took a sip of the hot chocolate, your thoughts aligning in your head to form a question: “So what does this thing with Rose mean? Why did he… finger her?” You realized how pathetic it sounded to ask. “I don’t know. That’s something you have to ask him yourself.” You nodded and then you turned to Yeosang again. “Yeo, thanks for telling me. I appreciate knowing that you trust me enough to.” You put your arm around him, pulling him into a side-hug like you used to do when you two were younger. “Who else knows?” “Only Hongjoong does.” “Of course,” you said. Joong had come out of the closet as bisexual about two years ago. It made sense Yeosang would want to go to him, knowing Hongjoong wouldn’t judge him. “Nothing changes, Yeo.” You hope Yeosang feels relieved, finally having that burden off his shoulders. You talk a little about how long he’s known and eventually Yeosang asks to leave the subject alone for now and go swimming instead. You are not one to deny him, so you head upstairs to get changed and meet him at the swimming pool. It’s empty except for Yechan and Seonghwa. Sooyoung and Soojin are on sunbeds on the side, but it’s clear the girls were fast asleep. The drizzle of before has stopped but the clouds have remained, however the temperature is climbing upwards as you’re in the pool. When you and Yeosang join, it breaks up the conversation between Yechan and Seonghwa, the latter of them suggesting to play a game instead. You team up with Seonghwa to even out the playing field and through multiple rounds of a handball-resembling game, you realise that it was futile because you and Seonghwa were bound to lose the second you agreed to teaming up together. The sun started going down while you were still hanging by the pool, wrinkled out like a raisin but enjoying the contrast between the cool water of the pool and the stifling heat of the overcast summer weather. You and Yeosang didn’t get out of the pool until Anna came to collect everyone for dinnertime. You’re happy sitting in between Yeosang and Mingi – who had remained in his room for the better part of the day, insanely hungover again and having emptied his stomach multiple times – as they talk over your head about this TV show they figured out they both had been watching. Having not changed out of your bikini for dinner, you are the first to get back into the water afterwards. It’s still warm outside, although it’s pretty much pitch black except for the porchlight. It’s bound to rain and you guess there will probably be thunder and lightning involved. After a moment, you’re joined in the water with Daemi and Yechan, and then Yunho and Mingi, and then San and Alice. As you float around, trying to avoid getting caught in the middle of Daemi-Mingi against Yechan-Yunho, you glance over at San and Alice. They were laughing at whatever joke they told each other, genuine happiness in their eyes, and you knew it didn’t matter that you thought you had a crush on San. He was obviously very happy with Alice. It didn’t matter. That feeling was amplified when you noticed Wooyoung, just a small distance behind San and Alice, kicking around a ball with Jongho. You were about to look away when you saw him glance over and shoot you a smile. Despite your fight, you smiled back. Maybe this was the right time to make up. You nodded your head in the direction of the trampoline, farther our into the field behind the farmhouse. It was too dark to see out by the trampoline, even with the porchlight, so no one went there at night. It was the perfect spot. Wooyoung nodded, kicked the ball back to Jongho and said: “I’ll be right back. Go annoy Hongjoong, he looks bored.” You both laid down on the trampoline in silence, staring up at the sky. Clouds were chasing each other and there was a low rumble in the distance. Thunder. “I’m sorry about how I reacted,” you said, knowing to speed this up. You had known Wooyoung since you two were little and he was still scared of thunder and lightning. By now he had grown up more and also matured – he had told you he still was a little scared, but at least he saw the beauty in the violence of Mother Nature. “Me too.” “I just didn’t want to see Yeosang get hurt.” You were hit suddenly with the realisation that Wooyoung had no idea about Yeosang’s sexuality, or his crush on him. You wouldn’t tell him, because it was up to Yeosang to tell, and that meant that you couldn’t say that it didn’t matter you had kissed Yeosang, because of obvious reasons. Instead you said: “Yeo and I discussed it earlier today. We’re not mad at each other or anything. And I figured this was the best possible time to be honest with you.” “About what?” “About…” you sighed lightly. “About that I might… like you?” “You like me?” Wooyoung sounded no longer like himself, but a little more choked up, his tone of voice very serious. Was he angry at you for sharing this? For fucking up your friendship? You hadn’t even considered the consequences to your friendship, or what any of this would do to your dynamic between you two and Yeosang. “I guess?” “You guess or you know?” “I don’t know. I think I do. Everyone tells me I do.” “Well, if you don’t know, then I cannot tell you that I like you too.” Now it was your turn to feel stunned. “What?” You had been told by Yeosang, of course, but that was different. Now you heard it right from the source, from Wooyoung himself. “I like you too.” “But I thought you were more into Rose,” you said. “I mean, you two… out on the patio… I thought you were more into her.” Wooyoung shrugged, making the whole trampoline wiggle. “She’s pretty. I- Okay, I have shared so much with you before but it feels so weird saying it now.” He let out an awkward laugh before he said: “I just felt horny. You know? And Rose was there and she was horny too and she’s not a sight for sore eyes, so I thought: what’s so bad about this? I didn’t know you were showering right above us, or that you had the window open. Otherwise I would’ve probably taken her somewhere else. Or not done it at all.” “You were just horny?” you repeated. Wooyoung nodded, the trampoline shaking again. “So no feelings for Rose then?” “Nope,” he said, letting the p pop. “Nothing serious. Not like the way I feel for you.” You moved over closer to him, shakily reaching out for his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it sooner. Then we wouldn’t have had to fight.” “I should’ve told you the second I knew,” he said, taking your hand in his and squeezing it lightly. “So what made you realise? I knew you liked San-“ You blushed, which fortunately, he could not see. “Can we not talk about San right now? I mean, yes, I had a crush on him, but it was silly. I mean, I liked him when we were still in high school, you know? He was the guy every girl had a crush on and I guess I just jumped on the bandwagon. And I always thought it would be easier to hook up with him because we were already friends, but that just makes it more difficult. And I don’t know him as well as I know you. I just don’t feel what I think you’re supposed to feel when you’re in love – with him. I never noticed the way I feel about you, though, until I compared my feelings for you to what I feel for San or Yeosang.” “Well, you’d best believe it was torture to see you kissing Yeosang, not knowing what you were truly feeling.” “Would it be better if I kissed you instead?” And with no further words, you bridged the distance between the two of you, softly kissing his lips. Where your kiss with Yeosang had primarily taken place because you were drunk and trying to make whoever else jealous, the way you had been jealous all throughout the trip, this kiss served an entirely different purpose. It was strange too, kissing Wooyoung, whom you had known for so long and never imagined you would harbour romantic feelings for. But there was a spark, a spark that caught and ignited a flame inside of you. A flame that apparently burned inside of Wooyoung as well, for he pulled you infinitely closer, until you were on his lap. It was very uncomfortable on that trampoline, and you were glad when a dizzyingly bright flash of lightning followed by deafening thunder caused Wooyoung to yelp. “Let’s go inside,” you said, hopping off the trampoline and pulling Wooyoung with you. As you walked back, your hand in his, he bent down a little to whisper in your ear: “Come to my room tonight, yeah? Take your film camera.” And so you did. After everyone had gone to bed, you sneaked out of yours to cross the floor to the room Wooyoung shared with San.

Day 4 The room smelled of boy. And not just any boy. You glanced around in the darkness, the first thing that stuck out to you being Shiber. San had brought his cuddle toy to this trip? You wondered for a second what Alice would think of her having to share the bed and San with Shiber, until you realized that she wasn’t there. You shut the door after yourself, blocking out the light from the hallway to prevent San from waking up, instead going over to Wooyoung. You set your film camera down on the night stand and when you turned to look at Woo, he was already sitting up in the bed. “There you are,” he said. He sounded surprisingly relieved. “Did you think I wasn’t going to show up?” Wooyoung didn’t answer but instead pulled you onto the bed, blindly placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss. Instantly, it clouded your mind with desire for him. Your head spun as he pulled you on top of him. You gasped as he let himself fall backwards onto the bed, allowing him to slip his tongue inside of your mouth. It was almost obscene – how good of a kisser Wooyoung was, how his tongue softly tapped against yours, how his hands slid down from your face to the hem of your pyjama shorts, slipping his hands under the fabric and onto your ass. You groaned into his mouth as his hands knead your ass, pulling you closer to him. Wooyoung pulled back only a little bit, but you hated the moment, his voice slightly breathless as he said: “Don’t be too loud. San might wake.” You glanced over to the other bed and yelped to find San already sitting upright, Shiber wrapped in his arms, just staring at you. “What the fuck!” you exclaimed. “I’m already awake,” San said. Wooyoung pushed himself up on his elbows. “Have you just been… listening to us? Watching us? The whole time?” San shrugged. “It was kind of hot. Maybe next time you’ll allow me to join in.” You looked at Wooyoung for a second, exchanging a glance. There was an unspoken conversation within that glance, a result of many years of friendship in which you had been a unit, had had an unbreakable bond. And now all of that was transforming into whatever this was, and someone was asking to partake in this same adventure with you? You gulped as you realized what you were seeing in Wooyoung’s eyes. “Fuck,” you muttered. And you nodded. “San, come here,” Wooyoung said, his voice an octave deeper. San was quick to throw Shiber aside and make his way over to you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him move this fast, although he was as quick to come to a halt at the side of the bed. You felt your breath hitch as Wooyoung grabbed San’s shirt in his hand and pulled him closer, essentially making San topple over on the bed as he lost his balance. “I think Y/N hasn’t had enough love this trip. If you know what I mean.” You gulped, not entirely knowing what to say. The boy you were currently into and the boy you had always been harbouring a crush on were on the bed together with you and it was pretty clear what was going to happen now. You felt a familiar wetness, synchronic with San nodding to Wooyoung’s statement. “I think we should give her whatever she wants, don’t you agree?” San nodded again. Wooyoung then turned to you: “Tell us what you want us to do.” For a moment you were about to ask for what you had always lusted after, which was a filthy, intense make out session with San. But right now, looking at him – his shirt crumpled in the place Wooyoung had pulled him in, his hair messy from having been in bed earlier, his plump lips slightly parted and with a small tent visible through his pyjama pants – you knew what you wanted to see. And still it even surprised you a little when you said: “Kiss each other.” San’s head shot around to look at Wooyoung, physically below the both of you but in some other way he was dominating you both. “Is that okay?” Wooyoung leaned up only a little bit to put his hand on the back of San’s head and pull him in, their lips locking. Right off the bat there was tongue involved. You were well aware that you were staring, and well aware that there was no one to catch you staring as San increasingly got more comfortable and seemed more into the kiss. “Slowly,” you instructed. “Slowly.” They listened as if they were puppets, entirely under your control. The kiss was somehow more heated now that they weren’t hungrily clawing at each other. You thought to yourself how this couldn’t be real life. Just a couple of days ago you had been wanting San as badly as ever, then you had thought him to belong to Alice, and now he was here. Let alone the entire situation with Wooyoung – how just a few hours ago you had still been angry with him for fingering Rose on the patio. But that was something you didn’t want to think about at that moment. “Woo, strip San for me, please.” Wooyoung listened well – he helped San lift his arms above his head and proceeded to take off his shirt for him, tossing it aside. Next were San’s pants. It took a bit more effort to strip those and then get rid of his boxers too. “San, your turn,” you said. There was no shame visible in Wooyoung, who seemed utterly comfortable with stripping as well. They were still kissing, albeit a little bit more clumsy now San was trying to take Wooyoung’s pyjama’s off. It had never occurred to you that perhaps San wasn’t all that confident and experienced as you had taken him to be. Perhaps he had only been truly intimate with a handful of people. Perhaps this was a first for him – the first time he had a threesome. You couldn’t say you had any experience in this department either. “Woo-“ you started, but the instructions you were about to give him stuck in your throat as Wooyoung ripped himself free off San and said: “Aren’t you going to get undressed, baby?” Your mouth almost fell open in an o-shape at the pet name. You had never heard Wooyoung call anyone by a pet name. Let alone be the one to be called one by him. “Sorry.” You felt like you had to say sorry. Why? You weren’t sure. “San?” San, who visibly wasn’t entirely sure what was going on but was along for the ride regardless, scooted over so he could reach for you. He was less clumsy with you, but you weren’t sure if you had to attribute that to past experiences with girls or to not being engaged in a wild make out session with you. Which quickly changed as your lips smashed together. Now the three of you were all fully naked, everything that was uncomfortable or awkward about the situation seemed to ebb away. You wrapped your arms around San’s neck, pulling yourself up a little bit so you could rub yourself on him. You couldn’t remember how long it had been since you had started crushing on him, but you had had some fantasies and wet dreams about San before. Admittedly, you’d had them about Wooyoung too. You felt his hands sneak in between San and you and jumped a little from the sudden sensation of Wooyoung’s thumb against your clit. You were sure his other hand was wrapped around San’s shaft – there was no other explanation for the sudden noise that erupted from the boy, your kiss temporaily stopping. “What do you want me to do, baby?” Wooyoung’s soft voice sounded. “Hm-“ You didn’t trust yourself to be able to properly tell him what you wanted, so instead you let go of San to kiss Wooyoung instead. San chased after you, attaching his lips to your neck. The confidence he gained made you groan into Wooyoung’s mouth as San nibbled and licked and sucked, sure to leave marks behind. There were noises from San as well, noises that were only explainable by Wooyoung moving his hand on San. It occurred to you that this was every girls’ dirtiest fantasy and you weren’t taking one second for granted. You let Wooyoung push you back onto the bed, which was in no way able to fit three people in it, but you somehow made it work. You were glad Wooyoung didn’t need any verbal instructions; softly pushing his head down, in the direction of where you needed him most, was enough. He went to work, expertly licking and sucking. It nearly made you fold in on yourself from the sheer pleasure he was giving you, but you were too busy tending to San’s proud erection, oozing precum from Wooyoung’s earlier ministrations. You wrapped your lips around him, working your mouth in a way that was sure to earn San’s approval – it was audible in his moans and groans, ones you gave back to him from Wooyoung’s actions. San was the first to succumb. The pleasure rendered him nearly unable to speak, but you understood the little taps on your cheek well enough. You didn’t pull away however, allowing San’s cum to fill your mouth. And you swallowed. San seemed just about spent, but he didn’t leave you hanging. Instead, he went to work on your neck again, his hands coming up to cup your boobs. San didn’t have to do much for Wooyoung had done most of the work on getting you to your high. You came with a high-pitched moan; there was a certain shyness overtaking you at the sound you hadn’t previously thought you could make. You were panting, admiring Wooyoung and your glistening juices on his lips as he came up. There was very little to no talking as you motioned for him to come closer. The sudden urge overcame you – you couldn’t explain what had triggered it. You pushed yourself up just a little bit, in a way that wouldn’t disturb San, as you pulled Wooyoung just a little bit closer, your tongue darting out to lick Wooyoung’s lips, getting a taste of yourself. “What about you?” you asked tracing your hand down Wooyoung’s chest, down his happy trail, to his cock. “What do you want? Tell me.” “San-ie,” he said. San looked up from his work on your neck, his eyes slightly hazy. “I want you… to suck me.” That was the first time you saw Wooyoung seem even just a little bit fazed by the situation, instead of looking like he had everything under control. “And Y/N, baby… kiss me.” You gave San a quick kiss on his lips before coming up onto your knees so you could reach Wooyoung better. There was equal part of kissing and moaning from Wooyoung’s side – he was a lot more vocal than you had expected. The part of Wooyoung that was moaning mirrored the part of you that wanted him inside of you, but tonight was not the night. Instead, tonight was the night Wooyoung grabbed your film camera from his night stand and, in the dark, figured out how to take photos of you and San, coated in Woo’s cum. Yes, tonight was the night Wooyoung coated both you and San in cum – and then went to clean it up himself with San’s T-shirt from the floor. “Woo,” San complained, but you both heard quite clearly that his heart wasn’t in it. “Ssh.” Wooyoung pressed a kiss against San’s forehead and then to yours. “Let’s go to sleep.”

