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demonslayedher · 3 years

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Any Kny character you've grown to love/appreciate more??

Thanks for waiting, Anon, I have been trying to really, really hard to narrow this down, but the answer remains: the vast majority of the cast. The only character I loved right away was Tanjiro and that love kept me watching, as with almost every new character I was like, "ugh, I hate this guy. Here I was, having fun being emotionally invested in a high quality anime, and this might ruin it for me." But then the instant I see a different side of their character, I'm like, "...Oh." To go into some examples...

Zenitsu: I could not stand him right away, I hate womanizers, and his conniptions would go on so long that they held up the story. But Gotouge/Ufotable strung me along perfectly, the first glimpse of Thunder Breath made me immediately pay attention and think, "oh, that was cool. I want to see more of that." Seeing him protect the box pretty firmly put him in the "I need to protect this child" box in my heart. And then the spider demon happens, and I'm sending desperate reaction messages to a friend like "NOOOOOO!!!! BABBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYY!!!!" And then he annoyed me all over again at the start of Functional Recovery, ahaha. It's hard to remember how annoyed I was because I'm such a Zen Stan now, and he was a very firm favorite of mine by the time I finished binging the anime up to the last couple episodes, which I waited for as they came out. Inosuke: He was one of the reasons I was curious about the series, I saw some promotional art and was super curious about Nezuko's muzzle (I was one of the people who thought it was some ancient scroll or something, haha) and the kid with the boar mask. The art I saw showed his face, and I assumed he'd be some kid with a cracking voice performed by a female seiyuu. As much as I love Matsuoka's performance now, initially, since I knew what his face looked like, I found it grossly off-putting the moment I heard it. Then every chaotic thing Inosuke did dug a deeper hole; I very quickly decided I hated him, especially when he started beating up on the kid I was starting to like. As his chaos subsided he just became a character I tolerated, and then this happened:

Images you can hear, am I right? This immediately flipped the "BABY" switch in my heart. It was also a lot of fun to understand the Inosuke memes I was seeing everywhere. So by the end of the anime, I loved, loved, loved, loved the Tanjiro/Zenitsu/Inosuke interactions and desperately wanted more (still didn't like how Zenitsu bothered Nezuko, though). I was so impatient for more, but the manga art looked disappointingly off-putting. I figured the anime was successful enough that there'd eventually be more of it, and I wanted to be patient, but then I poked around, read some spoilers, got back into Tumblr to look at fanart and memes, saw a spoiler image of Tanjiro affected by Muzan's poison and the binge-read began. (That's kind of a lie, but I'll get to that.) Let's back up a few episodes. There I was, having a great time, the guy who I forgot about from Episode 1 was back and haha, I guess everyone hates him, and the chick who I figured was going to be a medic who saves Zenitsu in the nick of time turned out to be savage, awesome. I was sending reactions to my friends who were ahead of me, and then we left off seeing the Pillars staring down Best Boy. And I...

Well. Uh. Here, I've dug up an old convo for you, my comments are in blue.

Immediately followed by a passionate vocal rant, which I have transcribed here:

“I feel like what happened was that the mangaka was sitting around with his assistants and was like, ‘welp, gotta make this whole cast of characters, they gotta be so-o-o-o many more levels of extreme than all the other characters I’ve had so far, which isn’t hard, because all of the background characters are cannon fodder and I’ve just gotta leave them all with black hair and no personality traits. So! Gotta go to the opposite of the spectrum with the BIG! POWERFUL! People so no-o-o-body can be normal.’ And so he and his assistants sat down, and they all wrote down just random words or traits, and them put ‘em all in a hat. And then for each character, they pulled out a few of them and said, ‘OK. We’re gonna put these things together, now we have a character.’ And he was probably also like, ‘Iiiiiiiiiiiii’ll flesh them out later. For now, they just need t’… be there, and make an impact. How do we make an impact? By making sure it’s super, super clear what their character traits are. Here, we’ll have this guy repeat the word //HADE//…. ////HA DEEE//// over and over and over… to show that he’s a /showy/ person. Because he /cares/ about that. And he //should// care because that is his character and that’s why he’s powerful.’ OH MY GOSH, it’s so dumb.”

......orz I feel like Genya looking back at how he acted at the end of the Final Selection. I'm sorry, Gotouge, I had not even encountered your love for these characters yet in your little alligator form. Nor had I encountered the yet unseen-sides of these traumatized dragons and tigers. ...*coughs* Um. So. I was pretty harsh.

So this was my mindset, I went into the manga not caring about most of these characters and just wanting more Kamaboko squad interactions and wanting to hurry up and catch up to the battle with Muzan. And it's worth stating that I didn't mean to read it at first. I encountered a few spoilers, and just wanted to look for the context surrounding those parts, and then hunt for the (non-existent) build-up to those parts, and so... uh.........

I read a lot of the manga out of order, and yeah, that did affect how much I cared about what was going on. I didn't actually properly process a lot of it until later re-reads. But to try to state some things simply about each Pillar:

Giyuu: He was just 'ok' to me for a long time, I could see the appeal for why people I knew were fangirling over him but he didn't do it for me. His soft spot for Tanjiro was indeed endearing, though, and I firmly liked him by the time chapter 200 came out and I was properly heartbroken on his behalf.

Shinobu: She was intriguing, and then I liked her as soon as I saw her savage side, she was one of the characters I went hunting for spoilers for.

Rengoku: That stare really put me off at first, but I fell for him over the process of Tanjiro falling for him. When I first finished the train arc I sat back and said, "wow! That's going to make for a good movie!" and then in psyching myself out for the movie several months in advance, I fell hook, line, and sinker and was totally excited for him each time I saw the trailers. And then the movie was *stunning* and I love him even more. Uzui: He was the Pillar I hated most upon first meeting them. I blame the repeated use of his catchphrase. But then when he let his hair down to sell the kiddos the change in design helped warm me up more to him, like, "oh, there was a human in there." It took a long time for him to become more interesting to me, and an uncharacteristically subtle journey to becoming a character I liked. I am currently getting more and more psyched out for him and eager to see how much more I'm going to like him with the shiny Ufotable treatment. Mitsuri: At first I didn't remember her name, I had code-named her as "Boobs." But I kinda had a feeling she was going to grow on me quickly, and I was right, she's one of my easy favorites now. Muichiro: Who? Oh yeah, that kid who always kinda fell to the wayside in my attention. I'd see a lot of Muichiro-themed blogs and hear a lot of little girls looking at merch and showing a clear favoritism of him, and I'd like always react like Muichiro and just be like, "...", and then when I read his major battles I was more emotionally invested in things going on concurrently with other characters, and I was still like, "...", and then two days ago I revisited a Muichiro scene and was suddenly like, "......OH!!! MUICHIRO!!!!!" Himejima: I never really hated Himejima, even if I found his first impression kind of wimpy (haha... oh, I was so wrong). I had a pretty easy acceptance of him too, so I would generally count him among characters I like, but if you were to ask me why, I'd draw a blank. It's kind of a weirdly mature, subdued appreciation for him rather than passionate fangirling. But weirdly when I was daydreaming the other day I found myself thinking, "if I had to marry someone in the KnY cast, it would be Himejima." So like, not a fiery romance, but I see him as my dependable, sturdy rock to grow old with??? What is up with you, sub-conscious?? Iguro: My interest in him rises and falls. Being a Mitsuri fan helped warm me up to his character in the first place, which was the emotional tie I needed since his backstory didn't grip me much (I found it a frustrating distraction while I was desperately reading weekly updates). Reading more subtle details about his character in the fanbooks has brought me around and made me more curious about him, like I'd really like to be a fly on the wall for the conversation he had with Uzui one day about their pasts.

Sanemi: Hahaha, wow. He was so unlikable in the beginning, wasn't he? His character design (yeah, the eyes) was really off-putting too. But then I got to know him and there was no going back, I got totally played. He's a character I'm pretty fond of now and one of the characters I've enjoyed delving into most in fanfic. To keep this answer from getting too long, for the vaaaaaast majority of the cast, I was initially like, "meh" or "OK" or "ew" but now am like, "EEEEEEEEE, I LOVE THIS TOTALLY RANDOM UNIMPORTANT SIDE CHARACTERRRRRRR" so you know... times change. And the more time I spend obsessed with Kimetsu no Yaiba, the more I like them all, so even the characters I'm lukewarm on will probably have their eventual days when they take over my heart and smash it.

#what do I even tag this?#it's not meta or nerdery #it's just me being a fangirl #Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayer

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padmerrie · 3 years

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I want you to know that I think about your drawing of Kakashi and Sasuke with the cat every day. I just can't deal with it its too much his lil shoes gaaaahhh I'm weeping. And now I can't stop thinking about kakashi tying the laces of Sasuke's lil baby star shoes while he pitches a fit about the cat. (Btw what is the cat's name this is very important information I must have)

I’m sorry it took me so long to respond to this, but I am not exaggerating when I say that your message made my year lol. I basically live in this AU now so for someone to actually like my silly, self-indulgent art enough to take the time to message me about it was just

My sister @panharmonium and I are watching Naruto for the first time (we haven’t finished yet, so no spoilers please! <3) and while there’s a lot that we love about it, we are particularly obsessed with Kakashi and Sasuke, so an Adopted!Sasuke AU was inevitable. I call it Bookends. There’s a summary on my AO3, but the “story” has evolved since then. It’s loosely based on Gilmore Girls. Yes, you heard that right - Gilmore Girls, the tv show about the mother/daughter duo who love coffee and talk fast. The universe is built on three basic pillars:

1. After Itachi supposedly murders his family and disappears, Sasuke is left in the hands of his estranged relative, Madara. Gramps has grand plans for Obito to raise Sasuke and mold him into the next great Uchiha, but Kakashi knows that Obito isn’t ready for that level of responsibility and sensing his friend cracking under the pressure, steps in at the final hour - much to Madara’s disapproval. Obito splits. Drama ensues.

2. Kakashi raises Sasuke with the help of 8 dogs, 1 cat, and lots and lots of caffeine.

3. When Sasuke is accepted into his dream school, Kakashi goes to Madara and Hashirama (who are married, duh) and asks for their help in paying the tuition. In exchange for their help, Madara demands that they have a more active role in Sasuke’s life, and thus begins a new era for Kakashi's relationship with the Uchiha.

Aside from those three “plot points”, it’s all just domestic funtimes with my faves bc who needs plot?

