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mzminola · 9 months

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Bat Brat Age & Role Shuffle AU:

Once upon a time there was a young Gothamite who went to the circus to see the Flying Graysons, a pair of acrobats of world acclaim. The mafias hadn’t started paying attention to Haly’s as a potential squeeze in the protection racket yet, so absolutely nothing went wrong.

Several years later Jack and Janet Drake get divorced, but that’s unrelated.

Also unrelated, Bruce Wayne eventually debuts as Batman. Not too long after that, Crystal Brown overdoses while Stephanie is at school and Cluemaster is busy with two-bit supervillainy.

Blaming both herself and Arthur for not being there, Spoiler sets out to kill her abusive dad, running into Batman along the way. They get along as well as you’d expect two people who are similar in all the worst ways, but Bruce can’t stop Stephanie despite her being, like, ten. He’s new at the vigilante thing and she saw his face (there may have been a brick involved), so they have a mutually assured destruction thing going on.

Spoiler bargains to only beat up Cluemaster, not kill, if Batman teaches her to be the best possible crime fighter ever. He agrees. Once Arthur is in jail, Bruce steps up to officially foster Stephanie.

Spoiler keeps flying at Batman’s side, continuing her extensive training. They both lean into the Brooding Loner theme, so Stephanie is only an associate of the Teen Titans, not a full member. They make her feel awkward, and her intense Bat-training makes them feel judged.

Meanwhile, Tim Drake started college at about the same time most people start High School, having gone super hard on academics to drown out his parents’ fighting before their divorce. A big fan of both the Flying Graysons and Batman, he takes the plunge on maybe not actually being he by handcrafting a costume for her Original Herosona Do-Not-Steal, Batgirl! to attend a convention.

Tim being an overachiever, and also a Gothamite who’s lived this long, the costume is fully functional for crime fighting, which comes in handy when a Rogue crashes the con.

Stephanie is younger and Tim a less experienced crime fighter, so Spoiler and Batgirl butt heads a lot once Batgirl starts flying through the night, but they’re always down to team up to dunk on Batman (Tim loses some of the hero worship once actually doing the hero job).

Tim has to pretend to be a perfect heterosexual cisgender young man for her parents by day (or at least for Jack, Tim’s more hopeful about Janet) and so uses Batgirl time as a chance to experiment and as an outlet for a lot of things. She flirts with Batman all the time, which makes Spoiler mime barfing because ew that’s her dadmentor, gross.

Spoiler is even more obnoxious when Bruce flirts with Catwoman and gets along even worse than canon!Dick does with Talia.

Bruce and Stephanie’s too-similar personality clashes get worse the older and more confident Stephanie gets, culminating in an explosive fight when she turns eighteen and ages out of the foster system. She spends a few weeks living with Arthur (out on parole again) out of spite, and then hightails it to New York to prove she can be a team player and join the Titans for real.

Sick of the extreme uptick in brooding, Alfred badgers Bruce to get the fuck out of the manor for something other than crime and tormenting the Wayne enterprises Board of Directors.

Bruce goes to Haly’s Circus.

You can guess how that ends.

It doesn’t even occur to Tim that twelve year old acrobatics prodigy Dickie Grayson wouldn’t stay with Haly’s Circus, surely John and Mary had some kind of preferential guardianship documentation. So while Tim is now done with her LIS degree, has a job, and presumably could be an eligible foster parent, Bruce already has custody by the time Batgirl encounters Robin in the field.

Batgirl makes sure Tony Zucco’s entire organization comes crumbling down while Batman and Robin deal with the man himself.

Stephanie finds out about Batman’s new sidekick from Tim instead of Bruce and reacts…

Badly.

Canon!Stephanie has some pretty damn strong jealousy issues. She hasn’t even been gone two months yet and Bruce already has a new partner? A new kid? Who does Bruce think he is, replacing her like that? Who does the kid think he is, stealing her dadmentor?

God, and he’s so much peppier than she is, in a brighter costume, Spoiler could always make Batman smile but Robin makes him laugh. He’s got the murdered parents thing in common with Bruce too, parents who never did any crime, unlike hers. This isn’t fair.

Tim thinks Stephanie needs to get over herself and not be a jerk to the kid on the rare occasion she visits Gotham, if she can’t handle being nice. Stephanie accuses Tim of being a kiss-ass to Batman, says Tim must be so thrilled to finally be the more experienced crime fighter for once, and oh, isn’t it a dream come true to work with one of the famous Flying Graysons? Tim throws a book at her head.

Two or three years later, when Tim has already been going out in the field less frequently, doing more casework from the computer, considering retiring Batgirl and working up the nerve to come out as a woman in her civilian life, her parents arrive earlier than they’re supposed to for dinner just as she’s getting back from patrol. In costume.

There’s a lot of shouting. Accusations. Assumptions. Hurtful things said. Some supportive things said, too. Jack blames Janet for Tim “dressing in drag to run around with lunatics!” Janet blames Jack for Tim never talking to them about all this. It doesn’t help that Tim got a small laceration on her temple which is bleeding like a motherfucker when she comes through the window; their baby could have been killed!

Eventually everyone calms down; Tim agrees to put her vigilante work on hold while they all attend family counseling (which she’s tried to get them to do before). Jack admits Grandpa Charlie would be proud of Tim’s heroism. Janet asks what name Tim prefers to be called, and starts listing notable women from ancient history when Tim admits ‘Batgirl’ is the only girl name she’s chosen so far.

Unfortunately, just a few weeks later, the Joker and his henchmen break into a Drake Industries medical manufacturing facility to steal something while Jack is there, on the day Tim came to meet her dad for lunch.

Tim takes a bullet to the spine, instead of Jack taking it to the gut.

While Tim is in the hospital, fifteen year old Dick Grayson is dealing with complicated feelings about family. The Gotham socialite sphere and media keeps gossiping about his status as a foster kid; Bruce’s first still had a living father, a criminal, of course she was in the system, but Richard is an orphan, why hasn’t Bruce adopted him? None of them think to ask Dick how he feels about that; his father is John Grayson, he doesn’t want a new dad…

But he would like more reassurance than he’s getting that Bruce wants him around as himself, not just a crime fighting partner.

Bruce is not good at other people’s feelings; his attempts to not impinge on the Graysons’ memory or make Dick feel pressured about adoption come across poorly.

Then Dick gets a letter from someone claiming to be his half-sister. Since when has he had a half-sister? Is this for real? Does he really have more family out there?

Melinda doesn’t betray Dick, but they both still end up dead at the Joker’s hands in a warehouse on the other side of the world anyway.

Stephanie was in space when it happened. She misses the funeral. It sits hollowly in her chest; she was never there for the kid, never acted as a big sister, now he’s dead and she missed the fucking funeral.

She never wanted a little brother. But she had one anyway. And now he’s dead.

Spoiler gets nearly as self-destructive as Batman.

A few months later the Gotham police commissioner’s thirteen year old daughter Barbara Gordon knocks on the door of Stephanie Brown’s apartment in New York, demanding she come back and pull Batman’s head out of his butt.

“He’s come close to killing people,” Babs says severely, photos taken with a ‘borrowed’ crime scene camera documenting Batman’s self-and-others destructive spiral spread out on the coffee table. “He wasn’t like this when working with the Spoiler.”

Along with the photos, there’s a methodically constructed timeline of Batman’s crime fighting partners lining up with Bruce Wayne’s fostering history. The extreme prejudice Spoiler uses whenever Cluemaster gets out of jail and the similarities between Robin and the Flying Graysons’ costumes is noted in the margins.

“Trust me, kid, if I could pull B’s head out of his ass, I would,” Stephanie says, sarcasm covering up her nerves at their secret identities being blown. “Now why are you here, instead of showing all this to Daddy?”

Babs rolls her eyes. “Because Dad would have to arrest him.” There is an implied duh.

“Well, then, you should be familiar with dads not doing what we want.”

Stephanie drives Babs back to Gotham because she’s thirteen and traveled all the way to New York by herself. Stephanie may be a bit paranoid about kids traveling alone right now.

Alfred compliments Babs’ detective work and makes her cocoa. Bruce reads the margins of the timeline and remembers trying to get Dickie into a subtler costume; the grief and guilt make him say unkind things to Babs. This does not sway her from the conviction that Batman needs a partner again.

Some more unkind words and an altercation with a Rogue later, Babs is that partner.

“The hell are you even gonna call yourself?” Stephanie asks, visiting while Babs is in training. Babs lives with her dad. Bruce isn’t fostering her. Stephanie is gonna be this kid’s big sister anyway. She’s gonna do it right this time, dammit.

“Sparrow,” Babs says. “I thought…” For the first time Stephanie’s ever heard, Barbara Gordon sounds less than 100% confident. “A songbird, in Robin’s honor. And ‘Sparrow’ starts with the same letters as ‘Spoiler’ so it’s...it’s after both of you.”

Stephanie is going to blame the Batcave training mats stench for how her eyes water. “Good name. Dickie’d like it.” She never knew him well enough to know that, but what can it hurt to say?

(On Halloween, the ripples of Superboy Prime’s punch reach back in time, righting what should never have gone so wrong, and Dick Grayson crawls out of his own grave. Unfortunately for everyone, Deathstroke is the first to find him.)

Tim is busy with physical therapy, family counseling, her library job, her new vigilante idea, and getting her name legally changed to Timothea Jacqueline Drake. She doesn’t find out about Sparrow until Babs is back from her misadventures in Paris and Hong Kong with Lady Shiva, and takes down King Snake’s gang at the docks.

Batman’s very first message from Oracle is IF YOU DON’T DO RIGHT BY THE NEW KID I’M STEALING HER TO BE THE NEXT BATGIRL.

Meanwhile, young teenager Jason Todd is stealing tires to pay for his mom’s medicine while his dad is in jail again. Two-Face, Willis’s most recent boss, won’t even bother to pay for his arrested henchmen’s bail, let alone lawyers, and the Gotham court appointed ones are a crapshoot.

Willis never wanted Jason doing crime, but Jason never wanted his dad doing it either, so tough fucking shit all around. Before getting arrested, Willis shared just enough information about his henching gigs to keep Jason away from them. Don’t go to that part of town tonight, avoid the docks next week, never buy anything from Scarecrow’s ex-goons even if they’re working for someone else now.

So when Jason sees the Batmobile just fucking sitting in Crime Alley, he steals two tires and leaves a note on the dashboard with everything he knows about Two-Face’s latest plans.

The snarling photo of that coin-flipping fucker’s arrest in the papers two days later is the most satisfying thing Jason’s seen in his life. It doesn’t get him his dad back, but it sure feels damn good.

So maybe Jason listens in harder on other Rogues’ henchmen and mafia goons chatting with each other in bars and trying to impress the working girls with how much they know, and maybe when the Batmobile shows up a few blocks away from Crime Alley, it loses another couple tires and gets an even longer note.

The third time Jason does it, a hand lands on his shoulder and a voice says “Dude—” from behind him; he swings out with his tire iron, clocking Sparrow in the face.

“Oh, shit,” Jason says, stumbling back. He just whacked Batman’s sidekick! Everyone knows Batman is super fucking protective after the second one died! Oh shit, he is so fucked.

“Dude, ow,” Sparrow says, hand to her jaw. “Nice reflexes, but ow.”

“No shit, nice reflexes,” Jason says. “This is Gotham. Do people just love being snuck up on wherever you’re from?”

“I’m from Gotham too, jerk,” Sparrow says.

“Don’t sound like it,” Jason points out. She has an accent. It’s subtle, but there. Guessing by how her eyes widen, not many people notice. “What do you want?”

“Uh, for you to not steal my boss’s tires?” Sparrow says. She rubs her jaw. “Like, we appreciate the tips, but could you leave the Batmobile in one piece?”

“You can afford to replace them,” Jason says, rolling his eyes. “I gotta eat.”

“Is that so.” Sparrow narrows the lenses of her mask. It’s freaky. She reaches for her belt; Jason jumps back, raising the tire iron higher. Sparrow huffs. “Chill. I’m giving you stool pigeon money. It’s not as much as the tires cost, but it’s better than nothing.”

Jason eyes the money when she holds it out. He doesn’t like thinking of myself as a snitch; this is revenge, it’s getting back at the fuckers who won’t help their own people out. But he does need the money, and what is he gonna do, fight Sparrow for the tires?

“Fine.” Jason snatches the cash out of Sparrow’s hand, eyeing the numbers in the corners quickly before hiding it in his hoodie. “I gotta worry about the big bad Bat coming after me for fucking up your face?”

“Oh, god, no, it’s embarrassing enough a civilian got a hit on me, I’m not telling him it was a teenager.”

She’s definitely a teenager too, but Jason decides discretion is the better part of valor and keeps his mouth shut.

Within a week, the Todds qualify for a health insurance plan Jason’s never heard of before. A pilot program by the Martha Wayne Foundation.

Next time, instead of jacking tires, Jason asks Sparrow to teach him how to use those nifty grappling hooks in exchange for information on a Mr. Freeze scheme.

Leaving off here because there are a LOT of moving parts to figure out for the ensuing canon plotlines, and how they'd change. Also, if any other teams ages and roles outside Gotham have been shuffled around too, or if they're all as per canon.

#minor character death #some canon some noncanon #I'd like to leave Helena JPV Cass Damian in their canon roles #who is located where for the Quake has an impact on the NML arc #does Young Adult Stephanie or Teenage Jason get the unplanned pregnancy arc in the middle of that mess?#DC #Batfam #fic ideas #Batkids RoleSwap #Batkids Age Shuffle

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 4 years

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I really liked the Savanaclaw pregnancy hcs may I request the same for Malleus and Azul please?

(I’m also gonna put my kid headcanons in here since people seemed to like that too~

me, after writing Malleus’ portion: can’t wait for Leona’s daughter to fall in love with Malleus’ son)

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul genuinely had no idea what to expect from a human/mermaid relationship so he was on edge from the second you informed him of your pregnancy, part of him feeling happy that he was having a family with someone like you while the other side of him was paranoid about how it’d all turn out. He remembers his unhappy childhood all too well and has no intentions of having his children go through the same struggles. He keeps a careful eye on you during the pregnancy and has you monitored closely by professionals to assure nothing is going wrong, wanting to keep not just the babies but you in good condition just in case anything went wrong. He only breathes a sigh of relief once you’ve given birth and what he’s dealing with is laid out on the table.

One child, a daughter who’s a little on the quieter side but takes great joy in the Leech twins antics. She’s more the type to keep to herself but she clearly admires her fathers business sense, learning many of her life skills from him (which makes him quite proud). She’s an overachiever for sure, another thing she’d inherited from her father, but she’s not one to rely on anyone for help as she worries about either being used for her intelligence or owing someone something she’s not willing to give.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus is a little surprised to hear that you’re pregnant but he reacts quite calmly, asking if this is something you were okay with. You’d discussed having a family before as Malleus made sure to cover all the bases of important things before getting too invested in the relationship so he already knew you both wanted children, but he had to be sure you were comfortable with it now, too. Unsurprisingly he’s not the only one who takes care of you as he’s considered quite important so you have a whole legion of resources at your fingertips, but he prefers when it’s someone like Lilia, Silver, or Sebek taking care of you as he truly trusts them. In the end he tries to be there with you every step of the way despite being busy and having his own obligations, not wanting you to feel like you’re going through this pregnancy alone.

Malleus has one little fairy prince who’s quite cheerful and friendly in nature, probably due to his uncle Lilia’s influence; he’s a bit mischievous in nature but that’s what most expect from fairies. He’s inherited his father’s incredibly magical talents and boasts amazing strength even from a young age, bound to become a prodigy once he starts attending school. Malleus tries to keep him humble while also letting him know he shouldn’t let anyone walk all over him.

#Azul Ashengrotto #Malleus Draconia #Twisted Wonderland #Disney Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Disney TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #TWST Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST x Reader #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader

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joonapeach · 3 years

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skylines (nj)

college!au, where namjoon openly chases you and you love running from those advances. that is, until everyone in your architecture department finds out you’re the daughter of the man behind the biggest architecture firm in the country.

alternatively... namjoon is a simp for you until he’s suddenly not

author’s note: sometimes i just wanna write for the fun of it and not take life so seriously so this is what i churned out. 8.8k words of some minor pining and mini character development for our oc because tbh, being a student sucks and you get so caught up in your insecurity sometimes

also reposted on ao3

[this is fluff and light-hearted, with a bit of a rivalry trope, 8.8k words]

You love skylines.

From when you were six years old with short legs, you remember craning your neck up high to see each building that surrounded you. At that age, the world seemed big and you seemed small but you loved it. You loved seeing the world build and function around you.

From then on outwards began your decades-long relationship with your first love - buildings.

Well, you called it buildings and your father called it architecture. You were the daughter of his dreams, his proclaimed legacy. What luck I have, he would say, that I have a daughter who will grow up to work beside me.

Growing up, those comments were your food for the day. You would eat up his encouragements and cheers throughout high school, serving him back your high grades on a gold platter.

This is the way you’ve worked through your past nineteen years. It’s a little basic, maybe, but you’ve operated on your father’s ambition for you.

But like all good things, even that seemed to come to an end. Since entering university and embarking on your path as an architecture major, the once comforting encouragement has slowly changed to a choking chain around you.

You’ve learnt a lot in two semesters at university. You’ve learnt how to finish assignments the night before, how to memorize historical names and dates minutes before an exam, you’ve learnt how fun it can be to be with your friends.

But most of all, you’ve learnt that… you’re not special.

You’re surrounded by overachievers, all like you, all perhaps better than you in some way. You’re the daughter of the man behind HN Architects, but some of your classmates look like they’re on their way to the top of the chain.

You always thought you deserved your seat, your privilege, because you’d worked for it. These days, it doesn’t seem much like that. And you worry that your father is thinking the very same thing.

Let’s finish this assignment, you sigh, there’s not much left. Let’s do it, you give yourself a pep talk, fighting back a yawn at the practically empty library before dawn.