The bed really was too small for three people. You had thought it the night before and you were proven right the next morning, when you woke up to a yelp from a distraught San – he had fallen off the bed. He was disgustingly handsome, but your heart didn’t flutter the way it had before. What had remained the same, however, was the heat in your cheeks at the memory of what you got up to the night before, the evidence right there on San’s T-shirt, which he had picked up off the floor with a disgusted expression. “I probably won’t be able to wear this ever again. Damn you, Wooyoung.” You were surprised to find Wooyoung awake already too, one of his arms folded behind his head. His eyes had been closed before, which lead you to believe he was still asleep, but the smile that played on his lips was unmistakably one of someone who was awake and heard every word of what San had just said. You watched as San strode across the room and threw his T-shirt in the trash can behind the door. “I’m taking a shower,” he announced, leaving you and Wooyoung in the bed by yourselves as he closed the door behind him. Wooyoung’s eyes stayed closed, his smile having slightly faded. You pushed yourself up on one elbow and looked at Wooyoung, really looked at him. You had known him for so many years, had gone on so many adventures with him… This was the next big adventure. You reached out, doing something you had always thought of doing but never felt confident enough to. You traced his finely shaped eyebrows, the curve of his eyes… You trailed your finger down his cheeks to rest at the corner of his lips. You were about to carefully trace his lips, full and relaxed, when Wooyoung suddenly snapped his teeth at your finger. “Woo!” you complained, pouting at him. His eyes were open now, the brown highlighted to several shades of gold in the narrow stroke of sunlight from the window. By the way the sun shone into the room, you could see it was nearing noon. Although in that case, it wasn’t exactly morning anymore, this was by far the best morning you had spent at the farmhouse. “Why did you do that?” You let your finger fall back to his lips and this time he let you trace them, his warm breath hitting your skin. When you let his lips alone, opting to crawl into his embrace instead, you said: “San joined us last night…” Stating the obvious. Great. “Was it good?” Wooyoung asked, his hand coming up to play with your hair. “Yeah. I liked it.” “Me too.” You could hear from his tone of voice – delicious, delicious morning voice – that he was smiling. “I hope San had a good time too. But next time I want you all to myself.” You felt your heart flutter at his words. There was a next time and that next time would consist of you and Wooyoung exploring each other. You were absolutely certain that this was the best morning at the farmhouse – you felt like the happiest girl on earth. You didn’t know what to say, so instead you just hummed in agreement. “Would you like me to bring you breakfast?” Wooyoung asked after a while. “Eggs and sausages,” you said. “Ooh, making demands now? Actually using your words?” He chuckled and tapped your shoulder, signalling you to get up so he could move. You pushed yourself up and watched as Wooyoung got out of bed. With his back toward you, you saw his muscles stand out as he bend to pick up his shirt off the floor. The room was a mess. “Any preferences for your breakfast beverage, milady?” You grinned. “The finest tea you serve, milord.” “Of course.” He bowed before making his way out of the room. As you were left alone in Wooyoung’s bed you tried to wrap your head around the events of the night before. Coming to the farmhouse you had never expected that this was the way you would end the trip. You hadn’t even suspected anything remotely like this would happen. You got out of bed, dressing yourself in the clothes from the night before, before crossing the room to open up the window. You had just crawled back into bed, sitting up with your back against the wall, when San came back, his hair wet and a towel hung lowly around his waist. He closed the door behind him and got to getting dressed as you watched him. The silence between the two of you was palpable but nonetheless quite comfortable. You wouldn’t know what to say anyway. “I didn’t mean to insert myself,” San suddenly spoke up, sitting down on the edge of his bed, clutching Shiber to his chest, “in between you and Woo. I know it was all quite new to you both.” You shrugged, leaning your head against the wall. “We both wanted it. You didn’t insert yourself in at all. Was it good?” you couldn’t help yourself asking. San nodded, his cheeks turning pink. “I hadn’t expected it.” “Believe me, me neither.” You looked at the way San was playing with Shiber’s tail. “It was really new to us,” you then said, surprising the both of you. “I mean, we were friends. And now we’re more.” “I think everyone saw it coming.” “I don’t think so,” you said, shaking your head. “You know, I was always crushing on you.” “You were?” San looked up, stopping his playful antics with Shiber. “I didn’t notice.” You nodded. “It was a long time crush. But there’s a difference between crushing on someone and loving someone. I realised that because I watched you and Alice.” There was no response to the mention of Alice. You found you didn’t really care. San resumed playing with Shiber, but his eyes stayed trained on you. “So why Yeosang?” “Vengeance.” You knew how terrible that sounded but there was no other word for it. “He was… there. I know it’s wrong. But I needed to know why I felt so jealous of Rose.” With a sigh you let yourself fall sideways onto the bed. “Now I do. And now I know why I don’t love you. Not in that way.” The door opened to reveal Wooyoung carrying a tray, a literal mountain of food on the plate that he carried, a tea pot and three cups next to it. “Breakfast!” He set the tray down on the floor, and despite the mess that was the room, the three of you crowded around the tray to eat the breakfast Wooyoung had prepared. The idyllic bubble of Woosan’s room had to be broken some time. You regretted stepping foot out of the room the second you did it, but you felt dirty so you wanted to shower, and besides that, you had to pack up the rest of your belongings to return home. You got into the shower, the same one you had been in the first day. The window was cracked open, letting in the sounds of nature and summer. You shut your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the water scorching your body. Yechan was waiting for you in your bedroom when you got back to pack up. “I know where you went last night. I’m glad I didn’t have to hear it. I know Seonghwa and Sooyoung had a front row seat though.” She smiled. “So, you have to tell me all the details. How was your first threesome?” “Yechan!” you covered your face with your hands. “I’m not going to talk about this with you.” “Okay, maybe without details, then,” she said. “At least tell me you had a good time.” You lowered your hands a little bit to look at her. Your best friend, with you through everything… “It was really good.” You bit your lip at the excitement that erupted from Yechan. Her happiness rubbed off on you, though, and soon enough you were, despite yourself, telling her just a few details. Like San having to throw out his shirt afterwards. You left out the pictures Wooyoung took of you and San. Those were private. “Are you in a polyamorous relationship now?” she asked, her eyes wide and genuine. You shook your head. “I don’t think so. I think it’s just me and Woo.” Yechan nodded. “That’s good too.” She took your hand and softly squeezed, her smile saying more than words ever could.

The next person you had to talk to was Yeosang. You were carrying your bags out to the car when he popped up beside you. “Let’s go on the trampoline,” he said. You nodded, following him across the backyard to the trampoline, overlooking the vineyard. It was better in the day than it was last night. The little kids in you jumped out by the way you nearly toppled over each other to get onto the trampoline, performing tricks as you jumped. After a bit you let yourself fall down, out of breath. “Yeo, I need to tell you something,” you said and he stopped jumping as well. “I had s-“ “Sex with Wooyoung. I know,” he said. “You do?” Okay, perhaps you weren’t right to be surprised he knew. If you had to believe Yechan, the three of you hadn’t been very quiet. “I mean- San was there with us too.” “I know. I heard everything,” Yeosang sat down on the trampoline now too. “The walls are pretty thin, you know.” “I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry that I heard?” You chuckled. “Yes, that too. But also that I did that. Now that I know you like him-“ “It doesn’t matter,” Yeosang said, turning his head to look up at the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. “He’s not into guys anyway and I know how much you two like each other. I haven’t been completely blind over the last couple of years, you know? I’ll find someone that likes me like that and that I’ll like back. I’m fine with what happened. Don’t worry about me.” “If you’re so sure,” you said, looking up at the sky too. “I just feel guilty.” “Don’t.” Yeosang reached over and grabbed your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “Just know that Rose also heard and she’s crazy upset with you two.” You sat up, looking over at him. “Just about how many people have heard every single second of last night?” “How many people are with us on the trip?” Yeosang started counting on his fingers. “So 13. Except maybe Mingi. He was out cold. That makes 12.” “Jesus Christ,” you swear. And you do so again when you return to the farmhouse to find Rose already storming out to find you. Apparently someone had told her you and Yeosang were hanging out on the trampoline. There’s a look in her eyes that you’re not sure you ever want to see in anyone’s eyes ever again. It speaks of all-consuming anger. “Rose-“ you start. And that’s also where you end. She didn’t even take the time or effort to talk it out. Her first reaction was violence. You had always jealously compared Rose’s visuals to that of an angel, but the way she lashed out at you proved she was all but that. “You slut!” she shrieked, her nails finding a hold in your skin. You barely felt the pain as she raked her nails down your face. You had never thought of yourself as a violent person, but you also weren’t the person to back down from someone attacking you like this. Your pent up frustrations were threatening to spill out of you in a violent manner, but before you could do much damage to her, Mingi’s strong arms wrapped around you, picking you up as if you weighed absolutely nothing, carrying you away as Jongho did the same to Rose, who was now clawing at him. Mingi set you down on the countertop of the downstairs bathroom, checking you for injuries like the worried big brother he always acts like towards you. “You’re bleeding.” He grabbed tissues for you to hold against the wound, as if that would help much. Silly, hungover Mingi. “She has sharp nails,” you said, wincing as you pressed the tissues against the marks. Wooyoung came storming in, carrying a white box with a red cross on it. “First aid!” he said, to which Mingi nodded and left. You bet he knew why Rose had got violent with you too. “I didn’t know she was going to do that,” Wooyoung said, opening up the first aid kit. “It’s fine,” you said. “Did I at least fight her off a little bit?” He laughed. “God, that that’s the first thing you’re thinking about… Here, you’re bleeding.” He got to work, cleaning up the scratches Rose’s nails left behind on your face and arm. His fingers were soft on your skin, leaving behind a trail of heat. Even though you hadn’t known him to be very skilled with cleaning up wounds and bandaging up injuries, he was doing quite a good job. Better than Mingi would have done, had this been his job to do. “And the way you stood your ground was pretty hot, Y/N.” You chuckled. “You’re just saying that.” You looked at Wooyoung as he took expert care of you, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration, a habit you had always loved about him. You realized suddenly how blind you had been all along not to notice him, or his love for you. You had never actively fantasized about Wooyoung in a sexual way, although you had sometimes wondered what it would be like to have a romantic relationship with him. In your mind it had never worked out, whereas a relationship with San would seem the most plausible. He had always been the one boy you thought you would end up with, if it was going to be anyone out of the friend group. Everyone had known each other for varying lengths and with different intensities, something which had never lead you to believe that you and Wooyoung would be a good match. “What are you looking at?” Wooyoung asked, chuckling, throwing away the stuff he had used to clean and bandage your wound. “You,” you said, no trace of shyness. “Like what you see?” Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows, his classic playfulness erasing what you had felt over the past couple of days, leaving only behind what you had always thought to be simple, platonic feelings for your best friend. But now you knew it was more. You shrugged. “I think you could do better, but this’ll have to do.” You stuck out your feet, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer. “Thanks for stitching me up.” “I’m sorry about Rose,” he said, his arms coming to rest around your waist. “Take the same car as me back?” “So you can finger me in the backseat while no one notices?” You chuckled at the surprise on his face. Must be due to your sudden dirty mouth. “No, thanks. I’ll ride with Yunho and Jongho. But maybe we can see each other when we get back? Get lunch, or dinner… Go out on a real date…” “A real date.” Wooyoung nodded. “Sounds wonderful.”

