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cookinguptales · 4 months

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So I have a few NYRs, which I might get into later, but I wanna talk about two right now!

One is actually a recycled NYR. I didn't do a very good job last time lmao. I've talked about this before, but I grew up in an environment were donations of time and money were highly encouraged, but taking any credit for it was highly discouraged. There are a lot of reasons for that, some of them complicated, but I'll leave it at that. As a result, I have made regular donations to various charities, but have always done so anonymously.

That said, I was donating to one a couple years ago (an... abortion fund, maybe?) and when I marked the box to give anonymously, a little pop-up came up that basically said, y'know, maybe reconsider? I know a lot of people think it's more virtuous not to take "credit" for charitable giving, but studies actually show that visible giving encourages others to follow suit. It spreads awareness of specific causes, reminds others to give, and -- well, I guess the psychological effect is to have people be like "wow, that person is a good person for giving. I also wish to be good, so I will also give."

Visible giving is contagious, is what I'm getting at.

And so I was sitting there thinking, like... Okay, so what is actually more important to me? Being "humble" and giving on the DL, or actually getting charities more donations? Being frank with you, it's the latter. So I've been trying to be more open about my giving habits.

That said, I've gotta admit that this has been a remarkably difficult habit for me to break. It's so, so hard for me to be like "HEY GUYS, GUESS WHAT I DID TODAY?" It makes me feel like an asshole who wants to look benevolent on the backs of the needy, and I hate it!

But... that's why I made it a NYR to be much more transparent about my giving habits. I'm not going to tell everyone specific dollar amounts or anything, but I do want to be clear about what I'm doing when I'm doing it. Maybe I'll be lucky and it'll encourage others to give as well.

So I'm going to try harder to do that this coming year, but I'm also going to be working in another NYR.

I know this was a silly jokey tumblr poll, but I actually love a lot of the options. I might end up doing a few. But the one I wanna talk about here is making a donation to a charity that one of your favorite characters would give to. I love that idea. It's so fun and also forces you to consider good causes you might not otherwise think about. So I really want to do that in 2024.

So... here's how I usually donate. I have a few charities that I give a small amount to every month. A lot of charities really like this because then they have regular money coming in that they can rely on. I also usually give to another cause at least once during that month. Sometimes it can be related to something going on that month (like queer causes in June) and sometimes it can be something related to a current crisis (like disaster relief) and sometimes it's just random.

This year I'm going to be adding the character charity! So that means each month I'll have my regular donations, my one-time donation, and a character donation. At the beginning of each month, I'll plug my three regular donations (might add one or two more depending on finances) and whatever I've decided the character donation to be. At some point during the month, I'll also talk about whatever that one-time donation is. I tend to decide at the end of the month, unless some crisis has happened in the meantime. That allows me to leave money in case of... well, crises. lmao

I'll make a separate post on January 1st so it's not at the end of a wall of text, but my three regular donations are to Philabundance (an organization that feeds the hungry here in Philadelphia), Immigration Equality (an organization that helps LGBTQ and/or HIV+ people immigrate and apply for asylum), and my local community fridge. (Not linking to this because it would out my neighborhood, but I'm sure you have one near you that you can donate to.)

For my first character, I chose my very beloved Guillermo de la Cruz, everyone's favorite vampire-loving vampire slayer from What We Do In The Shadows. There were a lot of directions to go with this (I seriously considered a blood drive, lmao) but I think in the end I'm going to go with the Boys and Girls Clubs of America for my January donation.

In s4 of WWDITS, we found out that Guillermo had been raised by a single mom who had to work a lot throughout his childhood, making him feel really lonely and forcing him to grow up far too fast. (And arguably making him more than a little weird and codependent.) He was really focused on making sure that Baby Colin never had to raise himself the way he had, and he wanted to make sure that Colin had good support, a safe and loving home, and proper socialization with other kids his own age.

So I think choosing an organization designed to support kids coming from home lives that are less than ideal would be something he'd like. They create safe spaces for kids to learn, grow, and socialize, and they provide mentorship opportunities to kids who need adult support that they're not getting at home.

(I'm actually making a donation to them now as they're having a donation doubling drive through the end of the year, but I think December 27th is close enough to January. lmao. Let's not get bogged down in semantics.)

I'll post about this again on the 1st because I want to get into that habit, but... yeah! If anyone else wants to do this with me, just lmk. I'd love to hear about the character causes you're supporting, too. If you decide to donate to any of the causes I link throughout the year, I also want to hear about that! I'd love to know that my posts are helping people.

#and I'll tag them... hmm...#just 'charitable giving' ig #charitable giving

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i-want-candy · 2 years

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Space Camp [Part Five: Who Has a Secret Identity Anyway?] ! [Canvan]

In which Candace’s secret identity gets revealed...[takes place: August 1st, 2022]

@vanecessary-conditions

[tw -- bullying, panic attack]

CANDACE: Once a week, all the interns from the various subprograms gathered in the auditorium (because yeah, fancy NASA science centers had auditoriums) to listen to employees from different branches of NASA talk about their journeys to success. It was fun and interesting. Candace liked it because sometimes, the people had really untraditional trajectories and it always made her feel a little better. Like the archivist that they had today talked about how she’d been a librarian before applying for the job at NASA, not even knowing they had archival positions. Candace hadn’t known that either and while she really would prefer to work in the astronomy department, it was nice to know there might be other options.

She was feeling bouncy and chipper as she made her way to the cafeteria with the rest of the hoard of interns. Her eyes scanned over the tops of everyone’s head, looking for Vanessa, but she couldn’t find her. Instead, she thought she felt someone looking at her. She turned to look over her shoulders and one of the girls from her program--Brittney--dropped her gaze and the person she was with glanced away suddenly.

Candace felt her face heat and she moved forwards quickly. Getting her lunch and looking again for Vanessa. She found her seated with all her engineering friends. People that Candace still didn’t know how to fit in with, but--it was better than eating alone. Even though she still sat a few seats away from Vanessa and it felt like she was alone anyway.

“Hey, Candy right?”

Candace glanced up at the girl with green hair who appeared in front of her. She wasn’t someone Candace recognized. “Uh--yeah?”

“Ohmygod. Could I, like, get your autograph?”

“What?” Candace blinked owlishly. This was not at all how she had envisioned someone asking for her autograph for the first time. Mostly because she had no idea why it was happening.

“You run CaNDyPoP101, don’t you? I love your songs! The one about the shark was on my Spotify wrapped last year.”

Candace felt as if the entire room had suddenly shrunk down. Her breath caught in her chest. All of Pacifica’s techniques for calming down felt very far away.

“I--” she didn’t know what to say. Deny it! her brain screamed at her, but she’d forgotten how to talk.

VANESSA: Vanessa heard the whispers before she knew what was going on. It was hard not to. Everyone in the cafeteria seemed to be whispering about the same thing and even though Vanessa was trying to have a conversation with Blake and Jess about their respective cartoon sexual awakenings, all she could hear was people whispering about some YouTuber.

Did you know she’s actually CaNDyPoP101?!

I can’t believe we’ve been working with a celebrity!

Oh my gosh, do you think I could get her to collab on something with me?

Pfft, no wonder she got into the program even though she can’t even adjust a telescope.

Vanessa rolled her eyes and said something snarky to Blake. In the corner of her gaze, she saw Candace, just a couple of tables away. She thought about getting up and saying hi. They’d come to the auditorium separately, because they were in different programs, and because of that, they left separately. And if this had been a few weeks ago, Vanessa would’ve flagged her over after the talk. But she wasn’t sure what was going on.

They’d more or less silently made up after whatever weird fight, even though neither of them had actually acknowledged it. Vanessa showed up one afternoon with Candace’s Taco Bell order and the two of them silently watched an episode of Ru Paul’s Drag Race. But that didn’t mean they hung out when they weren’t in their apartment. Vanessa had her friends and Candace… well, Vanessa wasn’t sure what she was up to, but she was sure Candace had friends. Candace was the type of person to always have friends. People flocked to her, because she was just so smiley and bright and —

And yeah, of course someone was talking to her now. Why wouldn’t they be?

“I’m going to ask Candace if she wants to sit with us,” Vanessa said to her friends abruptly. She stood up and walked over to where Candace was sitting and it was only then that she noticed something seemed… off about Candace. Her face was pale and the reagents around her felt like tight, sharp spikes.

“Uh, did I interrupt something?” Vanessa asked, completely aware that she was interrupting something.

CANDACE: Candace was still panicking internally, the dominoes falling into place. Someone knew she was CaNDyPoP101. Everyone knew she was CaNDyPoP101. When she had first written the songs and started CaNDyPoP101, she had kept her identity secret because stranger danger on the internet and she didn’t want things to blow up just because she was Lindana’s daughter. She wanted to go viral because people liked her songs.

It had taken a year for that to happen. She had been 17, just about to turn 18 and the song was about plankton of all things. 3 million views later, and catching a friend downloading the song into their iPhone and Candace was glad she’d kept her identity a secret from everyone but Stacy, her best friend in Danville. The last thing she had wanted was to be labeled as a nerd.

And now, she didn’t want anyone to know because they would think she was a fake. Not serious enough. CaNDyPoP101 were pop songs about science anyway. No real scientist would take it seriously.

“What?” Candace blinked owlishly, jerking in Vanessa’s direction. Her nails were digging into her skin. “Uh—“

“No, but if you want an autograph you have to wait, I asked first,” the green haired person said.

“That’s my—roommate,” Candace blurted, her face bright red.

“What’s going on?” Brittney popped up with a pleasant smile on her perfectly pink lips.

“I was asking Candy for her autograph,” the green-haired person said.

“Oh. Why? I mean, the songs are pretty good I guess but, like, they’re super basic. They don’t have any real science,” Brittney said. “Which, I totally get why you do it that way, Candace.”

Candace said nothing.

VANESSA: It took Vanessa a second to figure out what the hell was going on.

And then it all clicked.

Candace was CaNDyPoP101?! Like, that internet person who kept popping up everywhere? Who Vanessa couldn’t escape and at first she’d found the songs kinda annoying, but then they became a guilty pleasure, and okay, maybe she had the Solar System one memorized now?

“They’re catchy songs, Brittany,” snapped Vanessa. She didn’t know why but she suddenly felt defensive of Candace. Maybe it was because Candace looked like she was shrinking in her seat, like the flurry of anxious reagents around her was swallowing her whole. It almost reminded her of when she’d found Candace in the bathroom —

Okay, not quite that bad. Not bad enough that Candace was gonna kiss her, at least.

Still, though —

“I’d like to see you do better. Especially since your singing voice sounds like a cat in heat. Your rendition of “Oops! I Did It Again” at intern karaoke keeps me up at night.”

Brittney blinked.

“I was just saying the songs aren’t that deep, that’s all. That’s probably smarter, though. Makes them really popular with people who want to seem smarter.”

CANDACE: Candance couldn’t believe this was happening. She had been so careful. Not even her brothers or parents knew that she was CaNDyPoP101. It had just been something silly she’d started just for fun and it had snowballed into something so big. She didn’t want people to know because she liked the anonymity. People got weird about pseudofamous people. Take her mom for example.

“Yeah!” the green-haired girl said, glancing at Brittney and then crossing her arms at Vanessa. “There isn’t anything wrong with basic. That’s why they’re so catchy.”

“Hey, Candy, isn’t your mom, like, famous? Did she show the songs to producers she knows?”

Candace’s face went bright red. Brittney would only know that if she had Googled her family. Or stalked Candace’s Instagram. It wasn’t that Candace hid that her mom was late 80s pop sensation Lindana, but--she didn’t really talk about it either. For the same reason that she didn’t tell people that she was CaNDyPoP101. Because people would think she hadn’t done it on her own. Because she probably hadn’t…

Candace was so deep in her whirlpool in her anxiety, she hardly even noticed Vanessa was, like, hardcore defending her. She just kind of nodded at Brittney.

“Gosh, that is so cool. No wonder you got into the program. Have you written a song about NASA? You totally should. I am sure they’d love to put it on the social media accounts.”

VANESSA: Something felt off about this whole exchange.

Namely, Candace’s friends or whatever were being really fucking rude. Oh, no, not like blatantly rude. They were doing the thing that Vanessa hated, which was making rude things sound like nice things, when really they were just being absolutely bitchy. Vanessa preferred people being rude to her face and if they had mean things to say, they should just say them without making themselves feel better.

“Are you trying to say that Candace only got into the program because of these songs?” asked Vanessa outright, because she could not deal with these stupid little passive aggressive digs any more.

Brittany or Brittney or whatever her name was blinked.

“What? I never said that — are you saying that?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” snapped Vanessa. “You know what you’re saying.”

“I mean, I’m just saying that it makes sense that someone mega popular would get into the program —”

“If that was the case, wouldn’t our bosses be making a big deal about it? Like, making us take more pics and putting Candace in them? Literally, why would they hide this? They’d be putting her on the front page of the website and making her do a collab for the telescope!”

CANDACE: Brittany was totally implying that she only got into the program because of her stupid singing blog. Which Candace already knew. She had a feeling ever since she’d gotten the acceptance. Nothing else made sense. What? Candace got accepted because she had taken a few voluntary science classes? Fat chance.

She felt ready to cry, her throat was totally closing up and it was hard to breathe. The plastic fork that she’d been holding started to cut into her skin, though the pain kept her sort of grounded, so she didn’t just start fucking sobbing in the middle of the cafeteria. There were already enough people looking at them and whispering.

Her brain was fuzzy white noise. The only thing that cut through was Vanessa’s voice, sharp as a knife. Candace blinked and her head turned towards the other girl.

“Well, they don’t want to make it seem like they’re playing favorites, but we’ve definitely included her in the social media internship,” Brittney scoffed.

Candace reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding the plastic fork and grabbed Vanessa’s wrist. “Can we just--go?” she rasped, her lip wobbling.

“Ohmigod, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” said the green-haired girl.

Brittney just rolled her eyes. “She’s just trying to get attention. You know she went to school for acting, right?”

VANESSA: Without even realizing what she was doing, Vanessa looped an arm around Candace’s shoulder, dragging her close. Candace was still sitting, so that meant that her head kinda hit against Vanessa’s hip. It was a bit awkward, but Vanessa wanted to hold Candace, put herself between Candace and these bitches.

Part of her wanted to yell — to make fun of Brittney’s stupid glittery phone case or the BTS pin on her bag. Part of her wanted to make some dig about Brittney’s own major, but to be honest, Vanessa didn’t know much about Brittney or what she was studying in school. But the biggest part of her —

Well, she just wanted to get Candace out of there.

“If she wanted to get attention,” Vanessa snapped, “then she would’ve told us all the first day.” She tilted her head at Brittney and narrowed her eyes. “Wow,” she drew out the word long, smacking her lips together. “You’re really not very smart, are you?”

She helped Candace up and with an arm around her waist, Vanessa pulled her away from the ogling crowd.

CANDACE: Vanessa pulled her up.

Candace was glad. Her legs were asleep. She stumbled as she got her legs untangled from the cafeteria bench. Reaching over, she grabbed her bag but abandoned her food. Her breath was ragged. She was pretty sure that Vanessa could hear her, which was embarrassing, but she couldn’t think about that. She needed to think about something else.

The walk from the cafeteria into the hallway felt incredibly long. She needed to do something before she collapsed.

Look for five things. Everyone staring at her. Vanessa’s shoe had an aglet missing. The black of her pants didn’t match the black of her shirt. The fact with every step she took, Candace could see a sliver of her pale ankle. Her black nail polish was chipped, Candace could see it from where Vanessa still had her arm around her waist.

She could feel Vanessa’s arm around her; her and was kind of sweaty. She could feel Vanessa’s hair tickling her cheek. Feel her breath on her ear. Feel her body jostling against the other girl’s. Feel her breath on her ear.

She could hear Vanessa’s breath. She could hear people murmuring as they passed by. The sound of forks scraping at plates.

She could smell the cafeteria food--pizza. She could smell Vanessa. She smelled like her horrible cheap perfume she used to spray everywhere. She smelled like sweat and her vanilla shampoo. And a bit sharp like oil which must’ve gotten on her clothes at some point.

They stepped into the hallway.

Candace’s heart rate had calmed down a bit and she didn’t think she was gonna spiral into a full on panic (or, at least, that she had drawn herself back from one), but when she blinked she was crying. She pulled away from Vanessa and stepped across the hall.