Books crash down on your table, right beside you. You shake, being pulled so abruptly out of your reverie. Although maybe you should be thankful, for the sleep that was threatening your productivity seems to have run away from the sound.

“Excuse me,” you scoff loudly, making your presence known to the disturbance.

From above the tower of books on the desk, peeks out a familiar dimpled smile. His eyes glint with mischief and despite the early hours of the day, his face reads no exhaustion.

“You’re excused.”

You groan. “There’s an entire empty library, you can only sit here?”

“Studying is more fun with company,” he retorts with a grin.

“It’s studying. It’s not meant to be fun,” you reply, hostile. “Didn’t I tell you to stop showing up in front of me with no purpose?’

He smiles again, confidently with his eyes unmoving from you. It’s almost unnerving, how much you see Namjoon smile in front of you. Architecture students are not meant to be this happy. They aren’t meant to carry a warm smile everywhere they go, looking at people with such attentive intensity.

“I haven’t shown up without a purpose though,” he says. “I came to ask for help with the assignment.”

This time, you smile. But your smile is one of disbelief and amusement.

“Yes, that’s very believable, Namjoon,” you cock a brow. “You’re the one finishing assignments a week early and screwing up the curve for everyone but I’m sure I could help you with whatever you need.”

He grins, taking a seat next to you. “Hey, sometimes even I need help,” he replies but then pauses. “Ah, you’re right. I should’ve gone with coming to offer you help. That’s a lot more believable.”

“I don’t need your help,” you argue. “Stop showing up in front of me. And stop subtly flexing in front of me. It’s nauseating.”

He throws his head back and laughs. He looks so happy that it almost stirs a scary, fluttering feeling in your stomach. “You should be the last person to feel jealous of me, _____.”

You glare at him. “Yeah, because I’m the one who threatens your ranking?”

He shakes his head. “No, because I would help you with everything if you just asked.”

You still, for a moment. His words lull over in your head and they feel a bit weird. Your major is competitive and cut-throat, even if it doesn’t appear it. To you, Namjoon is your biggest rival, your biggest worry because you can never match up to him.

“Well, I’m not asking you for a thing. Is there really nothing you stress over?”

“No, there is. I just don’t cry over my textbook the nights before exams.”

“That was one time,” you mumble, infuriated. “And I had every right to be crying that night. It was the hardest exam that term and I have big shoes to fill. I can’t afford to be bothering people, like you,” you say with an intentional offense.

He takes none. “Big shoes? Who’s putting expectations on you?”

“Just some family. Stop being nosy,” you say swiftly. “And you didn’t even tell me. What do you stress over?”

He pauses, not giving a response for a moment. You wonder if it’s because there’s really nothing he stresses over. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. While you and your friends have all cracked under the pressure of your degree, you especially with the added burden of your father… Namjoon has not once shown signs of struggle. He walks through life with that smile every day.

“Finding work,” he says after a while.

“Huh?”

He meets your eyes. “You asked me what I worry about. I worry about finding work when I graduate,” he says sincerely.

You bite back a rude laugh. “Please, Namjoon. Get real,” you roll your eyes. “You really think you can worry about that? You were the top of our class all last year.”

You don’t do a good job of hiding your envy, but it’s beyond you to care at this point. You’ve become this person now. The one who seeks everything out of their number on the paper.

“But I don’t have any connections. I come from a village, practically, as you like to call it,” he says with a chuckle. It stings you a little, he’s referring to the time you and your friends had put him down out of jealousy with those words. But he doesn’t say it like it bothers him. He says it like it’s true.

“So?” you say, looking away from him and back on your sheet. “You don’t always need connections.”

“Not always, but a lot of the time,” he shrugs.

“Any company who takes a look at your record and speaks to you for five minutes would want you, Namjoon,” you exhale, knowing your words are 100% true. You think about your father, about HN Architects. Namjoon’s the kind of guy who your father wouldn’t think twice about hiring. He’s the epitome of someone who could fill any shoes you gave him.

You scoff bitterly. “Wait a second. Why am I comforting you right now? You’re a success story in the making,” you snap and he laughs, even though you didn’t intend it to be a joke. “You should be comforting me, you idiot. I don’t even know if I’ll have Mr. Labadee’s assignment done in time for submission!”

He puts his hands up. “Okay, okay, don’t worry. Why do you think I’m here?” he looks away, still smiling as he takes the pencil from your hand and moves closer to the sheet.

“What?” you say, watching the way his eyebrows furrow and his eyes scan the paper. He’s losing himself in the sheet now, and it feels like watching a prodigy at work. You picture this is what it would feel like to watch Bill Gates code on a computer before he formally started his career or watching The Beatles pen a song before they made it big.

“Hm?”

“Did you come here for me?” you ask and for a split second, you see his eyes shift. “Did Chae tell you I was here?”

He doesn’t respond, instead focusing on the assignment. “Your calculation is wrong here. Look,” he says, pointing at a section. As he explains your mistake, you smile satisfied.

He doesn’t need to admit it. You two have gone through this very situation so many times now, that you both know it’s true. Namjoon always comes for you.

You have kept your background, your family, extremely private since joining university.

In high school, you made the mistake of letting people know that you were the daughter of HN Architects. It resulted in years of people smooching up to you, gossiping behind your back, mean assumptions, and just a general nightmare.

That nightmare would only multiply if your friends here found out about it. They were all architect majors, all in the same cut-throat degree, and you came from privilege.

It scared you, knowing what could happen if they ever found out. You begged your family to make sure that nothing would tie you to them here, keeping your name different on the registrar, not publishing photos of you in the paper. You couldn’t risk all the friends and relationships you made. Even if they said things won’t change, you know they would. They always do.

“I need to sleep for 10 years,” you mumble, falling on your bed.

“Fuck this, I wish I was you right now,” Chae cries from her side of the room. “I’ve got one more submission.”

“I woke up at 4 to finish it so you should be fine,” you laugh, looking at her. “And did you send Namjoon to me?”

Chae fights a smile on her face. You sigh, knowing you’ve opened Pandora's box.

“He came to me asking about you last night. I told him you were sleeping, but you’d be at the library at 5 working on the assignment,” she smirks cheekily. “Why, did he come?” she asks, not hiding the overly inquisitive edge to her question.

You say nothing, deciding to turn on your laptop.

“He did!” she screams and your eyes widen, telling her to be quiet. “Sorry! I just can’t help it. That’s so sweet,” she squeals.

“Stop sending him after me. You’re encouraging him.”

“You’re encouraging him!” she counters. “You let him help you with your assignment, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but-”

“And you showed up at his dorm last week for notes, didn’t you?”

“Okay, but-”

“And you told him off for helping Eun like four days ago, remember?”

“Chae,” you stop her, sternly. “Have you lost your mind? Don’t you realize what all those things have in common?”

“They all are evidence of the fact that you reciprocate his year-long courtship?”

You roll your eyes. “No, idiot. All these things are work-related. I can’t afford to be falling behind, and I need his help.”

“Okay, but you were jealous of Eun-”

“I was annoyed that he was helping other people score higher! The last thing I need right now is the lazy kids of the class becoming my competition too,” you complain, grumbling.

Chae stares you down. “_____, not everything is about your degree,” she says light-heartedly, but you know your statement bothers her.

Exhaling, you shut your eyes. You hate it when conversations come to this. Sometimes, you wish you could just tell people which family you came from. Maybe it would do them good, to make them realize that yes, for you, everything is about your degree. Everything in your life revolves around being successful in this path.

You were cynical but at least you were real. You admitted things the way they were, when competition was competition, you said it, and when you needed something, you asked for it. That made it okay, you told yourself.

And when it comes to Namjoon… it’s especially okay. He’s both the only reason you’re hanging on okay in your degree, and the reason you feel insecure. You wonder how it can be that someone like him exists.

“Anyways, are you really gonna leave talking about Joon there?” Chae scoffs. “He’s liked you since we started. You really won’t do anything about it?”

“Namjoon is nothing but another classmate that stresses me out, Chae. I don’t see him that way. I just like his work ethic.”

Chae laughs. “You’re so skewed, honestly. Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Why, are you planning on ratting me out to him again?”

“No, silly,” she laughs, although you both know it’s likely she’d do it again. “Let’s go to the Autumn fair tomorrow. After I submit.”

“The fair? You mean those three stalls they set up and call it an event?”

She frowns. “Don’t be mean. Hobi and the others have really been working hard on it this year. It’ll be nicer than the last, I promise.”

“As long as there are at least 10 booths this year.”

“You’re too mean for your own good, _____,” she says, tsk-ing. “One day, you’ll see what it’s like to be on the other end.”

Your overactive imagination always paints a skyline for you, where there’s an empty space. You can always picture different styles of buildings, standing together, making a city.

It’s at times like those you realize that even if you wanted to give up, even if you tried to pursue something else, your heart will always come back to this. There is nothing more that belonged to you than this.

Even if it’d become difficult now, it didn’t matter. It became a source of worry more than an outlet of passion, but it’s still your calling. You can’t give up on something you love this much.

“Your toffee apple is dripping,” you hear his voice before you see him.

You want to turn and snap at him but the sticky toffee syrup that falls onto your fingers stops you.

“Ugh,” you groan, trying to fix it. Namjoon’s hand comes out with a tissue, quickly wiping your fingers without a word. Even after he’s done, the sticky feeling remains. “I should just throw this away.”

He laughs. “Let’s get candy corn.”

“No, thanks, I have to go find Chae and Yuna.”

Even though you step away, you hear his footsteps almost immediately behind you.

“What’s the rush?” he says, catching up beside you. When you two walk together like this, his tall figure towers over in a way that makes you feel small. “Shouldn’t you offer to buy me candy corn? Did you forget how I helped you at 5 in the morning two days ago for Professor Labadee’s class?”

“You chose to wake up at that time, not me,” you say, keeping your eyes trained ahead. You weren’t expecting much from this fair, but the students had done well. Bright fairy lights decorate the lamp posts around you and along the long path, dozens of stalls are set up. It all feels a little bit like a movie.

“As long as you got it done,” he says under his breath. You dare to take a glimpse of him and inhale sharply. He’s wearing his smile, he always is, but the fairy lights reflect on his face, illuminating him like an angel. Everything about him feels good.

You look away almost immediately. “Stop following me Namjoon,” you say, stopping at a trinkets stall and smiling at the girl behind the table.

“But I like seeing you outside of architecture things,” he grins confidently.

You opt to ignore him, asking the price of something that catches your eye.

He cranes his neck to see what it is. “Want me to get it for you?”

You quickly counter. “Absolutely not,” you say, handing over your money notes.

“You’re really buying an ornament of buildings?” he cocks a brow. “Don’t you want something like this instead?” he picks up a small snow globe, shaking it so the snow moves. The globe is miniscule to begin with, but you notice how in his hands, it looks almost tiny.

“What can I say? I like buildings.”

He smiles. “More than people, maybe.”

You sigh, ignoring his statement. Once you get the paper bag with your purchase inside, you keep walking ahead. You count to three before you hear his footsteps mimic yours.

“I’ll buy you candy corn, then you leave me alone,” you turn to say to him. “It’s not good that you’re always showing up where I am.”

He nods like an obedient puppy. Then he frowns and asks, “why is it not good?”

When you don’t respond, focusing on walking to the candy booth, he adds, “is it not good for you? Getting attached to me now?”

You don’t have to see his face to know he’s doing his goofy smile again. “It’s not good for you to keep going through these many rejections in a lifetime.”

He laughs, your words not bothering him the slightest. Standing in front of the candy booth, Jungkook and Jae, two of your architect classmates greet you.

“Hey Joon! Aw, you two hanging out again?” Jae smiles widely as if he’s in some big secret. You roll your eyes, not saying a word but pointing to the candy corn.

“_____ is treating me to candy corn. Isn’t she sweet?”

“I’m not treating you out of kindness, I’m doing it so you feel compensated for your efforts with my assignment.”

Jungkook and Jae share an amused look that you almost miss. Shuffling through your pocket, you start counting the money to give. As you hand over the money to Jae, Jungkook places a brown paper bag in Namjoon’s hands.

“You two enjoy yourselves,” Jungkook beams brightly.

You scoff. “Is there really such a thing as enjoyment when I have him on my tail?”

Without bidding them a proper goodbye, you walk away from the stall, leaving the three standing. Like clockwork, Namjoon is beside you again.

“Here,” he says, and suddenly the bag of candy corn is in your hands.

You raise a brow. “What are you giving this to me for? You were the one who wanted it.”

“You were eating a sad, overpriced toffee apple. This should be for you too.”

“Namjoon.” You give him a look, but he pays no mind.

Without saying anything more, you two walk together in silence. It didn’t intend to be this way, but it feels nice now. You feel good that you were dragged out of a cycle of the bedroom to the classroom to the library for once.

Of course, it’s weird that amidst all this, Namjoon is the one beside you. Usually, when you see him, your mind wanders to the place that curses him for being everything you wish you were. But tonight, you’re laying off those thoughts.

Staring at the crowd around the speakers, you two pause for a bit. You see Chae and Yuna, along with your other coursemates all together.

Still beside you, Namjoon speaks out of the blue. “Why don’t you call me Joon?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t realize I was required to,” you shrug at the random question. “I don’t know you like that.”

“Everyone in our class calls me Joon. Even your group member who I met that one time is calling me Joon,” he argues. “You know me better than all those people. If anything, you should be the only one.”

“What are you on about? I don’t know you at all,” you throw a blank look his way. “And don’t argue that we spend a lot of time together. You follow me around and show up where I am. That’s not spending time together.”

“We’re spending time together right now, aren’t we?”

“It’s a first. Don’t get used to it.”

He laughs as if your cold remarks are something affectionate. “I don’t think I really could get used to seeing you outside the library, _____. You’re there more than me and I’m always studying too.”

You scoff cynically. “Are you flexing your rank again on me?”

“_____, if I cared so much about my rank, I wouldn’t be helping you with work all the time,” he laughs, amused.

“I don’t know. Maybe helping me is all part of your plan to keep beating me,” you say. “Isn’t this just a power move? You always showing up to help me.”

He laughs again before his stare stills on you. His eyes are bright and sparkling… or is it just the effect of the stupid fairy lights? You can hardly tell.

Despite yourself, it all makes your stomach drop. You hate it when Namjoon shows up unannounced in your life, but more than that, you hate it when he gives you this kind of look. Like he can’t look anywhere else but at you.

“More than a power move, it’s just a gesture for you.”

The fluttering feeling worsens and you blink. You choose to say nothing, instead staring ahead at the view. “That is the ugliest building I’ve ever seen.”

For a second, he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Eventually, he humors you. “It’s not all that bad.”

“In my professional opinion as a future architect, that is the exact type of building I would want to bulldoze.”

“Well, in my professional opinion as another future architect, I’d say your standards are far too high.”

“I’m allowed to keep my standards high. It’s me,” you smile with a glint in your eye.

He laughs, staring at you softly. “That I can agree with.”

You taunt him playfully. “You’re so predictable. Does it not get tiring hanging off my every word?”

He shakes his head loyally. “Absolutely not. I think everything you say is valuable and worth hanging off.”

“How lame,” you joke although you two share a smile. It’s true, he is a little predictable. But it’s Namjoon’s predictability that at times, catches you off guard. It’s fun, knowing that he’s two steps behind you wherever you are.

A warm feeling stirs in your body and you wonder if it’s the autumn air. Glancing up at Namjoon, the same air ruffles his hair endearingly and you tear yourself away from staring at it.

“I’m only gonna say it once so if there’s any word of mine you wanna hang off, it’s this,” you say before shoving the bag of candy corn back into his hands. “Power move or not, thanks for helping me. I really need it sometimes and I appreciate it.”

The grin on his face widens. “One more time, I didn’t hang off it enough!”

“I told you, only one time.”

“But the music was so loud, I couldn’t hear you well.”

“Too bad.”

“Come on, _____, take pity on me.”

“Shut up and eat your candy corn.”

You find yourself quickly back in your routine after the Autumn fair, working on new assignments and projects till your worst nightmare comes to life unexpectedly.

“Please be on time, _____!” Chae repeats to you for the fifth time that morning.

“Chae, I’ll be there. I’ll literally run from the design building to the auditorium, okay?”

She clicks her tongue at you. “Stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by showing up. You should be excited.”

“I am. But… I mean, do we really need this kind of random assembly for our architecture department?” you groan, slipping your laptop into its case. “Can’t they just give us the extra time to work on our homework?”

“But there’ll be companies there!” she retorts, wide-eyed and excited. “Just imagine. This is like those movies, where they come and scout students and then bam, life is sorted.”

You nod, forcing a smile. You remember your privilege, knowing your worry has never once been finding work but living up to the work that was set out for you. But you could never explain that here. How could you cry about the burden that kept you so troubled when it was a burden any one of your friends would happily want?

“Okay. I’ll see you there,” you settle for a wave, walking out to leave. You rush with your bag on your back to your classroom, immersed in your lesson till the hour finishes up.

For the moments after class finishes, your mind is blank. You’re going over your homework in your head, packing your things and your eyes widen. The meeting. You almost forgot.

True to your words, you actually do end up running from the design building to the auditorium. Sprinting from your class to the auditorium proves to be a harder workout than you anticipated and your heart can’t stop racing.

Stepping inside the auditorium, you jump into the first empty seat you see at the entrance.

“Where is she?” you mumble under your breath. Your eyes shift around the room, looking for a familiar head of short black hair. Catching sight of Chae, you wave to her but she doesn’t notice you at all. Instead, she’s busy talking to a group of students all from your year.

Everyone’s sat together, cozy and comfortable in a conversation together. You can even see Namjoon in the row above Chae, chatting energetically. Your heart strangely pangs.

Sometimes, seeing everyone like this, everyone from your major and year together, made you feel more like an outsider than anything. At first, you’d chalked it up to be because of your obsession with studying and academics… but students better than you, students like Namjoon and Mina, all seemed to be doing fine.