Alternative scene How the ‘morning after’ would have had gone, had I decided to stick with the shower Woosan x reader threesome I had originally planned to happen after the initial Wooyoung x reader sex scene

The room smells. Of what you’re not entirely sure, but it’s sour and makes your nose crunch up as you slowly open your eyes, only to find Wooyoung next to you. His dark brown hair was curling up at the ends and his mouth was slightly open, his chest bare. You had managed to wrap most of the blankets around yourself, leaving Wooyoung uncovered. Not just his chest was bare. You draped the blankets over him and in the process, noticed you were only wearing a T-shirt. That’s it. Just a T-shirt. When you glance underneath the covers, you see it’s Woo’s, one you got together while he was shopping for his First Date T-Shirt, nearly 4 years ago now. You smiled to yourself at the memory and turned onto your back. That’s when you realize that it wasn’t just you and Wooyoung in the room. “San!” You pull up the covers again to cover yourself, even though there’s no bit of you left uncovered. He’s casually resting on his bed, eyes trained on you and Wooyoung in the bed. “Good morning. What a coincidence I catch you here. Morning, Woo.” “San,” Wooyoung groans out from next to you. He seems utterly unfazed to see you laying next to him. He must know you’re wearing nothing but his T-shirt. You also reckon San must know what has happened between you and Wooyoung. “Aren’t you supposed to complain about your headache?” “I think throwing up prevented my headache,” San said, pointing at a bucket at his side of the room, standing half under half next to his bed. You guessed that was what the sour smell was all about. “Aren’t you two supposed to be even a little bit ashamed that you two had steamy, hot sex while I was literally in the same room with you?” “I just seized the opportunity,” Wooyoung said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you against him. “And you were asleep.” “Apparently not,” San said. “I was miserable, though. Maybe next time you decide to fuck each other again, you could invite me.” “Oh, shut up,” you said, hiding your face in Woo’s chest. This is really just way worse than seeing San and Alice kissing on the edge of the swimming pool or Wooyoung fingering Rose while you’re in the shower. This is humiliation of a different kind. “Why were you actually listening to us?” Wooyoung said. San shrugged. “Like I said, I was miserable. Couldn’t sleep, especially not with those sounds. Disgusting. What would Rose say?” That remark landed him with Wooyoung’s pillow in his face. “Okay, yes, that was slightly mean. Sorry. Will it make you feel better if I say it was kind of hot though? Like, I don’t know what you did that made Y/N go like-“ He made a noise that landed him with your pillow in his face. “Okay, yes, shouldn’t have said that. But! Promise me next time you won’t let me get so drunk I won’t be able to join in, yeah?” “Would you actually want to join?” you said. You weren’t sure if you were completely disgusted by this morning conversation with San, or if you were getting turned on again. You also weren’t entirely sure if you would have had Wooyoung pin you down underneath him if you had known San was in the bed opposite. “Could be hot,” Woo said. “Honestly, it’s been on my to-do list,” San said. “A threesome with someone who claims himself to be a sex god and also the hottest girl from high school? I wouldn’t say no to that.” “You tell others you’re a sex god?” you laughed at Wooyoung who turned a suspicious shade of pink.

#wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung smut #yeosang x reader #yeosang imagine #yeosang smut #san x reader #san imagine #san smut #kpop x reader #kpop imagine #kpop smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagine #ateez smut #my writing

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goneseriesanalysis · 3 years

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Astrid Ellison

So here are my opinions on Astrid Ellison from book 1. Astrid was the character on which my opinion changed the most, which is why it’s taken me so long to get my thoughts together. Sorry for the length again but it seems I have a talent for ✨rambling✨

Spoilers for Gone by Michael Grant down below

Original Opinion: Astrid was one of my least favourite characters. I remember finding her irritating and self-righteous and honestly couldn’t think of a single good thing to say about her.

New Opinion: Astrid was my favourite character in this book. She had moments where I found her slightly irritating - but I think that was Michael struggling to right a smart character more than anything else. She was so kind and brave and not at all like the emotionless and manipulative girl that I remember hating at the grand age of 14.

1.) Astrid’s appearance - Astrid is one of the better described characters in Gone. In the first chapter we find out that she “had shoulder-length blonde hair, and liked to wear starched white short-sleeved blouses that never failed to catch Sam’s eye.” This description immediately establishes her as Sam’s love interest, from her being the first character to get a proper description to Sam’s clear infatuation with her. This is perhaps one of the reasons why I’m not a huge fan of their relationship – it was obvious from page 3 that they were going to end up together. We get three other main descriptions of Astrid throughout the book that really stood out to me:

“Her normally sharp, discerning blue eyes were wide, with way too much white showing” – Chapter 1

“She sat in the big white wicker rocker with her feet propped up on the railing. Her bare legs were blazing white in the sunshine.” – Chapter 20

“The starched white blouses of the pre-FAYZ had given way to t-shirts” – Chapter 28

What really stood out to me in these descriptions is the repeated use of the colour white. Now, in religion white is symbolic of faith, innocence and sacrifice, all of which really seem to fit the characterisation of Astrid. She has a lot of faith in the beginning, not only in God but also in herself. She is relatively confident in who she is and in her place in the world. As the book continues, however, she begins to lose this faith. As she sacrifices more of her time to the care of Little Pete (I really don’t like how Michael constantly treated him as a burden but that is a topic for another post), she becomes less and less confident in her faith and begins to resent what she has become.

As for Astrid’s innocence, I believe this is more of an insight into how Sam views her as opposed to how she actually is. Astrid is intelligent and brave and caring (although a lot of the time I think she struggles to show it) – but is she innocent?? I don’t think so, at least not in the traditional sense. She has grown up as a parent, been forced to mature faster than other children her age. She is Little Pete’s constant defender, and I think in this way Sam underestimates her. As the book continues, he begins to see this, with her staple white blouses transforming into t-shirts, he begins to see her for who she is.

2.) Astrid’s Personality and Character - Aside from Astrid’s intelligence and religious beliefs, Astrid has a very well-rounded personality. She is brave and kind-hearted but seems somewhat socially inept, meaning that the softer side of her personality is often hidden by her cool exterior. (I think there is a possibility that Astrid is autistic-coded but I don’t know enough about the topic to develop this point past mere observation). She takes on the role of a mother to Little Pete and this calmer, kinder, and more protective side of Astrid is often shown in small moments throughout the books. Astrid is the first person to offer comfort to Quinn when he realises his parents are missing, and it is only once she does this that Quinn finally allows himself to fall apart (Chapter 2). She places a hand on his shoulder and for the first night is the one who hears out Quinn’s wild theories, instead of shooting them down (cough cough Sam).

Her relationship with Little Pete is a complicated one. While she often seems resentful about her new position as a guardian, it feels like her resentment towards Little Pete is a way for her to mask her anger at things that are beyond her control. She is furious that the FAYZ has left her without parents, and is even more furious because she can’t truly understand why it has happened. So, to stop these feelings of helplessness, she targets her resentment towards the person she is closest do (as most of us unfortunately do when we feel this way). But despite her anger, her unconditional love always wins out. And this is one of the things I absolutely adored about her when re-reading. Despite her often feeling trapped by her new role in Little Pete’s life, she is still willing to distance herself from Sam, Edilio and Quinn (who are, as far as we know, the closest thing she has to friends) in order to keep him safe. She realises that Little Pete caused the FAYZ in chapter 11 and, even when Sam confronts her, her first move is to defend LP – she is not concerned with what they think of her, only with the safety of her brother.

Further on in the book, after Drake forces her to call Little Pete a slur, she is horrified with herself. She gives almost no thought to the pain she went through stating that “now she was far more angry at herself than she had ever been at him.” I think this really just shows how devoted Astrid is to her brother and, when you remember that she is only 14 it really is amazing how strong she forces herself to be for him. I began to notice on this read through just how much she neglects her own emotions and wellbeing in favour of protecting others (she even shields LP with her own body when the church collapses on top of them and we get no indication as to how injured SHE is). Once again her thoughts are only on her brother. While I wish she had made more of an effort to communicate with Little Pete in a way that he could understand (the few times she does this in the book, he does respond well and it would have been interesting to develop this side of their relationship more, rather than just the one sided protector/protected dynamic), when you think about her age and the trauma that she must be experiencing, I think she does exceptionally well to stay so kind, patient and collected for the majority of the time.

One thing that really surprised me the most when revisiting Astrid’s character was her immense bravery. This is a huge part of her character that I had completely forgotten about, leading me to remember her as little more than a typical damsel in distress. While she often uses her intelligence as a defence mechanism, such as in Chapter 15 when she stands up to Diana, in times when a verbal smack down is inappropriate, she is perfectly willing to put herself in danger in order to protect those that she cares about. We first see this in chapter 10 when she breaks up the fight on the highway. We see it again when Panda and Quinn attack Little Pete, with one of my favourite quotes of the whole book, “Did you throw a rock at my brother?’ Astrid yelled. Fearless in her outrage.” It reminds me so much of the Frankenstein quote “I am fearless and therefore powerful” and was the point in the book where my past prejudices got completely wiped away and were replaced by my new love for her. She cares so much about people, and gets hardly any recognition for it. I just want to give her a hug 😥

Another thing I noticed about Astrid, which I thinks fit’s in really well with the idea of her being this awkward social outcast (I mean did she even have any friends before??) is that while many pop culture references are made by a variety of characters, Astrid makes multiple references to historical figures:

“Patrick was named for Patrick Star, the not-very-bright character on Spongebob” – Lana’s pov Chapter 2

“It’s like a roadrunner cartoon” – Quinn Chapter 9

“I’ll bet you’re one of those brainy Lisa Simpson types” – Diana Chapter 14

“Let me guess, you’re secretly a wizard who was raised by muggles.” – Sam Chapter 21

“And this isn’t exactly the time for me to consult Yoda on how to use my power” – Sam Chapter 26

“..an ornate, heavy iron thing that Coates kids joked was the tenth Nazgul” – Jack’s pov Chapter 32

“Too bad Dr Phil’s not around.” – Diana 39

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself” – Astrid Chapter 5

“To understand this you’d have to be Einstein or Heisenburg or Feynman, on that level” – Astrid Chapter 13

“Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. I forgot who said it.” – Astrid Chapter 17

I don’t have much else to say about this other than I find it quite interesting and I think it perfectly highlights how Astrid never quite fits in, no matter how hard she tries.

3.) Astrid’s Intelligence - Astrid’s intelligence is mainly used for world building throughout the first book. It is from Astrid that we learn the full story of the power plant incident, learn that the barrier is a dome and are introduced to the idea of animal mutations, as well as many theories about the outside world/ what caused the FAYZ (although those last theories are a misdirection on her part). This works well for the most part as it means that important information can be spaced evenly throughout the book, without the need for info-dumps. However, sometimes Michael’s attempts to showcase Astrid’s intelligence were, I think, a little on the nose and took me out of the story. The worst offender for this, in my opinion, is in chapter 2 with the line “Is that meant to be a pro forma reassurance or a specific commitment?” This is a really nit-picky complaint but this line just really bugged me as it seemed like he was making her smart for the sake of being smart and it kind of came off as annoying. I know one of her character flaws is her social awkwardness but this just felt too much. I love the way she over-explains and over-analyses things when she’s nervous, and I think her constant referencing to things that the other characters just don’t understand perfectly demonstrate this flaw, but lines like this seemed a little irritating and obnoxious.

The secondary use for Astrid’s intelligence in this book is as her primary line of defence. Her intellect is something that she prides herself on, but it is also something that separates her from everyone else. People are intimidated by her, and, as a result, she has learned to use her intelligence as a weapon when necessary. This is clearly seen in chapter 14, when Diana tries to intimidate her and Astrid immediately starts asking Diana questions about the cause of the FAYZ (questions that she knows Diana has no answer to). It’s later seen in chapter 22. When Drake begins to bully Astrid into calling LP a slur, she fights back by explaining that said slur is outdated; explaining the meaning of it; and then explaining how it does not fit LP anyway. While she knows that she cannot use her physical strength, her intellect is something that she can weaponise in certain situations in order to protect herself and those she loves. Her proficiency in this tactic also leads me to believe that Astrid has probably been in similar situations before. Everyone in Perdido Beach seems to know about LP. Is that why she has no friends?? Has she distanced herself from her peers in order to protect LP from their ignorance, whether consciously or not??

4.) Astrid and Religion - I don’t have as much to say about this, as I’m not religious myself and have very little understanding of Christianity (Or Catholicism – I’m actually not sure which Astrid is meant to be so if anyone knows I would appreciate it), but I feel like this is a such a huge part of who Astrid is that I had to at least mention it. One thing that I do like is Astrid’s seemingly constant battle between her scientific beliefs and her religious beliefs. While she does believe in God, she won’t accept him as an explanation for the FAYZ, and still looks for a scientific answer. Her relationship with religion seems to act as more of a moral guideline rather than a fundamental belief system. She looks to God for guidance and support in times of trouble, such as at Bette’s funeral (Chapter 17), as she is being chased by Drake (Chapter 24) and when the church is collapsed on top of her (Chapter 45) and seems to be convinced that her morality is directly tied to her faith. However, she relies on facts (things she can explain and control) for true comfort, and doesn’t allow her faith to interfere with her action. I think these ideas are perfectly encompassed by this quote from Chapter 40 “No. I believe in free will. I think we make our own decisions and carry out our own actions. And our actions have consequences. The world is what we make it. But I think sometimes we can ask God to help us and He will.” – And I am quite excited to see how her faith/ loss of faith changes her perceptions in the later books.