It’s funny that the shoes became a Thing bc I HATE drawing them and am very bad at it (hence why Kakashi is still in his socks lol). But kids shoes are so much cooler than adults, you now? And then I got to thinking about how *not* superficial Sasuke is, but I can totally picture him walking past a store with Kakashi while they’re out walking the dogs and he sees these crazy cool shoes on display in the window. And every time after that, the street that this store is on is suddenly a permanent fixture on their walk. No matter where they’re headed somehow they always manage to find themselves on this street. But Sasuke is too stubborn to actually say what he wants, so for weeks Kakashi just watches him gaze longingly at this pair of shoes every time they walk by. Until one day, they get to the store and the shoes are gone. Sasuke doesn’t say anything, but he’s crushed. He’s surly the rest of the walk and when they get home, he stomps off to his room - where he finds the shoes sitting sparkly and new on the edge of his bed. :’)

(also - this is in no way discouraging you to cease daydreaming about Kakashi tying Sasuke’s shoes bc this is a very worthwhile way to spend your time and I fully support you in that endeavor - but I actually made Sasuke’s shoes velcro bc heaven forbid he let someone help him tie his shoes XD)

Yes, the cat does have a name! It’s Tabi, like the traditional Japanese socks (courtesy of pan’s research). Sasuke wanted to name him something cool, but Naruto, who famously calls everyone by an obvious nickname (i.e. Lee = Bushy Brow), took one look at kitty’s white double-pawed paws and immediately christened him with Tabi. Try as he might, he couldn’t get Tabi to answer to anything else after that. The next time Naruto comes knocking on their door to see if Sasuke's home, Sasuke tries to convince Kakashi to pretend they moved.

#naruto #naruto au #bookends #sasuke uchiha #kakashi hatake #replies #sea-ember #thank you again for the best message ever!!!#<3

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lordseochangbin · 4 years

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Soulmate AU- Yang Jeongin

A/N: This probably isn’t my best writing but it is a really cute read for Jeongin <3

Word Count: 2130

It was no mistake this time. At first, Jeongin assumed maybe it was the boys messing with him, writing on his hand when he fell asleep and claiming not to minutes later. It was always a mystery to him, how beautifully drawn objects would magically appear on his arm. After noticing it a few times however, Jeongin seemed to mind it less. That was until he got caught for it.

“What is this?? On your arm?” Jeongin’s makeup artist asked, holding his hand up to reveal the small designs printed across it.

“Oh! Nothing..” Jeongin smiled nervously, slowly pulling his hand away from the makeup artist’s grip before she could explain, “We’re going to have to wash this off Jeongin, you’re wearing short-sleeve”

Jeongin rolled his eyes, of course his soulmate had to draw on their hand right at this moment. The lady practically dragged Jeongin to the nearest sink, lounging his arm in the water and scrubbing as hard as she could. “What is this?! Sharpie??”

“Umm.. I’m not sure” Jeongin muttered, making the lady groan. “We’re going to have to make you wear something long-sleeved.” As much as Jeongin hated wearing long-sleeves during a concert, he knew it was what he had to do. He had only been in Seoul City for a week but the drawings on his arms were getting bolder- more prominent. Little did he know that was where his soulmate lived.

----

A loud shriek came from your sister’s room. God, it took you by surprise, causing you to jump in your seat and make a mistake on your new mural.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T GO??!!” Your sister exclaimed on her phone, “We planned this for so long..” A few seconds later you hear your sister barging into your room, you quickly throw a sheet over your art. Cursing yourself you thought about the paint which still wasn’t dry, either way you already messed up because of your sister.

“Hey, you have to go to the Stray Kids concert with me, my friend just cancelled”

You nearly choked on your spit, how could she ask you to go to a concert that was going to begin in a few hours?

“Um no? I have artwork to do” You replied, shoo-ing her out of your room and slamming the door just for her to open it again.

“Does it look like I care? Quit talking about your dream of making art and come with me. It’ll be fun!” She said, giving her fakest smile before leaving the room.

“God, I seriously can’t-” You took a deep breath to calm yourself down before getting ready and leaving for the concert.

----

On your way to the concert, you looked out the window to admire the view. A pen inside the cup holder had you writing things on your hand, one thing stood out to Jeongin when he saw it appear on his as well.

SKZ

“S-stray kids?!” Jeongin gasped to himself before putting his hands behind his back.

“What are you looking at?” Hyunjin asked with a smile as he approached the boy. “Nothing!” Jeongin giggled before continuing his exercises.

---

You had to admit, even though you had never listened to Stray Kids, the adrenaline that ran through you during the concert lasted the whole two hours and was still with you as you got ready for the Hi-Touch.

“So basically, all you do is give them a high five! Pretty cool right!” Your sister exclaimed.

“You paid $200 to give them a high five?”

Your sister rolled your eyes, leaning closer to you before whispering, “So here is my plan, when I see Chan- one of my favorite members- I’m going to try to interlace my fingers!!” She squealed as your face turned into a look of disgust.

“God you’re obsessed” You muttered before security could place you in line.

Waiting in line, you couldn’t help but to feel a tingle from your arm. God, was it an allergic reaction? Maybe the ink from your sister’s pen wasn’t vibing with your skin. You looked at the small roses and flowers that adorned your skin, the ink suddenly blackening, darkening in color. You could feel each line piercing through your skin the closer you got.

With a small smile you approached the boys, your heart beating out of your chest. “Hi!” You exclaimed as the boys greeted you. One by one, the members' faces came and went until one locked with yours. A shocked expression.

Your eyes met Jeongin’s before it could interfere with the contact of your palms, his long sleeve shirt peeking down just enough for you to see a small flower that mirrored the flower on your right hand.

Jeongin stared at the flowers on your skin as well. Was this it? Was he your soulmate?

“Hey! Stop holding back the line!” The voice took you by surprise, unlatching your hand from Jeongin’s and turning to see your sister being pulled by security as she tried to hold onto Bang Chan’s hand.

“I WON’T LET GOOOO” Your sister cried before you could pull her away, apologizing to the boys and leading her outside of the venue.

“Are you insane?!” You scolded her, “Go to the restroom and clean your face, this concert had you crying buckets”

Your sister nodded in response, the sound of a few sniffles heard before she could go to the restroom.

----

When hi-touch is over, Jeongin quickly rushes to the dressing room. He doesn’t hesitate to pass the staff and members, shutting the door behind him as he looks around. How could he get your attention? You were his soulmate, the one making all these drawings on his arms, on his body. He adored your art, especially the one on his inner thigh, a simply smiley face that made him laugh every time he saw it. But was it a two way route? Could he possibly draw something on his arm and have it appear on yours as well? It was worth the shot.

Taking a pen from Hyunjin’s bag, Jeongin quickly scribbed Stay, don’t go on his arm- hoping that you would receive his message.

----

In the car you find yourself watching outside as the city starts to build up with lights. The view is beautiful, breathtaking as you take out a pen and draw and your bare skin that wasn’t inked.. until you find out that it is.

The words Stay, don’t go mark behind your wrist, grabbing your attention as you get out of the car.

“Where are you going?” Your sister asks before you could leave.

“I’ll be back” You simply reply. Getting a phone call from her friend, your sister dismisses you as you find yourself running back to the venue from the words on your hand.

----

Maybe it was a waste of time. You’d been here for what felt like hours, looking for a sign or some sort of message to tell you that you weren’t crazy. To tell you that the boy from that band did have your drawings on his arm. To tell you that the words written on your hand were written by him.

Your fingers line the drawings on your skin, wondering how soulmates link to mirror such drawings. Just how lucky you were to have found yours.

“You’re my soulmate” You heard. Looking up in front of you was Jeongin, standing proud in a purple tee and sweats.

Getting up from the floor, you faced him, eyeing his drawings that looked just like yours. “I am..?” you whispered before he could pull you into a hug.

“Jeongin what-”

“Shh..” He whispered, holding you closer against him. “I always wondered who was behind these drawings, always something different everyday, I love them”

“You love them?” You replied, grabbing his hand with a light grasp. “How can you love them?”

“What do you mean? They’re amazing y/n, I feel almost honored to have your art on me…”

You smiled at his words. Keeping your talent of art from your disappointed parents, always being told that art was a waste of time from your sister, and now finally here you were- being told by your soulmate that he loved your art.

“Don’t tell me that’s the first time you’ve heard that,” Jeongin said before taking his hand in yours. “Can you show me what else you’ve done?”

----

You and Jeongin sat down on a blanket in the middle of your room as you showcased all your works to him, pulling out each sheet to reveal your works that he continuously praised. He was by far impressed, and even though you two had known each other for less than a day it felt like you had known him for your entire life.

“So.. the drawing of a dog that you drew on your leg a few years back was your dog?!” Jeongin asked as he eyed the pictures of your family and friends on the wall.

“Yeah!! And remember the women I drew on hand, that was Julia Roberts” You giggled, watching as he gasped in shock. “No wonder I recognized that face!”

When Jeongin paced around your room, he noticed the painting from earlier, covered with a green sheet. “What’s this?!”

“Oh don’t look at-” You said before he could pull the sheet over. It was your incomplete work from before the concert, the one you spilled paint all over when your sister forced you to go to the concert.

“Why not?” Jeongin said, crossing his arms and touching the wet paint.

“Because… it’s not finished and it’s really bad” Jeongin frowned, dipping his finger in the paint before swiping some on your face.

“Hey!!” You chuckled, getting some paint on your hands and rubbing it on his cheek. Before you two knew it, you were a laughing mess- throwing bits of paint and taking brushes to paint each other. Your room was a mess but you didn’t even care at this point, you hadn’t felt this happy this much in a long time and you would do anything to live in this moment forever.

Soon enough, Jeongin was drawing on your face with red paint, the two of you on the floor giggling from the adrenaline.

“Your art isn’t bad y/n, I’m going to make sure the rest of the world can see it”

“What?” You said, keeping eye contact with him as he closed you against the wooden floor. You could almost hear his heart beating against your chest, his breath fanning against your lips. You two were getting closer and closer by the second and you just wanted to hold him forever.

“Your art is beautiful y/n, just like you” He smiled before pressing a kiss on your lips.

You blushed at the sudden action, realizing your eyes had fluttered shut and your arms had wrapped around his neck.

As you leaned closer for another kiss, you heard the sound of your front door opening, quickly alarming your senses. “Oh my god, that’s my sister!”

“Your sister?” Jeongin asked, watching as you opened your room window.

“Jeongin you have to get out”

“What?! Through the window??”

“My sister is a huge fan of Stray Kids, remember how she was holding that one boy during hi-touch? If she sees you she’ll literally freak.”

“Alright, alright” Jeongin said, walking towards the window.

“We’ll meet again y/n” He said, placing a kiss on your lips before crawling out the window.

“Bye Jeongin” You pouted, closing the window before you sister could open the door.

“Oh my god, what is this mess?”