“Sorry,” she sniffled. “No one was supposed to--” Her lip wobbled. She felt pathetic. “No one was supposed to find out.��

VANESSA: “I don’t know why they’re being so weird about it,” said Vanessa, because, well, that was exactly how she felt. She leaned on the wall, arms crossed over her chest, slumped down a little bit. “So you’re secretly responsible for some really catchy songs? So what?

It did put a lot in perspective for Vanessa, though. Like, how Candace had actually been interested in science and space and stuff before this internship and just hadn’t told anyone before. That made more sense than her waking up one day and suddenly deciding that theater wasn’t her thing anymore.

She looked at Candace now, quietly flicking her eyes across the hallway. The frantic storm of reagents around Candace was still there, though now that they had left the cafeteria, it had thinned out some.

“Look, if you’re worried about what Brittney said, don’t be,” said Vanessa. “You have better grades than me! So, maybe they did take a chance on you — but great scientists can come from anywhere, you know? Like, Hedy Lemar! She was an actress and an inventor. So, really Brittney’s being, like, super anti-feminist if she’s dismissing you for doing theater.”

Vanessa was rambling. Rambling to fill the silence, because Candace was sniffling and Vanessa didn’t want her to sniffle.

She reached a foot to nudge Candace on the shin.

“My three words of wisdom: fuck the haters.”

CANDACE: That was Vanessa for you.

Fuck the haters.

She had always been like that and it had always annoyed Candace. She had, also, always sort of admired it. Half her irritation came from…jealousy? Something like that. Candace wished it was that easy for her. That she could just say fuck the haters and do whatever she wanted, not caring what others thought of her. But Candace couldn’t do that, because she grew up with a mom who was obsessed with the five seconds of fame she’d gotten over twenty years ago. And a brother who made it his mission to upstager her at every turn. Candace had always been criticized for seeking attention. Which was what it felt like to her. Doing things against the grain. It was attention grabbing. Attention seeking.

Still, the advice made a watery smile come to her lips.

Everyone is crazy.

“Yeah, easy for you to say,” Candace finally said with a little scoff, but there wasn’t any heat behind the words. There was another moment of silence. “Er, thanks for, uh--sticking up for me.” She reached up to rub at the tear tracks on her face, trying not to smear her makeup as she did so. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m, uh, gonna go clean up in the bathroom but…” she took a shaky breath and glanced up at Vanessa from beneath her lashes. She crossed her arm over her chest, grasping at her elbow.

“Do you think it’s okay if I eat my lunch with you?”

VANESSA: “Oh yeah!” It came out a little too enthusiastically. Vanessa tore her gaze away from Candace and shrugged. “I mean, if you don’t mind an animated discussion about which cartoon characters were our sexual awakenings.”

She got the feeling that Candace didn’t really like her friends, which was, like, valid. They were very different from Candace’s friends back in Swynlake, who were all, like, very normal (and also … incredibly straight? What was up with that? Well, Vanessa got some #bisexual vibes from Rose, but maybe that was wishful thinking on her part).

“I mean, hopefully they paused the conversation for me.” She snorted a little and then leaned onto the wall, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her baggy pants, before adding, “And, uh, no problem. You don’t have to make a big deal about it or anything.”

Her cheeks burned a little and she looked at the floor, kicking an imaginary something on the ground.

“I’ll, uh, wait for you out here,” she said. “Don’t take too long. I’m hungry.”

#swynvanessa #canvan #space camp arc #nasa arc #who has a secret identity anyway?

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scythepalace · 6 months

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Sometimes it’s best to just shut up and open my ears. These last couple months have been a rollercoaster , I’ve found myself the happiest and most accepted , but also the lowest and most confused. I feel like I need to do what I did 2 years ago and just not talk for 3 days straight . Just write and think, reflect , dig deep, understand what I want out of life in this next year. Sometimes I just want to be free . Free from everything , and just focus on my passion. I’ve found myself relying on vices to cope which I’ve been doing since I was 14 buying clothes every chance I got and fucking FORTNITE SKINS to get some feeling of satisfaction. But now that I’m older, and make my own money those vices have changed . Drugs , sex, still clothes. It makes me look at adulthood so differently. It helped me understand my mom and her mental state a lot more. When you’re trying to survive there is no growth. When all you can think about his how you’re going to eat, where you’re going to lay your head out, how you’re going to make it to the next day without hurting yourself or ending your life due to the pressure from the people around you and yourself, there is no mental space to reflect and grow. You’re just stuck in this constant limbo of working through the days. Then boom, you dig yourself out that hole and all of sudden your mind is overwhelmed with all the emotions you were supposed to feel while you were dealing with your ordeals. I try my hardest to stay strong, but fuck is it hard. I need a getaway or something. I want to be isolated, no phone, no friends, just me, a notebook, and music. I try to be patient with myself, and tell myself what I tell everyone else “good things take time.” “Give yourself grace for the small steps you take daily” Which sounds great, but hard to apply depending on the issue. The more I think about it the more I realize how naive I was when I was in high school. I think I was still pretty wise for my age due to the things I’ve dealt with at such a young age, but I did not have the answers. Or maybe I did at the time. I mean when I think about it the things I stressed about or the things that were a problem back then aren’t that significant to me now. Which is why I think I need to shut the fuck up again. Take in this new set of issues and genuinely sort it out. Some days I find myself looking at the sky, smoking a cigarette, asking god or whatever is out there for answers, guidance, signs that show I am moving forward in life and not at a standstill. But maybe me still being alive is a sign. I’m still here, I’m pretty healthy, I can make it to work, bills are paid, maybe that is a sign of moving forward. I try not to wrap my head around it TOO much cause I’d prolly get a headache. I’m just hoping I don’t spiral out of control. I’m trying not to. I try to keep my soul intact, but as life deteriorates my self image it gets harder by the second. Thankfully I’m still pretty at least??????? What the fuck am I even saying lol

Monday, November 13th 2023

#blogger #life blogging #reflection #self reflection

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y0ud0ntkn0wwh0 · 8 months

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Alright, I might be half a year late to the party, but I gotta do it. Here’s my (completely unqualified) review of

The Dungeons and Dragons Movie: Honor Among Thieves

(About 6 months after I first watched it.)

4/10.

Alright, let me explain.

The movie itself wasn’t too bad. But, if you’re going to label yourself as a “D&D” movie, I expect there to be a bit more meta in it. Like, more spells straight from the book, effects as written, and generally just sticking to the OG content. A couple of examples

• The Key Item that the BBEG goes after has, as far as I know, never been in a single (official) D&D book. Neither have most of the other magic items. There’s one magic(?) Item that I identified on my first watch through, and (I’m pretty sure) it wasn’t even a D&D item. It was the Darksteel Axe, from MTG. I mean, sure, it’s technically “WOTC” material, but if I’m right, it means that there’s more MTG items than there are D&D items in the movie.

• The Druid. Everyone who’s seen the movie knows what I’m talking about, specifically the scene where she transforms like 10 times. Fine, rule of cool. I can get behind that, if it applied to ANY OTHER CHARACTER as well. Seems like the DM gave her special treatment.

• The Druid II: Electric Boogaloo. The final fight scene is gereally really tense and well thought out, until the very last shot, where it’s all pushed aside for a joke. A joke that’s almost ripped straight from Marvel. There’s a scene where Loki stands in front of the Hulk and says something along the lines of “I’m a god, you can’t defeat me.” To which the Hulk responds by grabbing him and swinging him around like a bag of sand. It’s blunt, straight forward, and pretty in character. The druid? It’s pretty out of left field. The BBEG is dazed after getting hit by a rock, and the Druid’s been pretty calm and non-aggressive unless she needs to be, up until this point. She goes absolutely ham on a, frankly, weak lady who got absolutely obliterated 10 seconds ago. She’s only strong with her magic and that’s gone. I felt kinda bad for her.

• I wish there was more obvious signs of characters playing by the rules of their class, race, spells, whatever. Like, the Sorcerer. I’ll give them points for having a low CHA Sorcerer, and the palpable repercussions of that, but I guess he’s suppose to be wild magic, when that only comes up once or twice? And the Bard! Sure he used Bardic inspiration, but other than that, nothing. And the Barbarian? Fighter? I don’t know. She fought a lot and was really good, but she didn’t rage, so probably not a Barbarian. However, I’m not sure she used any fighter abilities. Also, dice rolls. Like, I thought maybe there’d be a slow shot of them doing something awesome if they rolled a Nat 20, or of them screwing up if they rolled a Nat 1. Nope, none of those.

• The humor. Three “jokes” stuck out at me. One, the “fat dragon” joke. It was funny for the first half of the joke, then I kinda felt bad for the poor guy. Two, the bridge. This poor guy goes on and on about the great creation of this bridge, and genuinely got invested. Until I realized, “they’re gonna break the bridge, aren’t they?” And YEP. Completely shattered. Genuinely disappointed, which was then compiled with the instant solution of the Staff of Hither-Thither. Loved the item, hated the execution of introduction. Three, the poor paladin that doesn’t get sarcasm and social cues. This absolutely could be the tiny Social Justice Warrior in the back of my head, and I might be well in the wrong, but isn’t that just kinda… autism? Like, super direct, knew a ton about the bridge, doesn’t understand social cues, lives by a general set of rules. Again, could be 100 wrong, but those were the vibes I got.

• The actual plot resolution itself. They didn’t deal with the threat of the item or the lady (at least, not onscreen), they didn’t deal with the hoarde of undead (I don’t think), and the whole arc of “should I revive my wife? Or should I just let what was, be, because after everything that’s happened it wouldn’t be the same?” It was a really nice and genuinely touching arc that they just COMPLETELY OBLITERATED when they had the Barbarian die.

Just real quick, before I finish, I’m going to compare to other pretty successful media.

• Right after this I saw The Super Mario Movie, another film that loosely adapted their main story to a film that was trying again after a massive flop many years ago. The Mario Movie pulled this off really well, I thought. It was funny, and explained some of the lore in the games, albeit retroactively.

• Legend of Vox Machina: A D&D Campaign adaptation series, that I enjoy quite a bit. I find myself pointing at the screen and saying “Oh, that’s totally an action surge” or “Failed CON save right there.” Beside that, there was some good humor (both child friendly and not).

• The 201X Jumanji Movie. It has the same basic premise as DND:HAT : a party of people who each have their own role to play all have to get to some objective through an RPG style campaign. Again, alright humor, maybe not the best movie, but it’s one I want to watch again.

anyway, I’m writing this at 1:00 local time, so me tired. But yeah, these are my thoughts. Just had to get them off my chest.

(also, please tell me if I got something wrong. I’d rather feel stupid for two minutes than look stupid for until college.)

#dungeons and dragons #honor among thieves #hot take?#movie review

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ignitification · 3 years

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Dissecting What-thefuck-Ever is Happening in Jujutsu Kaisen

Am I crazy? Am I going mad? Is this manga making me delusional? All of this are valid hypothesis. However, onto the content, because I'm confused and trying to give shape to whatever my mind is thinking.

The last couple of chapters really put my English comprehension skills to test: not because I don't get it, but all the different details and the shades which Gege uses to describe and entwine things is so subtle that sometimes I am afraid that the translation does not give it justice. And kudos anyways to those who put this into words, because this is one big mess on 'insert weird jujutsu thing'.

This New Arc (The Culling) is probably one of the most difficult, in terms of events and storyline, arcs in the story. Fair enough, Shibuya was pretty complicated, as events were happening at the same time - but in the end, Shibuya lasted about five hours and that was it. The Culling has origins which go back in centuries, and only that makes it interesting, dangerous and maddening to think about.

One thing which I want to mention before anything else, because I know that I will forget otherwise, is the sentence which Tengen repeats twice in Chapter 145.

Per his saying, he cannot read the Human Heart, once in reference to Yuki, and the other in reference to Kenjaku. The weird thing is that this makes it clear that despite everything and the implications, Kenjaku - is still human at the end. He is physical, material and therefore he is not invincible. I am not sure if this was the intent behind this words (to let them know how Kenjaku is as human as them, and therefore it it possible to stop him) - but I still it has some sort of relevance. Also, this makes me question, whether Kenjaku's technique is limited to the brain and its knowledge, and what generally his technique is.

Tengen tells the Six Adventurers that Kenjaku is at least as old as Sukuna, and the two have been involved somehow. His objective is so force human evolution. And in order to do, he wants to boost up Japanese individuals (likely because of the amount of immense cursed energy present) - and to merge Tengen, who is now more cursed spirit than human, with humankind.

This is because the next stage of sorcery (and humanity, intrinsically), for Kenjaku, lies in optimising cursed energy. But in order to do so, the potential which human retain needs to be exploited fully. Therefore, people have to be aware that there is still potential to be discovered (next stage of human evolution).

The objective of the Culling Game therefore splits into two currents: cull the potential vessels to fuse with Tengen and spread cursed energy like wildfire (with the end goal being a new golden era, Heian Era) by applying the natural law of the survival of the fittest (searching for the one who could completely fuse with Tengen) and making Japan the cull of all cursed energy - which would potentially attract other cursed energy, from other countries (even if as we know it is extremely lower compared to Japan) and as Yuki potentially already guessed in Chapter 136 to make Japan a monopoly on cursed energy.

Another things which gets mentioned, but at the same time I am not entirely sure has anything to do with the things I am thinking of (and specifically Sukuna's fingers and the remains of the clan ancestors - if this is even a thing), however boundaries and restrictions (f.e. Heavenly Restriction that both Toji and Maki have) are a very big thing in Jujutsu Society and Sorcery. A blatant example is the pact that Sukuna made with Yuuji (and that neither can break). However, according to Tengen the bond of fate between The Six Eyes, Tengen and the Star Plasma Vessel has been broken thanks to Toji Fushiguro, who killed Riko Amanai 12 years ago. (Also, the choice of words that Toji escaped cursed energy is very interesting, and worthy of further looking into). This allowed for Kenjaku to carry out his plan to weaken and further let Tengen evolve into an almost cursed spirit, which he could manipulate through Getou's technique (which explains why he seized his body) to finally let the ritual of breaking into the body and finally merging begin (the culling game). To allow this however, Kenjaku had to make different restrictions, one of which is not not be the Game Master of the Culling. But in this case, two questions come up: who is the Game Master and what are the other restrictions? Can this be used as an advantage by Yuuta, Yuuji, Megumi and Maki to beat Kenjaku, free Gojo and stop the Evolution?

And this also prompts the question of, if Kenjaku would merge with Tengen in Getou's body, what would the consequence be? Also, does this merging occur after the end of the Culling? What if Kenjaku finds another body to take advantage of and this way, the vows he made when it Getou's body are not worth anymore? Would that play in his favour? Could it even be possible?

However, in order to do so, and since Tengen's barrier optimises cursed energy, and at the same time protects itself, Kenjaku is striving to eliminate Tengen's barrier. In the end, if the cursed energy is dispersed, yes it would mean chaos, but as well it would mean endless possibilities to evolve. Furthermore, if Is stretch this into unknown territory, what the picture could be is: since for Kenjaku the only ones able to successfully merge with Tengen and have a use out of it are Japanese people (for reasons stated before), and from the things we know of Kenjaku (old as they come, acquainted with Sukuna and Uraume, mad scientist who tampered with the Womb Paintings - creating Choso among the others, and most likely having tampered with the Itadoris') it would create the picture of a mad scientist in full gear striving for innovation, evolution, creating by destruction.

It gets cleared with the content on these next two panels:

Kenjaku wants a chaotic world, one that even he cannot control, in which Cursed Energy is a limitless source and has no possibility to be put down. The question that comes naturally with it is definitely why, because I am afraid that merely 'evolution' is a downplay of the real intentions of someone who experimented so much and has survived different centuries, under different names - all of which (known for now) are of 'evil' jujutsu sorcerers (both Kamo Noritoshi and Getou Suguru), who did not conform with the will of jujutsu society.

Does Kenjaku want the whole to end, to go berserk - because if there are no barriers and one individual goes mad, everyone does? The creation of 'Trascendent Being' which are more than jujutsu sorcerers? To see what's over the threshold of jujutsu sorcery? To have the world as the scene for a new Shibuya but with the possibility to influence and kill more people? Territorial expansion extendable over a certain barrier?

Anyway, I am not sure what the point is, just that Gege's plot is absolutely amazing and I can't wait to know more.