5.) Astrid’s Role in The Book - For the most part, Astrid has three main roles in this book:

- To act as LP’s protector

-To act as a source of plot-relevant and world building information to the reader

-To be Sam’s main motivation is becoming the leader

And this, in my opinion, is a phenomenal waste. Astrid was the perfect candidate for the leader of the FAYZ, and giving the role to Sam made no sense?? I think what Michael was trying to do was suggest that Sam had to be the leader instead of Astrid because, while Astrid is the intelligent one who knows how to work people, Sam is the one who people look to when things go wrong. (Think of Katniss and Peeta’s dynamic in The Hunger Games). But, it just doesn’t work. For one, we know that what the people of Perdido Beach think has very little effect on leadership. There was no uproar when Caine took over. Were people scared and upset?? Yes. Did they run to Sam’s aid and rebel against Caine?? No. So why should it matter whether they prefer Sam to Astrid – Sam could still be the hero without being the leader. In fact, I think it would have made both characters so much better if this was the case. Also we know that in times of crisis, people DO look to Astrid. Albert’s cat anyone?? Furthermore, Astrid’s ability to use her intellect to play on people’s emotions is a much better match for Caine’s easy charm than Sam with his flame throwers. I mean please. Astrid has a cool and intimidating exterior that actually hides a well of deep emotions that she can pull from and use to manipulate people into doing things they never thought they were capable of (we mostly see this work with Sam in this book during the fire, chapter 4, and the first time he controls his powers, chapter 28). Caine has an easy going and charming exterior that hides his lack of empathy, allowing him to use people for his own gain as he sees them as expendable. They are such PERFECTLY MATCHED OPPOSITES. But no. Michael wanted the leader to be Sam because?? Fire?? Ugh. Even when the question of who will take over if Sam poofs comes up in chapter 40, NOBODY EVEN MENTIONS HER. Astrid suggests that Edilio takes over and that’s that. (With that being said I do find it interesting that Astrid basically chose both the leader AND the backup leader but still. Let her live up to her full potential Michael.)

I think I’ve pretty much covered the first two bullet points in other sections but I’ll just quickly mention her part in Sam becoming the leader. It’s very clear from the fire onwards that Sam being in charge is Astrid’s main goal. Is this so that Sam can protect her?? Maybe. Idk. But it kind of frustrates me that she is broken down into Sam’s love interest towards the end, rather than coming into her own role. We are constantly shown that she is the main reason that Sam is becoming the leader, and this is even explicitly stated when Sam tells his mother/the gaiphage that he has “someone I have to stay here for” – chapter 46. I think the book should have ended with Astrid taking on her own role (as the leader obvs but I would have settled for something smaller or, you know, ANYTHING), instead of her just becoming Caine’s human shield. I do have more to say on this topic but I feel like it falls more into the relationship category so I’ll leave that for a later post.

And I’m not even going to talk about her powers past saying: what was the reason?? As far as I can gather Michael wanted a reason for Astrid being so insistent about Sam taking on the role of leader and so gave her a weird power and then decided hmm no.

Thank you so much for reading and I would love to hear all of your thoughts on Astrid. I think I’m going to do Caine next but who knows.

#the gone series #astrid ellison #Gone

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thecomfywriter · 3 years

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Writing Manipulative Characters

Okay, so I’ve been AWOL for a bit. Sorry! But it’s your girl -- @thecomfywriter -- back with another post. So, today I want to try and describe my take on how to write manipulative characters, because they are some of my favourite characters to write. Here are my socials:

Insta: @tovwriter

Wattpad: GKM075

Pinterest: gurleenkmultani (i’ve been giving yall the wrong one this entire time LOL)

tumblr: @thecomfywriter

Also, this may be a sensitive topic for some so TW about manipulation. And without further ado, lets get into it!

So manipulative characters are some of my favourites for one very specific reason: the bastards are masterminds. They’re intelligent. Clever. Geniuses with how they find loopholes and play with language and make you feel like an idiot for ever doubting them.

Seriously. I can hate a manipulative character as much as I want but I will always end up commending them or admiring the sheer brilliance of their tactics. If a character is written well, no matter how horrible a person they are, there will still be that sense of awe on wow how are they so good at being bad?

But to begin, I want to state something very important. Manipulation has a negative connotation and is used commonly to state bad manipulation, but manipulation itself is not evil. Good manipulation is called persuasion, and it is very commonly used actually. Think of trying to persuade someone into doing something they’re maybe reluctant to do, or how a religion persuades people to believe in their faith. Manipulation isn’t inherently evil. Emotional manipulation is used in media all the time to make you feel for the characters you’re watching. It is the intention of manipulation that dictate its morality. So that’s actually the first thing I want to go on.

1) What are your character’s intentions?

People aren’t manipulative for the sake of being manipulative. Not often at least. Most of the time, your oc will want something, and the means to getting that something is using manipulation. They have intention, and intention allows them to plan their manipulation accordingly. Not all manipulation is the same, nor is it equal. Figuring out your oc’s intentions will let you get inside their heads to understand question #2...

2) What type of manipulation will they use?

There are different types, often used in conjunction of each other. I’ll make a mini list, and there are probably more, but here’s what I can think of on the top of my head:

Gaslighting: a common type where the manipulator convinces the victim that what they are saying is outlandish/stupid and twists their words to make them feel insane the bad guys. It makes the victim doubt themselves and their own words, essentially vilifying themselves in their own eyes. Gaslighting will make victims question their own sanity.

Emotional Manipulation: preying on the victims emotions to make themselves appear more vulnerable or to garner sympathy and excuse the abuse. Using emotions and twisting them to cause deep pain within the victims while also charging blame off themselves (huge guilt-trippers)

Psychological Manipulation: using lies to make the victim question reality and/or their sanity. It is essentially the umbrella term for the types of manipulation states above

Persuasion: taking a logical/emotional argument and pitching it to convince another person of sharing the same mindset/do something

Depending on the context of the intention, the manipulator will use a certain type of manipulation to get what they want. If they are trying to cover up the fact that they’re cheating? Gaslighting. Trying to excuse their toxic/abusive behaviour? Emotional Manipulation. Trying to get someone to do the dirty work for them? A mix of emotional manipulation and persuasion.

Now here comes the hard part...

3) What makes them so persuasive?

If you’ve taken a debate class, or gotten into a heated argument with another person, you’ll know persuasion is a very difficult skill to master. This is a subtle marker of your oc’s intelligence when it comes to manipulation. Here are some characteristics + tips to persuasion:

Confidence: this is key because if your audience can suspect a shred of doubt in your belief in your own argument, there is no way you’ll convince them. Confidence gives the illusion of certainty, and when it comes to persuasion or changing someone’s perception of reality, establishing certainty in your own narrative (especially if its a false narrative) is imperative

Logic: everyone admires and respects facts. Its another way to back the validity of an argument and create a (false sense?) of certainty. Using facts in persuasive. Twisting facts in your favour is manipulative.

Here are some parts of arguments that I learned in english lol

logos (logic) includes stats, factual evidence, reasoning, analogy and comparison

challenging assumptions is attacking a counterbelief

hypotheticals are WEAK forms of argument about an imaginary situation

ethnos (credibility/origin) is a way to establish credibility of the author or speaker to build an argument using experience, education, etc

humour is related to storytelling and can be used to evoke emotions to gain attention and connect to the audience (makes them like you better + increases credibility); failed jokes an alienate you from the audience

with manipulation, laughing while someone else presents their argument makes them feel like a fool and is powermove in gaslighting.

pathos is emotion and involves diction (word choice), syntax (sentence structure), concession (agreeing to an opponents point; makes person seem unbiased) and recession (explaining why opponents points are invalid), anecdotes (descriptive stories), rhetorical questions (questions with obvious answers)

appeal to identity is using informal language to create a sense of belonging with readers

logical fallacies which is flawed logic to look out for//might be used by manipulators on purpose: slippery slope (hyperboles or spiralling assumptions), strawman (misrep’d argument/biased evidence), bandwagon (acceptable due to mass action), circular reasoning (stating obvious and not explaining), either/or (presenting situation with only 2 POV’s)

Emotion: preying on people’s emotions is probably one of the easiest ways to gain allyship. Humans are naturally emotional people and empathy is encouraged in our society, making it an easy way to persuade and manipulate people. Appealing to a person’s emotions is a guaranteed way to make them listen to what you have to say. Whether this is mentioning an anecdote that creates a sense of intimacy between the speaker and the audience, or bringing up an issue that you know your audience is passionate about; by appealing to a person’s emotion, controlling the narrative is much easier because more often than not, people listen to their emotions more than their logic

Knowing your Audience: this is building on the emotion thing. Knowing your audience is an IMPERATIVE part to creating an argument. Your language changes with your audience. If you’re speaking to kids, you’re not going to use big fancy words. You’re going to use simpler language that is easier to understand. Shorter sentence structure. Asking questions more often to ensure comprehension and promote engagement. Speaking to someone older might require more formal, respectable language. Vise versa. But to add on this idea, knowing the background of your audience and their beliefs, their values is a really strong advantage to persuasion and manipulation. For example, if you’re speaking to someone religious, knowing their religious values and using it to support your own argument is a steady way to gaining both their trust and their support quicker.

4) Research + Presentation

Getting background info on the victim is something your oc might do in order to find easier methods of manipulating them. Noticing and taking note of small behaviours they do or things they value is another thing. You want your oc to be observant, because that’s something a lot of manipulators use to their advantage. Also, how they present themselves and conduct themselves is huge.

Apart from just their language, how do they speak? Take this example. Person #1: the person who keeps interrupting you and yelling in your face (this is a type of manipulation, but it is difficult to write and very very abusive. If repeated long enough, the victim might stop trying to speak in general because they feel their words are falling on deaf ears and have no value). Now Person #2: calm, collected, cool. they present everything in a earnest way. Their body language makes your feel warm and welcomed, even if their words are slightly cold, but its because they’re analytical. They’re problem solvers! They’re trying to help you! It makes sense what they’re saying. Maybe you’re just the idiot who can’t understand. Look how calmly they’re explaining it. Look how patient they are. They aren’t even arguing. They’re not even yelling or anything. They’re listening. They’re explaining. They can’t be wrong. They made so many points. No, I must be the idiot. Sure, their words hurt a little, but they don’t mean to be so harsh. They’re just blunt. They’re just trying to help me .

One is very in your face. The other is very subtle. There are many in the middle, but it depends on who the manipulator is talking to that their method of argument will change. They might use touch more, or seduction, or a softer or louder voice. They might use formal language or informal. Speak slowly (gaslighting does this a lot to make the victim feel like a child or stupid for not understanding. Also annunciating more), or speak so quickly you can’t even comprehend most of their words except for the key words. Or they interrupt and speak quickly so you don’t have time to respond or counterargue.

Anyways... I feel like this post makes me seem like a manipulator LOL. Imma stop it right there, but if you have things to add on or questions or anything, comment it down below. Reblog and like if you enjoyed it and PLEASE don’t use these tactics in real life. Most of these are incredibly abusive so please don’t.

Happy Writing! :)

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dillydedalus · 3 years

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march reading

kinda forgot about this i guess. anyway feat. uh, magical ships, dubious mental health institutions (plural) & a parisian building with 99 rooms.

the forever sea, joshua phillip johnson (forever sea #1) i firmly believe that more fantasy lit should be set on ships bc ships are inherently a sexy setting & you could have pirates which are extremely sexy. this has ships (and pirates) and also a sea made of grass? a magical plant sea on which ships sail via magical fires, so conceptually i’m very into it all. the plot is fine, but the protagonist kindred has a very bad case of Main Character Syndrome so prepare for mild annoyance throughout. also while i generally enjoy book magic vs wild magic i wish more works would treat them as two ends of a spectrum rather than ~book magic bad and boring, wild magic cool and *~natural*~. but overall i think this series has potential. 3/5

jagannath: stories, karin tidbeck ([partially?] translated from swedish by the author) really cool collection of sff stories by tidbeck, many of which veer into mild horror and some of which are influenced by swedish folklore and especially swedish fey stories. i enjoyed most of these a lot, especially the existential call centre horror story, the ‘god won’t let me die’ one, and a taxonomy of a cryptid that goes a little off the rails. 4/5

annette, ein heldinnenepos, anne weber a novel in verse about anne beaumanoir, a real person who was a résistance member during world war 2 and later supported the algerian national liberation front, for which she was sentenced to 10 years in prison (she escaped to tunisia and later algeria). she’s clearly a very impressive and interesting person & i conceptually enjoyed the idea of writing a modern hero(ine)’s epic, but i feel like the language could have been a bit more stylized to match the form. 3/5

salvage the bones, jesmyn ward (audio) bleak but ultimately hopeful novel about a black family in the days before and during hurricane katrina, although the focus is on the family dynamics, the 14-year-old narrator discovering that she is pregnant, and the kids trying to keep the puppies their dog china just had alive and well. enjoyed this, altho i did it a bit of a disservice but listening to it a lot of short chunks. 3.5/5

regeneration, pat barker (regeneration trilogy #1) set mostly at a military hospital for soldiers with shell shock during world war 1, this novel explores the existential horror of war, psychological treatment (& the horrible absurdity of treating traumatised men just enough so that you can send them straight back to Trauma Town), and the meeting between siegfried sassoon & wilfred owen. i find i don’t really have much to say about it, but it is very, very good. 4/5

how to pronounce knife, souvankham thammavongsa a short story collection mainly about refugees and migrants from laos to canada, many focusing on parent-child relationships and being forced to work in low-paid jobs, often ones that are damaging to their health. the stories are very well-observed and emotionally nuanced and detailed, but with 14 mostly very short stories, the collection as a whole felt a bit samey, which i guess is something i often experience with short story collections. 3/5

faces in the water, janet frame horrifying semi-autobiographical novel about a young woman stuck in new zealand’s mental health system, moving to different hospitals but mostly from ward to (more depressing) ward in the 40s/50s. while there is a shift in attitudes during her stay that sometimes makes the wards more tolerable, mostly the patients are neglected, abused, and the threat of electric shock therapy and lobotomy always hangs over them. 3/5

the upstairs house, julia fine fuck why did i read so many books about mental health conditions this month??? this is another entry in my casual ‘motherhood as horror’ reading project, in which a new mother develops post-partum psychosis & imagines the modernist children’s book writer she’s writing her dissertation on and her poet sometimes-lover haunting her and her child (margaret wise brown & michael strange, who are real people i was utterly unaware of). this does pretty good on the maternal horror front, but i wasn’t entirely sold on the literary haunting. 2/5