----

After dinner, you plop onto your bed, smiling at your artwork that you had unveiled in your room. Remembering how happy Jeongin was when he saw them, you wondered if you should put them out for the public to see. His reaction made you feel more confident, despite what your family had to say about it. You knew at heard that you carried a talent, and now you knew you had a soulmate as well.

Pulling the covers over your head, you grab a pen from your nightstand and draw Jeongin’s name with a heart around it on your hand.

The ink tracing on his hand took him by surprise, the members crowding his hotel room as he sat on his bed, getting ready to rest for the day. The night itself was overwhelming, but Jeongin was happy to have met the girl of his dreams and he’s glad he didn’t miss out on kissing you.

Putting his phone to the side, Jeongin noticed the small message on his hand, a small smile creeping on his face as he grabbed the hotel provided pen and wrote your name with a heart by it.

#jeongin fluff #jeongin imagines #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin imagines #yang jeongin fluff #yang jeongin x reader #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #kpop imagines #kpop fluff

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years

Text

The Best Things ~ J.V. (part 11)

A/n: Don’t mind me, updating a series no one cares about lol. I’ve been toeing the line of what he’s like in other fanficiton and fans’ minds, but with this one I may just cover a side of Jerome y’all might really believe is out of character. I don’t care though. I’m having fun exploring a character and I’m having fun.

Word Count: 5400+

MASTERLIST

There was something different about waking up in the morning to Jerome still being asleep next to you. Or at least that's how Harley felt. Especially because this never happened, and considering what had happened last night. Maybe that was it. The night before was the main thing on Harley's mind as he slowly woke up, his head immediately filling with the memory as if denying him even a second dog bliss from it.

If he was being honest, it made him both terrified and exhilarated. They'd never had sex like that before. Slow and tender and soft. Words of praise had poured from Jerome's mouth nonstop, and it had sent Harley's body in a different way. Rather than fireworks, it was more like lava under rocks. Searing heat that crept through Harley's veins like it was trying to sneak. It made Harley feel infinitely close to Jerome. Made him feel tethered to Jerome. He'd never felt anything like that before, and from Jerome's reactions neither had he. It also gave both men a new fear. Or, a deeper rooted hold on a fear that already existed at the very least.

What if this ended?

What if neither man felt this ever again?

What if they'd unveiling something in themselves last night... and now, in the day time, the other didn't like it?

It was then that Jerome turned, facing Harley, where he'd had his back turned before. "I'm sorry about your friend." His voice was quiet, and Jerome wouldn't look at him.

Harley was surprised by that. He scooted closer, resting his forehead on Jerome's chest. The red head pulled the other man's body closer, tucking Harley against Jerome's own frame. He held onto him, protecting him from the world for a second. It was empowering when Harley leaned into it immediately, reaching his hands so he fisted Jerome's shirt so hard his knuckles turn white.

Jerome had never been comforting before. Safe. He'd never had someone take refuge in him before. It was intoxicating. It made him feel strong and unbreakable. It was more of a high than he'd ever felt before. Maybe just as good as when he put his little shows on and watched people panic and squirm. Harley finding safety in this moment was on par with all the moments other people had found danger in Jerome.

I guess when all you get is the same thing all your life, even if it's good, something new can have a strong effect on a man. Jerome had always been fear personified. He'd been a walking weapon of death and destruction, and somehow in that chaos Harley found himself making a home. It made Jerome feel incredible. Maybe he wasn't as bad as everyone thought.

"Can I see those drawings you did last night?" Harley leaned back so they were looking at each other. Jerome had an odd expression on his face. Not the one Bruce and Jeremiah wore when they looked at each other, but a very close approximation. It made Harley's heart pick up.

"Sure." He slid out of bed to pad to the living room, snagging his drawing pad and returning with it. He sat in bed this time, extending the drawing pad so Jerome could grab it.

The red head say up as well, taking the pad from Harley and beginning to slowly look through it. He took longer than Harley though he had the attention span for, drinking in the different angles and shadows of his own face. He seemed to be scanning it. At one point he reached up and touched his face, his eyebrows coming together. "What are you thinking, J?"

Jerome looked up, a look of concern and confusion on his face. "Is this really how you see me?"

It was Harley's turn to be confused. "What are you talking about?"

He seemed to struggle to explain a few seconds before weakly offering, "I'm beautiful." He immediately scowled. "You make me look... good looking." A deeper scowl. "I mean, I know I'm sexy don't get me wrong, but the way you draw me looks... looks..."

"Pretty?" Harley offered.

"Yes," Jerome groaned, like it hurt him.

Harley bit his lip for a second, thinking. "To me, you were always a work of art. Even before I drew you." He looked at the bed, fingers fiddling with the blanket. "You used to come to my mind all the time when you were dead. I thought of you constantly. Went to therapy over it because they thought it was a side effect of trauma." He snorted, shaking his head. "Turns out I was just infatuated with you." He looked back at Jerome then. "You came to me in dreams when I finally learned how to control my thoughts when awake. Even before we met that day, in person, I was obsessed with you. I used to draw you all the time. I told myself that it was to deal with the trauma of my parents dying, my fixation on death and murderers. People that were considered psychotic and dangerous. And maybe it was, in part. Maybe it began that way. But ever since the first second I saw you, you became this beacon of hope. Hope that in some world, with someone, I could be free from expectation and restrictions. That I could be wild and have fun and be GAY and not have to worry about what other people thought. You stood for the happiness I've been denied since the first day time I ever found anyone attractive." He paused. "Helped that you were incredibly attractive." Jerome giggled at that and Harley's smile widened. "You're so silly." Jerome scooted closer, kissing Harley so deeply he lost all of his breath. He leaned away after too short a time though, tilting his head. "Let's do something fun today."

"Like what?" Harley asked. He was getting good at keeping track with Jerome's zipping thought train.

Considering, Jerome grew quiet. "I want to take you on a date. Something nice." Harley deflated. "It's not smart to go out right now. We're trying to convince Bruce and the police that you're dead. If you're seen it'll all be over."

Jerome pouted. "Let me take you somewhere."

A long sigh came from Harley. "Do you want to die?" Jerome shook his head no. "Do you want to get caught and sent to Arkham?" Another silent no. "Then what the hell do you suppose we do that won't require any people, when we're in the middle of a huge city?"

Quiet groans and Jerome was flopping back on the bed, making Harley smile fondly. "I can't stay here forever, Harley! It's BORING. You get to go out all the time and check in on our dear brothers. Why don't I get to?"

"Because you'd be found out," Harley reminded patiently. "And entrapped. Or killed. Or entrapped and then killed."

There was a pause where Jerome was quiet. "You must go to Jeremiah's again and get me new information." Harley nodded, moving to get off the bed so he could get ready to head out. Jerome was suddenly moving though, pinning him before he could leave all the way. "But before you do that, I would like you to leave me with something to think about. Something to make this day a little more worth it." He licked his lips. "Entertain me, Harley." His eyes darkened and Harley shivered.

"Yes sir." - "Hey Harley!" Jeremiah greeted brightly. Harley chuckled at the boy. How was he twins with Jerome? That lightness and energy came so easily to this man, where Jerome struggled to even accept the idea of adorableness, let alone embody it constantly. But this wasn't the time to think about Jerome. "How did your date with the boy wonder go?" Jeremiah was bouncing on his toes. It was genuinely adorable. "He kissed me."

Harley launched to his feet. "What?" He was grinning, hands outstretched as if deciding on whether to grab him or pump into the air victoriously.

"Yeah!" Jeremiah squeaked.

"That's awesome!" Harley gushed. "Tell me everything! Wait- where's Ecco?"

"I already told her," Jeremiah dismissed, waving his hand through the air. "She picked me up afterward and I filled her ears with it all the way home.

Harley giggled, his nose scrunching in amusement. "I bet she loved that." Jeremiah blushed and Harley winked, nudging his friend playfully. "Okay well now it's my turn. Every detail Jeremiah, I'm serious."

And the red head eagerly delivered. The two boys talked for hours, going from the date and all that happened right into Harley waltzing around the room dramatically planning the wedding and the house and family that would follow. "You'll definitely need at least one dog. You both seem like cat people, but I bet your ass that you two raise a kid willing to rough house with a dog. It's got to be huge then. Like so big toddlers can ride on its back, and whenever it wants to go anywhere it'll just drag you along even if you want to go somewhere else."

At this point Jeremiah had covered his face, laying his hands on the counter and his head in the palms of his hands. "Please stop," he groaned, but both boys knew he had to hide his expression or risk showing off the radiant smile he'd hinted at earlier.

"Fine fine fine," Harley sighed, finally sitting back down. He chuckled, sitting back in the chair. He was lounging, legs spread and arms over the back of his seat. He looked comfortable. It was so different than the Wayne boy that had been seen on TV for years. The one Bruce talked about even. Harley really wasn't Y/n. He was... too much like Jerome to ever be that boy again. "What's with the frown?" Harley asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jeremiah debated on whether he should share his thoughts, but Harley leaned forward, showing that he knew Jeremiah was thinking something and that he wouldn't let it drop. Having gotten to the point where Harley could always pry information out of Jeremiah, the redhead didn't even bother fighting him. "I was thinking about how much you remind me of Jerome." Harley hesitated and Jeremiah rushed to add, "Not in a bad way. But your confidence and ease. Your very presence is so much bigger than it used to be. I didn't know you back then, but Bruce has mentioned how you guys used to be. Mostly because he obsesses over the worry that Jerome is still alive so it comes up often, because I always listen. Once he mentions Jerome, then we talk about how things were in my childhood and then it goes to how his childhood used to be and then you come up." He looked away, obviously self conscious about the way Harley's eyes were drilling into him.

"Do you lie to him?"

That caught Jeremiah off guard. "What?" He looked back with an expression like a deer in the headlights, or a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Jerome talked to me a lot." Harley watched his words carefully, being sure not to reveal that Jerome STILL talked to him just as much. "And that day in the tunnels, when Jerome tried to kidnap you. He said you lied about your guys' past."

Jeremiah was quiet for a long time. "I don't lie to him." He paused again and Harley waited for him to continue. When Jeremiah realized Harley wasn't going to let it go, he continued. "I don't tell him what I used to tell our mom. I'm... ashamed. You were right when you said I contributed a lot to how Jerome turned out. But, you have to understand Harley he terrified me. He never threatened me per say, but I was the one who always found the bodies of the animals he mutilated. I was the one he talked about to his fantasies about other people. He... He used to say he was joking, and he never did anything until our mom, from what I know, but he was curious and he didn't have the same empathy as everyone else did. For animals at least."

Harley sighed. "He loved me." Jeremiah looked up sharply. "He told me so. And- and you know what, I believed him." Harley swallowed. "Did I ever tell you how we found out where you were?" Jeremiah hesitated before shaking his head. "Would you like to know?" There was a darkness in Harley's voice. One that made Jeremiah want to shy away. But, he was curious too. It was one of the fatal flaws him and Jerome had in common. So, even though he wanted to run, he nodded instead. "We went to your Uncle Zack's."

