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thefirsttree · 3 years

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A personal update + my next game

OK, time to do this. I’ve been meaning to do a big DAVID WEHLE™ update for a while now and explain why I haven’t released a new game yet, but you know how life gets in the way. Especially when life is a quarantine hellscape, you have three beautiful, amazing, exhausting kids to raise, a spouse’s job you support, a viral YouTube channel that turns your brain to mush, a thousand emails waiting in your inbox since your game is free on the Epic Games Store (with an impressive number of redemptions too! … meaning lots of emails and customer support issues), etc., etc. What also contributes to my lack of updates is because… I just don’t really like posting online. Fascinating correlation, I know!

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a venting/ranting blog post (well, maybe a bit), because my life is seriously AMAZING and INSANELY BLESSED and LUCKY. I can’t believe how many dreams keep coming true, so much so that I feel I don’t deserve it and I really pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes… but I did want to at least be honest, because I owe that to myself.

Wow, where do I even begin? Well, how about we start with the reason I’m even a full-time indie game dev now: The First Tree. This small hobby project I worked on at night morphed into this gargantuan beast (or fox) that took over my life the past 5 years. Which is great! I’m living the dream! And yet, I really didn’t expect it to do as well as it did. At its core, my game is a slow-paced, sad walking simulator (ahem, I prefer the term “exploration game,” but you know what I mean) that somehow seemed to launch at the right time to the right audience. It resonated deeply with some of you, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I still get emails almost daily how my game changed their lives in some formative way. I’m beyond honored.

However, with that spotlight came criticism and demands from the ever-present, insatiable internet. I would randomly be surfing the gamedev subreddit trying to decompress, and I would see a comment by some rando saying how much I didn’t deserve my success, and how it was all one huge lucky fluke. And I believed them!

And to add to it, some devs considered me an indie marketing “guru”, which I was uncomfortable with. I worked hard to market my game every week, and after my GDC talk, people assumed marketing was my passion; the reason I got up every morning. Just to clarify… NO, I don’t like marketing, and I hate being the center of attention. I don’t like asking people for money and wishlists. But I did what was necessary because I was passionate about telling stories, and I wanted to give my story a fighting chance to be seen on the crowded pages of Steam.

So now, you’re probably wondering “well then David, why did you make fancy YouTube videos showing off your success? Not very modest if you ask me.” This honestly could be a long blog post all on its own, because my experience of putting myself in the spotlight and becoming a “content creator” is… complicated. It was an unusual step for me, especially since I never even showed my face online (as a game developer) until my GDC talk.

First off, I always wanted to teach and start a YouTube channel. I love video editing, especially since I’ve been doing it longer than making games! It’s a huge passion of mine. And teaching people who didn’t know they could make and finish games was a huge motivator (and it’s been so rewarding already). But the second reason is, I was scared. I was self-employed, and I was riding the success of a “huge lucky fluke” that would probably not happen again. I wanted to make sure I could provide for my amazing family, and give them food and health insurance and security in these tumultuous times. I was turning my lifelong passions and hobbies into a business, and it wasn’t as simple of a mental transition as I thought.

So, I went all in on YouTube and the accompanying online course called Game Dev Unlocked. I spent years editing the scripts and videos, and polishing them to a shine. At first, no one watched my videos, no one was buying… and in the blink of an eye, the YouTube algorithm picked up my main autobiographical video (“How Making Indie Games Changed My Life”), and I started getting 5,000 subscribers a day. Right now, I’m at 150,000 subs, which is still hard for me to believe. I always had a dream of earning 100k subs on YouTube, so I was pretty happy with the whole thing. Sales were OK, but mostly people didn’t want to buy the course. Then the emails came in…

Something you should know about me: I am a textbook “people pleaser,” and if someone asks for my help, I take it very seriously. If someone is mad at me, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all I can think about, and it ruins my day. So, taking an onslaught of people begging for help and multiplying that by an impossible amount of people for my brain to truly comprehend thanks to the internet… and let’s just say it wasn’t a healthy mix.

I received thousands of emails from people who were begging me for some kind of reassurance that everything would be OK. That their dreams would come true too. And I wanted to help every single one of them. I went from a nobody working on a game for fun to becoming a spokesperson for the indie game dream. I couldn’t even get a shake from the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru without someone recognizing me and asking for game dev advice. And it didn’t stop there… I would get emails from suicidal kids asking for help, teenagers from Afghanistan asking me to get them out of their country, and on one occasion I received an email from a hopeful game developer in a war-torn country who had just experienced a bomb blowing up their neighboring village. His friends were dead, and he was hoping he could finish a game before he died too, and he needed my help. How do you say no to something like that? Didn’t I owe it to everyone because I was lucky with my hit game and I needed to “pay it forward”? (Something people constantly reminded me of)

And then to top it off, after you’ve given everything you’ve got to other people in need… you get hate mail in your inbox. You spend the whole day serving your children and strangers on the internet, then when the kids are finally asleep, you hit the bed to relax and take a look at your phone to decompress, and you randomly come across an angry gamer in your Twitter mentions telling you your game they got for free sucks, and that you took away a potentially great game from them and that your apology isn’t good enough.

Long story short, I went to a mental therapist for the first time in my life. I was broken trying to care for two toddlers and a new baby in a pandemic (which is very, very hard), taking care of my course students who gave me their hard-earned money and demanded results, and the countless people begging for help on the internet. I was this introverted, internet-lurker trying to take on the weight of the world. I was so tired and hurt that no one cared about me and my needs… only what I could do for them.

Quitting my day job and making this hobby my full-time job has stirred up… mixed emotions. This statement may disturb some of you, but I was definitely 100% happier when I had a full-time job and I was working on my game at night. I missed working with the amazing team at The VOID, working on Star Wars… back when the success of my game was this abstract thing I could only daydream about. Mostly, I was making my game for me with no outside expectations to pay the bills or satisfy the ever-demanding internet, and that brought me a lot of joy.

It’s not all doom and gloom though! I’m actually very happy now and in the best shape I’ve been since the pandemic started. I’ve had to confront my weaknesses and personality quirks, but I’m a better person for it (and I’m sure these issues would’ve come out eventually). I hired an awesome community manager for Game Dev Unlocked who is helping SO MUCH with the emails, I can’t even tell you the mental burden it alleviates. I even leased a co-working office to help separate work from my home, and that’s been a huge help too. I’ve decided to work with my old friends from The VOID on a cool, new VR experience. It will take me away from my projects a bit, but I’m ecstatic to work with a great team again (and not manage anything, whew).

These are all things I would’ve never guessed I needed, because I thought I knew myself pretty well… turns out I didn’t.

The reality is: running a business is HARD. Running it solo is even harder. You have to remember, I was burnt out on The First Tree well into the Steam release in 2017, but I kept working on it for 4 more years due to my fears of failing again and not earning enough money for my family.

So, I was wrestling with the age-old concept of commercialism and art. There was this dichotomy of doing whatever I wanted and being true to my vision (what most people assume the indie dev dream is like), and doing only what customers wanted to buy. This is something that has killed me with YouTube… in one specific instance, I was super excited to make the exact video I wanted to make. I loved every part of its creation, and I thought it had a message that would inspire everyone. I lovingly edited it over several weeks, posted it, and excitedly waited for the stats… and it was by far my worst performing video.

This is not a new problem. Even the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo was a commission forced upon him by the very violent Pope Julius II. My wife and I regularly talk about the fine balance between artistic integrity and commercialism, a problem she is very familiar with as an artist who constantly needs to balance what she wants to make with what the customer wants to hang up in their home.

For The First Tree, I was lucky. It was pretty much what I wanted to make (I had to compromise a lot of things of course), and it turned out millions of people wanted it too. Recently, I thought the safe business decision would be to do it all over again, so I started work on a spiritual successor to The First Tree (an idea that I may revisit one day since I do love the story idea). But that isn’t happening anytime soon. Trust me when I say I am now currently burnt out on animal exploration games.

So that realization left me with a question: what do I do next?

I’ve decided I need to make a game that I want to make, for me. It will be a bit different and I’m almost certain most fans of The First Tree will not love it… but it’s an idea that gets me super excited. It’s an idea that could help me fall in love with game development again.

A few more details: this game will be story-driven, first-person, and will use the Unreal Engine. That means development is gonna be slow going, because I have to learn a whole new tool. The “smart business” decision would be to make something quickly in Unity which I’m already familiar with… but I want to do this for me, and UE5 looks like a lot of fun. I’m also shooting for an early-ish release date so I avoid burn out and I keep the game short: I want to release it in Fall 2022, but knowing game development, it will probably take longer.

With the help of my therapist, I’ve also concluded that I’ve been too accessible on the internet and that my self-worth isn’t determined by the amount of people I try to help online. Of course, I love helping people and seeing them succeed, but I need to step back and focus on my family and myself. I will delete my social media apps on my phone (I will still post big updates occasionally) and stop responding to most emails, tweets, DMs, etc. It’s not that I’m ungrateful… in fact, if I don’t say thank you or at least acknowledge the incredibly nice people who share a sweet message about my game or want to tell me how I inspire them (still hard for me to believe, lol), I feel a ton of guilt… but I need to let that go. Please know I’m extremely grateful to all the fans who follow my work, so even if I don’t thank you directly, I truly mean it: thank you.

I will still post and stream occasionally on YouTube when I want to (and I still do live Q&A’s for my GDU students). The online course sales will help support my family as I work on a potentially risky game idea (and my new job will help alleviate the risk too). I’m gonna try one more marketing experiment and sell a mini-course soon (and add an Unreal section), and after that I’m done working on it. A gigantic thank you to the people who bought my course and are part of the amazing community, it has helped me and my family tremendously, and it’s inspiring seeing the games you make!

I’m a bit worried about the whole thing since this new game idea could flop, which could definitely affect my family. But a sappy, high-school yearbook quote is coming to mind… I think it applies here: “A ship in harbor is safe—but that is not what ships are built for.”

Thanks for reading,

David

#gamedev #indie games #the first tree

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angelsfalling16 · 4 years

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My Door is Always Open to You

Read it on ao3

Summary: Simon continually shows up at Baz's house in the middle of the night, and Baz always welcomes him. But something is going on with Simon, and Baz struggles to help him.

Word Count: 8777

A/N: Wow, it's been almost a month since the last time I posted a fic, which is weird for me. I've been working on a lot of things, but I haven't managed to finish anything because I've been busy and hit a bit of writer's block.

I actually wrote this fic a couple of months ago, but I was working on another part for it, which I still haven't finished. But this fic feels complete without that. It was just going to be a few scenes from Simon's pov plus an epilogue. I hope to post that someday, but for now, I like this fic the way it is and wanted to share it with you all.

I hope you like it!

Thank you @wo2ash for beta reading!

***

Baz

There’s a crash from another room, the sound of a broken window, and I don’t even flinch. I’m used to it. (Even if it is annoying having to repair it.)

I listen for a moment, and when I’m almost certain that the crash didn’t come from the library, I go back to reading my book and wait. It isn’t long before my uninvited guest joins me where I sit in the living room.

He’s late tonight.

“Could you stop breaking in? Next time, just knock.” I turn a page in my book without looking up.

“Are you really inviting a villain into your home?”

The sound of his voice sends a rush of warmth through me. I’ll never admit it, but I’ve missed him.

“You’re not much of a villain, Snow,” I say, glancing up at him. Miraculously, he didn’t cut himself on any of the broken glass this time. Good. I’m tired of cleaning up the blood.

“Of course, I am,” Simon says defensively, flopping down into the armchair and slinging his legs over the arm of it.

He’s already taken off his shoes, and I’m not sure if it’s because it’s one of my rules when people come into my house or if Simon has instantly decided to make himself at home. I’m also not sure which one I would prefer it to be.

I turn back to my book before Simon can catch me staring and say, “You’re late tonight.” I just barely manage to stop myself from asking where he’s been. I don’t want it to appear like I care.

“Aw, were you worried?”

“Of course not. I was just wondering whether I would need to go to the store tomorrow and restock the fridge.”

“Are you worried I’ll go hungry?”

“No. I’m worried I’ll go hungry

“I could leave.”

I glance at him again, but I can’t tell whether or not he’s being serious. I don’t want him to go. I’m pretty sure he is joking; he usually is. This is just a part of our usual banter, and I love it.

“Or you could stay,” I murmur, quiet enough that Simon doesn’t hear me.

I’ve wanted to tell him that so many times. I never do.

“There’s food in the kitchen,” I tell him even though I know that Simon will help himself to whatever he wants whether I tell him to or not.

Simon stands and walks out of the room, and when I see that he has turned towards the kitchen rather than the front door, I relax and settle back into my seat, but I don’t continue reading.

Some would think me crazy for inviting a villain into my home (even a self-proclaimed one) but the thing is, Simon and I have known each other for years, since we were really young.

I still remember what Simon’s father was like before everything that happened. I remember how awful he was. Then, when it came out that he was wanted for murder, I remember how much it tore Simon up, inside and out when it came out what he had done.

That was when Simon changed. His world had been turned upside down, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He had nowhere to go and no one to protect him from what was going on in the media.

He still loved his father, despite what everyone thought he did - what he admitted to doing - and he began to hate himself for loving someone who had killed at least three people.

I have tried to be there for Simon as much as I can, but he rarely lets anyone in, and we weren’t exactly friends back then. And now, I am unsure what we are.

Most people look at Simon and only see his father. I look at him and see the boy I fell in love with so many years ago.

Even if I wanted to, I could never hate Simon in the way some people have chosen to.

Though, there are times when I find it hard to understand how Simon can still care for the person who killed his mother, when if the roles were reversed, I don’t think I could do it. It’s why I understand why Simon calls himself a villain — I don’t think I would be much better.

My mom died when I was little. She fell sick, and it was over all too quickly. If I had someone to blame, I am certain that I would have turned out just as bad as Simon. Worse even, because Simon is not a bad person. He’s far from it, which is what makes this whole “villain” thing so amusing. Simon couldn’t hurt a fly, not intentionally anyway, and it would absolutely destroy him if he hurt a human being.

Simon is everything good in the world, even after the world has thrown so much darkness at him. He does not deserve any of what he has been through, and I wish I could protect him from the world, from everything.

Simon is no villain, and I am no hero. But there still seems to be a rivalry of sorts between us. There always has been, even when we were in school together.

We didn’t hate each other, but we weren’t friends either. Despite this, we kept finding ourselves drawn to each other. Even after we left school and didn’t see each other for over a year, the moment that Simon walked back into my life, a few weeks after everything with his father had begun to die down, I knew I would do anything to make sure that Simon never left again.

His father was no longer in the news every day, but Simon was still being affected by what had happened. (How could he not be?)

It wasn’t easy, but Simon seemed to want to be a part of my life, too.

The first time that he broke into my house, I didn’t know what to expect when I walked into the library. I probably should have run the other direction or called the police or at the very least grabbed some kind of weapon to protect myself from the intruder. But in just the same way that I’ve always felt drawn to Simon, I knew that I would be alright if I walked into that room.

I quietly entered the dark room, and I was surprised to find Simon standing there, the dim moonlight outlining his familiar figure. I was too stunned to move for several minutes, and he didn’t say anything, presumably waiting to see what I would do.

When I finally managed to shake myself out of the shock of seeing a boy I hadn’t seen in over a year, I flicked on the light and moved over to him where he stood in front of the window. I pretended to be checking out the damage that he had caused, but I was more interested in the state that he was in.

His face was pale, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. I wanted to ask if he was alright but didn’t know how.

His hair had fallen flat, weighed down by grease from not having been washed in a couple of weeks. His clothes were wrinkled and disheveled, looking like that was at least the third day in a row that they had been worn. The worst part, though, was the blood seeping through his clothes and running down from a small cut on his cheek.

I couldn’t tell whether all of the blood was from the broken window or if he had gotten into a fight before he arrived. I didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell me. I directed him to the bathroom so that he could clean up, and I anxiously paced up and down the hallway, wondering how he knew where I lived. Maybe he just wanted to break in someplace and by some crazy fluke, he ended up in my house.

I felt ridiculous when I wondered if was judging me on it.

It’s a nice, cozy home. One story with two bedrooms, one of which I use for my library. It’s my quiet place, the room I go to when I just need to get away. I can open a book and get lost, forget all of my troubles.

The house actually belongs to my aunt, but when she moved into a different place, she decided to rent it out to me for a decent price, so long as I take care of it. (Let’s just hope she never finds out how many windows I’ve had to replace over the years.)

When Simon exited the bathroom, less bloody than before, he smiled at me sheepishly.

“I probably should have used the door.”

I actually laughed. I was full of nerves, and the sound kind of bubbled up out of me.

Here was this guy I hadn’t seen since our high school graduation, standing in my house that he just broke into, acting like we’re old friends.

Honestly, it felt like we really were friends. Maybe we didn’t used to talk too much, but he was a part of my life that I couldn’t deny.

“It’s fine,” I told him. “I just hope you didn’t ruin any of my books.”

This time, he was the one to laugh, and even though it didn’t sound as full as it once did, I found myself wishing that I could listen to that sound for the rest of my life.

“I will pay for all of the damages,” he promised.

Then, I offered him some food, and his face lit up. He ate most of what I had in my fridge, acting like he hadn’t eaten in days. His face filled with color, and he began to smile a little more. When he left later that night, he thanked me for everything, and I was so afraid that I would never see him again, so I had to try to make sure that I would.

“You’re welcome here anytime,” I told him, meaning it. I wanted him to come back, and a week later he did. And he never stopped coming.

Ever since then, he drops by my place announced, and I offer him food.

Over the years, we have become friends, telling each other everything.

I do a lot of the talking, which surprised me a bit at first, but every once in a while, Simon will seem full of life and tell me all sorts of things about himself.

He’s been doing some online schooling over the past year or so, but I know that he struggles with it. He would rather just work, but he hates being around people who know who his father is. He feels like they’re always judging him for it even though he didn’t do anything.

I wish that one day we could get out of this town, move somewhere far away where no one knows us and start over. It isn’t that simple, though. My family is here, and even though we have our issues, I could never just up and leave them. I don’t think Simon could ever leave either. Something is holding him back.

Recently, I have begun to leave my windows unlocked for him and ask him to use the front door, but he seems determined to break in. Something about keeping up his street cred or whatever.

He doesn’t always break a window. Usually, he just sneaks in through them and overturns whatever room he entered into to make it look like someone broke in. It makes me smile, and I’ve noticed that he’s never broken the window in the library since that first day. I think he does all of that to make himself seem more like a villain, but I’ve wondered before whether there was something more to it.

This whole villain thing is kind of our inside joke.

We both know that if either of us were to become a villain, it would be me. I’ve got this kind of darkness inside of me that tries to take over every once in a while.

I’ve begun to work through that, though. It isn’t always easy, but I’m working through everything, which wasn’t really my choice when I began.

When I was seventeen, my aunt became so worried about me that she made me go see someone about it. I hated her for it at first. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about my problems, but after a long while, when I began to see how much of a difference it was making, I didn’t mind it as much. It was nice to have someone to talk to about whatever was going on.

My therapist is the only person who knows how I really feel about Simon. I haven’t even told my two best friends about him. They think Simon is just some kid we all went to school with and who I never really got along with.

They don’t know that I am still in contact with him or that he shows up at my place in the middle of the night and I don’t kick him out.

They have noticed that I don’t let them crash at my place as often anymore, but I simply tell them that I like to be alone sometimes. Which is true. Sometimes it’s too much to be around other people.

I never feel like that with Simon, though.

With Simon, things are easier. I feel like I can relax around him and not be judged. He will tease me about things (like my reading glasses) but it’s all in good fun.

We know everything about each other. Well, almost everything. There is that one simple truth that I will never tell him. I can’t. It would change things, and Simon would probably stop dropping by. I don’t want to lose him.

“So, what have you been up to since the last time I saw you?” Simon asks, finally returning from the kitchen with a giant sandwich and pulling me out of my thoughts.

The sandwich seems to have anything and everything that Simon could find in the fridge. At least two kinds of cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, and pickles hidden somewhere in the middle. There are three slices of bread and at least half of the meat that was in the package when I bought it.

It has everything except mayonnaise.

Simon refuses to even try it. The last time he ate it, he got sick and has refused to touch it since, which is why I don’t even keep any around anymore. (Not that Simon knows that.) (He probably hasn’t even noticed.)

I’m not sure how Simon plans to get his mouth around all of that, and I look away when he picks it up and lifts it to his mouth, but when he sets it back down, chewing quietly, I take a moment to look him over. He looks alright on the outside, but I sense something else underneath the surface. Something is bothering him.

I haven’t seen Simon since Thanksgiving, and Christmas is in two days. Even though I told him differently, I really was worried. He usually drops by two or three nights a week. I was beginning to worry that he might be dead in a ditch somewhere or that he ran away again without so much as a goodbye.

“Well, I graduated from college.” I say it slowly and quietly, like it’s no big deal.

“I thought graduation was in May.”

“I graduated a semester early,” I reply with a small smile.

I had to work hard to keep up my grades and take extra classes, but I feel like it was worth it. Now, I’m taking a semester off before I decide whether I want to look for a job or go to graduate school.