1000 serpentinen angst, olivia wenzel a very interesting novel about a woman struggling with grief over her brother’s suicide, an anxiety disorder, the (non)state of a (non)relationship and discrimination/marginalisation based on her identity as a black, east-german, bi woman (while also being, as she notes, financially privileged). much of the novel is written in a dialogue between the narrator and an unnamed (& probably internal) interlocutor, which was p effective for a novel more focused on introspection than much of a plot. 3/5

atlas: the archaeology of an imaginary city, dung kai-cheung (tr. from chinese by the author, anders hansson, bonnie mcdougall) fictitious theory about a slightly-left-of-reality version of hong kong and how maps (re)construct the city, very heavy on the postmodern poststructuralist postcolonial (and some other posts, i’m sure). in many ways my jam. unfortunately my favourite parts of this were the author’s preface and the first part (fictitious theory of mapping alternate hong kong); the rest felt very repetitive and not particularly interesting, altho i’m sure i was also just missing a lot of cultural context. 2.5/5

under the net, iris murdoch .........i liked the other two murdochs i’ve read (the sea, the sea & a severed head) quite a lot so either i was not in the mood for her very peculiar style of constructing novels and characters or, this being her first novel, she just wasn’t in full command of that peculiar style yet but man this was a slooooooooog. don’t stretch out your modern picaresque with an incredibly annoying narrator over more than 300 pages iris!!!! 2/5 bc this probably has some merit & i just wasn’t into it

the impossible revolution: making sense of the syrian tragedy, yassin al-haj saleh (tr. from arabic by i. rida mahmoud) collection of articles and essays saleh (a syrian intellectual & activist who spent 16 years in a syrian prison) wrote from 2011 to 2015, analysing the reasons for, potential and development of the revolution, as well as some background sociological discussion on the assads’ regime. very interesting, very dense, very depressing. wouldn’t necessarily recommend it as a first read on the topic tho. 3/5

angels in america: millenium approaches & perestroika, tony kushner the page to tumblr darling quote ratio in this is insane (”just mangled guts pretending” and so on) and also it just really slaps on every level. also managed to get me from 0 to crying several times. brilliant work of theatre, would love to see it staged (or filmed). 4/5

life: a user’s manual, georges perec (german tr. by eugen helmlé) 99 chapters, each corresponding with a single room in a parisian apartment block; some chapters are basically ‘here’s the room, here’s a long list of objects in the room, that’s it bye :)’, some are short insights into the lives of the people living there, some (the best, mostly) are long, absolutely wild tales that are sometimes only tangentially connected to the room in question. why are the french like this. 61/99 rooms

sisters in hate: american women on the front lines of white nationalism, seyward darby (audio) nonfiction about women’s role in white nationalist hate movements, mainly based on the stories of three women who are or have been involved with various contemporary american alt-right/racist/neonazi hate groups, while also looking at general social trends and the history of white women’s role in white supremacy. interesting and engaging if you’re interested in this kind of thing. if you’re both politically aware and internet poisoned, it’s probably not much that is completely new to you but still worth reading. 3/5

starting in april i will be Gainfully Employed (ugh) & thus probably not read as much or read even more bc i have no energy for anything else

#the books i read #long post

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syubology · 4 years

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Writing Dialogue

I know someone’s gonna hate me for this, but dialogue is actually hands down the easiest part of writing for me. I used to struggle a lot with it, then one day something clicked and now my scenes are quite literally built on the dialogue - my rough drafts look like screenplays lmao. So, I might be the worst person to attempt to give tips on this particular subject, but I will do my best!

🌙

Unique Voices:

Every character should have their own voice. It might sound impossible at first, but here are some factors to consider when designing a speech pattern:

Upbringing. This is where it all begins, really. The way we speak can certainly change over time, but a lot of habits are gonna be established earlier on in life. So, who raised your character? How did their parents/siblings speak? Who were their friends, and how could their speech patterns have had an influence on your character? Where did your character grow up? Is the area known for a specific dialect or strong accent?

Age and era. Not only should you consider your character’s age, but also the era in which they’re living. If you’re in your thirties and you’re writing about a teenager in 2020, your character is not going to speak exactly the same way you spoke when you were a teenager. If you’re 20 and writing about a 20-year-old in 1920, they’re not going to speak exactly as you speak now. Do your research!

Who are they speaking to? Regardless of whether or not they live in a society where there is a very strict hierarchy between social classes or age groups, your character is still likely to adjust their speech depending on who they’re speaking to. Boss, teachers, parents, siblings, lovers - your character will probably have a slightly different way of speaking to all of these people.

Multi-lingual. Was your character raised with more than one language? Is the language your character usually speaks their first language? Are they entirely fluent? What might trigger them to slip into their first language - anger, excitement, meeting a certain person, praying, counting? Do they often forget or confuse certain words in one language or another? You can have a lot of fun with multi-lingual characters, but if you weren’t raised with more than one language yourself, I’d do some research before writing a bilingual character!

Slang. Again, if you’re writing a character who belongs to a different era/age-group/nationality to you, do a little research. You’ll want to avoid using stereotypical slang and speech patterns - for example, not a single fucking Irish person has ever seriously said “top o’ the mornin’ to ye”. Each person usually has a specific set of slang terms and expletives they favour.

I’m not a linguist, these are just some of the things I consider when deciding how a character might speak. Not all voices are 100% unique, so don’t stress yourself out too much. The way we speak is the sum of hundreds of different influences, many of which we share with others. The idea is just to keep these factors in mind and implement small changes here and there to make sure your characters’ voices stand out from each other.

Break it up!

No to big chunks of solid dialogue - it’s boring. Even if your character is going off on a long monologue, you should break it up with motion and description. Imagine you’re watching a play and the actor just stands there, stock still, emotionless, reciting these lines - no one wants to see that and no one wants to read it either, my fren. Below is the best example I could find in my recent writing of a monologue broken up with motion and description:

Only one character speaks for this whole thing, but even if it was a conversation, I’d weave those other details in through it in much the same way. As much as you can, try to drop in subtle reminders of the character’s surroundings and feelings and the reactions of whoever they’re speaking to. This keeps the reader in the scene.

Rehearse:

You might feel like a crazy person muttering random lines of dialogue under your breath, but saying things aloud can help you figure out if it sounds nice and natural or stilted and weird. We can’t all be Oscar-winners, I know, but for best results, you should try to channel your character and their emotions when you do it. Personally, when I’m in bed before I fall asleep, I play scenes through in my head like a film and that’s my kinda way of ‘rehearsing’ them.

Listen:

A lot of people have trouble actually constructing dialogue. You sit down to write and it’s like you’ve never had a conversation before in your goddamn life, I know the feeling. The first thing you need to do is stop putting so much pressure on yourself. Just like you can’t force conversation in real life without it getting awkward, I think it’s the same in writing. Relax, step back from the keyboard, shut your eyes and try to imagine the scene as if you’re watching a film - what are they saying?

If that fails, watch a film or an episode of something, listen to the actors. Read a novel and focus on the dialogue, how it’s constructed. When you’re out and about, listen to conversations going on around you, take notes of anything you find funny or interesting, anything that inspires a bit of dialogue for your story. Listening in this way is also a good exercise for studying other people’s speech patterns - think about how they’re unique and what the way they speak can tell you about them.

Practice:

I think this will be a point in most of my posts because it’s just so vital when it comes to all aspects of writing. Dialogue isn’t just a skill, it’s an entire group of skills. Within it, there’s humorous dialogue, flirtatious dialogue, arguments, etc. - the list goes on. They’re all a little different and present unique challenges, and you will be better at some aspects of dialogue than you are at others, so don’t get stuck in an I suck at dialogue rut, that’s not sexy at all.

Here’s a diverse list of dialogue prompts. To practice and challenge yourself, you could try building a conversation around each one or just a few. To start with, you could try writing only the lines of dialogue; when you feel more confident, start weaving in tone, setting, motion, etc.

✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧*

For me, the dialogue is the first thing I get. Before a scene has even begun to really take form, I have all these snippets of dialogue in my head, but then I often struggle with filling the gaps to make it a readable scene, you know? Every writer has different strengths. Dialogue may seem tricky at first, but you’ve been having conversations you whole life, pal, you know how to do it. The real trouble lies in finding your characters’ voices and figuring out how they’d interact with each other - once you’ve done that, the dialogue will come much easier for the rest of your story.

Sorry for the long gap between posts this time! I have a lot going on right now, but I love writing for this blog, it makes me feel like I know things, so thank you for all your support so far! Especially those who sent in asks - keep ’em coming! If I don’t reply, it’s because I plan to make a post on the topic, so don’t worry, I’m not ignoring anyone.

Thanks for reading, frens, I hope you’re all having a good day <3

#writing #writing dialogue #writing tips #writing advice #writeblr #writing help #syubvice

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wellimaginethat · 4 years

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Bruises: Chapter 1

SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 5 FINALE OF CHICAGO MED!!!

Pairing: Crockett Marcel x (female) Reader

Word Count: 2246

Author’s Note: SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 5 FINALE!!! This happened because of Chicago Med’s season finale the other night. I got this idea and it just stuck. I couldn’t shake it so I had to write it.

Trigger Warning(s): MENTION OF CHILD’S DEATH (Dr. Marcel’s daughter, Harper), ABANDONMENT, divorce, CAR ACCIDENT, MENTION OF BLOOD (in later chapter), slight injury (in later chapters), hospital stay (in later chapters), bad medical knowledge because I’m not a doctor (yet, maybe someday, lol), Dr. Manning is a noisy brat (no hate, maybe a little shade, but no full on hate), DEPRESSION (in later chapters), mention of alcohol abuse, mentions of self harm (in later chapters) Marriage problems, slight arguing

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: This is probably, kinda, sorta AU because I’ve missed some of Chicago Med (the others too due to work) so I’m just going based off what I know and research (which has come up that we don’t know much about Marcel’s past, other than this shocking new tidbit). Also, the name is from the song Bruises by Lewis Capaldi, which is the song I was listening to while writing this

Y/N = Your Name

PRELUDE FOUND HERE

~ And every breath that I've been takin' since you left feels like a waste on me; I've been holding on to hope, that you'll come back when you can find some peace ~

You should’ve woken up by now, or at least that’s how it seemed, but when he checked the time it had only been a little over an hour since you were moved into a room.

For the first three years, he had wondered about you. Then he tried forcing himself to stop. But there was always the ‘what ifs’ lingering in the back of his head. What if Harper never got sick? What if it had been caught sooner? What if she hadn’t died? What if he hadn’t started drinking so much after she died? What if he had been there when you went to leave? That last one was the most frequent to pop up. He wondered if maybe he could have stopped you.

As the thoughts started to build up, he forced himself back to reality. Some might think it weird, that he still cared for you after so long, that he had never fully given up. But you don’t give up on a love like the two of you had.

Part of him prayed that maybe somehow your paths would cross again. He never would have thought that him being accused of murder would be the cause, funny how the world works. A small amount of hope sparked in his heart, that maybe the two of you could talk and work it all out. It was a hope that he hadn’t realized he’d held onto all these years.

He looked at your face, you looked peaceful, like you were sleeping. If it wasn’t for the gauze covering the gash on your upper forehead and the slight bruising, he could’ve sworn you were just sleeping.

When he saw you earlier that day, so many memories and feelings came rushing back and he was faced with the realization that he never truly got over you. He had forced himself to move on, even if you weren’t technically divorced. That was just another question to add to the list he had for you. His first question, why you left, was practically answered for him.

And seeing you there, in the hospital bed, bruised and with little cuts on your arms, made him realize just how much he didn’t want to lose you again.

He reached out to touch your arm gently, to reassure himself that you were in fact there, and technically okay despite the injuries you suffered.

And that was when you started to stir.

He stood up and carefully placed his hands on your shoulders. “Careful.” He spoke gently when he thought you were conscious enough to understand him.

“What happened?” You managed to say despite the dryness in your throat. It started to come back to you before he even opened his mouth.

“You were in a car accident.”