Immediately Jeremiah cringed. "Oh god."

"So you know what that man is capable of then," Harley eased, even though his expression had not changed at all. It was the same forced calm that Jerome had perfected. The similarity between Harley and Jeremiah's lost brother in that moment made anxiety twist in the redhead's chest. "You know, if I hadn't been there..." He shook his head. "He heated soup to boiling. He wanted to pour it into Jerome's mouth. Thank god I was there to stop that one. What would it have bee like, being a child against grown adults. No where to run, no one to turn to, and no mercy in sight. No reprieve. If I was Jerome, I probably would have killed that bitch you called your mother too."

Harley expected Jeremiah to snap at him, but he didn't. It made the air get even more thick with dark tension. It set into reality not only what Harley had said, but what Jeremiah wouldn't. That he would have too. "I think I'm going to go work on my prototypes." Harley didn't say anything, so Jeremiah left him alone in the quiet.

There was a part of Harley that felt bad for ruining the mood after they'd both been flying so high earlier, but there was also a part of him that didn't care. So he stood up and left through the maze, standing outside to get some air. To breathe after the stifling pressure inside. He hesitated too long, though. If he had just left right then and headed back to Jerome and forgotten about the conversation for the rest of the day, he would have made it out of there with plenty of time. But he didn't. He hesitated and and he breathed and he closed his eyes and felt the sun on his skin.

That was what gave Bruce the time he needed to pull up to Jeremiah's front door just to see Harley standing there. The boy tripped as he got out of the car, his eyes wide and lips parted. "Y/n?"

Harley jerked at the name, flinching away from it. It eyes slammed open, his gaze hard and angry. After the conversation he'd just had with Jeremiah, he was not in the right place to face his brother. Yet, here they both were. "Mr. Wayne," Harley greeted bitterly.

Bruce looked like Harley had slapped him. "Where have you been?" He shook his head. "Where's Jerome?" He then remembered where they were and looked between Harley and the door that lead to the maze where Bruce's boyfriend was. "Why are you here?"

The chaotic barrage of questions made Harley relax. He had the control in this situation. "I'm here because Jeremiah lets be stay here, when I want to. I check in sometimes and talk to him." Any other answer would get him in trouble, and he didn't feel like setting off his brother so he stayed with the truth, ignoring the other two questions.

The Wayne boy stepped forward, settling on angry between the emotions he'd been battling before. "You're friends with Jeremiah?"

"Sort of," Harley shrugged. "And by the way, it's Harley."

Hands curled into fists and Harley found himself slipping into a sort of distant amusement. His stance solidified, arms relaxing and fingers twitching at his sides. Bruce got hit with the same thought Jeremiah had been before. Harley looked a lot like Jerome in that moment, but more sane. In control. He didn't have that same unhinged factor, which left him far more unpredictable. Harley had the air of someone who would kill everyone in the room and then get away with it. Not for chaos' sake, but because he simply didn't care. Seeing sanity int he face of someone so cold and distant and confident sent a chill down Bruce's spine. What had happened to the brother who radiated sunshine and painted the most odd paintings with even weirder origin stories? The brother that couldn't handle even a little confrontation, let alone stand empty handed and still look dangerous? "I guess it is." Bruce's voice was soft and broken. His anger had fallen away, exchanging for a heart break that made Harley shift away from it like it burned him.

The door behind Harley opened. "Wait wait wait!" The voice belonged to Jeremiah, who was scrambling between the brothers as if trying to stop a fight. Maybe it would have eventually turned into that, but as of now all that was happening was Bruce was staring a Harley, looking for answers, and Harley was looking anywhere except at his brother as he refused to give them.

"You know," Harley mused. "I seem to be ruining the mood a lot today. You two love birds spend time together and I'll keep my distance so that my unhappiness won't affect you. How does that sound?"

Jeremiah launched forward, catching Harley's shoulder. "Please," he begged softly. "Don't go."

"Do you want him to leave instead, because I can promise it won't be pretty if we're both here," Harley spat viciously. Jeremiah recognized a deeper level to the boy though. A hurt that was curling into his face. There was more than just anger driving him to run now. There was fear, and pain. Jeremiah had seen that look on Jerome's face far too many times to let Harley go now.

Jeremiah looked at Bruce. "Listen," he sighed heavily. "You're both important to me. I have three friends, and one of them is more of a body guard who's paid to hang around, and another is... more than a friend, if I'm lucky." Bruce couldn't help how his face softened. Jeremiah cleared his throat. "I need as many people in my life as I can get, because I already basically have no one. You guys are brothers, for goodness sake. Don't let life tear you apart like I let happen for me and Jerome." This he directed at Harley. The words seemed to confuse Bruce, but he stayed quiet despite that.

Harley on the other hand looked ready to go. "He doesn't want me here."

"I didn't say that," Bruce rushed before he could rein his self control.

Jeremiah perked up. "You're the one person that can actually reassure Bruce that Jerome is dead."

Ah, how wrong he was. Harley could not honestly reassure Bruce that Jerome was dead. He could, however, convince Bruce that Jerome was dead- and he was also the only person who could. No matter how much of Harley Bruce saw, every time the Wayne heir looked at the man who used to be his best friend, he would always see Y/n. Y/n, who had never once been capable of hiding his emotions or even considering telling a lie, let alone delivering one convincingly. Y/n, who had always valued honesty - especially when it came to family. Who valued trust over power. Who had been abused and pushed around and broken and destroyed, replaced by someone who used lies to get what he wanted like one uses hammers to drive in nails. Harley would lie without hesitation or regret, and Bruce would believe him because Y/n wouldn't lie, and even if he did, Bruce would be able to tell.

"I killed him myself," Harley reassured, looking Bruce in the eye without hesitation.

Bruce formed an expression that spoke of disbelief and doubt, but Harley could see through that into the desperation in Bruce's eyes. "You killed him?"

Harley sighed. "I do that now."

Obviously Bruce didn't like that, but he seemed to accept it at least. "Why?"

This part was easy. "Because he hurt you." Harley shrugged, kicking the dirt under his foot. "He had no reason to involve you. He just did. He didn't even consult me, and he didn't because he knew that if he had I would have said no. We had a deal- no touching you. He might be my partner, but you're my brother and that's more important. No one hurts you. I made that clear since the beginning." He swallowed. That wasn't totally true. In fact, that day he had encouraged Jerome to mess Bruce up a little. Even kill him. But there had been a hesitance to hurt Bruce since the first day even if it had faded over time. Because the truth was, above even Bruce and Alfred, Jerome was the most important person to Harley now. "He was jealous because I cared more about you. He's kind of an attention whore." That was true. Not that Jerome was jealous, but that he was a slut for attention. The more time Harley spent with him, the more obvious it became. Harley didn't mind in the least though.

Bruce seemed to take a moment to consider this and choose his next words before he spoke again. "He sounds obsessive."

Jeremiah scoffed. "If I had to describe Jerome in one words," he mumbled.

"When I was caught with Jerome at the fair, I only ended up there because the first thing Jerome thought about when he came back from the dead was that the last thing he'd thought about when he was alive was that he'd wanted to kill me." Harley scoffed. "He took his wanting to kill me through death with him. If that doesn't spell obsessed, I don't know what does." That was another truth, but yet again Harley didn't mind. He liked to think of being on Jerome's mind, haunting him as the red head had haunted Harley. He liked the thought that not even death could do them part. Or however that line went, whatever.

There was a sort of melting slouch of Bruce's shoulders. He'd given in. Harley had succeeded. "We're not just going to be brothers again. Neither of us are the same."

"The last time I saw you my boyfriend was trying to kill you, and before that I was convinced you'd been brainwashed by some cult, so yeah we have some catching up to do."

Bruce looked at Jeremiah who perked up. "Wonderful! Dinner, anyone?"

"Actually," Harley edged. "I think we both have a lot to think about. Maybe rushing it all tonight wouldn't be the best idea." For the first time in a long time, Bruce nodded in agreement with Harley. In fact, it had probably been the first time Bruce had agreed with Harley since he had stopped being Y/n Wayne.

"Fine," Jeremiah sighed. "But I expect you two to have a dinner together within the next week. I won't let you just avoid it."

Harley sighed and nodded, turning away from the other two boys and heading toward his car. "Use protection!" Harley called, smirking when he heard the boys behind him groan in unison. Before they could curse him though, he slipped into his car and closed the door, cutting off any attempts of communication. He turned his car on and drove away, letting his smile melt away when he was positive he was out of view. His hands tightened on the wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. His jaw locked, beginning to hurt after a few seconds it was cemented so. Not wanting to get pulled over when he was in a car that wasn't technically in his name - he'd gotten it a long time ago when he still worked with Penguin - and was, more importantly, a wanted criminal. Focusing on safe driving only got him to the front door though. He slammed it closed, standing in his doorway glaring at the floor.

And then he snapped.

A scream ripped out of him as he reached for the closest things light enough to pick up and began throwing them across the room. Some - a vase, a few dishes that hadn't been taking to the kitchen yet, a table decoration - shattered, while most of it landed safely after crashing into more things - books slamming into chairs, pillows knocking things off the wall, a shoe hitting the edge of a full length mirror hard enough that it tilted, so on. Altogether, he was creating a lot of noise, destruction, and chaos.

Jerome ran into the scene, looking rather startled. Harley wasn't the angry type. He had never been, except the rare times Penguin had been able to unlock long since buried trauma that he wasn't dealing with. Oswald had taught him to both control AND channel his emotions, so that they could be expressed but also make you look more terrifying rather than show as weaknesses and wear you away to nothing. No one had seen this side of Harley except him yet, and Jerome wasn't quite sure how to handle it. In fact, it reminded him a little of... his mom.

When Harley finally stopped, he turned away from Jerome, curling his fingers around his short hair very tightly, tugging as he planted his forehead against the wall furthest from Jerome. The redhead paused before slowly making his way over. "Harley?" His voice was soft. The anger in his boyfriend had unlocked a fear in him that he hadn't felt like this since he was a child. He was scared of Harley losing it again, both because he didn't want to have this feeling get worse, and also because if Harley was upset enough to melt down like this, he might get destructive with himself rather than loose objects.

Or worse, Harley might get destructive with Jerome.