“You should have told me, and I would have come.”

I shrug. “It wasn’t a big deal. It was a lot of sitting and really boring.”

I don’t mention the fact that I don’t have any way to contact Simon. I know the place he stays at with his friend, but I don’t know his number (or whether he has a phone), and I’m not about to just show up uninvited at someone’s house.

“It wouldn’t have been boring,” he says, and he sounds like he means it.

We sit in silence while he eats. I try to think of something else to say, and finally, I ask what I’ve been dying to ever since Simon entered my house. On the outside I have been acting calm and uninterested, but on the inside, I’m an anxious ball of nerves.

“So, where have you been?”

“In hiding,” he replies with a shrug.

I frown at him. “Why?”

“It’s what villains do, right? They hide until someone catches them.” He tries to joke, but it sounds flat.

“Come on, Simon. Be serious. What’s going on?”

He looks down and frowns as he tugs at the edge of his shirtsleeve. He’s quiet so long that I’m worried he isn’t going to say anything. When he does speak, he’s so quiet that I have to strain to hear him.

“My father wanted me to visit him.”

“And?” I ask, trying not to let on how worrying that is. As far as I know, Simon hasn’t been to see his father since he was convicted a few years ago.

“And I didn’t go.”

“Okay. But why have you been hiding?”

“Because I wanted to go visit him. And I know how awful that makes me. My father killed three people, and I still want to go check on him.”

“It doesn’t make you awful. It makes you human. Yes, he did terrible things, but for seventeen years, he raised you. He loved you, and you loved him. It makes sense that you would still care about him.”

Simon is quiet for a while, his food gone now, plate abandoned on the coffee table. He rubs his eyes, and I realize that he has bags under his eyes. All of this must have been keeping him up at night.

“It’s almost Christmas,” Simon says quietly.

“I know.”

“No, I mean, you’re supposed to spend Christmas with your family, and I haven’t got any family left.”

I hurt for him when he says this. I might not get along with my family, but at least I’ve got them. Simon has no one. He feels totally alone in the world, but he isn’t.

“You’ve got me,” I tell him.

I should probably take it back, but I don’t want to. I mean it. Simon means the world to me.

It makes me sad to wonder how he has spent Christmas these past few years. Has he been hiding out every year around the holidays and I just didn’t notice it? Or has he been with his friend?

I hate that I don’t know enough about him to know the answer to this. And that I never even thought to ask what he was doing for the holidays.

He looks up at me with wide eyes rimmed in red, and the pain I see so clearly etched there tugs at my heart.

“Come with me to visit my family,” I tell him.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“They won’t mind, trust me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Come by tomorrow night, and you can stay here. Then we’ll drive over to my parent’s house on Christmas morning.”

I manage to say all of this casually and not like I’m dying to ask Simon to stay over tonight, too. That might be too much.

“Okay.” He nods once, the look in his eyes distant. “I should probably get going.”

“Alright, I’ll walk you out.”

He stands and grabs his plate, carrying it to the kitchen and rinsing it off before I can tell him that I’ll get it. Then, we walk slowly to the door.

We both stop there, facing each other like we’re both waiting for something to happen. I want to reach out to him and pull him into my arms, hold him until all of his pain goes away. I tuck my hands into my pockets instead.

I try to think of something to say but come up with nothing except, “Perhaps you can buy me a new window for Christmas.”

Simon laughs, relaxing for the first time since he arrived. My heart does a flip at the sound of it.

“See you tomorrow, Baz.” He opens the door and steps out into the cold air.

“Please use the front door tomorrow.”

“No promises,” he calls over his shoulder, zipping his coat up as he walks down to his car, parked by the curb.

I watch him go, still feeling worried about him but glad that I’ll be seeing him again tomorrow.

***

We pull up in front of my family’s house on Christmas day, and we sit in my car for several long minutes. I’m not sure I want to go in. Something always goes wrong when my family gets together, and maybe bringing Simon along wasn’t such a good idea. But it’s too late to turn back now.

I was almost certain that Simon had bailed on me. I was up until one in the morning waiting for him last night, and I was convinced that he wasn’t going to come over and that he wasn’t going to my parents’ home today.

It would have been fine if I hadn’t already panic texted Dev to tell him Simon was joining us for our big family gathering. By now, he’s probably blabbed it to our entire family, and if I had shown up all alone today, my family would have looked at me with a mix of confused and pitying glances.

Then, Simon finally showed up looking as handsome as ever, and I had to hide my relief. I made him food, not bothering to ask whether he was even hungry (he usually is) and then we went to bed without really talking to each other.

Now, we’re climbing out of my car and walking up to the front door, and I’m wondering if I’ve just made a huge mistake. Not just because of my family not getting along but because when I invited Simon over, I forgot that I would have to introduce him to people, and I have no idea how they’ll react when they figure out who his father is.

I’ll have to try to stick to just his first name, and hopefully no one will recognize him. And if I’m lucky, they’ll all try to be polite and nice to each other because we have a guest.

With a small smile in Simon’s direction, I let us into the house and lead him on a quick tour, hoping to avoid talking to my family for just a bit longer. His eyes go wide as he takes everything in, and I feel a bit self-conscious. I don’t live here anymore, but I grew up here, and I feel like whatever judgments he makes about the house are the same judgements he’ll make about me.

He stays silent the whole way through, and when we get to my old bedroom (now another guest room), I consider suggesting that we hide out here all day. But then a voice calls up from down the stairs, and I reluctantly lead him back down to let him meet my family.

Introducing Simon to my parents feels a lot like I’m introducing a boyfriend to them. Only without the benefits of having a boyfriend.

My stepmom, Daphne, is polite and seems genuinely delighted to meet him. My father, on the other hand, is politely detached, offering a grim smile and nothing else except an unreadable expression as he looks at me. He disappears shortly after and introducing Simon to the rest of my family is surprisingly pleasant as they welcome him with open arms.

Slowly, Simon’s expression starts to open, and he ends up playing with Mordelia and a couple of my younger cousins, running around the house, chasing them in a wild game of tag.

It isn’t until a couple of hours later, after we’ve all exchanged presents and eaten, that I find out just what that look that my father gave me meant.

He pulls me away from Simon and into his study, just off of the formal dining room. When he turns his glare on me, I know that trouble is coming. We stand there in a tense silence, staring each other down until he finally utters two words.

“Davy Magia.” Simon’s father.

I freeze, not even daring to breathe. I was foolish to believe that no one would recognize Simon. I should have known that my father would know who Simon and his father are.

I haven’t heard Simon’s father’s name spoken aloud in a long time. I quit watching the news after everything came out. I only know that he’s gone to jail to serve for the rest of his life. The media started calling him something different anyway.

The Mage. It’s a play on his last name, but I think it also fits what he did to his victims. I don’t like to think about that. It was awful, and it’s just one more reason that Simon has been affected so heavily by all of it.

I have refused to call him anything except Davy Dickhead. It makes Simon smile most of the time, and really, it suits him better than anything else does. He was an awful person, and he doesn’t deserve a nice nickname.

“Why would you bring that boy here?” My father hisses, not even trying to keep his voice down. “You know how I feel about his father. How we all feel.”

“Simon is not responsible for what his father did.” It’s not a great idea to try to stand up to my father when he’s this angry, but I have to defend Simon.

“You have no idea how he may have been influenced by that man. You don’t who he is.”

“He’s my friends. He’s—” the love of my life. I don’t say that. My father already ignores the fact that I’m gay. I don’t want to know what he would do if he knew I was in love with the guy he’s already angry about me bringing here.

“He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“He’s already fooled you, just like his father fooled so many people.”

My hands clench into fists, and I’m about to spit out something biting, something I’ll most likely regret when I hear a noise out in the hall. My father hasn’t seemed to notice, but I’m almost certain that it was Simon because that’s just my luck.

My choices are to stay and continue to argue or run after him. It’s not really a choice at all.

With one last look at my father, wishing I could change his mind about this, I turn and run out of the room. Simon is already at the front door, pulling on his coat and scarf.

“Are you leaving?” I ask, even though the answer is obvious. What I’m really asking is whether he plans on leaving without me.

“It’s time for me to go.” He won’t look at me. He’s staring hard at the floor.

“Let me grab my stuff, and I’ll drive you back to my place.

“No.” He shakes his head. “You should stay here.”

“How are you going to get home?”

“I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.” He opens the door and starts to leave.

“Simon, please,” I say, reaching out for him.

Simon yanks his arm away and keeps walking, not even sparing a glance back. I don’t try to go after him this time, but I don’t want to go back inside either.

I quickly send a text to Dev, telling him that I’m leaving, but I don’t go to my car. Instead, I turn to the woods that line the property. It’s cold and my jacket is inside, but I feel hot with anger. I just need some space.

I haven’t felt this angry for a long time, but suddenly it feels like I’m angry at everything. My father. Simon’s father. Even Simon.

It isn’t fair of me to be angry at Simon. He was right to be upset. I just wish he hadn’t left because now I’m worried about him getting home and worried that he’s going to disappear again without telling me where he’s going.

It’s awful loving someone when you never know how long they’ll stick around for. I’m constantly worried that this time is the last time that I’ll see him.

I walk until long after the sun has set and until I can no longer feel my fingers. Then I head back towards my car. Dev is waiting there for me. I wonder where Niall is.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, fumbling for my keys with numb fingers.

“I could ask you the same thing. I thought you left.”

“I decided to go for a walk.”

“Without your friend?”

“He left,” I say shortly, wishing that I didn’t have to talk about him.

“He isn’t just a friend. Is he?” Dev has always been able to see right through me. It was stupid of me to think that he wouldn’t take one look at me with Simon and not know that something was up.

“He is just a friend.” I can hear the sadness in my voice, the longing for something more.

“But you want more.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“What makes you say that?”

“All he can think about is what happened with his father, and I can’t blame him for that.”

“And you.”

“What?”

“He thinks about his father and you. Why else would he have come here today?”

“What a mistake that was, right?” I say bitterly. “I mean, he would rather walk home than sit in a car with me.”

“He didn’t leave, you know. Not at first anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“He came back about ten minutes after I thought you left, said he wanted to apologize for running off like that.”

“You mean he’s still here.”

He shakes his head. “No. He waited, but whenever everyone else started to leave, I had Niall drive him home, and I’ve been waiting for you to return.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Only a little. But this isn’t your fault. I’m sure it will all work out.”

“I don’t know about that. I keep hoping that things will change between us. We’ve grown closer, but sometimes it still feels like there’s some kind of divide between us.”

“So talk to him about it.”

“I’ve tried. We talk about a lot of things, and even though I don’t know what it is exactly, I know that it has something to do with his father.”

“Maybe he just needs time. What happened was awful, and he just needs time. The best you can do is to be there for him when he’s ready to talk.”

I sigh. I know he’s right, and I tell him so. I wish that I could help Simon with whatever it is he’s struggling through, but the important thing is for me to be there when he needs me.

Dev and I stand there for a little while longer, talking. He brought me my stuff out, so I don’t have to go back in, and I smile gratefully at him.

“Do you need a ride?” I ask, pulling on my jacket.

He shakes his head. “Nah. Niall will be back soon.”

“Okay.”

“Merry Christmas, Baz.”

I smile bitterly. Yes, it’s Christmas. But there’s nothing merry about it. My father is angry, and Simon is upset. And I’m at a loss as to how to fix either of these problems.

“Merry Christmas, Dev,” I say quietly.

***

Simon’s car is gone when I finally get home, and while I’m glad he managed to make it back alright, I find myself wishing that he had stuck around and waited for me.

I trudge inside my house and start a hot bath, needing some way to relax. I let my eyes fall shut as I slip into the water, wishing that it could wash away all of my problems.

I’m glad that the night is over. And I’m even more relieved that there won’t be any more holidays where I’m expected to make an appearance in front of my family until at least February. I doubt I’ll be going back there for my birthday, though. Things are too difficult with my father. We get along better from afar, when we don’t have to talk face-to-face. Maybe it would actually be best if I were to move away.

I’d only have to come back for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I could start a new life somewhere different. The only problem is that I would want to take Simon with me, and I’m not sure that he’d be up for leaving with me.

I think he feels tied here, to this town, which is why he always returns. Maybe it’s his father, maybe it’s something else, but I couldn’t possibly ask him to leave everything here and start a future with me when I don’t even know if he has feelings for me.

I’ve suspected it before. There have been gentle touches and lingering looks that feel like something more, but neither of us say anything about it, so I’m always left wondering whether I’ve just imagined it. Simon is just so difficult to read sometimes. I can’t figure him out or what he’s thinking.

I always think he’s upset with me when he’s not, and that turns out to be true again with everything that happened tonight.

He shows up at my house the next night, and I’m surprised to see him again so soon.

There’s a crash from another room, the same as so many nights before, but this time, I am worried about what will come next.

I’m standing in my kitchen making a midnight snack, and at the sound, I begin making something for Simon, too.

He walks in and sits at the table, and neither of us say anything until I’ve placed the plates on the table in front of us. I stare at my plate quietly, not touching the food, aware of the fact that Simon is staring at me.

I spent all day trying to imagine what I would say if he ever returned, but I couldn’t think of anything that sounded right.

“I’m sorry” isn’t good enough. I want to tell him how I feel about him and that I don’t care about who his father is. I want him to know that I’d stand by him no matter what. But I don’t know how to phrase it in a way that won’t make him think that I’m only saying it out of guilt for what happened last night.

“Baz,” he says so quietly that it almost breaks me.

I look up with a smile that I know is fooling no one and say, “Simon.”

“I’m sorry for leaving last night.”

I shake my head. “You don’t have to apologize. I wanted to leave, too, after what my father said.”

He nods and takes a small bite of the food I set in front of him.

“I want you to know that I don’t agree with him,” I say carefully. “I don’t care who your father is. I only care who you are.”

It isn’t anything that I haven’t told him before, but right now, it feels important to remind him of that. I need him to know that even if it means going against my father, I will stand by him.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. He looks like he wants to bolt, and I’m relieved when he stays where he is.

We finish eating in silence before moving to the living room. It’s getting late, but I don’t want him to leave so I turn on the tv.

He falls asleep after less than an hour. I grab the blanket off the back of the couch and wrap it around him. That’s when I notice the blood on his arm. He must have gotten hurt when he broke the window and climbed through it. I feel bad because he never said anything, and I didn’t check.

Careful not to wake him, I wipe away the blood and put a couple bandages over the cuts.

I head to my room, wondering whether he’ll still be here in the morning.

***

He is. And he’s making breakfast.

I walk into the kitchen, yawning, wondering if I’m still dreaming. Simon rarely cooks when he’s here, and he looks way too attractive for this early in the morning.

There’s coffee and bacon and toast with loads of butter. I don’t usually eat breakfast, and Simon remembers that, handing me a cup of coffee before he starts making himself a plate of food.

I smile at him gratefully, leaning against the counter while I watch him eat.

The coffee is just the way I like it. Just enough cream to make the coffee lighter but not white and more sugar than is healthy. Simon always gives me grief about how much sugar I put in it, but then I point out how much butter he eats, and we’ve both silently agreed that we both have unhealthy habits that neither of us will ever change.

He cleans up everything when he’s finished, and the kitchen looks like he was never there. He never leaves a trace of himself at my house. Never forgets his jacket or anything, and sometimes I wonder if I’m just imagining him here late at night.

“Thanks for letting me stay over. And for the bandages.” He doesn’t look at me as he says it.

“I didn’t want you bleeding all over my couch,” I say, acting like it’s no big deal. It’s always best to play things off like they don’t mean anything.

“I should probably get going.”

“You don’t have to.” I say too quickly. I mean, if you don’t have anywhere you need to be, you’re welcome to spend the day here.”

He shakes his head. “I-I think I’m actually going to go visit my father.”

“Oh.”

“I want to tell him goodbye.”

I look at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

“I want to move on with my life, but I can’t do that when I feel like I owe him something. So, I’m going to go tell that I won’t be seeing him ever again. That I’m done feeling guilty for the things that he did.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” I say softly. I want to offer to go with him, but this feels like something he wants to do on his own.

“If it isn’t too late, would it be alright if I dropped by tonight?”

“It’s never too late. Just use the front door.”

***

When Simon returns that night, he rings the doorbell, and I have to force myself not to run to let him in. I half-expected him to bail, but he’s even earlier than usual.

I’m wearing a soft smile when I open the door, but that quickly falls away when I see the expression on his face.

He looks upset, but also, he’s drunk. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Simon drunk before. I’m not much of a drinker myself, and neither is he. Something must have gone horribly when he was with his father.

“Did you drive here?” I ask, leading him inside and to the living room.

This is our safe place. This room, this couch. This is where we’ve spent so many nights working through things or just enjoying being in each other’s company.

He shakes his head. “Called a cab.”

“Sit,” I say, pushing him gently towards the couch. I leave him there and get him some water. “So, what happened?” I ask, handing him the glass and sitting down beside him.

“Went and saw my father.”

“And?” I prompt.

He shrugs, taking a sip of the water and staring blankly at the wall, but when he turns to look at me again, his eyes look clear.

“He tried to convince me that what he had done was a good thing. That he had good reasons for killing those people. He didn’t tell me what they were, and I’m glad. I got so mad at him. I didn’t understand how he could do all those terrible things and expect me to be okay with it.” He pauses and takes a breath, looking back down at the water. His voice is softer when he speaks again. “I began to wonder if it meant that I was an awful person because he believed that I would stand by him through all of this.”

“Simon, no,” I whisper, but he ignores me and keeps talking.

“But then I thought of you and how you’ve been my friend despite everything else. You invited me over for Christmas, invited me to be a part of your life, and I thought that I couldn’t be all bad if someone like you cared about me.”

Tears burn behind my eyes, but I blink them away. I hurt for Simon.

“That’s what I told him. Not about you exactly. But I told him that I had found someone who I’d fallen in love with and who accepted me as I am. I told him that I didn’t need him and that I wouldn’t be back to visit him. Then I left. I was going to come straight here, but I fell apart as soon as I got in my car. I needed a drink, and that turned into three drinks, maybe four.”

He stops talking, and we’re both quiet for a long time as I try to soak all of this in.

I’m proud of Simon for standing up to his father. I know it must have been difficult for him to do that.

And then there’s the fact that he’s in love with someone. I know it was stupid of me to think that I was one of his closest friends, that maybe he had feelings for me, but I had no idea there was someone in his life who he spent enough time with to fall in love with. Maybe he’s with them when he’s not with me.

This realization hurts, but it’s nice to see that he has hope. He deserves that and so much more.

I know that Simon has been seeing a therapist. We don’t really talk about it, just like we don’t talk about mine. He was beginning to seem happier, and I can’t even begin to imagine the effects that this must have had on him.

I force myself to put on a pleasant expression and turn to him. I put my hand on his knee and squeeze it gently. “I’m sorry, Simon.”

He shakes his head. “It isn’t your fault.”

“I know, but you don’t deserve any of this. You deserve to be happy.” I’m just about to ask him to tell me more about this special person in an attempt to show interest when he lifts his hand and places it on my cheek.

The words get caught in my throat, and I’m frozen in place as he starts to lean towards me.

His lips are just about to brush mine when I push him away. I turn away from him and squeeze my eyes shut.

“No.” I shake my head and take a breath before looking back at him. “I’m sorry, but you’re upset. And drunk. And I can’t let you do this.”

He frowns but pulls away from me.

“Can I kiss you some other time then?” He asks, and my heart is threatening to beat right out of my chest.

“Yes, Just not tonight.” I know that in the morning he’ll regret trying to kiss me.

He’s in a dark place right now, and he’s just looking for a way to feel better. I wish I could do that for him, but my feelings are too real. I would never forgive myself if I let anything happen while he was like this.

We sit there in an awkward silence, and he sips on the water I handed him, probably just to have something to do. I don’t know what to say.

“It’s late. I should get home.”

I shake my head and give him a look like he’s crazy to think that I’d let him leave in this condition.

“You’re drunk. Stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. You’re always welcome here,” I tell him, and I mean it.

I make him a bed on the couch and head to my room. I’m not sure that I can handle being around him any more after he just tried to kiss me.

He must have found out how I felt about him. Or he just wanted to have some fun. I’m not sure which is worse.

The first one means that there’s a chance he feels the same way about me, which is very unlikely. The second one means that he doesn’t, and I would be just a fling, someone he tossed aside when he found something better.

And he’s already found someone better. The person he’s in love with.

***

Simon is gone in the morning. The blanket I gave him is folded up on the couch with a note folded neatly on top of it. It doesn’t say much. There’s only one line.

I had to go. Thanks for everything.

-S

I’m both surprised and not. He probably just needs some space to think. (And to go confess his love.) I was stupid to hope he would want to stick around.

I throw the blanket in the washing machine, resisting the urge to see if it smells like him, and the note gets placed in a drawer with so many others just like it.

I spend the day trying not to think about Simon, failing miserably, and I stay up far too late, waiting to see if he’ll show up again.

He doesn’t.

It isn’t that unusual. He rarely comes two nights in a row.