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slafkovskys · 3 years

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Angst 7 with jack hughes, possibly some brother angst

7. “do you think about them when you look at me?”

you’d known jack for a while, so it was easy for you to tell when things were off. to say that it was the first day that he was acting cold towards you, would be a lie. in fact, it had been going on for the better part of the summer ever since he had come home from new jersey. instead of grabbing onto your hand when you had held it out, he had brushed past you easily and started walking alongside jim, leaving you to walk with quinn. you cross your arms over your chest and quinn nudges your side with his elbow, “look at us, the alumni are back.”

you swallow the lump in your throat, tearing your gaze away from the back of jack’s head to glance at his older brother, “i think to be alumni, you have to graduate, and that only applies to one of us.”

“oh, that’s how it’s gonna be,” he laughs, throwing his arm over your shoulder and you giggle as you shove him away. the noise draws jack’s attention and he turns his head, face falling as he spots the two of you. he sends the both of you a glare before turning his head around. quinn makes a noise, “what was that for?”

“he’s been acting like that ever since we got to your parent’s house. has he-,” you lower your voice because you now knew that he was listening to you, “has he said anything to you? like, at any point this summer?”

“this has been going on all summer?”

you shrug your shoulders, “only when we-”

“‘when we’ what, y/n?” he raises his eyebrows as he shoves his hands in his pockets. you were getting closer to your cars now and you were about to be separated from quinn, but it all started to make sense. he chuckles, “so you’re just gonna leave me hanging?”

“it’s when we’re around you, quinn. he only acts like this – gets cold and acts like someone pissed in his cereal – when you’re there,” you look at quinn and he freezes. you can see jack’s car when the lights flash as he unlocks and you stop alongside quinn, “is he- did you- you said that he was okay with it. he told me that he was okay with it.”

that was the thing with you and jack, jack wasn’t the first hughes that you had been involved with. you were a couple of years older than your boyfriend, meaning you and quinn were the same age. you had met quinn in high school during his time with the ntdp. it wasn’t until college where you started messing around with each other. it fizzled out after a couple of months, but you and quinn decided to stay friends.

you had met jack through quinn, obviously, and from the moment that you met him his crush on you was obvious. he was quinn’s little brother though, and that was a boundary that you didn’t want to cross.

well, until jack invited you to the draft. he was thrilled when you pulled on his jersey for a picture (just as you had done for quinn the year before) and to this day his lock screen was a picture of you, new jersey devils hat perched atop your head and a big smile on your face. it wasn’t until just before new years during his first season that you finally agreed to go out with him and here you were, almost two years later, about to move out to new jersey with him for the season.

with the way that he had been acting, however, you were starting to second guess your decision.

“he knows the truth. i told him a million times that it doesn’t bother me and that the feelings i had for you are gone. we’re friends, y/n,” he insists and you nod. you hear someone clear their throat and you both look at jack, who’s suddenly a few feet from you.

“are you going back with quinn and my dad?” jack’s question is directed towards you, but he’s staring holes through his brother.

“if that’s gonna be how you speak to her, yeah she is,” quinn steps up and your hand wraps around his elbow, a move that jack takes notice of. “y/n-”

“it’s fine, q, see you at skeeps, yeah?”

quinn pulls you close, which really doesn’t help the situation, and his mouth hovers over your ear, “if he says anything to you or if you need me, text me. my dad and i will set him straight.”

he presses his lips to the side of your head, shoves his brother as he passes him, and gets into the passenger seat of their dad’s car. you and jack stare at each other for a moment before he holds out his hand. you give him the same treatment that he had given you, pushing past him to get into the car.

you stare out of the window as he gets in the driver’s seat, starting the car and pulling out of his spot. he gets behind his dad and with the post-game traffic, you knew it was likely you would be here for a while. “what is wrong with you jack?”

he scoffs, “there’s nothing wrong-”

“please don’t lie to me. i’m about to pick up and move my whole life to jersey for you in two weeks and if that’s-” your voice cracks as tears threaten to spill out of your eyes, “if that’s gonna be a mistake, i want to know now.”

“why would it be a mistake?”

“because of you, jack,” you lean your head back against the headrest and look at him. his hand rests on the steering wheel and his jaw is tight, “you’re not the same guy that you were a few months ago. you’re so, so cold towards me. like, we sleep in the same bed every night, but i have never felt further away from you.”

his breath hitches.

“can you please just tell me what’s going on? because if it’s about me and quinn-”

“do you think about him when you look at me?” his words make you tense up. he doesn’t look at you as he inches forward out of the parking lot, flicking on his blinker to go in the direction of his parents’ house. “when you look at me do you wish that i was quinn?”

“jack,” your voice shakes, “whatever happened between me and quinn is over. it’s in the past. you said that when we got together you were fine that we had history, but that you didn’t care.”

“he looks at you, y/n. he looks at you the way that i look at you. anyone can see that he still has feelings for you. the way that you acted around him at the game earlier-”

“how did i act, jack? because my boyfriend was ignoring me and i didn’t want to mope around the whole night? is that why you’re upset?”

“i’m upset because i’ll never be quinn,” his words form a pit in your stomach, but his next sentence makes your whole world crumble, “is that why you’re with me? because you couldn’t have quinn, you settled for his little brother.”

“jack, oh my god, i didn’t settle,” you reach out to grab onto his arm, but once again, he pulls it away, “me and quinn, we weren’t anything serious, ever. we’re better off as friends and that was a mutual decision. to this day, we still feel that way.

“i was with him tonight because you were acting like you wanted nothing to do with me and it was obvious. everyone fucking noticed, jack. do you know how embarrassing it was to get looks of pity because i was being shooed away by my boyfriend?”

“you were embarrassed?” he spits, “my girlfriend was all over my brother. even niko noticed.”

“you’re not even listening to me!” you let out an exasperated sigh and the two of you fall into silence. it stays like that for a minute before you break it, “take me home.”

“that’s where we’re going,” he scoffs.

“no, i don’t want to go to your parents’ house. i want to go to my house, alone.”

his eyes flick to you and he shakes his head before changing lanes, “whatever.”

ten of the most painstakingly quiet minutes of your life pass before he pulls into the guest spot of your apartment. your hand wraps around the door handle and you pause, turning to look at him for the final time, “i love you jack, so much, but if this is going to keep coming back up and being an issue, i think that it’s best that we don’t see each other anymore.”

“so, what does that mean?” he keeps his eyes glued to the building in front of him, hand covering his mouth, “we aren’t together anymore?”

“i think we both have some things that we need to figure out before we have that conversation,” you slide out of the car and plant your feet on the ground, closing the door.

you make it up onto the sidewalk before he calls out your name softly. you turn to look at him and you can see his watery eyes, “i love you.”

“let me know when you get home, please. you know that i worry,” you send him a nod before turning and making your way up the stairs to your apartment. he waits until you get inside before pulling away from your complex. you watch his tail lights as they disappear into the night and you wonder,

what did i just do?

#jack hughes #prompts

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blackenedwhite97 · 3 years

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Coming Out [Poly! Erasermic x {Fem}Reader]

Hello! this was a requested fic from like before Christmas. I'M A MESS I KNOW I'M SORRY! I’ll be catching up at some point, I'm in my final sem at uni and have MAJOR senioritis. Me no do unless me have to. Instead, now I just spend my time staring at the existential abyss the threatens to swallow my ceiling and think about everything I'm procrastinating. But I digress...

Content Warning: This story is of a negative experience coming out as poly to your family, this deals with rejection from the reader's mother, father, and a grandparent. This story demonstrates Homophobia, xenophobia, traditionalist and conservative values and attitudes and may be triggering to some folks.

This story includes a Polyamorous relationship

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Word Count: 3.7 K (A baby story)

Y/N --- 4:06pm

Hey can my roomates come to dinner?

DAD --- 4:06

You mean the gays?

Y/M --- 4:08

Please don’t call them that. Neither of them are gay anyways, there’s more than just gay or straight.

DAD --- 4:10

Yeah whatever. Let your mom decide.

MOM --- 5:12

Sure, they can come.

Mom --- 5:23

Gma might be coming dinner tho. Maybe talk to them?

That conversation should have been enough of a warning for how the evening was going to transpire. At news of your grandmother attending dinner, you panicked and tried to back out of your plans. You had been growing steadily farther apart from your parents anyways, barely seeing them more that once a year if that. It’s not like they didn’t have their suspicions anyways, to them you were a single woman living in the big city sharing an apartment with two gay men. Not that they’d ever been to the apartment. If they had they might have notice that one of the two “bedrooms” was being used as an office. Earlier on in the relationship you were so deeply uncomfortable being around your parents alone, that you had Shouta come with you every visit because you were so paranoid you were just going to come out on the spot.

At first your parents were sure that you and Shouta were together. He had subconsciously cleaned up quite nice the first few times he met your parents anyways, wanting to make a good impression on them if you finally did tell them about your polyamorous relationship. Then as time went on you got busier and started to see them less. Shouta’s parents lived in the suburbs and you saw them on holidays, plus Shouta had come out to them as being bisexual a long time ago and hadn’t felt much pressure to hide the polyamorous nature of your relationship to begin with. Hizashi’s mom was still a city dweller in her 60’s and on top of doing the cute mom things like baking fantastic cookies and handing down family jewelry to the daughter in law, she’d also taken Hizashi and Shouta to their first pride in Tokyo and had an in-home recording studio where she recorded for local punk bands. She was, quite literally, a cool mom.

You gnawed vigorously at your thumbnail, not quiet biting the whole way through, instead riddling it with dents and cracks. Chewing your nails wasn’t a habit you’d always had, it became a sort of silent worry thing you started to do when you got to your agency and had to remain still and quiet during briefings, no matter how terrible the news was. Your ruined nail beds were an atrocity to Hizashi, who had paid several times for you to get a manicure to get your nails short and evenly trimmed so you could manage them on your own. You still somehow found a way to gnaw on the short squared off nubs of your nails though, and it drove him nuts. Shouta cared less, his hands were in ridiculous shape, he was callused and bruised, cracked and flaking all over the place and Hizashi would regularly force moisturizer on them. Shouta cared more about figure out the root stress, it’s not that Hizashi didn’t, he just didn’t know how to, so he settled for pampering you.

“It’s dead.” Hizashi huffed from the bedroom door. “Obliterated, actually.”

“Hmm?” You looked up from your phone, you hadn’t been reading any of the messages in the chat for a good few minutes and just let your eyes unfocus instead. You yanked your thumb from your mouth and hid it below the table like a child caught with a sweet they’d snuck from the kitchen before dinner, you knew he saw.

“Your nail.” Hizashi gently patted the end of his hair with his special fluffy towel that he’d convinced you and Shouta he needed to control his frizz (which he didn’t have) and padded towards the kitchen table where you sat. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he strode around you.

“What’s up, love?” he murmured softly, leaning against the table next you. One of his legs propped up on the chair to your right and leaned down to look at your phone screen.

“This is going to go horribly.” You breathed, panicked as you set your phone down on the table.

“You don’t know that.” Hizashi looked back up at you and smiled sweetly.

“Not everyone’s mom is a cool rocker lady in her 60’s who lives in the heart of downtown still and is fully supportive of her child’s bisexual polyamorous relationship with their childhood best friend and an ex-small-town girl with an ultra-conservative family.” You huffed out in one long breath.

“That was oddly specific.” He chuckled softly. “What about Sho’s parents, they’re conservative?”

“Yeah, but his parents are at least polite and send us both Christmas gifts every year and keep any and all of their shittier opinions to themselves because they want their son to be happy.” You groaned dramatically, dropping your head onto his thigh, using the extra meat to muffle the noise.

“Y-your-” Hizashi’s leg twitched from the vibrations of your groan. “Your parents want you to be happy too, Y/n.”

You groaned into his thigh, trying to explain the difference between your parent’s and Shouta’s. Hizashi laughed and gently grabbed the side of your face, lifting it so you were no longer muffled by his leg.

“Try again.” He instructed.

“They only want me to be happy if it fits into their rigid frame of what acceptable happiness looks like.” You explained again.

“Hey,” Hizashi ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek, “have faith, baby. They’re your family, they love you.”

If only he’d been right.

Shouta was the know it all, the one that way always right. Hizashi on the other hand was quiet used to being the one that was not always right, he had no hubris about his intelligence what-so-ever. So much so that sometimes you and Shouta had to remind him that he was intelligent and offered a lot of knowledge and wisdom in many many ways: public speaking, social relationships, radio scripting, he spoke two languages fluently as well. However, this one-time Hizashi wished dearly that he had been right, that he was an insufferable know it all who never got it wrong. It was a different twisted feeling in his gut, sitting the back seat watching you try to keep it together in the front seat, than the usual mild embarrassment that faded after a couple of minutes when he was wrong about something. That was damn near luxurious compared to the painful knot tearing into his stomach.

The silence in the car was so dense and absolute that it almost physically gagged Hizashi and Shouta, the two of them were too afraid to say anything and break it. It felt as though the heavy silence was keeping you from breaking, as if it were applying enough pressure at all sides to keep the thin veneer of composure you were managing together. You felt it too, along with the heavy weight that was nearly crushing your chest, the thick doughy lump clogging your throat and the tremble in your lips. You took a deep breath, it getting caught halfway and freezing in to an unrealized sob that you pushed down.

Shouta huffed and pulled off to the side of the dark country road, slowing into the gravelly shoulder. He turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seat belt so he could fully turn his body. You kept your eyes out the window, trying with all your might not to let the tears that clouded your eyes to fall. You knew you’d need to cry about this, about your parents and their conditional love. You knew that this was something you would need to deal with, but you didn’t want to at this moment. You wanted to go home, take some sleeping medication and go to sleep, you wanted to wait until the open wound in your chest had stopped bleeding to begin treating it.

Your father was being facetious about your living arrangement as usual, whenever he was faced with Shouta and Hizashi his first reaction was to constantly point out that fact that you were a woman living with two men and that if they weren’t gay that one of them should have married you by now. Shouta and Hizashi had taken these comments like water rolling off of a duck’s back, Hizashi even grinned and mumbled something about your father tempting him. You could have kept your mouth shut, you could have kept your cool but Shouta’s hand was brushing against your thigh and you felt it tense into an annoyed fist. Something about Shouta’s minimal reaction lit a fire in you, more like an explosion. It was a surge of very sudden and very ferocious courage that lasted a split second and no longer. You’d practically shouted it, the ringing in your ears drowning whatever words you’d used out.

You were met with complete and utter silence, shock and fear thick in the air. You’d almost believed for a moment that you hadn’t done it, that you’d just shouted randomly and just scared everyone. But then your dad stood up, his shocked open mouth flattening out into a hard straight line, this jaw swelling as he clenched it.

“W-what?” he growled, stepping back from the table as if you were a threat.

You were ready to backtrack, you were so ready to just laugh and pretend you were fucking with him. But you spared a glance to Shouta and Hizashi, their faces pale and guilty. They, regardless of what you could say in an attempt to cover up what you’d just said, were basically admitting to it already. You instinctively shrunk back into your chair like you’d do when you were younger at the dinner table whenever something uncomfortable would come up. You could tell everyone was at a loss for words, the difference was that you were scared and at a loss for words, Shouta and Hizashi were shocked and at a loss for words and your father was steaming angry and at a loss for words.

Your mother, who had always been the least confrontational of the two turned away from you and almost in a show of disgust immediately went to comfort your grandmother. It was as if you were an afront to goodness, an act of moral atrocity being committed in front of them. Your father began to barrage you with passive aggressive questions and accusations towards Shouta and Hizashi. He was trying to understand while at the same time refusing to give you a chance to explain. You stopped listening after the first few sentences that came out of his mouth, falling back into an internal monologue filled with regret. He must have said something exceptionally terrible because in an instant Shouta was standing, his arm reaching out to separate you from him and he was shouting. Shouta never shouted, he barely voiced any form of annoyance or frustration in general when it wasn’t a learning moment for his students, but here he was on his feet volleying harsh word with your father.

Hizashi, you realized was attempting damage control, his hands raised and his voice lower than either of the other two men’s. You blinked back into the present, as noise filled your ears, you mother was crying, your father and Shouta were shouting and Hizashi was rambling panicked. You took a couple of deep breaths and stood up on shaky legs, gripping Shouta’s protective arm for support, and looked your father in the eyes. He faltered at the direct eye contact and you saw an opening where there was less shouting to contend with.