In the end, you realized it isn’t anything to do with that. You feel like an outsider because you are one. You’ve tried your hardest to blend in, but the fact remains that you feel alone in the problems you have. You’ve kept your identity as the daughter of HN Architects a secret, you’ve kept your family pressures a secret… Now you’re alone in the burden of your struggles.

Sometimes, you’ve thought about opening up. But the thought terrifies you even more.

If you felt so alone while keeping the truth of your ambitions a secret… there’d be no telling what kind of way your friends would treat you after finding out.

“We’re lucky enough to have… here’s a representative from Canvas Corp… looking for fresh talent… Yongchan Architecture…” you’re hardly paying attention to the speakers on stage till you finally hear, “and most fortunately, the chairman of HN Architects!”

Your head shoots up so fast that it almost flies off. No fucking way.

Your father is smiling on the stage, wearing a crisp suit and greeting the architecture department heads. Without realizing it, your body cowers back into your seat as you see his eyes scan the auditorium. He must be looking for you - his daughter.

His daughter that not a single soul in this room knew was you.

Your heart goes into panic mode before you try to calm yourself down. Relax, you mutter repeatedly to yourself although it’s less effective than you thought it’d be.

Your eyes dance between your father on stage and your group of friends with Chae sitting seats away from you. Neither of them have noticed you.

Instead, your classmates are all watching your father with starstruck eyes. They’re staring at your father like he’s their idol.

Well, objectively, maybe he could be. After all, you admire your father for the very same reason every architecture student does - your father is a legend. His company has one of the best reputations in the country, which feeds your pride, and he’s nothing short of a hard-working, inspiring man.

Namjoon, in particular, is staring at your father like he can’t believe his eyes. It’s a look you’ve never seen from him before. Like he’s both nervous and thinks he’s in a dream. It’s almost endearing.

“To celebrate having the chairman of HN Architects with us today, we’ll have him say a few words!” Mr. Lim, the head of the architecture department, announces enthusiastically into the mic. He turns to your father, “do you mind?”

“Not at all!” your father grins, taking the mic before starting. “It’s my pleasure to be here today! In fact, seeing all of you reminds me of my own days as an architecture student…”

He trails off into a long speech, excitedly. You’ve been witness to every single one of your father’s inspirational speeches since the day you were born so you fight back a yawn. On the contrary, your classmates look like they’re hanging onto every single word.

As your father paces across the stage, he inches towards your side. You blink in panic, bending down but before you know it, it’s too late. His eyes sparkle with joy.

You almost worry he’s gonna wave at you mid-speech. But he doesn’t, simply shooting an overly friendly smile your way. You sneak a glance at your classmates and they’re all giving you a strange look - one that most definitely reads what the heck is he smiling at you for?

Meeting Chae’s eyes in particular, you give an awkward smile and shrug. Soon enough, your father turns to the side and you finally think you can breathe.

“That’s why I’d like to encourage you all to live up to your potential! The world is changing around you as you know it and as future architects, you can be a part of that,” your father enthusiastically continues. His eyes are on you again. “And this is what I tell my beautiful daughter everyday! She loves skylines, my dear _____, and she’s going to be a wonderful architect too!”

My life is officially over.

A little dramatic but that exact thought crosses your mind as you duck into your seat. You think you hear the collective gasp around the auditorium or maybe your ears are playing tricks on you.

No, it’s probably as bad you think it is. Your father’s called you out by name and exposed your identity that you worked so hard to conceal. Your life is quite literally over.

Oblivious to your misery, your father grins happily on stage. He returns the mic to Mr. Lim before stepping to the side. The rest of the assembly goes by without you realizing. You’re still numb to the fact of what just happened.

You risk a glance at your classmates, and in cliche movie fashion, they’re all staring at you with mouths gaping wide open. Every single one of them.

Your neck heats up and you quickly turn around. But curiosity gets the best of you a few minutes later, and you risk looking again.

They’re still staring at you in shock. Like they can’t believe their eyes.

Chae especially is looking at you with hurt flashing across her face. It squeezes at your heart and you feel overcome with guilt for lying to your friend for a year. You don’t dare to imagine what she’s thinking now.

Without realizing, your eyes travel over to Namjoon. Much to your surprise, he’s not looking at you. He’s the only one with his eyes looking ahead blankly, deep in thought.

You frown, evading everyone’s stares to focus on him. An unrecognizable emotion is written all over his face… is it realization? Regret? Embarrassment?

You can hardly tell. But for the first time, an uncomfortable feeling plunges in your stomach at the fact that Namjoon’s not looking at you.

“Dad!” you cry. “How could you do that?”

Your father smiles happily at the sight of you, the two of you standing outside the auditorium in a secluded, private spot. The torture, that was the assembly, has finally come to an end.

“What do you mean?” he answers in confusion. “Do you mean showing up here? Because I was invited by that Mr. Lim fellow, he-”

“Not that!” you whine, groaning into your palms. “I’m talking about saying I’m your daughter in front of the whole architecture department!”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, that? What did I do wrong?”

Your jaw drops. “Dad, are you being serious?”

He nods, clear puzzlement on his face.

“Don’t you remember? I specifically asked for you and Mom to make sure that it never gets out!” you say. “Now, you’ve told everyone I go to college with that I’m the daughter of the man behind HN Architects!”

He blinks for a few seconds. “Is that so wrong?” he almost pouts like a child. “I didn’t know it was such a problem.”

“Of course, it is! Why do you think I asked you not to tell anyone?”

“...I thought you were being modest.”

“Modest?!” you exclaim, before sighing. There’s no use berating your father. It’s no one’s fault but your own for not preparing better for this situation.

“Did you really not want anyone to find out?”

You nod weakly.

“Why not?”

“I… I can’t explain it. They’ll freak out,” you look down. You can’t imagine how much worse your stress is gonna get from now on - it isn’t enough that your own title of the daughter of HN Architects is choking you to death… now you’ll have to deal with every single one of your classmates doing the same thing.

Things will never be the same again. For every grade you get, it’ll be discussed as the grade of the HN Architects’ daughter. For every drawing or idea you’ll submit, it’ll be scrutinized as the work of a girl from privilege. The pressure would multiply infinitely.

“Oh dear, don’t be silly,” your father suddenly says, resting his hand on your head. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t realize it was so serious to you. But even if they know, it’s not an issue. You’re an excellent student and it’s only right they pay you the respect as the future CEO of HN Architects.”

You shoot your father a smile but your stomach drops. “I guess so, thanks,” you mumble, unable to explain to him that it’s exactly what he said that terrifies you.

For the rest of the day, you hide out off-campus in hopes to avoid facing reality.

“_____, I think you need to pay for the emotional shock you gave us,” Hobi laughs at the lunch table as soon as you arrive.

Hesitantly, you sit beside Chae who doesn’t share a word with you. Since yesterday, you haven’t even made eye contact with her, despite being her roommate.

“I think I almost spat out my water when I heard my daughter,” Mina jokes and the table echoes in laughter. You smile awkwardly.

“Yeah… it’s not really a big deal,” you shrug.

“Not a big deal?! Hello! We’re talking to the next HN Architects CEO right now!” another student pipes up.

“_____, forgive me for all I did wrong last semester,” Yuri playfully adds.

“I think we need to be cleaning the floor for her to walk on!”

These statements all fly around the table, exchanged with laughs and smiles. Part of you cowers in the attention, uncomfortable by such blatant recognition of your upbringing.

Another part of you wonders… will things be okay?

You take a careful look around the table of your classmates. Not a single one seems to wear a glare, all sharing in jokes and smiles. For the strangest reason… you feel at ease.

Chae suddenly stands up, with her tray. “I’m done eating. I’ll see you guys later.”

Instantly, you mimic her and chase behind her retreating figure. “Wait Chae-”

“I have class right now-”

Like a child, you jump in front of her to block her path. “Okay, please just hear me out,” you say, pouting. “I’m sorry.”

She sighs. “What are you sorry for? It’s not a big deal.”

“You must feel… annoyed, right?”

Chae blinks at you. “I’ll admit, I was irritated at first. You come from such privilege and I’ve unloaded so much crap on you sometimes about being scared about post-college life while you never had that… but, I’m not really mad about that. You can’t help who you are, right?”

You nod. “You’re still mad at me though, aren’t you? For hiding it?”

She takes a second before replying, “I just… you’re so unreachable sometimes, _____. After I found out, I kind of realized why you’re so stressed all the time and what you meant whenever you alluded to things about your pressures and all… I’m just annoyed you never shared that part of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

For the first time since yesterday, Chae cracks a smile. “Don’t be sorry. I just want you to be more open with me. You don’t need to feel like you need to hide your background… I would’ve tried to understand either way.”

Her words soothe you more than you can explain. Since entering your major, you haven’t once relied on the people around you for support that wasn’t academic. Now, you’re realizing your fatal flaw.

“I’ll try to be better,” you say with a nod. “Thank you for not being mad at me.”

She laughs. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry about me,” she says with a glance elsewhere. “You should check up on him. He’s been spooked since yesterday.”

You turn on your heel to see Namjoon, walking around with the same strange expression on his face from the assembly. For a brief second, your eyes meet but the second flashes, and he quickly looks away.

“Did you see that?!” you scoff. “He just ignored me!”

Chae smiles. “Wow, there really is a first for everything.”

“What’s with him?” you say, watching his awkward walk in your opposite direction. He keeps glancing in your direction, but once he sees you staring at him, he swiftly looks away. It’s a completely new side to him.

“I don’t know,” Chae shrugs. “He’s being weird. I thought he’d be running after you like always, but he’s resorted to this.”

You scoff again, unfamiliar with this Namjoon who runs away from you, rather than to you. You wonder what’s running through his mind, before pushing the thought away. He’s bound to come after you again after a few days.

The confidence with which you assumed Namjoon would be all over you again is faltering.

It’s been a full week since the assembly, and while life has seemingly gone back to normal for you (as normal as things can be)... Namjoon certainly has not.

In classes, he picks the furthest seat away on purpose. You even started to tease him by trying to sit in his front row with him, but instead, you found him in the back row - where he can’t even see.

His lunches seem to be perfectly timed to not clash with yours. All of a sudden, he’s no longer in the library either. All the places you’d easily find Namjoon hovering over you, he’s disappeared from.

“Does he think this is effective?!” you rant to Chae in your dorm room. “That by suddenly ignoring me, I’ll become obsessed with him?!”

Chae smiles at you knowingly. “I don’t know… if that was his plan to begin with, I’d say it’s pretty effective-”

“Shut up, Chae! I’m just saying this is all so stupid!” you scoff. “Once or twice is fine but he’s actively avoiding me! He saw me in the library yesterday and acted like he forgot a book to leave! We were in the library for god’s sake! What book did he forget that he couldn’t find there?!”

Chae giggles like the situation is laugh-worthy. “Maybe he’s just busy.”

“He made time during final exams last year to bother me. How much busier could he be than he was then?”

“Or maybe he doesn’t want to distract you.”

“It’s not that for sure. Whenever I’d tell him that he’s distracting me before, he wouldn’t care,” you mumble under your breath annoyedly. Chae continues to grin at your behavior, as if your reaction were amusing.

You don’t say it to her but you know very well why you’re annoyed beyond relief. It’s because you know it’s to do with finding out about HN Architects.

You groan. You expected your classmates to be weird around you, maybe even your professors… but Namjoon was the last person you thought would suddenly make a 180 after learning about your family.

That’s why it’s aggravating. Because it’s the one thing you didn’t think he’d care about.

A part of you fears he’s realized just how pathetic you are. After all, Namjoon probably knows how much more promising he is compared to you and now… he had to sit with the fact that you were the daughter of HN Architects.

“Why don’t you just approach him yourself?”

You’re momentarily stunned by Chae’s suggestion. You shoot her a dirty glare.

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna chase after Namjoon! He should approach me himself!”

Chae looks at you like you’re crazy. “You’re the one who wants him to talk to you!”

“Exactly! He should come to me like he always does.”

A laugh escapes Chae’s lips. “Oh, _____… you don’t even realize it, do you?”

You cock a brow before shaking your head. “I don’t have time for your indirect dialogue. I’m just saying that if Namjoon doesn’t come to me and talk this out soon, I’m gonna have to do something very crazy.”

Chae’s eyes flicker with amusement. “Oh? And what’s that?”

You grimace, as if even saying it brings you humiliation. “I’m gonna go talk to him first.”

Chae bursts out laughing, despite your solemn expression. You brush her off, spending the rest of the night on your design homework but secretly planning on wringing Namjoon’s throat if he doesn’t go back to normal soon.

By now, you’re sure Namjoon can feel the daggers you’re shooting into his back.

He’s even risked turning back a few times, to see who’s glaring at him. But as soon as your eyes meet, his head spins around as if it were all in your head. He focuses on the professor teaching ahead of him, taking notes diligently.

Beside you, Chae says with a nudge, “so are you gonna do that very crazy thing you were planning?”

You ignore her for the sake of gritting your teeth. Usually, you have no trouble focusing in classes. It’s all because of this wretched situation that you’re so off-game.

As soon as the professor wraps up his powerpoint, you’re faster than anyone else in the class at packing up your things and zooming out the door. You don’t even bid Chae goodbye.

You tap your foot impatiently, staring directly at your target.

Namjoon… try and ignore me now.

Hooking his bag over his shoulder, Namjoon comes to the door of the classroom before stopping his tracks. Aha, you smile pleased.

“Ah, I just forgot… to talk about my assignment with Mr. Choi,” he mutters out loud to no one in particular. The acting is so terrible that you don’t even have to think about it to know he’s intending it for you to hear.

You march up to him. “No, you don’t,” you scoff and when he looks up at the ceiling, you jump like an infant calling for attention. “Namjoon, if you value your life, you’re gonna drop this act right now,” you say in a menacing voice.

Immediately, he gulps and looks down at you. His height towers over yours but you smile, knowing you’ve gained the upper hand here. He’s looking at you just as he did before - completely enamoured.

You say nothing but give a deadly gesture to follow you. He obeys without complaint.

When you two are finally in a spot you deem private enough, you raise your chin and look at him happily. Under your gaze, he looks down uncomfortably.

“So you want me to say it or will you explain what the hell is going on?”

He blinks. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, _____.”

Your blood boils. Now, he wants to feign ignorance. “You’re joking,” you deadpan.

He looks at you innocently and shakes his head. You sigh, blinking in confusion.

This whole situation is a first. True to your words, you’ve never actually… had to do anything more than bat an eye to know Namjoon would come to you. You don’t know the words to even ask what’s wrong.

“_____,” he says in a low voice. You glance up at him, completely losing your train of thought. The sight of him has never registered you disorientated before. But now, you can’t help but trace your eyes over his dimples and sparkling eyes.

You scoff at yourself. You must’ve lost your mind temporarily. “You know what I’m talking about!”

He shakes his head so you continue, “you used to always come to the library at my timings and sit on my lunch table.”

“Oh,” he nods. “That’s because I wanted to sleep in more so I changed my schedule around a bit.”

You blink at his explanation. “You sat at the back of the class when I came to the front row-”

“I just wanted to see what it’s like to sit there. Turns out, it sucks,” he pauses when you don’t reply. “_____?”

You frown, part confused and part innocently. “I just mean… why aren’t you following me anymore?”

The words are out of your mouth before you can help it and your eyes widen in humiliation. That isn’t the way you wanted to ask the question.

Namjoon, instead, is amused. He smirks ever so slightly, before cocking his brow and asking, “Are you asking me why I don’t chase you around anymore?”

His newfound confidence almost makes you lose your footing. This is Namjoon - the nerdy guy who’d come to you. He can’t have this effect on you.

You scoff, faking an assured smile. “Are you denying that you chased me around?”

He blinks. “I mean-”

“Surely, you accept the fact that you did chase me around for a whole year,” you say with a smile playing on your lips. Of course, between the two of you, you both know very well of Namjoon’s infatuation with you. He’s danced around those feelings for both of your comedy’s sake… but this time, you won’t let that slide.

He looks at you, tongue poking in his cheek. “Fine. I do chase you around.”

You almost smile with victory but you stop yourself. Before you can speak, he continues.

“But I won’t anymore. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me,” he says sincerely, seemingly ready on his toes to walk away. Your fingers wrap around his wrist without realizing.

“Wait!” you frown displeased. He’s glancing down at where your touch meets his hand and you instantly let go. “This makes no sense.”

He blinks, confused. “What do you… isn’t this what you’ve wanted?”

“You can’t just change your mind like that!” you argue, a strange desperation cutting into your voice. “You can’t make people get used to you and do that!”

Much to your surprise, he wears a small smile. “I didn’t think it’d bother you so much.”

“I can’t stand you,” you groan. “You chase me around, then you find out one tiny fact about my family and now, you think you’re so much better than me to come after me!” you yell, your heart hammering against your chest. You sound like a child, you know as much but… suddenly around him, all logic’s been thrown out your brain.

“_____,” he says in a breath, a glint in his eye that reads surprise and amusement. His dimples are poking out and you wonder what it’d be like to affectionately poke into one. “Do you… did you like when I would come to you?”

There’s no self-preserving answer to this, one that can save both your dignity and pride. You know what you should say to his question, but nerves are prickling under your skin.

It isn’t the nerves you feel before submitting a drawing or entering an exam, but a whole new uncharted territory of nerves. Everything about this conversation is uncharted territory.

“_____, do you…” he starts a question, before nervously brushing the nape of his neck. He looks shy to even ask but after a moment, he looks at you like a child with candy and says, “do you like me?”

Your heart’s in your stomach. Immediately, you laugh, “no! No! Why would I?! Are you crazy?! Why would I ever like-”

“I don’t know,” he blinks innocently, but the stare he holds on you seems suddenly intimate. “That’s what I’m thinking. Why would you ever care about why I stopped chasing after you, if you don’t like me?”