The next day, I go out to get food to restock my fridge. I get all of Simon’s favorite foods, including extra butter, and I wait for him again that night until I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. He still doesn’t show up.

He doesn’t come again until the next night.

I’m surprised when he comes to the door, rather than breaking in, and I have no idea what to expect.

It’s always been so easy with him, but now, I have no idea what to say. I don’t know if he’s upset with me for not kissing him or if he’s glad that I didn’t.

The first thing that I notice about him is that he is completely sober. And he’s smiling. It’s the complete opposite of the way that he looked the last time that he showed up at my house.

I’m wary of it though, wondering if this happiness stems from finding happiness with the person he’s in love with. All I know for sure is that I didn’t cause this change, even though I wish I had.

I just stand there staring at him, neither offering him a greeting nor asking him to come in. Finally, I simply take a step back, leaving him just enough room to step inside.

I turn towards the living room, trying to find the words to ask him where he’s been but not sure I want to know the answer. I don’t sit down and neither does he. He’s still wearing a smile, but it isn’t as powerful as before.

“Where have you been?” I ask, wanting to break the silence with something. Also, this allows him to tell me whatever he wants to without me having to ask anything specific.

“At home mostly. I needed some time to think.”

“What about?” I can’t help but be curious.

“My past. My future. My father. You.”

“Oh.” He was probably thinking about how much he regretted trying to kiss me. “We can just forget what happened. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was the wrong time to try to do that, but I felt like this weight had been lifted from my shoulders after talking to my father. And I still feel that way. I feel free, and I haven’t felt this way in such a long time. I just wanted to share that with you, and I’m sorry for being drunk when I showed up here.”

I shake my head. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not. I’ve dumped so much on you, and I want to thank you for everything.”

It’s beginning to sound like a goodbye, but I don’t want him to go. I want him to stay, but I can’t be the thing that’s holding him back.

“It’s no problem, Simon. I will always be here for you.”

A strange expression crosses his face, but it isn’t a bad one. He looks thoughtful but also something else that I can’t quite name.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he takes a step closer to me. And then another. He moves until he’s right in front of me, and I don't move away.

“Baz,” He whispers, and when his eyes meet mine, my knees go weak, and I have to reach for his arm to keep myself steady.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

I swear my heart nearly stops. With how close we are, there is no doubt about what he wanted to do, but I’m still confused.

“What about the girl you’re in love with?”

He frowns at me, brows crinkling adorably. Everything about him is adorable.

“What girl?”

“The other night, you said you told your father that you found love.”

“I never said it was a girl.”

“Oh.” Then, I want to say it again because oh.

I didn’t think it was possible for him to feel the same way about me. Even when I thought it was a possibility, I never truly believed it. I was always afraid that he was going to find someone else to spend his nights with, and I wouldn’t see him anymore. Now, he’s telling me what I’ve always wanted to hear, and I don’t know what to do.

I know what I want to do, but what if I do it wrong? What if I misunderstood him? Just because he wants to kiss me and it’s not a girl he was talking about, doesn’t mean that I’m the guy.

(I want to be the guy.)

I still haven’t said anything else, and neither has he. He looks like he wants to flee. I know that look well. I’ve seen it so many times before. But I don’t want him to go.

My hand is still on his arm, and I use my hold on him to pull him closer to me so that we’re standing chest-to-chest. My hand is shaking slightly, but I want this.

I lean towards him, and he meets me half-way, our lips pressing together softly.

I sigh and lean into him, letting him wrap his arm around me as he presses his lips more firmly against mine. This kiss is everything that I imagined it to be and so much more.

When we pull away, I can’t seem to stop smiling. I never thought I’d get this particular happiness, but here we are. And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but with him.

“It’s New Year’s Day,” He says quietly, his hand stroking down my back.

I hadn’t noticed. Honestly, I’d spent the last few days worrying about him, and it was like time was moving so slowly. I glance at the clock, and he’s right. It’s just after midnight.

They say that whatever you’re doing at midnight on New Year’s Eve is what you’ll be doing for the rest of the year.

I wouldn’t mind doing this for the rest of the year. Kissing Simon. That sounds like a great year.

I smile at him. “So, it is.” Then I kiss him again.

If I’m going to kiss him for the rest of the year, I might as well start now.

#snowbaz #snowbaz fanfiction #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #carry on #wayward son #rainbow rowell #my writing #my door is always open to you

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gigglegirl77 · 5 years

Text

Kiss Me

Word Online

Kiss Me

pairing: Chris Evans x reader

warnings: language? Nothing else...pure cheese

word count: 1,331

Prompt: Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Star’s Marvel Playlist writing challenge!

Notes: I’m a terrible writing but I love writing so I guess I'll get better with time?

You had been waiting for over an hour in line to meet Chris Evans. It was a fluke that he was even going to show up in your town. You picked up extra shifts at work to afford the tickets for the meet and greet. Now the day had arrived, and time was not on your side. The clock was slowly ticking towards your departure time and you still hadn’t come face to face with the man of your dreams.

“Hey Ali, I think I’m gonna have to take off”, you sigh, exasperated at the line in front of you.

“Y/N, we are so close, I think I can see him!”, Alli responds.

You look up and sure enough, you catch a glimpse at his face, quickly making eye contact before someone steps in front of you breaking your gaze.

“I can’t be late for work and I know there’s going to be traffic. Here, take these and tell him I said hi!”, you reply, handing Alli the cookies you had painstakingly crafted. Giving her a quick hug and a wave in the general direction of Chris, you make your way out of the line and head to off to the hospital.

It was a slow shift at the hospital. Only one inpatient and the ED was pretty dead. Nothing out of the ordinary. You get a call from the front office.

“Y/N, you have a delivery up here”, Anna said.

“From who? What is it?”, you ask.

“Oh, I think you should come and see for yourself” she replies.

“Ugh, ok. I'll be there in a minute”, you sigh.

“The sooner the better”, she responds.

Walking up to the front of building, you see flowers as you open the door before stepping into the lobby. “Who delivers flowers after 10pm?” you question walking around the corner.

The person holding the flowers turns and gives you a smile.

“Uhm, I guess I do,” he says.

You immediately stop in your tracks. Standing not 5 feet in front of you is Chris Evans.

“What are you doing here?”, you question him.

“Well. I met your friend and she told me that you had to work so I thought I’d come meet you since you couldn’t stay and meet me”, he replied.

“But like what are you doing here?”, you repeat, still in disbelief. “Am I hallucinating? Anna, do you see him too?” you question.

He laughs and walks towards you, handing you the flowers. “I promise I’m real. No hallucinations right now at least.”

“Oh my god! I can’t believe you’re here and I was so rude. I’m so sorry”, you gush.

“Hey, its ok. I knew it was going to be a surprise when I showed up. Not rude at all. Do you have time to visit?” he asked you.

Just then, a call light went off and you wrinkled your nose up, “actually no, I don’t have the time now, but I can meet you for breakfast?” you offer.

“I can probably do that. What time? Where?” he questioned.

“Uhm 7:45am and let me write down the address,” you say, reaching for a piece of paper and a pen.

You hand him the paper; your fingers graze his and you feel a jolt of electricity. “Yikes! Static electricity! I’ll see you in the morning” you smile and say.

He smiles and says, “Til the morning” and walks out the doors to his waiting car.

“Did that just happen!?!?” you ask Anna.

“Yes! and he is so hot!”

“I know! I can’t believe that just happened. Do you think I can get a copy of the security tape as evidence?”

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s what it’s for. But hey, at least you have the flowers!”

There rest of the night flew by and soon you were on your way home. You had given Chris your address with the intent of making him breakfast.

You make it home and get changed into soft plaid pajama pants and an old t-shirt before heading back to the kitchen to start making breakfast. You pull out bacon and stuff to make pancakes. You grab your phone, opening your Pandora app and settling on your 90s playlist. You start mixing together the ingredient for pancakes, humming along to Dreams by the Cranberries.

You slide the bacon in the oven and start on the pancakes. Your doorbell rings and you quickly run to it. You open the door and shiver as the cold air blows in.

“Hi”

“Hey. You don’t look ready for breakfast?” Chris states.

“Well, I thought since I have to be back at work tonight, I’d make us a quick breakfast here and we could hang out before I have to go to bed”, you explain.

“Ok. What’s for breakfast?” he asked.

“Oh shit! The pancakes!” you yell and run back to the kitchen.

The pancakes were burnt and smoking on the griddle. You quickly scrape them into the trash and wipe the pan off.

“I’m so sorry. I’m usually a better cook.”

“No need to apologize. As long as you don’t give me food poisoning, we should be fine. Want some help?”

“No, I think I’ve got it. I promise no food poisoning. How about you grab a drink? Water, milk, juice and anything else you can think of is in the fridge. The cups are in the cabinet” you say, pointing to the cabinet.

A new song starts playing, Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer. You start to sing along as you flip pancakes. You turn to grab a plate and bump into Chris. He grabs your waist to steady you.

“I didn’t realize you were so close” you say grabbing on to his forearm.

“I wanted to hear you sing.”

You blush furiously and roll your eyes. He reaches over and grabs your hands, holding them in his, “It was cute. I enjoyed seeing you get lost in what you were doing.”

You laugh. “You know what would be even better?” you ask.

“What?”

“If you took the advice from the song.”

“Oh yeah? And what would that be exactly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow

You step closer to him and look up into his eyes and sing along with the song,

“Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance silvermoon’s sparkling,

So, kiss me”

He slides his hand up your arm and shoulder to cup your neck, rubbing his thumb across your cheek.

“You really want me to kiss you?”

“More than I want to breathe right now”, you reply shakily

He laughs, running his thumb across your bottom lip. You kiss the pad of his thumb. You hear a low moan in his throat as he pulls you against him and presses his lips to yours. Sucking on your bottom lip before sinking his teeth in. You melt against him, your hands sliding up his back, pulling him closer to you.

His body pressed tight against yours as he angles you against the counter. His tongue sliding against yours as his hands roam across your body.

He grips your hips and swiftly picks you up and sits you on the counter in front of him.

You pull him tight against you, running your fingers through his hair. He moans against your lips, his hands sliding under your shirt and up your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“What is that smell?”, you hear from the living room.

You quickly pull away from Chris to turn and see your roommate Alli.

You quickly turn and see smoke coming from the oven.

“Oh shit! The bacon!”

#star's marvel playlist #writing challenge #Chris Evans #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #kiss me #six pence none the richer

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catch22inareddress · 5 years

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Kismet

Della Fontaine is the typical girl next door. Fresh from North Carolina and coming to the Big Apple for the change of scenery. However, her next door neighbor, Sebastian, is the opposite of her. Outgoing, handsome, popular, with a twinge of heartbreaker lurking around his soft edges.

His ex is the epitome of everything she’s not. A model, vicious to the core, and willing to go to extremes to make sure that Sebastian’s sees Della for what she isn’t. Her.

What happens when neighbors become friends while trying to ignore the chemistry between them? Will the stars keep pushing them together or will it all come crashing down?

Chapter One: Designed by Destiny

1. Fate; a predetermined or unavoidable destiny.

I never believed in fate or kismet or whatever the hell you want to call actions or consequences that makeup one's life. It's arduous to think that no matter what you do, no matter what decision you made you will end up at the exact same point because it was by fate's design. I've made selfless choices and been a reasonable person in hopes that the next person would pay it forward, not to benefit myself or my situation. Other times, I've been selfish and made a decision only to help myself, I'm human. Yet, none of these choices that I have ever made hurt anyone.

Every break up I've ever had has been amicable. Although, it probably helped that it lacked in all things passion and was more practical than anything else.

The reason I'm currently mulling over my belief in kismet is the fact that my very handsome and recently unattached neighbor is doing pull-ups from his balcony while I'm pretending to read my book.

While I could say that me choosing to sell all of my belongings and leaving all of my friends behind in North Carolina to move to New York was just an arbitrary decision. That this building that my new boss just happened to need to sublet was a fluke when I had no place set up to live. I could also say that the fact that my neighbor being non-other than Sebastian Stan, the walking lady boner, was just pure luck and nothing else.

Kismet? Luck? At this point, do I really care? Not particularly. He's single, sure. However, let's be realistic. I'm not like his last drop dead modelesque Brazilian style girlfriend. I'm the girl next door type who works mostly from home as a graphic designer who decided that for whatever reason, wanted to work closer to the actual office when I don't EVER go into said office. Him just being single means I don't feel guilty for eye diddling him from the next balcony.

I've been here for a few months and still haven't gotten used to his god-like perfection. I keep thinking that staring at him more will help with that but ...no, not yet. Like many other women, I am not immune to his charms. At our first encounter, I nearly was a stuttering mess of goo all over the floor. The mere recollection of it makes me turn shades of pink.

3 months ago:

"Hmm, box number 5?" I said looking for my mailbox. The numbers were worn off even though the building was newly renovated and in near pristine condition.

I spotted it and inserted the key, but it got stuck to my dismay. "Seriously?" As I grunted and tugged at the key, I heard a girlish giggle from behind me.

"Have you never worked a mailbox before?" I turned to see this 5'10'' model that was apparently a mean girl in school. I gave her my best smile despite myself.

"I have, but it would seem the ones in New York are sooo different from North Carolina....and I just can't figure it out." I drew out my southern accent for effect.

Just as I said it a broad-shouldered man with a baseball cap came around the corner chuckling at my statement, while his girl toy was huffing at my sarcastic remark. To be frank, I was surprised she even picked up on the sarcasm. "Not funny, Sebby."

He shrugged. "Funny, especially because you were being rude, Sophia." Hmmm. Sophia. Sounds exotic. As soon as my eyes meet his bright blue orbs, all my snark went straight back to the Carolina's in a handbasket. "H-Hi."

He held out his hand. "Sebastian. We're neighbors. This is my girlfriend. Sophia. I apologize for her manners, she can help it, but she chooses not to."

My slack jaw must've thrown him off because he just smirked and stared at me. I managed to garner some of my wits back, yay for womanhood everywhere. "Well, that sounds like a personal problem. I'm sure she'll do great things in life.." He smiled as we both took in her making funny faces at her selfie camera. He grunted out a sarcastic yea as I tried to hide my snicker.

He reached over my shoulder while I held my breath wondering what in the good gravy he was doing. Unfortunately, he didn't grab a lock of my hair and gently put it behind my ear, he did do the next best thing. At least, that's what I will keep telling myself. He grabbed the key that was currently within the grips of hell, otherwise known as my antique mailbox.

He laughed while he gently tried not to manhandle the government's property while I ogled him and his primadonna princess stared at her snapchat and took selfies behind us. "All the boxes get stuck occasionally. You have to pull the key out just a bit, then turn." I tried to hold my breath versus breathing the scent of him in. All woodsy pine and pure deliciousness. "Ah. Thank you for letting me in on the building secret. And here I thought I would have to move." He instantly frowned.

"Now we can't have that, neighbor. The last woman that lived here was a wallbanger and kept me up most nights." Had I been drinking the pretentious drink that his girl was drinking, I would've spewed it all over his preposterously handsome face.

"Sorry, wallbanger? Loud?" He chuckled while Sophia cleared her throat showing her readiness to leave. Slowly, the three of us made our way to the elevator while she remained transfixed on her social media app. I couldn't help but think that if this were my man, I would put my phone in the sink disposal for more talk time with him, yet here she was squandering precious minutes. Like they say, 'One man's trash is another man's treasure.'

He blushed a bit before continuing his explanation. "Yea. She had a few boyfriends throughout the few years she lived here. But man was she noisy, the walls aren't thick just so you know. Our beds are on the same one, and her frame would knock the wall and wake me up. I was sooo happy when she moved." I couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled up from within my noticeably smaller chest. Damn Sophia and her genetics....or surgeon.

"Well, that's just fantastic. I'm never gonna look at my boss the same way." He looked at me with his brow furrowed. "Oh, I'm subletting from her. She's..my boss." He let out this heartstopping laughter that made my cheeks hurt I smiled so hard. I probably looked like the Chesire Cat just got a catnip toy, but I didn't care. I risked a glance at Sophia, and she seemed annoyed at his larger than life presence and laughter. He held his stomach as his laughter quieted down.

"That is rich. Please, tell me how that goes." The elevator came to a stop on our floors, and he gestured for Sophia and me to get off before him. I walked past him to go to my door and looked back after he let her inside. He spoke a bit softer to my surprise.

"Sorry about her. She's...well nevermind. Just sorry. But hey, don't be a stranger." I smiled as I tried and failed miserably to be casual and missed my door, nearly falling into my apartment. Sebastian, thankfully, stifled his laughter and only smiled at my clumsiness. "Thanks, but I don't want the fake nails to come out. Oh! That was mean. I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "No worries. What's your name, Carolina?" I smiled. "Della, Della Fontaine." He went closer into his apartment. "Sebastian Stan. Nice to meet you, Della Fontaine."

Present:

He was the most genuine person I had met since coming to New York. Well, his whole crew was pretty straightforward, to be fair. He took me under his wing and showed me the best food trucks and places to gorge myself properly.

"Hey, Della!" He ripped me from my thoughts as he threw a pen at my head from his balcony, missing me entirely but scaring my cat Hagrid. Sebastian yelled out a sorry to the beautiful Maine Coon as he skirted inside to find sanctity.

"You shouldn't throw things, Seb. Last time you pegged Will, and it poked Chris in the eye. Not even sure how that happened." He shrugged and wiped the sweat off his brow while leaning on the railing; naturally, I ogle. I give good ogle.

"What are you doin' tonight, Carolina?" I put my book down, sitting up and shrugging. "I'm suupppooossseee to be setting up my dating profile, but if someone dangles a twinkie in front of me with better plans, I'm game. By better plans I mean laundry, grocery shopping, moving, even driving you to the airport." He frowned but then smiled at my ridiculousness.

"You can't do online dating in New York. So I will definitely rope you in on something better." He stood up stretching. Was he purposely trying to torture the women and me across the street? I know at least two of them have binoculars. One of which is his ex. Yep. Different story, another time.

"First, thank you for whatever plans you have pre-emptively made for me. Second, why can't I date online in New York?" I stood up and wandered over to my side of the balcony to be closer to him.

He gave me his famous, "Are you serious?" look, like that was going to provide me with allll the answers to the universe. My rebuttal was a challenging, yet mature, raising of the eyebrows.

"Alright, you want me to say it? You're too sweet and good, the girl next door. Wallstreet will devour you. Which means you'll have to bail me out for kicking the douchebags ass for hurting you." Part of me jumped for joy at the thought of my very own knight in shining armor, but then the nail in my coffin came.

"Look, if you really wanna date someone. I can set you up." What's that? Oh sure. I love roses on my headstone. Red, please.

I cleared my throat and tried to sound sprightly. "Only if I get to screen them like online dating can. I don't want to be set up with your dry cleaner or shoe repair guy. Not when you have people like Evans in your arsenal of friends. Not sayin' Evan's would go for a girl like me, just don't set me up with a dumpy loser or I'll cut you. Or at the very least jump on my bed all night long."

He narrowed his eyes, daring my sauciness. "You wouldn't." I nodded. "Oh, one bad date and trust me, I would. Chose wisely." As I turned to sashay into my flat. "Text me my plans tonight, so I know what to wear."

I felt like I won this round as I looked back at the playful glint in his baby blues.

The strikethroughs below didn’t work so head on over to the tag list and take a peek or make corrections.

Feel free to add yourself or comment below!!! Tag list: LINK

PLEASE COMMENT AND MY ASK BOX IS ALWAYS OPEN. I’M A LOVER OF ALL MY READERS SO FEEL FREE TO HIT ME UP ANYTIME!!! THANK YOU!!!

Forever: @ssweet-empowerment @shynara51 @loislp @dragonselene @frozenhuntress67 @shorteststories97 @haru-ririchiyo @sabr-n @hothornymetalkinkygirl @kaelamarissa @m-a-t-91 @whyyougottabesorudee @you-be-mad-bitch @goalie-love @moodygrip @myersge @slytherin-in-hufflepuff-robes @pvnk-bivch @peaceinourtime82 @just4muggles @darrkshhhadow @zlixlle @tacohead13 @9769997118 @afacelessgirlinthecrowd @killerbumblebee @helloitsmeamie203 @buttercupbandit @heidimonkey @violetrose90201 @nishanki1 @mrs-meghan-winchester @thejourneyneverendsx @coffeebooksandfandom @scuzmunkie @shallowshawn @booksbeforebois @wonderlandfandomkingdom @extremelydyingontheinside @cheeseburgermikey @nerdypinupcrystal @strangersstranger

Sebastian Stan: @guera31 @irishwaffle @hiddlestonstansworld @mcdesij @marvelsvalhalla @sebstanwintersoldier27 @sj-thefan

#Sebastian Stan #sebastianstan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian imagine #fluff #romance #reader #sebastian stan reader #love #friends to lovers #stalker #crazyex #imagine #miniseries #kismet

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gimme-more-caffeine · 5 years

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This is from my old blog, I honestly LOVE lists (and writing in bullets for some strange reason). Random and sporadic on topics and the numbers have NO MEANING. I'm NOT ordering them from most fave to least fave, just how they come to mind.

