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#fair warning there's a lot of stuff I simply have no interest in... like dont bother suggesting Good Omens im sorry
allgremlinart · 8 months
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does anyone have any recs for a good bingeable show.. I miss watching new stuff..
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thepowerisyouth · 2 months
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This started as a simple rant about gift cards but is probably turning into my master post on the lost story of the corporate gift card valuation crisis.
Starts as the simple rant but gets more technical in economics and accounting as it goes on- so fair warning.
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Gift cards are often thought of as a boring, low effort gift, although more polite than cash. Plenty of good reasons why they are a bad gift from a thoughtfulness standpoint, but I'm going to focus on the financial value.
Adult humans that live under capitalism are generally, learnedly able to understand the time value of money, even if they cant physically execute the calculations on paper. If you dont believe me, just trust me-- its how all of economics works. We are generally able to value things very well according to our own subconscious estimations.
This is not to say people who receive a gift card are just focused on the dollar figure, however I think the financial frustration lies with the fact that, inherently a $25 gift card is worth less than $25 cash. Probably a lot less
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As a present, gift cards remind me, actually, of the stereotype of a grandparent buying their descendents, "war bonds", but somehow gift cards are even worse.
Sorry this is going to be a long explanation of why gift cards suck--
A war bond, which is now simply called a US Treasury bill or bond, is a 'redeemable certificate', which allows the current owner to be sure that the dollar amount (face value) shown on the certificate will be granted, plus interest accumulated from the point of issue until the present date, and the note is redeemable early in most common cases, and is redeemable at most banks or financial institutions around the world. Well... they might not now but they are supposed to
Section 1. Bond overviews
These Treasury bonds are just debt that the US government, i.e. the taxpayers, have to pay back to whoever purchased this bond.
Economics is intended to be confusing to understand, an example of this being how they love to make it hard to understand that every time you hear about bonds and interest rates they are talking about gambling with our public taxpayer debt. Calling it "buying bonds" makes it seem more normal investy stuff
Anyway-- so this is debt right? Well like all debt, it requires a good credit score, and collateral. The official term is "backed by the full faith and credit of the United States Government"
In summary of this section using numbers:
If you get a treasury bond that says $100 & 5% annual interest, the Treasury department guarentees you can receive $100 amount in the future (maturity date), as well as $5 per year for your troubles, unless the US government is toast at any point.
If the holder sells the bond prematurely on the 'secondary market'--which is the clever term for the stock market for bonds-- they might get more or less than the "face value" depending on current interest rates, if those current rates differ from the interest rate set on the bond at hand.
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Section 2: Basic Bond Valuation
So using previous example, the face value of $100, and that only comes back from the treasury department on maturity day (up to 30 years away now for long term bonds)
So in the meantime, people "trade" (gamble most of the time) those bonds on the market. Cause why the fuck not?
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Most of the time, in a non inflationary environment, bonds with expiration dates of less than 5 years do not change price much at all in this 'secondary market'.
Why? Well--
In an inflationary environment (only recent examples are 1970s & 2020s) most bonds are decreasing in value, with the lowest interest rate bonds decreasing the most. Every other period has bond prices generally flat (so you still get the 5% interest) or trending up
The economic mechanics behind what lowers bond prices in high interest rate environments is pretty simple-- if I have a 30 year loan the government owes me, with 5% annual interest, and the guy who bought the same 30 year bond back in 2017 only got 2% interest, then I have an inherently more valuable loan or bond.
Going to start circling back to gift cards-- A 0% bond is only worth more than a negative interest bond.
(looking at you japan they were briefly paying banks 0.5% interest to borrow money from the government. As in a -0.5% interest loan)
Okay gift cards time
$25 Gift card = corporate bond of face value $25, with 0% interest, and is only redeemable in person at the companies restaurant with immediate purchase of their product
A gift card is identical then to the boring "war bond" gift, except that:
1) it can only be redeemed at their limited locations in person, and only with immediate purchase of their product or service
2) this certificate does not accrue any interest, which means that from a value standpoint its guarenteed to lose value over time unless interest rates are below 0% like japan had
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Again, most people are very capable of understanding that the value of a 0% corporate bond which cannot be easily sold is worth less than the face value-- much less. Just most people probably dont have the experience in finance to put to words why exactly that situation is so frustrating from a financial standpoint
What a stupid gift, cash is way better.
Especially in an inflationary environment like the 2020s. my god the valuation loss of all the gift cards recently is incalculablely enormous
It would be a very snarky, not nice response to being gifted a gift card if the receiver replies back that the technical market value of this $25 gift card is actually $14.75 due to the current globally high interest rate environment in addition to the company having a BBB Moody's credit rating rather than a perfect AAA
I'm very, very tempted to do a sample valuation of a random hypothetical gift card to reinforce this point, but valuations arent quick and I already know it would take me half the day just researching the numbers to put together for it
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I had no idea I was going to have this much to say but we're on edit #4 to this post Im gonna keep going:
The inflation of the 2020s has led to the largest (by dollar value and probably other metrics) corporate bond valuation crash of the.. ever
But corporate bonds are mostly held by the upper middle class & higher, as well as other corporations. So of course we hear them crying about their loss of wealth. Easiest example can be found by looking for the annual returns on an ETF which trades only corporate bonds. They got fucked in 2021 and arent back yet
What I'm getting at is that most poor people do not own individual bonds-- its just not really something that makes sense as a poor person.
Back to poor people's wealth--
Someone who has a retirement funds might invest in corporate bonds through that fund. But dont get me started on how complicated those funds investment strategies are to mitigate the risk (but yes they arent good at risk mitigation lose value a lot from dumb preventable mistakes).
And also looking at 5 yr price charts for many retirement funds, the ones with more corporate bond holdings have done way worse than their peers in the retirement fund game who put more money in stocks over that period
Poor people do, however, give each other gift cards... a lot. Weve kind of been told for a long time that its a more appropriate gift than cash. I wonder whod want us to think that. Maybe the corporations who are getting away with selling hard-to-redeem junk bonds as "gift cards"?
Likewise with all corporate bonds lately, the total balance of gift cards issued & held by the general public is larger than it has ever been in prior decades like the 1970s. There was issues with gift cards then, just the total amount was much, much less
Except probably not anymore-- only the face value being reported on their financial statements is that high, as accounting standards do not require companies to regularly value their gift card balances at market value. They are allowed to report it at face value, until it is removed from their balance sheet and resolved as pure income. Not 100% sure the GAAP guidance for it, but I know they dont HAVE to specifically mark down gift cards as they dont have expiration dates. I know that if a company did need to mark down that debt balance for whatever reason, the only way to lower that balance is by calling it "other income".
So poor people have felt a multi-billion dollar loss of wealth from gift card values, which is obviously not ever going to be studied or talked about cause who the fuck cares about poor people
And when that loss does get "realized" from an accountant standpoint-- it would be considered income for the fucking corporations.
Actually reminds me of Starbucks class action about the gift card balance. Lot to dig into there but thats more because of their extra predatory practices around redeeming it
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olivarryprompts · 3 years
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Fanfic Friday #11
Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I post a new here and on A03. Enjoy x
Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/33567529
{fancy suits from dad}
Ships: Peter Stark & Tony Stark, Pepper Pots/Tony Stark
Warnings: swearing, just fluff otherwise :)
Wc: 2,319
Here’s the thing, Peter Parker grew up in Stark Tower, which eventually became Avengers Tower of course. So whilst his whole class was buzzing about their field trip, all he could think was, “shit, shit shit.” His dad was going to embarrass the hell out of him. His Aunts and Uncles were going to endlessly tease him.
So, no Peter was not looking forward to the field trip. Not in the slightest. He still wanted to go, though. He knew that the rumors of his internship being fake were started by Flash, the annoying teen. He also knew that Flash had not once said his real name, preferring the name Penis Parker. It didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Also since highschool began, Flash had calmed down with his bullying. Well, maybe Flash hadn’t calmed down and high school was just bigger and he had thicker skin. And a new support system with plenty of people to go to.
Peter had been adopted by the Starks when he was a mere ten years old. At first, he was terrible at receiving any gifts or even too much attention. Slowly but surely, he got more and more used to it. Now, he wouldn’t not know what to do if any of that was taken away. Plus, he really did find a liking for expensive suits, however shallow. He looked good in them, and his father always insisted on buying him more and more. Tony would always find an excuse to spoil the kid a little more, however much Pepper tried to stop him.
“Peter, please see me after class regarding an urgent matter.”
Brough out of his thoughts, Peter swiftly nodded his head.
He looked at the board to see the words from before still written on them, “Field Trip to Stark Industries!” It might as well have said, “Dig Peter Stark’s Grave!”
“So, let’s get started with today’s lesson, graphing imaginary numbers on the complex plane!” He’d done this one a while back with his father. Something about not only learning applicable science and engineering. Peter tapped his glass, and the episode of Arrow he’d been watching on the car ride over began playing. He’d be ever grateful for his father’s gift of EDITH to him. Pepper had tried to ban him from wearing them to school, but hastily gave up when Peter pulled the spiderman danger card.
“Alright, class dismissed. Please remember to do this homework pages 11-18 on this unit’s homework handout.”
Peter, forgetting his teacher's previous request, was very glad to be on his way home. He was one foot out of the door when the teacher called his name. Now, his day had gone pretty well up to that point. Bucky made pancakes for breakfast, which were delicious. There was wayyy less traffic on the way to school. He’d aced an essay and a couple of quizzes, and then he even participated in PE effectively. But alas, all good things had to come to an end.
“Mr. Parker? The discussion.”
“Right,” Peter thought, joining the teacher at his desk.
“Peter, you are truly a great kid. I know you’ve been through a lot recently and in your life, but it is no excuse to make up an internship. We both know that it is not real. Now, acknowledging that you have a bright future, the administration and I have come forward with an offer. If you agree to write an apology, expressing that you understand what you did was wrong and immoral, you will both be allowed to come on the trip and no punishment will be given to you. If you choose to not take this opportunity, you will be banned from the trip and will be chastised.
Peter just stood there, not really comprehending. Apparently Flash’s little rumors were a lot bigger than he anticipated.
“I-i-I’m not lying,” was all he could manage. He had filed all the right paperwork and proved his internship.
“I’m sorry to hear that you will not come forward with the truth. You have up until the day before the trip to hand in the letter if you change your mind. Goodbye Peter.”
Peter just let his legs take him out of the classroom, then out of the school, and then to the road, a couple blocks away, where his dad picks him up from.
“Hello mini-me.”
“Hey,” Peter said, jumping into the passenger seat.
“‘Hi Dad, thanks so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to pick me up each and every day. Sick new car by the way! I’d love to drive it sometime!”
Peter just rolled his eyes with a smile, “Car looks great dad. McLarren’s are superior yet.”
“Ungrateful, so so ungrateful. What’s got you in a mood then?”
“Nothin,” Peter said, pulling out his phone.
“Oh come on, tell me. Tell me or I’ll call Ted.”
“Ned, Dad. We’ve been friends for like three years.”
“Not the point.”
“Just something at school.”
“Wow how very descriptive. You know I’m trying to do the whole feelings thing here, and you should appreciate that coming from my emotionally stunted self.”
“You’re so dramatic. Basically we’re having a field trip to your tower, and I’m not allowed to go because the teacher doesn’t think I really have an “internship.” Which, to be fair I don’t but that’s on you and not me.”
“Nah na na. I offered you an internship, and you said I’d be bored.”
“It would be. Doing a project for your company under strict supervision of some person would be sucky. I mean I can do anything I want from the lab you built me.”
“I know, but remember technically you are my intern. Remember we did that whole personal intern bullshit for the school.”
“Oh right. Is that why you keep harassing me about submitting all my completed projects.”
“No, that’s all your mother. Something about not wanting a lawsuit over a fake internship.”
“Make sense. She tends to be a lot smarter than you.”
“Ah, I feel so attacked. The abuse I suffer.”
“You’re terrible.”
“I am internally crying, kid. Sobbing.”
“Shut up,” we laughed.
“Who’s home?”
“You saw Buck and Sam this morning. Nat and Steve came back from their mission this afternoon. Thor and Loki are back for dinner tonight.. Strange might be coming round, not sure though. Cliff and the family aren’t back for at least a couple weeks. Oh and Bruce is wholed up in his lab as usual.”
“Shit. Everyone staying till the end of the week.”
“Yeah, oh the field trip. You’re screwed. You should have not told me.”
“Ughhhhh!!!”
“I love your life Petey.”
Peter walked into the kitchen and saw Steve reading a newspaper.
“Uncle Steve! Your back!” he smiled, dropping his bag off near the sofa. Steve got up to give the smaller boy a hug.
“Yep. Mission completed.”
“Nice. Can you tell me about it?”
“Yeah, it was nothing too interesting. We just needed some more intel into a terrorist organization stationed in the US. Most of the mission was recon. The next steps are being taken in a couple weeks.”
“Good to know there’s an active terrorist organization out there,” Peter said lightly.
Steve just smiled, not quite understanding the modern humor.
“Where is everyone else?” he said, realizing the living room was not in it’s normal chaotic state that he’d come to love. The chaos was his favorite reminder that he had so many people. He liked having lots of people, even after all this time.
“Nat and Buck are training, they invited you to join if you want. Bruce is in his lab, and dont worry he slept and ate last night. Not sure about the rest.”
“Right, thanks. I think I’m going to go train.”
Before he knew it, it was Friday morning, and his school was coming to his home. He was going to try very hard to ignore them. To do so, he asked his mum to let him sit in on some meetings. He had an easy in to the R&D and mechanical side of the company via the other interns. He was actually planning on hanging out with some of the “other” interns later that day. They were always happy to let Pete in on their projects and let him give them a hand. But he was always interested in getting more detail about the business side of the company, and he liked to get a window into it. Pepper was always happy to show her son the ropes. I mean he was heir to the company after all, even if he didn’t know yet.
He asked his mum to only schedule meetings after 12 as he requested a sleep in. Pepper was always happy when Peter slept as he was a little too much like his father. So, he woke bright and early at 11:00 o’clock.
After a scroll through his phone and a quick shower, he was ready to pull on his far too expensive Brunellio’s custom suit. It was one of his favorites. His father had got it custom made when he was in Italy, and told him he simply could not resist getting one for the kid. Pepper just smiled.