His cocky grin annoys you. You shoot him a deathly look. “Don’t get too confident with me, Joon,” you say although you’re fumbling with words. “I still remember when you couldn’t even look me in the eye.”

He takes a step closer, holding your stare with no qualms. Your heart speeds up again, like you’ve been running.

“_____,” he says softly with a victorious smile. “You like me, don’t you?”

“I’m not answering your stupid question. First, you explain to me why the hell you think you can treat me the way you have the last week-”

“Because I thought you didn’t like me back,” he answers smoothly. “You’re the daughter of HN Architects and I’ve been wasting your time all year long. I’ve always felt intimidated by you… but now, I realized I really wasn’t worth your time.”

You blink with a frown. “Namjoon-”

“I feel really embarrassed, _____… If I ever wanted to work at HN Architects, I wouldn’t even be able to show my face knowing the way I’ve bothered you-”

“You’ve never bothered me.”

“Huh?”

Your cheeks flush and you suddenly become very aware of the words that escaped your lips. You cast a hesitant glance at Namjoon and you can’t help it. Suddenly, everything feels a lot clearer.

“You know, you’re the kind of architect my father dreams about,” you find yourself saying. “You’re the kind of student someone like me should be. It all comes natural to you. I love buildings but everything I do, it’s just part of who you are… that’s why I acted like you bothered me.”

He’s at a loss for words before muttering, “_____…”

“All I ever think about is trying to fit the ideal I know I have to be and it all comes easy for you. You feel embarrassed in front of me…” you laugh with a scoff. “How do you think I feel, needing your help?”

“I never wanted to compete with you,” he says. “I just wanted to be by your side. I really wasn’t helping you for anything apart from looking for an excuse to be near you.”

There it is… the fluttering feeling.

The truth is, you’ve known all this time too. You’ve known that there was never any ulterior motive, just your cynical mind trying to conjure excuses.

You almost hate yourself at this moment. Your insecurity over your work has warped your thoughts so much that you convinced yourself that… that you feel nothing but annoyance for Namjoon.

“_____,” he starts. His hand hesitantly reaches up, stopping multiple times on its way before finally brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“I think it goes without saying but in my eyes, you’re the smartest person in our major and every time I’m with you, I don’t even care if you reject me or look for an excuse to go away,” he says. “You don’t even realize the way I see you.”

Your eyes sting and you’re not sure if it’s because his words move you or you’ve just forgotten to blink for a long while. “You’re so corny.”

He laughs. “Well, someone needs to tell you you’re doing a good job because I can tell you’re not telling yourself,” he says before sheepishly adding, “and I thought we were exchanging what we like about each other.”

“Who said I like you?”

He grins, ruffling your hair despite the scowl you give him. You say nothing but then give a smile. You didn’t expect today to feel so good… but somehow, that insecurity that plagues your mind at all hours of the day disappears for a while.

All you can think about is wanting this feeling to last with him. Without warning, you reach to grab Namjoon’s wrist to walk out into the open garden of the campus. In front of your sight, there’s a skyline of buildings decorating the city.

“Do you still stand by your statement that that building is the ugliest?”

You grin. “It’s literally hideous, Joon. I can’t believe you’re the top of our class but think those colors look nice together.”

He gives a warm laugh, unable to disguise his happiness at the way you call him endearingly. Your eyes go back and forth between the skyline and Namjoon beside you before deciding that while buildings are your first true love… there’s something even more beautiful about the boy next to you.

hehe so excited to write on this blog if u read till the end jus know u have all my love

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readingaway · 3 years

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Danielle Babbles About Books - Kind of a Big Deal by Shannon Hale

Rating: 4.25/5 stars

Content warnings: This sits somewhere between adult and young adult. I’ll give it a 13+ because anyone younger probably wouldn’t be able to relate to the character’s experiences. Absent parents, transphobia and fantasy violence are present.

Note: I tried to tone down the dragging other reviewers, but I’m still so annoyed.

Note 2: I’m trying to get back on reviews, it’s been like 8 months now.

Review: I read through several of the pre-reviews before deciding to put this on my TBR. From the fact that they were overwhelmingly negative, I came in worried that this would be a mess of a story with no point, poor characterization, and poor execution. That is not the case and I’m extremely irritated that so many reviewers gave this 1-2 star ratings because they can’t handle a main character who isn’t the milquetoast, waifish, wannabe underdog they seem to want. Or is it the perfectly perfect overachiever they’re looking for? The prodigy? The one with hidden talents who magically wins The Thing on her first try? Instead the main character has *big gasp* flaws! She’s still a teenager who’s mentally stuck in high school (I mean, she barely left) because she was The Popular Girl (oh dear, that’s probably where Hale went “wrong;” the popular girl must always be a caricature for the audience to hate,) whose life didn’t go the way she’d expected it to and at the beginning of the book she’s unable to humble herself, figure anything out, etc. Which is, can you guess? The point. (Because I said so.) That’s the challenge, that’s the story. It’s figuring out what to do with oneself when it turns out you’re not as special as you thought. I just. I gotta take a second...

So what I was expecting from this book - an annoying main character, a directionless plot that lacks development - was wrong. What the book is, is indulgent and unabashedly enthusiastic about things that are still considered “cringy”. This includes enjoying “genre” literature (all of it “women’s” lit too, a greater sin) (aka “low” literature, *pause to glare at my mfa director*) and enjoying - worse, trying to make a break in - musical theater (also associated with women). And then Josie, the MC, is a nanny and her job, while demanding, isn’t torture. Or sexy. Then there’s the genre-blending with urban fantasy. At first it’s just one of those things that can show up in literary fiction, but at the end *Mild Spoiler* there’s a full, kind of dark, and supernatural explanation for what’s happening. I was a bit thrown, thinking this would be more mundane, or left a mystery like other books and films with similar phenomenons. Not so!

And aside from being indulgent and a surprising with that climax, it was neatly-structured, emotional, and the writing was smooth. I liked the pacing and the refusal to shy away from “cringe.” Overall, I had a really fun time with this and it was the perfect cap on a rough semester.

End note: It’s not that people aren’t allowed to have their own taste, but what I see when I go into the goodreads page is ridiculous.

#kind of a big deal #shannon hale #danielle babbles about books #book reviews #my reviews #booklr

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writing-for-me-at-this-point · 3 years

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There’s a whole discourse on the travelers ages but I believe they’re at least 17-19

The age ranges for the Knights of favonius (Amber, Albedo, Kaeya, Lisa, Noelle, and Jean) is 18-25. Klee looks between 6-10.

Diluc is in his early twenties

Venti and Zhongli is obviously hundreds of years old with Zhongli being older

Childe is the third child out of 4 kids so maybe 19 or 20 at most

Okay let's do this.

Age HCs under the cut!

Diluc - 24 years old, just holds the vibe, has a bit of a baby face.

Kaeya - 21 years old, he's younger than Diluc and Jean but not to the point where the age gap shows, probably has always looked older than he is.

Jean - 23 years old, but is just a few months younger than Diluc, was a preteen when Barbra was born.

Lisa - 26 years old, the oldest and everyone knows it, she calls everyone nicknames like "cutie", and "sweetie" to assert her age dominance.

Amber - 19 years old, still hopeful and will always be young at heart, still has a bit of a baby face.

Barbra - 16 years old, has this air of innocence but has seen some things, uses "girly" things to probably ground herself and connect to her childhood.

Razor - 17 years old, probably gonna hit a final or one of his final growth spurts, looks young and fresh due to being in the wild.

Klee - 6 years old, seems to understand more than a normal child would, but that's just cause no one baby talked to her and just spoke to her normally.

Bennett - 17 years old, maybe 18, like Amber in the fact he's got a baby face and is young at heart.

Noelle - 23 years old, looks older than she is, always seemed to be more "mature" than the others in her age group.

Fischl - 19 years old, going through her "finding myself" phase and does so openly, she's living her best life.

Sucrose - 20 years old, looks her age, but probably gets babied for her ears ;^;

Mona - 21 years old, everyone knows it, defiantly is the "was a child prodigy and made it her entire identity and reason to overachieve"

Diona - 19 years old, handles a bar and the people that enter it, doesn't like alcohol though and seems to dispise it entirely.

Albedo - 19 years old, probably confused for older than he is, due to his aura.

Beidou - 28 years old, confident, definitely can't wait to hit 30 and call herself a "fine lady aged like wine" or some shit like that.

Ningguang - 25 years old, gonna hit 26 soon, living her best life. Probably was confused for older at times, but looks her age.

Xiangling - 19 years old, young and hopeful for the world, but has this intensity that can go too far.

Xingqiu - 17 years old, but mentally 65, though his vibe brings it down to like 23. No clue where I am going with his.

Chongyun - 17 years old, chill ( heh ), and probably has a baby face. "Wait till I hit my glow up" headers.

Qiqi - Physically, she's 5 or 6.

Keqing - 22 years old, looks her age, probably lies and says she's older at times.

Xinyan - 20 years old, vibing, up and coming. Probably has a fear of growing up because she's been told life ends at 30 when that isn't true.

Tartaglia - 20 years old, he's got two younger siblings and one or two older ones from some things I've read, and he just acts like he's a middle child. So I'm putting him at 20.

Travelers/Lumine/Aether - 19 years old, there ain't no way in hell they're like 16 with all the shit they gotta do. And they may be like 500+ from some theories at this point. But physically 19.

#answered #queen.ans #genshin impact #genshin impact hcs

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mythgirlimagines · 3 years

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Monitoring your every move, ready to strike when least expected, is this week’s talent swap! Introducing Myth, the Former Ultimate Chess Player!

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BACKSTORY AND TALENT

Having an overly analytical mindset ever since she was a child, Myth solved the puzzles she was given quickly and burned through mental stimulation toys like it was nothing. It really put a dent in her parents’ wallet, and they needed to find some way to entertain her daughter before they become flat broke. One day, when Myth and her parents visited the toy store to find a new toy for her, Myth became enticed by the board games section, particularly a chessboard, which her parents managed to buy. Myth picked up on the rules of chess very quickly, and dominated both her parents and older sisters in the game. Eventually Myth signed up for chess clubs and defeated each and everyone of the other participants, and in turn, managed to reach grandmaster rank. One tournament, Myth decided to wear a chess themed dress to throw opponents off and make them underestimate her, before completely decimating them. She is still wearing the dress to this day.

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RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Freelance Artist

Having garnered fame on the internet for her realistic drawings of animal corpses and dinosaur bones, Wyre has been Myth’s friend ever since childhood. In fact, Wyre was the one who came up with the original design for Myth’s dress. Wyre regularly attends Myth’s chess tournaments as a bodyguard of sorts, with Wyre’s intimidating glare and feral personality scaring anyone who decides to toy with their little friend. While Wyre is a great friend and everything, Myth is heavily concerned with her friend’s work schedule and the toll it has on their mental health and fortitude.

Outfit: A black ski cap with a skull pin on the front, a black leather vest with a white dragon design on the back over a brown hoodie with bone designs on the sleeves, black fingerless gloves with skull designs, black shorts, socks, shoes, glasses and piercings from original designs.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Grave Digger

Being the daughter of a mortician and a funeral planner, Scar has been interacting with the dead ever since she was a little girl, and is currently working in the funeral home as a grave digger. Being ostracized for both her interest in the dead and her middle school persona, (aka. Death’s Messenger) Scar tried her best to shake the facade, but she can’t help but fall back on that facade. Scar seems to be fully convinced that Myth is some sort of esper, for she managed to uncover her true personality within the first couple minutes of meeting her. ”The Pawn’s Empress” is one of Death’s Messenger’s biggest foes yet.

Outfit: Original outfit but with dirt stained boots and gloves and her funeral home’s logo on the back of her jacket.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Boy Scout

Having collected all of his scout troupe’s merit badges in record time, Fusion currently works on educating younger scouts in getting merit badges and even teaches his fellow con-mates the art of the boy scout. Ever since coming to the Kibo-Con, Fusion has established leadership amongst the younger Ultimates, a bit like a father to the group, and gives them seminars on scouting skills. Myth’s natural genius made her ace Fusion’s seminars with ease. Fusion’s happiness at showing off his knowledge and scouting skills seems to imply a less-than-stellar self-confidence/an inferiority complex.

Outfit: A green visor, a tanned cargo jacket with badges sewn in, bandages wrapped around his hands, a green sash with badges crowded on it, glasses, pants and shoes from original design.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Private Investigator

Despite her lackadaisical and sarcastic attitude off of the job, you would be hard-pressed to find a more capable private investigator. Fusion II claims that she went for a private investigator as her job as opposed to a detective, because she can turn down cases she deems too easy or not worth her time. But Myth eventually realized that underneath Fusion II’s memey, rebellious, and sarcastic demeanor, Fusion II is secretly very insecure about her detective skills, especially after getting an innocent man convicted once. Fusion II is currently working to uncover the mystery that is Myth.

Outfit: A light blue fedora with a black band and a red rose, a light blue trench coat over a white shirt and a red necktie, a long blue skirt, black and white laced boots, sunglasses from original design.

Just Anon, Ultimate Toymaker

Famous for his expertly-crafted stuffed rabbits, Janon usually spends all of his time either sleeping or insulting people. Within the first few minutes of meeting Janon, Myth has already uncovered a fear of failure, a perfectionist attitude when it comes to making toys and a soft spot for children, particularly the two Jr. Ultimates that are attending the Kibo-Con with him. Janon is sick and even more tired of Myth constantly exposing him like this. Janon is currently trying to make a voodoo doll of Myth to make her suffer, as revenge for constantly exposing him and making him seem like less of a jerk.

Outfit: A lazily buttoned up shirt, an untied red tie, a tool belt, a face mask with a “w” mouth and blushy cheeks, pants, boots and hoodie from original design.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Seamstress

Famous for being the scion of the ”Spectacular Threads” company, Sparkle is famous for her glittery and elaborate hand-crafted formal wear. While Wyre designed the original design of Myth’s dress, Sparkle was the girl Wyre sent the design to, to get it created, which means Myth and Sparkle go further back than one would expect. Myth knew Sparkle before they both reinvented themselves with new flamboyant personalities, and when Sparkle was just a shy magical girl and theater fanatic. Even as an adult, Myth can still see Sparkle is still the same nerd she was when Myth first met her, deep down.

Outfit: Same outfit from her original design, but with sewing supplies attached to her clothes.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Ghost Hunter, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Police Officer

Despite their two different talents, Egg and Wet Sock have many things in common, with the biggest similarity between the two being their appearance, their uniforms, and above all, their penchant for cursed comments. Even Myth‘s analytical attitude is no match for the nonsensical and violently cursed comments of the freak duo. It’s very clear that years of dealing with violent criminals and supernatural horrors would take a toll on anybody’s psyche. Even Myth doesn’t want to think about what horrors the two have witnessed within their careers that twisted their minds to such cursed degrees.

Outfits: Gakurans, police caps, white gloves and a golden badge. Egg has a purple uniform, and Wet Sock has a black uniform, glasses from original design.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Tutor

Despite their age, Curious has college-level academic prowess and uses that knowledge to help tutor students of all ages, and can turn underachievers into overachievers with their infinite patience and flawless study strategies. It didn‘t take much time for Myth to realize one of the main flaws of Curious: their passiveness and willingness to let people walk all over and take advantage them. Myth would often organize tea parties disguised as study sessions to talk to Curious more, for they are basically an open book, despite what their vocal and facial range would suggest.

Outfit: Hair pulled into a small ponytail, fake glasses, a green vest over a white button up shirt, tie, pants and shoes from original design.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Lifeguard

Originally getting the job purely for some extra pocket money, Nerd quickly rose through the ranks and quickly became an emergency technician for beaches. Nerd’s good looks were seen as both a blessing and a curse by him, for many admirers purposefully drowned themselves, just so Nerd can give them mouth-to-mouth. This, along with poor pay in the early parts of his career, lead to his hostile attitude towards everybody, particularly people with a crush on him or people he has a crush on. Myth told Nerd the truth, and got thrown into the nearest body of water by him, and he didn’t save her.

Outfit: A tight grey muscle shirt, red swim trunks with black stripes on each side, red flip-flops.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Competitive Eater

Despite Eldritch’s small size, Eldritch has an appetite rivaled only by Fusion’s. Eldritch originally entered the competition as a poison tester, in order to prevent the participants from being sabotaged and perhaps murdered, but Eldritch managed to dominate the competitions. Eldritch has now participated in 255 eating competitions all across the country, and even outside of the country. Eldritch seems to be the first person to look past Myth’s little cutesy facade, and seems to want to avoid Myth at all costs, which makes it difficult for Myth to get a read on him.

Outfit: A purple jersey with “Poison Tester” on the front in yellow letters, dark grey cargo shorts, white socks, black and yellow sneakers.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Street Artist

Dream is famous for her paintings of rainbow clouds on random buildings and roads. Despite Dream’s rough life on the street, somehow she remains as bright and cheerful as her infamous murals. After being busted by the police for her vandalism, Dream got accepted by the Hope’s Peak scouts, and got to get out of jail, in exchange for food and shelter at her Hope’s Peak dorm room. You will bet that Dream would accept the offer full-heartedly. Myth totally didn’t expect someone as cheerful as Dream to have one of the roughest pre-con lives, but Myth now wants to adopt Dream.

Outfit: Wild hair, a denim jacket stained with paint over a pink shirt, black paint-stained boots, skirt and shorts from original design.

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Child Prodigy

Having one of the highest IQs for a child her age, Iris already graduated college with several degrees, mostly in science. Iris’s determined attitude and love for learning made many universities consider her for their adorable mascot. While everyone else views Iris as a clumsy and dorky optimist who never gives up when it comes to her work, Myth knows the truth behind Iris. Because of her status as a child prodigy, lots of pressure was put upon her, which only served to arouse her already existing anxiety. From that point onwards, Iris and Myth gather for weekly chess games.