“Stop,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “this is why I never wanted to tell you! Why I was perfectly okay with living away from you guys for the rest- This is why I haven’t been home.”

Your mother gasped a ragged, tear-filled breath. She’d expressed before that she’d wished she could see you more often, that she’s noticed you’d been coming home less and less. You’d been good at covering it up, saying you were busy with work and simply couldn’t get the time off. You knew that what you’d just said hurt her, not in the way it should have. It hurt her because you’d just told them it was their fault that you felt unwelcomed here and not because you were afraid of your own parents.

“How long?” she breathed.

“Three years.” You sniffed, hand tightening around Shouta’s wrist.

“THREE?! THR-” your father bellowed in disbelief. “For three years they’ve been brainwashing and forcing themselves on you?!”

Suddenly you understood why Shouta had leapt up, you had just now caught up with the conversation. Red hot anger flared up in your chest, the mere insinuation that you were being forced in anyway to be with your partners filled you with utter rage.

“No!” You growled, for the first time in your life matching your father’s volume. “For three years they’ve been by my side, showing up at the hospital when I got hurt at work, celebrating my promotions at the agency, helping me make a home that I feel safe in and actually fucking caring about me!”

There was silence again, this one was thin but not light in anyway, like it was a delicate thread barely holding a great weight from falling and crushing you.

“We care for you.” You mother said darkly.

“No,” you swallowed hard, “you haven’t for a long time.”

“Get out.” You father growled.

Hizashi was already moving, grabbing your coats from the back of the chairs and pulling Shouta by the arm away from the table. It took you a good long second to move, even then it was because Shouta latched onto your shoulders and Hizashi tugged him along.

“I’m sorry.” Shouta whispered, his hand finding yours in your lap. You kept your eyes focused out the window at the pitch-black fields with barely visible for off golden dots of light. You couldn’t talk.

You heard Hizashi shuffling around in the back seat, scooting closer to you and his hand joined Shouta’s, pulling up onto the storage compartment between the seats. It was cracking, that veneer.

“It’s not your fault.” Hizashi murmured.

You sniffed hard, biting int you bottom lip. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that your parents didn’t accept you, that you weren’t good enough or right for them, that you weren’t on par with the apparent morality of the rest of the family. It wasn’t your fault that they were backwards people with terrible ideas of how a person should be. It still didn’t hurt any less that you couldn’t meet those backwards ideals, that you couldn’t be the right kind of person for them.

“Y/n,” Shouta whispered, gently grabbing your chin and turning your face towards them.

They were looking at you the way a mother looks at her crying baby in the first few months, the desperate need to connect and nurture glowing in their eyes. They were filled with worry, with pity, with understanding but also, with fear. No doubt, what had just happened had been traumatic for them too. Looking into their emotion filled eyes you felt that veneer shatter, falling away and unleashing that mournful sobbing that had been trapped inside.

Shouta pulled you towards him, holding you firmly to his chest placing his head atop yours. You vaguely felt Hizashi disappear from you for a moment, but you were too preoccupied with the trembling muscles seizing violently in your chest. Then you felt him sliding in behind you, only now realizing he’d stepped out of the car and slide in through your door as he shut it behind him. He draped himself over you rubbing circles into your back.

“It’s not your fault.” He murmured into your hair over and over again.

At first you didn’t really focus on it, thinking it idle words of comfort but the more he said the more it sunk in. The more your realized that you were holding onto the hope that there was something about this, about you, that you could fix. With every repetition of those four words that false hope chipped away and that heavy weight in your chest began to fall away. It was still painful, it still felt like you had a pen festering wound that you’d never fully heal from, but it also felt lighter. It felt as though a burden you’d believed was yours to bear was suddenly the responsibility of the many.

“You don’t have to change,” Shouta whispered softly as your sobs ebbed into weak beaths, “they do.”

That reignited some tears, to hear what you needed to said so plainly. Shouta was good at that, putting those intangible thoughts and feelings into plain words. You cried until the tears and the worry and the late hour caught up with you, until your head felt heavy and waterlogged and you slumped backwards into Hizashi sniffing. You cried until your wavering breaths evened out and your tired mind fell to silence. Hizashi pulled you into his lap and cradled you against him like a parent holding and oversized child, running his hand slowly through your hair.

When you awoke you were swaddled thoroughly with the fuzzy blanket from the couch Shouta hated because it shed and sandwiched between the two men who snored away. As you blinked in the early morning light that just barely peaked through the blinds you noticed the red rims around Hizashi’s eyes and deep-set circles under Shouta’s as if they both been awake all night. Shouta was still in his dress shirt and Hizashi had stripped down to his boxers and pulled his hair back into a sloppy bun. Neither were properly snoring which told they hadn’t been asleep for very long.

You tried to ignore what had happened last night, what had led to the heavy feeling in your head and crusty dry eyes and tight cheeks. You tried to pretend that they had stayed up for work, that they you had swaddled yourself up in the blanket nor because you were sad but because you just wanted to be cozy. Then you heard a phone vibrate on the nightstand and any and all work towards denial washed away as you dreaded checking it. It could just be a work thing, it could be Hizashi’s phone even though he’d never had it on silent even once since you’ve known him. It could have been Shouta’s vibrating against the wooden table even though you could see his slightly peeking out of his back pocket.

You sighed and sat up, daring the smallest of glances at the nightstand. It was your phone screen that was lit up, several notifications on the screen. You groaned and laid back down, scrunching your eyes shut begging for sleep to suddenly and miraculously take you. It buzzed again and you huffed. Fine. You’ll check it. I guess someone could be dying. I do stop that from happening for a living.

You very cautiously crawled over Hizashi and reached to get your phone, electing not to look at it until you settled back between your boys. You scrolled though your notifications, weather, news, a work email, a second email from a contact that made your blood run cold and three missed calls and two answering machine messages from the same contact. Grandma. Your hands trembled at you unlocked your phone and typed int your voicemail password. You held the phone up to you ear and listen to the first message which was more or less just some frustrated grandma noises and mumbles about the inconvenience of technology, followed briefly by a set of hellos. If you hadn’t been ready to shit yourself, you’d have laughed. Then the second played and you had to take a deep breath to hold yourself together enough to keep listening.

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Oh shi- well this is just ridiculous. Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me, or maybe this is your answering machine, I don’t know I can’t hear too well but-” her soft worn voice said into the phone, “I want you to know that I love you. Your parents love you too, even if they did not act like it tonight.”

She paused and your eyes welled up with tears, a lump forming in your throat. It was this strange feeling of pure sadness but also happiness and relief.

“Those boys,” she continued, “probably would have killed your father last night if they had the chance. I’m not saying I get it, but they sure do love you, sweetheart. I quite like the blond one he is very-”

The message cut off and the automated voice asked you what you wanted to do with the message. All you could do was laugh, laugh and cry. You were still sad, still in pain, but it was already starting to feel less life-ending.

“Hey,” Shouta mumbled blearily, “S’okay. I’m here.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, trying to pull himself from sleep. You hugged him back and massaged the back of his scalp gently.

“Listen to this.” You sniffed.

He nodded and you pressed repeat, listening to the whole second message through again. You watched as a smile spread across his sleepy lips and he laughed softly. He pouted suddenly when it ended, his eyebrows pulling together as much as his drowsy state would let them.

“What?” you asked, worried he’d heard something you‘d missed.

“Why does she like Zash more?” he grumbled, barely awake now.

You smiled and curled into him, electing not to answer knowing that he wouldn’t like being told that Hizashi is more sociable than him. Besides, you smiled to yourself, he’d be asleep in a matter of seconds.

You were still hurt; you still had that big open wound in your chest. But with Shouta and Hizashi at your side you knew you’d heal; you knew they’d give you anything you needed. You knew that your grandmother was right, that these two boys loved you very much.

#polyerasermic #eraserhead #erasermic #erasermic x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #present mic x aizawa #eraserhead x reader x present mic #eraserhead x reader #reader insert #bnha #mha #myhero #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bnha fanfiction #y/n x mha #y/n x bnha

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1kook · 3 years

Note

Podcaster Yoongi 👉👈

Yoongi’s set-up is very… unique to say the least.

You place his sandwich beside him, triangle cut because that’s the way he likes it best. It finds it’s home right next to his elbow, tediously balanced on an assortment of wires and cables that you couldn’t differentiate between to save your life. Across from your boyfriend is his friend, Namjoon, fellow podcaster and frequent visitor of your home. “Thank you,” Yoongi murmurs, purposefully covering the black head of his microphone with his palm as Namjoon begins his dramatic reading of today’s Dictionary.com Word of the Day.

You acknowledge him with a hum, careful to keep your voice low lest the sound is picked up by either of the two microphones. Last time you had spoken on the podcast, Yoongi’s audience of young adult men had flooded the comments asking to see a photo of his significant other, who, until that point, was a person everyone believed was made up. A chaste kiss against his temple marks the end of your silent visit, Namjoon waving at you from across the table.

The two have picked up speed these past few months, and by speed you mean someone had clipped a short section of their audio and uploaded it on Twitter, gaining a couple thousand likes that had made Yoongi the talk of your small town for a few days. It’s a hard business, podcasting that is, because just about everyone is doing it these days. And while Yoongi and Namjoon have a small step up on everyone else— they’re going on year four of hosting the Simple Scholar, a 45-minute, once-a-week show where they, in a sense, summarize worldwide happenings in a ‘chill’ manner, as Yoongi puts it, making political issues and social trends accessible to dudebros everywhere —they had been stuck in a rut for a while.

But that was before, and this is now. They have a steady stream of consistent listeners each week, which is good. Or at least, it is to you. Yoongi thinks otherwise. He thinks they should capitalize off this moment, utilize this chance to the highest degree, so he’s been pouring over ideas like crazy, trying to make a story out of something, anything. Tonight he’s stuck on the avocado phenomenon. “Would you say you consume avocados regularly?” Yoongi asks, notepad on his lap. You had been sitting at your vanity, carefully applying your skincare routine. “And if so, how many on average?”

You shrugged, fingers dancing along your cheeks. “Maybe a couple a week,” you respond, having long since grown familiar with Yoongi’s random questions that begin appearing at the end of every week. He liked to collect stories, he claims, from real people. To make his podcast more believable or whatever. “I like it on toast in the mornings.”

From behind you, there’s the sound of furious scribbling. “Uh huh,” he hums, taps his pencil against his notepad a few times. “Would you say you consume avocado-based products more than the average person?”

Avocado-based, what— “baby,” you begin, whirling around to face him head-on. Yoongi pauses. “If this is for your podcast, I’m going to be honest and say that many guys don’t wanna tune in for a podcast on avocado face masks.”

He frowns. “You don’t know that,” he huffs. Except you do. Two weeks ago, you had tried to rope Yoongi, a guy, into trying an avocado face mask with you and he had complained the whole way through. He must realize this at the same time you do, because suddenly his features droop. “Does it suck that bad?”

Getting up from your seat, you join him at the bed. “Honestly, yes,” you admit and he pinches your side. “Don’t force the stories,” you hum, brushing his hair away from his face. He’s so handsome like this. “Just do what you’ve always been doing.”

Yoongi smiles, leaning into your touch with a sigh. “You’re right.” And then, “maybe I should have Namjoon recap an episode of the Kardashians again next week.” It’s even worse than the avocado idea.

#Yoongi fic #min Yoongi fic #suga fic #bts Yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #mine #mygd

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

Bisous au Palais Garnier ~ MYG [M]

WORD COUNT: 4.5K

PAIRING: Mafia Leader! Yoongi x Assassin!Reader

GENRE: Mafia AU, smut, includes descriptions of violence, death, some french that probably isn’t 100% correct since I haven’t spoken or taken french in like nine years, oral (f receiving)

A/N: I hope you enjoy this!!

I just don't think I have the time this week babe. Yoongi's words echoed in your head as you stared at yourself in the mirror, your makeup was done to perfection to match your hair in the style you knew Yoongi loved on you. If this was going to be the only way you were going to get his attention then so be it. Dressed up to the nines in a silk-black backless ball gown, black strappy heels and a bright red lip so you could stand out just to Yoongi. The red lip was something he had picked for you months ago, telling you he couldn't wait to ruin it and rub it all over your face. The thought alone was enough to send shivers up and down your spine and have your core tingling as you rubbed your lips together making sure the lipstick was applied properly. It had to be perfect so that Yoongi knew what he had been missing out on.

"Are you ready yet? Some of us have been-" Taehyung, your best friend and Yoongi's right-hand man stood in the doorway shocked as he saw you. He'd seen you dressed up so many times but nothing compared to this, this was something you'd picked out and done all by yourself instead of having Yoongi's stylists working on you.

"Close your mouth Tae. You'll catch flies," You winked playfully as you got up from the dressing table and began to mentally prepare yourself for the evening. Tonight there was a charity auction at one of the most famous Opera houses in Paris, Yoongi had been invited because of his name in the Mafia business world and he of course took the chance to fly out right away. Having no idea that you would follow him with a plan to finally gain his attention after weeks of him being too busy to even acknowledge your presence in the same house as him. The two of you had been together for four years in secrecy from everyone but those who worked closely with him. It was mostly because of your past that he kept you hidden, a killer assassin that never missed a shot meant that you were the most wanted woman in Seoul and most other cities and countries where you'd preformed a hit.

"Yoongi will kill you for following him to Paris," Taehyung reminded you as you both headed out of your hotel room and down the large hallways of the grand hotel you were staying at. Just down the road from Yoongi's hotel since you didn't want to be too far away from him.

"Relax, he won't kill me. He loves me too much," You giggled as you stepped into the elevator, hitting the ground floor parking garage and staring at Taehyung who still seemed so uneasy about all of this. It hadn't taken much convincing to bring him along to Paris with you, all you did was tell him that it was himself or Jungkook and he jumped at the chance. Mostly because he knew that Jungkook wouldn't protect you as good as he would, that and he was Yoongi's right-hand man, it was better that it was him rather than anybody else.

"What about me? He doesn't love me that much." He half-joked, you knew he was worried about Yoongi firing him or worse and it wouldn't be the first time that Yoongi had someone killed for going against his word but technically this wasn't against his word. Yoongi hadn't directly told you not to go to the party but he didn't exactly tell you to come, you just went on your own accord.

"I'll tell him not to, he listens to me." It was true, Yoongi took everything you said as gospel which was probably a bad thing in the wrong hands but with you, it was perfectly fine. The elevator ride was silent as Taehyung ran through his head what he was going to have to do to keep his job with Yoongi while you were planning on how you were going to gain Yoongi's attention. The attendance at the Palais Garnier was well above the thousands so it was going to be hard sticking out in a crowd but you had the perfect plan.

Yoongi stared over at Namjoon as they glanced around the grand staircase entrance, Namjoon was watching out for the real reason they were there. There had been sightings of Yoongi's number one enemy, Mark Lee, in Paris all week so he took advantage of the ball tonight to fly out, using it as an excuse for you. Telling you that the ball was strictly for show purposes and he had no intentions of having fun there. If you knew the real reason he'd flown to Paris he had no doubt in his mind that you'd chain him to the basement in his mansion until the sightings had finished. Mark had been the number one enemy of Yoongi's since starting in the Mafia business. Mark was on a warpath with Yoongi doing everything in his power to ruin what Yoongi had and for no good reason. It had just been the way things were, whenever Yoongi would do something important Mark would do whatever it took to take it down. Even going as far as to try and kill Yoongi which, didn't work out too well for Mark who was now in hiding from everyone close to Yoongi.

"So far, nothing out of the ordinary," Namjoon slowed down at the end of his sentence as he saw Taehyung ascending the stairs holding your hand as you casually spoke with one another.

"What is it? Did he show up?" Yoongi laughed cockily as he followed Namjoon's gaze, the cocky smile being wiped from his face as soon as he laid his eyes on you. Your head was thrown back in laughter as you spoke with Taehyung, even Yoongi knew Taehyung wasn't that funny.

"What is she doing here? I thought you-"

"I told her I was busy," He confirmed what Namjoon was going to say and the both of them stared as you and Taehyung headed into the grand hall where the evening was going to go ahead. Dancing, singing, drinking and auctioning for the charity of the night.

"Keep an eye out for Lee. I'll be inside." Yoongi growled, his eyebrows knitting together as he straightened out his blazer and began heading in the direction of you and Taehyung. He was going to keep his distance for a while, figure out what you were doing here and with Taehyung nonetheless.