He had a large breakfast (enhanced metabolism) and headed towards the 34th floor where his first meeting was located. He’d been shadowing his mum for almost a year now whenever it was convenient, so he had the rointine down. He was almost sure he could take over a few of her meetings.
“Hi honey,” Pepper said, giving the boy a quick kiss on the cheek on the way to her own chair beside him. Peter blushed before resuming his professional posture and facial expression.
“Good morning everyone, as you can see Peter will be joining us today. I want to talk about some of the services we provide for our employees and their feedback. I’m aware we have a large portion to talk about so Kendra please take it away on that front.”
The first meeting went smoothly as planned. It was a discussion on the progress of the internal services, aka the IT department. Peter hadn’t learned much about their IT department, so it was good to listen in to. Pre these meetings, he, of course, does research into the background stuff, so he’s not completely lost. Pepper’s assistant usually provides him with a packet of info about the Stark Industries side of things. He is also given a list of key words and concepts he might want to make sure he understands. The research is fun for him, it makes him feel all professional.
Usually he spoke during the meetings, asking a couple questions and suggesting some ideas, but for this one he just learned and took in. The next meeting, however, was very much so his field. He’d spoken a lot with advertising, becoming very interested in the data analysis behind it. He even took a stats class so he could keep up. In that one he asked questions Pepper was on the verge of asking twice. He also contributed to the analysis of data once. Pepper usually liked him to participate as it was good for him, but he always felt bad suggesting stuff to the senior adults. He usually spoke to his mum or dad about projects for the company, preferring that.
They hung back in the room of the second meeting.
“Good job in this one Pete. Took two questions right off my tongue.”
“Thanks ma,” he said, always appreciating some approval.
“That’s all I’ve got for you today, kid. Rest of the stuff is, ya know.”
“Course. Thanks for these two. It was good to learn about internal affairs a bit more. Have a gap of knowledge there.”
“Yeah. Was that the first time meeting our CIT?”
“I believe so.”
“Well, next time we have a broader IA meeting, I’ll pull you outta school,” Pepper suggested.
“Really? That’d be epic.”
“Course, hun. Jarvis, sort that out please.”
“Of course Mrs. Potts.”
“Thanks J,” Peter yelled.
“Anytime mini-boss. No need to disturb the entire floor.”
“Are AI supposed to be so snarky?”
“Dad programmed it, what else would it be?”
“Valid point.”
“Right, got to run. See you later.”
“Bye, love you mum!”
“Love you too, Pete.”
“Jarvis, could you send me the tour plan for the visiting tour today?”
“Absolutely, sir. They’re on your phone now.”
“Thanks J.”
Looking at the plans Peter smiled. He had successfully avoided them the entire day. It said they were supposed to head back to school at 2:30, and it was about to be three. Smile on his face, he trotted down to the lobby to grab a coffee before going to meet Loki at the arcade. Don’t judge them, it was their thing. Taking the private lift down, and then walking straight to the coffee stand and ordering.
“Mr. Parker!” he heard the angry voice of his teacher, “How dare you show up here aft-”
Shit. shit. Shit.
“Edith, call dad, and tell him it’s urgent in the lobby.”
“Of course Peter.”
“Peter, are you listening to me! You are going to face extreme consequences for this.”
“Your coffee,” the man said, not realizing it was Peter, level ten personal of the tower, that was being yelled at.
“Thanks.”
“How dare you get coffee! In this building! Security!”
Tony arrived spotting his son instantly.
“Kid this best be impor- I see.”
“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said weakly.
“Mr. Harrington is it? Please stop harassing my intern.”
“H-he, he is y-your intern?”
“Yes. My favorite. Please exit the building and never question him again. You will be hearing from me.”
Let’s just say, Monday was an interesting day. At least Flash backed off, he was definitely an intern at SI, and no one embarrassed him on the trip.
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albatris · 2 years
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hi!! hello!! you are my favourite artist on tumblr and you're very cool!! i would like to ask... how do you deal with people being rude about art? like, when you work really hard on something and show it to someone and they're just like "[blank] looks weird i dont like it". ty for your time and have a good day!!
hello!!!
aaaaahhh for real?? thank you so much!! I'm glad you enjoy the art and you think I'm cool :O
hmmmmmm well, idk if I'm the best person to ask because usually my knee-jerk reaction is "spiral about it and become super sad" lmao
rude comments throw me completely off my rhythm and it's very hard not to let them get me down. rip
I think it's perfectly okay to be upset about that kind of thing! it's a huge bummer! honestly, feel your feelings about it, if you wanna be sad and/or mad you can do that
in terms of how I actually handle it outside of my brain?
hmmmmm
for starters, affirmations! know your art has value, know you're constantly improving, know it's much easier to throw around rude comments than it is to create and artwork and be brave enough to share it! you're fine! your art is good because you made it! do your best not to internalise rude comments or take them personally. just because something is not to someone else's taste doesn't mean it's not wonderful and good! art is such an individual thing, which means what one person doesn't like someone else will likely adore!
but ya
if it's a once off thing, usually I'll just let it slide and be like "well, that was a dick thing to say but it's not helpful to me so I will (with great mental effort and lots of coping skills) place it aside and not let it get to me"
honestly my best advice is just to not let it take up any more space in your brain than necessary, don't dwell on it, don't let it dampen your enthusiasm, push on anyway and continue creating
it's not personal! and if it's not helpful, you can disregard it! you are the master. all hail
my following paragraphs....... are possibly dubious advice. or maybe not. I have no idea! it can quickly stray into "hey focus super hard on this thing and obsess over it" which is not my intention. but you did ask how I deal with it so I can ramble if I wanna
so sometimes "just let it slide" is not realistic, such as if it's happening consistently with a particular person, or perhaps your brain just likes to pick stuff apart like mine does and will do it regardless, in which case - here's the process I take If I Have To Think About It or address it verbally with people
(FAIR WARNING this effort is something I've always tried to reserve for folks I have an established relationship with. if rude comments come from people you don't even know or stray strangers on the internet - honestly just don't even bother, it's not worth your time)
(feel sad if you like, be bummed, but they are Not worth the effort of puzzling out or dwelling on)
(unnecessarily rude comments from passing strangers are Literally Nothing. crush them under your shoes. you are god I think)
anyway
first I'll consider where the comment might be coming from! it could be from someone who is simply rude and unpleasant who enjoys dragging others down, or perhaps it's a situation where someone has not realised they're being hurtful or that what they've said could be taken as rude, or maybe it's just someone having a bad day, y'know?
I've had my fair share of friends particularly back in high school who fell into the first category - I eventually twigged that they were saying these things literally just to get a reaction or fuck with my self-esteem. and like, yeah! I was learning and my art was Not Great! but they did not want to help or support me, they were only interested in being dicks
how do I deal with those people? well, I don't! eventually I was just like. fuck 'em. these people kind of suck
I chose to cut contact with many later down the line, but to be fair, there were many other reasons for this and a lot of leadup where I'd discussed my boundaries and those conversations were ignored. like. I cannot emphasise enough there was Other Stuff Goin On
for this kind of person in general, one who simply says rude things because they want a rise out of you or for whatever other reason, it may be in your best interest to tell them you don't want their comments anymore, or to not share your art with them
people who are intentionally rude like this and dismissive of something you put time and effort and love into have no right to share in your joy and creation. you can still be friends with them or share in other experiences, but if trying to share your art with them consistently gets you down, then you gotta protect yourself n such
(if they are purposefully overstepping boundaries though - for anything, not just for art - you are allowed to ultimately say "fuck 'em" like I did. your boundaries deserve to be respected whatever they are)
if they are perhaps intending to offer constructive criticism but it's not working for you or you didn't ask for it and it's making you feel bad, you can either tell them you don't want or need those comments right now, or perhaps also try to find some people to share with who will cheerlead and go out of their way to point out what they like rather than what they don't! balance the scales a little, yeah?
if you think someone falls into the second category, and is perhaps just not registering that what they're saying could come across as hurtful, I would suggest having a gentle discussion about it with them! it does not always come from a malicious place, even if hearing it hurts. explain your feelings and have a conversation about it! if they're a decent person they will probably be glad to talk it through to find a way you can both be comfortable and on the same page c:
n for the third category. ehhhhh. idk! for me I usually just shove those "maybe they're having a bad day" people into one of the other two categories
if they're frequently Like This, I'll stop engaging on the topic because, regardless of what they've got going on themselves, I don't have to put up with their negativity. not my problem. if you're a dick you simply Do Not Get The Art Anymore. if you're a HUGE dick you simply Do Not Get The Logan At All Anymore
otherwise, I'll try to have a conversation or I'll just let it slide and try not to take it personally c: (if it's a friend having a bad day who I assume didn't mean to be rude or was perhaps dismissive because they're anxious or stressed, I'll usually also try to figure if there's anything I can do to help them out)
lastly...... I've gotta mention for me personally, I can be. defensive. about my hobbies. I can be very sensitive to criticism and I have more than a dash of paranoia going on in general. occasionally the answer is just "oh this comment was actually not rude or dismissive at all - I am just paranoid and stressed and have a history of people being rude and dismissive so I'm extremely tuned into things that come across that way"
that is NOT meant to invalidate you or dismiss you - you asked how I handle rude comments and I trust your judgement completely on what constitutes a rude comment
n for me sometimes I have to double check what kind of headspace I'M in before I try to figure out how to respond to others - if I'm already paranoid or stressed out, I will NOT dismiss my feelings, but I may leave it be for now and not react at all until I've leveled out and can approach it more objectively c:
anyway that's all from me!
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thetriggeredhappy · 3 years
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Could i request an ace sniper fic? I really like that headcannon, and i dont think i've seen much fic about it
absolutely and hell yeah, anon. aspec sniper is best sniper. went with ace/aro specifically for this one but every iteration of aspec is fair and valid. also the demo-sniper-scout friendship because i love the idea of them hanging out
(no warnings)
-
Lunch break, Hightower. Scout and Demo were the only two who ever consistently visited Sniper in Hightower on account of being the only ones who would ever bother going all the way to wherever he’d posted up for the day, and they were aware of that fact, and so had started a habit of eating lunch up there with him whenever they could. It was a good system. Especially because going to that trouble had the added bonus of privacy, being able to talk about things they didn’t feel like talking about in front of the other mercs. Not that Sniper was particularly talkative—he preferred to listen.
Things they were embarrassed about were a topic, sometimes.
“—and so I’m beatin’ myself up over it, right? Like, yeah I’m barely scrapin’ by on my second senior year and workin’ one job for real and another one under the table and I’ve got sports the rest of the time so of course I can’t pay much attention to her, so figured she’d get annoyed, but I still felt bad right? But then, turns out, buddy from my track team sees her like four days after we break up holdin’ hands with some other guy!” Scout rambled from his place vaguely lounged back against Demo’s arm as both Sniper and Demo ate their respective lunches from their respectively marked tupperwares. None of them remembered who started it, but they tended to sit almost shoulder-to-shoulder, and it had escalated into leaning against each other and a wall and looking out over the field as they talked. “So, like, man, wantin’ to focus on her college stuff and too busy for dating, yeah right.”
“What you get, dating a lass who’s younger than you, lad,” Demo hummed around his mouthful.
“Yeah, yeah. Only a year difference, but man, felt it all at once, huh? Anyways. She got told off by a buddy of mine about it, and we had an argument at some point, but... yeah. That’s the messiest breakup I ever had, probably, just because everyone knew everyone,” Scout trailed off. Silence for a second. “What about you guys?”
“Told you mine,” Demo said, had to pause to finish his mouthful to get the rest out. “Chemistry class, dated three times, she cheated twice.”
“Oh yeah. Jesus, yeah, fuck,” Scout sighed, remembering. “Why’d you put up with that a second time?”
“She was cute,” Demo shrugged, almost dislodging Scout and jostling Sniper a little on accident. “Ah, sorry Mickey.”
“Y’alright,” Sniper assured under his breath.
“Any messy breakup stories for us?” Demo prompted.
Scout tilted his head a little back towards Sniper. “Hey, yeah. I feel like I ramble about relationship stuff like, constantly—“
“You ramble about everything constantly,” Demo teased.
“Eh, fuck you,” Scout said offhandedly, rolling his eyes. “But I talk about that stuff constantly, and Demo brings up stuff sometimes, but you’ve, like, never told us any stories.”
“Not much to tell,” Sniper shrugged simply. “Not my thing. End of story, really.”
“Not your thing?” Scout repeated, audibly confused, sitting up a little bit to look back at Sniper. “What’s that mean?”
“Never much liked dating, relationships, any of that,” Sniper replied without needing to think too deeply about it. “Didn’t care much, that’s all.”
“Thought that was me as well for a while,” Demo said carefully. “Realized I just didn’t have time for it, mostly, between the job and friends and that, so I’d rather wait until I do. Same with you?”
“Nah. Had the time, had the energy, just didn’t like it. Not my speed. Made me uncomfortable, mostly,” Sniper murmured, itching idly under his hat. “Went out with a few sheilas from around, they’d either properly like me or not, and... I just never liked them much. Mostly went because I didn’t know what else to do. Thought I was turning down too many chances, something like that. But then I figured out, nah. Just skip the whole thing.”
“Wait, for like, dating? Or for one-night stands?” Scout asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“Both. Or, er, neither. Wanted nothing to do with either.” Sniper pulled his hat back on straight. “Figured for a minute in my, er... must’ve been mid-twenties? Figured maybe my problem was just that I was into blokes instead, but nah. Just as bad. Just as... nothing, really. So I stopped bothering with forcing it.”
“Good on you,” Demo said appraisingly, jostling him cheerfully, and the corner of Sniper’s mouth quirked up a little.
“Nothing, huh?” Scout repeated, musing aloud. “What, so... like, how people will go on a first date and just never try and call each other again? Just, no sparks? But for everyone?”
“Presumably. Don’t have a frame of reference for what those sparks are like,” he said, then sat up a little a moment later. “No, wait, I know I’ve felt, er... felt something similar. Not sparks, the, er, the nervousness. Then I realized that wasn’t a romance sort of thing, it was me being, er... jealous, and intimidated, and just thinking they were good-looking objectively. Happened with a few blokes, s’why I thought I’d try men for a while. Didn’t last, not past properly meeting them. That’s all, really.”