You groan some as you shift in the bed, looking anywhere but at him. You swat his hands away weakly, but it was enough to get him to move them.

“How do you feel?” “Like I was hit by a car.” You retort dryly, finally looking up at him, unable to hide the small smirk.

You could see him smile a little and roll his eyes. “You know what I mean.” “I feel fine considering the fact that I was, in fact, hit by a car.”

“Technically your car was hit by another car and you were inside.”

“True, guess I’m just lucky, huh?” That right there assured him that you’d be fine, you were still able to be as sarcastic as ever.

He sat back down, his eyes never leaving you.

“So how long have I been here?” You asked, looking over at him the best you could given the way you were laying and the fact that your muscles were sore.

“About two hours.”

“Oh, that’s not bad. I was afraid it was like a week or something.” You paused for a moment, expecting him to speak but since he didn’t, you did. “So how have you been?”

He shook his head some before looking down at his hands, clasped together as he was leaning forward slightly, resting his forearms on his legs. He looked back at you. “Earlier you couldn’t stand to even look at me, let alone talk, and now you’re asking me how I’ve been?”

“Well I’m assuming I’m stuck here, and I’m assuming you aren’t gonna leave until I talk to you, so yeah, I’ve decided to kill time by making small talk. But never mind.” You huffed, shifting so that you were now looking at the ceiling.

Time passed by slowly, what felt like an hour of silence was probably only five minutes. You were getting ready to speak again, but just as you opened your mouth, a nurse walked in.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” She asked, and almost stepped back out.

“No.” The two of you answered in unison, too fast for it to not put an awkwardness in the air.

The nurse nodded slowly. “Okay…” She moved over to the side of your bed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine, all things considered.” You answered her with a slight smile. “My head hurts a little, and my body’s a little sore, but it could be worse.”

“Alright, if it gets any worse just press this button.” She motioned to the clicker thing on the bed, to which you nodded. “Is there anything I can get you?” “Some water would be great, my throat is getting pretty dry.”

She nodded and after she checked a few things and made a few notes, she left the room.

The awkwardness however, did not. You felt unsettled, like there was something you were supposed to say but didn’t know what. The air seemed stale and you hoped the nurse would get back with your water soon so you would at least be able to drink the water and pretend like you were calm.

Time ticked by slowly, and soon enough. Crockett was standing up. “Well since you don’t seem like you want to talk, I guess I’ll just leave you be.” He stated as he headed towards the door.

“I tried talking but you just got annoyed with me.” You retorted back, huffing and crossing your arms.

He turned towards you. “Well I’m sorry if I don’t want to make small talk with my estranged wife after I haven’t seen her for seven years.”

“Did you think that maybe I was easing into the difficult topics? That maybe I didn’t want to just jump right into an argument with you?”

“Well it seems like your plan backfired on you because we’re arguing now.”

“Well we don’t have to be!” You huffed again, making a point of crossing your arms even more and looking away from him.

Seconds passed without either of you saying anything.

He finally broke the silence. “Why did you leave?”

You groaned, you did not want to talk about this now. Not here, not now, maybe not ever.

He huffed. “Fine, don’t tell me.” He turned to walk out again.

“Wait.” You called after him with a sigh. “I told you earlier that I felt abandoned. I felt like I was living with a ghost, I’d wake up and you were already gone, and you’d still be gone when I got home. You’d come home late at night. I started wondering when you’d stop coming home at all.” You admitted that last part quietly, your eyes straying from his.

“How could you think that?” He asked after processing your words. “I always came home to you.” “Yeah, you did, but the way things were going I didn’t know if it would stay that way. After Harper died, you shut me out. I get that you were grieving, but so was I. We both lost her.”

“I’m aware of that.” He replied tightly.

The nurse must have either really bad timing or really great timing, because that was when she walked in with your water. She smiled at you as she walked over and handed you the styrofoam cup.

“Thank you so much.” You smiled at her, taking a sip of the water through the straw as soon as the cup was in your hands.

“Not a problem, if you need anything else just hit the call button.” She walked out then and that’s when you noticed that Crockett slipped out while you were distracted.

You sighed sadly, setting the cup on the little table tray thing and leaned back into the pillows, replaying the conversation in your head.

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

You didn’t see him again, and the next morning you were released from the hospital. You got a taxi, since your car was totaled and probably in a junk yard somewhere by now, and went back to your hotel.

You considered leaving, but something made you stay there, an inner voice maybe, telling you that you had to talk to Crockett before you left. That you had to finally resolve things and end your relationship with him completely, so that nothing tied you to him. The thought of it alone made your heart hurt, sure you had tried to move on from him, went on dates with other guys and stuff, but he was your first real love and a part of you still loved him, maybe more than a part.

You let yourself slip into a daydream, one where the two of you were able to work it out and go back to how things used to be. You missed those days, back when you were dating, and when you were engaged, and even in the first few months of being married. Things were good between you two until Harper got really sick. At first you both were hopeful, but the sicker she got, the less hopeful you got, and he had tried to remain optimistic. When you snapped out of the daydream, clouded by thoughts of the past, you found yourself wondering what would’ve actually happened if you hadn’t left. Would he have stopped staying out so late? Could you have fixed your marriage?

That’s when you decided what you needed to do.

So you called for another taxi and headed to the hospital, when you got there you asked the driver to wait because you’d only be a minute, you just wanted to give him your cell number and tell him to call you and you two could talk.

But when you walked in, you saw him chatting with another doctor, a female doctor. You couldn’t help but feel a little defeated, but you figured he had probably moved on so you didn’t let it stop you from going over to the front desk and smiling at the receptionist. “Hi, I was wondering if I could leave a note for Dr. Marcel?” The receptionist nodded and grabbed a sticky note and pen for you, which you quickly scribbled your number and ‘call me - Y/N’ on it before handing it back to her.

Natalie couldn’t help her curiosity, she never could, and she noticed he was acting a bit odd, so she approached him.

“Are you okay?” It was an innocent question, she was one of the few people who knew at least most of the story, the fact that Y/N was his wife and that they had a daughter named Harper who died when she was young.

He let out an exasperated sigh, running his hand over the bottom half of his face before looking at her for a moment. He was about to say that he was fine, but he knew that she wouldn’t let it go at that. “Not really.” He almost had to force himself to admit it.

“Do you need someone to talk to?” She was just trying to help, trying to be a friend.

He had to think about it for a moment, which might have been the reason she was quick to speak again.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to overstep or anything, I just want to help.”

“It’s okay.” He assured her with the barest hint of a smile. “She left.” A sigh. “Again.” He added in an even more defeated tone.

“Oh.” Natalie wasn’t sure what to say right away. “Did you try talking to her?” He nodded solemnly. “I did, but it didn’t go well.” He sighed again. “We’re both still hurt and it just ended up with us arguing instead of talking it out.”

Natalie looked at him for a moment. “You still love her, don’t you?”

He paused for a moment before nodding. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving her, I’ve learned to move on and continue with my life, but she’ll always be the one that got away.”

She was a bit shocked, this was the first he’d ever opened up to her. She nodded to him and watched as he walked over to the front desk to check the files of patients.

“Oh, Dr. Marcel, a lady left you a note a few minutes ago.” The receptionist held the sticky note out to him.

He took the note and looked at it, reading it before nodding to her. “Thanks.” He put the note in his pocket.

“Was it from her?” Natalie asked, having been just a step behind him.

He nodded silently as he resumed working just like that.

#chicago med imagine #one chicago imagine #crockett marcel imagine #crockett marcel x reader #dr crockett marcel x reader

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Royal Purple, Moon Silver

pretty short, but i wanted to test out this friendship

Word count: 1873

——————

Ever since the kids came back, Sunday Sessions were a bit…difficult to put on. Most of the queens became busy doing things after shows or in free time with their children, and those who were left didn’t see a point in going when it would only be them and the music director. So the only one who ever showed up was the pianist, and she had to be the one to explain to the fans why there were so many delays. Most of them understood, others didn’t and were angry. She was angry, too. In fact, she found herself getting mad a lot more often ever since the kids waltzed into their lives. It’s like they owned everything now!

“Oh, poor baby,” A voice crooned.

Joan whirled around in her chair as Mary walked over. The ex-princess began to massage her shoulders with her nails dug in, making Joan wince.

“What’s wrong? The loneliness getting to you again?” Mary said in the voice Joan heard Cathy talking to Mae with. Baby talk.

Joan slapped her hands away, but they grappled onto her shoulders and held tightly.

“Don’t hit me, pest,” Mary spat. She cleared her throat quickly and then chuckled when she felt Joan quaking slightly beneath her palms. She sneered. “Shaking already? You truly are pathetic.”

“What do you want now?” Joan growled.

“Oh, nothing,” Mary said. She raised a hand to caress one of Joan’s cheeks. “Just checking on the most worthless person in this building.” Her nails tickled the skin on the girl’s face as she trailed her fingers down to her neck. “Surprised you aren’t hanging, yet.”

“Get the fuck away from me.” Joan seethed, But Mary just cackled her hyena-laugh at her attempts to be fierce.

“Oh, you’re absolutely adorable! Really!” She said. “Perhaps that’s all you have going for you now. Not that anyone sees this little lamb face anymore. Everyone is caught up and me and my siblings. Nobody has time for you anymore.”

Mary stooped down and leaned in close to Joan. Her hot breath tickles the music director’s ear.

“Face it, Joan,” She whispered. “You aren’t wanted.”

“What’s going on?”

Mary and Joan both turned to see Elizabeth and Edward standing in the doorway. Elizabeth stepped in cautiously, eyeing her older sister like a bomb that was about to detonate, then slid her gaze over to Joan. Edward stood by the door, his expression unreadable.

“Something wrong is going on here.” Elizabeth said slowly.

“Yes!” Joan suddenly yelled. She didn’t know where this burst of confidence came from, but it was bubbling up from her throat and spewing from her mouth before she had time to consider her words. “There is, and I can tell you what!” She spun around to Mary, pointing. “Your sister treats me like I’m some kind of alien! Do you know what kind of things she says to me?”

“Joan,” Mary warned. “Hold your tongue.”

“I will not!” Joan cried. She turned back to Elizabeth, eyes pleading. “Please! You have to tell your mums! They’ll never believe me, but if you could vouch for my claim—” She stepped forward and extended her hands to clasp Elizabeth’s, but was instead slapped so hard she fell backwards. Shocked, she froze on the floor, staring up at Elizabeth, who was shaking her hand in the air.

“Ow,” She muttered. “That kinda stung. Yikes.”

Joan’s cheek burned- Elizabeth had no idea how badly her hit really hurt.

“You’ll get used to it,” Mary said, gliding over to her sister’s side.

“Really?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “What, do you get callouses or something?”

“No, you just learn to focus on the pain you inflict than the recoil of the action.”

“Huh.” Elizabeth looked back down at her palm. “Interesting.”

“Y—” Elizabeth and Mary’s heads snap down to the girl on the floor. “You were in on it?”

“In on what?” Elizabeth echoed. “This wasn’t some grand scheme, Joan. It was a little joke. But yes, I was. And it was great! You should have seen your face!”

Joan’s cheeks turned dark red, but the area where she had been struck remained a deep shade of vermillion. She looked past the sisters to Edward, who was shifting on his feet and giving her a pitiful frown.

“But why?” Joan said. “You’re- you’re not like her. You’re good!”

“She’s ‘good’?” Mary chortled. She stalked up to Joan and stomped on her ribs with her boots. “And, what? I’m not?”

“You killed people!” Joan hissed and then keened in pain when Mary’s heel dug against her chest.

“She’s my sister,” Elizabeth interjected. Her voice is gentler than Mary’s, but it’s obvious she was irritated from the glint in her eyes and the way her arms were firmly crossed over her chest. “Of course I’m going to side with her.”

“Side with her on what?!” Joan spluttered. “Her hatred for me? It’s not a fight, it’s just some grudge this sociopath can’t let go of! You don’t have to get involved!”

“Don’t call her a sociopath.” Elizabeth growled, advancing on Joan.

“Well, she is,” Joan said. “And you’re no better by supporting her.”

Mary stomped on Joan’s chest again and this time there was a very distinct crack. Joan yowled loudly.

“Alright!” Edward suddenly spoke up. He hurried away and pushed his sisters away from Joan. “That’s enough!” Then, with a calmer voice, “She’s had enough.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at her brother. Mary looked annoyed that she didn’t get the chance to pluck out Joan’s broken ribs and string them on a necklace, but she backed off.

“Never did have a taste for this, did you, Edward?” She said.

“Looks like I didn’t inherit that gene from Father.” Edward replied.

“You need-”

“I know, I know,” Edward cut her off, rolling his eyes. “I need to be all tough and big and scary. I’m royalty, I have to put people in their place, I know. But we aren’t nobles anymore. And she’s a pianist, not a masochist.” A small smirk tugged on his lips. “You’d be able to tell when someone is with ease.”

Joan winced and closed her eyes, expecting Mary to crack open Edward’s skull for that jibe, but instead she just clenched her fists, bared her teeth, and glared at her brother.

“Aren’t you sweet,” She crooned venomously. “Protecting the girl who-”

“-killed my mother.” Edward finished, rolling his eyes again. “And I sure appreciate it, because I get to hear it all the time now.”

Joan flinched and Edward flashed her a quick smile to relieve her of any anxieties on that topic. His head turned back to his sisters, a hard expression set on his soft features.

“Maybe Mae will be less of a disappointment.” Mary spat.

“You would try to teach a two year old to be a cunt.” Edward said.