Outfit: A dark blue sweater over a white sailor uniform with a red tie and skirt, grey stockings, blue Mary Janes, glasses from original design.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Couples Dancer

Growing up in a high-class family that is known for their equally high-class masquerade balls, Purple’s skills on the ballroom dancing floor are unparalleled. Unfortunately off of the dance floor and deprived of her masquerade costume, Purple is superbly timid, regularly staying in her room, until Hope’s Peak accepted her. Purple’s vocabulary is about as elaborate and old-fashioned as her family’s masquerade balls. Luckily Myth is smart enough to understand her vocabulary. Myth is currently working on giving Purple confidence lessons, knowing that it could help her find her chosen one.

Outfit; Mid-back length hair, a mask that is black on the left and white on the right, a black sunhat, a matching black dress, black gloves, purple heels.

This series revolves around this enigmatic chess champion exposing people for their emotional problems, while some people (read: Scar and Fusion II) try to find out the secret behind her.

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PERSONALITY

The best way to describe Chess!Myth would be a more benign version of Celestia, right down to the fashion. She is very intelligent and analytical, which is how she discovered chess in the first place. Myth gets easily bored and needs constant mental stimulation, usually by competing with chess champions or buy simply kicking back and watching people interact. People are unpredictable creatures, after all. But perhaps the most prominent trait about her would probably be her ability to read people like a book. It’s very hard to lie to her face, for she will expose your lies to YOUR face. This helps a lot in chess, but this also makes her a very empathetic and kind-hearted individual.

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APPEARANCE

Myth wears her purple-dyed hair into twintails with a black and white scrunchie in each, and wears a black crown with red gems embedded into and on it. Myth wears an entirely black and white dress with asymmetrically-colored sleeves and dress tails. On her nails is black polish on her left hand and white polish on her right hand.

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I hope you like this version of you, Myth! Let me know what you think! See you soon, kiddos!

-Fusion Anon

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Two things! One, love this!!! Two, when you said “Celestia” I automatically thought of the MLP:FIM character XD I’m so used to calling Celestia Celeste, lol

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andmaybegayer · 4 years

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Watched Rebuild of Evangelion 3 now so hoo boy what the hell was that.

Alright I’m writing this before reading anything anyone else wrote about the Rebuilds so that I don’t copy anyone because I have had a Moment thinking about this.

It’s not... good? on it’s own? these movies don’t stand on their own. Well, the first one does but that’s because it’s a retelling of the first few episodes of the original series cut down for time and with a bigger budget. But the other two, just, aren’t anything.

When I was trying to think of how to write this I thought “these movies are not intended to be viewed alone, but in comparison to the original series” and I think that’s true but it also sounds like the thing an insane person would say so I didn’t WANT to say it but it’s true.

2.22 is just Evangelion minus any of the interesting parts. it’s Evangelion written by this guy.

Like, if you read this post, I didn’t really mention the story. I spoke about the sensory quality of the show, the music, the animation, the new character who exists. That’s because there isn’t anything else to talk about in 2.22.

Nothing... happens... in it? Like, you get this new character, Mari Illustrious, but I don’t think you ever hear her name other than her answering her phone, and that is a tiny moment. You never see her meet any other characters and as far as I can tell her entire personality is “good at robots, guns, and throwing things to asuka when she needs them”, I don’t think she’s ever even tangentially involved in any personal conflicts. Given how deeply the original series cares about the motivations of each individual character, it’s weird to bring in this weird new girl who appears to exists solely to give the anime character model makers another statue to produce.

Asuka and Rei both have a crush on Shinji, which is out of nowhere and doesn’t go anywhere. It happens and then the story goes elsewhere and it’s basically never explored again. There’s none of the usual post-fight dialogue and bargaining that all the characters have with each other, just, here’s some cool robot fights. Have fun. You like that, right?

Asuka’s character starts off promising! She’s an overachiever prodigy who likes to throw her weight around and who thinks she doesn’t need anyone else, except then she finds out she likes having friends! Except this also doesn’t go anywhere. It just kinda gets disregarded because she’s swapped in for Suzuhara during the test that goes bad so she’s injured and offscreen for the rest of the movie. Her role is filled by Mari who once again does almost nothing other than Being Good At Robots.

The movie spends just, so much time on random shit. There’s a 10 minute sequence where they go to an aquarium and it’s just worldbuilding! Evangelion was never about worldbuilding and this worldbuilding doesn’t pay off in any way! It’s just, like, oh yeah, all ocean life is dead, we brought some back, but they have to stay here. The ocean used to be blue. Isn’t that interesting, to you, person watching? Same with the fights. Long fight sequences were always a part of Evangelion that was fun to watch but they were not actually important.

I think... this is supposed to be like, what would happen if all the people who complained about the end of the series, and who think that evangelion is too impenetrable, got what they wanted. It’s just a boring ordinary anime, with big action scenes and cute girls who have crushes on the shitty main dude.

I don’t remember it for certain but I think that Evangelion was about two things: 1) depression, and 2) opposing generic anime tropes. Getting in the big robot doesn’t solve your problems, it’s just running away from them. Asuka is a tsundere, but you shouldn’t be trying to date that girl, she needs serious help. Rei isn’t a beautiful blank slate for you to mould however you want, she’s got shit she needs to work through and trying to date her isn’t going to help either of you.

It seems like 2.22 is just Evangelion if it leaned into the trope that fights are cool and girls are there for you to fuck, hence the brief love triangle around Shinji/Rei/Asuka. It would also explain Mari, who appears to be from an entirely different universe where 14 year olds actually like piloting giant robots with the weight of the world on their backs. You need the context of the original show to understand why this is so weird. It lacks any of the meat that would make watching this alone worthwhile.

And then you get to 3.33. Look. I get that some people probably liked 3.33. I understand. But 3.33 is like, three different things simultaneously and I don’t know which part you liked because they aren’t all good.

Now, there are good parts. But I think they only make sense in the context of the original show. Everyone is constantly telling Shijni what to do: pilot the evangelion! don’t pilot the evangelion! Like this is the whole thrust of the series. Do you do the big thing that lets you run from your problems, or do you do the small hard work that is actually becoming a better person. The first one is very appealing if you’re afraid of the hard work of becoming a better person, so you have to grow up before you can do it, you have to accept that sometimes you have to do hard things to get what you want. But if you’ve only seen the Rebuilds, then you have no context for what the hard thing looks like. Everyone has done nothing but take the easy route of flying around in big robots shooting at aliens. You have to compare it to the end of the series, where Shinji thinks long and hard about what he needs to do to actually be happy in this world, and decides that he actually can improve himself for the better.

You spend 10 minutes at the beginning with Asuka recovering a McGuffin from space while backed up by Mari who appears to communicate entirely in sassy quips. Then we watch for another 10 minutes as they make a flying boat. The only really important narrative information conveyed in these 20 minutes is that it’s 14 years later, and that Shinji has been stuck in space all this time. Almost none of your points of reference survive this time skip, so we now have to establish a whole new pecking order and set of characters for this movie.

In 3.33, he does none of that. He instead bullheadedly fixates on piloting the Evangelion as the way to solve all his problems, and as a result causes an even greater disaster. This is Shinji if he didn’t learn anything from his experiences. This is about what happens when you don’t improve yourself. It seems to suddenly snap back around to the message of the original series, that you need to connect with other people and sort yourself out, not hide away and perform great feats to appear to progress, but it’s framed so weirdly that I can’t figure out /why/ you would go through all of this just to tell this story.

I’m not sure what the message is. It’s not sufficiently different from the original to claim a new message, but it doesn’t seem to have any message if you disregard the original.

I’m just baffled by it. It’s not the same, it’s not telling the same story. This feels cautionary, this is what not to do, but it’s also not different. The story is not distinct from the series. It still relies on the series to give it meaning. This is a series for people who watched evangelion, but I’m not sure why you would watch it. Is it for people who watched evangelion, and didn’t like it? Is it supposed to be like, what would happen if the entire series was made in the style of The End of Evangelion? I’m not sure. I’m going to go read some other people’s writing on this now, and hopefully that will clarify it.

#nge #neon genesis evangelion #rebuild of evangelion

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davidcameron · 3 years

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David Cameron is in his shed-cum-home-office, situated right down the far end of his beautifully manicured lawn, ensconced among blue verbena and, further back, high puffy fronds of pampas grass. David Cameron is working on an article which, he hopes, will serve to promote his China Investment Fund. The Fund of late has been as mercurial as his beloved Villa back four, as vaporous as Matthew Cash, as vaporous (can’t think of another word for it) as Tyrone Mings getting forward, tracking back, scoring, conceding. The China Fund is like the Villa itself, sometimes an overachieving prodigy in a sea of bigboys, at other times like a set of Primark sweats in a sea of figure-hugging Y3 drip, David Cameron thinks. For all its successes - and there have bloody well been some, let’s not talk shit - the big difference is that the Villa still have Cash, Targett and Steer, whereas the China Fund is still struggling to break even, which basically - in pure financial terms - means that David Cameron is losing money on it every month; no cash, no targets and no steer, if you see what he did there. None of this is in the article, though, which has to be so boring and flat that nobody will read beyond the headline which, whatever it says, will include the words ‘David Cameron’ and ‘China Fund’ and that’s the point. David Cameron thinks Matt Targett, about his movement on and off the ball, while composing - effortlessly composing - a paragraph about steel prices as uncommunicative as an armadillo curled in its shell.

Having completed two more silent, indifferent paragraphs, David Cameron settles back in his chair and looks out of the window, which faces north, faces his house, which is bathed in afternoon sunlight. He can see his wife in the kitchen, pacing up and down, talking on her phone. He half raises his hand and catches her eye, she looks directly at him without expression before turning away again, and he lowers the hand, purses his lips in a manner he has seen described as ‘duck face’, favoured by young women seeking… seeking what? on social media, doing this with their lips, taking their own picture and… and… and…? David Cameron almost loses his train of thought, thinking about the Instagram models he follows on an anon account (davcam_incognito), but then remembers, picks up his phone with the same hand and unlocks it. His plan is to call his wife’s phone such that her current conversation will be interrupted by the incoming call noise, an obnoxious act which he relishes for its obnoxiousness, for its brazenness, something that, he thinks, were mobile phones around at the time, he would have been doing all the ruddy time when he was up at Oxford, oh yes. David Cameron is scrolling through his contacts, half an eye on the kitchen window, at which his wife, still deep in whatever chat she’s having that’s sooo important, still paces, searching for her number on the list when rampaging up and down the lawn, so replete with gusto, with life, with effervescence, come two dogs flinging themselves at each other, rolling and carousing. David Cameron half rises from his seat, the phone forgotten in his hand. A medley of thoughts runs through his head. If he has told that effing gardener once he has told him a billion times to block up all the gaps in the hedge; the dogs might foul his herbaceous borders, and what abjection of salad would contain a once-befouled clump of parsley?; how much do dogs dig?; to what circumference does the type of fear that dogs can smell radiate? But roiling with the most turbulence in his head is the thought: How the hell am I going to get back to the house while those dogs are there? Now, of course, David Cameron’s shed-cum-home-office is the size, or twice or three times the size (don’t know, never been in one) of a couple of decent starter flats, with all the conveniences (snicker bars, doctor peppers, toilet, bergamot handwash) that one might need in a pinch, but, thinks David Cameron, I don’t want… I do not want to be in a pinch. Why should I be in a pinch? Should I want something, why oughtn’t I to have it? What if there is mange on those dogs? What if they dig under the foundation of this shed? What do dogs want?

David Cameron turns away from the window and tries to centre himself by looking at the framed poster from the 2012 film ‘Red Lights’ with Robert De Niro, Sigourney Weaver and Cillian Murphy, but his mind’s eye can only picture a path beset by dogs in various states of rage and hunger, dogs that wheedle and grind their teeth, that are starving, that have nothing. Where are their owners? What happened to all these dogs? How many years of neglect caused their fur to mange, their ribs to show through their lank fur, their teeth to grey and yellow?

David Cameron takes a deep breath. He pulls himself together. He can buy parsley, dig over the herbaceous borders, perhaps replace them with something better: a deep orange Japanese Acer. Any hole can be filled in by the gardener and smoothed over such that it would be as if it were never there. All he need do is contact his wife and have her stand by the kitchen window, her phone at the ready in case of emergency, and he will leave his shed, make himself big like a goalkeeper, like Martinez facing down a penalty, whoop in a low voice, windmill his arms, keep his head down and make a run down the manicured lawn towards the back door at such a pace that the dogs are either frightened or bamboozled, or some combination of the two - what goes on in the dogs’ heads is immaterial as long as they stay away from him - and then the whole incident (barring finding out to whom these dogs belong and making a stern complaint to the neighbourhood association about their negligence) can be forgotten. David Cameron turns to the window, his course of action determined. But he is again put off his stride. The two dogs have stopped in their tracks and are looking fixedly at something off to their left. David Cameron’s wife, too, is gazing out of the kitchen window, at the same point in space. David Cameron cranes his neck, scans the entirety of the garden with his eyes, scans up and down with his eyeballs, but whatever they are seeing, the dogs and his wife, he cannot for the life of him make out.

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chiropter36 · 4 years

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So. Who hasn’t ever imagined the Greek gods as mortals in a domestic modern setting?

...Well, okay, there’s actually quite a bit of existing art and fanfiction related to the concept. But I’ve had this “AU,” of sorts, developing in my head off and on for a while now, and wanted to share it, just for any other mythology geeks out there who might be interested.

To that end: courtesy of artwork by the amazing @thesnadger, meet the children of the Olympios family! (Well, the ones from the main twelve at least - there are six more siblings/half-siblings among Zeus’s kids, plus all the cousins and honorary family members and so forth. It’s a big family.)

Brief character blurbs under the cut. I don’t really have any specific plans for this AU to go anywhere – it’s mostly just a casual, self-indulgent thing – but if, by chance, this piques any interest and anyone would like to know more about these kids (or any other characters not included here – I’ve thought a lot about this crazy extended family), I would absolutely love the excuse to talk more about them, so any questions are welcome!

(Note: I keep going back and forth on whether they should have more modern-sounding names or just stick with the originals, so I’ve included both, or at least ones I’m considering but haven’t settled on.)

(Note 2: Just for the record, given that this is meant to be set in the modern day, for the purposes of the AU I have taken the liberty of… editing the Olympian family tree a tad, in the interest of toning down the, y’know, incest. So, no sibling marriage or anything going on, Zeus and Hera are unrelated here.)

Athena (Tiena)

Age – 17

The wise-beyond-her-years, overachieving valedictorian who makes it look easy. Seemingly popped up out of nowhere to join the family when she was 9. Rather intimidating, but in a charismatic way; often the “leader” of the kids (much to Ares’ chagrin). Already taking several college courses (started planning her sociology/political science double major before she hit high school), she balances that with a host of extracurriculars (she slays in debate club just as much she does martial arts) while still making time for her weaving, pottery, and industrial arts hobbies. Also grows miniature olive trees.

Ares (Reece)

Age – 15

The eldest son, and rebellious “problem child.” Prideful, temperamental and petty, but very insecure beneath it all; secretly hurt by his parents’ lack of pride in and low expectations of him (a state of things that is… not entirely his own fault). Talks a big game, but tends to fold easily against anyone who isn’t cowed by his tough-guy act. Forever bitter toward Athena for “stealing” his position as the oldest sibling. Idolizes the U.S. military; fully intends to enlist the second he turns eighteen and for all the wrong reasons. Due for some harsh (but hopefully constructive) reality checks.

Hephaestus (Fess? Jeff? Eustace? Seriously, nothing sounds like this one)

Age – 14

The socially awkward, geeky tech wiz. Diligent and hardworking, has a strong passion for metalwork and mechanical engineering (huge fan of shows like Man at Arms). Always busy with some project or other, when not participating in as many robotics competitions as he can manage. Machines are easier for him than people. Generally a kindhearted boy, dislikes conflict and often tries (with limited success) to play peacemaker among the family; however, he can also fall into bouts of self-pity, and on the rare occasions he gets pushed too far, shows a rather unpleasant vindictive streak.

Artemis (Artemia? Artie? Temmie?)

Age – 11

Nature-loving wild child and shameless daddy’s girl. Concluded at age 5 that marriage is stupid and she’ll be taking no part in it. Rarely indoors if she can help it; most likely to be seen running around the yard or local parks with her dogs and gang of girlfriends (her Girl Scout troop nominally has an adult in charge, but everyone knows who the real leader is). Has a significant soft spot for baby animals (humans included). Perpetually vying with Apollo over the top spot in their junior archery team. Treats any sort of “hunting” game – from hide-and-seek to Pokémon Go – very seriously.

Apollo (Paulo)

Age – 11

The popular, artsy preteen heartthrob. Along with the archery talent shared with his twin, he is a musical prodigy (favoring string and voice), and not too humble about either. Writes a lot of original lyrics, and has a passion for poetry in general. Surprisingly superstitious – knows a lot about omens and divination methods, and his intuitions are often scarily accurate. Has a reputation for honesty and helpfulness, always stepping up if someone is hurt (has all the relevant Boy Scout badges). Sense of justice is rather black-and-white, though, and he can hold long grudges.

Hermes (Jeremias)

Age – 8

The mischievous little scamp who everyone can’t help but like. Whether sneaking extra snacks before dinner or running an elementary school gambling ring, he consistently escapes punishment by being just so gosh-darn charmingly precocious. (And that’s only if he gets caught.) Eloquent and possessing a large vocabulary for his age, he’s a natural diplomat and salesman. Equally at home in the city or on his mom’s sheep farm. Loves travelling and interacting with new people. A sporty kid, enjoys running and gymnastics. Often serves as his dad’s unofficial spokesman, a role he delights in.