A nod of understanding from Demo, a general sort of ‘huh’ noise from Scout. A pause. “Would you ever do the, er... marriage of convenience, then? No risk of it getting messy,” Demo joked.
“Nah,” Sniper said, laughing a little. “Nah. Thought about maybe trying it for citizenship at some point, but only on paper. I don’t tend to stay places too long. S’why I like this job.”
“Man, I’m kinda jealous,” Scout huffed. “It’d kick ass to not have to deal with crushes and shit.”
“Eh. Sometimes I’m curious, what it must feel like,” Sniper admitted. “Wouldn’t change it, it’s just... interesting to imagine. I like romance novels.”
“Really?” both Demo and Scout asked, sitting up and looking at him, and he huffed a laugh.
“Can’t be that hard to believe. Liked Jane Austen later on in school, kept reading more. They’re... I liked fantasy when I was young, it feels like that. Adjacent. And I know what love is, I’ve got parents I love, had pets, had relatives who were essentially siblings, it’s just something different from the sort I know about. S’pose it’s, er... just strange sometimes, nice to laugh at the characters for being so ridiculous about things.”
“Don’t tell me you pick up novels from the dimestore, Mickey,” Demo said disapprovingly. “Or those dry historical ones. Tell me it’s all good, not just the same few stories recycled.”
“Only if I’m particularly bored,” Sniper admitted, and Demo made a sound of vague disgust. “And I don’t read much, besides. Have other hobbies.”
“Is it the same thing with why you don’t talk to the rest of us guys much?” Scout cut in, speaking for the first time in a bit. “Just don’t feel it? Not a thing on your radar?”
“Nah. That’s because I’m just not the talkative type. I like you lot plenty, it’s why I go sulk in the base with you all quietly, if I didn’t like you then you’d never see me,” Sniper replied. “If anything, I think it means I appreciate you all more. Less worrying about balancing things, all that.”
“That’s fair,” Scout said, settling back down, nodding vaguely. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
A pause between the three of them. “So I don’t have any particularly interesting breakup stories,” he added. “But I’ve got farm stories, if you’d like.”
“Obviously!” Demo laughed at the same time that Scout chimed an emphatic “Fuck yeah!”, and Sniper rolled into a story about how particularly dumb sheep are as farm animals, and that was the end of that discussion.
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creacherkeeper · 3 years
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How is the cowboi doing? :) I’d love to hear about some of their recent adventures.
OH WELL IT'S ME + ALSO MY DICE HATE(/love) ME SO YOU KNOW THEYRE GETTING WHUMPED CONSTANTLY LMAO
there have certainly been some Events Unfolding so those are under the cut, casey since youre in our campaign now NO PEEKING
fair warning this is .... long ..... you have asked me to talk about my dnd character and you simply CANNOT stop the floodwaters now. enter at your own risk
okay so basically the first arc of the campaign kind of kicked off with them getting a vision from their goddess (the grain goddess/goddess of agriculture) saying that she was trapped in a fey gate and that they needed to come rescue her
so erley immediately Rallied The Posse and set off to do that. they NUMEROUS times tried to pray to her, commune with her, basically just get ANY sort of communication or guidance from her, but the dice like to tell their story so i literally never got above an 11 (paladin with only +2 to religion my beloved) and they never heard from her, which was making them. pretty nervous. when it seemed like everyone else was able to talk to their gods just fine
well we eventually figured out that there was a huge gathering of fey in the woods (me: this might be too big for us to fight. what if its like 30 fey? / my dm, glancing at his notes where he has 2000 fey written down: (: ) and basically the fey like. had captured and were trying to kill what was left of the pantheon so they could bring back gaia as the One True God
we found all this out because it turned out several members of the party had been lying about how much they knew of the fey and had personal connections to the fey they'd kept hidden. and erley, who is ALSO HIDING A LOT from the party like. immediately went on the offense and was just generally very unhappy about this
there had been this fey merchant who kept popping up wherever we were trying to sell us magic weapons that seemed tied to us specifically. erley was always VERY suspicious of her and did everything in their power to stop the others from buying her weapons (which we literally had to buy with -5 to a skill point, not money, v sus) to mixed results. but basically when we got to the fey gathering (we called it gaiapalooza) erley rolled a 1 on their survival check to get through the magic field and like. got teleported to her. and they really wanted information from her so they basically were like LEORA I DONT KNOW WHO TO TRUST I THINK MY PARTY HAS BEEN LYING TO ME, CAN YOU TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT THEM CAN YOU SEE US WHEN YOURE NOT THERE? and basically pretended to need a therapy session in order to milk her for information lmao. she also seemed like. REALLY interested in erley and i was also very nervous about that
and i was RIGHT to be suspicious of her because we found out she WAS ACTUALLY THE BIG BAD and we had to fight her in the arc finale. and several of our party members had rl stuff and were not there, and in game our druid was away casting an 8 hour long spell to try and stop the palooza ceremony, so our party was SUPER nerfed and also as soon as erley realized it WAS actually leora who was behind all of it and she WAS trying to hurt them with those weapons (the weapons were tethers to the gods to be able to kill them basically), they got .... a little angry
and my party found out after irl a year of playing these characters that erley's first level is barbarian :))
so erley raged and did frankly a staggering amount of damage in this fight, and also only stayed up because of rage because they took a LOT of hits. but also. they dont rage FOR A REASON so it sort of took them over and when leora dropped, one of the other pcs ran over to stabilize her as she was making death saves and erley :) maybe :) drove a spear through her heart and killed her :)
and her body immediately just like. overgrew with plants and vines and flowers and basically wrapped the spear in a bed of plants and it was very cinematic and cool
(we have since found out that leora was like. actually an aspect of gaia so. that is. interesting)
of course then erley popped out of rage and was like FUCK this is why i dont do this, i went too far, it always goes too far, THIS is why im ashamed of this, and just got very emo boi about it. so they used their last spell slot to cast restoration on the space they had fought in and reached out to their goddess, having just saved her and the rest of the pantheon like she had asked them to
and i rolled a nat 1!!!
(the dm was like "you have committed this violent act, you feel so low and so bad and in need of guidance, and reach out to your goddess. and the absolute lack of a response just makes you feel empty inside" and i was like :) oh :) okay cool :) you love to see that with your paladins huh)
at this point the druid came back in and, instead of erley like. examining any of their own shit immediately lashed out at her and was like "why did you lie to me about the fey, why did you lie about why you were here, why ARE you here because i realize now it wasnt to help me"
and at that point ONE OF THE FEY QUEENS WALKED IN and the druid was like "... mother ..." and we were all :O
so it turns out the fey queen is her birth mom but had like? kidnapped one of the children of her firbolg tribe and was holding her hostage and the druid was on a quest to find her and bring her back
so erley :) felt :) even more bad about that :) and very shamedly pledged their help to her, and basically was like "as long as youre on this noble quest i will follow you if you'll have me"
so we're on our second arc now, which is traveling across the country to go meet the fey queen and get this kid back. as we were traveling my dm had me roll religion and a luck check and i got a 21 ON RELIGION FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER and a 6 luck. and he was like "you dont usually dream, but you have a nightmare. you know this nightmare was given to you, it was divinely inspired, but you dont know who sent it" and it was just erley killing leora over and over and over again. so they were like. well fuck
(my dm also messaged me privately and we talked and he was like. yeah you can get rid of your oath of devotion and change it to oath of the ancients, i am not telling you or erley why the subclass has changed and you also might get nerfed later. also level up barbarian for the next fight)
so erley was. feeling PRETTY DANG BAD and very guilty and stressed and all that. they did also realize their barbarian side was getting stronger which, considering their backstory is all tragic barbarian shit they were NOT happy about. i was fully prepared to have them be more ostracized from the party and go into full angst mode, but then the druid actually like. pulled them aside and explained why she had hidden information from them, and had a very sweet conversation with them and held their hand and it was VERY touching (she also had the baller line "you think your goddess can hear you and she's not answering. but maybe you're talking in a whisper and she needs to hear you scream")
we had another fight (we're level 7 and my dm told us after it was a cr 32 fight like. dude??? what the fuck?????) and once again erley didnt go down only because of rage
THEY ALSO UNINTENTIONALLY CAST MISTY STEP (which is an ancients spell they didnt have before) and were like WELL NO TIME TO UNPACK WHAT THAT WAS RIGHT NOW, HAVE TO NOT DIE
after the battle was over i asked to roll a check to figure out why i had access to that spell and got :) yeah you guessed it :) another nat 1 :) so erley has literally no idea how they cast that or what it could mean. we just had a new pc introduced who is a sorcerer so erley is definitely going to talk to her and see if she knows anything. because they are FULLY IN THE DARK about their subclass change or what that means in game
we're also (because of the fucking cr 32 fight) going to be leveling up again soon, and babey you KNOW im leveling barbarian. after rage kept me up and then rolling another nat 1 religion check, and also me the player not knowing whats up with their goddess/magic, i simply cant level paladin rn. so im BETWEEN A FEW SUBCLASS OPTIONS and ive been thinking them over but i think it really depends how the next few games go
my FULL ANGST option was to make them level into zealot barbarian like their awful dad, but i thought that made the least sense in universe rn
secondary angst option is to level into berserker, which i think fits pretty closely with how i've been roleplaying the rage so far. trading off an extra attack for a level of exhaustion fits pretty closely. also whump central
the NICE option is to have them be a totem warrior barbarian, and have both their paladin steed and their totem be a bull :) (they are a cowboi after all) i think thats the closest i can marry their two classes and potentially have some healthy growth for them, let them see that the rage doesnt HAVE to be a bad thing, that being a barbarian isnt something they HAVE to be ashamed of. reskinning the bear totem would give them resistance to all damage but psychic while raging, and im planning on taking the tough feat, so theyd pretty much be ... an unstoppable tank. plus i can still divine smite while in rage so theyd be VERY powerful
and now youre all caught up on my very special boi :))))) bet you didnt expect quite that much of an infodump but. listen. listen im simply obsessed with dnd i cannot help it. any chance to talk about my characters i WILL TAKE IN A HEARTBEAT (thank u for prompting my ramble lmao)
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what do you think of bakugou and endeavor redemption arcs?
SEE THE THING IS,
I feel like bnha is always on the precipice of like. Touching on some REAL stuff but it always backs out at the last moment.
First of all im a big hater of both characters so expect a biased opinion here (lol). But i do think they are “good characters” as in they are interesting and pertinent to the plot, complex etc. bleh. bleh bleh. but the way their arcs are written.... lots of things rly dont sit right with me 
**Fair warning i dont have the english skills to phrase this whole thing better.
1. Bkg first. I remember when bkg took the hit for deku i made fun of the whole thing bc OFCC thats how we r going to “redemp” him. Which in one hand ok, it does stay true to bkgs character bc he literally cannot communicate his feelings to save his life, hes more of an action guy. But also i really do think the buildup for that moment can be pushed more. And im not even gonna blame bkgs character entirely here bc he IS an established stubborn ass with the communication skills of a tadpole etc etc. what im gonna blame is the way horikoshi never lets deku even TOUCH on the bullying he’s endured before UA. Its literally never been discussed. Like the only time it IS brought up is the flashback we get right before bkg sacrificed himself. But deku, instead, never got the chance to process any of it. And i think thats my main problem with the whole bkg thing (and ofc there is a vindictive part where i feel like bkg hasnt got enough “repercussions” for it, which may be arguable, but thats a whole different ballpark).
i especially think bkg should apologize outright/address what he’s done to deku, but if horikoshi wants to drag that speech out (and thats if the speech will ever happen in the first place) i can accept that. BUT. to me. It has to be equal... as in deku should be allowed to address that too.
I get that deku is a virtuous main character who will supposedly forgive kacchan no matter what or whatever. And fuck it you know what, thats okay. But im begging let deku at least process it in some way. Bc the thing about deku’s character is whenever he gets angry, its always on behalf of someone else’s and not himself.
Which, again, is a virtue. But i also think the author tapping out on the whole bullying issue is kinda a coward move. Even when deku dukes it out with bkg its always about “im gonna get stronger and be number one kacchan!!111” and not “man you irreparably damaged my entire childhood and told me to [redacted] myself.”
literally the whole bullying nuance is casted out and replaced immediately with some boys will be boys rivalry. Which, really, just looks like the author taking the easy way out to me.
I can see how much both characters have grown, tho, and its clear that they care about each other. but the development is really :/ it leaves much to be desired wtf. 
I’m not satisfied w bkg’s redemption arc thingy but i dont expect anything better either. I think if i were to reread bnha from the beginning i can have a clearer perspective on the whole thing, but i dont really feel the incentive for that bc it simply doesnt compel me enough to do so LOL.
If its worth anything, i dont really hate bkg anymore. only sometimes lmfao
2. End*avor. Ugh.
Ok. I love family drama its like crack to me. the whole dabi thing had me yelling forreal. And todoroki fam has like some of my most favorite characters in the whole series.
I dont even wanna discuss end*avors character... like honestly, the ones that shine the most in end*avor redemption arc are the other family members and not end*avor himself. Which on one hand i appreciate but also i might be biased? But im really <3 over how we get todoroki rei’s character development from this arc. Not only is rei’s arc cathartic as hell but its also very, very encouraging to see a character stands over her ab*ser like that after suffering for so long. I cant express how much i love that. And fuyumi and natsuo? Insanity. I esp love how fuyumi’s efforts get the appreciation they deserve.
And i liked the surprise where dabi rained on end*avor’s parade right after end*avor thought he could actually redeem himself. Ok im not gonna sugarcoat it i just liked to watch dabi fucked him over, it was a standing applause eureka moment for me.
Honestly i think the whole concept is really delicious, like the son of the number 1 hero is a villain thing, heroes arent saints, etc etc etc. like that is so sexi so dramatic so soap opera literal superhero telenovela and i loved it a lot. Like i really enjoyed reading the whole thing. so like. i am entertained.