"Thank you all for coming tonight, I can't even begin explaining how much this would mean to the charity to see you all here tonight," A French woman began speaking into a microphone but Yoongi drowned her out, keeping his eyes strictly on you as you and Taehyung faced one another. Did you have any idea that he was watching you? That he was even there? He felt his blood began to boil as he watched you place your hand on Taehyung's arm and lead him over to the dance floor as if you were a happy couple. The two of you lost in your own world as you span around the dance floor together.

Taehyung felt uneasy as he wrapped his arms around your waist, slowly dancing around on the floor to the slow waltz that was being played by a live orchestra.

"At least look like you're having fun or my plan won't work," You pouted playfully as you stared up at Taehyung, locking eyes with him as he swept you around the floor. Ignoring everyone as you danced together, your dress flowing out perfectly as though it was made in a Disney movie.

"What do you want me to do?" Taehyung questioned as he began spinning you under his arm, bringing you so close to him your faces were inches away from one another.

"He's found us, make it look like we're flirting?" You suggested but Taehyung shook his head while laughing at you,

"Why not?" You seemed genuinely surprised that Taehyung wouldn't do that for you and Taehyung inched closer to you.

"Because I value my life," He whispered before spinning you back out from his arms and going back to a normal waltz, glancing over at his boss that had his eyes glued onto you. Taehyung could feel how much trouble he was going to be in when Yoongi would eventually come down and speak to you but a waitress distracted him.

"Drink?" A waitress called out, interrupting Yoongi's line of vision as he tore his eyes away from you to accept the drink from the woman beside him. Downing the whiskey before giving her the glass back and going back to you but he'd lost the pair of you in the crowds of people that had joined you on the dance floor.

"Don't frown too much Min, your face will freeze." The whole room seemed to fade away to Yoongi as he turned to see Mark standing behind him. A blonde girl holding onto either of his arms as they giggled wildly, probably having no idea what Mark was saying to make them giggling the way they were. Yoongi had seen this before. The girls were like groupies but for Mafia men, they would latch on to the first powerful man they saw and work their way up to the bosses where they could stay.

"Mark. What a pleasure," Yoongi's tone dripped with sarcasm as he stared down at the smaller man that excused himself from the ladies, giving them both some cash to go and bid on whatever they saw fit.

"It's a surprise seeing you here. The last I heard you weren't going to leave Seoul, something or...Should I say someone, had all of your time and attention?" Yoongi's heart began to race at the thought of Mark knowing about you, you were the one thing anybody could use against Yoongi. His weakness. One of the reasons he still kept your relationship hidden after all these years was because he was too afraid of someone coming after you.

"News is, you've gone soft," Mark added as they stood together at the balcony that overlooked the dance floor, Yoongi's eyes were scanning over everybody to find you to set his mind at ease but you were nowhere to be seen.

"Soft? No, never soft." Yoongi mumbled as he continued to scan the crowd, heart racing as Mark continued to drag on about Yoongi not being the cold-blooded leader he used to be but Yoongi wasn't listening. He was too busy trying to find you and Taehyung together, scanning over every inch of the room he could but there wasn't even a sign of you anywhere.

"Are you alone tonight Mark? Or are the groupies keeping you company?" He turned to look at Mark who was staring at him already, all he had to do was try and keep calm. If Mark had done anything to you he would have been bragging about it by now instead of beating around the bush the way that he was.

"The news in Seoul is, you lost your money and business...Do they know that?" Yoongi stated it loud enough for the two blondes that had begun coming back to hear and they left as soon as they heard the statement, Mark began to bite down on his cheek feeling the anger begin to bubble up in his body.

"What makes you think I won't make a move right here?" He questioned Yoongi who simply shook his head not believing for even a minute that Mark would try something at such a publicised event, stepping closer to the man so he would whisper in his ear but Mark let out a groan as something sharp hit him in the side.

"Because you're too chicken to try anything," You whispered to Mark as he began to fall limp in your arms, Yoongi's eyes widened as you pulled out a small knife from Mark's side and slid it into a holster that was around your thigh.

"Tae? Sort it?" You questioned as Mark began to let out small whines as he felt the blood seeping from his side, you'd hit him where you knew he'd die almost instantaneously but it seemed as though he was putting up a fight.

"Is there a problem?" A French guard questioned as he noticed Mark's body limping forward in Taehyung's arms, mumbling as he began to lose consciousness.

"Pardon! Notre ami est un peu ivre," You answered in French telling the guard that you were sorry your friend had a little too much to drink, you pulled it off by staring up at the guard innocently who nodded before leaving not noticing the blood pooling around Mark's side.

"I'll meet Joon and we'll take him out the back," Taehyung groaned as he began carrying Mark towards Namjoon that was just outside the hall. As soon as you were alone Yoongi stared at you waiting for some kind of explanation but you let out an exaggerated sigh as you looked at yourself in the compact mirror,

"I need to go and clean my cheek and hands," You whined seeing a small spot of blood on your cheek and hands as you strolled away from Yoongi who wasn't going to let you get off this easily and began following you.

"What were you thinking?!" Yoongi cried out as you entered the small women's bathroom together, three female all turned to look at you and Yoongi with a confused expression before leaving the room hastily. Yoongi stepped closer to you as you stood at the marble countertops washing your hands of the blood as you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Doing your best not to let Yoongi get the better of you, he knew what he could do with a single stare at you and that was, have you weak the knees for him.

"What are you doing here? I thought I told you I was busy," You rolled your eyes at him as you turned to give him your attention,

"I took away what was making you busy. Now, will you give me attention," As soon as Yoongi heard you asking for attention he smirked at you, a giant grin taking over his face as he realised what had made you fly all the way out here for him

"Is my baby needy?" He chuckled darkly, stepping closer to you so you would step back, only you hit the countertop and realised you had nowhere else to go.

"Can you blame me? You leave me alone for weeks and then run away to Paris without me," You pouted as Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, chuckling softly as he stared into your eyes.

"I was here on business," He referred to Mark as business and you sighed shaking your head,

"I took care of that business," You spoke as Yoongi carefully sat you on the edge of the marble counter and cupped your face in his hands, he knew he was supposed to be mad at you for putting yourself in danger the way you did but he couldn't stay mad at you when he knew how much he loved you. He'd been doing all of this for you, making sure Mark was out of the way once and for all so that you could finally come out in the open as a couple.

"You could have been hurt." He was doing his best to seem more annoyed at you than he was when in reality he was impressed with how smoothly you had gotten rid of Mark and he shouldn't have expected less.

"I'm an assassin, we take care of business quick and easy." The nonchalant attitude you were putting across only seemed to turn Yoongi on more until he couldn't resist it anymore. He ran his thumb over your lips and you smirked knowing that you had him in the palm of your hand,

"You wore my colour," He whispered happily as he lent forward, your lips centimeters away from each other as you nodded your head. Eyes fluttering shut as you waited for him to kiss you,

"I did." You whispered before he finally crashed his lips against yours, the fire spread throughout your body and you smirked against his lips. Wrapping your legs around his waist as you dragged him closer to you not wanting the kiss to end.

"You look breathtaking tonight, did you wear this for me?" Yoongi whispered against your neck as his hands carefully ran over the silk fabric you were wearing, causing you to hiss out as he rose the fabric up to expose your bare core. A disapproving look took over his face as soon as he saw that you were bare underneath,

"What?" You questioned as innocently as you could,

"If I wore underwear it would ruin the effect of the silk," Another innocent look stared back at Yoongi when he knew far too well that your actions weren't as innocent as they seemed.

"My dirty little girl," He hummed as he began kissing down your exposed neck, collarbone until he knelt down on the floor in front of the countertops, face to face with your core as he licked his lips slowly.

"Look at you, already dripping and I haven't touched you yet," He cooed as he ran one finger between your folds, slicking his finger up with your juices. The smallest touch from him making you hiss out in pleasure,

"Has it been that long? Just so desperate for any kind of touch?" He cocked his eyebrow up as he placed a small kiss on your left thigh and another on your right.

"Too long," You whispered in an annoyed tone only making Yoongi smirk more as he moved forward. Blowing cold air against your throbbing clit making you whine out at him, staring at him with pleading eyes as you waited for him to do something to you.

Without warning Yoongi leant forward to lick a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, sucking on your clit as he attached himself to you.

"Shit! Y-Yoongi!" You cried out, throwing your head back against the mirror as he began to moan against you,

"Taste even better than I remember," He chuckled as he began to slide his tongue through your folds a few times before attaching himself to your clit once again.

"Oh fuck," You cried out as you began to edge yourself to the edge of the counter to get closer to him not wanting him to leave your core alone. He smirked against your pussy, lifting one leg over his shoulder and pushing himself closer to you. The intensity began to build as he added a finger into you, humming out about how tight you were around his finger. Your head began to race with thoughts of someone walking in on you, it was a public bathroom, after all, anybody could walk into the room and catch you together like this but that only seemed to bring you closer to your edge.

"Don't stop!" You moaned out, threading your fingers into his hair as you rolled your head back again bucking your hips to get closer to Yoongi.

"Cum for me princess," He said as he added a second finger into you, his tongue lapping up all your juices as you began breathing heavy and moaning out his name. Yoongi smirked against your core, proud that you were being this loud despite being in such an open area,

"Cum on my tongue baby," He urged as he pulled you into him, gripping onto your ass as he sucked on your clit harshly. The sounds of your moans and wetness filled the air until you exploded. Throwing your head back against the glass so hard Yoongi was worried you would hurt yourself but he didn't stop eating you out once. Smirking as you mewled out his name, beads of sweat dripping down your head as you filled the room with desperate moans and whines.

Yoongi stepped away from you as he stood up straight, wiping the corners of his mouth as he smirked at you.

"W-Where are you going?" You panted as he walked towards the exit of the bathroom,

"My hotel room, come on dove. You're coming too." He chuckled darkly as an excited expression took over your face. Your eyes lighting up as you got down from the counter and felt your juices run down your thighs.

"I'll let Taehyung and Joonie know I took you and not to come to my room tonight," He linked his hands with yours and began leading you out of the bathroom ignoring the dirty looks you were getting from women outside of the door. All of them had been waiting for you to finish so they could head inside, embarrassment began to take over your body as you realised they'd all heard what was happening in there but that didn't stop you feeling needy for Yoongi and his cock. You simply began to walk faster, pulling Yoongi in the direction of the exit as you could feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second.

As soon as you were in Yoongi's hotel room he ripped the silk fabric away from your body exposing yourself to him. He smirked as you didn't hide your body from him, only kissing him and attempting to get him out of his clothes as fast as he'd gotten you out of yours.

"So hungry for me today," He praised as he began kissing down your neck, biting down on your skin as he pushed you back onto the mattress in the hotel room. You bounced a little as you stared up at him, watching as he slowly began to unbutton every button on the white shirt before exposing his body to you. Biting down on your lip you reached out to run your finger along his skin, smiling in awe as he let out a small hiss at the contact. It was nice to know that he had missed you almost as much as you had missed him.

"Need you," You mewled out as you ran your hand down to your core, rubbing your clit as you stared at him. Your fingers never able to do come close to what he felt like on you but you knew how much he hated to see you touch yourself. He swatted your hand away. Replacing your fingers with his own as he took in a sharp intake of breath,

"So wet for me again, such a good girl." You moved further back on the bed so he could kneel down on the mattress in front of you. He ran the tip of his cock over your folds and moaned out at how wet you were for him as he continued to coat his cock in your juices.

"Ready?" He questioned as he looked down into your eyes, aligning his cock at your entrance pushing his hips forward as soon as you nodded. You cried out in pain mixed with ecstasy, it had been so long since you had him inside of you. Your hands reached out desperately to the sheets as you clutched them in your hands, moaning out his name as you closed your eyes tightly.

"So fucking tight," He groaned as he slowly pulled out of you only to roughly push back into you the next second, the feeling of having his cock inside of you sent your mind racing.

Once you were adjusted to him he began to move vigorously in and out of you, moaning out whenever your walls would grip him tightly as if he was made to be inside of you.

"Missed you so much," You whimpered out as you brought him down into a kiss. His hips beginning to move in cyclical motions as he fucked into you. Each of his thrusts making you cry out louder than the other as they built up your orgasm.

"I missed you too baby, tell me...How does it feel?" You whined out as you tried to form words but it was as if you were losing the ability to speak thanks to the pleasure he was giving to you.

"G-Good," Was all you could manage to process as your mind clouded with desperation to cum around him once again. Your head was empty with nothing but the thought of cumming and him filling you up as he continued to fuck into you.

"Cute, you lost all the ability to speak properly." He scoffed as he continued to ram into your cunt, getting rougher with each thrust making you scream out in pleasure.

"I want you to cum all over my cock princess," He whispered in your ear as he pounded into you, grunting and groaning into your ear as he did so. His balls slapping against your ass as you let out loud cries of pleasure moaning out his name as he continued to fuck into you.

"Cum." He barked in your ear and as if under voice control by him and him alone you came around him. Digging your nails into his back as Yoongi fucked you through your orgasm making it last longer as he used his thumb to rub your clit. Your hips began to buck uncontrollably as you came down from your high, letting out a loud cry as you felt him fill you up. Hot cum dripping out of you as he pulled out and sank down onto the bed beside you, you let out a protesting whine as he left you but he cuddled up beside you. Kissing your sweaty skin as he told you how much he loved you.

"I promise that next time I'm busy, I won't leave you behind," You smiled tiredly as you let out a small hum of approval, closing your eyes as you grew more tired.

"Rest," He whispered as he pulled the covers over you both, kissing your skin as he softly whispered to you, helping you drift off in the night.

Groaning as you heard the door loudly being knocked on you sat up and pushed Yoongi out of the bed who in turn switched on the lights so you had to wake up with him.

"It's 4 am," You moaned as you watched Yoongi pull on a dressing down and open the door, standing there was Taehyung and Namjoon still in their suits from earlier in the night.

"Everything is taken care of. The rat is on its way home to Seoul where he'll be delivered to a funereal home." Yoongi nodded in approval of what Namjoon was saying before slamming the door in their faces to show he was annoyed at them for waking him up.

"Hey, they did your work for you." You told him as he crawled back into the bed, grumbling about how he was tired and just wanted to sleep beside his girl for the night instead of being interrupted.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @fan-ati--c @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @sw33tnight @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @that-anxious-bisexual

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 304: The Council of OFA

Previously on BnHA: Hawks and Best Jeanist were all, “what up Todofam, we are here to apply for the positions of ‘son #4’ and ‘weird uncle’, respectively,” and then proceeded to insert themselves into the family drama without waiting for an answer. Hawks briefed Endeavor on the nation’s current status of “totally fucked”, promised to help him sort that out, and then asked him about OFA. Endeavor was all, “oh do you mean One For All, the mysterious thing that my intern Deku was apparently being targeted for?” and then we cut away, presumably before Endeavor could clarify that it never occurred to him to follow up on that, and Hawks was all “no of course not, why would it occur to anyone other than me to follow up on any of this super weird and ominously important shit.” Anyway so meanwhile Bakugou was all “LET ME SCREAM AT DEKU UNTIL HE WAKES UP” and the other kids were all “NO”, and then the chapter ended with All Might being all “I wonder what the vestige!me is currently chatting with Deku about.”

Today on BnHA: Deku drops in on the Vestiges, who are all “sup Deku, how do you like our fancy chairs.” OFA II and III are all “if you need us we’ll just be standing here silently in the corner pretending to be invisible and sparking endless discourse with our mere existence.” OFA IV is all “and now I will explain to you in a very convoluted way that you being quirkless was actually a good thing, since it means that you are probably not going to suddenly drop dead at the age of twenty. But also you’re probably going to be the last user of OFA for that very same reason.” Deku is all “that is wild. I’m just gonna stand here and stare at my hand.” Nana is all “so now that that’s settled could you please do me a small favor and kill my grandson for me”, because having just one topic to discourse about this week WASN’T ENOUGH, apparently. Thanks so much Horikoshi.