"I'm sorry," Harley croaked. He took a deep breath, finally dropping his hands and leaning away from the wall before turning to Jerome. This was closer to the Harley Jerome knew. A little exhausted from his heavy emotions, but otherwise solid and in control. "I'm sorry J." His voice was stronger now. More fluid and solid. He saw Jerome's expression and slowly approached. Jerome didn't move away. When Harley touched him, Jerome didn't flinch even though his pulse skipped a beat. Not something totally new with Harley, except that this wasn't a good spike. The emotion he felt was new when it came to Harley. "I'm sorry," Harley said again, pulling Jerome to him until their foreheads touched. "Did I upset you?"

Jerome's brain had short circuited a bit. After being free of his mom for years, he'd grown a solid defense against things that reminded him of her. But Harley had waited until he was past all of Jerome's walls and defenses. Until he had become Jerome's home and safety embodied. Seeing such anger now threw Jerome for a loop. How would he leave Harley now if things got bad like it used to be with his mom? I had taken Jerome eighteen years to kill his mother and get away from her, and she had been... terrible. How would he do the same to Harley, who had claimed all of the most important parts of Harley and become essential to Jerome's insanity. Harley was the one who calmed him after nightmares, and defused a situation that set off something that triggered backlash from Jerome's past. Harley was the one who saved him from his uncle and his brother and his past. How would he get rid of someone like that?

"You looked... like her." The words were soft.

Harley froze. "Jerome-"

Jerome turned away and left. He said some joke but didn't hear it, too busy trying to think about how to backtrack and defend himself again from these emotions with Harley's help. "Never mind," he breathily dismissed, waving his hand in the air.

Harley wasn't having it though. He caught the hand, forcing Jerome to stop and face him. His face was serious, but his eyes were soft. "I would never hurt you, do you understand?I might what I said that day I pulled you from that ledge, Jerome Valeska. You lead, I will follow. I love you and I will do anything you ask of me. You don't have to be afraid of me. Even if i get angry and break shit, you are still safe with me."

"You're so dramatic," Jerome sighed, looping his arm over Harley's shoulders. His body had relaxed though. Even if he did a fantastic job of brushing things off and playing like nothing effected him, Harley's words had brought him a sense of peace he would never admit he needed. "I mean, anything? You won't even let me leave or kill our brothers."

Harley blew air out of his nose upon remembering Bruce. "If that's what you really want."

"Really?" Jerome faced him, surprised. Harley had been so adamant about doing neither for the last several weeks. Why change his mind now? Unlike Harley, Jerome was not a good people reader. Not for details, at least. He could tell when someone was scared of him, or when they were intrigued or interested or disgusted. He couldn't read Harley's micro signs though.

Harley rolled his eyes. "Ran into Bruce on my way back today." His lips curled but this time it didn't make Jerome nervous. He couldn't even think why Harley would remind him of his mother. Jerome broke things when he was angry too. Harley hadn't even know Jerome's mom. He was getting side tracked, but Harley spoke again, pulling his thoughts back as Harley's voice always did. "Jeremiah wants us to make amends and catch up. Wants us to spend dinner together. Ugh."

"My brother trying to make the world perfect for him?" Jerome joked. "Never."

Harley chuckled softly. No matter his state, Jerome could always make him laugh. "Yeah. I just- Bruce stills wants me to be that weak little scared boy I used to be. I'm better now. Happier and stronger. Maybe that scares him because I didn't succeed the way he wanted me to, but that doesn't change the fact that I can fight for myself now. I don't just settle and lie down and take shit. If he had it his way, along with everyone in this stupid city, I would sit in a chair in the corner of every room and sit in Bruce's shadow, there to talk to him when he needs company but otherwise be ignored and be okay with that. Alone, by myself, maybe with a girl who I can have kids with." He shuddered and Jerome followed with a scowl. Neither liked the idea of that, "Even worse, I'd be working for my younger brother. Working at Wayne incorporated, or as some sort of side kick as he stop bad guys or whatever." He grunted in disgust. "As if they even know what bad is."

Jerome pulled Harley toward the couch and next to him. When they were both seated, Jerome continued to tug on Harley until the boy curled into the redhead's side. All cuddled up, both seemed to feel a lot better with the words of a future that made both of them sick still ringing in their ears. "You know, if we're going back to being gay and doing crime and all that fun stuff, it might not hurt to be around your brother."

Harley sat up, eyebrows pulled together. "Why him? He's just a cop wannabe."

"He's friends with Gordon though, isn't he? Can you imagine how much power you had at your fingertips when everyone thought you were good and harmless and not even a wisp of a threat? Now you're none of those things, and the only person who knows your true potential is Mr. Penguin." He shrugged, his smile growing. "I've seen you do it before. Heard stories about your escapades with the Little Man, and you've told me before how valuable sneaking is. Never something I did because I never could have pulled it off, but you..." He pointed at Harley, getting excited now. "Why isn't Bruce following you around, or questioning you, or taking you to the police in an attempt to find me?"

Tracing the pattern of the couch, Harley tried not to smirk. "I told him what he wanted to hear."

The smirk that Harley was repressing shone on Jerome's face like light from the sun. Brilliant and bright. He hopped up onto the couch into a crouch, his fingers dancing in the air like he was constructing an orchestra. "What a clever boy. Deserves a reward..."

Now Harley grinned. "What did you have in mind?"

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kneamet · 3 years

Note

Reader and Freddie Page have three sons. Freddie is very proud of the boys. He is a good father. It's Christmas. Reader is crying in the bedroom. She wants to run away with boys from her husband, but she knows her sons love their father. Freddie comes to her. He says he knows she is thinking of running away. He promises her that if she does, he won't rest until he finds her.

Trigger Warning: kidnapping, obsession, yandere.

Word Count:

Character: Freddie Page/reader

Summary: You've been living in the house with your husband, Freddie, and your three sons for a long time. However, it's a pity that they don't know that you want to run away

POV Your

You didn't like Freddie Page. Although that was an understatement, because sometimes, but lately more and more often, you felt a fierce hatred for him. You didn't understand him. He was the exact opposite of you, and he forced you to do it.

But you knew you had to restrain yourself. That you should break off your "friendship" early and do not do it, since Freddie needs a huge psychological and moral support. You really tried to help him. Understand his feelings. However, in the end, all your thoughts and common-sense motives were stuck in a post. You didn't know what to do with it or how to help him.

Trying to get him out of the ' 40s and the war that Freddie went through with a lot of hard work, you didn't realize that you were bumping into Page's hard back, because you didn't need to understand him. Including at the very beginning and pay attention to it. Why did you go to the damn pub in the first place? I wouldn't have run into trouble and an unbearable friend in the person of Freddie.

And it seemed like everything started out fine, you could even say that it was good. However, after the support and the fact that he told you everything was getting worse. Again, you shouldn't have mentioned who you work for in your conversations.

You didn't get approval for your work from anyone. Including from Freddie. Apparently, he didn't want to accept that a delicate and delicate girl like you would do such things. But for you, it was normal.

Since then, Paige has taken too much care of you, even though you've rarely crossed paths. Unless it was just this obsessive presence and behavior on Freddie's part that really scared you.

How can you, a free woman who has achieved her own goal, be told anything? And then you didn't care about him or his feelings. You were just saying what you had to say. After all, you're not a car or a pet, you need freedom of action.

***

"...So you get the point, right? I tried to do it, but in the end... " you tried to listen to Freddie's never-ending chatter about the war. It was alien to you, you didn't want to listen to his speeches.

You sighed softly and looked at the door that was open. So wanted her to have gone from here. I wanted to. Yes, and this obsession. Since when does he have to know your schedule for the day? You always thought it was suspicious, but you didn't show it. I didn't want to spoil his mood.

"...So that's it..." without stopping, he continued, without stopping waving his hands. That was one of his tricks. He was so emotional."...When the Captain called me to his side..."

And you sighed softly again. No, it will never stop.

***

But now. You sighed softly. You couldn't change anything now. The Freddie of the new age is not at all like the old Freddie, who, although he was eerily obtrusive, at least supported you.

And the new Freddie... You sighed softly again, lowering your head. The new Freddie was terrible. Everything in the new age was terrible, except for your sons.

You gave me a weak, forced smile. They were the only ones who made you feel better in this prison. Your three favorite boys. The best and the cleanest.

Roger, Arthur, and Tommy. Their dark hair was passed down from their father and their beautiful soft eyes from their mother. They were all so different, but so smart beyond their years. Roger, for example, loved to draw and wanted to devote his whole life to art. You always told and encouraged him to ensure that he continued to draw and didn't give up. Arthur liked to design different buildings of houses. Tommy, your youngest son, very much and you would even say that a very long time ago-I saw myself as a military man. He was always your husband's favorite. Your face twitched involuntarily at the thought of Freddie being your husband.

You didn't want to think about it. For you, he has always been and always will be your captor, which is unlikely to ever let you go, and it was sad. You so wanted to break free, to see the white light again and enjoy the clean and fresh air. But Freddie never let you out into the street. Simply put, he almost strangled you with his annoying concern.

It was so stuffy. So unpleasant and suffocating. He made you just some kind of flawed girl that even a simple man's job can not do. Although that's what you used to do.

You didn't exactly call what Freddie did a kidnapping. Although he did not bring you to him by your will. Simply put, he made you, which always made you really angry.

You wanted to escape. Run away from this suffocating man, from this weather, and live a wonderful life again. That would be it... naturally. And you'd take your favorite boys with you, too. The only pity is that they loved their father too much.

Suddenly, a door creaked softly behind you. It was wooden and though new, but Freddie was never smart enough to lubricate it. He didn't seem to get tired of the squeaks. What not to say about you.

It wasn't just your husband who made you marry him that annoyed you, but the damn house you spent so many nights in trying to comfort Paige. But at this moment, and for the past few years, he seemed disgusting to you.

Although at first you thought Freddie was cute, but only if he looks good. Inside, morally, he was terrible and disgusting.

***

POV Freddie

He loved you. I loved him with all my heart. With all that heart that was literally sewn at the seams with a thin thread and was previously ready to burst from injustice in his direction.

Freddie never understood why he was so unlucky in love. After all, with Esther, his former girlfriend. He pursed his lips. A disgusting girl. And why had he treated her so tenderly and soothingly? He didn't understand.

Although Paige knew that she was just a lecherous girl, that she was ready to go to bed with anyone, just with money beckoning. Like a dog. And it was disgusting. Very disgusting.

She didn't even help him. Never. I never tried to comfort him, or even listen to him. But here you are, you were just a goddess in his opinion. The goddess who helped him get rid of his diseases and pens. You were the first to help him and listen to him, trying to understand the essence of his nightmares. It wasn't for nothing that you spent so much time with him in this house before you were married.

***

"Are you sure you're okay?" the woman asked, raising her right eyebrow and slightly arching it in a small bump, looking from her patient's card to Freddie himself.

Page pursed his lips, closed his eyes, and clenched his sweat-soaked hand into a tight fist. He hated to talk about it. It was so disgusting. Yell about your problems to some other person who really doesn't even care about you.