Also keynotes: Favorites doesn't always mean Favorites just what I enjoy the most. And there will be duplication at times

(Side note: Let's update this list from before as it's been two years and see what has changed. * means updated)

-Me- (Just little stuff I figured I'd do. Wasn't even supposed to be a list XD) 1. I'm a Major Introvert, I don't like to socialize with others in real life and prefer to do so online 2. I'm a major procrastinator 3. I mainly work nights so I get to sleep during the day 4. I want to make more friends online yet I have a hard time reaching out. The last time I interacted online was on DeviantArt and FFN years ago 5. I'm pretty much online all day/night on my nights off 6. Eye doctors have told me I have a rare blue-grey-green hazel (Is it true that it’s rare I don’t know) eyes so they tend to change between these three colors or be a mixture at times. Lately I think my eyes are just grey which takes on different green and/or blue shades

-Books-

Favorite Authors 1. Nora Roberts/JD Robb 2. Jayne Ann Krentz/Jayne Castle/Amanda Quick 3. Gena Showalter (I mainly read her Lords of the Underworld series and only read one book that wasn't part of this series so she's not getting a Favorite list sadly) 4. Anna Windsor (I've only read one series of hers so I'm not including her in the books list) 5. Christine Feehan* (I mainly only like one of her series so she's not listed)

Favorite Series from Nora Roberts 1. Bride Quartet 2. McKade Brothers 3. In the Garden Trilogy 4. Dream Trilogy 5. Three Sisters Island Trilogy 6. Key Trilogy 7. Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy 8. The Donovan Legacy

Favorite Books from In Death (Limiting myself up to Ten) 1. Divided in Death (My first ever In Death book so it holds a strong place in my heart) 2. Innocent in Death 3. Memory in Death 4. Visions in Death 5. Imitation in Death 6. Conspiracy in Death 7. Strangers in Death 8. Treachery in Death 9. New York to Dallas 10. Creation in Death

Favorite Books from Nora Roberts (Limiting myself to Fifteen) 1. Black Hills 2. The Obsession 3. The Witness 4. Carnal Innocence 5. River's End 6. Tribute 7. Carolina Moon 8. Birthright 9. Three Fates 10. The Liar 11. The Search 12. The Villa 13. Angels Fall 14. Time Was 15. Times Change

Favorite Books from Jayne Ann Krentz 1. All Night Long (The first I ever Read and thus holds a special place in my heart) 2. Sizzle and Burn 3. Running Hot 4. In Too Deep 5. Copper Beach 6. Trust No One 7. River Road 8. Witch Craft 9. White Lies 10. Light in Shadow

Favorite Books from Amanda Quick 1. The Third Circle 2. The Perfect Poison 3. Second Sight 4. Crystal Gardens 5. The Mystery Woman 6. Quicksilver 7. The River Knows

Favorite Books from Jayne Castle 1. Obsidian Prey 2. Dark Light 3. The Lost Night 4. Midnight Crystal 5. Canyons of Night

Favorite NON-Romance Books 1. Hope was Here 2. Z for Zacharia 3. Lord of the Flies (Yes, I actually like the chaos that happened. I'm probably messed up for that) 4. The Other Boleyn Girl 5. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (The ONLY book I like from the Harry Potter series) 6. 13 Reasons Why (I deeply enjoy the book and read during my teens) 7. By These Ten Bones 8. The Giver 9. Lovely Bones

-Disney/Animated Movies-

Favorite "Popular" Disney Movies 1. Mulan 2. Zootopia 3. Big Hero 6 4. Tarzan 5. The Lion King 6. 101 Dalmations 7. Bambi 8. Pocahontas 9. The Princess and the Frog 10. Frozen 11. The Little Mermaid 12. Lilo and Stitch 13. Lady and the Tramp 14. The Hunchback of Notre Dame 15. The Nightmare Before Christmas (Yes this is Disney as Tim Burton worked for them during this time. I checked to make sure)

Favorite "Underrated" Disney Movies 1. Treasure Planet 2. Oliver and Company 3. Atlantis: The Lost Empire 4. Home on the Range 5. The Black Cauldron 6. The Sword in the Stone 7. Hercules 8. Meet the Robinsons 9. Emporer's New Groove 10. Robin Hood 11. A Goofy Movie 12. The Fox and the Hound 13. Aristocats 14. James and the Giant Peach (Yes this is considered Disney, I checked) 15. The Rescuers 16. Descendents 17. Brother Bear 18. Dinosaur

Favorite Sequels 1. Mulan 2 (Yes I like this when everyone seems to hate this) 2. Lion King 2 3. Cinderella 3 (I consider this to be an actual sequel, the other one felt more like short stories) 4. Beauty and the Beast: An Enchanted Christmas 5. Bambi 2 6. The Fox and the Hound 2 7. The Rescuer's Down Under 8. Aladdin and The King of Thieves 9. Pocahontas 2 10. 101 Dalmatians 2 11. Lady and the Tramp 2: Scamp's Adventure 12. An Extremely Goofy Movie

Favorite Series (Expect this one to be long and I'm including Jetix too) 1. The House of Mouse 2. Dinosaurs (I never even knew this!) 3. Bill Nye the Science Guy (SERIOUSLY, This guy was DISNEY?!) 4. Duck Tales 5. Gargoyles 6. TaleSpin 7. Darkwing Duck 8. Quack Pack 9. Timon and Pumba 10. 101 Dalmations 11. Recess 12. Hercules 13. PB&J Otter 14. Teacher's Pet 15. Filmore! 16. Disney's Mighty Ducks 17. The Legend of Tarzan 18. Kim Possible 19. Pucca 20. Lilo and Stitch: The Series 21. Super Robot Monkey Team Hyper Force Go! 22. W.I.T.C.H. 23. American Dragon: Jake Long 24. Yin Yang Yo! 25. Descendents: Wicked World

Favorite NON-Disney Movies 1. Anastasia 2. All Dogs go to Heaven 2 3. Spirit: Stallion of the Cimmaron 4. American Tail 2: Fivel Goes West 5. Prince of Egypt 6. The Last Unicorn 7. The Secret of NIMH 8. Wakko's Wish 9. Quest for Camelot 10. Balto 11. The Pebble and the Penguin 12. South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut 13. Scooby Doo on Zombie Island 14. Scooby Doo and the Witch's Ghost 15. The Land Before Time V: The Mysterious Island

-Youtube-

Youtubers/Channels I mainly watch (Limiting myself to Ten): 1. MLP-Silver-Quill 2. Night Mind* 3. Rekaita Law* (Hey it's entertaining as hell and I love watching him rant) 4. FoundFlix* 5. joshscorcher 6. FOB Equestria 7. That Creepy Reading* 8. Top5s 9. The Theorizer 10. SuperHorrorBro*

Generalization of what I watch on Youtube 1. Let's Plays 2. Song Covers 3. MLP Analysis stuff (NOT the series, only the analysis community) 4. Horror/Paranormal/Urban Legend stuff 5. Movie/Game Theories 6. Anime/Movie parodies 7. Horror Explanations (Movies and video games lately)* 8. Abridged Shows/Parodies

-Music-

Favorite Disney Movie Songs/Scores (As in IN the movie, Credit songs don't count unless they're the same song as in the movie. LONG LIST AHEAD) 1. Hellfire - Hunchback of Notre Dame 2. Why Should I Worry - Oliver and Company 3. I'm Still Here - Treasure Planet 4. Colors of the Wind - Pocahontas 5. Savages - Pocahontas 6. Make a Man out of You - Mulan 7. What's this? - Nightmare before Christmas 8. This is Halloween - Nightmare before Christmas 9. Court of Miracles - Hunchback of Notre Dame 10. You'll be in My Heart - Tarzan 11. Son of Man - Tarzan 12. Strangers Like Me - Tarzan 13. Farewell - Pocahontas 14. Short Hair - Mulan 15. Eye to Eye - A Goofy Movie 16. Stand Out - A Goofy Movie 17. After Today - A Goofy Movie 18. Topsy Turvy - Hunchback of Notre Dame 19. Try Everything - Zootopia 20. I Wanna be Like Other Girls - Mulan 2 21. Good Doggy, No Bone - Fox and the Hound 2 22. Lesson Number One - Mulan 2

Favorite Disney Covers 1. Hellfire - Jonathan Young 2. Can You Feel the Love Tonight - Elton John (Yes I see that as a cover as it's not the one from the movie but the credits) 3. Can You Feel the Love Tonight - Sara Paxton 4. Hawaiian Roller Coaster - Penicillin 5. Heigh-Ho - CASCADE 6. Supercalifragilisticexpialadotious - THE KIDDIE (Hope I spelt the song right... It's too damn long) 7. This is Halloween - Marilyn Manson 8. Kiss the Girl - Ashley Tisdale 9. You'll be in my Heart - Celtic Woman 10. Be Prepared - Jonathan Young* (Jonathan Young covers a lot of Disney songs I like so I'll leave it at that instead of listing all the covers I like)

Favorite Parody Songs 1. Brooklyn Rage - YGOTAS (Yu-Gi-Oh: The Abridged Series) Parodying: Poker Face by Lady Gaga 2. Pharaoh's Throne - YGOTAS Parodying: Telephone by Lady Gaga 3. Make a Man out of You - DBZAbridge 4. Leather Pants - YGOTAS Parodying: Bad Romance by Lady Gaga 5. U Can't Touch Lani - Lanipator Parodying: U Can't Touch This 6. Without Yugi - YGOTAS Parodying: Without Me by Eminem 7. Paraboss - YGOTAS BBT Movie Parodying: ??? by ??? (Someone told me it was Lady Gaga's Paraboss song but I can't find that) 8. Stronger - YGOTAS BBT Movie Parodying Harder, Better, Faster Stronger by Daft Punk 9. It's Your Move - YGOTAS Parodying: Tik Tok by Ke$ha

Genres I listen to 1. 80s 2. Different forms of Rock (Alternative, Symphonic, Metal, etc) 3. Anime Music 4. Disney Songs (Usually more from the movies) 5. Dance/Techno 6. Covers/Remixes

-Movies-

Favorite Movies (Limiting myself up to Fifty) 1. Titanic 2. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Again, the only movie I liked from the Harry Potter franchise) 3. Avatar (Yes I know this was like 95% CGI but it still had physical people in it so I'm not putting it in CGI category) 4. Jumanji 5. Fluke 6. Godzilla (98. This is my FAVORITE Godzilla movie. I just loved the design of Godzilla and the animated show that came as a result) 7. Alice in Wonderland (Tim Burton's version. I'm probably one of the few who enjoyed this) 8. SPEED 9. 13 Ghosts 10. Ghost Ship 11. Poseidon (The one from the 2000s) 12. Flight 93 13. United 93 14. World Trade Center 15. Iron Jawed Angels 16. How the Grinch Stole Christmas 17. Matilda 18. Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (A classic that shall never die) 19. Beetlejuice 20. The Dark Knight 21. Home Alone 3 22. Deadpool 23. Casper 24. Addams Family Values 25. The Hollow 26. Jurassic World 27. Dragon Heart (I cry like a bitch during the ending) 28. Angels in the Outfield 29. The Mask 30. Hocus Pocus 31. Mortal Kombat 32. The Grinch (2018 version)*

Favorite CGI and Claymation movies (Because I can't tell the difference between the two. And the CGI is for ALL Computer generation and WITHOUT physical people. This includes DreamWorks) 1. Rise of the Guardians 2. Megamind 3. Corpse Bride 4. Final Fantasy 7: Advent Children 5. James and the Giant Peach 6. Nightmare Before Christmas 7. Coraline 8. Dinosaur 9. Shrek 2 10. Kung Fu Panda 2 11. Sherman and Mr. Peabody

-Anime-

Animes I like before finding out they were Anime 1. Oban Star Racers 2. Shinzo

Favorite Animes (Limiting myself up to Thirty) 1. Kuroko no Basket 2. Fruits Basket 3. Yu-Gi-Oh 4. Yu Yu Hakusho 5. Samurai Deeper Kyo 6. Bleach 7. Gravitation 8. Junjo Romantica 9. Sekai-Ichi Hatsukoi 10. Princess Tutu 11. Slayers 12. Supernatural the Anime 13. Free! 14. Persona 4 15. Digimon 16. Inuyasha 17. Pokemon 18. Case Closed

Favorite NON-Animes (That can pass for anime style, at least what I think could pass) 1. Teen Titans (Not that shit Teen Titans Go) 2. Avatar the Last Airbender (I have not seen Korra. Also on a side note, this used to be in the anime section on Fanfiction.net when it first came out) 3. Samurai Jack 4. Ben 10 - Ben 10 Omniverse (Basically I mean anything BEFORE Ben 10 Omniverse) 5. Generator Rex 6. Powerpuff Girls Z 7. Code Lyoko

Favorite Voice Actors (Doing Japanese and English since I know very few XD Forgive my spelling errors) 1. Todd Haberkorn 2. Dan Greene 3. Johnny Yong Bosch 4. Vic Mignogna 5. Daisuke Namikawa 6. Konishi Katsuyuki 7. Romi Park 8. Yuri Lowenthral 9. Steve Staley 10. Cam Clarke 11. Greg Ayers* 12. Jerry Jewell 13. Eric Vale 14. Dave Wittenberg* 15. Tara Strong

-Mythology/Supernatural

Favorite Myths 1. The Jersey Devil 2. Hades/Persephone Myth

Favorite NON-Humanoid Magical/Mythical/Supernatural Creatures 1. Unicorn 2. Qilin/Krilin 3. Dragon 4. Cerberus (I can't find the official name) 5. The Jersey Devil 6. Perryton 7. Pegasus

Favorite Humanoid Magical/Mythical/Supernatural Creatures 1. Mermaid 2. Harpy 3. Centaur 4. Siren (Both winged and finned kinds)

-Random/One Category stuff-

Favorite Comedians 1. Gabriel Iglesias 2. Jeff Dunham 3. Bill Engvall 4. Jeff Foxworthy

Favorite Animals 1. Cats 2. Foxes 3. Wolves 4. Dogs 5. Ferrets* 6. Stoats* 7. Bats*

Favorite Foods 1. Buffalo Chicken Pizza (No Bleu Cheese, ONLY RANCH) 2. Beef Fajitas 3. Crunchwrap Supreme (I love Taco Bell!!) 4. Triple Chocolate Cake

Favorite Drinks 1. Peach Tea Snapple 2. Cherry Coke/Pepsi 3. Shirley Temple 4. Pure Leaf Unsweetened Tea 5. Strawberry Lemonade 6. Cherry Lemonade 7. Pure Leaf Peach Tea 8. Pure Leaf Fuji Apple Ginger Tea 9. Pure Leaf Cherry Hibiscus Tea*

#my stuff #my lists #lists

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justaradraddish · 2 years

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i think i’m a lesbian. I came to this realization not even 24 hours ago so i could be completely wrong and i probably sound ridiculous but a lot of things would make sense (while a lot of other things wouldn’t make sense.) let me explain. so i’ve pretty much always known i’m fruity, i’ve identified as bisexual since the 5th grade, now i’m a senior in high school just weeks away from graduating so i’d say that’s a pretty long time to identify with something. my very first relationship was in 6th grade with someone who at the time identified as a girl (i’m still friends with them to this day, they’re pretty swaggy) and i was in love with them, if they hadn’t moved to new york i think we could’ve made it work but that’s an entirely different conversation. so what i’m getting at is from the get go i’ve been attracted to those of the female variety. i’ve had a few girlfriends over the years but none of them have ever been extremely serious. all of them have lasted under a month so i don’t even know if they count but whatever. anyways, the reason why i think i might be wrong about my new found lesbianism is the fact that i’ve dated and talked to a lot of guys. like i was obsessed with this one dude for well over a year, i’m pretty sure lesbians aren’t attracted to men last time i checked lmao. but the thing is i have never had the desire to sleep with men (other than the one dude but he was a fluke and an asshole and also was in 2019-2020) i had even identified as a lesbian for a short period of time between boyfriends in 2019, then the asshole claimed he turned me straight which couldn’t be further from the truth. i also talk to a lot of men online but as soon as the conversation gets slightly sexual i run for the hills. i cannot tell you the amount of men i’ve ghosted once they say something remotely sexual. i have never slept with anyone btw, yes i am an 18 year old virgin (that’s definitely not my biggest flex) because i have never wanted to sleep with anyone. even when i’ve had girlfriends i’ve never really been sexual BUT i watch lesbian porn. it is extremely rare that i will watch straight porn and actually get off to it. what i’m getting to is; i think i’m an asexual or aromantic lesbian. i don’t know how to tell anyone this since i’ve been calling myself bisexual for so fucking long, literally 7 years. what if i’m wrong? what if i’m right? this entire post was a mess. i’m a mess. i’m tired. goodnight.

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aro-aizawa · 6 years

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BHAF Survey

okay so, since i’m rewriting this fic now would be a perfect opportunity to get you guys’ input on what you think needs to be improved in the fic. there are a huge number of parts of the fic that i’m constantly unsure about and wondering if i should retcon out of it, or should be adjusted. things that potentially should be included earlier, or not. and what better way to do that other than a survey?

i would use one of those online survey sites to do it but at the same time, i wouldn’t really be free to explain a few points. so! im gonna do this in the form of this post with links to separate strawpoll questions. the draw back is that i can’t get accurate things like “if x then why did you feel that, write below”. which....kinda sucks so i guess if you wanna complete that then send me an ask or message or hmu on my discord or smth. i can’t really figure out a better way? if you know one then let me know. anyways, if you guys could answer the questions then i would much appreciate it! it’ll be below the cut to spare people’s dashes because the explanations will be long. apologies in advance to mobile users.

you also don’t technically have to read the explanation if you want to get through this quick (i won’t blame you i ramble a lot) but for the most accurate response, please do. but keep in mind, that i will be needing honest answers. don’t worry about sparing my feelings of you’re worried about that. i am willing to improve on anything, but first of all i need to be told what’s wrong and where i can improve. you will not offend me unless you directly insult me. criticism will never be an insult to me.

1) Should Izuku’s panic attacks be removed, occur less frequently, or only occur under specific circumstances (i.e. not the incident that occurs in chapter 11)?

Explanations: The main reason I ask this is in reference to the panic attack that Izuku has chapter eleven. I’ve always been sort of weary about it, concerned that it breaks up the flow of everything and comes practically out of nowhere. I had a few reasons for putting it in, but first and foremost it was me projecting on Izuku. I mean it’s no secret that I do that a lot, especially with me writing in my dissociation problems too. But I tend to get panic attacks a lot when I’m pressed in a huge crowd of people. I had a huge one at a busy London convention that had me shaken throughout the rest of the day, and severely wrecked my Saturday. It’s still fresh in my mind nine months later. I can’t watch that scene without feeling some form of high discomfort. So, naturally, when writing that chapter, I put it in. It’s not an ominous “what traumatic event happened for him to have that?”, sorry if I lead you to believe that.

The second reason I put it in, was actually a character moment. Right now, Uraraka and Iida have only been friends with Izuku for just a couple of days, and Izuku is quick to shrug off their concerns. And with Izuku being the kind of person who wouldn’t ask for help even if he was bleeding out, he’d probably push all his problems out of sight, so that the people closest to him don’t find out. If Uraraka and Iida don’t know about Izuku’s panic attacks, then they wouldn’t know to be concerned. So, Izuku has a panic attack right in front of them, making it impossible for him to hide them (although if he was careful he could write it off as a fluke).

BUT, that being said, I’m unsure that it was really the right time for that? I mean, as I said, they’ve only been friends for two days, which doesn’t really give Izuku any comfort in pretending to be well put together. And I’m not...really a fan of the fics that have everyone instantly adoring Izuku either. But rereading bhaf, it sort of feels...that’s how I’m writing it? I dunno man. So I’m split. Hence why I’m asking people.

2) Is the story’s tone too angsty or with lack of levity?

Explanation: Okay, for starters, I cannot for the life of me read the tone of my own writing unless I wanted it to have a specific tone. I know for a fact, that I’m good at writing moments of panic and sadness, I’ve written a lot of it over the years so that’s what I’m good at. But, there is always such thing as too much. I don’t want bhaf to be a 60k word sad-fest. That’s not what I want. Sure, angst is probably a key factor, but this story is meant to be about healing and moving on from hurt. Not just in the physical way, but mentally and emotionally. Right now, it’s gonna have some angst in it. None of the characters are close enough to outright reach out for help with their problems, Izuku especially, but that’ll probably change in the future.

My concerns are primarily with the parts where Izuku, Iida and Uraraka interact. Or how Izuku interacts with his classmates. So far, at least to me, it feels like...there’s way too much angst? Or there’s not very many moments of levity? But the thing is I’m not good at writing fluff. I’m not good at writing bonding moments, purely because of personal experiences, and my shitty memory not being able to remember how I befriended all but two of my friends (including the many friends that I’ve fallen out with/lost contact with - at least 12 over the years).

I know that inexperience isn’t an excuse, don’t take this explanation as one. I’m just explaining why there hasn’t been a pause to improve their relationship. If people think that it needs more levity, I am completely willing to go back and write a chapter that has Izuku bonding with Uraraka and Iida along with Izuku bonding with the rest of 1-A, that occurs just before USJ. I’ll push that back another couple of weeks in the canon if necessary. And considering that...let me know if you’d like to see that I have a couple of ideas already.