Dionysus (Dennis)

Age – 4

The goofy, lovable baby of the family. A preemie, and a bit developmentally delayed. Loud and boisterous, his emotions are never a secret – which, combined with his wild mood swings, can make him a major handful. Throws violent tantrums at the drop of a hat, and snaps out of them just as suddenly. Loves acting out stories; a definite theater kid-in-the-making. Doesn’t know the terms yet, but is fully on board with being a boy and/or a girl, whatever suits his fancy. Enjoys playing in the dirt, and shows an interest in gardening – can name all the fruit crops. Always leaving juice stains everywhere.

#greek mythology #mortal au #modern au #athena #ares #hephaestus #artemis #apollo #hermes #dionysus #thesnadger #greek mythology au

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victoria-hendricks-rp · 4 years

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Victoria Jones Hendricks’ Yearbook

𝘽𝘼𝙎𝙄𝘾.

NOME COMPLETO: Victoria Jones Hendricks

APELIDOS: Vic, Vicky, V, Hendricks, Tory por meu pai

LABEL: the prodigy : a very clever, hard working person ; someone who always wants to be the best ; an overachiever and perfectionist. // the bibliophile // the genius

MBTI: ISTJ

SÉRIE: senior

GRUPO: políticos

IDADE: 18 anos

DATA DE ANIVERSÁRIO: 23 de setembro

SIGNO: virgem

EXTRACURRICULARES: clube de debates, comitê de eventos e comitê de serviço voluntário

MOST LIKELY TO… succeed or rule the world

𝙀𝙓𝙏𝙍𝘼.

LIKES: livros, organização, chá gelado, culturas exóticas, história, línguas estrangeiras, sorvete, confeitaria apenas para comer, velejar, listas, agenda, eventos de caridade, bibliotecas, batons matte, flores, camisolas de seda, anéis minimalistas, imãs de recordação, botas, scarpins, salto alto no geral, unhas feitas, itens de papelaria, música clássica, ópera, ballet clássico, jazz, museus, mármore, esculturas clássicas, palestras interessantes, aulas instigantes, mulheres inspiradoras, gatos, relógios, pulseira de pingente, perfumes levemente doces, pedras preciosas em especial safiras e esmeraldas, blazers, bolsas retas, jogar críquete com a família, praia, jogos de tabuleiro, salada, sol, banhos quentes e demorados na banheira.

DISLIKES: incompetência, desorganização, sujeira, preconceito, drama em excesso, crianças mimadas, estar errada, fast food, comidas oleosas, aulas maçantes, atrasos, pessoas que não cumprem com compromissos, trânsito, música trap, falta de educação, machismo, dentistas, incompetência ah, já falei? Desculpa, pessoas que não sabem perder e ficam agressivas, café, golfe, ser tratada como criança ou com condescendência, passas,

HOBBIES: ler, estudar, velejar, assistir apresentações, ouvir música na poltrona com minhas gatas

GUILTY PLEASURE: livros de romance de época, fantasia e juvenis, filmes e musicais água com açúcar

FAMÍLIA: Lukas (Luuk no original holandês) Hendricks, sócio majoritário de um dos maiores escritórios de advocacia da Califórnia e Evangeline Jones, política da Câmara dos representantes pelo estado da Califórnia.

PETS: três gatinhas adotadas, Bastet, Kali e Skadi.

MATÉRIA FAVORITA: história, literatura, inglês, sociologia, filosofia ahn... todas de humanas?

UM ÍDOLO: Rainha Victoria, Hatshepsut, Cleópatra VII, Catarina a Grande e todas as mulheres que governaram mas a História critica, não poderia deixar de falar de Ruth Bader Ginsburg, ou de Malala Yousafzai

UM PERSONAGEM: Portia, O Mercador de Veneza de Shakespeare

UMA FRASE: “Representation of the world, like the world itself, is the work of men; they describe it from their own point of view, which they confuse with absolute truth.” -Simone de Beauvoir

FILME: Adoráveis Mulheres

SÉRIE: gosto de séries policiais tipo Criminal Minds, Suits, NCIS e Crossing Lines e de época como Downton Abbey, Game of Thrones também

LIVRO: Tem muitos para escolher só um, sério... Crime e Castigo, O Mercador de Veneza, Sejamos todos feministas, Perigo para um Inglês, Trono de Vidro, The Curious Feminist, O Leviatã, um de cada gênero

COMIDA: gelatto

CHEIRO: chá de hibisco e frutas vermelhas, channel nº 5 e maresia

PLAYLIST DE 5 MÚSICAS:

Big Girls Cry, SIA: Tough girl in the fast lane // No time for love, no time for hate // No drama, no time for games // Tough girl whose soul aches // I'm at home, on my own // Check my phone, nothing, though // Act busy, order in // Pay TV, it's agony [..] // Tough girl, I'm in pain // It's lonely at the top, black outs and airplanes // And I still pour you a glass, of champagne // Tough girl whose soul aches

I Was Here, Beyoncé: I want to leave my footprints on the sand of time // Know there was something that, something that I left behind // When I leave this world, I'll leave no regrets // Leave something to remember, so they won't forget // I was here, I lived, I loved, I was here I did, I've done, everything that I wanted // And it was more than I thought it would be // I will leave my mark, soul, everyone will know, I was here // I wanna say I lived each day, until I died // You know that I, been something in, somebody's life // The hearts I have touched // Will be the proof that I leave // That I made a difference // And this world will see

Everybody Wants to Rule the World, Lorde: Welcome to your life // There's no turning back // Even while we sleep // We will find You acting on your best behavior // Turn your back on mother nature // Everybody wants to rule the world // It's my own design // It's my own remorse // Help me to decide // Help me make the most Of freedom and of pleasure // Nothing ever lasts forever // Everybody wants to rule the world

Feeling Good, Nina Simone: Dragonfly out in the sun you know what I mean, don't you know // Butterflies all havin' fun, you know what I mean // Sleep in peace when day is done, that's what I mean // And this old world, is a new world // And a bold world for me // Stars when you shine, you know how I feel // Scent of the pine, you know how I feel // Oh freedom is mine // And I know how I feel

Lifeboat, Heathers: I float in a boat // In a raging black ocean // Low in the water // With no where to go // The tiniest lifeboat // With people I know [...] Everyone's pushing // Everyone's fighting // Storms are approaching // There's nowhere to hide // If I say the wrong thing // Or I wear the wrong outfit // They'll throw me right over the side

𝙃𝙄𝙂𝙃 𝙎𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙇.

BEST FRIEND: Minhas garotas Destiny’s Child Mary e Lana, minha baby Barbie, preciso falar de Maddie e minha xará Vic Ortega também

CRUSH: eu não tenho essas coisas

ENEMIE: espero que ninguém

𝙁𝙐𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙀.

CARREIRA: juíza, advogada ou política

FACULDADE: Harvard

CURSO: direito ou ciências políticas

𝙋𝙄𝘾𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙀.

APARÊNCIA: cabelo liso, um pouco bagunçado por ter ido direto da aula, sem maquiagem

ROUPA: blusa preta de manga 3/4, saia estampada preta e branca

ACESSÓRIOS: argolas curtas, alguns colares finos, pulseira reta

POSE: cabeça um pouco para trás, leve sorriso

LEGENDA: If one man can destroy everything, why can’t one girl change it? -Malala Yousafzai

#aie: task #aie: yearbook #extra

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taegoths · 4 years

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the han family / looking for 2 sisters !

so this is as pretty as this is gonna get bc i'm lazy skdfh but noah needs his 2 sisters desperately!! they all grew up in silver creek as their father was raised there by his own step-father and liked the towns... qauintness enough that he wanted to raise his own children there. mom & dad han moved here about 25 years ago, pretty much as soon as they heard of the pregnancy of the eldest child, and have been here ever since.

-- han (24-26, female, fc) is the oldest of the siblings. the hans very first born and the familys biggest accomplishment. the oldest sibling is the one who paved the way for the rest of them, probably trying to become a doctor or something that requires a lot of work. she's an overachiever to the extreme, she wants to please her parents and probably just wants to be the favorite child. she probably has a superiority complex because she's the oldest and honestly? she has a reason to be because she's a badass.

noah han (22, male, jung wooyoung) is the middle sibling. he is the han's only son and being expected to follow his overachiever sister has always rubbed him the wrong way. he's loud, he's obnoxious, he's lazy, and he's the bum of the family. he never cared for school or hobbies like his siblings did, and flunked out of college last year because he can't decide what he wants to do with his life, but he hasn't told any of his family yet because he doesn't want to be a disappointment.

-- han (18-20, female, fc) is the youngest sibling. she's the baby, the prodigy, the golden child. she can do no wrong in their parents eyes and while their parents baby all of their children bc they're soft they definitely baby the youngest the most. she's expected to follow in the oldest's footsteps and do something extraordinary with her life and she probably has the biggest pride of them all because she wants to stand out from her siblings.

and that's everyone!!!! all of the siblings were probably super super close as kids, the girls probably always "forced" noah to do skin care routines (tho he never minded) with them and paint his nails and generally just be really cute together. however as they've gotten older they've probably had more than their fair share of arguments and spats because they're all just so competitive (except noah's literally just faking it bc he's so lazy but he loves to mess with his sisters) but yes!! pls consider making one of the han sisters and feel free to message me on discord @ 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙚#0456 with any questions!

#lovedrp

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girlbookwrm · 5 years

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AVENGERS: CIVIL WAR

THE MIGHTY PRE ENDGAME REWATCH

it took us two entire days to watch this, back in whenever we were watching this. I’ve got a Bundle of Papers here in front of me, and the CW Bundle is by far the thickest, and that’s with minimal salt content.

Speaking of Salt: The Roommate and I had to approach this as an Avengers movie. Because otherwise the salt levels in this would be toxic, possibly fatal. Even so, ppl with high cholesterol be warned

LET’S DO THIS

1991!

Winter Soldier:

what is this

what is this please

dat beef tho

what is this op sec

honestly

NO mask

SHINY FUCKOFF ARM just HANGING OUT

CCTV???

~ooooooo he’s a ghooooooooooooost~

he’s got an extremely dedicated and very harried cleanup crew is what he’s got

OH! OLD LOGO ILU!!!

LAGOS!!

The Roommate: That’s a lot of sugar

i ain’t judging

what, you think her powers run on optimism?

is there an accent? is there not? Shroedinger’s accent.

droney the drone

sam’s lil sky roomba

i love him

guhhhh this scene every line shows character and growth and i just *clenches fist*

did

did falcon just throw steve

just yeeted him at the enemy?

god i love that

also: has steve bulked up since TWS?

that’s also on Sam, yeah?

CUT THE CHEEEEECCCCK

is this fucking NEUROTOXIN? STEVE WHERE’S UR MASK?

Steve, throwing himself into a room full of an unknown poison gas without a mask: I bet i can survive this

Bucky, in Bucharest: *breaks whatever he’s holding without knowing why*

god i love sam

“I don’t work like that no more” Means ?????????????

PARKOUR NAT

is also BRUNCH MOM NAT

“both grunting” is always one of my favorite subtitles

2 white boys fighting in the middle of the street like it’s a video game

god someone took the murder strut to heart wow that is some. that is some something that’s for sure.

give me even one (1) heterosexual explanation for "your pal your buddy your bucky"

there’s no way that bucky ever said this, right? this is just Rumlow fucking with steve, and the screenwriters fucking with us

because IN CASE YOU WERE NOT IN THIS FANDOM IN 2016, WE ALL THOUGHT CAP WOULD DIE IN THIS MOVIE

WE WERE SO SURE

wow i wonder if that will be relevant to anyone’s emotions here in the year of our lordt 2019

anyway, what bucky actually said was:

“please tell rogers... that he’s a big dumb dildo and he should wear a gas mask and also a parachute.”

listen i love this opening scene but also wanda is not at all responsible for this explosion and the fact that they act like she is undermines my ability to suspend my disbelief.

DIGITAL ENYOUTHENMENT ALERT

also, tony the fact that you are using your literal dead mom as an actual therapist is

wow

BARF feels right to me

too real, tony

it’s too real

how ARE you getting around the strings and taxes tho

Also can i say that i actually love that Pepper’s absence is this profoundly important to the story. The hole where pepper should be is a huge part of this story and i like that. i like that a lot.

WOW THAT EXTRA IS LIKE A MASHUP OF NAT AND WANDA. SHE IS THE GENERIC MARVEL WHITE LADY

more a+ visual storytelling with the elevator

I’m just so mad that they blame wanda and play that straight?

all they had to do was outright acknowledge one (1) time that the media is picking on her because she’s a woman/a foreigner

imagine that speech coming from nat instead of steve

though i do love Steve’s pep talk

again. give me one (1) heterosexual explanation

though why not have Steve say “they’re just bullies, you did the right thing” and hearken back to smolsteeb

The Roommate: Remember how i was mad at his Oscars Velvet Blazer? I am also mad at this sweater.... it looks... so soft... i don’t know if i want it on him or off him... just wanna tuch....... and wear..........?”

Vision’s Ascot is. Something else man.

The Roommate: Why is ross secretary of state?

Me: Why is Trump President

Me: I bet Ross is vegan

the roommate, who has vegan-related trauma: UUUUGGGHHHHHHHH

Nat's reaction to vigilantes: Bitch please. she is Unbothered.

you don’t have to show us footage we’ve got the ptsd nightmares

400 pages in 3 days

[tired american sighing]

we honestly can’t even criticize this plot point anymore just

[my longest and most american sigh]

CLEVELAND!!!

hail hydra continues to be the Most Terrible last words

but WHY does ross have the congressional medal of honor

do you know how HARD it is to get one of those????

yeesh

sassy black friends sassing at each other

is definitely a

thing that is happening rn

Vision: Well Actually

no one cares, vis

ok like

a kid is dead but

3.6 is an okay GPA

maybe all my friends are overachievers

maybe it’s just because most of them are women but like

it’s an okay GPA

i’d have 8000% more respect for Tony if he was more upfront like “look this is on me” especially here

are we supposed to be picking all this up as subtext, actually?

because i know that this movie ALSO had a Troubled Youth ala ant man

and i really do appreciate the Russos for relying on a smart audience but there’s a lot going on

and it’s very obvious to me that they had to shift gears 18,000 times in the script writing phase

so like, you’ve got old man vet steve

but it’s painfully obvious that he missed vietnam right?

it’s painfully obvious

and he’s v egotistical and self righteous too

it IS a battle of the egos

and no one is right

except natasha

Steve: i have to go

me: mood

LONDON!!!!

oh god

oh god no

steve god no steve oh god

gfhskfdjjjksjdjjhrrrrhrhhrhfhh [wailing and rending of garments]

Re Peggy’s age:

SURPRISE IT’S ACTUALLY PLAUSIBLE

so the True Hallmark of a Cap Movie is Peggy telling steve what to do.

so weird to have that in an avengers movie

i do love this. GOOD BRO NAT CONTENT

Um. is vision a minor? is wanda?

again, nat is the only Correct one here

stay together guys

it might be

reeeeeeaaaaally important in

*checks watch*

two years’ time.

~hug~

VIENNA!!!!!

CHAD WICK! CHAD! WICK! CHAD! WICK!

god i love the xhosa in this

There is a level of worldbuilding in this that we p much only get from the russos/markus&mcfeely. i mean -- internal consistency worldbuilding? if that makes sense? we get a lot of visual worldbuilding in black panther, but this is distinctly different and hard to articulate and it has to do with the way they approach things and how they assume audience intelligence

it just works for me

oh no chadwick boseman don’t be cry

Sharon deserves better

than being cockblocked by her own aunt

and also sam wilson (who also deserves better)

cryptid!bucky

Nat did you get that suit from jenny agutter?

LA Brunch Mom Nat

mah girl

she’s just so tired

steve (bless him) is just so exhausting

couples date sam and steve dressed to match

“at the gym”??? really? the arm is... a bit of a giveaway

i do feel bad for zemo in this one specific case

russian IS hard

how. did he get that in there?

Soft Plumboy Bucky

BEEF

Captain’s Log: Buck’s place is a shithole

Sergeant’s Log: Steve’s face is pretty

surprise bitch

“That’s Smart, Good Strategy” is an excellent phrase to use in everyday conversation in order to weed out who Knows and who Doesn’t.

What i have learned from civil war:

Captain America is a projectile weapon

further query:

did bucky ever hurl small steve at assailants?

Bucky: *punts steve down an alley*

Steve, 90 lbs of rage at 90 mph: GET WRECKED

Bucky’s got big tommy wiseau cryptid energy here

And now there’s a cat

bucky:

I love this vampire running and also bucky’s thighs

Steve Rogers: Excuse me sir I need to commandeer this vehicle. YEET.

Bucky Barnes: Excuse me sir I need to commandeer this vehicle. YOINK.

Bucky and Steve: Wrecking your morning commute since 2014

WAR MACHINE!!!

god vis has the biggest dorkiest crush

so vis are you a child prodigy? or? what?

The Roommate, a cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure: vis have you eaten anything between CW and IW?

Me, sinnamon roll, not to be trusted: *dying* *thinking about how Vision’s got schroedinger’s dick. does it exist? does it not exist? who knows.*

Me: Y. Yes. I th. think he has. eaten something. between now and. and IW. something.

The Roommate: *betrayed look*

Me: DEEP FRIED KEBAB MAYBE? I DON’T KNOW.

The Roommate: *is so disappointed*

BERLIN!!!!!!

Bucky is. So tired. Let him rest.

fucking up the morning commute again i see

u like cats??

I love the ratio of overkill:ineffectiveness with this glass box they put him in.

why did tony bring these fancy pens

the time spent explaining them could’ve been spent doing literally anything else

*i still don’t understand the accords*

GOD STEVE WANTS TO BE AN UNCLE SO BAD

“my fault”

there it is

“truth is i don’t want to stop”

THERE it is

“i thought the accords could split the difference”

THERE IT IS

"no, i don’t.”

THERE IT IS

“IT’S INTERNMENT.”