Do i feel like end*avor has redeemed himself? Mm NO <3. I appreciate the details that he himself thinks that he is unforgivable (blehh) and he DID suffer which was nice to watch, personally. but its not enough and it will never be <3 
im not sure if i think this way bc i just think what he did is irredeemable or bc the storytelling sucked OR BOTH <3. And i still do feel bnha did that thing where it backed out at the last moment with end*avor’s arc.... like it was touching it but it still didnt want to get its hands dirty, you know? Like what stance is it taking, really? It just never goes all out. 
i think some details about this arc also irk me...... like why does the rest family got to shoulder the burden of his fuck ups? <3 die <3 like this part annoys me so much. and seeing how he got to be comforted after everything he’s done.................................................... i cant even say how much that just ... pisses tf out of me <3 haha
like thats the thing. i feel like both characters (bkg n end*avor) are still coddled despite everything.
im fully aware im biased tho. and no i will not change
leaving that clownery aside, i didnt expect bnha to take this direction, so like. ..Applause i suppose :/. The recent arcs have been a pleasant surprise in some part and i will still be following its developments. i do genuinely think both characters are interesting btw i just kinda hate them lmfaooo. 
honestly, what i do. is just to keep low standards 🙌
TLDR I dont rly feel like either characters have redeemed themselves and i feel some disappointments over their respective arcs but i like the development n direction that the story is taking overall.
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aries-writes-shit · 3 years
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I'm gonna be completely honest here; Likely going to info dump/ramble excessively, high possibility of it including personal issues, fair warning.
To put it as simply as I can:
Romantic or platonic is fine
I am demi-pan(or omni)romantic, not looking to have biological kids for personal reasons also honestly I don't know how much gender would affect my attraction. I just find people pretty and am vibin. Usually I just say I am of the ace/bi spectrum.
I identify as female, going by she/they, gender neutral pronouns I just think should be normalized as a default when you don't explicitly know and even then be respectful.
I've driven myself into excessive isolation leading to being easily overwhelmed even if it's given certain tasks as I am forgetful and need explicit instructions as I believe I'm a visual learner but to be more specific things need to be explicitly spelled out for me a majority of the time. It's often a tedious process as well as me getting overwhelmed when put on the spot even if it's saying what I want to eat or even retrieving the food myself even in my own home.
But I need excessive time in retreating to isolation which consists me usually pacing around the kitchen, specific I know but even in other environments like hotels I often pace the kitchen space even if it's very small, and indulging myself in maladaptive daydreaming fueled by music to which I normally speak/mumble out loud, do random stuff with my hands animatedly which I don't always do when actually indulging in conversation with others, or just dancing late at night with my highly inconsistent and likely unhealthy sleep schedule of which I am nocturnal at this point. I do also sing a bit though I need another voice to go off of in feeling more comfortable in harmonizing with others.
I find interest in psychological subjects which I love to share with others if I hopefully am no bother so it's a mutually exchanged topic others can indulge in as well. Also I am a sucker for depth in stories tied to characters, development, details no matter if it's very small or if it is significant to the story or it's characters themselves.
I also am iffy about exchange of material items, though I do love specific silverware, cups, trays, the occasional jewelry (I favor rings or bracelets I guess? Necklaces sorta) if it means something to a close individual, and other small trinkets for me to admire or put to use.
My love language is quality time but what I love most is unapologetic, unfiltered, mutual conversation. With my tendency to overshare a lot of things despite my insecurities and hesitance I don't just want a listener. I want them to be invested as well. I myself do often put myself in the listener role though and am referred to as one's local counselor sometimes.
Very much radiating the burnt out gifted kid and mommy/daddy issues vibe because I've had enough trauma and damaged self worth from it but it's mostly inflicted upon myself rather than from others or in being inthe bystander/observing role or in being neglected. I grew up praised and spoiled really, even now referred to as such in my family, but in the present it overwhelms me and if anything I'd rather not do anything for others and them do nothing for me and in dismissing my existence.
Honestly I've developed a toxic mentality against myself, even being aggressive in trying to validate or dismiss issues involving myself alone.
I've made progress including ditching a habit of mine I've had all my life through sheer power of will and have stopped excessively apologizing for laughing as I find it annoying to some extent, though not as much anymore which is good. Though I will apologize for laughing when by myself and when breaking down in tears I end up having a personal therapy session in uncertainty about turning to someone else even though I am very open about my issues. I have no problem sharing information, I just overthink how it's recieved or if it's dismissed and insignificant so why try? Of course I'm also a hypocrite and validate others, trying to do so for myself gradually though it can be hard and becomes an aggressive battle mentally.
But yeah I usually put myself in the supporting role for others including friends and family even though I myself am the youngest to some extent.
I try to encourage a space of comfort and validation for others and as emotionally assertive or reassuring/validating I can be, often turning heartfelt though significantly more blunt and assertive, I also have crackhead energy sometimes to be honest. Often with strange mental conversations or comments spewing out, a significant questioning being related to society. People confuse, frighten, or entertain me a majority of the time.
Anyways yeah to put it simply (and sorry to go on a long tangent and apologies if I contradicted myself or if I sounded repetitive);
Chaotic individual of the ace/bi spectrum that is highly emotional with abandonment issues, familial trauma, high insecurities related to my mere existence, and I obviously ramble a l o t.
A (not so) few other details; compared to some of the giants I am a small marshmallow (not too fluffy but kinda-) standing at around 5'2" with an internal inferno of emotions I currently withhold inside me and instead giggling excessively or spilling tears when I get emotional. Or aggressively cussing but that's usually by myself, but I am a bit clumsy and forgetful overall. Also my sleep schedule is a total mess of which I may have previously mentioned and I have significant words and phrases taking up the majority of my vocabulary I put to use in writing or conversing. Also I can get significantly fired up about topics related to terrible parenting, terrible people in general, unnecessary gendered stereotypes and objects for no reason what so ever, and in validating others. Also I am a forgetful mess as I've stated I believe two other times. I can forget a topic entirely midsentence or go on tangents about unrelated topics while having originally interrupted myself. Also last minute note/s, I wear glasses and often joke about being blind as hell and needing my access to sight. And regarding what I wear I typically avoid branded material cuz of my unreasonable insecurities, and I go for more subtle things of black/blue but I do have other options. I just mainly go for subtle/reserved in appearance that's comfortable for me and I typically wear jeans and just- sneakers or crocs for the indoors. Also I can imagine the slight possibility of me snagging tops from my partner if they didn't mind, an example of me wearing other's things typically being my dad's shirts on occasion and the rare item of my mom's originally or my older sister.
Yep definitely went off, sorry if this is overwhelming or if it includes a ton of unnecessary details :')
Don't stress yourself especially at my expense please—
Sorry it took so long, heres your match!
C!Philza
Oh no, look the old man adopted another kid /s
This man raised two boys on his own, hes so ready to help you if you become overwhelmed
Learns what you order so you dont have to talk to the cashier if you dont want to
If you need to pace, he will step back and let you do your thing
Checking in occasionally to make sure your alright
Will definitely try and make you have a healthy sleep schedule
Will definitely listen to you rant about any topic you start to rant about
Its healthy to get things like that off your chest
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lemonietrinket · 4 years
Text
Jae’s Divine Intervention ||| Wonpil x Reader, Jae & Reader
Summary: Jae finds out about your crush on Wonpil and naturally takes the mick out of you. And when you get to play detective, you find out he’s perhaps more supportive than you would normally imagine.  Genre: Humour, fluff [if you guys dont find this funny then i... its just me] Warning(s): Some cursing all done in jest (2x sh*t) Word Count: 7735  Theme Song: Tonight - The Solutions; Dive - iKON; Hold - Winner AN: A request from anon, hope you enjoy! I’m sorry it took a while, it’s a lot longer than I usually write tho so I hope that makes up for it gender neutral reader
~~~
“Wonpil?!”
“Jae, I swear to christ—”
“Wonpil?!” Jae’s voice was rising in pitch by the second, a look of astounded horror on his face.
“Yes, Wonpil, what’s so—”
“Our keys? The snake? Our snake that plays the keys?”
“Really, you’re still using that? That’s like, three years old Jae—”
“You—you took one look at the pink sweater and went hmmm, yes, this is the hot stuff, real sexy—”
“Jae!”
“—any man that wears this I will date him on the spot—!”
“Jae!” 
The man cackled, leaning right back into his gaming chair with his head tipped over the side. “Oh my god this is just...!”
You pressed your tongue to your cheek, waiting for the grown man to gather himself up. Though, knowing Jae, it could well take a while. “You finished?”
He swung back, elbows coming to his knees with his eyes incredulous. “Kim Wonpil?”
“Yes.”
“Not Brian?”
“Why would it be Brian?”
He inhaled through his teeth, tutting. “It’s always Brian. And then, of course, yours truly.”
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “I regret ever talking to you.”
He sat back, sending you a smirk. “Nahh, you would never regret me.”
“Can we just go back to discussing like, dinner tonight?” you glanced distastefully around at his room, taking note of the pile of laundry abandoned by his wardrobe. “Like I came into your lair for in the first place?” 
“Hey, easy there—!”
“Honestly Sungjin would have a fit if he comes in here,” you announced, a mischievous glint in your eye.
“Well it’s a good job he isn’t coming in here.” Jae easily met your stare, pursing his lips, knowing full well that starting a battle with him would be the hardest you could try to win in the dorm. You backed down, but didn’t shy away from his stare as he pressed his fingertips together, taking on the role of a faux mastermind, “But no, dinner can wait, because this—this—is much more intriguing.”
Taking in the nod of his head, and the smug grin on his features, you realised that you weren’t going to escape as you’d hoped. Might as well be comfortable.
“Now,” he began once you took a seat on his bed, flicking a rogue sock to the floor, “start from the beginning. When did you realise that you were hopelessly in love with this, Mr Kim.”
“Since when was this an interrogation?” you interjected. “Also I am not ‘hopelessly in love’!”
“Infatuated?”
“No!”
“Lovesick?”
“Not a bit!”
“Helplessly inclined on the edge of your seat to hang upon his every little word?”
You didn’t even answer him that time and merely glared at him. 
He nodded pensively, patting a finger against his chin as he murmured, “In denial, interesting...”
“What?!” 
He changed tact. “Do you not know the exact time for your realisation for your deep feelings?”
“Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you,” you sulked, folding your arms crossly. He let out a quiet ‘aww’, which you ignored to the best of your capacity. “What has gotten into you?”
“I’m just trying to work out if you are,” he cleared his throat, “fit for my closest colleague and good friend. After all, we’ve been through so much, I wouldn’t want any harm to come to him—”
There were many things wrong to his wistful, jesting sentence, but there was one thing that you had to refute: “Last week you told Sungjin you would sell Pillie out for half a churro.”
His smart mouth stopped for a few seconds, and you figured briefly that you’d perhaps won and could leave. Alas, you were mistaken.
“Refers to Mr Kim as ‘Pillie’, indicating a very special degree of endearment, interesting...”
You groaned, falling back onto the rest of the mattress, asking the world what you’d done to deserve this.
Truth be told, Jae wasn’t worried for his bandmate or you in the slightest. Hearing your accidental slip of your feelings, everything seemed to come together at once and fit like two missing jigsaw pieces. You both had traits that accentuated the other, and you got along so well. If you two got together, he discerned, there would be few power couples that could compete.
He didn’t understand shipping culture, but this was perhaps his one exception. It just made sense! His soft charms next to your harder ones, your sense next to his sunny optimism, the both of you still sharing much in common.
“Six months,” you suddenly admitted.
“Hmm?”
“My, you do delight in my torment,” you grumbled before shooting him a look that softened as you continued, the memory trickling to the surface and making it impossible for you to not smile. “I’ve liked him for six months. It hit me when he fell asleep on my shoulder on our trip up to Incheon.”
One of those shared things being bouts of shyness.
He decided in that moment that it was time for some divine intervention.
“That’s a long time ago,” he mentioned, “and you haven’t done anything about it?”
“How could I?” you countered, though it was more sad than feisty. “How do I confess to the gentlest, happiest soul? How am I supposed to even know if he likes me back? He’s cuddly with everyone, you know.”
One glance at your crestfallen eyes that shone through your little chuckle lit a spark in his head.
“Don’t you worry, Y/N. God works in mysterious ways,” he reassured, sending you a wink.
And so began the grand unravelling of The Great Jae’s plan. 
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Step 1: Establish if the Feelings are Mutual
The first step, as Jae understood it, was crucial—nothing else could be done until he knew if the keyboardist also had a whopping crush on his friend. And they had made some fair points about how hard it would be to calculate whether Wonpil was just being friendly affectionate or more than that.  
So, to get the answer cleanly without collateral, Jae concocted a plan so cunning he could put a tail on it and call it a weasel.
The next day, Jae slipped into the practice room, after locating his whereabouts through a super secret and effective method dubbed as ‘asking Sungjin’. He strode up to the keyboard set where the younger was staring intently at one of the keys, swiftly adopting a confident stance—he would not be swayed by any sneak attacks, and especially not attempted deflections with puppy eyes: a weapon he knew his bandmate was highly proficient in.
Hearing him mumbling about whether they should invent a H note, Jae made the choice to enact Step 1, taking advantage of the possible surprise characteristic.
“Wonpil, do you like Y/N?” 
Peering up with his classic bright smile, Wonpil answered him swiftly, “Yeah!”
Jae frowned, the response seeming too quick. He had to comprehend it as a misunderstanding of his question. He pressed the charge. “Well, yeah, I figured you liked them, but I meant it as in more of a—”
“I know how you meant it, hyung,” he looked back at the keys, testing a C tentatively.
“Oh.” Jae was surprised to say the least. “How did you...?” 
“I’ve been waiting for one of you to ask me,” he explained poutily, “you always seemed to tease me about it when I didn’t have someone, and then as soon as I actually fell, not a peep.” 
Jae had to admit that the entire exchange had caught him off guard, as he became distinctly aware of how slowly the cogs were turning in his head. “You were... waiting?”
He nodded urgently at the sound board, twisting a dial as he held his ear closer to the instrument.
“You know the sound isn’t on right?”
“The key is squeaky.”
“Oh.”
“Of course I was waiting,” Wonpil replied simply, taking a simpering pause, “aren’t you going to ask me?” 