3) Is there any issues that you have with my characterisations?

Explanation: It’s been a while since I’ve been worried about how I characterise the characters. It used to be a big issue for me for the first few years of writing before I figured out that the key way to get over it is to stop worrying and just write. And usually I wouldn’t worry. I’m pretty confident in writing most everyone in the mha universe and there’s only ever a few that I’m worried about.

In particular, I’m the most concerned with Izuku.

Now, with Izuku I’m worried that I’m making him too weak. Because we all know that in canon, our boy is so strong mentally and physically. He endures so much, and it’s very rare to see him stumble and give up on anything. It’s one of the key reasons that I love him as a character so much, he inspires me often to get my shit together and just persevere. And rereading and going back through canon, I can’t help but feel like the bhaf version of Izuku is barely a shadow of canon. Which, is natural, there’s gotta be some canon divergence since this is an AU. But there are limits, and I’m concerned that my characterisation is lacking too much of that strength.

4) Do you have any other issues with anything in BHAF?

Explanation: Okay, so this is probably an unfair question to ask, I’m basically asking you to comment. But!! I know that I have missed a few areas that need to be improved in the fic, so if you feel that there’s a weak point in the fic, then let me know and what you think would improve it. If it fits in with my plan, then I would be more than happy to. In fact, some of my favourite changes to my future plans have come from comments people have made on my fic. It inspires me so much to hear actual feedback from people.

5) When did you first find bhaf?

6) How did you first find bhaf?

Explanation: Might as well ask this. I’ve been curious to how the hell I managed to trick 874 people to subscribe to this fic over the past eleven months. But either way, whether you started when the first chapter went up, or joined after chapter 13, or however you found this fic, I love and appreciate you so much. Thank you.

7) Which do you prefer, long chapters infrequently or shorter chapters more frequently?

Explanation: Personally, I like to write as much into a chapter as I can without going overboard. I like having long scenes and I like having at least two important points in a chapter, so it’s inevitable that I would eventually have long chapters as I have. But, I’m always more concerned with what you as readers feel. I always want to update as soon as, but I would always get so unsatisfied with chapters shorter than 5k words. So, I guess I’m curious?

and that’s it!! thanks for answering!!! you’re helping me out a lot!!

#bleeding hearts are fatal #pls help me out!

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travelwithannmoses · 4 years

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Network Marketing Business | 3 Proven Ways using the Internet to Grow Your Business

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Friends of mine, who have earned tens-of-millions of dollars in network marketing, are FINALLY starting to publicly concede that Internet-based recruiting works!

In fact, despite being “hush, hush” in most circles, it’s one of the most effective network marketing strategies ever.

Now, I’m not just talking about prospecting via social media, but actual marketing strategies as well.

“Internet marketing” simply means using online branding strategies: advertising, Facebook Pages, video blogging, email blasts, etc.

It always perplexed me that many leaders have this belief that Internet recruiting strategies are a “distraction,” especially given the fact that many top earners have gone on to build their online brands using… well… Internet marketing!

Specifically, a type of Internet marketing we call…

“Attraction Marketing,” which focuses on building a loyal following and a trusted brand online

…where people will literally buy anything you recommend because they know, like, and trust you.

Over the years, I have seen many people build successful network marketing businesses using the Internet, but since the majority of the industry still doesn’t subscribe to these Internet marketing strategies, most leaders maintain the belief that it can’t be done and refer to it often as a “distraction.”

Recently, however, I attended a private gathering of about 200 top earners (some of whom you’d know doubt recognize), were many people who had built their organizations partially or even entirely online using pretty diverse Internet strategies.

These top earners were being recognized for their success and demonstrating that network marketing can be done successfully using the Internet through a diverse number of online network marketing strategies.

And believe me, I was paying close attention to these leaders when they stood up and shared, as did everyone else.

So, in the spirit of full transparency and disclosure, I’m gonna share with you the top 3 Internet-based recruiting strategies that are being successfully used by top earners to build network marketing businesses today!

This strategy is an approach which will seem pretty familiar in network marketing. It’s prospecting but with an online twist.

Now prospecting on social media is NOT “Internet marketing,” however it still beats camping out at Walmart.

But that’s just the start.

This is the process my client Jason, who is a 7-figure producer in network marketing, teaches to his team after their warm market runs out…

1.) SEARCH

Use Facebook Search to find “Friends of Friends” who live locally (at least to start with).

There are a few reasons for doing it this way…

First of all, Facebook allows you to directly message “Friends of Friends” so that your message goes into their main inbox instead of the “Other” inbox that most people don’t even know exists.

Secondly, you start with local because it will allow you to eventually meet face-to-face with them to form a more powerful personal connection.

Given that you have no prior relationship, it’s important to meet.

2.) QUALIFY

Next, you take a minute to look at their profile and identify key interests that might resonate with you personally, your business, or your products.

You are also looking for more subtle things:

Are they smiling in their pictures?

Are they outgoing?

Do they seem to be a positive person?

Bear in mind, you are prospecting, but you are also qualifying them.

For example, an interest in Robert Kiyosaki might indicate an interest in entrepreneurship or diversified income streams.

An interest in CrossFit indicates an interest in health and wellness, and that might resonate with your company’s products.

3.) MESSAGE

Then you craft your first message to them, which believe it or not, follows a somewhat standard prospecting approach.

You can come up with a template, but each message will be tailored to them specifically. This message will mention the friends you have in common.

You mention that you’re a recruiter for a “health & wellness company” or whatever the niche is, you’re “expanding in the area,” and you ask if they are “open to earning extra money?”

As Jason described it, “You throw the ball in the air and see if they swing back at it.”

You DO NOT want to be posting copy & paste messages with links to sign up for your opportunity.

Not only is that not effective, it’s considered SPAM by Facebook and can get your account shut down and get your company in trouble too.

In this initial message, you aren’t giving them any info or links. You are simply trying to get them to express an interest.

4.) BOOK

If they “swing back,” book a face-to-face meeting, if local, or at least get them on the phone.

You just let them know that details are better explained in person and…

If we were to work together, it’s a good opportunity to see if we would like each other!

At this point, if they meet with you, hopefully, your company or upline have provided a solid process for you to follow here.

According to Jason, he and his team experience about a 30% positive response rate.

If they don’t answer back, there are some different approaches here.

Some play it safe and leave the 70% that didn’t answer back alone.

Jason is an advocate of following up with a 2nd message 4-5 days later if they don’t answer back.

The 2nd message will usually double his overall results vs only sending 1 message.

Sending a 3rd follow-up message is not recommended.

At this point, you assume a “NO” and move on. Being pushy is a sign of a bad network marketing strategy and will not fly in the online world.

But this is just the tip of the iceberg…

This process is pretty simple and depending on your personality, may or may not be great for you.

This pretty much involves posting your results on social media (i.e. setting the “mouse trap”) and waiting for people to express an interest via the comments or private message. (i.e “SNAP!!!”)

Additionally, to boost results, you can add a CALL TO ACTION to message you if they want more info.

From a ‘leading with the opportunity’ angle…

This would involve posting pictures and announcements about your ‘rags to riches’ story, income results, and the impact it’s made on your lifestyle. (Obviously, you can only do this if you’ve gotten results.)

I’ve seen people, who I know personally, deploy this strategy with great success, but I’m a person that is very wary of this approach as I can see you running into compliance or even legal problems if lots of people in your company are doing this.

I personally don’t like this angle because it can piss off your real life friends & family, but I know it can work well too because, let’s face it, most people have a desire for more income.

Alternatively, with a ‘leading with the product’ angle…

The mouse trap approach could be very powerful and usually more friend & company safe, especially if the results you are posting have to do with a personal or customer case study.

This angle will help you generate more customers and a few of those customers may express an interest in the business after they fall in love with the product.

We’ve seen this angle run rampant with weight loss challenges & case studies, which still work amazingly well, but can also work with other products if there is a clear and visible result that was produced from product use.

For example, I’ve seen people in travel businesses post pictures of their luxury vacation/trips and reveal how little they paid for that experience.

Or you can post pictures of yourself running a marathon, triathlon, or whatever that would not have been possible without certain supplements.

Essentially, show everyone connected to you on social media a desirable change in your life that was achieved in part or as a direct result of your product.

Once they express an interest, you follow whatever process you’ve been taught for closing people.

For closing offline after using strategy #1 or #2 for getting the prospect, I would recommend training by Tim Sales on presenting, closing, and enrolling new reps.

But if “closing” people is not your thing, then there’s my favorite Internet strategy for network marketing that I’ve employed in my business for the past 9 years…

This might FINALLY be the year we look at as the tipping point for when Internet marketing (i.e. passive online selling & recruiting) was finally legitimized as the powerful strategy it deserves to be recognized as in network marketing.

Remember the private gathering of 200 top earners I mentioned above?

Well, person after person stood up at the event saying they had built their businesses primarily using the Internet.

Now, if these folks were “only” 6-figure earners, the “old-schoolers” would dismiss their successes as “flukes” or “non-duplicatable.”

However, when 7-figure earners were asked to identify themselves a woman two seat from me stood up and openly said that she built online and described her strategy. (I later interviewed her to get a detailed account on what she did.)

What she outlined as the blueprint for her business was exactly a method we’ve been teaching at Elite Marketing Pro for over 10 years, which we call “attraction marketing,” taught in our FREE 10-Day Online Recruiting Bootcamp available here and published in our flagship product, Attraction Marketing Formula.

Others also stood up and shared similar approaches.

These folks didn’t message strangers templated messages online like in Strategy #1. They didn’t fill their friend’s News Feeds with promotions for an opportunity or product as in Strategy #2.

What they did was they created a truly PASSIVE way of making sure that when they woke up each morning…

They would have an inbox full of notifications letting them know that there were 10, 20, 50, or even hundreds of new prospects interested in learning more about their opportunity or product or mentorship.

Or, they would also have an inbox full of notifications of 5-10 new CUSTOMERS waiting to receive their product and excited about the possibility it holds for them.

Or, they would also have an inbox full of notifications of 5-10 new DISTRIBUTORS ready to get signed up (or possibly already signed up while you slept), waiting to be led in their new, exciting venture.

You see, just about every other type of business in the world is now using proven network marketing strategies, passive and scalable online marketing & advertising methods, in ADDITION to prospecting and referral based methods.

Why NOT your network marketing or direct sales business?

The only reason would be if it wasn’t a REAL business.

But you and I know better.

So, if you want to learn a strategy that is a proven way to build a real business online, you can learn more about it here via my bootcamp.

There, I’ll show you exactly what to do and how to position yourself, so you’ll never have to chase, annoy, pester, or beg anybody, ever, to take a look at your products, services, and business.

These methods allow you to build your business automatically—where prospects reach out to you (instead of you having to reach out to them) and all online!

The bottom line is that, in today’s age, you don’t need to be pushy, obnoxious, or overly-aggressive to build a successful business.

So if you’re ready to get started…

Just click this link to get immediate access to my FREE 10-Day Online Recruiting Bootcamp and start generating leads this week!

Just like anything else in business, this will take work and study.

But ultimately, you can enhance your skill set by moving your business into the 21st century, the online century!

Let’s do this together!

Much success!

Ann Moses

source http://travelwithannmoses.info/network-marketing-business-3-proven-ways-using-the-internet-to-grow-your-business/

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ponyregrets · 7 years

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there's this muscle tee on lookhuman that says never apologize for your bad mythology puns, so what if bellamy wears is and all of a sudden longtime friend clarke is alarmed by her sudden attraction to him because ARMS

AO3!

If anyone had asked Clarke, she obviously would have said that Bellamy is hot, the same as she'd say that Raven is hot, or Lincoln, or Monty, or Octavia, or any of her friends. She has a very attractive friend group. They could definitely be on a generic sitcom or soap opera. She'd watch that.

And Bellamy would probably be the most popular one, because he's attractive and surly and sarcastic, and there would probably be a thriving slash fandom for people who shipped him and Murphy, like he and Miller wouldn't be way better. Fandom loves antagonist relationships and white dudes. Clarke knows how it is.

But that's the kind of hot she thinks of Bellamy as being: theoretical and objective. It's not a hotness that affects her, really. Sometimes she'll catch his smile at just the right angle, or or he'll be too lazy to put his contacts in, and she'll remember that he's notably and somewhat remarkably attractive, but it usually passed pretty quickly.

And then his thirtieth birthday rolls around.

"Thirty," he says, morose. He's poking at his yogurt with an expression like he doesn't trust it.

"I know how old you are, yeah," says Clarke. "That's why I put a candle in your yogurt."

"Yeah, that really helped."

"I really don't get what the big deal is. Do guys freak out about turning thirty? Is that a thing?"

"It's the twenty-first century. Everyone can freak out about everything. Gender roles are dead or dying."

"Seriously," she says, poking his arm. "Is this actually an issue for you?"

"I'm not thrilled about it," he admits. "Just--thirty."

"You keep saying that like it's somehow going to clear things up for me."

"You know what I thought my life would look like at thirty?"

"When? I'm pretty sure you had pretty realistic ideas about it, like--yesterday."

"Clarke."

"Bellamy."

"I thought I'd be--settled," he says, finally. "Married, maybe a kid. I know that's stupid," he adds. "Thirty's not that old, my life is good, I'm happy. It just still feels like something to reevaluate."

Clarke sobers, feeling a little guilty. "Do you want to be married with a kid?"

"Not really. Married wouldn't be bad," he adds. "But I'm not miserably single or anything. Just--"

"Thirty's a big deal. I get it, I'm too young to understand. I'm only twenty-seven, so--"

"God, you're an asshole," he says, laughing.

"Seriously, thirty isn't that old. And your life is amazing."

"Is it?"

"You're a great teacher, you can actually afford to live alone, you have a sister who loves you, good friends, an awesome best friend--"

"Yeah, Miller's the best," he teases.

"He is." She nudges his foot. "Honestly, Bellamy. I know thirty feels like a big deal, but--if you want to get married, you'll get married. We could get you on a dating app. You could lie about being a huge nerd so people will like you."

"Yeah, lying is a good start to every relationship."

He's smiling again, but she can't help worrying. Bellamy can be kind of vain and definitely overthinks things, but if he's stressed, she always wants to help. Just because whatever is stressing him out feels a little silly, she's not just going to ignore it.

Which is why she starts thinking about Bellamy's romantic prospects, and that's really the first issue.

The second issue is Octavia's birthday present, which she'd like to think would be fine, if she wasn't worried about Bellamy dating, and how it actually really has been a while since Gina, and she hasn't actually noticed him hooking up either. And it makes no sense to her, because Bellamy is a great prospect, and he deserves to be happy.

All of which she's thinking about when he pulls a t-shirt out of the bag his sister handed to him at his birthday gathering, barking out a laugh when he sees the text. "Never apologize for your bad mythology puns," he reads, showing the group the shirt. "Your name is historical, by the way. Not mythological. You can stop complaining about that."

"Like you haven't gotten drunk and ranted about how history becomes myth on multiple occasions," Clarke teases.

"Shut up," he says, but he's still smiling. He puts his arm around his sister and presses a sloppy kiss to her temple. "Thanks, O. Appreciated. I'm never going to wear this."

"Are you kidding?" asks Raven. "You have to put it on now."

"Yeah, birthday clothes go on immediately," says Monty. "That's a rule."

"A rule?" he asks, sounding both amused and dubious. "I need a source on that."

"Wikipedia," Clarke says, grinning. "Come on, Bellamy."

He shoots her a look she can't quite read, and then he shakes his head and unbuttons his shirt.

It seems impossible that she hadn't ever seen Bellamy without a shirt before, although as soon as she thinks of that, she realizes she's certainly never seen Monty or Miller or Lincoln shirtless either. They haven't gone swimming together, so why would they be casually shirtless? It's not particularly normal to see friends in states of undress. This is a very normal thing to have not experienced.

So of course she's never seen Bellamy shirtless, and the sight of him knocks the breath out of her. He goes to the gym, so she assumed he was in decent shape, but he's not obviously huge and built like Lincoln is. But he looks so much bigger without his shirt on, broad and firm, all perfectly toned chest and stomach, freckles thick on his shoulders and trailing down from there, as if they were poured on and dripped over his body.

He's only without the shirt for about fifteen seconds while he makes sure the new shirt is oriented correctly and pulls it on, and that should make it better, but the shirt looks to be about two sizes too small, and all it does is emphasize all the muscles Clarke now knows exist and make his arms look comically huge.

Everyone else is looking too, so she doesn't feel bad, but--how can he possibly be single? Even if no one knows he's secretly sweet and caring and wonderful, someone else must have noticed that he's probably the most attractive person in the history of the world. She can't believe she didn't notice. It feels like she must be the last to know.

"Like it?" he asks, and Clarke tries not to startle too obviously. He's asking the group, but he's looking at her.

"You look like a giant dork, Bell," Octavia says, happily.

"It's cute," Clarke tries, and immediately regrets it. It's not what she's actually thinking, which is that she wants to take it off him with her teeth, but it's too far the other way, inadequate but also kind of weird.

But he smiles. "Yeah?"

"Dorks are in," she says, and he ducks his head. She has to fight the urge to crawl into his lap and map the contours of his chest, and she really needs this to wear off. It's just a weird fluke, definitely. One of those odd spots of remembering that her best friend really is an attractive guy, the kind that will pass, like all the others.

And maybe it would, if he would just stop wearing the shirt, like he said he would. If she never saw it again, maybe she'd forget it. But a week later, they're at Monty and Miller's for game night, and he's wearing it again, and then at Octavia's cookout the next week, and it's suddenly impossible to ignore how much she wants him.

Which is why she decides to get him a significant other.

It seems like the simplest solution, completely logical and reasonable. Infidelity makes her itchy, and she's basically incapable of being attracted to people who are in relationships. If Bellamy gets a girlfriend or a boyfriend, the feelings will shut off, like she's hitting a switch.

"You should get Tinder," she tells him.

They're grabbing dinner after work, which means he's not wearing the t-shirt, but she's permanently broken now, so she can't help catching the pull of muscles under his button-down, aware of what's waiting beneath. And that's ignoring the renewed appreciation of his face, his smile and his laugh and the way his eyes soften when he looks at her.

It's such a fucking problem.

"Like, firewood?" he asks. "For what?"

"It's an app."

"For firewood?"

"Do you seriously not know what Tinder is?"

"No idea."

"It's a dating app."

"And I should get it."

"You're worried about being single, right? Thirty, not married?"

"I'm not really worried about that. Crisis over. I'm good. Thirty doesn't really feel nearly as different as I thought it would. And I'm not in a rush to get married."

"But you should date."

He looks amused. "Yeah? Why?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"You don't date."

"I don't not date," she says.

"Do you have Tinder?"

"No."

"So why should I get it? I'm not looking to hook up with random strangers, Clarke," he says, and it sounds so oddly specific that she wants to object. "Really. I'm good."

"You haven't dated anyone since Gina."

"You haven't dated anyone since Lexa," he shoots back. "Is it a competition now?"

"I didn't have a breakdown about my birthday."

"It wasn't a breakdown. Just a mild--" He huffs. "It's a milestone, and that makes you think about where you are and where you want to go, okay? But--where I want to be isn't online dating, okay?"

"So where is it?" she asks.

He bites the corner of his mouth, and she wants to lean in, catch his lips with hers. She's been thinking about it way too much, kissing Bellamy. She's seen him kiss a few people, and she didn't realize she remembered what it looked like until she started thinking about it, but she does, and she wants it for herself. He looks like he'd be good at it.

"Here," he says. "I just want to be here."

It's a nice sentiment, and Clarke should listen to it, but she has a problem that she needs to solve, and that problem is that just being with Bellamy isn't enough for her anymore, and she needs to get that back.

So she goes to Raven.

"I want to set Bellamy up with someone."

Raven looks unimpressed. "Why?"

"Because he's single."

"So? He can be single. You're single. I'm single. You starting a dating service?"

"I think he'd like a relationship."

"Nope," says Raven, effortless. "Try again."

"He was talking about how he thought he'd be married when he was thirty."

"Then he can find a spouse."

She huffs, gives up. "He's hot, okay?"

"And?"

"And I want him to date someone else so I'll stop thinking about how hot he is."

Raven pauses, looks at her. "So, wait, you somehow only just noticed Bellamy's hot?"

"It just became a problem," she says.

"You just noticed that you're into your best friend and favorite person in the whole fucking world, and you think he wants to date someone, and your solution is to hook him up with someone else?"

Clarke opens and closes her mouth a few times, trying to understand the words. Of course she's hooking him up with someone else. It's not like she can date him. She can't. Because--she can't. He wouldn't.

"Someone he actually wants to date," she says, and Raven rolls her eyes.

"You run that past him?"

"He didn't want to sign up for Tinder."

"Clarke," says Raven.

"What are you expecting me to say to him? I just realized I want to make out with you, are you interested?"

"You think he'd say no?"