(ETA: okay so just a note before I start, this week’s RHA translation was a huge mess, so I followed up this chapter by reading a couple of other translations. the main one I’m using for reference is the one by @hanashimas, whose weekly posts I highly recommend. anyway so you’ll see a couple of ETAs in this post in places where the initial translation was off.)

how many layers of bandages did they wrap this poor kid’s fucking hand in omg

jesus Deku. are you holding onto a bouquet of flowers under that thing?? or a tennis racket??

omg yes, finally

is he reading these names off a teleprompter lol. and if so, what has Jeanist ever done to slight you, Deku? “god bless Kacchan and Aizawa-sensei and Todoroki-kun and everyone else in the whole wide world... except for Best Jeanist. fuck that guy.” actually this joke would be funnier if half of tumblr didn’t legit feel that way lol but anyway

OH MY GOD

I NEED TO HAVE A TALK TOO. ABOUT, OH, EVERYTHING

I got immediate KHR vibes from ALL OF THIS. this is seriously such a Vongola aesthetic. “let’s use the luxuriously cushioned chairs with the seat backs that are ten feet high, and arrange all of the handsome ghost people in a big circle” like come on

that said there are also some slight LoTR vibes as well. “bring forth the ring, Deku”

I like how Six is sitting there with his feet drawn up all casual, but with his arms inexplicably sticking STRAIGHT OUT IN FRONT OF HIM and dangling over his knees like he’s doing some sort of zombie walk

apparently the Fourth wasn’t a big fan of shoes huh

interesting that All Might is the only one who’s still faint/indistinct, and and that Two and Three are fully visible

(ETA: the rest of my speculation about Two and Three has been moved into a separate post, the better to focus on the shit that’s actually happening in this chapter lol.)

and lastly, interesting that all of them are talking now, except for All Might (and I guess the Second and Third as well). to the best of my knowledge Deku hasn’t unlocked the Sixth’s quirk yet, so I guess the quirks don’t really have anything to do with it

oh and it looks like Deku’s mouth is still covered. I guess that’s convenient for the vestiges since we all know it’s hard to stop Deku once he gets going. but on the other hand it’s very inconvenient for people like me who wanted to see some interaction. alas

so First says that OFA’s power has grown a lot in the last four months (i.e. since Deku unlocked Blackwhip), and now the vestiges can communicate with each other as well as Deku

so even when Deku’s not around they can all just chill with each other. this is such a weird thing to me lol. like it’s cool, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also strange as hell to know that you’ve got eight other people hanging out in your head spying on everything you do and having conversations with each other about it. it would be like if Dark Shadow had someone to hang out with other than Tokoyami. good thing you weren’t triplets, Tokoyami

First says that it’s become easier for the vestiges to interact with Deku ever since TomurAFO barged into the OFA Domain back at Jakku. huh

(ETA: apparently this is because AFO forcibly pulled out OFA’s power when he was trying to steal the quirk, so I guess that makes sense.)

okay thank you Banjou for addressing this concern which I initially brought up as a joke, but which was apparently real enough for you to reassure Deku about

“don’t worry, even though we’re awake and hanging out inside of you at all times, we’re definitely not secretly watching and making fun of every single thing you do” hmmmmm

(ETA: “not that you could do anything about it even if we were, since you’re probably going to be the last OFA holder ever!” I don’t trust anything this asshole says lmao.)

OH SHIT??

YESSS DEKU now you can hold them accountable for all of their bullshit! because I do not doubt that there will be bullshit lol but let’s see how that goes

oh damn

well okay then. you didn’t have to stand up and walk over to him and loom all threateningly like that but okay sir

this guy has kind of a Kimimaro vibe to him. remember? that bone-growing guy from Naruto? except I’m pretty sure he had eyebrows. and wasn’t twenty feet tall. speaking of which, that explains the chairs

why are you wearing only 3/5ths of a shirt

lol what

someone’s gonna have to explain this to me. is he just redundant or something lol, or is he strangely poetical or what

(ETA: apparently HE’S MAKING A PUN omg. I immediately gained +10 love for him lol. also it flows a lot better in Japanese. this is one of the things Caleb is usually good at, so we’ll see what he does with the wordplay.)

omg the hermit theory is true!!

“I’M NOT WEIRD, IT’S SOCIETY WHICH IS WEIRD.” lol whatever you say buddy. also love how Banjou tried to give him a big hearty slap on the back but Hermit Boy was not having it lmao

IS HE TRYING TO CAPTURE HIM WITH BLACKWHIP

AND ACTUALLY, NO, SIR, AS A MATTER OF FACT, WE ARE NOT AWARE. SO SPILL!!

?!!?

okay my first response was LOL ARE YOU SERIOUS, THAT’S THE BIG SECRET!? -- and then it hit me what the significance of “died from old age... AT AGE FORTY” meant. at which point it was like “!!!!!” and then “OH, SHIT”

(ETA: there’s also an Iida joke here somewhere but I’m just too tired to make it.)

oh my god oh my god

did he somehow get a copy of the coroner’s report or something? like how does he even know that he died from “old age” as opposed to any number of other natural causes? ??

but anyway. so this is the quirk singularity coming into play then I guess. but then how come All Might is still alive and ticking?

(ETA: so this is one example of where this week’s translation is a mess lol. apparently the Fourth explains here that he didn’t know what the fuck he died from until All Might researched it. and it turns out there actually was an autopsy lol so there you go.)

so Fourth says he held OFA for eighteen years, and since he knew he would never be strong enough to defeat AFO on his own he basically just spent all his time punching rocks in the woods and training to power the quirk up

oh shit

is he implying that his body literally fell apart?? like that’s how he got the scars on his face? -- IS THAT WHAT KEEPS HAPPENING TO TOMURA, THEN. oh shit

DUDE

so you’re telling me that this quirk actively shortens the lifespan of anyone who uses it?? and my little boy here has had it now for a year already?? fuck me, I have immediately have a TON of thoughts about all this but let me save it until he’s done with his explanation

THANK YOU, DEKU

right?? how come All Might didn’t die then. even after he got injured. please don’t tell me he actually is dying still and is just being slow about it because I SWEAR TO GOD

what does this mean??

so what you’re trying to say is you all have NO FUCKING IDEA how long Deku’s gonna be able to hold this quirk before he SUDDENLY DROPS DEAD?! five generations ago this dude was able to hold it for eighteen years, and then four generations later All Might was able to hold it for thirty-odd years or so, and now Deku has it and you all have no clue which way it’s gonna go? actually this makes it sound like it really wasn’t OFA that killed the Fourth at all and you guys are just really bad at forming hypotheses. but since you’re making a big plot point out of it I guess it must be true

and don’t think I didn’t notice the part where you said you didn’t have OFA very long and then “died while fighting”, Firsto. I want to hear more about that. specifically who you passed the quirk onto before your death

and yes, if we are agreeing that OFA was the cause of the Fourth’s death, then the conclusion on this next page is the natural one to draw

so that’s a bit of a relief then, because Deku is quirkless too. so it means he won’t be able to hold OFA forever (and will probably have to find another quirkless person to pass it on to), but at least he won’t be randomly dying out of the blue next Tuesday or something

oh my god now he’s talking about OFA and AFO and user consciousnesses and all sorts of good theory stuff but it’s so much exposition. you’re really gonna make me read all this lol

wait what. why would All Might being quirkless have anything to do with the presence of his vestige in OFA Outer Space Party Land

but Deku is also quirkless and he’s clearly visible and chatting with you guys. so what gives. like how much of this is verified fact and how much of it is you guys just shrugging and making stuff up lol

SERIOUSLY, GUYS

BUT DEKU IS ALSO -- you know what, never mind sob. none of this shit makes any sense but whatever

(ETA: seriously, this all seems like an awful lot of speculation on their part. for Deku’s sake I sure hope they’re right.)

FSSKDJFLSKLKJLKJL ALL MIGHT IS FIFTY-FIVE?!

lol that’s a full ten years past my closest estimate, wow. but this pretty much confirms his age now at last! or at least confirms it within a couple of years, because we know All Might and Nana met when he was in middle school, and he presumably had the quirk by the time he took the U.A. entrance exam. so yeah. gonna go with fifty-five

so they think that because All Might was quirkless, OFA was better able to adapt to his body and became his true quirk, as opposed to being an extra quirk that stacked on top of the one he already had and overwhelmed him. ties in back to the whole “AFO used to bend people to his will by forcing quirks on them” thing, as well as the “Noumus are all mindless because of the strain of having multiple quirks”

Two and Three are really ruining the serious vibe of this scene here lol

they look like they’re doing the counting for hide and seek

and is this Deku talking now? I was about to get mad at First for implying that quirkless people are somehow freaks, as opposed to “normal” people jdslk

so in other words, don’t go giving it to your best friend all casually for shits and giggles, Deku. even if it would make a really cool climax for a movie. well shit. maybe that’s why they were so quick to nope back into Deku’s body afterward

so First says that because quirkless people are becoming rarer and rarer, the fact that All Might just happened to stumble upon Deku is “nothing short of a miracle.” which, yeah, that was definitely a stroke of luck there. being quirkless saved his life. but being quirkless is also part of why he was chosen in the first place, and we’ve always known that much

“in other words, kiddo...”

looks like there was some hurried clone stamp usage going on here lol. but props to RHA as always for putting this scan out so fast, especially given how exposition-heavy this week’s chapter has been

“anyways, that was the main topic” ARE YOU SERIOUS. there are like ten other topics imma need you all to get to here, people

(ETA: seems like this is a mistranslation; the line should actually read something more along the lines of “and now for the main topic.”)

FFFFFFFFF

“ENJOY YOUR CLIFFHANGER THIS WEEK.” dskfalkjlkjwlgkjl you really went and dumped this discourse on us yet again. fucking...

(ETA: forgot to mention, but as several people mentioned, this seems to be another mistranslation -- rather than asking Deku to kill Tomura as though it’s doing her a personal favor, Nana is asking “will you be able to do it.” in other words more of an “are you capable of doing it” type of thing. which is a very reasonable question to ask given that Deku is, well, Deku.)

anyways, and the answer is obviously going to be “no” of course. this isn’t going to end any differently than when the previous Avatars all told Aang to kill Ozai. but I guess it means we’re in for a fun conversation next week

so Nana looks pretty grim here though (nothing at all like the person who once taught All Might the importance of saving people with a smile), and I’m wondering if this means she believes that her grandson is already beyond saving. as in killing him would be a mercy, as opposed to him continuing to live with AFO bending his mind and body to his will. except if that is the case, I think she’s underestimating Tomura’s own will. and definitely underestimating Deku’s will to save

and also, just... I’m so fucking sick of AFO screwing the Shimura family over, honestly. this is exactly what he wanted. well fuck you, guy. you don’t get to have what you want. go out there and save Tomura, Deku. for his sake and for Nana’s. give them some hope. do your thing, boy. can’t wait for your big speech all about it next chapter lol

#bnha 304 #midoriya izuku #all might #ofa prime #ofa iv #idk what his name is I forgot it already lol #the actual forty-year-old man #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #ofa the first

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

Like You

Trequel to Half Of and The only ghost in Amity Park

“We need to talk, Fenton,” Valerie hissed, slamming Danny’s locker shut in his face. He pursed his lips and lowered his gaze but said nothing. Manson scoffed and stepped right up, putting her finger in Valerie’s face.

“He doesn’t owe you anything, Val so lay off. If he wants to talk to you, he will, not because you demanded it.” Val grabbed Sam’s wrist, strong but still such delicate bones. The goth flinched a bit as Valerie applied pressure.

“Only my friends,” Valerie hissed with a hard look over at Danny, “get to call me Val. But I guess we’re not friends if you kept something like this from me.”

“Val...erie, let her go,” Danny mumbled quietly. “We’ll talk after school, meet me by the equipment shed behind the football field.”

“Alone,” Val said, flicking away Sam’s wrist. “None of your adoring, enabling entourage, new or old.”

“No way in hell,” Sam said, clearly resisting the urge to hold onto her injured wrist. “Like we’d trust Danny with someone like you.”

“What? Human?” Valerie asked back. Danny stuck his hands between them and forced them apart. Now that Val was looking, the entire hall was watching them. Whatever, they didn’t matter.

“Cut it out,” Danny frowned, looking over both of them. “Sam, I’ll be fine talking to her alone.” He turned back to her with his blue eyes. As long as she’d known him, Danny’s had a presence about him. She took it as growing up in such a strange house and later her growing crush. But there was no way to explain away the icy, electric feel of his gaze holding her own. “3:30, equipment shed, just talking. Okay?”

“Fine,” Valerie said, turning and stomping down the hall so she had the last word. The rest of the day passed slowly as she gripped the sides of her desk and bounced her leg, thinking about Danny Fenton. How long had Danny been a ghost or half of one, how was that even possible? Had he always been that way and she simply hadn’t noticed? Her? The best ghost hunter in Amity? How much of Danny was real and what was just a cruel ghostly joke? That’s the question that burned the most. Danny seemed to be the only one who liked this new, more grounded Valerie. What would she do if her closest friend was just messing with her?

Finally, school ended and she stalked purposefully towards the equipment shed. Interesting choice of location, it was almost never used since most every day sports gear was stored in the locker rooms. Did he chose it because it was isolated? Danny didn’t seemed worried about confronting her alone, what abilities could he have that he wasn’t scared of her? That made her pause once the shed came into sight. She’d only heard about Danny’s powers, never having ever seen them firsthand. Valerie took an ectogun from her bag and slipped it in back waistband of her skirt. Just in case.

Danny was sitting on the roof of the shed, weirdly enough. It would be next to impossible to climb so he had to have flown. She’d already heard of him floating but the idea of Danny Fenton and superpowers still didn’t add up in her head. He was rubbing at a tear in his jeans when she approached. Danny gave a little awkward half smile that, a few days ago, would have sent her stomach into somersaults. Now seeing it just made her sick.

“Are you gonna hide up there all day?” She asked curtly, hands on her hips.

“You could always join me up here,” Danny shrugged, getting more comfortable on the roof. Val raised a disbelieving eyebrow, eyeing the lack of handles and the broken splinters on the old shed. “We’re far enough away, no one will see you use your hoverboard.” Just when Valerie thought he was done being surprised. She gaped open mouthed at Danny who got nervous and rubbed his hands anxiously. “You uh you wanted to talk so I thought we ought to lay all our cards on the table.” He took a deep breath, “I know you’re the Red Huntress Val...erie.”

“How!” She demanded, activating her board without thought to get to the roof. She grabbed Danny by the shirt and hauled him forward until their faces were inches apart. His body radiated a soft chill that brushed against her skin. He held up his hands in surrender.

“Since the start, Sam and I, we saw you in the park, remember? You caught us uhhhh,” Danny trailed off, looking away with a blush. It took Val a minute but she remembered one of her first outings with the suit, she was chasing Phantom and his stupid dog only to find Danny and Sam kissing in the bushes. She hadn’t cared about the love lives of losers at the time. It had only become relevant when she started catching feeling for Danny but he’d assured her multiple times that he and Manson weren’t a couple. “It wasn’t real, the kiss I mean. It was Sam’s idea, you surprised us and we didn’t have time to hide so you didn’t...” he trailed off.

"Didn’t, what?” She demanded. Valerie gasped when Danny simply phased out of her grip and assuming his previous position on the roof. She stared for a moment at her hands before looking up again at Danny who was back to fiddling with his clothes. There it was, irrefutable proof that Danny wasn’t human. It felt like her heart was being chipped away with a hammer.

“Look, this has been kind of a hard week for me,” Danny groaned, raking his hands forcefully through his hair. “I get my powers outed, I need to convince my parents not to kill me the rest of the way, keep the ghosts off my back for a period, get the government to acknowledge my existence all the while dealing with everyone’s stares and questions at school.” He tucked his knees closer and flopped his face into them. “I said I would be honest with you and I’m trying but I’ve already had to give so much of myself this week and... I don’t know, what do you even want from me?”

“I want answers!” Valerie tried to demand but it came across as more whiney. She pushed back any tears that were threatening to come. “I want to know what was real! Was our friendship real? Our feelings? Are you even real? And if you knew I Huntress all this time then why... why would you even talk to me? Were you just playing with me? Spying on me? What did you want with me?”

“I’m real, Val, I promise,” He held out his hand and she reluctantly took it. His hand was chilly but there always where, it was also solid with knobbing bones and ropy muscles. Beneath it all, there was a sluggish but persistent pulse. She squeezed his hand, it was a human hand and yet it had also passed right through her. How could he be real and not real at once?