THERE! IT! IS!

gah.

wanda’s accent et al -- MAKE IT EXPLICIT MARVEL YOU COWARDS

no but really what are the accords

here followed a 20-30 minute convo about the accords

basically the summing up was:

Nat is 100% Right Ross is 100% Wrong Everyone Else is In A Grey Area

look this is actually a really good avengers movie

but

this is a moment when the back catalogue works against them because this conversation is so -- it implies a lot of friendly interactions between these two. they seem to have a relationship

but i keep looking at all the other movies they’ve interacted in like

BITCH WHERE? WHERE IS THE TONYSTEVE FRIENDSHIP? WHERE???

i am anticipating this will cause me A Grief later

The Roommate, looking at Steve in his Grey Shirt and Jacket: Damn, sir. Stop wearing clothes.

“BIRD COSTUME???”

“j a m e s”

big holt talking to rosa vibes there

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

A VAST AND MIGHTY MOOD

Zemo’s plan is so ridiculous i genuinely don’t have time to get into it i still have two pages of notes to get through holy shit.

this fight scene. does things. for me.

hhhHNNNNHGH BEEFSTEAK

(oh tony left with no suit? growth dot gif)

THIGHS

T H I G H S ! ! ! !

CHADWICK!

Sam out here, serving looks, casually modeling

B I C E P S ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

TOO SEXY! *crashes helicopter*

I need twelve more scenes of steve and bucky faffing about in the water.

A more effective restraint than the custom made bucky bottle

(BRIEF 1991)

haaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAa biceps u stop that

Is Tony having a heart attack???

he has no concept of how to treat children because he never was one oh no i gave myself a sad feeling

QUEENS!!!!!!!

“I’m having a big fight in a parking lot with my superhero friends better go pick up a child as backup.” - tony stark

tony he doesn’t have a passport and if he understood what was happening he would not be on your side

Now That’s What I Call Vigilantism.

Why are you bringing a CHILD to a gun fight

Tony’s face, to me, suggests that he knows EXACTLY what he’s doing

also? it’s painfully obvious to me that these scenes were copypasted in late stage when they finally found out that yes they would have the rights to spiderman lol

for some reason they don’t feel the need to tell is that this is avengers compound in 400 point font

i’m so lost

where are we?

without the 400 point font i can only assume we are on mars

THAT’s a fine way to greet YOUR FATHER, WANDA

hawkeye is in fact the team lynchpin

is it

ugh

is it because they listen to him but he listens to natasha

ugh

i bet it is

UUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH

Vision: I have been FALLING! for THIRTY MINUTES!

“i know someone who does”

i’m confused by the cut here, because it seems to imply that Sharon, deliberately or inadvertently, rats them out to natasha?

Birds and raccoons do not get along

steve

steve no

steve

ur timing is shit steve

Scott Lang might be the best thing in this movie

well except for Dat Bone Structure

CUT THE CHEEEEEECK

*costume change in a parking lot to the yakkety sax soundtrack*

Thinking about the coming battle i am forced to concede that Iron Man Has A Point?

“do you really want to punch your way out of this?”

Steve: I ALWAYS wanna punch my way out

god scott’s such a fukkin nerd

tiny quibble but Scott “got punched by hope van dyne” lang would never say that to the black heckin widow

“gimmick”

people in falcon houses shouldn’t throw spider stones, samuel

wanda

those cars belong to people

oh god iron man has a point

LET’S GO LESBIANS! COME ON LESBIANS LET’S GO

*catfight sounds*

“then why did you run?”

dude you attacked me in a catsuit

Tony’s true superpower is that he knows steve, that’s how spiderbabby gets the upper hand

althought god

Tony was pre-gaslighting peter

he was pilotlighting peter

*my longest UGH yet*

“Queens?” “Brooklyn”

MAXIMUM NEW YORK ACHIEVED

ant man is the MVP

hmmmmmm “we don’t trade lives” HMMMMMMMMM

why did that truck explode

also *omg iron man has a point*

tony tedward stark how did you not know how old this child was

also peter stop pretending you don’t know what Empire Strikes Back, AT-ATs and Hoth are.

why doesn’t Vis get more flack for this

hey. hey tony. you know what sam is? A MEDIC. maybe let him LOOK AT YER FRIEND THERE instead of SHOOTING HIM IN THE FACE.

zemo’s plan is noooooonseeeeennnnnnsssse

guh these two beautiful men emoting in different directions KILL ME

this doctor is just like “yup there’s a giant purple robot here seems legit”

natasha is the only one who’s 100% right

did... did the russos kill themselves in this movie? did they cast themselves as dead extras? was this a statement of some kind?

HOW did ross get the congressional medal of honor. H O W.

“you read it”

NO ONE READ IT, IT’S 400 PAGES

tony this is Some Nonsense

ffflslkds he’s taking one of Nat’s guns KILL ME

one (1) heterosexual explanation.

rode back in a freezer truck

got pneumonia

already had pneumonia

and you blew three whole dollars on some slut

(seriously. gimme one. i’m waiting.)

srsly tho, whether you ship it or not, these two are old marrieds

the red star looks weird on his beefcake arm. did they forget to scale it up?

KITTY

listen zemo is just really turned on by cam and he didn’t mean to say that and that’s the most relateable thing he’s done so far.

It’s not just that bucky killed his mom. it’s that bucky killed his mom AND STEVE KEPT IT FROM HIM.

life alert a senior citizen has fallen

T'Challa, observing this White Nonsense™: I truly should... check myself. Before! I wreck myself.

agism is what it is

god this bit

steve dropping the shield

look at him

he is Stick A Fork In Him D O N E

Rhodey really deserves better than this? He deserves development showing the evolution of his opinion between here and IW

i wish we could get more of him grappling with this

that said

gosh wouldn’t it fucking suck if Cap and Bucky got relegated to End Credit scenes in their own got damn movie to make room for Iron Man to emote at his buddy his pal his rhodey?

*looks directly into the camera like i’m on the office.*

Anyway.

Steve rogers: getting the last word in every argument since 1918.

“from the bottom of my heart: My Bad.”

#The Mighty Pre Endgame Rewatch #cacw

54 notes · View notes

setaripendragon · 5 years

Text

The Light of a Pole Star - Part 2

Here’s the next part; have a few outsider PoVs of Ed and his weirdness. The last scene of this is actually the first thing I imagined when I thought up this story, and I’m actually really pleased with how it came out.

Roy doesn’t know what to make of Edward Elric. Most of the time, he seems like your average traumatised child prodigy. A little arrogant, a lot determined, a bit impulsive and, heh, short-tempered. But there are moments – frequent, odd little moments – where it feels a little like there’s something ancient looking out through Edward’s eyes.

Never in his life would Roy have dreamed of asking any child to recreate the scene of their trauma, but Edward had shouldered the burden, and asked for help when he needed to without shame or the bravado Roy had come to expect. He’d acted like a soldier, and he’d turned a body inside out – and vaporised parts of it – without faltering more than once. Only after it was done had he thrown up and started shaking. Roy had gotten him out of that room quickly, but he’d hesitated to take Edward to join Riza and Alphonse straight away. And that had apparently been the right choice, because after a few minutes, Edward had let out a shuddery breath, leaned against Roy’s side briefly, and muttered ‘Thanks’ before heading out to reassure his brother.

That’s the other disturbing thing about Edward. For some inexplicable reason, he’s decided he trusts Roy. He just up and decided to trust the military dog who’s shady enough to recruit an eleven year old. And if Edward ever really acted his age, or showed even the smallest inclination for naivety, Roy might put it down to a childish trust in authority figures. But Edward uniformly rebels against authority, and makes no secret of the fact that he dislikes the military immensely. And yet… and yet he trusts Roy.

It just doesn’t make any sense.

Think of the devil, and he shall appear. As if his thoughts had summoned him, Roy hears the characteristic thump-stamp-thump-stamp-thump-BANG-thunk of Edward’s return to the office. “Must you always kick the door like that, FullMetal?” Roy sighs, because it’s easier to complain about the abuse the poor door is suffering than to think about his mother’s voice saying ‘he’s a lot more grown-up than he looks’ and wondering if she saw that ancient thing behind Edward’s eyes, too.

“Fuck off, bastard. Hey guys. We brought coffee. Didn’t know what you all like, so there’s some packets of sugar and devil-juice, too. Whatever.” Edward announces while Alphonse shuffles through the door sheepishly and deposits half a dozen to-go cups of life-blood from the good café two streets away on the corner of Havoc’s desk. Predictably, the entire team descends on the non-military non-cafeteria coffee like a swarm of locusts. Edward yelps and scrambles to grab two of the cups before getting the hell out of dodge.

“Hey, you drinking both of those, Boss?” Havoc asks, giving Ed a dubiously concerned look.

“No.” Edward insists, glowering without much heat behind it. “This one’s for the bastard.” He explains, lifting one of the cups in the air to indicate, and then stomping over to Roy’s desk, depositing the coffee on top of the report Roy was reading, and then throwing himself down onto the couch like he always does.

“What if I want milk in it?” Roy challenges dryly.

Edward gives him the stink-eye, opens his mouth, and then, curiously, falters before whatever retort is clearly on the tip of his tongue can fall out of his mouth. He grimaces, hides the expression behind his cup, and only answers once he’s swallowed. “But it’ll clash with the aconite.” He snarks.

Roy really wants to know what Edward was going to say that he thought that was an improvement on, but he decides not to ask. “Attempting to poison your superior officer already, FullMetal?” He asks instead, while very pointedly lifting the cup and taking an easy sip. It does taste very good without any extra condiments. It is also very definitely not plain black coffee. It’s minty, and chocolatey, and decadent. Roy takes another sip and savours it, feeling more awake already.

“I know it takes the average grunt a couple of years to reach that stage of fuck it, but you know me; I’m an overachiever.” Edward sallies back without missing a beat, this time.

“If that’s the case, I’m afraid the rest of my team must be slacking.” Roy murmurs, amused.

“Except Hawkeye.” Edward grins from behind his mug.

“Speaking of which!” Roy begins, sitting up and leaning forward over his work with a show of alacrity that makes Edward snort coffee out his nose. While he’s spluttering and cursing Roy’s ancestors to hell and back again, Roy digs up the forms Edward has yet again failed to fill out. “You do actually need to fill these out, FullMetal.”

“Fuck you.” Edward retorts, but he takes the papers anyway. Of course, instead of doing anything as sensible as fetching a pen, Roy sees Edward’s eyes flick down to the bottom left corner. A grin spreads across his face. “Got bored in a meeting, did you?” Edward snickers.

“It’s not my fault none of the brass are pretty enough to be properly captivating.” Roy fires back flippantly.

“The little horns are a nice touch.” Edward compliments through a shit-eating grin. The smile slips sideways suddenly, into something strangely soft, and that ancient thing is back in his eyes. “Maybe you should quit the military and take up art instead.” His voice is still full of cheerful irreverence, no matter how much it doesn’t match his expression anymore.

“Unfortunately, I think I’d get distracted.” Roy sighs melodramatically.

Edward rolls his eyes, but he still looks… oddly soft. Fond, maybe “Idiot. It’s actually stupid fun to alchemise paint. Apparently it makes the pigment brighter, too, so, hey, win-win.”

Roy raises his eyebrows. “If I remember correctly, that was something of a fashion in Aerugo several hundred years ago. Entertaining dreams of being a renaissance artist, FullMetal?”

Edward startles, looking for a moment as if the conversation just threw him a curveball, instead of a perfectly reasonable continuation. Then he shakes himself and snorts. “No. It’d suit you, though, bastard. You’ve already got the melodrama down.” He mocks. Then he puts the back of his hand against his forehead and pretends to swoon. “Oh, I just can’t work like this! The angles are wrong! The colours are dull! It’s just boring. Won’t someone come and massage my shoulders and pass me the wine that’s just three inches away from my fingertips?”

The entire team is roaring with laughter. “Well,” Roy muses, fighting his own snicker, “if the only other person in the room was the model for my painting, that sounds like an excellent excuse to get a beautiful person within touching distance.” He points out.

There’s more laughter, but Edward goes a little wide-eyed and pink-cheeked before he joins in. “See? I was right.” He huffs between chuckles. “You’d fit right in.”

Riza clears her throat. A glance tells Roy that even though she’s trying to look stern, there’s a smile tugging at one corner of her lips. “Unfortunately, this isn’t medieval Aerugo, and some people have work to do.” She reminds them.

Roy groans.

Alphonse watches his brother leaf through the multitude of books he’d borrowed from the East City Library, feeling… disconcerted. There’s something going on that Ed’s not telling him about, and it’s got something to do with Colonel Mustang. At first, Alphonse had missed it, because the meeting had been so brief, and he’d been in his own slump, but afterwards, after how easily his brother had trusted a scheming military dog with Nina, he remembered that Ed hadn’t pulled out of his strange dissociative state until after Mustang had appeared.

And now the coffee thing.

Alphonse had been the one to suggest bringing coffee on their way into the office, and Ed hadn’t seemed to care until Alphonse had started fretting about not knowing what everyone liked. Then he’d stepped in and ordered one chocolate-coffee with extra sugar – for himself, Alphonse knew – five plain black coffees – for the team, Alphonse guessed, except… – and one mint-chocolate-coffee.

“Who’s that for?” Alphonse asked.

“Colonel Bastard, of course.” Ed said, as if it was obvious.

Alphonse had let it stand, played along, because most of the time, the worst thing to do was to confront Brother over something he wanted to ignore. Then he got stubborn and ignored it for even longer than was sensible just to prove he could handle it, or some other such nonsense. So he bit his tongue, and watched. And the thing that really, really bothered Alphonse was that it had been so obvious that the Colonel had not been expecting anything special, but he’d savoured it. He’d liked it. And Ed just shouldn’t know, off-hand and easy, what sort of coffee the Colonel prefers.

But, of course, Brother is being stubborn about it, so Alphonse isn’t quite sure what to do. He could leave it, let Ed explain in his own time, but… but the problem with that is that Alphonse really isn’t comfortable with how much Ed trusts the Colonel without knowing why. So he’s going to have to ask, and hope Brother doesn’t clam up about it even more.

“Brother?” Alphonse asks, and then waits for confirmation that he’s been heard. He knows what Ed can get like when he’s reading.

“Mm?” Ed hums, and then, when there’s nothing more forthcoming, drags himself a little further out of the book, enough to look up and actually give Alphonse his attention. “What’s up, Al?”

“Why do you trust the Colonel so much?” Alphonse asks, bluntly, because Ed’s reaction to such an attack should be very informative.

Sure enough, Ed looks confused for just a moment, before his eyes widen with that ‘oh damn I’m caught’ sort of look that still makes Alphonse ache because usually only Mum could inspire that expression in Brother. With everyone else he just got belligerent. Except now, after everything, it seems Alphonse can manage it, too. “What do you mean?” Ed deflects. Poorly.

Alphonse does his best to radiate disappointment at Ed’s terrible lying. “You know exactly what I mean.” He huffs.

And Ed deflates. “Yeah. It’s just… it’s- it’s complicated, Al, and I- I don’t want you to think-”

“Think what?” Alphonse presses, but gently. Now that Ed’s talking, the last thing he wants to do is put Ed on the defensive.

“That I’m- that you’re- not important to me.”

Alphonse takes a moment to process that, to parse it from Edward-speak into something actually coherent, and feels something maybe like incredulity bubble through his- well, through his soul, he supposes. “Brother… do you have a crush on the Colonel?” He asks in disbelief. Ed blinks once, twice, and then, unbelievably, laughs. “Brother!” Alphonse whines, indignant. “Don’t laugh! It’s a fair question, when you start saying things like that!”

“No, no, I’m not- You’re right, I’m not laughing at you, Al, I swear.” Ed snickers.

“Then what’s funny?” Alphonse asks, relaxing a little.

“So, okay, that wasn’t quite what I was getting at, but it’s as good a segue as any, so; Al,” Ed says, very seriously, even if he is still trying not to laugh, “Al, Roy’s my soulmate.”

Alphonse has to take a moment to process that, too. Because Ed doesn’t believe in things like soulmates, or love at first sight, or, really, romance at all. So, if he’s not using the word in the romantic sense, then… Well, they do have empirical evidence that souls exist, so… “What do you- No, I mean; How do you know that?” Alphonse corrects himself, because he’s got an idea what Brother means, he just has no idea how Ed came to that conclusion.

“Because-” Ed begins, and then falters, looking faintly overwhelmed. Then he scrubs his flesh hand over his face and sets his jaw. It’s a familiar expression, a ‘we’re going to get to the bottom of this’ expression that reassures Alphonse more than anything. “Because I remember him. He’s the only thing that stays the same.” Ed states.

Alphonse knows that’s his cue to ask questions until that ridiculously incomprehensible answer makes sense. He considers all sorts of questions. ‘What do you mean’ is too vague, and ‘remember him from when’ is only going to get him a rephrasing of what Ed’s already said – ‘from always, Al, I just said that’ – so instead, he asks; “Stays the same through what?”

“My lives.” Ed answers, watching Alphonse carefully, almost warily.

“Your-” Alphonse stops himself from just repeating that, because Ed knows what he said, he meant what he said, so parroting it back to him isn’t going to help. “You’re talking about… reincarnation? Recycling souls through multiple lives?”

“Yeah.”

“And you… you’re saying you remember your previous lives?”

“Yeah.”

Alphonse is not an idiot. He is, in fact, a genius. “Since the gate?”

Ed looks relieved. “Since the gate.” He confirms. “It’s- I don’t understand why it happened to me and not to you, because you went through the Gate, too, but… It’s as if when it pulled me apart, it… exposed all the stuff that I’m not supposed to remember, all the parts of me that aren’t… me.” Ed’s hand migrates from scrubbing his face to raking through his hair and messing up his braid.

Well, that actually explains so much. Like how Granny had been behaving around Ed before they left. She’d still been nannying Alphonse, even though he was six foot tall now, but she’d treated Ed like somehow what they’d gone through had made him an adult. Because, in a way, it kind of had. Or, at least, it had woken up the parts of Ed that had been an adult before. “Oh! Is that Klaus person from one of your past lives?” He exclaims in a moment of sudden understanding.