It's a tough question. Clarke has those friends, the ones she'd kiss in a second, if they asked. Raven would have been one, was, right up until--

Right up until she stopped being able to think about kissing anyone except Bellamy.

"I don't want to stop at making out," she admits.

"You're the one who said you wanted to make out with him, so--"

"I know." She puts her head down on the table, groaning. "I just want to stop feeling like this. If he was dating someone else--"

She feels Raven's hand petting her hair. "Pretty sure that wouldn't work. You could just tell him you're in love with him."

"I'm not," she says, on reflex.

"You sure?"

She wants to say yes, but she knows she's not actually that shallow. Lust happens to her, has happened before and will probably happen again, but this is different.

"No," she says.

"Maybe figure that out and go from there," says Raven. "And don't try to set him up with anyone but yourself."

It's good advice, even if the only reason she takes it is that once Raven's said it, she can't stop thinking about it. She'd say she's been in love before, first with Finn and then with Lexa, but those were easy. Simple. She was dating them and the relationships progressed to a point where she was in love, and then they ended at some point and the love didn't exactly go away, but it stopped being the same kind of love. The whole thing followed a natural arc. She started the relationships with relatively little investment, and then fell in love once she'd gotten to know them.

But it's not as if she needs to get to know Bellamy. As Raven said, he is her best friend and favorite person, and now that she thinks about it, why wouldn't she be in love with her favorite person? It's so entirely logical that she feels stupid for not realizing it sooner. Of course she's in love with Bellamy.

The revelation doesn't really help matters. How do people just say they're in love? She tends to make out with people and go from there, but she doesn't know how to make out with Bellamy, and has even less idea of what else to do.

So she avoids him. She bails on their usual Monday-morning breakfast, claiming she overslept. When game night rolls around, she says she's feeling tired. When he texts and asks if she's okay, she assures him she is, and when he asks if he can come over to watch TV, she says she think she's coming down with a cold.

It's not the mature way to deal with the situation, but she doesn't really know how to look at him yet, so she can't be spending time with him. Not until she figures it out.

But this is Bellamy, and he's her best friend, so on Saturday morning, he shows up at her place.

He doesn't call first, but when her doorbell buzzes, she's sure it's him. No one else would come to see her without warning, and she's sort of been expecting it. She can't remember the last time they went this long without seeing each other, which is weird too, once she thinks about it. She can go a month without seeing Raven or Octavia, but a week without Bellamy and she's already feeling like an asshole.

When she opens the door, he's not only wearing the stupid fucking t-shirt, but his glasses, and his hair is a mess, and she doesn't know how she ever thought she was anything but in love with him. Or how she thought she'd get out of it.

"I brought breakfast," he says. "And some cough medicine. And a can of soup. In case you're really sick."

She has to smile. "So, you think I'm not sick and brought supplies anyway?"

"Just in case." His eyes sweep over her, and Clarke feels her heart flip over. "What's wrong?"

"I had a stressful week."

"You could have told me."

"Since when do I deal with stress well?" she asks, with half a smile, and Bellamy smiles back.

"You're a dick," he says. "I was fucking worried."

"I know. Sorry."

"It's cool." He goes to the kitchen to pour coffee, moving around her space with an ease that never seemed like a big deal before. He wasn't supposed to be her best friend. He was just supposed to be Lincoln's girlfriend's kind of awkward brother, and then they got along, and now--

Now he's refilling her coffee without being asked, handing her a breakfast sandwich, with bacon on an everything bagel, and pushing up his glasses when they slide down his nose, smiling at her and making her heart ache.

She doesn't know what happened.

"So, what's wrong?"

The question isn't a surprise, but she still doesn't have a good answer. "Can we not talk about it? Just--for an hour or two."

"I'm setting an alarm," he says. "Two hours and then you have to tell me."

"Of course you are."

They get set up on the couch with Netflix going, and once they're both settled in, he asks, "Do you want a hug?"

The smart answer is no, and it's the considerate one too, because if she tells him what's actually bothering her, the hug might be something he feels weird about.

"Yeah," she says anyway, and when he raises his arm, she curls into his side. They don't do this very often, but it still feels familiar. They do it just enough that she knows she wants to do it more.

"You really do need to tell me," he murmurs, rubbing his thumb against her arm. "Just--"

"I know," she says. "It's fine. You don't have to worry."

"Like that's ever stopped me," he says, and Clarke laughs and buries her face against his shoulder. He smells like soap and boy, and the stupid t-shirt is softer than she expected, and she doesn't want to know she loves him. She just wants to go back to not having any idea. "Seriously," he adds, soft. "This is a lot."

"So just imagine how annoying it is for me."

She doesn't mean to fall asleep, but the stress wasn't a lie, and she feels warm and safe and happy, completely relaxed for the first time since his birthday, so she passes out about halfway through the first episode of Parks and Recreation. It's some good sleep, as sleep goes, and she's actually feeling pretty refreshed when his alarm goes off.

"Shit," she hears him mutter. "Sorry, I forgot--"

He fumbles it off and glances over her like he's hoping she didn't actually wake up, and she lets herself lean up and press her mouth to his. It's no more mature a way to deal with the issue than anything else she's done, but at least she gets the kiss. Even if it's shitty, which it is, and Bellamy is frozen, which he is, she got to try it once.

He's the one to pull back, and she knows her heartbreak is written all over her face, which is why his laugh is such a surprise. She can't believe he's laughing at her, but she doesn't have time to object before his hand is on her jaw and he's kissing her now, grinning into it, kissing her like all he needed to know was how little she wanted to stop.

"Please don't tell me you're blowing off stress," he murmurs. "If this is just --"

"No, this is what I was stressed about," she says. "Telling you that I--"

He brushes his nose against hers, pulling her closer. "That you what?"

"You look really good in that shirt," she tells him, and he looks like he may never stop grinning.

The whole thing is a great look on him.

"Just the shirt?" he teases. "So if I took it off--"

He's half on top of her now, and when she tugs the hem of the shirt, he removes it without complaint, still beaming down at her.

"I'm in love with you," she says. It feels safe, at this point. "It was stressful."

He tucks her hair back, smile gentling as he looks at her. "Trust me, I know. But I didn't blow you off, I just stressed about it on my own time."

"Mine worked better," she points out, and he leans down again, mouth brushing her jaw.

"Yeah. I like your plan a lot more."

He stays for basically the entire weekend, and they do their best to not get more than about five feet from each other until they have to split up for work on Monday. Clarke's reassured to find out his thirtieth-birthday freakout was mostly realizing that he was in love with her, because she would have felt guilty if he'd been pining away for years and she only just noticed. Their timing was surprisingly good. No one was miserable for too long.

She's not sure exactly how the news makes its way through their friends; she assumes Bellamy tells his sister and Miller, and she tells Raven, and by the next game night, it's just common knowledge. Which is good, because Clarke's always found it really awkward to tell people about a new relationship, and it feels even more awkward to explain that she's dating Bellamy. It feels as if she needs to justify why it happened now, why it didn't happen sooner or later, and she doesn't have a good explanation. This was just how it went.

But apparently Octavia got the full story, because she plops down next to Clarke on the couch and says, "Did that stupid t-shirt actually get my brother laid? Really?"

"It looks really good on him," Clarke says, trying not to blush. "Please tell me you don't want me to tell you about our sex life. That would be awkward."

"Nope, definitely not. But he's really happy, so--"

"I'm really happy too," Clarke promises. "Don't worry, it's not just him."

"Good. Glad I could help." She glances over at Bellamy, and Clarke follows her gaze. He's chatting with Miller, wearing a standard blue button-down and slacks and looks as good as he ever has, even if it took Clarke a while to notice, and she really does adore him. "Happy for you guys."

"Yeah," says Clarke, turning her attention back to Octavia with an effort. "Best birthday present ever."

#peachfacedlovebirds

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stimstriders · 7 years

Text

the one where he's not popular

davekat - high school au

Player, charismatic, funny, outgoing, hot, desirable, popular.

Dave Strider is unmatchably full of character and coolness, except that he’s not. That’s online, on a computer screen, thousands of miles away from him in three directions and only three directions. Over a chat client Dave likes to think that he oozes cool from every pore if only to distract from the fact that it’s obvious he doesn’t.

His friends might be onto his game a little bit but that’s all clouded by the miles and miles of distance between the four of them. They could very well all be perfectly aware of just how uncool he is (I mean, look at their conversations) but there’s a hella thick layer of plausible deniability bundling him up like a safety blanket. They don’t see him every day, they only know what he shows them, he’s been wrong before about people’s impression of him.

That last bit of criteria in equal parts unnerves Dave and comfort him because yeah, he may be hella bad at reading people (especially through the internet,) but it stirs the whole situation in the unreliable narrator’s shitty brain. My friends all hate me and think I’m annoying here, I’m just thinking that because my brain is fucking weird there, I could be excusing them actually hating me with my shitty brain but in reality they really, really do hate me there.

Damn, when did this all get spun from “uncool” to “hate?”

Either way Dave shakes the thought from his head like he’s whipping a pesky gnat away from buzzing in his ear. There are some ways he could alleviate these concerns in a, like, healthy manner. But most of them get swept under the rug and he settles into familiar albeit anxious passivity all over again.

Dave Strider isn’t classic cool, isn’t popular, and honestly isn’t even often noticed. That’s probably a good thing for a multitude of reasons, ranging from the sunglasses he wears when he’s allowed all the way to his general physical state. Bruises that would be harder to hide if he had more contact than just brushing up against people in the halls, the way he scarfs down gross school meals like nobody’s fucking business because he’s probably, definitely not going to get a meal even half that substantial at home. Much less as fattening or having any significant nutrition. The jury’s still out on whether or not school food actually satisfies his super necessary food-pyramid (or whatever they’re using now) needs, but it’s a better bet than the shit he eats at home.

It’s probably good that he isn’t popular. Which is a huge stroke of fucking luck.

Not like he just struck unpopularity as a fluke and he’s really a super cool guy or anything, but he clearly remembers when arguably the most popular kid at their school rolled his ass into this institutional hellhole in the middle of the spring semester freshman year. Hell, he still sees him fucking daily and even has a few classes with him, plus the same lunch period. It’s not a small school or anything, but they run into eachother a whole fucking lot.

Day one, Karkat had just moved to Texas from Washington State (why was completely beyond him) and had absolutely no one, just like Dave. Karkat had planted his ass at Dave’s reject lunch table for about a week before scooting out to a more respectable one.

Dave's overly chatty, make no mistake, but... not publicly. Yeah, it'd be nice to have someone to talk to outside of his phone and his computer, but that's a whole lot of reaching out and extending himself that's just all kinds of not cool.

Needless to say, they didn't say shit to eachother in the first week or so that they sat together. For the most part they just pretended the other wasn't there. It's always been that way, it's kind of their thing, Dave likes to think. They're pretty comfortable with eachother, right? Like silent bros, silently acknowledging their broship from a respectable, silent distance.

Nah. 'Cause with Karkat's real friends he's talkative as hell. Even with the people he doesn't like he shouts up a storm or rambles on about something to keep the air free of awkward silence. Karkat's just treating him like everyone treats him with a few more sideways glances.

Dave isn't so broken up about it. Karkat isn't even the cool kind of popular with Daddy's money and shitty high school parties pumped full of alcohol. Karkat's the kind of popular that has him flush with project partners and people to get him in trouble for talking too much. The kind of popular where it's easy for him to rope two or three people per class period into after school events, student council meetings, book fair organization, debate team spots...

Karkat's the nerdy, uncool kind of popular that has him flittering from clique to clique without a second thought because to him, cliques are a myth.

Dave sees them. Sees the sports kids and the camo-decked red-necks, the hipster druggies and the trailer-trash druggies, the theater kids and the band kids, the Advanced Placement kids and the weebs.

And then he and Karkat, who are outliers in completely different ways. Karkat, who can sit with everyone. Dave, who's cool enough to have his own table.

Don't get him wrong: he's not bitter about it. Honestly, he's above all of that grouped up trash. Yeah, sometimes he thinks about how it'd be neat to be able to bounce between the hipsters and the trailer-trash, (he'd probably fit in just fine with both,) nabbing a joint or a cigarette when he could, but he didn't need it. Especially when the cell-phone ban got lifted and he was free to kick up at the back of the cafeteria and shoot the shit with John, Rose, and Jade looking properly fucking insouciant.

School was just a better place to be at than home, and if he made a habit of not going to school it might get Bro in legal trouble. He went to school sick, bruised, tired, mentally vacant - and saved the off days for when he really needed them.

Today’s a combo day: bruised and tired. Approaching the bus stop, Dave’s already thinking on walking right past as he thumbs the contact-case in his pocket. A big factor here is that he hasn’t put his contacts in yet and he’ll probably have to be late to first period in order to slip away and put them in.

Karkat shuffles up to the bus stop next to Dave and boy does he look like shit. He’s slumped over, eyes half-closed, dark circles bruising up under his eyes and a deep furrow to his thick eyebrows. Dave shifts his hands in his pockets, giving the other boy a quick once-over before looking back to the cars passing on the city road in front of them.

A few minutes pass before he looks back, thumbing the pause button on his music app. “You look like shit, dude,” are probably the first words he’s ever said to this guy.

Nah, they had a project together at the beginning of sophomore year for some bullshit class. Geometry? Karkat’s shit at math, probably one of the only non-advanced classes he has.

Karkat squints back at Dave, and if possible the deep-set furrow in his brows only squishes deeper. It takes some effort to swallow back the laugh bubbling up his throat in response to that. “Gee, thanks for your completely fucking unasked for opinion. That sure is the one thing I needed to hear at 6 o’clock in the morning on a fucking Monday. What a fantastic way to start my week!”

At that Dave does actually snicker. “No one looks good this early on a Monday,” he points out, “you know, except me.”

“You look like shit, too, dick-for-brains. Don’t delude yourself. I shudder to imagine what’s under those tacky glasses you insist on wearing before the sun’s even properly up.”

Time for a curve-ball. “Let’s go down to 19th street.”

Karkat is satisfyingly shocked. Dark brown eyes widen and thick eyebrows smooth out long enough to lift comically high. His lips part into a little ‘o’ and damn do they look weirdly girly with how full and soft they look.

Wait. Dave mentally shakes himself back into awareness. Curve-ball rebound, damn.

For once Karkat doesn’t even seem like he knows how to respond at first. After a few more seconds of being stunned, he manages. “Are you asking me to skip school with you? I’m competing for valedictorian, I can’t just miss school for no reason.”

Dave pulls his earbuds from his ears and winds them around his phone before sliding it back into his pocket over his contact case. “You can more than afford it, dude, don’t bullshit the king of bullshit. You clearly feel like crap, that’s more than enough reason to say screw it for one day and skip out. Plus you, like, never miss school.” Hiking his bag up higher on his shoulder, Dave leans over to press the cross signal on the pole beside them.

“We’re gonna get caught,” Karkat cautions as the signal blinks green and Dave leads the way across. As Karkat jogs up beside him to fall into pace with his long strides, Dave’s chest shivers with a foreign tremble of relief.

“Nah, I’ve done this before. Nobody outside of school gives a shit who you are or what you’re doing.” They hit sidewalk and swing right, starting down toward Yale. “You think everybody knows you’re skipping, but plenty’a kids could be out for plenty’a reasons. We could be college kids for all they know. Nobody assumes you’re not doing what you’re supposed to and nobody asks. As long as you stay away from the school.”

They lapse into silence and Dave bumps his shoulder into Karkat’s every time he tenses when someone walks too close or a car drives by too slow. When they come up on 19th street Dave pulls his camera from his bag and loops the strap around his neck, grinning when Karkat sidles a few steps away from him suspiciously.

“Chill out. You should be all about my delinquent ass whipping out some school work while we’re misbehaving, shouldn’t you?”

“Keep your fucking voice down?” Karkat stage-whispers. Or maybe that’s him actually whispering. Fuck, that would be gold. “And who the hell refers to themselves as a delinquent outside of anime? You’re not some fucking hentai trope.”

“Dude, did you just say hentai? You- you know that’s not synonymous, right?”

Dave leads them into a coffee place, Karkat’s complaining shifting topics to the heavy scent of smoke lingering in the cafe from the cigar bar next door. They order coffee and Dave buys them both breakfast before Karkat can shoulder him aside to pay for himself. Karkat makes fun of him for taking a few pictures of their mugs and Dave babbles over his embarrassment.

They hit the record store and Karkat’s ribbing intensifies until Dave gets some revenge in a hole in the wall bookstore that they slip into. Both of them walk away with a reasonable haul and banter their way to an arcade down the street.

Guitar Hero and a shitty DDR rip-off eat up some time. Dave really tries not to seem like he’s showing off or anything, but even stiff from ten layers of bruises he does better than Karkat’s willing to loosen up for. They turn up about even in the racing games, if only because Dave intentionally spins out and turns it into a game of bumper cars.

Karkat laughs a lot. It’s really nice.

They end up in a cramped ice-cream shop with Karkat still struggling to shove an ugly rainbow teddy-bear in his bag alongside all his school shit and the books he bought earlier. Dave picked it out for irony’s sake as a blaring wow, look how gay it is joke, but once Karkat started expressing that he genuinely liked it he... lightened up.

“I had a really good time today,” Karkat is mumbling around a spoonful of Chai Tea Coconut ice cream - (seriously, what the fuck) - his cheeks flushed up, and it takes everything Dave has in him not to lift up the camera hanging around his neck.

Tuesday, Karkat smiles at him from across the aisle on the bus. He’s already two thirds of the way through one of the shitty romance novels he picked up on their trip. At lunch he sits down at Dave’s VIP table followed by three other people and Dave swallows down his discomfort, keeping his eyes locked down on his phone until Karkat starts elbowing him and asking his opinion about shit.

Wednesday, repeat. Thursday, repeat.

This might’ve been a big mistake.

#davekat

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starlighttaek8 · 7 years

Text

Love=Danger?

Prompt: First Kiss

Jin x reader

Suga x reader

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“So, have you ever had your first kiss?”

“No.”

“Would you like to?”

Pause.

Rewind.

Your friendship with Jin had started when you were very young.

Your parents had been best friends with each other, so you grew up close with him.

Your relationship was closer to siblings, but as you grew older, you became increasingly inseparable.

You and Seokjin were joined at the hip, as it were, always together.

As this closeness grew with age, so did speculations that something else was between you two, something greater than just extremely close, yet platonic friends.

Yet, nothing ever happened.

Until the twenty-third of December.

You were in high school at the time and after school, Jin always drove you home.

This one particular day, however changed suddenly from peaceful to frantic.

The squeal of tires against pavement, desperately trying to use the brakes to stop the car. It was hopeless. The car crashed into a tree, slamming your head into the headrest and then down onto the airbag. Alarms blared, and you could hear shouting and crying. But you couldn't focus on that right now. You had to sleep. You felt very tired. Your eyes began to flutter close, shouts to stay awake and keep your eyes open, distancing themselves from your hearing. You felt yourself being rolled into an ambulance and everything went black.

It was after the incident, 3 weeks to be exact. You had woken up to bright lights and loud beeping. You were alone in your hospital room.

Then, the door opened. Seokjin walked into the room with a small number “10” above his head.

“(Y/N)!! You're awake! You've been in a coma for 3 weeks! But you're awake! I have to tell everyone!”

“J-Jin..” you stutter as he rushes out of the room, intent on making sure everyone knew you were awake. Your small voice goes ignored as a doctor flies into your room.

“You had us worried you weren't going to wake up.” She says, and as you look at her you notice a small “4” above her head. She checks your vitals and shines a small light in your eyes. You wince at the light but cooperate with her.

Soon after she finishes, your mother comes into the room a small “2” floating above her head.

She fusses over you, showering you with hugs and attention but the only thing you could think was the question of the small numbers over everyone's head.

“Honey, you look confused, is there something wrong?”

“Oh?” You come out of your thoughts.

“It's nothing mom.” You smile and you choose not to ask her about the number.

It wasn't long before you started attending school again, and the question about the numbers on the top of everyone's head never exited your thoughts.

You looked around you, a mixture of twos, threes, and fours above your classmate’s heads. You made a list in your mind, from every story you've read, any theory, anything that could possibly explain the numbers.

Date of death- No, it's just a single number, and the highest was Jin’s.

Days until death- No, your mother's number was a two, and she was still very much alive, still with a number two above her head.

Soulmates, maybe people with the same number were soulmates.- No, you had seen a lot of people who had lower numbers. No-one could possibly have that many soulmates.

Attractiveness- This only proved true with Seokjin, who still had a ten lingering above his head, it proved false with everyone else. Your mother was pretty, definitely not deserving of a two and, if it had been attractiveness, you were sure that there would be a lot more people with higher numbers.

Danger to you- You had only seen this theory in a writing prompt online, convinced it was just a fluke. But, nothing had proven it wrong yet, and maybe, just maybe, Jin’s was the highest because he was driving when you had the accident, leaving you in a coma.

Until…

“Class, there is a new transfer student coming from Daegu High. Please treat him with respect and kindness. Min Yoongi, you can come in.”

And in walked a boy with pastel green hair.

There wasn't anything special about him, other than his hair. He wore off brand shoes, tight, black skinny jeans and a black shirt.