Mary growled and then spun around, marching out of the room. Elizabeth followed her out, but not without a final glance over her shoulder. When they were out of sight, Edward’s shoulders relaxed and his face became a lot less threatening and more like a gentle chipmunk’s.

“They’re going to be so mean to you now.” Joan said, sitting up.

“Oh, no!” Edward gasped. “My sisters? Being mean? I’ve never seen that before! That will be so unexpected and out of character!”

Joan laughed softly, but winced when pain throbbed in the left side of her chest. Her hand flew upwards, tentatively touching the injured area. Edward knelt down next to her.

“Are you alright?” He asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” Joan grunted. “I think. They don’t feel broken. Maybe just cracked.”

“Ouch,” Edward winced. “I’m so sorry about Mary and Elizabeth. You don’t deserve this at all.” He reached a hand out to touch Joan, but pulled back, presumably thinking against it. “They can be real jerks sometimes. Or a lot of times in your case.” He gave her a sad frown.

“Why do they hate me so much?” Joan asked. “Or, why does Mary? Elizabeth just seems to be some kind of pawn. I’ve never done anything to either of them!”

Edward shrugged helplessly. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He said. “Mary has some, uhh...issues. Back then and now. But that doesn’t give her any right to treat you the way she does. Or try to break your ribs!”

Joan smiled slightly. She had never thought she would like any of the kids, especially Jane’s son, but something about Edward gave him a pass. He was different from his sisters, even the annoying toddler.

“You-” She began hesitantly. “You don’t think I killed Jane, right? I-I tried to save her, I really did, but-”

“Hey.” Edward clasped Joan’s hands in his. They were smaller, but warm and loose enough for her to pull away if she wanted to. “Of course I don’t believe that. I know you didn’t. My mum died from poor sanitation, not you cursing her vagina to tear and get infected or something.” He paused for a moment, then laughed. “That was a weird thing to say.”

Joan giggled softly. “Yeah. Kinda.”

“Don’t believe anything my sisters say,” Edward went on. “They like starting stupid stuff.”

“Are you really the only sensible one out of your siblings?”

Edward grinned. “Yup. That also makes me the best.”

Joan smiled back at him. She stood up after Edward released her hands, gritting her teeth through the pain in her ribs, but managing to get on her feet without tipping over. She set one hand on the injured area, massaging it lightly.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Edward asked.

“Probably,” Joan answered. “I’ve handled worse.”

That earned her a curious frown, but Edward doesn’t press the matter. He just twitched his lips a little and then nodded.

They both walked out of the dressing room. Somewhere down the Stairs of Doom, a few of the queens and their daughters could be heard clamoring about, probably getting ready to leave. Edward looked up at Joan with a friendly warmth in his eyes.

“Wanna come over for dinner?”

Joan is both startled and surprised. “Wh-what? A-are you sure?”

“I am!” Edward said. “I like you. You’re much better company than any of my sisters.”

“What about the other queens?”

“Catalina, Anne, and Cathy all have their kids. Cathy is the worst about it, though. She’s ALWAYS with Mae. I can’t remember the last time I saw her alone.” Edward said. “Mum is, well, my mum. I can’t exactly be friends with her. Kitty is...okay. Mum REALLY wants me to like her, but she can be loud and too energetic for me. And Anna is cool, but,” He shrugged. “I like you much better. You’re quiet and smart and funny, but not in a pretentious way.”

Joan blushed shyly and looked away. She couldn’t believe she was letting herself be flattered by a twelve year old. How pathetic could she possibly get?

“Thanks,” She whispered. “I’ve never- I’ve never, umm, been someone’s top choice for a friend before.”

“Then I’ll be the first.” Edward smiled at her. “Come on, let’s go before they leave us here! Oh, and don’t worry, I won’t let my sisters pick on you again.”

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic #six fanfiction #mary i of england #edward vi of england #elizabeth i of england #joan on the keys #six the kids #anti mary tudor

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mateasha · 3 years

Text

rendevous 18.6y

summary: chikage shows up at the front door of MANKAI after disappearing from the face of the Earth for 3 years. itaru is not happy. fandom: a3 pairing: chikage x itaru word count: 4716 tags: original characters for the sake of plot, friends to strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, flashbacks, mentions of death, bad attempts at action, bad attempts at comedy chapter 3: work Itaru is unhappy. There’s a lot of things he could be doing right now, and he did not expect one of things he chose to do is to be outside in a bar today. With a lot of people. The things he does for money and food. People might call him a glutton, but he would say he just knows how to play his cards right, he thinks to himself as he slides his phone out of his pocket to play a mobile version of KniRoun— which is more just tapping on the screen really fast to kill enemies.

The bar is decently big, 13 of them seated around a booth, Sakyo, Izumi, Tsumugi, Tasuku, Azuma, Chikage, Kazunari, Omi, Guy, Citron, Tsuzuru, and Homare. 12 excluding Itaru who isn’t really mentally there. But at least he’s there, with a tiny piece of comfort to get him through this arduous time. Arduous to him at least.

The atmosphere is warm, with a sense of familiarity to it, the yellow lights making everyone look a bit more tan than they actually are. They’ve gone to a different bar this time, one that Chikage recommended (of course) and he won’t lie: this place has good food.

Not that he’s doubting Chikage’s tastes— which he obviously can and will do, with his no taste buds no spice receptor having ass, but he’s doubting Chikage’s tastes, as he watches him sprinkle nanami that he had in his bag all over his side dish. Everyone is slowly sipping on their respective alcohol, Itaru with some fruity drink that he hasn’t touched a bit, as he takes out his phone just to inspect the time.

Everyone is having their tiny bit of banter, especially with Chikage as he talks to them with an almost smile on his face, each of them going around, asking questions about whatever he’s doing. He’s not surprised that the conversations Chikage is conducting are not turning into shouting matches, as he’d expect.

“Chikage! It hasn’t been a long time since I’ve seen you!” Homare shouts, almost alerting the entire bar to whatever their business is.

“Ah, yes. It’s been only a couple days, hm?” Chikage takes a bite of his tataki, savoring the taste a bit before he takes a sip of his weird craft beer that he knows how to pronounce for whatever reason.

“Couple days? Chikage, you’ve been around?” Tsumugi is slowly getting more and more roped into whatever conversation they’re having. Itaru is suddenly intrigued, his ears almost perking up like a cat’s, but not physically.”

“Yeah. I wanted to come around. The graveyard.” He gets a bit somber thinking about it, but still keeps up the slightly cheery demeanor. “It’s nice there.”

“It is.” Izumi chips in.

“We chose it. Without you.” Itaru glares at Chikage from across the table, finally taking a sip of this damn drink that they called the One Night Stand. Lame name, he thinks, as he takes in another sip, feeling the coldness of the strawberry liqueur down his throat.

“Yeah… I know.” Chikage quickly changes the topic to something else, Itaru left behind to think as he slowly takes more of the fruity cocktail into his system. It’s hard to hear them over the sound of everyone else but it’s nice. It feels familiar. Like nothing’s changed. But he knows that things have changed. For some reason, everyone seems happy to see him. Him included— but he’d never say that. Itaru is happy. Sort of.

It’s a dilemma to miss someone so much that you feel your heart ache and twist but also hate them for leaving. It’ll go down in the textbooks maybe, a textbook example of a dilemma, but he hates it, this feeling of having to choose his emotions— when usually they would pick themselves, like most of the time. On one hand, Itaru is glad— maybe even overjoyed that he’s alive, but on the other, he’s angry that he’s alive and didn’t even tell him anything. He just left.

But now is not the time to self loathe, as he gets out of the booth. “I’m going to the bathroom.” He quickly pockets his phone with the game still running into his standard jacket, unsure if Chikage caught it— which he probably did, but he doesn’t expect much from him, at least in the court of actually doing something.

But he can almost feel someone’s eyes burning into his back, specifically Chikage’s. He walks into the bathroom, the smell of booze and maybe just a little bit of piss— but he’s used to it, based on the idea that Itaru has had to deal with bar bathrooms ever since joined the damn workforce. But for some reason, the smell of booze is actually a bit pleasant— exclude the piss smell— with a maturity that exudes unconsciously.

He’s still playing the same game, watching Gawain slice some basic slime, Itaru tapping fiercely just to speed up the process— he has to rank for this event and these battles are a little long. Which is why he didn’t want to come, but he owes it to Izumi, who looked significantly more happy when she saw he was coming along for once, after he had declined the past 3 weeks.

But this train of thought is stopped suddenly as soon as the sound of the bathroom door swings open, with a slight bang on the wall, not nearly loud enough to disturb him, but Itaru gets quiet, raising his feet off the ground.

“Chigasaki.” Chikage has a stern voice now.

Itaru is silent. It’s Chikage. He really doesn’t want to talk to him.

“I know you’re in here.” Shit.

“No, you don’t.”

“Just come out. I want to talk.”

One of the worst phrases ever to come out of his mouth, other than “uncute junior.” He walks out a little dejected.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

He walks away from Chikage, slowly walking to the door with a tinge of tantrum in his steps.

“Wait.”

Itaru continues to walk out before he feels a hand on his wrist pulling him back.

“Wait.” He tightens his grip on Itaru’s arm, forcing him to turn around, their eyes meeting for a bit, Itaru just staring him down as hard as he can which, surprisingly, has a little effect on him.

“What?” Itaru’s voice is cold and steely. “What do you have to say?”

“I’m here to say sorry.” Chikage is completely, wholly serious, his voice echoing in the bar’s bathroom. He pulls Itaru closer, close enough to where he can smell Chikage’s scent, smelling faintly of alcohol, cigarettes, and oddly but not really oddly enough, gunpowder.

“...You… you’re saying sorry.” Itaru doubts Chikage a bit looking into his eyes, for some reason are full of sincerity.

“Yes.” Chikage’s face is telling that he’s still serious, which comes as a bit of a surprise to Itaru.

“...What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re saying sorry to me.”

“And? I’m sorry. Izumi told me about everything.”

“Izumi?”

“Yeah.”

“She told you?”

“No, I asked her.”

“You asked Izumi how I felt before you came to me?” Itaru questions him fiercely, his eyes set alight with a tinted anger.

“I thought you wouldn’t respond.”

“But still? You didn’t even try coming to me first? That’s not fucking right, Chikage.” Itaru can feel a little bit of the alcohol in his brain, his thoughts becoming less coherent as he goes on.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you would be so… distraught over me leaving.” Chikage feels a bit awkward, a first for him— then again, tonight might just be the week of firsts, maybe even month.

“I— you didn’t know? Did that moment mean nothing to you?” He thinks back to the first time Itaru went to pick Chikage up.

“It meant something to me, I just— I thought you might’ve been glad, like—“

“Glad? Listen; I love having a room to myself but glad? Chikage. You— You really do— matter to me. You still do, but right now I can’t fuckin—“ Itaru chokes up, frustrated that he can barely get the words out, trying so hard but everytime he says the next word it comes out wrong. “I’m going.” Itaru is tearing up as he slowly feels a burst of energy, breaking away from Chikage’s grip before bursting through the bathroom doors.

He’s almost running through the bar, passing by his table.

“Itaru?” Izumi sees him, tears almost in his eyes as he runs past, Chikage trailing behind. “...Chikage.” She pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. “What’d you do?” Izumi is stern with her voice, almost a scolding tone.

“I said sorry.”

“Listen, just give him some time.” Izumi looks at Itaru exit the bar, slowly, almost pitifully. “He needs it.”

—

Itaru is humiliated.

Crying in front of everyone, well, at least almost crying. God, what if one of his coworkers were there?

He’s walking along the sidewalk of Veludo Way, the night street slightly bustling with the sound of footsteps moving past. The odd warmth on Veludo Way’s spring day slowly sets into the environment, making Itaru slightly sweat through his undershirt that’s just the slightest bit restrictive, as he unbuttons his jacket and then a button off the collar of his undershirt. Much better.

Itaru has much to think about— which Itaru is definitely not used to, as the thoughts race through his mind like they’re Olympic runners.

He’s not angry. He thinks he should be though, as he sits down onto a bench, the weird rustling of the banners hanging from building to building making this day feel off. Everything about this day feels off. Especially the fact Chikage was motivated to say sorry— which half the time (when he was here) he would probably say, “I’m sorry that you felt that way.” like he wasn’t at fault. But a genuine, I’m sorry?

He takes off his jacket finally, pulling out his phone. Lots of new notifications that he clears immediately, opening his game up again. The area around the bench is secluded, so he knows he can play here.

He can feel the wind getting his hair into his eyes— god he wishes he was home, but after that whole fiasco, he doubts he can go back. Unless Chikage is doing something. But he really doesn’t want to talk about it with Izumi. As understanding as she is, he isn’t in the mood to deal with whatever advice she has to give.

He opens up, Lancelot posing on his home screen saying something about Gawain. How fitting. He immediately turns off the phone after thinking about it a little bit. He can’t even try to escape this. He gets up again, taking a longer walk to an even less busy street. He’s gone really far, he thinks, as he looks at his surroundings, a little bit unfamiliar— as far as six years in the same place can be familiar.

Something is different, he thinks, Itaru settling into the chair and getting comfortable, basking in the sunset’s light that casts shadows long, the silhouettes of people stretching across the sidewalk. It’s not that he’s worried about how everyone else perceives them, they see each other every single day (on a non ranking week). Nothing’s changed. They’re all still close knit— even more close knit than how they were before.

Nothing’s changed.