Jae watched as the younger suddenly sat up and swung himself to look at the legs of his keyboard stand, giving them a good wobble. There was no doubt a squeak then.
“Ask what, about what you like about them?” he suggested, not really sure himself. 
“Finally!” The younger threw himself back out from underneath the instrument. “Everything, hyung, I think I’m actually in love! Their laugh, their kindness, their eyes, their jokes—I feel like I’m going to burst whenever I see them, like into just, laughter, I can’t stop smiling, I just want to hug them and kiss their nose...” When he knocked his head back up to him, his smile was even brighter, his cheeks lightly blushed. “Is this what Younghyun-hyung means when he says that love hurts?”
Jae was more than happy to hear proof—it meant Step 1 was a success after all—but hearing the sap did mean he had to hide his grimace.  But now he was presented with a more severe problem, as he knew full well that wasn’t what the bassist, who could dip into the realms of emo territory, meant at all by that phrase.
It didn’t mean he was going to explain it. Especially seeing those eyes brimming with adoration for his closest friend—he cursed at himself giving into the puppy eyes after all. 
“Yeah, probably,” he answered vaguely, opting to change the subject, “well, I’d better be off, thanks!”
“Hey, hyung, where do you think you’re going?” Wonpil called after him as he attempted to make a tactical retreat, having gathered the information he needed. 
Jae turned around, lying through his teeth as his brain searched for an excuse. “I... well, I need to go and do...”
“Without wishing me good luck on fixing my keyboard stand?” he enquired, pouting childishly from the other side of the room.
“Good luck...?”
“Ok, you can go!” he announced, sending a wave. “Bye!”
And with that, Jae exited the practice room, frowning at his reflection in the glass of the window as he passed through. Wonpil was strange sometimes, that was for sure. 
It didn’t matter in the long run though, it was going to be your problem soon rather than his—a thought that elicited a snicker from him—and with Step 1 complete, he could proceed to Step 2. 
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Step 2: Create the Confession Arrangement
Jae had figured that the third step would have required the most work, but he had be drastically wrong. He’d presumed coming up with the perfect scenario for a confession would have been easy, but once he’d sat down in the living room to think in peace, an hour later he found himself lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, without a single idea in his head. 
Chasing the tails of all the ideas that taunted him and skipped just out of reach every time in his head, he barely heard the sound of someone else entering the fray.  And he would have continued to have done, had the newcomer not come to stand beside him and peered over his sprawled body.
“Hyung, are you ok?”
The deep voice snapped his eyes from where they were transfixed on the ceiling to the cherubic face of Dowoon, currently in the process of devouring a pretzel.
Jae snorted, still barely comprehending his presence. “Of course.”
The younger tilted his head to see him somewhat the correct way up. “Are you sure? You’re laying on the floor.”
“I am aware, and yes, a hundred percent,” he answered, putting on a confident front as best he could, “this, young padawan, is the sight of a master at work.”
Dowoon hummed in an agreement of sorts, “Oh, right.”  He took a deep bite of the sweet dough. “What are you working on?”
Jae finally recognised the notable rustling of a paper packet, his eyes falling to the treat. “I am devising the most wondrous plan the world has seen to—is that my vanilla pretzel?”
“No.”
He said it so quick and devoid of emotion there was no way to tell whether it was a lie or not. Jae was left peering up at the man as he took another bite, who sent him a thumbs up as a form of endorsement.  “Right. Well... I am devising a plan that will get Wonpil and Y/N to admit their feelings for one another and finally unite as the planet’s best ship and sail off into the distance together!” A victorious grin on his lips, he looked like a man that had already found success. “I have already completed Step 1 with peak success, now I must move to Step 2 and—”
“What was Step 1?”
“Finding out whether their feelings were mutual, of course!” Jae guffawed, surprised that Dowoon could not connect the two dots.
He peered over to him again to see him frowning as he angled himself to take the final bite of the pretzel. Before he could ask what the matter was, he preempted him, stating, “You didn’t know?”
That caught the eldest off guard. “What?”
“You didn’t know that they both like each other?” he glanced towards him, eyes expectant as he shoved the dough past his lips. “I thought everyone knew.”
“Well, I...” Jae coughed, quickly covering his back, “...there’s a difference between assumption and ascertaining proof, maknae. Now that I have evidence I may move onto Step 2.”
“And that is?”
Jae caught the tone of curiosity this time in the intonation of the man’s deep voice, making note to take advantage of it as soon as possible. “Create the confession arrangement. I must make a scenario where the only possible eventuality is that the two confess to one another their true feelings.”
Dowoon nodded, licking his fingertips free of leftover sugar.
“You wanna help?” he enquired, angling his head to get a better view of his band mate’s features, waiting for the smile to arise.
“Sure.” Discarding the paper bag on the coffee table nearby, he lowered himself to the floor, laying on his back and mimicking his elder. 
“Good choice,” Jae clapped, turning his attention back to the ceiling.
“What ideas have you got so far, then?” Dowoon began, drumming his fingers against his stomach as he followed suit.
“Well...” Panic filtered through Jae’s system, as he suddenly realised he didn’t have even the tiniest beginnings of a thread to follow, let alone a part of a suggestion. “We could lock them in a room,” his mouth said before his brain could catch up. He cursed to himself in his head. No, that was stupid. It was so inhumane! 
“What, like an escape room scenario?”
Jae’s head immediately tilted towards the man lying beside him. Yoon Dowoon, as things turned out, was a secret genius. 
Without warning, he laughed, getting to his feet and grabbing the younger by his hand to pull him up after him. “Yes! Exactly like an escape room!” He held him by the shoulders and asked, “Do you have any ideas for any puzzles? Or riddles? Could be an anagram, or a pattern somehow, maybe general knowledge based?”
Dowoon thought long and hard for a moment, and it showed on his face, his dark eyes going wide as his jaw dropped. “No, but I know where to get the keys to the locks on the doors.”
Their eyes met for a good few seconds as Jae mulled over the decision of whether to bring up how he had obtained such knowledge. He finally rationalised he’d ask at another less frantic time. 
“Great!” he exclaimed, before ordering, “You go sort that. I’ll go get some pens and paper. Be quick!”
And so Step 2 was in motion.
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Step 3: Organise the Confession Arrangement
“Ok, listen up soldiers,” Jae declared, “because here’s the plan.”
He was stood at the front of the work room beside a board that he’d stolen from the marketing block, proudly displaying a rudimentary plan of the dormitory and accompanied by several haphazard arrows drawn in a dying pen. He overlooked the rest of the room courageously, eyeing up his gang of abductees volunteers, who merely stared at him confusedly in return. 
“Why am I here, again?” Sungjin suddenly enquired, glancing around the room. “This surely is one of those Things-We-Don’t-Tell-Sungjin-About things, right? I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to know about this.”
“But none of us do...!” Jae uttered, rolling his palms to encourage the others to catch onto his meaning. They didn’t. “None of us know about it, yeah? Because none of us did it!”
“But that makes no sense,” Sungjin rationalised immediately, “because someone will have had to have set all the puzzles up?”
Jae didn’t have an answer to that. To both a blessing and a curse, however, he didn’t have to reply to that question. He just got another one in its place.
“I’m sorry, wait, what are we even doing?” Younghyun interjected, glaring at the hastily dictated plan with a curled lip. 
“Getting Wonpil and Y/N together, we’ve been over this, Brian.”
“Surely they can just... do it themselves though, right?” Sungjin countered, squinting at the header of the board. “It really doesn’t require an all-out, multi-step plan—is this Step 3?” 
“Good to see you’re checking the diagram,” Jae retorted.
Younghyun’s voice was incredulous, “How many steps are there?!” 
“Four.” It was Dowoon’s turn to interrupt, it seemed, and he piped up fluidly before Jae could try to regain any control upon the late night board meeting.
“What were steps 1 and 2?!”
“Step 2 was inventing this beautiful idea,” Jae started.
Only for Dowoon to finish, “Step 1 was him working out if Wonpil liked Y/N back.”
It was their turn to eye Jae up in disbelief, a chorus erupting:
“You didn’t know?!”
“How can you’ve not known?!”
“All he does is pine after them...!”
“Alright alright!” Jae called, pleading for the three to settle. To his fortune they did, but most likely only out of the prospective joy of him further making a fool of himself. “The past steps don’t matter, I need your help now to complete Step 3. You will all reap the benefits of Step 4, when this is all a success because—as you said—all Wonpil does is pine after Y/N. This,” he pointed assertively to the diagram, “will put a stop to all that!”
Silence settled over the room as the three all glanced at each other, all nodding in some form in agreement. 
Jae took the chance and continued, his hand laying out the directions on the board as he spoke, “So, all we have to is move Wonpil to Y/N’s room, and set up the puzzles in there. Sungjin, Dowoon, you’re on set-up, Brian you’re on lift duty. It is all objectively simple, but one wrong move could wake either of them up thus exposing the entire ploy and I’ve yet to come up with an excuse so you’ll be on your own.”
“Of course,” Younghyun muttered, not even bothering to look Jae in the eye to convey the sense of how done he was. 
“You’re not helping?” Dowoon piped up, his soft features portraying a slight hue of hurt.
“I can’t, Y/N already expects me. If I’m caught then there’s zero opportunity of a follow up plan—at least one that features me,” Jae explained, ignoring the mumbles of ‘perhaps it would be better that way’ that echoed around the room. He shot a look to the one he suspected the most of being the owner of said grumblings, watching as he leant back in his chair. 
“Can this not at least wait ‘til tomorrow?” Younghyun requested, emphasising his point with a yawn. 
“No! Y/N is out Saturday, and regardless we must strike while the iron is hot!”
This sent the energy of the room from benevolent boredom to startled flurry.
“It’s happening right now?!” The leader desperately looked to the eldest for reassurance that this was most certainly not the case, only to find none.
“Yep,” he stated, a shrug on his shoulders and a smirk on his lips. “Once you’re done, you make sure you leave no trace of yourselves and lock the door. Leave the key on the living room table and then you may return to your own rooms and do what you wish—as long as there is no noise. If their sleep is interrupted, the plan could quickly go south,” he finished with a clap, “now, positions everyone! And good luck!”
With only a few groans, the three practically sprung into action, much to Jae’s surprise. Dowoon piled up the props and prompts riddled with such in his arms, Sungjin holding the door for him and Younghyun who both head out in quick succession. 
“Thank you, Sungjin,” Jae called to the door. He received an expression of many emotions—disdain, disbelief, bemusement—all around a set of very bright eyes. He exhaled abruptly in what was a laugh that demonstrated that mixture, before leaving with the shake of his head.
It was showtime.
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You awoke gradually to the sun streaming through the wide gap between the curtains. Groaning, you cursed to yourself about how you’d forgotten to close them the night before.
After admitting that if you wanted to go back to sleep or even just lay in your bed in peace for a bit longer the curtains would have to close, you sat up, only to swear you had shut them the night before.
Rolling out of the covers dozily, you hobbled over to the window, squinting against the light, where upon the curtain tie you found a piece of paper dictating a series of hand-drawn triangles in shades of pink, grey and white. Rubbing your eyes you tried to detach it, only to find it secured with string. 
Feeling confusion flush through your bones as quickly as the sleep left them, you looked across the room to see another sheet of thin card this time, roughly torn at the corner and branded with a giant, rounded, crimson splodge adorned with a malformed triangle of green. 
Both thoughtless and speechless in entirety, your eyes frantically searched the room for further signs of intrusion. To your disturbance you found your room littered with rudimentary placards, decorated with strange arrows directing to one another, or strange looped calligraphy. One was stuck crudely to a Star Wars shopping bag, and as much as you enjoyed The Rise of Skywalker, you definitely did not have a bag for it. Another was blatantly an anagram. Making the mistake of looking up you were confronted with a gigantic poster of a film with the title and cast heading covered by MS Paint swirls. The image depicted seemed familiar, but it didn’t make their staring faces any less intimidating as they glared at you from your ceiling.  It was as if you’d walked into a nightmare that was haunted by puzzless.
“What the actual, ever loving f—” Your voice cut off as soon as your gaze finally rested back upon your bed. Only to find someone else in it. 
Thoroughly creeped out, your brain ricocheting through thoughts and questions like they were caught in a hurricane—who is that, how long have they been there, they were sleeping right next to me, they snuck into my room, is it a sasaeng, did they do anything—you were ready to charge towards the door and yell your lungs out for help.
Until the figure shifted in their sleep, their arms thrown up cutely by their head which peaked out from behind the duvet. It was Wonpil.
Breath catching in your throat, your hand clasped itself to your mouth in an effort to not shriek in surprise more than anything. 
You’d shared your bed with Wonpil. He’d been right beside you, his beautiful face just inches from yours, sleeping peacefully with his hands sweetly gripping the covers and his adorable little snores—
Your heart lurched at the image your mind conjured, for it to then crash over the fact that he had the audacity to sneak into your room.  The conundrum before you left you in turmoil—you couldn’t believe that you’d fallen so hard for a man who would break into your room in the middle of the night and disregard your privacy so blazonly. 
It didn’t make any sense. You’d known Wonpil for a while, and he showed so much respect the entirety of that time. Yes, he was clingy, but you could think of multiple occasions where you had told him to back off and give you space, because you were stressed or angry with someone else or even just too hot to let him lay on your shoulder, and every time he did. You couldn’t think of a single time when he came into your room without knocking either. 
But was that enough to discount the ‘first time for everything’ rule?
Given the circumstances, perhaps it was.
Regarding the mess of your room again, it was plausible that Wonpil could have put up some of the weird pieces of card, but he couldn’t have done it all—not without help at least. Taking in the height of your ceiling, he was too short to reach it. Had someone stood on your bed you would have woken up, there was no doubt about it, and you didn’t have a desk in your room, so there was no chairs to stand on. The nearest ones were in the others’ rooms, but it seemed too far of a stretch—especially since you knew that there was one person that could reach.
Jae.
You glared in disdain at the corner of your room as if you were on The Office, until you remembered that you weren’t alone in the room. 
Taking a deep breath you silently made your way across your rug to the side of your bed. Kneeling in the soft cotton you took in the sight of Wonpil closer this time, resisting the urge to stroke his soft cheek that he’d puffed out as he pouted in his sleep. Perhaps it wouldn’t be long before he woke. 