But, hovering above his head, was a small number 10.

You were about to throw off your danger theory but there was something about him, maybe it was his aura, for lack of a better word, or maybe just the black clothes, that screamed intimidating.

His face had a neutral expression, bordering on a bored look, hooded eyes and a straight face. He had a small earring in each ear, but you could tell that he usually would wear more as there were several pierced holes going up his ear.

He was the kind of person that your parents would tell you to stay away from.

It was that very reason, that you approached him. That, and you wanted to prove or disprove your danger theory.

You sat next to him during lunch, Seokjin following you and doing the same.

He looked surprised that you did so.

That lunch was mostly, uneventful, small talk sprung up once in a while, and you slowly learned more about him. But while his demeanor and clothes relayed an intimidating look, he wasn't when talking. He had a soft voice, and when he smiled, his eyes lit up. So far, he was proving your danger theory wrong.

Later that day, Seokjin was invited to a party, and he wanted to bring you along as a plus one. You agreed, and this is where we fast forward to the scene in the beginning.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“So, have you ever had your first kiss?”

“No.”

“Would you like to?”

You paused, contemplating your answer. You had never really thought about relationships or getting into one. You never understood where the line between friendship and dating was drawn, hence the suspicions of dating that other people had with you and Jin.

And since it was Seokjin that was asking…

“Sure.”-

He smiled at your answer, and slowly came towards you.

You closed your eyes and then he captured your lips with his own.

The kiss didn't last long, but it left you breathless.

It wasn't long before you initiated another one, and another.

“Truth or Dare.” You said softly, smirking.

“Dare.” Jin chuckled.

“I dare you to be my boyfriend.” You said, smiling.

“Challenge accepted.” He laughed and hugged you.

As the night went on, and into the next few months, you threw out your danger theory. There was no way feeling this good could put you in any danger.

Over the next few weeks, and following months, Yoongi became an established part of your life. You and Seokjin were dating and Yoongi came along for the heck of it. He called it “third wheeling” but, whatever.

But as time went on, the lines between friendship and dating blurred. You and Jin weren't very affectionate with each other, in public or private.

Yet you were very affectionate with Yoongi. On movie nights, cuddled against his side and running your fingers through his hair. On little “day excursions” with the three of you, arm around his shoulders. These little things are what made it seem like you were dating Yoongi instead of Seokjin.

But those things didn't matter right?

If Jin cared he would have said something.

And it's not like you liked Yoongi like that.

He was just a friend.

~a few years later~

You don't know what happened between you and Seokjin. Maybe you just weren't fit to be a couple. You were still friends with him, yes, but it just didn't feel right. You had broken up two years ago, things should have returned to normal, right? Neither of you had anything against each other, and it was an amicable break up, so why was it so difficult to be around him? Maybe you did have leftover feelings for him, it was reasonable, you two had dated for a year.

But why did your heart still ache around him?

Maybe that's why you saw the numbers. Maybe that's why you still saw that small number 10 above his head. Maybe it was trying to tell you that love is the most dangerous of all. Because, after two years of being just friends with Seokjin, even after dating him, you longed to be in his arms. You knew that you two weren't a good match. It was too awkward, and there wasn't any chemistry as a romantic couple. It got to the point where you two didn't kiss or hold hands or anything, really. You fell for him as a best friend, but that is all you were meant to be.

But wait a second.

Seokjin wasn't the only person with a small 10 above his head. There was only one other person that you had ever known to have that number.

Min Yoongi.

How could you have forgotten?

The numbers had stopped playing such a big role in your life once you stopped thinking about the numbers and trying to figure out the people underneath.

Min Yoongi had been such a big part of your life throughout high school and, as you all went to the same college, throughout college as well. Seokjin and Yoongi were roommates, so it became very awkward when you started to find your once very average looking friend, attractive.

Puberty had certainly hit him like a bus.

And he wasn't the only one.

Seokjin got taller, and his shoulders got wider. His already handsome yet cute face turned into a more manly attractiveness.

Your two friends were the embodiments of good looking.

Slowly, you had started to develop feelings for your shorter friend, feelings that were a lot stronger than you ever felt for Jin.

So, one day after your lectures were finished,you decided to tell Yoongi the feelings you had for him. You weren't sure where these feelings would lead you, and you were terrified of being awkward around Jin. Seokjin really was the friend of a lifetime, your first kiss, your first love. But there was something about Yoongi that made you want to always be around him.

You wanted to kiss him.

You wanted to hold his hand.

So as you approached Yoongi, you prayed to any deity that would listen for everything to go smoothly. The last thing you wanted was for this to be awkward.

“Hi Yoongi, I just want to tell you something that I'm not quite sure how to say, so I'll take a page from your book and be as blunt as possible. I started having romantic feelings for you. I know we have been friends for a long time now, but recently I've become attracted to you.”

“Well, a blunt confession requires a blunt response. I like you as well, in the romantic sense and I propose a date this Friday night at 5.”

“I accept your proposal.”

You both started laughing at your ridiculous conversation but nevertheless, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him in a hug.

He smiles, leans down, and kisses your forehead with the softest of touches on the back of your head.

“Hey guys, I got invited to this party.. Oh, did I interrupt something?” Jin asked when he noticed the position you two were in.

“Not at all,” you said, turning around to face him. “Yoongi and I just decided to go on a date this Friday.”

“Oh.”

You could see a slight change in Seokjin’s demeanor. His eyes cast downward with an awkward smile.

“Well, I hope you two have fun on Friday. I have to.. Uh.. I have to go.. I'll see you guys later.”

“Wait! Ji-” You try to stop him and ask him what's wrong, and the aching feeling from when you two broke up comes back with full force.

But, he's already gone.

Friday comes quickly, and your nervousness builds up unlike ever before. For the first time, you frantically comb through your closet. You wanted desperately to impress him.

Little did you know, that you didn't need to impress him. Yoongi had liked you ever since you started dating Jin. He thought he would never had a chance with you. He honestly believed that Seokjin was not only better looking, but also better suited. Seokjin had known you for longer after all, but that didn't stop the warmth his heart felt when you were nearby. Even throughout your first relationship, when you would show skinship with him instead of Seokjin, he felt extremely happy.

As a result, you weren't the only one rooting through your closet on Friday.,

Yoongi comes to pick you up from your door with a bouquet of varietal lilies, knowing they were your favorite flower.

Ever since that night, your relationship with Yoongi blossomed.

He walked you to lectures.

He brought you everything you needed and then some.

Some would describe him as a perfect boyfriend, including you.

He was completely devoted to you, and you to him.

Some may call it whipped, but what was between the two of you was just love.

You knew how hard he worked on his major of choice - music.

The late nights.

The skipping meals and sleep, and the constant struggle of inspiration that always seemed to flourish when you were together.

You tried your best to be the best girlfriend you could be.

You stayed with him for late nights in the studio.

You massaged the knots out of his back from sleeping too many nights on the studio’s couch.

You brought him food constantly, worried when he wouldn't eat.

Your relationship with him grew stronger by the day.

Then comes the day when Jin shows up at your door.

“Hi, Jin! Is something wrong?”

“No, it's just that we haven't hung out in a while. Just the two of us.”

It was then that you realized, while you were trying to be the best girlfriend, you had become a really crappy friend to Jin.

Constantly ignoring him.

Leaving him alone.

“I'm sorry Jin, I've become a really crappy friend to you haven't I. I was just so focused on my relationship with Yoongi that I-i..”

“No, it's alright, I understand. I'm the one that can just be forgotten while you have your happily ever after with our friend.”

“Seokjin, I don't ever want to hear that you are the one that can be forgotten again. You are the one that inspired me to step out of my shell ever since we were both little kids. If you ever say that you are easily forgotten, I swear to any deity that exists, I will slap that nonsense out of your head.”

You both smile at each other and you promise never again to forget him, even for a short period of time.

He leaves and your phone rings. It's Yoongi, begging you to come to the studio. You agree and quickly make your way there.

Once there, you see Yoongi.

In the recording booth.

With a guitar in hand.

He tells you to put on the massive high quality headset and you do so.

Then he starts playing.

A beautiful melody comes out and he starts singing.

When the song is almost over, he gets up and goes to the door of the booth.

He opens the door.

Walks over to you.

Gets on one knee.

“Will you marry me, (Y/N)?”

He opens a dark violet wooden box.

And there, is a beautiful wooden ring, with your favorite color in an intricate design around it.

It is a very simple ring, but it matches your personality perfectly.

He knew how much this kind of affection means to you.

Instead of just spending money on some fancy diamond ring, his ring was from the heart.

You didn't need a worthless piece of hardened carbon atop a golden ring.

You nodded yes, and wrapped your arms around his body.

His lips captured yours in a fervent and loving kiss.

When you separated, he slipped the ring on your finger while putting a matching ring on his finger.

Later that night, you called Jin and told him the exciting news.

He seemed very excited for you and you asked him to accompany you to shopping for a suitable dress.

You and Yoongi wanted a small courthouse wedding, both of you not caring for a lot of onlookers.

A lot went into planning the wedding, despite how small it was going to be.

As the date grew closer, you couldn't be any more excited. The sound of wedding bells couldn't leave your mind except when sleeping, in which you would have dreams about your future with Yoongi.

The day finally came and when you came walking down the aisle led by your father, Yoongi almost shed a tear because of how beautiful you looked.

Your life with Yoongi never leaving your side was just starting and you couldn't be happier.

Oh, and Jin?

He found your cousin Mina at the reception.

He fell head over heels for her and soon after asked her out on a date.

You were happy that he found somebody to love.

As for the numbers on top of everyone's heads, you never for sure figured why they were there.

If your danger theory was right after all, then Love really must be the most dangerous of all.

You wondered if you would ever figure them out, but you didn't care about it or think about it much anymore. You just had to live your life, and with Yoongi by your side, you had nothing to lose.

Jin eventually married Mina, and their wedding was as magnificent as they were as a couple.

It would be cliché to explain this ending as a happily ever after, but it sure does seem that way, doesn't it?

#btsboundjune17 #@btsbound #kim seokjin #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #suga #bts #suga x reader #yoongi x reader

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whatchudrinkin · 7 years

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History Nerd, Meet Beer Nerd

I am a nerd. I always have been. As a teen my method of music discovery was to read wikipedia articles. I’d start at something I liked, say the Ramones, and click on every artist mentioned on the page. I’d read all those, and then move deeper. When I started this blog the second thing I did was go to the library and find a bunch of books on beer and brewing. Because I’m a huge nerd.

(I’m such a huge nerd I’ve been poring over my beer books again for a month, to get this post just right.)

When Sarah’s parents suggested we check out Colonial Williamsburg on our recent trip, I was fully onboard. On top of the usual history, there’s beer. Last year, Colonial Williamsburg hosted an historical beer summit. They brought in lots of beer historians to talk process and ingredients and the place of beer throughout human history.

Colonial Williamsburg is a great place to host an historical beer conference, Williamsburg is a hub of historical recreations. As part of studying colonial life, reenactors regularly brew beer. If you come at the right time, you can watch Frank Clark, head of Historic Foodways, boil wort over an open fire. I’m not sure anyone actually gets to taste Clark’s homebrew. But if you visit any of the numerous Williamsburg pubs, you can taste some commercial recreations of those historical brews.

Before anyone could try those beers, the brewers had numerous hurdles to clear.

Finding the right ingredients is problem number one. The barley grown today is a completely different species from the grains grown in 1800, and modern maltsters aim for maximum efficiency. Frank Clark tells a story on the Colonial Williamsburg Past & Present podcast about an early test brew that finished at fourteen percent alcohol, way too strong for daily drinking in the Virginia sunshine.

The second issue is modern brewing technique. In the eighteenth century America, brewing was household chore. A brewster would make small batches for family and friends using cast iron pots and pans over a wood burning stove. Scaling up an ancient homebrew recipe to a modern brewhouse all trial and error.

But the Williamsburg Historic Foodways team persisted, and with the help of Alewerks Brewing recreated these colonial beers. We sampled a few at Josiah Chowning’s Tavern on Duke of Gloucester street, where the beer is served from a conventional keg -- not my first choice for historical accuracy -- in cute earthenware mugs.

The first was a historical brown ale called Old Stitch. Brewing a brown ale can be difficult, because most modern porters and stouts are brewed with pale malt and only enough dark malt for color and roast flavor. Historically dark beer was made with all brown malt. What was that malt like? Hell if I know. It was brown and probably dried over charcoal fires.

Old Stitch started from a few offhand references in old brewing manuals. There was no recipe available. So Clark, as described in another podcast, did some detective work. It was listed as a table beer, so he was able to guess at it’s relative strength, probably around five percent alcohol. Then they tackled the question of malt, looking for something that looked like the descriptions in the old manuals, even if they couldn’t specify exact kiln temperatures.

The Old Stitch brewed at Alewerks definitely tastes like a precursor to a modern porter, toasty, balanced. I only had the six ounces, but it didn’t taste all that historical to me. It tasted pretty plain to be honest, and drawn from a keg, it lacked the historical flatness I was expecting. But historical beer nerd beggars can’t be historical beer nerd choosers.

Next they tackled the obscure, extinct style known as Mum or Mumme. Mum seems to be one of those beer styles, like milk stout, that was marketed as a health tonic. Old recipes are chockful of herbs and spices. The historical product had a ridiculously low attenuation and intense herb flavors. Mum was probably a very bitter, very sweet beer.

Dear Old Mum, the Williamsburg version, is a spiced ale brewed with coriander and grains of paradise on a base of wheat and oats. It tastes a bit like a Belgian-y wit without the yeast character. It’s spicy and sweet, like hot apple cider with ginger. Not exactly the weird beer I was promised, but interesting in its own right.

The final beer in my tasting was Wetherburn’s Tavern Bristol Ale, which is toted as a precursor to modern India Pale Ale. Of course, the menu is lacking in any actual history. The best I can get from the Alewerks website the simple fact Bristol was a major port shipping supplies to the American colonies. That’s true. But Clark and others repeat the old saw about export ales being both hoppier and stronger to survive the journey. It’s a story repeated endlessly, without much actual evidence. British brewers exported everything. If it fit in a ship, it found it’s way throughout the empire.

But Alewerks and company fail to specify what sort of beer Wetherburn’s is supposed to emulate. I’ve never come across any references to “Bristol Ale.” There are plenty of proto-IPAs out there. There’s strong October beer, which brewed with the freshest harvest of hops. There’s the famous Burton ale, brewed in Burton upon Trent and famous for its bitterness. The point is, the label “forerunner to the modern India Pale Ale” is a lot to lay on a single pint.

But why does Wetherburn’s taste like coffee? The brownish ale is toasty, with a bitterness more akin to black coffee than hops. I thought it was just a fluke. I was almost convinced I had the wrong beer. On our way home, I insisted we stop in one of the many small shoppes lining Duke of Gloucester Street so I could take another look. Still tastes like coffee, but it tastes stronger, more alcoholic.

Of course, I couldn’t grab just one bottle, or just one beer, so I grabbed a couple of Toby’s Triple Threads Porter while I was at it. This too was a difficult beer to recreate due to the burnt sugar in the recipe. What do you mean a modern brewery isn’t equipped to deal with boiling sugar set on fire?

Triple Threads is not a recreation of a classic London Porter, which legally could never include licorice, molasses, or burnt sugar. In those days taxes were paid on the malt that made the beer, not the final product. The taxmen were wary of anything that went into the brew kettle that hadn’t been properly assessed. Toby’s Triple Threads is said to be based on a colonial recipe. The colonies were the wild frontier. Anarchy in the brewhouse.

Those little additions really give Toby’s Triple Threads it’s flavor. Of course, the roasted malt adds the most flavor, but it’s helped along by the molasses and licorice. There’s just a hint of acidity in there, too. It’s just a whisper of something fruity.

The name Triple Threads comes from an old myth that Porter evolved from the practice of drawing beer from multiple kegs into a single tankard. The most popular was a blend of sweet ale, hoppy beer, and ‘twopenny’ strong ale. Brewers tried to recreate that flavor in a single cask, or butt, and called it “entire butt” beer. The story goes that that “entire” morphed into Porter. The story though, seems too good to be true.

But that’s is really the problem with recreating these historical beers. The stories we tell are so compelling, and the history is so muddy. Tracking down reliable information is hard. And, like all things, beer changes over time.

Porter has gone through so many different phases. At one point it was a strong ale brewed with brown malt which was heated until it cracked and popped like popcorn. At the start of the 19th century, porter was aged in huge wooden vats for up to two years, where it most definitely went through a round of secondary fermentation with wild Brettanomyces. But by the mid 19th century, Porter was served mild, or fresh. At the same time in Ireland Porter was being brewed with black patent malts and efficient pale malt, the formula that eventually led to classic Guinness and the modern Porter we are familiar with today.

If pick a single point between 1750 and 2017 you are liable to stumble across a beer called Porter, but you’ll likely never taste the same thing twice. One porter will be sour and vinous. The will be sweet and smokey. A third might be nine percent alcohol, while the others are closer to three percent.

There are a million fascinating stories you can tell with these beers, stories of changing tastes and changing technology. But Frank Clark and his team seem less interested in telling the story than making a decent beer. Nowhere online or off did I see an explanation of Mum or the story of Porter. I was given a single sentence description of each beer and told to enjoy.

For an organization ostensibly meant to educate the masses on life in the American colonies, Historical Williamsburg seems more interested in selling a passable product than explaining what it is and how it’s made and why. The barmaid simply makes a joke about the water being unsafe and plugs your order into a concealed computer terminal. There’s a veil of authenticity -- they make reference to old brewing logs, they mention archaeological evidence -- but the details are glossed over in favor of play acting and expensive facsimiles.

I have no problem with anyone making a buck off of history, I just want to see the homework finished before you go play pirates.

If you want to read more about the historical beers of Britain, I cannot recommend Amber, Gold, and Black by Martyn Cornell enough. It’s great, it seems to be out of print at the moment, but there’s an Amazon e-book version for a tenner. Read that book and Ron Pattinson’s blog, Shut Up About Barclay Perkins, and you’ll know enough about old beer to piss off anyone.

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fanfiction-and-coffee · 7 years

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"No way - I can’t have TWO soulmates." with Lance/Shiro/Keith? Only if you're still taking soulmate prompts! ^^

okay disclaimer, I don’t really know much about polyamory, so rather than potentially spreading incorrect information about how polyamorous relationships work, I left this open enough that you can interpret it as romantic or platonic or a combination of the two, it’s totally up to you as the reader. (personally, I really love the idea of platonic soulmates tbh.) (and if any of my followers is poly and wants to educate me, that would be amazing!) I went with the good ol’ “soulmate’s name appears on your body as a tattoo” au because it’s a classic and I think it fits this prompt well.

and for the record, in writing this I’m assuming keith and lance are the same age and that shiro is like two years older so please don’t harass me about age gaps I just write what people tell me to okay

prompt is from this list

Keith knows that the soulmate system is complicated. He knows that there are sometimes flukes, complications. He knows that some soulmates are lovers, while some instead share a deep, unbreakable friendship. He knows that some soulmates are born on opposite sides of the world, and that a lot of those couples never meet. He knows that some people get their marks early in their teens, while some don’t get them until their twenties. He knows that some people never get a mark at all.

But he’s never heard of someone having two marks before.

The first name appeared a few days after his fifteenth birthday, a single Japanese character inked into the skin on the inside of his left forearm. The lines are thick and smooth and almost look like brush strokes, and a few hours on a translater app revealed that the character is “shiro,” the Japanese word for the color white. Keith wonders if this is his soulmate’s real name, or if it’s a nickname. He wonders if the fact that his soulmate is Japanese means that they’ll never meet each other, spending their entire lives on opposite sides of an ocean.

He signed up for Japanese classes the semester after it appeared, just in case.

He’s sixteen now, and he’s almost definitely going to be late for his first class because he’s spent the last fifteen minutes staring into his bathroom mirror, studying the new mark that has appeared on his right shoulder while he was sleeping. This one, at least, requires no translation. The letters are phonetic, a sloppy cursive, like his soulmate had scribbled down their signature in a hurry. L-a-n-c-e.

“No way - I can’t have TWO soulmates.” He runs careful fingers over the letters, as if he expects them to rub off like paint, but they’re inked just as deeply and permanently as the character on his opposite wrist. He wonders if this is some kind of cosmic screw-up, or if it means that something has happened to his other soulmate. His chest tightens at the thought.

He skips class that day, opting instead to wade through dozens of online forums dedicated to “unusual” soulmate situations. After several hours, he does find a few other cases of people with multiple marks, although apparently it’s incredibly rare, even more so than someone being born without any. One anonymous forum user claims that they have two marks, as does each of their soulmates, and that the three of them have been in a healthy romantic relationship for years. Another user tells the story of how one of their soulmates is their lover, the other their best friend.

He spends quite a while just staring at the names on his skin, wondering who they are and what connection they’ll have to him if or when he finds them.

Keith doesn’t find his first soulmate until it’s too late.

Stories of the Kerberos mission are everywhere, from television to the Internet to the conversations of strangers on the street.

Three people missing, presumed dead. Sam and Matt Holt, father and son, and their pilot.