“As for what I wanted, just a friend really,” Danny said, keeping his head on his folded knees but turning towards her. She read nothing but sincerity in his eerily blue eyes. “Sam, Tuck and I, we have serious history. We know each other inside and out. But you, you were someone new. I loved hearing about your interests, your dreams, finding out who you were as a person beyond that jerk who made fun of me the second week of Freshman year for wearing my dad’s jumpsuit to school. I liked being able to be a normal person with you, I think I had started to forget with the whole ghost thing going on.”

“What happened?” Valerie couldn’t help but ask.

“Lab accident,” Danny said quietly, “Sam and Tuck were there, wasn’t pretty. Thought I was goner for sure. I survived somehow but I got some freaky powers out of the deal. There’s downsides but some sweet benefits,” he tilted his head back and looked longingly up at the sky. “Flying is the best.”

“Yeah,” Val couldn’t help but sigh in agreement. She could almost the feel the sensation of the wind whipping against her suit. Hear the roar as she soared through the clouds. It was hard to imagine Danny flying but his eyes shined with understanding she usually only saw in the mirror. “So why did you hang out with me knowing I hunted ghosts?”

“It just sorta happened, You obviously sensed that Sam and Tucker weren’t too happy about the risk.” No kidding, Val had gotten warmer welcomes from freezers. “But you were cool, Val. Plus you,” he paused and seemed to consider his words. “I felt like once we got over the hump you would get it in a way the other don’t. You know what it like to balance two lives, to have insane power at your fingertips, to feel like if you take even a second break that the ghosts will overwhelm the town. It’s just... a lot to deal with alone, Sam, Tucker and Jazz, they try to understand but they just don’t.”

He looked over at her, “I guess it was nice to know that there was someone like me out there,” he blushed, “and that someone uh liked me. For being me, y’know?”

“Clearly I didn’t know everything,” she grumbled watching as Danny winced. Val frowned, she probably wasn’t being entirely fair, she hadn’t exactly been honest with Danny either.

“So you fight ghosts, huh?” Valerie couldn’t help was ask with a little smile. Trying to picture it. The Danny she thought she knew wouldn’t but this Danny... “Is that why you’re always running out of class?”

“Isn’t that why you leave?” He teased back hesitantly. “I’m honestly a little surprised no one figured me out before. I was really bad at hiding at first. Of course it’s only when I get the whole ‘secret identity’ thing down that I get exposed.” He huffed, the ends of his hair lifting out of his eyes.

“Secret identity, so you can turn into a ghost?” Danny was silent. “Have I seen you out there?” More silence. “Have I... have I shot at you?” Everything seemed quiet save for their asynchronous breathing. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“It stung but not enough to keep me down for long,” Danny said, flexing his arms but his smile was strained. There was something about it that was haunting, familiar. She turned to look at the woods because if she stared any longer she’d realize which ghost Danny turned into and neither of them was ready for that right now.

“So now what?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Danny sighed. “I’m kind of taking it one day at a time. Mom and Dad are nervous, jumpy, I’m not sure if they’re more scared of me or of themselves and what they did. My sister and friends are being annoyingly overprotective. People who hated me last week are suddenly in my face asking questions and demanding demonstrations. The government wants to kill me but,” he snorted a little, and tilted his head towards her floppily. “I'm also talking to you about this part of my life for the first time. Lying was a necessity I never grew comfortable with, I think I could do with a bit of honesty.”

“Yeah me too,” Valerie said, straightening up and looking Danny in the eye. “I’m still not sure how I feel about this. I don’t like ghosts and I likely never will. I’m going to continuing being Huntress and keeping the town safe. But I’m willing to give you chance, give you time to open up completely. It’ll give us both times to come to terms with everything, and maybe then we can figure out where we stand.”

“I’ll take it!” Danny beamed, “I was worried you were coming here to off me with that ectogun you have stashed in your skirt so this is much better!”

“How did you-” She gasped.

He winked and tapped his forehead, “I’m pretty sensitive to ectoplasm, especially out here in the real world. Gotta admit sometimes when my energy was low, I sought you out. Did you know your suit radiates a low level ectoplasmic field, even when you’re not wearing it?” He twisted his face in thought. “Now that we’re talking-talking, I should warn you what side effects excess exposure to ectoenergy can cause.” He twisted his hand and a small green ectoblast formed in his palm briefly before dissipating. “If that worries you, my parents can hook you up with some sweet ghost hunting equipment that won’t contaminate you.”

“So I could have powers like you one day?” She asked carefully, looking over her hands thoughtfully.

“Maybe, I don’t know. Mine was a kind of one in a million accident, well, two,” he made a face. “That’s whole other story, don’t ask. But we could maybe find out together, Val,” he winced. “Valerie.”

“Val is fine,” she said quietly, still thinking too many things. “We have a lot of things to figure out but in the meantime, you can keep calling me Val.”

“I’d like that,” he smiled. “So uh, do you want to come to movie night tomorrow? It’s at my house this week. I uh always wanted to invite you before but Sam, Tuck and I usually end up talking ghost stuff during the movie so we couldn’t before but if you’re interested... could be fun to have you there. We’re watching The Shining.”

“That movie is like a billion years old,” Val laughed with an eyeroll.

“It’s a classic, I was named after the kid in that movie!” Danny defended. “I’ll text you the details but its up to you. Either way, we’ll uh, we’ll keep talking. See you around, Val.” And just like that, he vanished. She swiveled her head around but Danny Fenton was truly gone.

“Jerk,” she grumbled but there was no heat to it. She heard a giggle above her and knew Danny, in his secret ghost form, was probably flying. And it was too nice a day to walk home. She activated her suit and took to the skies herself. Valerie didn’t know if Danny was with her or not, she just turned off her brain and fell into the motion of aggressive loops and high speed dives around her town.

Everything had turned upside down with the knowledge that Danny wasn’t who she thought he was. But again, things had been crazy since the ghosts first came to town. So she and Danny were at a stand still, not friends and not enemies, not open but not secretive either. It was a weird state to be in but Danny was probably used to being in a state of half life himself. But she’d worry about all that later, for now it just her and sky.

#surprise bitch bet you thought you saw the last of me #why am I adding to this series when I have so much else to be doing #anyway tada #if you liked Danny seeming okay and feral the last two parts #get ready for Danny whos actually really stressed and emotionally vulnerable #I actually was gonna have Danny confess everything to Val #but that line that 'he's given so much of himself away already' hit me deep #and I realized neither of them weren't ready yet #Val needed to adjust to this newer danny before learning hes phantom #and danny needed time before he had to let go of more of his carefully hidden secrets #they're at a standstill #who knows how long they'll remain as such #and if Val sat down and thought for .2 seconds she would know #but she *doesn't want to* not right now #at some point she'll make the logical leap but for now she's digesting as much as she can #if you thought Val was taking it too well #I just put faith in that past her anger Val is ultimately a good person and never really wanted to hurt the only friend who never abandoned

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Four / Irish Coffee

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

W/C: 3k

Warnings: alcohol, language, sexual harassment, physical fighting, Javi is a legend for this chapter/next lmao, reader wears makeup and heels but clothing is otherwise not described

A/N: HI I’m gonna forgo summaries for this series from now on, if anyone has an issue with that pls lmk and we can go back to it, I’m just sick of using like the same summary lmao! Hope you guys like it, idk when chapter 5 will come but somewhat soon!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Irish coffee: a cocktail consisting of hot coffee, Irish whiskey, and sugar, stirred, and topped with cream. The coffee is drunk through the cream.

Four nights after you first kissed Javier, and now many kisses later, Javier insists he take you to the one place he knows in D.C.: a nice bar in the downtown area. You’d spent the days visiting museums and monuments, giving him a tour of the Georgetown campus too. He’d hum along to the radio in your shitty car while you drove place to place. He surprised you with how much modern music he knew.

If the past four days have been getting to know Javier, privately becoming acquainted with each other’s minds and lips, tonight is some kind of grand exposition. Your brief whirlwind of a romance has been contained to your coffee shop and small restaurants off the beaten path. Javier is a well-connected man; he’s sure to know people downtown. From what he’s explained to you, he’s somewhat of a powerhouse in the DEA. Everyone downtown knows a version of the man, who goes by Agent Peña, but all you know is your Javi, your Javi who kisses you goodnight after buying you cupcakes, who drinks your peppermint mochas like it’s the nectar of the gods.

So, it’s safe to say you’re nervous. If he’s bringing you somewhere where he will know people, which he offhandedly told you, you’re going to be the living legend’s date for the night. As you stare into the mirror, your brow furrows in concentration, drawing a line across your eyelid with a pencil of kohl, your phone rings on the vanity in front of you. It makes you jump and the eye pencil drag upwards across your eyelid- most definitely not where you intended it to go. “Fuck!” you shout in annoyance and toss the pencil down. When you pick up, your voice shows your frustration. “Hello?” You ask sharply.

“Hey, abejita,” a smooth voice answers: who else but Javier.

“Hi, Javi,” you sigh as you press the button, moving the call to the speakerphone. “You made me fuck up my eyeliner.”

“Sorry. Just calling to talk.”

His words make you smile and your ears feel warm as they rush with blood. You aren’t picking him up for another hour. “What, you couldn’t wait that long to talk?” You ask him, biting down on your painted lips with a smile.

“No. I’m bored and I miss you.” It’s true, he thinks to himself. He hasn’t seen you all day. After spending the last three days in nearly 24-hour contact, he misses the sound of your laughter and the way your soft lips feel pressed against his stubbled cheek.

“Well, I suppose it’s been…” you trail off as you calculate, “about 20 hours since I’ve seen you. I”m practically going through withdrawals,” you laugh, and it makes Javier’s chest warm to hear that beautiful sound, even through the tinny receiver of the hotel’s phone. “You know, if you have a cute nickname for me, I need to have something equally cute for you.”

“There’s a difference, abejita,” Javier teases, opening the hotel window to smoke out of. “You’re cute. I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“I am many things, little bee, but I am not cute,” Javier chuckles as he sticks the cigarette between his lips and lights it up.

“Well, I think you are,” you refute in a stubborn tone. “You bought me cupcakes on our first date. That’s cute. You come to my work and bring me treats and kiss me in front of my coworkers. That’s cute too.”

Javier shakes his head. Sure, the things could be classified as cute, he supposes, but they’re not the normal Javier. Sexy, rude, intelligent, any of those words could describe him. He’s a playboy, a heartbreaker, and all in all is, by principle, a lone wolf. Well, he was. He’s been chasing Escobar for years and years… and now he’s dead. Maybe he can allow himself to start anew, and this new beginning has to have you in it.

He takes a slow drag from the cigarette, getting lost in his own thoughts and forgetting to answer. The silence makes you suspicious. “Javi? Did I lose you?”

The words snap him back to reality. “No, I’m here. I’m sorry, I… zoned out there.”

“Good,” you smile as you wipe off the messy eyeliner and apply a new, perfectly winged layer of the dark makeup. “I suppose I’ll just have to see what comes. Nicknames have to be earned, not given. Did you ever have any nicknames when you were little?” You ask as you brush a sparkling powder over your eyes.

Javier thinks for a second, almost to the point where you have to ask again if he’s there. That seems to be Javier’s biggest flaw so far. “No, not really. Sometimes the other kids would call me Peñita. Didn’t like that one,” he chuckles, and you can hear air rush past the microphone as he exhales the smoke into the ever-darkening D.C. sky. “My mom had all kinds of names for me, but they were the things you’d call a little kid.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you and you need to speak. “That’s cute. Tell me about your parents,” you ask him as you continue to brush various makeup products across your face.

Javier shakes his head. “That’s more of an over-drinks topic, I think.”

“When have you ever held back information from me?” You scoff lightly, as if you’ve known him a thousand years. It hits you as you say it, the whirlwind this entire thing has been. You’ve known Javier for five days, and he’s already everything to you. And he’s going back to Colombia in 3 weeks. It makes your heart sink in your chest, and anxiety creeps in, the realization that he might not be falling as quickly as you are. Maybe it’s time to pull back a little, you tell yourself. He won’t be here long.

“Ha,” he says dryly and takes another drag from his cigarette. “Well, I’m ready when you are, if you want to come get me a little earlier.”

His emotionless tone makes you panic. You wonder if you just went somewhere you shouldn’t have by asking about his parents, if you’ve just crossed some line you didn’t know existed. You desperately want to ask him, to reassure yourself and get rid of the worry slowly collecting in your gut, but you don’t. You can’t. You shouldn’t. “I’m still getting ready,” you tell him, and it’s truthful. “I’ll be there at 7, like we said. Is that alright?” you ask.

Javier blows a breath of smoke into the night, the cloud of smoke mingling with the heat puff of his breath. “Sounds good to me. I’ll leave you alone to get ready,” he tells you with a small smile.

“Alright. I’ll see you then. You’re wearing something nice, right?” You clarify one last time.

“Whatever you wear will be beautiful on you. Don’t worry about it.” Javier, ever the king of flattery, looks down and appraises his own outfit. “But yes, I’m wearing something nice.”

You smile at the reassurance, looking down at the swirling colors of your makeup palette. “Well, thank you. I’ll see you in a bit.” -

You have to say you’re surprised at the level of refinement of the hotel. You’d expected the DEA would’ve put Javier at some shitty little hotel, but it’s surprisingly nice. You remember a few days ago, the sheer terror masked behind a stoic face, but you chuckle as you consider that this famed agent had very few context clue skills. This hotel is nice, a couple of stars at least. Why would they put him here if they were firing him?

Javier stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray when he sees your car approaching, straightening his sport coat. You hold back a grin as he walks over, but the fighting ends when you see him smile as he opens the door and slides in.

“Hi,” you beam at him, and he leans across the center console, stealing a kiss.

“Hey.” He sneaks one more kiss, one that lasts a little longer and dares to use a bit of tongue. He only breaks away when you do with a laugh.

“My foot is on the brake right now; be careful but kiss me one more time,” you ask of him with a grin, and he happily complies, cupping your face and kissing you. When he breaks away, your eyes open slowly and you can’t hold in your happiness. “Alright, now we’re going. You’ll have to guide me,” you tell him, and he nods.

“Sure. You’re just going to go out of here and onto that street to the right,” he says and points the way for you.

Your car follows the path, nodding along to Javier’s instructions. “Jesus, that’s a fancy place. How much does that hotel cost a night?” You marvel as you stare at the gorgeous building in your rearview mirror.

Javier shrugs. “I’m about to find out. They’re only paying for a few nights for me, then I’m on my own. I’m guessing it isn’t cheap,” he chuckles as he looks over his shoulder. “Or I might switch hotels. Don’t know yet.”

Frowning, you take a turn he’d earlier instructed you to follow. The hotel fades from sight, the dark blue of the December night filling your rearview instead. “Well, I know of a place you could stay for way cheaper.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, adjusting in his seat to face toward you more. “What is that, pretty thing?” He asks, a hand resting on your thigh.

“Stop,” you giggle and rest one hand atop of his. His fingers are much larger than yours, a fact that makes you shudder as his fingertips find bare skin there. “Pretty thing? That’s weak,” you tease, and Javier just rolls his eyes. “I was going to say you could stay with me, but now I’m not sure,” you say teasingly, eyes locked on the road and most certainly off of Javier.

His brow furrows. “Well, I can pay you then.”

You shake your head. “Javi. We’re dating… aren’t we?” You ask, the hesitancy creeping into your voice. Now that you say it aloud, you’re not entirely sure that you are. “I mean, I don’t know, I just kind of thought,” you stumble over your speech, word-vomiting out whatever you can to backtrack.

The man next to you tilts his head, but he nods. “I… I haven’t dated anyone in a long time,” he admits, his fingers starting to slowly grip your thigh rather than rest atop it. “Is this what dating is like to you?”

You nod too, knowing he’s watching you, staring down at the steering wheel. “I… yeah?”

A small smile cracks on his face, making the mustache there twitch softly. “Then I guess I’d say we’re dating. But that doesn’t matter, I don’t want to live in your place rent-free for three weeks.”

“It’s an extended vacation,” you chuckle and bring your hand back to the steering wheel to have two hands for a turn. “Don’t worry about it. I’d like having you around. We’ve already been together nonstop for a couple of days. What’s a little more?” You ask as you look over at him, seeing his eyes soften and his forehead relax from its tightened state. “And besides, any hotel is going to be painfully expensive right now. D.C. during the holidays makes the hotel rates skyrocket.”