Freddie has felt this many times. He knew that his psychologist didn't care about his problems, and she just wanted to throw the former shell-shocked soldier out of her expensive and rich house as soon as possible.

"I'm sure, Mrs. Rogers."

***

But now. He felt great right now. He had his favorite girl, who was also happy for him and loved him as much as he loved her.

Oh, how he adored her. He adored her cleanliness, social behavior, and moral support. Freddie knew she was perfect. An ideal, a beautiful lady, comparable only to a Goddess.

And now it was bitter to look at his beloved. The way she sits on the edge of the bed in a fit of anger, anger and sadness, thinking about something bad.

What could it be? Quick thoughts flashed through Freddie's mind, and he ran at a brisk pace across the room he shared with his wife.

It wasn't very big. And the interior was as simple as an instruction manual for assembling a cabinet. An ordinary bed, which was of medium hardness, on which were white sheets, which were currently covered with a dark blue canopy. A small nightstand next to the bed, a dark wood wardrobe that contained all of his clothes, and a small shelf with books and a TV. It was hard to get, but Freddie was still able to buy it back from his friend for a decidedly inexpensive price.

"My lady..." Freddie murmured softly, kneeling in front of his beloved. He couldn't resist looking at her beautiful face again. Elegant, inviting eyes, his beloved lips that responded with great excitement to his voluptuous kisses, soft hair.

"Lady, I know everything," Freddie suddenly spoke loudly, making his beloved understand her gaze. She looked at him with disbelieving, sheep-like eyes that were wide open.

"W-what do you mean?" haltingly, after a little crying, she asked Page his favorite, to which he only frowned. Why is his beloved lying to him? "I don't understand."

"I know you'll think about running away," Freddie said calmly, resting his head on your thin knees. He talked about it as if he were talking to his friends about the weather. It was frightening. "I know, I know everything. I know. Don't take me for a fool," the man smiled to himself as he stroked your thighs. "But know this, my lady. I give you a promise: if you try this, I swear I will stop at nothing to find you," Freddie said with a strange, obsessive tenderness in his voice.

#tom hiddleston #obsessive #yandere #yandere loki #obsessive tom hiddleston #obsession #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #loki x you #yandere freddie page #the deep blue sea #freddie page x reader #Freddie page x you #dark loki #loki x reader #loki #yandere tom hiddleston

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sooave · 4 years

Text

The Problem With Wanting: 1

It’s 2026, and an old celebrity crush comes to haunt your old and cynical heart. You’re doing great at pretending you were never obsessed with him, and finding things about him that you don’t like. Until you’re repeatedly forced to work with him. Until he decides that he’s in love with you.

Genre: I really don’t know what to call this, but it’s not an AU, Kyungsoo’s older and still a celebrity, and it’s friends-to-lovers.

Characters: Kyungsoo x Reader

Length: 2,314 words

Tags: Angst, Slow Burn

Part 1 | Part 2

The problem with wanting, was that the human brain’s pathways are more easily activated for desire, rather than liking. In other words, humans naturally want things more than they actually like them. Obviously, you didn’t fault anyone for that. You knew that humans are all victims of the mechanisms of their biological systems.

Just like how you never blamed your own body for being frustratingly uncooperative when it was exactly a week before your period.

Just like how you didn’t fault Do Kyungsoo at all for confessing to you, and asking you to be his girlfriend. You knew that he just wanted you. Now if he actually had you, he’d certainly be disappointed. No, his brain would be disappointed.

Being single at age 30 was surprisingly easy for you, considering the fact that it practically made you a spinster in Asian society. Your parents’ one saving grace was that they immigrating to North America, and brought you in tow. When you returned to Korea as a full-fledged adult with a string of ex-boyfriends and old jobs behind you, it was increasingly apparent to you that Korean society was at times lovely, but hugely flawed.

Back home, the Korean aunties that your mother would bring home no longer gave a shit about the fact that you were, God forbid, an artist. And an unmarried and childless one to boot. Their own children had put them through a fair share of self-perceived grievances already, and while most of them were still conservative at heart, they knew that they lived in a society where their values weren’t necessarily correct. You knew that they didn’t all understand that their values were straight up incorrect. But at least you didn’t get harassed about your life choices.

Coming back to build a career in your birth country had you encountering situations that made you laugh and feel uncomfortable at the same time.

“You’re self-employed? How are you ever going to find yourself a husband?” You’d tell them that being your own boss in fact made your schedule much more flexible. And that you fill up the time with pursuits that actually improved your life, like cooking and yoga. Not shitty dates with people you couldn’t connect with.

Of course, the nosy aunties would continue heavily implying that your life’s purpose was to find a good husband, carry your bloodline, and take care of the home.

“Thirty?? You should have had two kids by now?” You would politely inform them that you weren’t interested in having children, and if you did, you’d adopt an orphan in need instead.

“There won’t be any good men left at this point! You’re in trouble now.” This one, you couldn’t really argue with. You were a firm believer that if someone was single for an extended period of time, there was a reason.

Most of the time, they were a shitty person. Other reasons? Nursing a heartbreak. Pining after someone unattainable. Obsessed with their career. Etcetera.

And you?

You didn’t have your priorities straight. But after a countless number of bad dates, bad relationship, mediocre relationships, and some okay ones, you kind of had an idea of what you didn’t want in a boyfriend. You were doing just peachy by yourself, for now at least.

Sure, maybe you’d want to find a life partner eventually. That would come naturally. You were also a firm believer in the fact that the best matches are found organically.

But surprisingly to you, one of the blind dates that you’d begrudgingly gone on 3 years ago was actually bearing some fruitful benefits. Your date was an assistant PD at one of the largest entertainment companies in Seoul. He was a decent guy, but was insistent about being the sole provider for his future wife. That obviously didn’t check out with you.

Luckily, he didn’t hold a grudge against you for cutting your third dinner date short once you learned of that particular value, and even suggested you as an artist for several show segments. Today, your expertise was blackboard art. Other days, it was digital painting, or watercolours. But they all focused on food illustrations.

Seung-woo, your ex-date, had a particularly annoying habit of talking your ear off while you were working. For some reason, he assumed that the several hours you spent slaving away with your arm raised over the chalk board was the perfect time to catch up with you and ramble on about his love life.

“And then, she started ordering the spicy chicken even though I had explicitly mentioned that I had an upset stomach! Really. The nerve of her.”

“Oh…” you hummed disinterestedly as you filled in the grey base colour of the fish that you were drawing for the background of this board. Apparently, some professional chef along with a celebrity guest were going to be in the kitchen today filming an episode on ways to cooking methods for fish in Korean cuisine. This particular series was something you’d seen before while you were living in the U.S., and while you felt that Korea was a bit slow on the uptake, at least they were doing something interesting with it. You didn’t get to see a lot of Korean traditional cooking methods on American-owned YouTube channels.

“So… we’re going on a second date tonight. What should I say?”

If you were in America, you would have already told Seung-Woo off for disrupting your work and being a total wuss. But this was Korea, and you couldn’t really afford to offend the very person who got you this job contract. Plus, gossip travelled like wildfire, and soon you’d be labelled as difficult to work with and saying bye-bye to your steady income.

You had to take a deep breath and set down your chalk, in fear of snapping it in annoyance.

“Did that tell you something?”

Seung-woo set down the kitchen prop that he was playing around with onto the counter.

“Tell me what?” He echoed.

“Did her action of ordering the spicy chicken tell you that she had an undesirable trait that you cannot accept from a partner?” Your tone was bordering on one that a disapproving teacher would take when reprimanding a student, but luckily Seung-woo didn’t catch that.

He wasn’t as taken aback by your mannerisms as he used to be, but ever since you explained that you spent all of your formative years abroad, he was able to rationalize all of your non-conservative behaviours.

Instead, he actually thought of your advice and comments as thoughtful and interesting. You always refrained from mentioning that your perspective came from years of counselling and therapy, in fear that he’d label you as psychotic. Seung-woo had no idea what mental health was.

After a round of hums and haws, he finally responds.

“You’re right, it did. Are you trying to say I shouldn’t go on the date tonight?”

“Hey, I just asked a question. You came to that conclusion your self!” You turn around and throw a dirty rag that you’ve been using into his chest.

That finally got him to leave you alone, after whining about your aggressiveness and how unladylike you were. Luckily, you still had plenty of time to finish the piece, and once the annoyance hindering your progress was gone, the flow started to come naturally to you.

Time began to fly by as it usually did when you were absorbed with your artwork. Before you knew it, it was already time for the segment filming to start. It wasn’t everyday that you timed your work perfectly, but today you hit the deadline exactly.

You knew that the filming was about to begin because of the camera lights had began to turn on, and a buzz of conversation had started to grow in the centre of the room. Sometimes it irked you that you were working right in front of a dozen cameras and microphones, but it was comforting to know that they had absolutely zero interest in filming you.

Seung-woo had unfortunately appeared again, appearing behind you like a golden retriever wagging it’s tail. You were packing up boxes chalk into your carrying case, attempting to ignore him as much as possible, but something he said caught your attention.

“Wait. What? Who?” You had absolutely no idea what he had said, except for the fact that a horribly familiar name fell from his lips.

“Do Kyungsoo. You don’t know of him?”

“No, I do…” Too well, in fact.

“Well, he’s here right now. I could get you an autograph if you wanted too. Just ask your oppa nicely!” He shot you a shit-eating grin and you almost want to strangle him amidst the absolute panic you were experiencing.

You weren’t experiencing a real panic attack, thankfully. But the way your hands were shaking as you placed each piece of chalk back into it’s designated slotted groove gave away that you were one-hundred-percent losing your mind. As your heart raced in your chest, you did a mental checklist of the facts that faced you right now.

You were, or you used to be, absolutely obsessed with Do Kyungsoo as a celebrity. This was back in your late teens, when you were a freshman at college.

You had not thought about him, or even looked up his name, in almost 5 years. Real life got in the way. And your cynicism.

And he was right here.

In this very room.

Suddenly, your brain was kicked into hyper-awareness mode, and it was almost impossible to resist the urge to finger comb your hair and smooth out your clothes. Fuck. You weren’t even wearing a cute outfit. Today had been a boyfriend jeans and black t-shirt day for you.

Seung-woo was still standing in front of you, looking at you expectantly, and you reminded yourself that you had to actually respond.

“Er… no. I’m good, Seung-woo,” you rolled your eyes at him, “What makes you think that I’d want an autograph? You do remember that I’m an old hag right?”

He noticed that you were having difficulty stuffing your chalk boxes back into your bag, and leans down to help you.