Everyone talks like they used to, everyone is still friends, even Chikage with everyone else. And there is literally no evidence that Chikage hates him, and he completely understands why he had to go. There’s no evidence that he’s less than glad to see him again after three years.

So why is he so stressed, he thinks to himself, screaming his lungs out internally in anger. He fusses with his phone, turning it over and over again, playing with the home button and the speaker, feeling the engravings on his hand, stroking it fast then slow to pass the time.

“...Chigasaki.” Chikage pulls up to the bench in the troupe’s car.

“...Chikage.” He looks like a child that ran away after his iPad got taken away. Chikage hasn’t really changed either. Maybe more well mannered. Maybe more well meaning than he was the first time around. His skills are still the same, as Chikage parks on the side, and comes out the car, wearing his signature outfit that doesn’t look like it wore down at all in the past three years.

“Why are you here?”

“Can you just… wait this time. Come into the car. I’ll drive you back.”

“How do I know you aren’t kidnapping me?”

“Why would I need to kidnap you?”

“...To force me to accept your apology?”

“Even I know that’s not how it works.”

“Trying to make a joke here.”

“Not a very good one.” They both chuckle a bit.

Nothing’s changed.

“I’m sorry.” Chikage pauses. “Again. Let me try this again— okay?” He looks to Itaru for approval, almost looking more timid than he used to.

“...you were never unable to.” He mumbles under his breath, almost feeling bad for the green haired man sitting next to him, until his asshole smirk pops up again, his slight irritation, and urge to hurt Chikage in more ways than one increasing.

“Can we move into the car? I… I can gather my thoughts better there.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

They both get up from the bench, the sun already down, the feeling like time passed by so fast, as Itaru checks his phone for the time. It’s 7:48 pm, Itaru says to himself, as he gets into the car.

“So…?”

“So.”

“Go on…”

Chikage starts the ignition, pulling out of the parallel park, taking his time this time.

“How’d you come find me?”

“A spy never tells his secrets.”

“Mmm.” Itaru can’t help but be irritated, Chikage backtracking.

“Sorry. I put a tracker on your phone a while back.”

“Dude, what?”

“Kidding. Or am I?” He laughs at Itaru’s kid-like face, pouting like there’s no tomorrow.

“I just needed to talk to you. I don’t want to let this opportunity go.”

“You had a lot of opportunities.”

“I’m aware.”

“A lot.”

“You said that.”

“Now what do you have to say now?”

“Well, as if you haven’t heard it enough— but I’m sorry. Really.” Chikage takes a deep breath, as he nears closer to the dorms. “We need to patch whatever we have up and since it’s quite out of character for me to take initiative in these intrapersonal relationship fixers, I need you to know that I am aware of my mistake, I really should have just come to you. I just didn’t… assess the situation correctly.”

“Wow.” Itaru is stupefied, just sitting in the car chair.

Now the feelings are really rushing in.

“What?”

“I…” Itaru is just sitting there, unsure of what to say, but Itaru’s sudden interjection stops the conversation right then and there. “...okay. Thanks. I forgive you.”

“Is that it?”

“What?”

“Were you expecting… more work?”

“I’m new to this type of stuff, Itaru— at least doing it in a genuine way.”

“I know.”

“Well… I’m glad you forgive me.”

That definitely shuts them up, setting in a familiar aura of familial awkwardness that Itaru can’t wait to get out of, as they pull into the driveway. Izumi is waiting at the entrance, reading some book about dealing with children— like she has to still, but it doesn’t hurt. He slowly gets out at the same time as Chikage.

“...So?” Izumi looks at Chikage and Itaru inquisitively, almost confused as to what happened— as neither of their faces display great discomfort but also not happiness. Which is what she wanted— but hey, Rome wasn’t built in one day. After a momentary silence, Izumi whips her head around to look at Itaru.

“Don’t run off like that again.” She punches the side of his arm, and walks inside.

Chikage and Itaru quickly shuffle back to their room, Chikage already packing up all his stuff for another trip out.

“Where are you going?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“I figured as much. See you.”

“See you.” Chikage quickly rushes out of the room, leaving Itaru in his messy room, as he gets up from his chair to flop all over the even messier couch, as he moves around some tissues and cans down the floor, laying up and looking at the ceiling, where there’s literally nothing there. Perfect for him. To be alone with one’s thoughts.

Itaru feels bad. He doesn’t know why he feels bad, but he definitely feels bad about something, as he stares up into the whiteness of the ceiling that feels almost engulfing and suffocating for some reason, as he sits up to walk over to his computer to turn it on, taking a seat in his gamer chair, slouching so heavily- even more heavily than usually. He’s tired.

And the first step to becoming “untired” is to address the elephant in the room. Chikage is here and he still, even after all that shit that just went down, does not know how to cope with it. Like he said, Chikage didn’t leave because he resented MANKAI. So why does he feel so bad? He needed time to grieve and time to deal with the stack of bullshit he needed to deal with after his death. It’s fine.

But as cliche as it is, it’s not fine. Itaru is trying so hard to distract himself, but you can only lose yourself in a game so much. He needs to perceive the reality of him being here.

He straightens up in his chair slowly and groans a bit before laying his fingers and hand on the keyboard before determining that he’s too tired to game for once, which he’s surprised by and can barely push through as he gets up, leaving his computer on as he goes up the ladder to fall asleep.

He doesn’t even need to try.

—

Itaru already is dreading the idea of going to work now that Chikage is here, the thought not even crossing his mind during the weekend-- which makes complete sense, being that for the past three days he’s been thinking of Chikage. Which says a lot about him, really.

But now he’s been cursed with Chikage hovering over him as they both sit in the car to work, the silence almost deafening, except for the Idolmaster song quietly in the background— which doesn’t surprise Chikage because of his prior experience with Itaru. But when Chikage looks at him, Itaru has a regained focus while he hums along to the song.

Which definitely matters, because for the first time in a while, Chikage is sweating nervously, on the same level as Itaru trying to force down his feelings vomit back into his stomach, but less visible, as he breaks the silence that’s harder than permafrost with his humming— when as a matter of fact— he didn’t really need to do that, when not even god could save this car ride that keeps dragging on and on.

Chikage doesn’t say anything as they pull into the parking lot of the office building quickly, trying to get in without anyone seeing them— which is practically impossible as they rush in, Chikage hearing whispers of “why are Chigasaki and Utsuki-senpai together?” and “why’d they come into work together?” with the occasional coo, which isn’t very helpful to Itaru’s reddening face as he drags Chikage by the hand to round the hall. Itaru stops to catch a little more breath before starting.

“This is so fucking humilating.”

“Does it matter?”

“...Yeah? I have an image to keep up here, and I can’t lose out on that.”

“Listen, we came together once. I’m sure this won’t happen again.”

“What about the like… 8 weeks till closing night?

“I’ll be fine. I can figure something out.” Chikage goes on his phone.

“God, can we just go. I’ll see you after work.”

“Yeah.”

They walk down the hall, opening the door to the office, and go to their separate cubicles.

—

It’s break, and Itaru is nowhere to be seen, as usual, but Chikage is in the lunchroom poking slowly at his food, which is just an onigiri, which isn’t the most filling thing but he’s subsisted on worse before. He picks it up and takes a bite, looking up at the lunchroom, which is one of multiple in the building, one of the smaller ones, so he’s not around many people at all. But the same sterilized environment starts to get him, falling into the same daily pace, almost making him forget the fact that he had to come to work with Itaru this morning.

Itaru really made a bigger deal than it was, he thinks, remembering his little pouting face as he walked away, his face obviously showing that he was stomping away in his head. Or at least wanted to stomp away, but that isn’t the most appropriate thing to be doing in a workplace setting. His thoughts are interrupted by a voice coming out from the door frame, as he turns his head towards the open door, seeing his coworker in it.

“Utsuki-senpai!”

He looks around for a bit before registering the fact that there’s someone trying to talk to him, which he wasn’t really expecting while he’s in here, as literally no one comes in here except for him, unless someone really needs to talk to him. “Ah, Yui-san. Hi.” He plasters a small smile onto his face like he’s switching on a light.

“So… You were seen coming in with Chigasaki-san, I’ve heard.” She pulls out a chair and sits down next to Chikage, putting down her lunch on the table, and opening up the tupperware.

Chikage sighs, struggling to keep that smile taped on with the shitty tape that can’t even stick to walls. “Yeah.” He pauses after a bit of silence, the room stale with slight fear that he’s mad. He’s definitely not mad, that’s what he knows, but he’s definitely tired of hearing the same shit over and over again, since he got here. “What about him?” He’s obviously coming off a little angry that she’s asking about it, which he’s trying so hard not to do— but to no avail.

“Ah… sorry if I made you mad, the workplace has just been a bit curious… we’ve never really seen you interact with him— that’s all!” She tries to reciprocate Chikage’s fake smile with a smile of his own, overbearing— but Chikage can appreciate the effort. “It’s just that he’s a pretty popular actor… Do you know him?” She’s obviously interested in Itaru.

Chikage doesn’t know what to say— whether to say no, they just happened to meet (which doesn’t make sense) or to say yes. And tell them everything. He decides on a half truth. “Ah, I didn’t know he was an actor!” He quietly adds a “still” at the end, so they can’t call him out if they knew his past. “My car broke down, so I just needed a ride here. I recognized Chigasaki-san as I’ve seen him around. He’s quite the popular one.”

“Hah, yeah. He’s very handsome… even I can see that. Never got the chance to talk to him though.” Chikage already knows why, and rolls his eyes in “it was expected from you, but I’m still disappointed.” He adds a side remark. “Are you two sure you have nothing going on?”

Chikage almost wants to facepalm and walk out, but he needs to retain the caring senpai act for a while, so he sucks it up, and stifles his anger to squeeze out at least a tiny neutral remark. “Yeah. We only came to work together like… once. I don’t know why you’re so interested in this.”

“He is handsome… and he’s nice to boot.”

Are you kidding me? “You sound like you have a crush on him.” She immediately blushes when Chikage even mentions the idea that she has a crush on him.

“Well, can you blame me?”

Chikage wants to roll his eyes so bad, but rolling his eyes in his mind will just have to do as he tries to formulate his sentence, “Really?” Chikage speaks with disbelief in his voice, like he forgot that no one really is aware of his gamer side. She’s completely unaware of his second side. “I mean, he is handsome. But have you ever even… talked to him? Not doubting his social skills or his personality, but I’m just wondering. You need to know what you’re getting into.

“Well…” She thinks to herself, obviously like she hadn’t talked to him a while. Which is probably right. “I’ve talked to him like… once…? Maybe twice, but that was just in a meeting.”

“Well, how can you have a crush on him?”

“He’s so nice! I don’t think there’s a way to dislike him. Seriously.” Yui-san looks as if she’s literally swooning, like she’s leaning back in her chair so far back she might fall.

“Mhmmmm…”

“Well, you’re a downer.” She goes back into her food as Chikage finishes up his onigiri.

“Suit yourself. I’m heading back to my desk.”

“I’ll see you later. Oh, I forgot what I came to tell you! The boss wants to talk to you. Something about a trip?”

“I’ll be sure to head over.”

Trip? He walks quickly out of the break room to escape the awkward atmosphere that he created himself, which is extremely unlike him to do, when he’s usually a bit charismatic in the workplace. His boss doesn’t really intimidate him, as he walks through the hall to head into the office, bumping into Itaru in front of the door.

“... Are you going in?” Itaru looks at him with a neutral face, but he can see the anxiety setting in behind it, as he still keeps up his refreshing businessman facade in front of Chikage, which is a bit irritating, but it’s okay.

“Depends on what you think.” Chikage gives him a shit-eating smirk, a wild difference from the shit-eating grin that Chikage would usually give him.

“Do I really need to say?” He seems a bit tired, huffing a bit from his nose in slight frustration.

They’re both silent for a bit before they start walking, entering the room together. The room is a bit more colorful than most of the office, with the same fish tank still there, and the shelves filled with photos of places he’s been and the occasional family photo.

“Ah! Utsuki-san, Chigasaki-san. Sit down. I’ve been looking for you two.” The last words strike some sort of fear into Itaru’s heart, almost to the same level of “we need to talk”. “Have you two met?”

“Yes, we have.” Itaru speaks up. “We don’t really… talk much however.”

“Ishii-buchou, what did you need from both of us?” Chikage saves Itaru the energy that he would use if he were to speak to him, which he’s obviously thankful for.

“So, my daughter Kaede is having her birthday soon, and I have a trip to go on with a foreign investor, so you can imagine the dilemma I’m having.” He says it in such a condescending way it hurts a little.

“Oh, happy early birthday to your daughter! So what do you want us two to do?” Chikage is still speaking, taking the lead.

“I’m going to need you two to take a trip on my behalf. You two are our most important and reputable workers here, and I think you two would be a good pair.” He smiles fakely from behind the desk. “Could you two please do this?”

Itaru’s eyes widen open. Can this day get much worse? He wants to scream but he’s still in the office. Chikage still looks fine though, he notices, still keeping up the responsible front up, looking directly at Ishii, while Itaru looks at him with fish eyes, like he’s been asked to move the entire office building.

Chikage speaks up first. “Definitely. I would love this opportunity.” He side eyes Itaru to respond.

“Ah, yes, sure.” Shit.

“Great! You guys will be going by the end of this week! You two can go now. I’ll send you more information over email.”

Fuck. chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6

#a3 #a3!#a3! chikage #a3! itaru #a3! chikaita #ckit #chikage utsuki #itaru chigasaki #a3 fanfiction #a3! fanfic

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