The pilot’s name was Takashi Shirogane, but a few of the news networks mention that he was better known as “Shiro” to his family and friends.

Keith pauses the news story when he hears that, and spends what feels like hours staring at the face on the screen. They’ve used his Garrison graduation photo, and that’s what kills Keith the most, knowing that they were at the same damn school for two whole years and never noticed each other. He even remembers the seeing him in the halls, a tall, attractive boy with black hair and an easy smile. It had never occurred to him to check the names of the people in other classes, that his soulmate might have been in the same building as him, just a year or two older.

And now one of his soulmates is gone.

He skips school again, spends most of his day thinking about Shiro, about whether he was scared when he died. He briefly considers looking for Shiro’s family, reaching out to them, but he decides against it. He never knew their son – he has no claim to their grief, no right to feel the aching sense of loss that eats away at him and makes his chest feel hollow.

He runs his fingers over the mark on his shoulder, wondering if his other soulmate was Shiro’s as well. Wondering if maybe, somewhere in the big wide world, someone knows what he’s feeling, shares his peculiar kind of grief.

He drops out of the Garrison a few weeks later.

Lance is pretty sure that the universe is determined to make his life difficult, especially where soulmates are involved. He realized the whole thing was a cosmic joke the second he went through his yearbook and realized that the only Keith at the Garrison was the emo kid with the mullet.

Okay, so there’s no way of knowing for sure that this guy is his Keith. Hunk, ever the supportive best friend, encourages Lance to reach out to him, points out that the very worst thing that can happen is that Lance’s soulmate is a different Keith, in which case Lance doesn’t have to spend the rest of his life trying to convince him to cut his hair.

But Lance doesn’t reach out to him, doesn’t even talk to him. He tells Hunk that it’s because he doesn’t have time for soulmates right now, that he needs to focus on improving his flying skills if he’s going to make it into the fighter class. And that’s part of it, but not the whole truth. Lance keeps the truth to himself, because explaining the whole thing would mean telling Hunk about his second mark, which no one but his parents know about.

Lance wasn’t surprised when it was a guy’s name that showed up on his skin when he was fourteen. The handwriting was messy and cramped, the five letters positioned on the left side of his chest, just over his heart. K-e-i-t-h. He’d assumed that this was a future boyfriend, maybe a future husband. He knew platonic soulmates did happen, of course, but he’d always seen himself as more of a romantic type.

And then the second mark appeared on the other half of his chest and ruined everything. This one was more ambiguous. “Shiro” could be a guy or a girl, although at least he can be pretty sure that his second soulmate is Japanese. Although the fact that he has a second soulmate at all raises questions that he’s not sure he wants answers to.

And the thing that really scares him, the thing that keeps him from telling Hunk or his siblings or anyone about the second mark, is the idea that just because these people are his soulmates doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s theirs. He lays awake some nights, wondering if maybe Keith and Shiro only have each other’s names, if maybe he’s destined to be an outsider in their dynamic. And it’s that fear that keeps him from approaching the Keith at the Garrison.

He doesn’t give up completely, though. He still holds out some hope that maybe Keith will take notice of him and make the first move. He constantly works on his flying, half to improve his rank and half because he hopes that if he and Keith end up competing with each other, it will force whatever confrontation needs to happen.

The longer Keith goes without giving him any notice, the more he starts to believe that he isn’t the one. Or maybe that dark, quiet part of his mind is right, maybe his fears were justified, and maybe Keith only has one mark, one soulmate to look for. And maybe it isn’t him.

After a man named Shiro disappears on one of Pluto’s moons and Keith drops out of the Garrison, Lance decides that he’s definitely meant to spend his life alone.

Most days, Takashi Shirogane doesn’t know what is real and what is his broken, fevered brain trying desperately to give him a bit of relief.

He’s pretty sure that the gladiator fights are real. The adrenaline, the rush, the blood, the pain – it’s all too vivid, too dreadfully clear, to be anything but reality. After every fight, when he’s staring down at his own bloodstained hands, at the broken body of his opponent, he thinks that this is the only thing that has ever been real. Whoever he was before, whatever life he had, is gone. There is only the arena. There is only fighting and death.

He can’t decide if the names on his skin are real or a hallucination. Sometimes he runs a fingertip over the “Keith” etched along his ribs on his left side, or the “Lance” on his right wrist, and thinks that they’re the only real thing he has left. Other times, he stares down at the letters and thinks that they must be just another empty dream.

When they take his arm, he decides it doesn’t matter whether his soulmates are real or not. He’s never going to find them anyway, because he knows now that he isn’t going to get off this prison ship alive.

Keith thinks his hands might be shaking a little as he goes through his clothes (he doesn’t really have a closet, just a couple of boxes that he digs through whenever he needs an outfit), trying to find something big enough for Shiro. He’s still reeling, still trying to wrap his brain around the fact that Shiro is here, next to him. Not dead, but… changed. His black hair is streaked with white, much of the skin that isn’t covered by his clothes marred by scars. He looks… older. Tired. And he keeps glancing around with wide eyes, like he expects Keith’s room to melt away, leaving him back in whatever hell he just escaped from.

And there’s a guy named Lance sitting in the next room, loudly arguing with that Pidge kid. Keith is trying to decide whether that’s too weird to be a coincidence.

Once he’s found a shirt that’s always been far too big on him, but that he thinks will work for Shiro, he turns around the hand it over. He clears his throat, not sure if he should offer his guest some privacy or if it’s a bad idea to leave the guy who just escaped from an alien super-prison alone.

Shiro makes the decision for him when he shrugs and removes the dirty, torn shirt he’s wearing, too tired or in too much shock to care about his audience.

Keith barely manages to keep himself from audibly gasping.

Shiro’s torso is completely covered with scars, some of them raised lines, some puckered skin, some pink and raw as if they’re more recent than the others. But that isn’t what catches Keith’s attention. His gaze goes straight to Shiro’s left side, where he finds his own name, the black ink a sharp contrast against the white scar tissue surrounding it.

Lance has a feeling that it’s going to be several nights before he gets used to sleeping in the castle. It’s too quiet, too empty, and too… well, too alien. He can somehow feel that he’s a very, very long way from home. And besides that, so much has happened in the last twenty-four hours that he’s not sure he’ll ever fully process it.

Aliens. Robot lions. Paladins. Voltron. It would all sound ridiculous if he hadn’t just lived through it.

So when he hears a soft knock on his bedroom door, it only takes a few seconds for him to jump out of bed and answer it.

When he sees Shiro and Keith standing in his doorway, a glimmer of hope washes over him, followed immediately by a jolt of unease. He glances between the two of them, as if the reason for their visit might be written on one of their faces. Shiro, who looks much better now that he’s clean and rested, is wearing an expression that’s difficult to read. If Lance didn’t know better, he’d say he looked shy. Keith, on the other hand, just looks incredibly uncomfortable. And pissed.

It’s Keith who speaks first. “Dude. We were in the same year at the Garrison for three years. Why didn’t you tell me?”

And Lance knows that he should be relieved, or grateful, or even happy, but instead all he can manage to feel is annoyance. “What about you? You ignored me for all three of those years!”

“You could have introduced yourself.” Keith huffs, crossing his arms. “You’re just as much at fault here as I am.”

“At least I was actually looking for you.” Lance hisses, “Instead of just waiting around for my soulmate to fall from the sky or–” He cuts himself off when he realizes that, technically, Shiro did fall from the sky just the night before, albeit inside an escape pod.

“I figured after…” Keith glances at Shiro, like he’s not sure how to breach his next subject without being insensitive. “… after the Kerberos mission made the news, I figured I wasn’t meant to find my other soulmate. It seemed like I was meant to be alone.”

Lance doesn’t want to admit that he felt the same way, that he still feels that way. So instead, he narrows in on the other piece of information Keith has just revealed. “Wait, so you… you have two names, right?” He turns to Shiro. “Both of you?”

Shiro nods, a small smile breaking across his face. “I do. Although I’ll admit, this isn’t quite how I imagined meeting you.”

“Yeah.” Lance leans against his doorframe, suddenly feeling very tired. “So… what does this mean? That there’s three of us, I mean. I’ve never known anyone with more than one soulmate before.”

“I guess we’ll figure it out?” Keith sounds as unsure as Lance feels.

Shiro nods. “We’ve got a lot to figure out. And not just between the three of us. But we’ll be okay.” He claps a hand on each of the other boys’ shoulders, the gesture so easy that it feels natural.

Lance steps back, holding his door open for them. “You guys better come in, then. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

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coolgreatwebsite · 7 years

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Why DotEmu Has Me Worried About Windjammers On The PS4

Early in 1994, an unassuming little game named Windjammers made its way to arcades. Developed by Data East for the Neo Geo Multi Video System, Windjammers is essentially high-octane video air hockey. Players pick one of six characters with different skills and shots, one of six courts of different sizes and layouts, and proceed to volley a frisbee back and forth with the hopes of jamming it past their opponent and into the goal. It’s a game that’s dead simple to pick up and play, but that simplicity masks an amount of depth to its mechanics and variety in a player’s options that makes Windjammers something special. When two skilled competitors go at it throwing rapid fire shots, counter-shots, trick shots, super shots and counter-super shots, the game is an edge-of-your-seat adrenaline pumping blur. Unfortunately, most people just didn’t seem to catch on to that hidden layer, and Windjammers was generally met with a middling reaction.

As time went on and arcade game emulation became easier, Windjammers gained a bit of a cult classic status. For a good long while it was a side-tournament staple in the fighting game community, and a French community had rallied around it and were doing their thing, but it wasn’t until website about video games Giant Bomb started playing it in 2013 that North American awareness of the game really started picking up. As much as I would like to be a cool on-line guy and say that I was way into it before that, I was only tangentially aware of the game prior to Giant Bomb’s coverage (I was more of a Street Hoop guy when it came to weird Data East Neo Geo sports games, for whatever reason). Nevertheless, it’s a game I feel like I’ve been a fan of for a long time, if that makes any sense. It’s an immediately and deeply lovable game.

The only port Windjammers has ever had as of this writing was a Japan-exclusive release on the Wii Virtual Console in 2010. This release eventually got delisted in late 2013, shortly after Giant Bomb’s coverage started strangely enough. Ever since then, there’s been a steady rumbling of people asking for the game to come to modern systems with online play, mainly aimed at PlayStation’s Third Party Production team. After all, they’re the guys who got us a Final Fantasy 7 remake and Shenmue 3, right? If anyone can get this weird obscure frisbee game out of whatever licensing hell it fell into following the death of Data East and years of turmoil SNK has gone through, they could! Well, at PlayStation Experience 2016′s showcase event it finally happened. The lights dimmed, a familiar tune started playing, and there it was on the big screen: Windjammers was coming to the PlayStation 4. The wish had been granted.

And then the monkey’s paw curled.

Pictured above is the banner for the Windjammers booth at PlayStation Experience 2016, and pictured in the zoom-in of that banner is the one thing powerful enough to instantly turn a retro video game fan’s excitement into dread: the logo of French video game company DotEmu. Founded in 2007, DotEmu is a company that specializes in bringing old video games to not-so-old platforms. Over their nearly 10 years of existence they’ve built up a network of connections with Japanese developers and rightsholders and have been responsible for bringing a sizable amount of classic games to various platforms (an exact list is hard to compile, as even their website’s game list is clearly incomplete). The rub here is that, despite the years of experience and web of trusted business partners, DotEmu consistently puts out products that can be described as poor at best.

Generally not poor in flashy, attention grabbing ways mind you. They’re competent enough that a passerby could go “sure, that’s Metal Slug!”, but for the people who love and care about these classic games the vast majority of DotEmu’s output may as well have shipped with crash bugs. It’s not just old game obsessives that suffer either as, even though it may be difficult to point out specific shortcomings without side-by-side comparisons, the way DotEmu’s ports are busted have an undeniable effect on the way these games play at even the most casual levels. These problems aren’t flukes, they’re consistent and documentable, but they often go ignored in media coverage of the company and general discussion of their releases.

I don’t think this is due to any sort of nefarious intent or anything, but rather a lack of education about the subject. Most of the complaints are loosely organized tweets, or squirreled away in niche message boards, and the informative reviews that hit Steam are easy to lose among the less-than-informative ones. The reason I set out to write this article was to attempt to find and document the issues plaguing DotEmu’s ports (with a focus on their Neo Geo offerings as they pertain more to Windjammers) and, most importantly, put everything somewhere easily viewable and shareable. With that mission in mind, I jumped into the Steam version of one of my favorite arcade games: Metal Slug 3.

The Steam version of Metal Slug 3 was, unbeknownst to me at the time, my first brush with DotEmu. I ran through it once back in mid-2014 and here in 2017 all I could recall was that it was the worst port of the game I had ever played, so it was a natural pick to start off with. I played the Steam release simultaneously with the game running in MAME, trading off every other level, just to make sure I was getting all the facts straight. The most immediately apparent issue with the Steam release is that the audio is wrong on almost every level. Most of the sound effects are off in different ways, the worst of them reduced to nothing but shrill screeches, and the music is mangled in one of the oddest ways I’ve ever experienced. It has trouble keeping a steady beat, but it doesn’t quite skip and instead sort of tries to rush back to where it’s supposed to be. It almost makes it seem like the music is being performed by some sort of drunken orchestra, or as if someone were briefly holding back the turntable of a record player in the few cases where it seemed to affect the pitch. I’ve taken the liberty of making a video comparing the music of both versions, below.

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The other two big issues are slightly more subtle, but much more impactful on the gameplay itself. First off, the Steam version drops frames like crazy, which means the game consistently stutters and jumps around erratically. Metal Slug 3 is pretty chaotic so it can be a little tough to pick out amidst the explosions, but the DotEmu port drops frames at all times, even during the game’s rare quiet moments. I found that the tiled background of Stage 3′s pre-sub cave area offered the most readily visible comparison (below). [UPDATE 1/12/17: This is actually an issue with frame-pacing rather than dropping according to John Linneman of Digital Foundry. Frame-pacing issues are where, rather than completely skipping over frames of the game, individual frames will stay on screen for longer or shorter than they’re supposed to. The end result is still a stuttering, choppy mess.]

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This problem only exacerbates the next issue: the Steam version has input lag. Input lag means, well, there’s a lag on your inputs. You press a button and it takes a little bit longer for the corresponding action to happen on screen. Don’t know why, don’t know how, but there is a slight amount of input lag present in the DotEmu port that just isn’t there in the MAME version. Weirdly enough it wasn’t anything visual that tipped me off, but instead something auditory. The gap between pressing the fire button and hearing the gunshot sound effect is a bit wider in the Steam version, and it’s fairly noticeable when you’re going back and forth between versions.

These two issues are bad enough alone, but when combined it causes the game to feel muddy and unresponsive when in actuality it’s quite snappy. Easily dodgeable attacks suddenly become less so, simple actions such as jumping and shooting below you become more difficult to perform effectively, and the game is much more likely to register jumping and shooting as a simultaneous press of A+B, making you accidentally activate your kamikaze Slug Attack while in a vehicle. This isn’t any sort of scientific evidence, and I certainly wasn’t playing amazingly in either version of the game, but I did demonstrably worse in my playthrough of the Steam version and I attribute that to the generally awful feel of the controls.

The one nice thing I can say about DotEmu’s port is that the online play seems, from my extremely limited experience, totally fine. I played the first couple of levels with a friend and it was smooth throughout. The port’s underlying problems still existed, and I’m not sure how the netcode would hold up to something more timing intensive like a versus game, but online play did not accentuate any of the port’s issues from what I could tell.

A brief check-in with the Steam port of Metal Slug X revealed that it, unsurprisingly, has the exact same problems Metal Slug 3 has. This is where my firsthand experience with DotEmu’s products ends, because I’m not enough of a sucker to buy three bad versions of old games. Just two. Craving more info, I put out the call to my wonderful, smart, definitely non-sucker Twitter followers. What follows is everything I was able to gather from them.

Now, I love Metal Slug 3, but I’m far from an absolute expert on it. There are people who have played the game for longer than I have and are way better at it than I am. I doubt the same can be said for friend of the site LordBBH regarding Shock Troopers. One of his favorite games of all time, BBH has probably put more hours into playing Shock Troopers than anyone on the planet (and plenty of those hours are on video). He knows the game inside and out, and he found all of the same issues in Shock Troopers that I found in the Metal Slugs, but he also stumbled upon a couple of things I would have never even thought to check. Such as the difficulty settings, for instance. Every Neo Geo game has about 8 or so different difficulty options that you can change in the system settings, but DotEmu’s ports have just four: Easy, Medium, Hard, and Very Hard. Whereas the original release of Shock Troopers adjusted the damage you take depending on what difficulty you were playing on, the difficulty options in the Steam version, from what LordBBH can tell, do... absolutely nothing. If it were anyone else I would chalk it up to not knowing the game well enough to spot the differences, but this guy knows.

There’s also another issue that’s entirely specific to Shock Troopers and definitely worth noting. There were two versions of the game, and the thing with Shock Troopers is you can either select one character or a team of three that you can freely swap between in-level. In what’s generally considered the “main” version of the game, a team has individual life bars for each character. In the other version, the whole team shares a single life bar. This minimizes the difference between playing as a team and playing as a single character, and the version of the game that uses the shared life bar is treated as more of a curiosity than a thing people play. The DotEmu port uses the single life bar version, and there’s no option to switch to the other one. This is probably an easy thing to overlook if you’re not, you know, a company in charge of porting the game to a different platform. But if you are, it shows a real lack of knowledge and care for your product in my eyes.

If you want a really, really long look at LordBBH playing and discussing the Steam version of Shock Troopers (and a little bit of the next game), he uploaded a video of it to his YouTube channel. For now though, let’s move on.

Twinkle Star Sprites is a cute versus shoot ‘em up game where players compete to clear out the enemies on their side of the screen and launch attacks at the other player. According to the info I received, the Steam version has all the general problems of the previously discussed games, but with a couple of fun unique wrinkles. First of all, the online leaderboards report impossible scores. Like, scores in the billions. For a while people weren’t sure whether it was a bug or people were hacking, but it turns out the leaderboards take the sum of all scores attained in all the versus matches you’ve played and post that. This makes the feature useless for competition, as you can rack up higher and higher scores simply by playing more.

The other thing I was told is by far the weirdest one I’ve heard. While the previously mentioned useless difficulty options actually do something in Twinkle Star Sprites, what they do is increase the frame rate. The game itself is unaltered, it’s just sped up. I have absolutely no clue how or why this would happen, and I didn’t receive details on how much each option increases it by, but this is apparently a real thing that happens and I kind of can’t believe it.[UPDATE 1/12/17: My source on this has gotten back to me with claims that this does not actually happen. Whether or not it never did or was fixed in a patch is unknown. The difficulty settings currently do nothing. Leaving everything here for transparency.]

With that we’ve gone through all the specific examples I was told about and could find on my own, so that about wraps up the “what” of this whole situation (for now). Now we have to move on to the “why”. Why are these ports so consistently shoddy? Why does a company that positions itself as trying to make sure classic games don’t “get lost” continue to bungle everything in both the most basic and most baffling ways? The answer to that isn’t exactly clear. We could look at the case of DotEmu (legally, don’t start) using Nebula, an emulator last updated in 2007, for their 2015 Neo Geo Humble Bundle releases and question their competency. We could look at stuff like the apparently lacking Heroes of Might and Magic 3 HD release or the fact that their promotional Windjammers PS4 theme contains no actual elements from Windjammers and question their passion. We could look at any number of things and take any number of guesses, but I have a feeling the real reason for all of it is simple: they can get away with it. You can technically play through everything beginning to end, and the amount of people who care about these games to the point of easily noticing and articulating these flaws is minuscule compared to the greater number of players. Major outlets aren’t going to report on the input lag of a specific port of a 17 year old game. Negative Steam reviews complaining about frame drops aren’t going to drown out the people going “just like my child days!” and giving a thumbs up (except in the case of specific franchises where obsessives outnumber nostalgia fiends). The people just coming to these games for the first time aren’t going to have the frame of reference to know something is wrong, for all they can tell the game just normally sounds like that. DotEmu can phone it in because there’s not enough people to get the word out that they’re calling collect.

As for the final question: “where” does all this leave the PlayStation 4 port of Windjammers? Only time will tell. DotEmu has been talking up how they’ve had the French Windjammers community constantly playtesting and giving feedback to make sure they get things right, but then again David Sirlin said the same thing about having pro players help with the development of Super Street Fighter II Turbo HD Remix. It’s just not enough of an assurance to make me overlook the company’s extremely rough track record. I hope they prove me wrong and knock it out of the park. I would love to have an official and fully featured re-release of this game that I love, but I’m not holding my breath. My money’s on it being another in a line of DotEmu botch jobs. For a company supposedly devoted to making sure old games aren’t forgotten, it’s almost ironic that they’ve so consistently helped make sure they’re something even worse: misremembered.

Did I miss something? Get something completely wrong? Do you have something to add about a different game? Let me know! I want to update this article with as much relevant and accurate information as possible! Feel free to get at me on Twitter or send me an email.

#article

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