“Who said that you can’t have celebrity crushes at age 30? I wouldn’t shame you for that. Plus, you’re still single…” Seung-woo waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh my lord,” You mutter in English to yourself, before switching to Korean.

“Idols are for the young or the delusional. Plus, they’re just regular ol’ people just like me. You take anyone with a bit of talent and a decent face and I’m sure they could pass as an idol.” This is a mantra you’ve repeated to yourself almost a million times, and it rolls off your tongue.

“God, you’re always so cynical…ah!” Seung-woo stands up to greet someone and leaves you struggling with your bag on the floor.

“No, I’m just old,” you said to yourself as you right yourself.

And then you come face to face with a profile that you’ve started at on your phone screen, your computer monitor, and even billboards, umpteenth times. It’s closer now, way closer. You saw the slight smile lines on his cheeks, and the unevenness of his skin that hasn’t been photoshopped out. But his strong eyebrows and heart-shaped smile were the same. And his eyes.

Kyungsoo was shaking hands with Seung-woo and another PD, but his eyes flickered to you briefly as you got to your feet. And then they’re gone. Like they didn’t see you at all.

You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that he’s just another person. He probably leaves his phone ringer on. That’s something that annoys you. Annoyance. It’s your weapon against anything you’re scared of. But it’s also grounding you in this insane moment.

Reminder, you’re staff. He’s the star of the show.

“Ah! This is our chalk artist, she made the board behind us,” Seung-woo declared proudly and grabbed your arm to pull you back, just as you were preparing to sneak away from the awkward circle of personnel. You’ve never cursed so strongly in your own mind before, and a string of fuckshitfuckshitfuck was still going through your mind as you gave a tight smile and bowed. All while avoiding eye contact.

You saw Kyungsoo and a few others glance at your work and you couldn’t help but cringe. God help you, you had confidence in your work, but were you completely unprepared for your teenage/young adult celebrity crush to judge you. They politely express amazement at the board, and you robotically thank them.

Seung-woo continued to discuss some detail about the segment and you took the opportunity to duck away and escape with your bag, not even taking a second look back. You were tempted of course, as you left through the studio doors. You could even stay to watch the entire filming, and no one would object. They knew who you were.

But there was no way you would be able to not fall back into your stupid crush that you still had, if you were able to just stand and watch him cook for an hour and a half. You were too old for this.

You gritted your teeth as you got in your car, placed your duffel on the passenger seat, and buckled your seatbelt.

Today, you would be an adult and do the right thing.

Tomorrow, you’d give dating apps another go.

But right now, you imagined another universe, where he was a regular person, and so were you. Then, you could allow yourself to fall in love. You closed your eyes and leaned your head onto the cold glass of the window and allowed yourself to fantasize.

A/N: I’m totally throwing this into the void and doing this for myself but part two is coming.

#exo #exo fic #kyungsoo fic #kyungsoo #exo fanfiction #kyungsoo x reader #kyungsoo angst #kyungsoo fanfiction #do kyungsoo #exo scenario #exo scenarios

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

⚘ Karasuno Alumni (Daichi Sawamura)

Genre: Slice of Life, AU, Fluff, Friendship

Word Count: 3,132

Pairing: Reader x Daichi

World: Haikyuu

Prompt(s): A bought the last piece of [item] that B was about to get. / “I have nothing to lose.” / Tattoo Artist AU

Author’s Note: This was written for the weekly-prompt (08/19/20) over on @hqbookclub ‘s discord server – you should check it out if you haven’t It should be noted that I do not have tattoos and I know nothing about tattooing. I asked a couple different people and watched a couple videos, but it’s hard to understand if you haven’t experienced it yourself so I kinda just wrote what I imagine would take place and how it would feel. So yeah.

━━━━━━༻⚘༺━━━━━━

You didn’t get cravings very often, but when you did, they drove you absolutely batty until you got the object that you suddenly desired so badly. This was especially annoying at midnight when all you wanted to do was sleep but your brain wouldn’t stop craving for some strawberry flake pocky which, not so conveniently, was sold only at the quick mart about twenty minutes away from your house.

With a groan, you forced yourself out of bed, throwing on whatever clothes you could find quickly as you grumbled under your breath about how much you hated your brain and its ability to act like a damn toddler. And nearly thirty minutes later, you found yourself approaching the quick mart, still grumbling under your breath, though, at this point, it was more noises than words.

The glass doors slid open, a burst of cold air hitting the top of your head and causing a shiver to go down your spine. The cashier, a young girl that should probably be in bed and not working at one in the morning, smiled brightly upon your entrance.

“Welcome!”

You nodded at her before heading toward the back of the store where your precious pocky was located. The pocky was lined up at the end of the aisle, appearing in your line of sight as soon as you turned the corner, but the lack of flavors was startling. Normally, the shelf would be packed with the treats, but they had clearly become much more popular than normal. The shelves were nearly empty, offering only a few boxes in varying flavors. Your eyes scanned what was left, praying to whatever deity you could think of that they had the flavor you so desired.

Just as your eyes landed on the strawberry flake pocky, a large hand shot out, fingers curling around the very last box before pulling it from the shelf. Time seemed to move in slow motion as your eyes trained on the box like a hawk, watching as it was placed into the plastic basket being held by the perpetrator.

The man in question was pretty tall, standing probably around five-foot-nine, and his body was well defined with muscles. You could just barely make out the tattoo of a crow in mid-flight peeking out from the collar of his sweater. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he was attractive with his messy raven hair and dark brown eyes, but the only thing you could focus on was the fact that he had just taken the last feckin’ box of strawberry flake pocky.

He finally noticed your intense stare, turning his dark eyes to meet yours. “It’s not polite to stare, you know,” he teased, the corner of his lips twitching up.

You scowled at him. “It’s also not polite to steal someone’s pocky!”

His brow quirked at that, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I didn’t steal anything. It was on the shelf, free for anyone to take. Maybe you should have been faster.”

In your tired, annoyed state, you didn’t recognize the teasing tone he was using and took it as a challenge. When he tried to step past you, your hand shot up, palm flat against his chest to push him backward. You resolve faltered for just a moment when you felt his toned chest tensing beneath your hand, but you quickly shook the thoughts from your head. “Give me back my pocky, you jerk!”

His eyes darkened, smile turning to a scowl as he grabbed your wrist to remove your hand from his chest. You could feel how strong he was from the amount of restraint he was showing. If he wanted to, he could easily hurt you, but his grip was soft, just enough to hold you back. “Maybe if you asked nicely I would have considered it, but since you’re being so rude, I’m gonna say no. Have a good night.” He released his grip on your wrist and headed for the front of the store.

Your eyes widened a bit at his words and you realized that you were being a complete jerk. Sure, you could use the lack of sleep and your shitty day as an excuse, but it was just that – an excuse. Shaking your head, you bolted toward the front of the store, intent on apologizing to the man, but he was already gone. You could only stand there feeling like a shitty person for being so rude to a man you had never even met before.

━━━━━━༻⚘༺━━━━━━

“Y/N!” Tsuko, your childhood best friend, burst into your dorm room without knocking and, since you were in the middle of erasing a failed equation, you ended up jumping and tearing the page.

You groaned, slamming your face onto the desk. Math was bad enough, but now you had to recopy everything because of the torn page and that did not sound like a good time for you. “How many times do I have to tell you to knock, woman?”

“Sorry~” She giggled, not sounding the least bit sorry. “I have the best news!”

You hummed as you tore the page from the notebook, beginning to re-copy the notes on a fresh, clean one. You were not really interested in whatever gossip she had to offer this time because this was a regular occurrence with her and it was mostly about other student’s relationships.

“Okay, so,” she plopped down on the side of your bed. “I met a guy in class today that knows Anne, you know, the exchange student from the states, who is good friends with Ako, that really cute football scholar in his third year, who heard from Carl, the half-Japanese kid that’s weirdly obsessed with tomatoes, who is best friends with Nia, that girl that was featured in Art Monthly in January, who happens to know -”

You slammed your head back on the desk, the notes completely forgotten as her word vomit swirled in your ears. First off, you didn’t know any of those people and you really didn’t care about them or what incredible thing they had passed along to a million different people. It was like one of those chain games you played as a kid – one person says something before passing it on to another and, by the time it got to the end of the line, it was something completely different from what it once was. “Tsuko, please spare me any further pain and just get to the point.”

She rolled her brown eyes, “You’re so dramatic, Y/N. Anywho, let’s get tattoos!”

“Heh?”

“Nia knows a guy that does tattoos at a discounted price for Karasuno alumni!” She clapped her hands excitedly. “I set us up with an appointment tomorrow afternoon!”

“You -” your eye twitched in annoyance as you looked at her, but your gaze softened when you saw how excited she was. She had always been super into tattoos and had dreamed of getting one since she was thirteen-years-old and her mom married a guy that was covered in them. You were happy she was finally getting one, but why did you have to get one, as well? Sure, you thought tattoos were absolutely gorgeous and you could definitely appreciate an attractive man with them, but you had never actually considered getting one yourself. “I don’t know… What would I even get? Aren’t tattoos supposed to have meaning behind them? It’s not really something you just decide on the fly, you know?”

“That’s true,” she agreed, tapping her chin. “But you really loved your time at Karasuno, right? You said it was the best time of your life! So why not commemorate that with a tattoo?”

You frowned. “Getting the name of a high school tattooed on my body sounds super tacky.”

“Not the name!” She clicked her tongue in annoyance before pulling out her phone. After a few taps, she stood up to thrust the device in your face, showing off various drawings and designs of crows. “You can get the school’s mascot – a crow!”

You hummed as you took her phone, scrolling through the various images she had found on google with a simple search. Some of them did look pretty cool and you had loved your time at Karasuno. Sometimes you even found yourself wishing that you were back in high school when things were so much simpler and easier. The more you thought about the idea, the more you liked it.

“So~, what do you say?” Tsuko clapped her hands together, giving you the best puppy dog eyes she could manage.

“Well,” you answered after a moment’s pause. “I guess I have nothing to lose. Sure, let’s do it.”

“Yes!” She threw her arms around your neck, squeezing you against her chest. “You’re the bestest friend in the world, Y/N!”

You slapped her arms frantically, “Then let me breathe!”

“Oh, oops.” With a giggle, she released you, allowing you to take in a large gulp of air.

━━━━━━༻⚘༺━━━━━━

Tsuko parked the car in front of the small tattoo shop nestled between a used bookstore and a fast-food chicken place. This did little to boost your confidence and you grabbed her arm before she could leave the car.

“Are you sure this place is legit? Did you research it? Look up reviews? What’s the -”

“Y/N!” She rolled her eyes. “This place comes highly recommended. Don’t tell me you’re going to chicken out at the last moment.”

“I’m not, I just…”

“Come on, we’re gonna be late for our appointment!”