“This wasn’t you, was it,” you murmured to him, taking gentle delight in how he wriggled towards you in his sleep at the distant sound of your voice. He looked so sweet, and the concept of being able to wake up to him beside you every morning made heat rush to your cheeks like a tsunami. 
He was so good at making you smile, he could do it without even trying. The thought reminded you of when he had gone out of his way to somewhat try to, making you his chosen target for the only ‘prank’ he’d ever performed. He’d decided that he would for his prank debut place  tiny plastic dinosaurs around the place for you to run into. You’d been bemused, but only for a day, quickly finding him out after catching him placing one in the fridge. 
It was fortunate that you’d been reminded of the memory—even if you were primarily focused on how angelically he’d giggled a threadbare excuse that neither of you believed for a second but only made you fall in love further—as it that had been a while ago, and filling your room with strange and distastefully carried out puzzles was not what you figured his prank comeback would be. He would at the very least make them look nice. 
“I’m sorry for doubting you,” you whispered, tucking the blanket further to his chin to keep him warm before getting to your feet again. You had to admit, you got a bit of a rush out of playing detective, and with a theory hot on your mind, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you found evidence that proved it.
First you checked the door it discover it locked as you had expected. Then you moved to the puzzles.  Staring intently at the placards, you found that they all pointed to someone who was either awful at editing and drawing alike, or had simply done it in haste and didn’t care for the visual outcome. However this was not as concrete as you’d imagined. You definitely couldn’t see it being anyone other than Jae but after checking several puzzles and not seeing a single bad joke or reference in sight, you were beginning to doubt your first impressions.
Hearing the bed creak and a groggy whine muffled by a yawn, you flicked your head away from your wardrobe. There you found Wonpil sat up in a nest of your duvets at his waist, with dishevelled hazel tresses endowing him with faux cat ears or sorts. He was barely awake and hardly functioning, blinking lethargically while he slowly returned to the world of the living.
“Morning,” you greeted with a stutter, clearing your throat sheepishly straight after.
His lips spread cutely into a grin. “Morning...!” he sang. 
It took several minutes of you trying to maintain your gaze on the messy art piece that was sleepy Wonpil, before giving up and disappointedly returning to the barely-legible riddle in your hands, for the man to finally speak with up with a frown.
“Wait, why are you in my room?” he enquired, rubbing his nose. “Did you sneak in...?”
“Actually you’re in mine,” you corrected, squinting at the calligraphy so as to let him come to terms with the situation.
His eyes opened in a flash, glancing around the room in astonishment. “Oh my god why am—I’m in yours?!” He gushed with apologies. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t sneak in I promise, I don’t remember coming in here! I don’t understand... did I sleepwalk...?”
“If you did it would be a first,” you stated, chucking the paper to the bin near your closet and staggering to your feet, “it’s ok, Pil, I’m not mad. Besides, I think you were carried.”
“Carried?”
“You always were a heavy sleeper. But that does mean that Younghyun or Dowoon are in on this, which means I don’t understand what this whole thing is,” you explained, glancing up at the ceiling and sighing exasperatedly, “do you recognise that movie?”
Following your line of sight, he jumped at the sudden pair of eyes that he found staring at him. He shook his head. “N-no. Y/N... what’s going on?”
“Apparently the guys decided that for their latest prank they were going to make an escape room of sorts, and then stuck you in here with me for double the fun.”
“But why?”
You shrugged. “I guess they’ll open the door if we figure out all the puzzles of something. Problem is these puzzles are like, stupidly hard.” You pointed over to his right. “Like, why is there a mutant tomato on my wall?”
“Ew,” Wonpil said with a grimace as he beheld the visage of the red splodge. 
“I know right. Whichever one of the did it should never consider art school. Like, ever.”
Silence fell over the two of you as your eyebrows knit together, once again thinking over the possible answers to any of the dozens of puzzles. Wonpil meanwhile slipped out of your blankets and headed towards the door.
You had half a mind to call out to him and say it was locked, but you figured he’d already worked that out, so instead you watched him out of curiosity. 
He came to the door with a stop, rattled on the door handle once, then twice, before pressing his face close to the wood. “Sungjin!” he wailed, before pressing his ear to it to listen.
For several moments there was complete utter quiet over the room and the dorm outside. The only sound that could be heard was the birds outside, and even they broke into quiet when they heard an unusual absence of chatter. 
Then out of the blue Wonpil stiffened in his place, before leaning in even further, his features alert. 
After a few seconds you enquired mimicking the quiet, “What is it?”
“I think I just heard someone tell Sungjin that he ‘needed to remain strong’,” Wonpil looked at you quizzically, “what does that mean?”
“Sungjin’s in on it too?” You were hugely surprised by that, so much so that you couldn’t hide it in your voice, the volume tipping out of the realms of a murmur. You’d thought it was a certainty that Sungjin was not aware of what was going on, because he was too mature to play along. But you’d clearly gotten him wrong this time around.  “Th-that must mean this is serious,” you continued, slipping into a slow pacing motion across to the window and back, “that it’s super funny, or that he goes to seriously gain something from this.”
“But how is this funny, I’m not laughing...!” Wonpil said with a pout audible on his lips. He wondered if there was a funnier side that he was missing out on due to his concern for you overpowering it. He didn’t like how you stepped back and forth, even if it was only slow and steady and hardly impulsive. He didn’t want you to be stressed, he wanted you to be happy.  It dawned on him that it was becoming increasingly harder for him to hold himself back from meeting you part-way and bring you to a stop, his hands brushing your shoulders and squeezing them gently in reassurance as he met your eyes— He shook his head, sending him hurtling out of his imagination just in time to hear you agree.
“Exactly, unless he wrote some of the riddles and his sense of humour was not what I thought it was—what we thought it was.”
“But Sungjin would never use stuff this bad!” he cried, hand motioning to the poorly executed diagrams while his eyes trailed away from you and onto the tomato on the wall. “He would be much more careful than... that—I don’t think he ever could make something that ugly!”
“Exactly!” you echoed his tone of urgency. “Which means he stands to gain! But what the hell does he get out of locking two people in a room with a bunch of evil puzzles?”
Watching your form become gradually tenser by the second, Wonpil’s resolve against his desires loosened before unravelling entirely.
He strode unusually powerfully across the floor, his body blocking you and your pacing in your tracks. His proximity startled you, but as his hands came to gently held your shoulders you realised how tense your body had accidentally become.  Taking a deep breath as best you could with the biggest crush you’d ever had standing right in front of you, you slowly began to calm down. It was just a stupid prank, there was really no reason to get worked up to that extent, or anywhere near it. 
Your thoughts drifted from the circumstances you were currently trapped in however, supplanted by the feel of Wonpil’s touch, and the way his eyes met yours. His eyes were so pretty you felt yourself sink head over heels in them whenever you accidentally made contact. And the emotion that filled them to the brim at that moment and let them glimmer even more than normal in the radiant sunlight caught you even further off guard. You’d seen it a lot, even in large doses, and how it made him look even softer, even more adorable, made you almost spill words from between your lips. However like this, you could barely handle it. 
“Sorry,” you said, willing your voice to remain stable unlike your heartbeat.
“No, don’t be sorry! We’ll get...” It felt like he didn’t want to end his sentence but forced himself to. “So, they’re all in on this?”
His hands fell away from you, just as you looked away from him, unable to catch your breath otherwise. As it turned out it was a lucky move at the right moment. “Yeah, it seems so. N-now why? That’s the question. I don’t know, but what I do know is—”
Having pulled away, you’d begun to walk back to the door, thinking up the words to perhaps call out and talk them into freeing the two of you. Though as you did, your peripheral caught the odd transformation your closet door had done.
After performing a ridiculously overplayed doubletake that would have appeared to any onlookers out of context as fake, you noticed that there was a nearly full-sized image of a deep chestnut archway with the poor illusion (due to the angle) of a small opening inside. Drawing nearer you were able to make out a speckled grate suspended in the right wall of the wooden box.
What the image printed over three sheets of paper was sprung to your head immediately, much alike the jigsaw pieces jumbled in your head slotted together. 
It was a confession chamber. 
You had to confess, but not to a priest.  To Wonpil.
“God works in mysterious ways...” you remembered from the previous day, uttering the words as you replayed them in your mind. “Jae, you shit.”
Wonpil came to your side, peering round to take in your features, searching for an explanation in the sheer beauty he always found there. “What’s wrong?”
“I know how to open the door!” you announced proudly, the sense of victory washing away as you came face to face with what you had to do however. 
Wonpil’s characteristic sunny smile rose to his cheeks, all while you sat there barely able to stomach your anxiety. “Yay! What do we have to do?”
You didn’t know how to go about it. You didn’t know whether to tell him, to ramble, to keep it simple, or to just kiss him like you wanted to for however long it had been. “Confess,” was all that tumbled from your mouth, and you immediately regretted speaking at all.
The subject of your affections stood as silently as you did before him. You could see the rush of thoughts in his head, his cheeks flushing as he finally spoke up, “Confess our... sins?”
“Not sins, no...”
It was at that moment you realised your feelings were mutual. He wouldn’t look you in the eye like he always did, he was skipping over the obvious conclusion,and he wasn’t drastically denying a single thing. He didn’t run, nor hide, in fact he leant towards you. It was only a fraction of an angle, but with a small bite of his lip the air fled your lungs.
“Do you...” you breathed, taking a tiniest step towards him—you’d been so close already, but now he was practically against you, just not quite—as your fingers twitched at your sides, “do you want me to do it?”
His nod was strong compared to his voice which was so delicate, as if he couldn’t believe what was unfurling before him. “Please!” 
With his encouragement you let those ready fingers ease up to the edge of his jaw, gracing the fine stubble there as you sank you palms against his cheeks and held your dreams in your hands. “Wonpil, I’ve liked you for so long... I fell for you, more than anyone I’ve ever met before. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Don’t say sorry, I didn’t tell you either,” he reminded with a chuckle, his dark eyes bright and shining and wide at you coming ever closer, “and not being near you makes my heart ache so please, just kiss me and make it stop forever.”
You didn’t have to be asked twice.
His hands barely had enough time to snake around your neck as you bridged the gap and let your lips meet at last. And it was like the whole world sighed in relief. 
His lips were so warm, the softness etched with all his thoughts and his moments of anxiety and sadness. You wanted to kiss them all away, so that the only ones remained were the ones out of happiness, out of his smiles and playfulness. 
It had been so long since you’d began dreaming of this moment, and now it was at last happening you never wanted it to end. But it had to end, and though you felt more than ready to deepen it, there was a click from the door behind you. 
Springing away from each other in surprise, you immediately both looked over to the origin of the sound, your hands meeting in place of your lips.
“It worked?” Wonpil asked the air more so than you, his free fingers extending to the handle tentatively. 
You drew to him, letting go of his hand to place your own on his shoulders a you peered over them. “I think it did!”
Taking a quick glance at you, he twisted the brass and pulled gently, his jaw dropping as a gap formed.
You were free. Though a small part of you was disappointed, probably completely interested in staying in close proximity to your crush without disturbances for as long as possible.
Except he was no longer your crush! Your heart lurched as the awareness dawned on you. Completely disregarding the situation, you mumbled so only he could hear, “Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?”
Wonpil turned his attention back to you, giggling as he stroked your hair. “Of course dummy. Did I not convince you?” He squished your cheek. “We can do it again if it’ll help!”
You had to laugh, wanting to roll with his suggestion entirely, though seeing a shadow approach through the gap in the doorway you had to turn the offer down for now. “Real soon I promise!” After noting his pout that very nearly overwrote your decision in one fell swoop, you continued, “Not when the person who organised this is right outside.”
Your boyfriend threw his head over his shoulder to see a head duck out of sight. You watched as his eyes swept the room before falling intently on the bed—more specifically, the pillows. “Do you want revenge?”
Catching onto his idea and grinning at how childish and petty it would be—in context that the plan had actually worked—you didn’t hesitate, wanting to get a piece of that ‘divine intervention’ that had thrown your morning into disarray when he could have at least warned you.  Besides, it wasn’t like you could turn down a man so precious twice. It would be akin to heresy.
Grabbing both pillows you handed one to Wonpil and came to a halt by the ajar door. “Remember, play dirty when it comes to Jae. He deserves it.”
Sporting his characteristic sunny smile, your boyfriend let out what you had to discern was a cackle as he slipped through the door and led the charge. “You don’t have to tell me.”
A thwack resounded through the dorms from just outside your door and you had to stifle a laugh at the scream that followed.
Perhaps Wonpil didn’t need your help as you had admittedly first expected. 
But where was the fun in that.  
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“I’m telling you we could’ve put the movie on the side of her wardrobe!” 
“And I’m telling you it wouldn’t have fit!”
“...You’re never lifting me again.”
You gathered your breath after your surprise revenge assault, sending Dowoon and Sungjin an incredulous look as you passed. Clearly not all your deductions had been correct. Oh well, things had still played out correctly, and catching sight of Younghyun bringing your boyfriend into a side hug as he gushed about how you managed to save them both—clearly playing up the drama but hey, who were you to stop him, you had no qualms with being a knight in shining armour—made a proud blush rise to your cheeks.
Coming further into the living room, you intercepted Jae who had returned from your room after clearing everything up all by himself as you’d ordered.
“I still have no idea why you made me do all that!” he protested as soon as he caught your eye. “This had nothing to do with me! It was, hundred percent, Dowoon. Just Dowoon. He got sick and tired of your pining and...”
You folded your arms, expression proving just how much you didn’t believe his bullshit. 
“You don’t believe me!” he exclaimed, hands flapping. “What have I done to deserve this! Am I not a good friend? Loyal? Like a brother—”
You sighed, shaking your head as you walked over to him, before slipping your arms quickly around his chest. He was startled by the sudden display of affection, but hugged you back nevertheless. “Of course I don’t,” you chuckled, “but we wouldn’t be friends if I did.”
He scoffed at your words, but tightened his arms around you with a smile. He couldn’t have felt prouder in that moment, especially with Younghyun being dragged by Wonpil out of the room [to head out and fetch groceries?] who was delightedly babbling about how soft his best friend felt to cuddle with for real this time. Sungjin meanwhile rolled his eyes at the exchange, padding away and back to the kitchen. 