Ed snorts. “Yeah, Al. Klaus was Roy. Or… Roy was Klaus, once.”

“Oh!” Alphonse breaths, clarity dawning, and then, just as quickly, becoming obscured again by confusion. “Wait, how do you know that?”

“I don’t know.” Ed admits grumpily. “It’s just… I looked at him, and I recognised him. I knew him. That’s like- Al, that’s like someone asking you ‘but how do you know that Ed’s your brother?’”

“Because you look the same.” Alphonse answered at once, even though he knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t have to look identical to the last time you saw me for you to recognise me. You recognise my voice, and my gestures, and my- my me-ness.” Ed insists, hands gesturing vaguely in the air. Alphonse silently judges him for his abuse of the Amestrian language. “Shut up, you know what I mean.” Ed huffs.

“I do.” Alphonse capitulates. He lets the silence settle for a moment, thinking carefully about everything Ed’s said so far. It’s hard to believe, hard to wrap his mind around, but he doesn’t not believe Ed. Too much of the weirdness can be explained this way for him to just dismiss it. Still, he’d like a little more confirmation. “You told Granny, didn’t you?” He asks slowly.

“Yeah. I figured- I figured since she’s old as dirt, I could maybe convince her by, you know, sharing knowledge of the time and shit.” Ed explains. “Turns out, I actually met her in my last life.”

Alphonse is going to have to call Granny and confirm, because that sounds like a pretty huge coincidence. “Who- I mean, what were you like?” He asks carefully, wanting more information for Granny to corroborate.

“It’s fine, you can ask ‘who were you’” Ed assures him. Alphonse huffs, and Ed gets on with actually answering the question. “I was an engineer. Actually helped invent the first car. Sort of, they didn’t really look all that much like what we’ve got now, and the engines in cars today are pretty different, but- Yeah.”

“An engineer.” Alphonse repeats.

“…Yeah?” Ed replies, warily. “Al, what?”

“So, basically a mechanic.” Alphonse rephrases.

Ed pulls a face. “Sort of. I mean, I could fix the damn things, so that’s what I was hauled out to the front to do, but I was designing the things, not-”

“I’m telling Winry.” Alphonse informs him.

Ed’s expression of outraged betrayal is sweet indeed. “Don’t you dare!”

“I’m telling Winry that you invented engines in your last life, but somehow you still can’t understand even the basics of how your own automail even works-”

“You traitor!” Ed howls, throwing a book at Alphonse. Al catches it and judges his brother for throwing books. Ed slumps down in his chair in a huff, arms crossed and scowl firmly in place. “And I can too understand the basics. Just because I’m not an automail genius as well as an alchemy genius-” Alphonse snickers, and Ed grumbles imprecations under his breath.

The last thing Izumi was expecting today was a phone call from one of the Elric boys. It’s been so long by now that getting a call from them is less an expected social courtesy and more a cause for concern, but she’s still glad to hear from them. She’d worried, a little, when months rolled by without hearing anything from them after they went back home.

So when Sig leans around the door to the living room, carrying the phone in one hand and the receiver in mid-air in the other, and says “It’s Alphonse,” she sits bolt upright with a mixture of pleasure and panic. Sig offers her the receiver, and she more or less snatches it, which makes him smile faintly as he puts the phone down on the table, the cord pulling almost too taut through the doorway and turning into a massive tripping hazard.

“Alphonse?” Izumi questions, bringing the receiver to her ear.

“Teacher!” Alphonse greets, bright and pleased, and Izumi relaxes a little. If Alphonse can sound that cheerful, it’s at least not an immediate disaster. “How have you been? I’m so sorry not to have called before, that was rude of us.”

Izumi smiles, even as she narrows her eyes at nothing. An apology, but no explanation, which feels like Alphonse’s subtle attempt at a dodge. “I’ve been fine. Same as ever. What about you? And Edward? What have you boys been up to?”

“We’re good. We’re fine.” Alphonse says quickly. Too quickly. “We haven’t been up to much at all! Just- just studying. Alchemy.”

“Uh-huh.” Izumi drawls, making sure that every ounce of her deeply unimpressed scepticism comes through across the telephone lines.

“Which is actually what I called you about!” Alphonse presses on. “I have a question, and I’m not sure where to even begin looking for an answer, and- and, well, I thought you might be able to help. At least point me in a sensible direction.”

Izumi settles back into the big squishy armchair more comfortably. She’ll play along for the moment, but she’s certainly not going to forget that Alphonse was clearly hiding something from her. “Well, I’ll do my best.” She offers.

“So, I’ve been, um, looking into theoretical alchemy a bit lately. Really, very, massively theoretical alchemy.” Alphonse insists. Oh, Izumi has a bad feeling about this, but she ‘mm-hm’s into the phone to encourage him on. “And, well, a bit of philosophy, too, actually. Just… idle research, you know, except- Well-” He stumbles. Embarrassed, as well as hiding something, Izumi thinks.

“Spit it out, Alphonse.” Izumi encourages.

“I’ve been looking into the theory of reincarnation.” Alphonse blurts out.

Izumi goes cold. “Have you?” She asks, and she’s surprised at how even her voice sounds.

“Y-yes. And, see… I was… well, I was wondering, purely hypothetically, you see, if- All the resources I can find talk about the cycle of rebirth, of souls re-entering the world as a new person, but… there’s nothing on… on whether souls are a finite resource, or if, say, for example, new souls might be being born, too, souls that- that don’t have any past lives.”

Izumi might not be a genius of the same calibre as the Elric brothers, but she’s not stupid. For Alphonse to be asking such a specific ‘hypothetical’ question, he and at least one other person must have committed taboo and spoken about it. They must have compared experiences, for Alphonse to be worried about the fact that one of them had had a vastly different experience to the other.

And where one Elric is doing unspeakably foolish things, the other is bound to be close behind.

Taking a deep breath, Izumi decides that there’s no way she’s getting into this over the phone. She is going to need to see them in person to give them the thrashing they deserve. “Alphonse.” She says slowly, and hears Alphonse suck in a sharp breath. “Where exactly are you and Edward right now?”

“U-um… in Central City?”

“Which hotel?”

That was definitely a guilty ‘urk’ sound he just made. “The… um, the Military Barracks?”

…She’ll kick their asses for that, too. Fuck everything, but they’re only just barely teenagers. They’re so damn young, what the bloody hell are they doing in the Military Barracks?

“I’ll be there tomorrow. Don’t. Go. Anywhere.”

“But-!”

Izumi hangs up the phone with a satisfying clatter-clang. Then she spends several minutes just sitting there, glaring at it and measuring her breathing to tamp her temper down into something that will survive an overnight train-ride without burning itself out.

“Where are we going?” Sig asks softly.

Izumi turns to him, takes a moment to really just look at him, to soak up his beloved features, and look past beautiful brown eyes to the soul beneath. The soul that has looked at her and loved her through blue eyes and green eyes and grey eyes and black eyes and red eyes and hazel eyes in a variety of different combinations. There was one time she remembers he had one blue eye and one eye that was split neatly down the middle between blue and brown.

“What are you remembering?” Sig asks, smiling and reaching up to cup the side of her face.

“Creta. Sometime in the middle of the sixth century. The day I met a beautiful blacksmith with half a brown eye. You were so caught up staring at me you nearly dropped an anvil on your foot.” Izumi tells him, remembering the moment with perfect clarity. “Of course, I was so caught up staring right back at you that I walked clear into an iron beam. You offered to fix the new dent in my helmet for free.”

“Of course.” Sig agrees, nodding as if that was the only thing that made sense. Izumi grins, but the moment fades quickly in the face of the painful reality. “What is it?”

“The Elrics performed human transmutation.” Izumi tells him, and Sig’s expression falls into sorrowful, solemn lines. “Alphonse called to ask about reincarnation, and why someone might not remember their past lives.”

Sig sighs, and gives her a look that she knows means he’s wishing she wouldn’t go haring off across the country to kick the asses of her troublesome students, but he doesn’t say it, and Izumi loves him so much for that. “Where should I get tickets to?” He asks, instead.

“Central City Center.”

Chris is wiping down table-tops in preparation for the early evening rush when one of the last people she expected to see in her bar walks in. She’d have been more surprised if the Fuhrer himself walked in, but not by much, because she sees a lot of military men in her establishment. But Edward Elric, the FullMetal Alchemist, doesn’t look like he feels out of place at all.

“Edward.” The woman who follows him in growls. “This is a brothel.”

The boy isn’t chastised at all, he just rolls his eyes. They both look like they’ve been in a brawl, and though the kid definitely looks worse for wear, they both have the sort of aura that screams ‘you should see the other guy’. “It’s a bar, too, Teacher. You said you wanted a drink, didn’t you?” Ah, so the woman must be Izumi Curtis, the infamous alchemy teacher of the genius Elric boys. Chris watches her with a little more interest, assessing her. She’s a handsome woman, strong and clearly living an active life, although there’s a touch of pallor to her skin that makes her wonder if she’s ill or not eating right. “Hey, Madame Christmas! You open for business?” Elric calls.

“Well, if it isn’t the little architect.” Chris drawls, which gets her a sharp-edged grin from the boy. “You’re still too young to be a customer.” She reminds him, even as she heads back behind the bar.

“If I’m old enough to kill for the state, I think I’m old enough for half a glass of alcohol, thanks.” Elric retorts promptly, holding up his State Alchemist’s watch. Which is a damn good point, really, and Chris knows her boy will get her out of trouble if anyone does complain.

So she nods acceptingly, and gestures at the well-stocked wall of alcohol behind the bar. “Pick your poison, kid.” And then she glances at Curtis to include her in the question about drinks as well without ruining the banter.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any Drachman bottled water?” Curtis asks a little wistfully.

Chris honestly loves it when she can surprise people, and it’s always sweeter when it’s the sort of surprise that makes them light up the way Curtis does when she ducks down to pull the – smuggled – bottle of clear, potent liquor out from it’s hiding place.

“Huh.” The kid says, eyeing his teacher sideways for a moment while Chris pours Curtis a generous glass and sets it in front of her. “Can you make a hot mint chocolate toddy? Without the cream?” He asks hopefully.

“Child’s play.” Chris confirms, and sets about to mixing it for him.

“So why here?” Curtis asks while she’s busy. So many people seem to think that ‘busy’ means ‘deaf’, it’s another of those things Chris really, really loves about her job.

“Why d’you think?” Elric retorts. Curtis grunts an acknowledgement and falls silent. A covert glance shows Chris that she’s glaring into the vodka like it holds the secrets of the universe. “Teacher…” Elric begins, and for the first time in Chris’s hearing, he sounds tentative, nervous. Curtis looks up at him, dryly prompting, and Elric grimaces and shifts on his seat. “How much do you remember?”

“Two dozen, more or less.” Curtis replies, and knocks back half her drink.

“Shit.” Elric swears, wide-eyed.

“How much do you remember?” Curtis retorts.

“Just ten.” Elric replies. “I guess that’s a point in favour of Al’s theory of an expanding source, then.”

Curtis makes a dubious noise, and Elric’s eyebrows hike up. Chris is painfully curious about what the hell they’re talking about, but it sounds as if they’re talking in code, so she’s unlikely to figure out what they actually mean unless they get a lot more careless. To help them along to that end, she serves up Elric’s toddy. He grins his thanks, and takes a sip. His eyes flutter closed, and an expression of pure nostalgia flickers across his face.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Curtis says once Elric’s done savouring his drink. She’s watching him with a very maternal combination of sorrow and pride, but the moment he looks at her, it’s gone, hidden behind practical irritability. “I have a theory about that, but since for a long time I was the only one stupid enough to have done something like that-” Elric cringes down in his seat, thoroughly chastised. “-I haven’t had anyone to test it against.”

Elric clears his throat sheepishly, but he sounds perfectly composed when he says “Lay it on me, then.”

“I think it only goes back to the latest one that’s familiar enough for you to latch onto. Think of the first time. Does it parallel your entire life in weirdly specific ways?” Curtis asks cryptically.

Or, well, it’s clearly only cryptic to Chris, because Elric’s expression turns open and slack with dawning revelation. “Shit- I mean, I’d noticed the sort of- the superficial- but-” He stops, and his left hand goes up to grab his right shoulder. His eyes are glazed over like he’s watching a memory play out so clearly he can’t see the bar at all. “He literally even saved me the same fucking way.”

Curtis snorts. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

Elric startles, drawn back to the present, and shoots his teacher a teasing grin. “Did you drop your bear again?” He asks through a snicker.

“Yup.” Curtis confirms, smiling like a woman in love.

Elric laughs again, this time less teasing and more fond, and shakes his head. “I guessed it would be Sig.” He muses, which sounds like a non-sequitur, but Chris isn’t that surprised to hear the woman’s husband mentioned after the look that had been on her face a moment ago. Clearly, Curtis isn’t surprised, either, because she snorts.

“Obviously.” She drawls, and finishes off her drink. Chris refills it without needing to be asked. Then she looks over at Elric, expression turning serious. “Who is it, for you?”

“Mustang.” Elric answers, like it’s simple, like it’s easy, like there’s no other answer in the world he could possibly give. Chris keeps her expression blank out of sheer force of will, and wonders if Roy’s figured out that Elric is hopelessly in love with him yet. Curtis frowns, like she recognises the name, but she’s not sure why. Elric elaborates; “The Flame Alchemist.”

Curtis’s nose wrinkles in acute disgust, Elric glowers back, and slowly, the teacher’s expression twists into something grudgingly accepting. Then she makes a disgusted noise. “I suppose he can’t be a complete shit-stain, then. But the military, Ed-!” She huffs.

“Hey! It’s not like I joined cause I like them.” Elric shoots back. “And besides, you’ll like him.” He asserts confidently.

“I will, will I?”

“I’ve fucked over the Amestrian military for him twice now. Three times, if you count this latest round.” Elric tells her, like that’s the sort of thing you can just say in public. Idiot. But, still, nice to know he’s on Roy’s side in this. Curtis looks mildly impressed, too, and a bit amused. “Fucking irony. Or- maybe not, maybe it’s just synchronicity.”

“Yeah, it’s good at that.”

“You want to know the real shit piece of irony?” Elric asks, mood dropping into a wry sort of agony. Curtis turns to face him, frowning in concern, and Elric glances at her before looking back at his drink. “The real shit pieces of irony, actually.”

“Tell me.” Curtis orders.

“Amestrian Military burned down Valentino’s bar. With Val still inside.”

That’s… Irony is an interesting word for it. Chris might have picked tragedy, but irony works, she supposes. She feels a twist of sympathy for Elric, and if it had been her student-nephew-son telling her something like that, she might have patted his shoulder and reminded him to keep moving forward, but Curtis doesn’t do either of those. Instead, she laughs. It’s a slightly sick sounding laugh, dark and bitter, but it’s a laugh. Elric clearly doesn’t mind, though, because he snorts once, and buries his nose into his spiked hot chocolate.

“And the other?” Curtis prompts once she’s done.

“Malka was a mullah.”

Elric knows – knew – an Ishvalan. An Ishvalan holy sage, if Chris remembers her Ishvalan right. Well, isn’t that a kick in the teeth. Still, it hasn’t stopped him falling for Roy, so Chris dares to hope this isn’t the disaster it could’ve been. “Shit.” Curtis breathes, wincing.

“Yeah.” Elric mutters, expression twisting.

“I hope you were gentle when you told him about that one.”

Elric chokes on the sip of toddy he was taking, splutters, and turns to stare at his teacher in acute, disbelieving horror. “I haven’t told him! What the fuck?! Why would you think I’ve told him any of this?!” He yelps, and for just about the first time in this whole conversation, actually sounds his age.

Curtis looks shocked by that reaction. “Why would I- Edward, why the fuck haven’t you told him?!”

The look Elric gives her says loud and clear that he’s wondering when she bumped her head badly enough to cause brain damage. “Oh, yeah, sure, because that’s exactly what anyone wants to hear from their fourteen year old subordinate.” And they were back to talking about Elric being in love with Roy again. An interesting segue from knowing an Ishvalan, but Curtis doesn’t seem thrown, and Chris supposes she can understand why Elric might have connected the two so thoroughly in his mind. Hard to explain why the one hadn’t made him hate Roy without admitting to the other.

“You’re more than that.” Curtis points out.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that.” Elric retorts furiously.

“Yes, he does.” Curtis counters, factual and completely certain. It takes Chris aback, never mind how it manages to startle Elric out of his temper. He blinks at her, brow knotting in uncertainty. But he clearly trusts his teacher a great deal, because he doesn’t argue, even though he’d have every right to demand how the fuck she could possibly know that. “He might not know that he knows, but he does know, Edward.” At Elric’s continued bewilderment, she rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. Haven’t you ever had a conversation with him where he says exactly the right thing at exactly the right moment, and you’re left thinking ‘It’s like you were there’?”

Elric’s staring at her wide-eyed again. Slowly, he nods. “We were talking about Fiametta Vittori.”

“The Aerugonian painter?” Curtis echoes, surprised and impressed. “The one famous for painting all the-” She stops, expression falling into slightly pained lines. She doesn’t need to finish, Chris knows exactly what sort of paintings Vittori was famous for. She’s got a few reproductions on the walls upstairs, after all. “Edward…!” Curtis groans.

Elric grins mischievously. “She was a perv. She and Roy would have gotten on like house on fire.” They both paused at that, eyeing each other, Elric with expectant glee, and Curtis with slowly-dawning outrage at the pun. Then they collapse into slightly tipsy snickering. That’s the last piece of dubious sense Chris hears from them for the rest of the evening. The bar gets busy, but she keeps half an ear on them, but all they seem to be talking about is increasingly bizarre historical ramblings. If it’s a code, it’s a damn good one. Chris can’t make any sense of it at all.

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