He nods as you speak, processing the idea. “Well, do you have a guest room? I don’t want to invade your space, I can sleep on the couch if you don’t, or I can stay in a hotel.”

“Javier,” you chuckle, putting your own hand on his thigh to reassure him. “We’re not moving in together permanently. You’ll stay with me until you need to go back to Colombia, and that’s that.” Your mind has been made up. He can’t argue it, and he knows it from the firmness in your grip on his leg, in the way your body goes rigid as if the words are some formal deal that requires a handshake.

“How do you know I’m not some serial killer who does exactly this to lure you to your death?” Javier asks dryly as he looks over at you, lifting a hand to trace the side of your face slowly.

“Because you’re Javier Peña. Your name was in the newspaper next to Steve’s. You work for the DEA.”

“Some of the guys I work with could definitely be serial killers, that doesn’t discount anything,” Javier grumbles, which makes you laugh and makes him even grumpier.

“The fact that you said that to me in the first place is my proof, Javi,” you chuckle and pat his thigh softly. “I’m an excellent judge of character. I just graduated from 7 straight years of studying psychology. Remember that?” Javier’s quiet and you know you’ve won. “Then tonight we’ll get your stuff after dinner and get you settled in my place. How does that sound?”

He’s quiet again, studying your face and the way your cheeks move with your lips, the way your brows rise and fall when he’s being ridiculous. He’s just as trained as you are, with 10+ years on you to prove his competence. You like him. You might even love him already, he thinks to himself. Your pretty lips purse at his silence and he finally cracks. “That sounds great, abejita.” Javier leans across the console to kiss your cheek, which makes you shiver softly, like any touch from the man does. “Thank you.”

“Thank me by buying me some drinks, huh?” You tease, turning back to focus on the road.

The bar was nice. Really nice, you learned as you walked in. It projected the essence of Javier to you; naturally, you loved it from the moment you looked around. The room had a low ceiling and wood paneling around the walls, a floor that your short heels clacked upon as you walked to the only open stools- well, only one stool, you realized as you walked. Javier walked behind you, a hand on the small of your back, admiring your legs in the outfit you wore.

When you finally found the available spot, where you’re now sipping a drink, you’d found that there was only one stool.

“Do you want to go sit in the restaurant?” You asked Javier as you nodded with your head to the side of the establishment with tables and booths.

He shook his head and pulled out the stool. “You sit. I’ll stand.”

“Javi-”

“Just sit, abejita. I’ve been sitting all day. I can handle a little standing,” he chuckles and kisses your head, gesturing to the stool. When you sit, he smiles down at you and wraps his arms around you loosely from behind. You lean back against his strong chest.

Over the past few days, you and Javier have made infrequent contact, a hug in greeting or in goodbye and plenty of shared kisses. This, however, speaks directly to your touch-starved soul, the way his body practically encompasses you. He orders himself a whiskey and the drink you’d ordered on the first night you met him for you, then continues to stand there.

You crane your head around to look at him, smiling. “I love this place already,” you say, admiring the way you can hear over the hum of the other patrons and the quiet music playing. You’re much more accustomed to places your friends would drag you, where it was more for the cheap drinks than the atmosphere.

The crow’s feet by his eyes are more pronounced as he smiles at you, but he looks even younger as his lips curve up softly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Shit, is that Peña?” A loud voice calls from somewhere else in the building, and Javier turns, his face falling flat then smiling as he sees the voice behind it.

“Be right back,” he murmurs and presses a kiss into the top of your head.

It’s someone he recognizes, that’s for sure, as the man and Javier wrap their arms around each other and firmly pat the other’s back. “No shit! When did you get back to D.C., man?” The other guy asks. “Escobar just died and they’re already sending you back?”

The bartender delivers your drink, and you turn your back to Javier, thanking them and sipping at your liquor. Over your shoulder, you can hear the man and Javier talk shop, about Colombia and their days as DEA trainees, about Escobar’s recent death and Javi’s recent promotion. You glance over your shoulder at him, smiling as he easily talks with the group. You’ve not had the privilege of seeing Javier with his friends- or what seem to be his friends- yet, and he seems fairly social but humble. You appreciate that.

The talking goes on for a while, and you sip at your drink and look around the bar, appreciating the wood that makes a nice noise as your fingernails tap against it rhythmically.

When your drink is about half-drained, the bartender sets another in front of you. It’s different from what you were drinking, a fluorescent neon color surely made by a mix of ridiculously fruity liqueurs. You look at the bartender with confusion and they nod to a man at the end of the bar. He’s not looking at you, which makes it all the easier to stare at the drink in confusion and disgust rather than drink it. His tie is absolutely egregious, boldly patterned in bright colors. There’s not an ounce of taste about this man.

The drink goes untouched, sitting in front of you as you study it. There seems to be layers, maybe, or maybe the mixed alcohols just congealed awkwardly. You sip your drink and then Javier’s whiskey, refusing to drink whatever fucking concotion sits in front of you.

Five or ten more minutes pass of Javier talking with his friends. You don’t mind- you know the feeling of catching up with people you haven’t seen in a long time. In that time, the drink remains untouched, and you ask the bartender for a refill of your go-to drink.

Not long after the second one arrives, you feel a hand on the curve of your back. You turn, hoping it’s Javier, and instead find it to be the man at the end of the bar who ordered you the drink: Tie Guy. Panic sets in immediately and you arch your back to dodge the hand, which only follows your spine. “Hey. Thought you’d like this drink. You tried it yet?” The man asks, voice clearly showing that he knows you haven’t.

“No,” you say with a swallow, turning away from him. “Not exactly my style.”

“I thought it was such a pretty drink for such a pretty thing.”

Pretty thing. When Javier called you that earlier, even though the name wasn’t one you liked, it was at least endearing. To hear it again, dripping with sleaze and ill intentions, you shiver and push it further away. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s not my type of drink. My boyfriend will be right back, and-” you try, hating the defense you try to pull.

“He drinks whiskey,” Tie Guy says and gestures to Javier’s ¾ full glass. “No fun. Boring. Too manly, pretentious. Real men can drink something fun like these and not need to worry about someone thinking they don’t have a set of balls,” he says and his fingers trace the rim of the martini glass the concoction sits in. Now you’re definitely not drinking it, now that he’s touched it.

“Please, I’m not interested,” you try, turning around to face the man that towers over your seated body. “I’d appreciate it if-”

“Hey,” a familiar voice- thank fuck, it’s Javier- calls from behind you. “Excuse me,” he says and pushes Tie Guy out of the way, his arm wrapping around you. It’s a relief, a grip meant entirely for comfort and not for the coercion the man across from you had tried. You melt into it instantly. “She said to back the fuck off, or could you not fucking tell?” He hisses at the man. Javier pulls away from you, stepping towards the man who instinctively steps back.

“Whiskey drinker,” the man snorts and rolls his eyes. “So manly, so over the top. Gotta let everyone know that you’re the alpha, the dominant male, huh?” He asks, getting in Javier’s face. He’s taller than your Javier, but lankier. The fact that Javier could take him crosses your mind, though you hope desperately that it doesn’t come to that.

“What I drink doesn’t fucking matter,” Javier says and shoves his chest. “What matters is that you’re fucking harassing my girlfriend. Back the fuck off,” he says and turns from the man, back to you, his hand on your upper arm. “You okay?” he asks quietly, and you respond with a nod and a forced, close-lipped smile.

“Yep, go ahead, go back to your little prude,” the man laughs drunkenly, his voice full of vitriol. “Oh, no, I bet she loves to act all shy, but then she’s a kinky little thing in bed, isn’t she?” He asks, taunting Javier. “Ties your ass up and whips you, with that sass. I wonder if she-”

The sentence isn’t finished. Javier’s fist flies through the air and connects with the man’s face, followed by a loud, ringing thud as the taller body hits the floor.

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only-johnny-deppp · 3 years

Photo

“Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...”

Johnny Depp’s NEW INTERVIEW!

Last saturday, August 14, The UK Times, released a new interview with Johnny for the Sunday Times section. It was realized sometime earlier this month, in London, probably on the same day he and Andrew Levitas were recording for the Q&A for the “Minamata” release in UK. This is Johnny’s first interview since the UK trials in London last year, and released three years after Johnny’s major interview for the British GQ Magazine. Here Johnny and Andrew Levitas speaks about “Minamata”, his future as actor and a thing or two about his personal life, although he cannot talk about the court case.

For those who couldn’t read yet, here is the FULL interview: Enjoy.

***

“I’M BEING BOYCOTTED BY HOLLYWOOD”

Johnny Depp has a new film out this week. In the opening scene his character, the real-life photographer W Eugene Smith, says, “I’m done. I’m tired. My body is older than I am. I’m always in goddam pain. I can’t trust my f***ing dick any more. Constantly in a foul mood. Even the drugs bore me.”

I ask Depp if Smith’s despair resonated with him. Depp stops. Rocks back and forth. “That’s interesting,” he replies with painful hesitation.

“I didn’t approach playing Smith in that way… Although you bring your toolbox to work and use what is available. Having experienced...” He stops again. Depp takes any questions that might refer to his calamitous libel case last year slowly, in a mumbly, croaking drawl. “A surreal five years…”

In the film Smith needs to revive his reputation. In real life Depp’s task is even more daunting. Thanks to the judgment, everyone can call him a “wife-beater”. Now he must convince a Hollywood still convulsed by #MeToo that he’s not toxic — and that any attempt to rebuild his career is a risk worth taking. This is Depp’s first interview since the case.

We are speaking over Zoom, Depp in his London home, in front of a gold-framed painting. The 58-year-old is wearing a lot of clothes. Earrings. Floppy hat. Sunglasses. Bandana. Scarf. Checked shirt over a T-shirt with an indiscernible slogan. If you saw him on the Tube*, you might think he was off to work at the London Dungeon*, to play most of the characters.

PS. For those who are not familiar with British words: * Tube = British slang for London Underground, the subway trains. * London Dungeon = is a walk-through experience that recreates scenes from London's scary history in a mixture of live actors, special effects and rides.

Depp resumes, talking in broken sentences about the new film, Minamata, in which Smith, via Life magazine, exposes the brutal mercury poisoning of Japanese villagers in the early 1970s.

“How do we do this?” he asks rhetorically, meaning how to speak about the elephant in the Zoom. “Well, there’s no way one can’t recognise the absurdity of the mathematics.” He grins. “If you know what I mean?” No. “Absurdity of media mathematics.” He talks in riddles. “Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...”

He trails off again. He is holding a big brown roll-up of some sort. “What the people in Minamata dealt with? People who suffered with Covid? A lot of people lost lives. Children sick...Ill. Ultimately, in answer to your question? Yeah, you use what you’ve got. But what I’ve been through? That’s like getting scratched by a kitten. Comparatively.”

Last July, I went to the High Court in London to watch Depp on another screen — a video from the socially distanced court where the Hollywood star was losing a libel action against The Sun after it called him a “wife-beater”. It was the grottiest showbiz trial of the century. There were photos of the actor passed out in a foetal slump, socks on show. One lengthy exchange involved faeces. Another urination, inside or outside a house, after a violent night with his ex-wife Amber Heard.

This had all been going on for a while. In 2016 Heard applied for a temporary restraining order against him. The couple had long endured a narcotic, booze-filled, childish relationship, but that does not matter — 12 incidents levelled against Depp were proved, said the judge, and abuse is abuse, regardless of how badly they both behaved. Depp wanted to appeal, but the court said no. Next April in the US he has a $50 million defamation case against Heard relating to an opinion piece she wrote about being the victim of domestic abuse. It may be his last roll of the dice.

In the 1990s Depp was a sensitive heart-throb. Cooler than DiCaprio, edgier than Pitt. In this past year he has been stripped of his status and dignity. On day three of the trial Sasha Wass QC, representing The Sun, asked Depp about daubing a penis on a painting. He could not remember. “That would be quite a big thing, painting a penis on a picture?” Wass asked. “Quite a big thing?” Depp asked.

It was a well-delivered line, but Depp was on show. Performing. Now he is more timid, less lucid. His people say he cannot talk about the court case given the looming US trial, yet it hangs over everything. The director of Minamata, Andrew Levitas, is also on our call — as a pub trivia aside, Levitas is married to the Welsh singer Katherine Jenkins.

The two men clearly get on. “With regards to journalism, it was important for us to put across in the film the power of truth,” Levitas says. Depp nods. “The responsibility of journalists to look after citizens of the world. [Our film] coincided with the moment important publications had to put Raquel Welch on a cover to get enough eyeballs to sell enough ads in order to put something meaningful inside. A result of that is clickbait — it’s destroying the purpose of journalism,” Levitas continues.

“You said it beautifully,” says Depp, one of the world’s most pinned-up men, who built a career on magazine covers. “I couldn’t say it better than that.”

Last month Levitas wrote to MGM, which bought Minamata for the US market but decided not to release it. He accused MGM of being concerned that “the personal issues of an actor in the film could reflect negatively upon them”. Then the letter got really strong. Levitas accused MGM of failing in its “moral obligation” to release the film and said it needed to explain to the victims “why you think an actor’s personal life is more important than their dead children”. He then attached Smith’s photos of ghastly deformities that shocked the world 50 years ago.

“It’s important that the movie gets seen and supported,” Levitas says. “And if I get an inkling it’s not going to be, it’s my responsibility to say so. Where it goes from there? I don’t know. But we have responsibility to these victims . . .”

You can see why he’s passionate. The film is good. MGM bought the film because it is good. Depp is good too. He disappears into the role, far from his more recent pantomime parts. It’s being released worldwide, just not in the actor’s homeland.

Depp, who also produced the film, interrupts. “We looked these people in the eyeballs and promised we would not be exploitative. That the film would be respectful. I believe that we’ve kept our end of the bargain, but those who came in later should also maintain theirs.”

“Some films touch people,” he adds. “And this affects those in Minamata and people who experience similar things. And for anything…” He pauses, as he does. “For Hollywood’s boycott of, erm, me? One man, one actor in an unpleasant and messy situation, over the last number of years?” He trails off. “But, you know, I’m moving towards where I need to go to make all that…” Again, he trails off. “To bring things to light.”

The fact, as I think Depp knows, is that for his career, the court that matters is not one of law, but public opinion. On social media, where a lot of minds are made up, Depp’s good reputation will always outweigh the bad, thanks to his frequently blinkered fans.

Outside the High Court, as Heard arrived, I saw Natasha, 30, yell: “Get hit by a truck, Amber!” She is extreme, but the persistent way his fans demand that others think their idol is a saint shows a career revival will happen. After all, most filmgoers do not follow his private life at all. To them, he is Jack Sparrow, Edward Scissorhands. To them, he is a star — and a star can take an awful lot of heat before it burns out.

“They have always been my employers,” Depp says of his fans. “They are all our employers. They buy tickets, merchandise. They made all of those studios rich, but they forgot that a long time ago. I certainly haven’t. I’m proud of these people, because of what they are trying to say, which is the truth. The truth they’re trying to get out since it doesn’t in more mainstream publications. It’s a long road that sometimes gets clunky. Sometimes just plain stupid. But they stayed on the ride with me and it’s for them I will fight. Always, to the end. Whatever it may be.”

Depp will talk like this for ever — about his “truth”. Minamata is the last film Depp has listed on the industry site IMDb, where actors usually have half a dozen in development. So, yes, fans of the actor can see Depp in a new role now — it is a return, but is it a relaunch? The film was finished in 2019, way before last year’s court case. Is that it? His last film? He thinks and looks off to his bookshelves, at biographies of Betjeman and Olivier.

“Er...no,” he says, eventually. “No. No. Actually, I look forward to the next few films I make to be my first films, in a way. Because once you’ve...Well, look. The way they wrote it in The Wizard of Oz is that when you see behind the curtain, it’s not him. When you see behind the curtain, there’s a whole lot of motherf***ers squished into one spot. All praying that you don’t look at them. And notice them.”

I would ask him to explain, but I am not sure he is an explainer. Watch this space, I guess, but he is already taking a first step back. After we speak, it is announced Depp is getting the coveted Donostia award at the San Sebastian Film Festival next month. Some people are just too famous to fail.

~ Interview by Jonathan Dean, in London, for The Times UK (released on August 14, 2021)

#Johnny Depp #New Interview #Interview #Minamata #Justice For Johnny Depp #I Believe Him #Johnny Depp is Innocent #The Times UK

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