“Ok this means I can ask what made you work it out.”
You sputtered, though immediately gave in. “The confession chamber on the closet.”
“Ahh that was a good one,” he sighed happily, only to change tact soon after as the realisation sunk in, “wait that wasn’t even mine!” You laughed against him, you head tipping back as he searched the room for the true culprit. “Dowoon was that yours?”
You didn’t hear an answer, though hearing the curse that fell from Jae’s mouth offered enough indication to know that the response was in some shape or form affirmative. 
Laughter bubbling away into the air, you slowly pulled yourself away from the friend that had practically become an older brother to you. He let you go smoothly, but before you parted from him fully, you stood on your toes and whispered, “Thank you,” a smile on your face that was almost as bright as the ones Wonpil always received.
He sent you a grin, followed by a wink, as you followed after your new boyfriend. Leaning so he could see round the corner, he laughed quietly at how you subtly shoved the other man out of the way so you could take Wonpil’s side. 
His heart swelled as your hands naturally found each other’s, linking as if you’d been together for years. It came with a side of a dull ache, as that was what he wanted for himself too.
He wasn’t dismayed for long however. You now owed him after all, and you were well aware of it.
He couldn’t wait to see what you’d come up with. 
~~~
AN: no one can stop me from referencing my own work lmao
also a blackadder reference for anyone who knows!
also in germany there is actually an H note apparently so... fun fact.
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theartofdreaming1 · 5 years
Text
The Taste of Something Stolen, Part 1: Beginning
Pairing: Batcat
Rating: T
Summary: Some people steal kisses. Selina Kyle is a thief by profession, she doesn’t have time for this touchy-feely stuff - if anything, she kisses in order to steal. However, whenever Bruce Wayne gets involved, her current theft usually ends up being a little bit of both.
A short series of loosely connected one-shots :)
It was Friday noon and seventeen-year-old Selina Kyle was observing the coming and goings of the Diamond District, Gotham’s financial district, her green eyes scanning the crowd for a target. So what if she was swiping some business shark’s wallets? They had their more than lucrative jobs to go to every day of their mundane lives - Selina, on the other hand, was going to be put out on the streets as soon as she was turning eighteen (not that the orphanage was a place she was gonna miss, but career opportunities were few and far between for an orphaned troublemaker from the East End - she was just making sure she had a financial cushion to fall back on when ‘Day X’ arrived.)
She had worked out a true and tested procedural method: with her backpack half open, she’d “accidentally” bump into her target (normally some boring middle-aged white man, as most of these suits were), the contents of her backpack would be sent flying across the ground, causing enough of a distraction for Selina to pick the (by now full on swearing) man’s pocket - by the time her target had finished cursing her out, Selina had safely stowed away Angry White Man’s money in her own pocket.
It wasn’t exactly the most fun method, but the satisfaction of a job well done as well as the fruits of her labor made it worth it.
This had been going on quite successfully for a couple of weeks now; so successful in fact, that Selina was getting a little bored if she was being honest with herself. Which is why Selina had decided to switch it up a little today.
Her newest mark was just now exiting Wayne Enterprises, wearing a simple, but very expensive-looking black coat and a brooding expression on his face. He appeared to be around Selina’s age and was already parading around the biggest companies in Gotham (the Rolex on his arm made it more than clear that he was not just some low-paid intern at WE) - the stark contrast between her own situation and Mr. Silver Spoon just affirmed Selina in her choice of a target: In a way, she was just leveling the playing field, if you really thought about it… She was simply… redistributing all that wealth a little among their age group...
As an added bonus, he was actually pretty handsome, something that would make the execution of her exit strategy, should she have to fall back on it, a little more bearable...
After making sure that everything was ready for her little maneuver, Selina shouldered her backpack determinedly and headed for the rich kid; apparently deep in thought, he didn’t seem aware of Selina gravitating closer and closer to him until - WHACK - they collided. Slightly stumbling backwards due to the force of their impact, Selina felt a strong, protective hand gripping her elbow - rich boy was actually making sure she wouldn’t fall (a nice, if superfluous gesture, Selina registered.) The stacks of loose papers and pens Selina had stuffed into her backpack practically exploded all over the ground. Rich boy took a closer look at her although not to see who he was going to yell at, as Selina expected him to, but to determine if she was okay. She must have looked alright to him, as he quickly withdrew his hand from her elbow, shot her a apologetic look and then went on to kneel down to gather her belongings...
Selina quickly dropped to her knees as well, grabbing for the useless notes and pencils scattered everywhere, making sure to keep up appearances.
Rich boy handed her a stack of papers, an apologetic look on his face.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going - did you just steal my wallet right now?”
The befuddled look on his face would have been amusing to Selina if this didn’t mean that she had been caught red-handed.
Before she could make a run for it, rich boy’s hand wrapped itself around her wrist - his grip this time a lot firmer than before.
“Give it back,” rich boy said - no, ordered; it wasn’t that Selina was surprised to find out that rich boy knew how to boss people around, but the authoritative tone in his voice, coupled with that steely look in his gray-blue eyes… it was a little unsettling.
But not enough to have Selina lose her composure; with a nonchalant shrug, she handed over rich boy’s wallet - it was then that she noticed the letters B and W that were engraved in the fine leather and something heavy settled in her chest.
And yet, that still didn’t keep her from getting her claws out instead of keeping her mouth shut:
“It’s not like you can’t afford it.”
Rich boy countered her provocative glare with an intensity she hadn’t been prepared for - it started off as a stern warning, but then turned into something more calculating, scrutinizing; she could feel his blue eyes scan every inch of her, taking note of her threadbare jacket and scuffed shoes.
As suddenly as it had come about, their staring contest ended.
“You’re right,” rich boy agreed calmly, opening his wallet to take out the bills inside - from what Selina could see, she would have assumed them to amount to about $500.
“I’d rather keep my wallet though - it’s a birthday gift,” rich boy told Selina sedately before holding the cash out, for her to take.
Selina just gave him a bewildered look. He was certainly the weirdest person she’d ever met. And his offer may be tempting, but she still had her pride:
“I don’t accept handouts,” she said simply, crossing her arms demonstratively.
Now it was rich boy’s turn to be perplexed.
“You would have just snagged it if I hadn’t noticed in time - but when I give it to you freely, you won’t take it?”
“I’m not just some charity case you can throw your money at, just so that you can feel like the great benefactor,” Selina replied disdainfully, “I’m not interested in money I haven’t earned.”
Rich boy seemed to consider her response earnestly. After a short moment of contemplation, he finally put his money back into his wallet and slipped it back into his coat pocket.
“Fair enough.”
Selina arched an eyebrow. She really couldn’t figure this guy out.
He gave her a shrug, “Well, don’t let me keep you from work.”
His sorry attempt at humor couldn’t conceal the disapproval embedded in his words.
Selina knew that there was no reason at all why she should care about some entitled rich kid’s opinion of her, but something about this guy just rubbed her the wrong way:
“Listen, Mr. High-And-Mighty: what I do is not so different from what all of these -” she gestured at the financial sharks roaming the plaza - “are doing here; at least I steal from the ones that can afford it.”
Rich boy put up his hands in a defensive gesture.
“I didn’t mean to be condescending and I’m not denying that you have a point about unethical business practices being a profound issue, especially in this city…”
He paused for a moment, then, an amused expression made its way unto his face:
“I guess I just don’t know what you say to a pickpocket when they decide to get back to “work”; - Break a leg?”
Selina raised an eyebrow again.
“Does this look like a theater performance to you?”
Rich boy only shrugged, a hint of a smile on his lips, before giving it another try: “Good luck?”
Now Selina was truly offended.
“I don’t need luck; I’m very good at what I do.”
He stared at her, quirking an eyebrow.
“You just got caught in the act,“ he pointed out incredulously.
Selina shrugged it off: “An outlier; doesn’t count.”
This time, a full-on smile played on his lips, “Oh, that’s how it is?”
Selina couldn’t help the pouty tone seep into her voice as she defended herself:
“People don’t just offer to help someone that ran into them! Your stupid niceness ruined my plan.”
“What was I supposed to be doing?” rich boy asked, his tone of voice indicating that he was both amused and curious.
Selina couldn’t believe that anyone could be that clueless, but she still decided to spell it out for him: “Yell at me that I should look where I’m going - add in a couple of insults and you are golden.”
“Even if I was the one who didn’t pay attention?”
Selina rolled her eyes.
“Of course.”
“Huh. I’ll keep that in mind for future reference, so as not to ruin your plan the next time around.”
Selina cocked her head to the side, the ghost of a grin on her face, “You really think I’m bold enough to attempt stealing from you again?”
Rich boy shrugged slightly, “You strike me as a very dauntless person,” he said quite matter-of-factly.
Selina smirked, taking a deliberate step forward, invading his personal space, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Rich boy appeared to be taken aback by her action, but he didn’t move away.
“It’s just an observation,” he said with a shrug, his voice wavering just the tiniest bit; but Selina knew that she was getting under his skin.
She tapped her chin in pretend thoughtfulness, her eyes glinting playfully.
“Hmh, there is an error in your reasoning, though.”
Rich boy knitted his brows, “What erro-”
But before he could finish his question, Selina cut him off by drawing him in for a kiss. She must have startled him for good, because it took rich boy a few seconds until hes started to respond to her lips.
Before he got too comfortable, Selina broke off the kiss, a wicked grin now adorning her face.
“You assumed I’d use the same trick twice.”
“Wha-”
His eyes flew to his coat pocket his hand fumbling for the fanciful engraved wallet. When rich boy finally managed to pry it out, a puzzled look appeared on his face.
“I still have my -”
When he looked up, Selina had already disappeared into the crowd.
“...wallet.”
His eyes scanned the plaza, searching for that mysterious, brazen girl who had just tried stealing from, and had ended up kissing him right here in public - but he couldn’t find her anywhere. With a curious feeling, he opened his wallet - to find that all the bills had been taken out.
Bruce couldn’t help the amused smile growing on his face, as he pocketed the wallet Alfred had given him for his eighteenth birthday.
“Hmh. Bold indeed.”
To be continued... here.
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skizmin · 6 years
Text
haunted house!au with lee minho
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prompt: minho falls in love with the actor that jump scared him inside the haunted house at a carnival
genre: fluff???? would it be anything else???? in my happy angst-makes-me-cry household???? pfft.
for: im sorry this one is lightly gender specific for females!! but the only female not made is about dressing as wendy for a costume party which some of my male readers might be uncomfortable with!! (i didnt even think abt it when writing it bc me and one of my guy friends have respectively gone as peter and wendy to costume parties)
warnings: gore mention stuff but its haunted house costumes, swearing ofc but nothing extreme (no slurs).
yo anyway so minhos one of my three ults wowzas Can He Not?
alright lets get to it
You Are Broke.
your major subject at uni really does cost a lot of money. money you have to provide. it sucks basically
whenever you think abt money you have to hold back tears bc You Have None.
:(((((
sorry anyway
one of your housemates is also broke and loves scouring the internet for quick and easy ways to get money, no matter how crazy they are
one night she comes back with an idea that peaks your interest, probably purely bc your card just got declined ordering a coffee at mcdonalds
“y/n you HAVE to do this one!!!!!”
you sigh like “if its selling my sub topic notes online again, im not doing it. i didnt even know someone could be so harsh about highlighter use???”
your housemate is all pfft im not putting you thru that again
“no!! basically, you get $80 to show up for 2 and 1/2 hours at the haunted house place at that carnival nearby!! dude we gotta, its just to scare the fuck outta people and we can like!! cover ourselves in blood!! n stuff!!”
at first your mind was like lmfao 2&1/2 hours at a haunted house?? no fuckin way
but then you remembered your job only paid you $14.78 an hour so you were doubling your pay in half the amount of time
“when?”
“20 minutes, get out a creepy white dress or something that looks creepy that you can get dirty.”
you fricken ran to your room
you ended up getting a cheap nightgown that you bought to dress up as wendy from peter pan to a costume party, it cost like $2 you really werent sad to see it go
“y/n!! hurry up!! they have makeup there!!”
you bolted out the front door in your nightgown, runners and a big coat with nothing but your wallet phone and keys in your pocket
you were really broke and desperate, youd already accepted it
when you got to the carnival you were in awe, it had been a fair few years since your last one and the colours and lights and pounding music and laughter just
wow, carnivals are so pretty
the guy running the haunted house came in and let you guys in so you didnt pay admission and quickly sat you down at some tables and told you you could do the makeup yourself or got someone else to
you, feeling daring and thinking fuck it, im gonna make the haunted house goers shit their pants, decided to do your own makeup
to pair with your blue nightgown you simply gave yourself extremely dark and sullen eyes with the power of purple eyeshadow, you paled out your lips and gave yourself a lil nosebleed, and on top of that you painted a random creepy looking symbol on your forehead in blood, blackening it our a little with an eyeliner pen to make it seem like it was cut open.
you were lowkey proud of your work
okay now it was show time, you were briefed on where in the house you could stay and you were told how to act and basic rules (no touching, get help if theyre freaking out too much, etc)
so now, you were in the dimly lit narrow hallways of this makeshift house when you heard the tell tale screams of your housemate meaning theres a group coming and theyd just attempted to jump scare them
you hid behind a black sheet, disguised as a wall, before your victims came up through your hallway
you heard some talk of “felix you know its fake, calm down.” before you saw some shadows pass by
the group was big, maybe 10 people? you werent sure, but you went forward with your plan anyway
just after theyd passed your hiding place, you stepped out from behind them and stood idly and innocently in the centre of the corridor before you put your head down and started whistling a nursery rhyme
you heard a few gasps and a few squeaks before you looked up with an unreadable expression
you saw them looking at you and some of the guys ushered some of the others away though one guy stood there looking at you strangely
you just tilted your head at him before taking your OPERATION: SCARE mission a step farther
bringing your hands up to your ears you let out a ear piercing scream and squeezed your eyes shut before running through the group and turning the corner at the end of the small corridor
you heard a soft what the fuck was that and a less soft language! before you turned and waited for them to turn the corner
as they were walking up the corridor however (theyd resolved to moving with just shuffles of their feet) you heard a new voice speak up. it was somewhat playful and honeydew like, especially with the phrase “not gonna lie, they were really fucking pretty.” which was followed by a chorus of “miNHO”’s and “thIs iS NoT The TiME bUddY” and “i think felix is crying”
you were taken aback
did he mean that? was that the one looking at you earlier? what the frick?
you were still blanking out, completely flabbergasted even when the group turned the corner
of course, you were unprepared, you planned to scream a loud “GET OUT!” to them but all that left your mouth was a squeak as you met eyes with the stranger again, red flushing up your neck
you ran away quickly, ducking into one of the rooms dressed up to look like a metal asylum holding centre
“hyung wtf theyre the scariest one yet”
“you guys go ahead, ill be there in a second”
“hyuNG YOURE GONNA GET KILLED DONT YOU WATCH HORROR MOVIES YOU NEVER SPLIT UP!”
“let go jisungie, hyunjins looking at you like you disgust him right now”
a chorus of laughs echoed through the hall
why was honeydew voice not going ahead?
your cheeks were still kinda red as you waited, listening for the male to go away
you slowly inched towards the doorway of the small room you were in, the flashing light behind you somewhat hindering your senses as you peeked through the shredded and knotted white sheet hanging from the top of the doorway but you couldnt see anyo-
“BOO!” “HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK” you scReAmed and jumped backwards, only to hear some cakcling from behind the sheet where the boy from earlier had appeared
“WHAT THE HECK KNUCKLES DUDE!”
“heck knuckles?”
“DONT JUDGE ME MY HEART IS BEATING A MILLION MILES PER HOUR RIGHT NOW”
“hmm? really?” you looked up to see the boy smirking playfully at you. 
he looks like a cat
“aH yeAh??? you just scared the crap out of me!!!1!1!!!” you huffed, amused by him behaviour. you heartbeat still hadnt calmed down
“oh? you sure it wasnt just from looking at me?” he leaned in slightly, making the question seem innocent
“mmhm, youre that ugly that i flew halfway across a room.” though the comment was monotonous and you had a bored look in your eyes, it was purely for bantering
“nice try pumpkin, nice try. anyway, when do you finish with the whole im an ugly ghost coming to kill you thing? youre terrible at it by the way.”
your breath hitched and a blush came up your neck
“o-okay listen here, uh, boy! 1, i am Not a Pumpkin. 2, i dont know you. 3, im fucking amazing at this ask your friends and 4, i dont know you” you awkwardly coughed at the end
he furrowed his eyebrows at you “its minho, and the whole point is i want to get to know you.” he beamed at you after this
you felt lightheaded honestly, it was all happening very quickly under weird circumstances
but still, you muttered back to him a soft “i get off at 10:30″
he smiled wider, triumphantly, “10:30?”
you nodded and he took a couple of steps back, out of the room
“see you then i guess!” at this, he winked, before he jogged off to find his friends
you fell back against a wal
lwhat the frick frack paddy whack just happened?
you sighed, hearing the screeching and slam of a metal door, knowing you had to get back to scaring others
like,,, @ 10:33
you had all your stuff and you were walking out from behind the haunted house set up, waiting for your housemate
you honestly didnt think youd see minho. no guy is that persistent, right?
wrong.
“h-hey!!! demon child person!!!” you looked up at this
who the fuck just called me demon child person 
you saw him and holy shit
the haunted house was dark with red lighting in some places and flashing blinding white lights in others, you saw minho and you saw what he looked like, but wow, he was so much clearer now
he was absolutely gorgeous
the carnival lights against his tan skin, his dark hair, his skinny black jeans and big parka coat? you were absolutely mesmerised
suddenly you realised you were staring and he was standing right in front of you
“o-oh, uh, hi?” you could already feel the red on your cheeks
“mm, hey, wanna hang out for a bit?” he smiled at you, you saw a tinge of red on his nose from the cold
“oh, actually i uh, i came with my housemate and-”
“anD THEY’D LOVE TO GO!!” 
suddenly your housemate was next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and telling you to get home safely and asking you to not be too loud before shes nudging you closer to the attractive minho boy and speed walking off
“i gotta say, i like your housemate” minho looked to you with a wide smile. “should we get you some food first?”
you offered him a meek smile and shyly nodded. which he laughed at
“alright then, lets go!” he gripped you lightly by the elbow and led you through the crowd, passing some speedy and tall and colourful rides. you decided to speak up.
“sooo... after you get food, whatd you wanna do?” minho made a contemplating sound before simply saying “i dont mind, i just want to get to know you.”
oh
“uh, okay then, well uh, what do you wanna know?” “to be honest, a name would be great.” minho laughed goodheartedly, you saw the apples of his cheeks rise up and his nose scrunching slightly
“oH! riGht! im uh, im y/n”
this time he turned to you “y/n?” you nodded. “thats a pretty name, it matches you.”
you turned away mumbling a thanks before you realised he’d called you pretty
“woAh wait whAt??? do you?? have no shame??”
this time he giggled
giggled
oh my god your heart practically stopped especially when he steered you to a table for the both of you to sit down
“y/n, i dont know if you noticed but i basically sorta asked you out like 2 hours ago while you were trying to scare me dressed as a demonic creepy child, a really fucking cute one at that, you need to teach me how to do that im in awe. but yeah and then now we’re here on a spontaneous first date which i have no clue what im doing for and i really dont know you at all apart from you act in a haunted house which is pretty interesting but you were just that pretty that i stayed behind in a haunted house to talk to you. now ask yourself again, does minho ever feel ashamed of his blatantly obvious attempts at flirting? the answer however is: when it comes to you? no, never.”
he was smiling proudly at his little monologue whilst you were catching flies in your open mouth
“you...are actually the cheesiest person ive ever fucking met.”
minho laughs once again.
“honestly, ill give you all the compliments in the world if it means youll give me your number or something, even the ones that arent true”
you leaned over the table and slapped his arm lightly, grumbling under your breath about fliritng getting you nowhere in life
he simply rested his elbow on the table and his cheek in his hand, gazing at you and asking you what food you wanted
you ended up being so strung in by his his gorgeous eyes and soft looking cheeks that he had to call your name 3 times and repeat the question
bonus:
after eating some gross junk food and watching the midnight fireworks, minho bought you both fairyfloss and insisted on walking you home saying “its what anyone in their right mind would do” 
you walked along, him explaining his fear of heights and you explaining your situation of brokeness where you take almost any opportunity available
along the way he slinked his fingers through yours and placed them in the pocket of his big parka coat, smiling at you as you ducked your head to look at the ground, where youd started kicking your feet out extra to distract yourself from the affectionate gesture and calm the burning of your cheeks
when you arrived at your house, you fought over who should eat the leftover fairy floss.
you viciously shoved it into his hand, 
“you paid for it and you walked me home even though its late and cold, you keep it.”
minho looked like he was going to fight back for a minute before his eyes lit up
“ill take it on one condition, i get to feed a piece to you.” he beamed at you and you looked at him confused and skeptic
“uhhh, okay i guess?”
he picked a piece off of the stick and held it in front of you, you opened your mouth for it and he placed it in
before it could melt and you could smile at him however, you felt his hand on your cheek and a hand on your lower back tugging you forward to rest his lips on yours, moving his lips against them a total of three times before pulling back
“i know i shouldve asked, but id buy you fairy floss every day if i got to do that once.”
you were a stuttering mess, your mind was fuzzy, you missed the feeling of him so close to you already
“uh-i, i um. wow uh yeah. uhhh, yeah no its fine i um,,,, i didnt mind it actually. wait no, i uh, i really liked it?”
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
minho is BEAMING OH MY GOD
biggest smile of the century goes to lee minho, born in 1998
youre so red it isnt funny and he just moves the hand that was on your cheek to loosely grab at your fingers
“mm, okay then y/n, maybe if you wash the fake blood off of your face and text me ill kiss you again, for as long as you want.”
if your face was red before
oh god
oh god
you squeaked and nodded as he chuckled, lightly kissing your cheek before backing away
“get some sleep y/n, and message me tomorrow.” with that, he was walking away, leaving you to enter your house and be greeted by a squealing housemate who had witnessed the whole thing
(you took minho up on that offer, and he did kiss you, and it was longer, and it was great until his friend chris walked into minhos living room and saw you both and started screaming about keeping it PG because there were (17 yr old) kids around.)
finish! hope you like it!!
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viralhottopics · 7 years
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Jobs for all? In the US that idea is about to be tested to destruction | John Harris
Donald Trump says hell bring back full employment. But maybe no politician has the power to deliver this
The story has rather got lost in the midst of Donald Trumps statements this week about his fabled wall, the merits of torture, and all the other stuff that has underlined the frightening nature of his arrival in power but on Monday, the new president hosted a remarkable meeting.
In the Roosevelt Room of the White House, Trump held talks with the leaders of US trade unions: among them, the presidents of the Laborers International Union of North America, the Smart (it stands for sheet metal, air, rail and transportation) Union, and the United Brotherhood of Carpenters. Despite US unions overwhelmingly backing Hillary Clinton the carpenters, for example, recently warned that Trumps legacy will ruin America all was apparently warmth and cordiality.
The respect that the president of the United States just showed us was nothing short of incredible, said Sean McGarvey, president of the umbrella organisation North Americas Building Trades Unions. He then praised Trumps plans for infrastructure, trade and energy policy, and looked ahead to the administration putting America back to work, with the middle class jobs our members and all Americans are demanding.
Welcome, once again, to the element of Trump-ism that liberal dismay drowns out, but which partly accounts for the fact that this most unqualified of presidents is in office and which, for all his dismal approval ratings, is surely playing pretty well in the post-industrial places whose support took him over the line in November.
Understand that, and you may realise why his loudly ridiculed inauguration speech may have sounded potent and promising to millions of Americans. Through the same prism, moreover, you might be able to discern something too often overlooked: that amid Trumps lies and bigotry, there may lurk a political project of spectacular daring. In the way it put Trump on political ground long assumed to belong to the Democrats, one US columnist said the summit with the unions represented a great act of political larceny. The same applies to his economic policy on the whole.
Put simply, Trump and his people want to eat the American lefts lunch. At the same time, they intend to shred the Republican partys ingrained belief in laissez-faire economics, reset rightwing politics somehow bagging 60% of the white vote, and 40% of the black and Hispanic vote whereupon a new dawn will break and well govern for 50 years. The quotes come from the interview Trumps infamous strategist Steve Bannon gave to the writer Michael Wolff, a few days after Trump waselected. Like [Andrew] Jacksons populism, were going to build an entirely new political movement, he said. Its everything related to jobs. The conservatives are going to go crazy With negative interest rates throughout the world, its the greatest opportunity to rebuild everything. Shipyards, ironworks, get them all jacked up It will be as exciting as the 1930s, greater than the Reagan revolution conservatives, plus populists, in an economic nationalist movement.
Trump puts this in his customary way, with a familiar sense that he hasnt fully thought things through: We are going to put a lot of people back to work. We are going to use common sense and we are going to do it the way it is supposed to be done.
Donald Trump outlines job plan in YouTube clip
On the face of it, half this project rests on visions of Americas threadbare infrastructure being rebuilt, and gleaming roads, bridges and airports standing as monuments to Trumps reign. The remainder seems to be all about bringing home manufacturing jobs said to have been shifted abroad, using a mixture of protectionism, the lifting of regulation, loud threats to errant corporations, and the engendering of a new patriotic spirit.
Whether the infrastructure plans will materialise is partly down to politics: essentially, whether Republicans in Congress will endorse a huge burst of the kind of economic interventionism they have been trained to hate for the best part of 40 years. It also rests on simple maths, and how on earth Trump and his people might square the kind of fiscal activism not seen since the 1930s with his plans to slash taxes.
Trump has vaguely talked about public-private partnerships and tax breaks for infrastructure companies; by way of calling his bluff, Democrats in the Senate have drawn up a $1 trillion infrastructure plan they say could largely be funded by the federal government. But there is undoubtedly something worth discussing here: Americas fabric is in a mess, you can just about imagine squads of newly hired workers restoring it, and the huge economic stimulus that would create.
But Trumps plans for a renaissance of manufacturing work are something else. Ford and General Motors, he said this week, were gonna build plants back in the United States and thereby bring jobs back to America, like I promised on the campaign trail. But how? It is one of the more overlooked facets of the modern American economy that many manufacturing businesses are already coming back to the US because automation means that labour costs are no longer a deal-breaker: a robot is even cheaper than a Chinese worker, so reshoring is a rational choice.
Manufacturing businesses depend less and less on workers. Among plenty of examples, one in particular highlights the contrast between Trumps plans and reality: in Buffalo, a traditional Democratic stronghold where voters in the suburbs backed Trump in large numbers, a General Motors factory runs night and day, making engines for such hugely popular cars as the Chevrolet Tahoe. This might suggest a portent of where Trump might take the US economy, were it not for the fact that the plant employs 400 fewer people than 10years ago.
In the words of a recent report in the Financial Times: In places like Buffalo there is evidence that US manufacturing has a bright future. It just does not look like a future that will include millions of jobs. This is a truth that eludes dozens of politicians (including Trumps new friend Theresa May, whose just-published industrial strategy is smattered with promises of good and secure jobs, but no credible idea of how they might be created). If Trumps plans for jobs somehow work, he will become even more formidable. If they dont, their failure will not just take down his political project, but arguably threaten a much bigger idea: that old-fashioned, secure jobs are still a viable economic option, and that politicians can deliver them.
If this is a delusion, it applies just as much to the Democrats as to the new Trumpite Republicans (witness the pledge in Clintons 2016 platform of a full-employment economy, where everyone has a job that pays enough to raise a family and live in dignity). Across the world, in fact, what remains of the left and centre-left remains stubbornly wedded to visions of crowded production lines and the glories of the archetypal worker.
A more future-fit politics, built around the declining importance of paid employment and the need to rebuild policy accordingly, has yet to take shape; for the moment, the left and the hard right are awkwardly united not just in their disdain for globalisation, butalso in their belief that politicians can get their countries back to an idyll of factories extending to the horizon and jobs for all.
Trump, of all people, may be about to test that idea to destruction. In other words, watch out lefties: this most reckless, nasty, dangerous man is playing not just with his chips, but yours too.
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