With a sigh, you climbed out of her car and followed her to the door, glancing up at the bell above the door when it chimed loudly. On either side of the door were metal chairs lined against the class walls. Directly across from the door was an L-shaped desk with a computer on the right and various drawings scattered across its surface. A wall hid the tattooing area, offering a small opening on the left to pass through.

Tsuko stepped up to the counter while you hung back a bit, staying near the door. A moment passed before a tall man with a shaved head appeared in the doorway, covered in head to toe in various tattoo styles, piercings in both ears and on the left side of his bottom lip. He honestly looked terrifying.

His small eyes fell on Tsuko and his face brightened, a streak of red crawling across his face as he practically skipped over to the counter. “Hey, babe! You lookin’ to get a tattoo?”

“We are!” Tsuko chirped, clearly interested in this man even though she had only just met him. “We have an appointment, actually.”

“I gotchu,” he winked, stepping behind the counter to check the computer. “Ah, you two the Karasuno alumni?”

“Yep!”

“Perfect! Come on back and we’ll get to work!”

Tsuko didn’t hesitate to follow him and you sighed, trailing behind as you chewed on your bottom lip. Honestly, you were feeling kind of scared, but you didn’t want your best friend to think bad of you for chickening out, as she called it. How bad could it be, really? You weren’t afraid of needles and your pain tolerance was pretty high, so you were confident that you could make it through. Plus, you’d have a pretty bomb tattoo to show for it.

‘Hopefully,’ you thought as your eyes scanned the framed drawings lining the backroom. ‘These drawings look amazing, but there’s no way to prove that they did these.’

The man led the two of you to one of the plush chairs, motioning with his arms as his eyes stayed trained on your friend. “Have a seat, princess, and I’ll be right with you!”

She giggled in response, falling into the chair with a flushed face.

“As for you,” his eyes fell on you and you swallowed at how darker they got. “Follow me!”

You glanced at your friend, but her eyes were trained on the man’s back, offering you no support as you followed him a few chairs down on the opposite side of the room.

“Have a seat,” he grinned at you before turning toward the back of the room where a lone door sat, cupping his mouth. “Yo, Daichi! You got a customer!”

“Coming!”

You pulled out the folded piece of paper in your pocket that had several printed illustrations of crows in various poses. You had printed it out last night to try and help out the tattooer rather just saying, ‘I want a crow.’

“Hello, my name is Daichi and I’ll be -”

Your eyes met dark ones that widened in time with your own. Standing before you in a tight, black muscle shirt was the man that had taken your pocky the other night. Without any sleeves, you could see the dragon tattoo curling around his left arm, a light pink lotus flower clutched between its claws. On his right bicep was a crow sitting atop a volleyball and, of course, the crow in mid-flight could be seen more clearly on his neck.

Daichi cleared his throat, putting on an obviously forced smile. “I’ll be your tattooist today. What are you looking to get?”

“O-Oh, umm…” You handed him the paper with a shaking hand, unable to look him in the eye. Your face was burning with embarrassment and you were torn on whether or not you should mention what happened that night. You really wanted to apologize, but you weren’t entirely sure how, especially when one wrong word could land you in a world of hurt.

He took the paper, careful not to touch your hand with his as he glanced over the printed designs. “You want a crow?”

“Y-Yeah,” you cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “I really enjoyed my time at Karasuno, so…”

He smiled down at the paper, settling himself on the rolling stool as he grabbed a sketchbook from beneath the counter. “Is there a specific design you want?”

“Not really. Umm… whatever you think would look nice.” You rubbed the back of your neck, glancing at your friend, but neither her nor the other man were paying either of you any mind.

“How about this?” He held up the sketchbook, showing off a small crow in mid-hop, its eyes trained on a butterfly flying above its head. Small feathers were spread out around it. It was such a simple design, but you fell in love the moment you saw it.

“Yes, that looks amazing!”

“Cool. I’ll be right back.” He stood up, tearing the drawing from the book before returning to the room at the back. When he returned, he was carrying a thin piece of paper that he held gently between his fingers. “Where do you want to get it?”

You glanced at the paper, taking note of its small size. “My upper arm?” You lifted the sleeve of the t-shirt on your left arm, looking up at him for approval.

“Can you take your shirt off, please?”

“W-What?” Your cheeks burned at the sudden request.

“The sleeve might get in the way of the tattoo and ruin it. It’s better if it’s not in the way.” Daichi explained, setting the paper on the table beside the chair before setting up the tools.

Swallowing your nerves, you glanced at him before pulling the shirt over your head, holding it across your chest. He didn’t even spare you a glance as he rolled over to your side, slipping his hands into black gloves before cleaning the area where the tattoo would be placed. The stencil was cold as he carefully smoothed it out across your skin, pressing hard to ensure that the ink transferred. When he was satisfied, he slowly peeled it away, the ink stuck to your skin.

Daichi’s dark eyes met yours as he picked up the ink gun. “Are you ready?” You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Remember to breathe and try not to tense up, it’ll make it hurt worse. If it gets too much or you start to feel lightheaded, let me know and we’ll take a break. I’m going to start now.”

“Okay.” Your eyes followed his movements as he clicked on the gun, lowering the needle to your skin. You sucked in a breath at the strange stinging feeling upon your skin, as if you were getting a shot multiple times. You found yourself focusing on the pain and it was making you feel light-headed – you had to distract yourself. “Hey, I uhh… I’m sorry.”

“Hm?” He didn’t glance away from his work, carefully tracing the lines with the needle. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just… the other night in the quick mart…” You chewed on your bottom lip as you searched your brain for the proper words, meeting his dark eyes when he paused his ministrations to glance at you. “I want to apologize. I was such a jerk to you even though I didn’t know you and… I’m sorry.”

Daichi hummed, the corners of his lips twitching up as he returned to the tattoo, his tone teasing. “Are you just apologizing so I won’t mess up your tattoo?”

“What? N-No, that’s not -” You paused when he started laughing, bringing the gun away from your skin so he wouldn’t mess up the tattoo. “You’re teasing me.”

“Yup,” his dark eyes sparkled with amusement. “Don’t worry, I’m not so petty that I’d mark up someone’s skin over something like that. To be honest, I had forgotten all about it until I saw you.”

Seeing him so close to you made your heart pick up speed because he was a really gorgeous man and you adored his laugh. You wanted to get to know him more, so you threw caution to the wind, looking up at him through your lashes. “Can I… make it up to you? Maybe I can buy you some lunch or something.”

“That sounds nice,” he smiled warmly, his eyes lighting up.

“Way to go, Daichi!” The other man waggled his eyebrows as he looked at the two of you, a smirk upon his lips. “And you always yell at me for trying to date the clients!”

Daichi scowled over his shoulder, a light shade of pink coming to his cheeks. “Shut it, Tanaka! Focus on your client.”

“Oh trust me, I am~” Tanaka wiggled his brows again, this time at Tsuko who giggled in response.

“We should go on a double date!” She suggested happily, to which Tanaka nodded enthusiastically.

Daichi sighed, giving you a sheepish look. “You up for a double date?”

You glanced at your best friend and her new love interest before giving him a smile. “Something tells me we don’t have a choice.”

“Definitely not,” he laughed.

━━━━━━༻⚘༺━━━━━━

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

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wifeofkimtaehyungofbts · 4 years

Text

Chapter 6

>> Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N, Taehyung x reader

>> Words: 1785

>> Notes: I’m going to upload a new chapter whenever possible until I feel like I have built up enough thrill to leave my readers curious and desperately wanting more 😉 You may leave asks and let me know what you think of my writing (:

Synopsis: You run into a rather strange man one night. He seems terrified, as if fighting battles only he can see. He seems detached from the world, talking only to a voice inside his head. Oh, another strange fact: he keeps talking about angels. You discover later that you were the angel he was praying to.

>> Previous / Next

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Sunlight seeped in through the thin sheets hanging over the windows. I stirred, contemplating whether money was really worth my sleep, and just as I was about to sleep after deciding that sleep was obviously more worth it, my best friend jumped on me.

“Good morning baby!” she shouted cheerfully. I was in no mood to return the energy. I rolled onto my side and continued to sleep.

“Wake up!!!” she screamed in my ear.

“Ugh!” I threw her off me and she fell to the floor with a thud. “Why why why why just why!” I whined, looking at her grinning at me from the floor despite the redness in her knee from the fall that I know must have hurt.

“It’s my last day!” she exclaimed happily.

I just then remembered why today meant so much for her. She was going home on her longest vacation from the university. Unlike my family, her family was very warm and welcoming, so she always looked forward to going back.

“Oh yea... I’m taking you to the station before you leave me by myself for over a month” I pouted before I broke out into a huge smile and hugged her from where I was. I got off the bed, grabbed my towel off the chair and headed to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and having a shower, I put on a pair of denims with my black tank top and wore my hair in a pony tail.

“I’ll help you with that” I say reaching for her hang luggage. My arm nearly pulled out of its socket because of the weight. “Yah! What did you pack in this?” I ask in horror. Kim Leah grins at me sheepishly. “You do know you are coming back in a month, right? Why would you pack so much?” I ask exasperated.

“Because! I don’t want to take photos in the same clothes so I packed 2 changes of clothes for everyday” she says matter-of-factly. Kim Leah indeed has an obsession with taking pictures everywhere she goes. She states her Instagram profile is her biggest pride. It drives her insane if she had two pictures of her in the same outfit.

I sigh at her and we make our way out. We get into a parked taxi and ask the driver to take us to the station. As we round the corner, I see the space between the two buildings where I ran into that man 3 nights ago. I unconsciously search for him, but he isn’t there.

“Is something wrong?” Kim Leah asks. “You look worried”

I shake my head and smile at her endearingly. How can I tell her I’ve been worried about some stranger I don’t even know the name of? It was those eyes. His big eyes were pleading, desperate for help. I feel an ache in my heart as I remember the way they looked at the burger bag and at me. I have the sudden need to know whether he ate well for the past few days but there was no way I could know. I continue to stare out the window as I my thoughts drift off to his eyes every now and then.

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“Okay then, this is it” Kim Leah says holding onto her luggage.

“Yah! Don’t say it like it’s the last time we are going to see each other!” I shout at her.

She laughs and hugs me tight. I hug her back just as tightly. I watch her get onto the train and wait till it starts to move and vanished out of my sight. I smile sadly knowing I was going to be alone. I didn’t mind being alone, but I worry too much so it’s nice to have someone who would distract me from my worries or listen to them. Especially if that someone was as lovely as Kim Leah.

As I walk out the station, I see a big crowd of people gathered in one place, making a big commotion. I intend to walk away quietly like I normally do, but something tells me I should check it out. Maybe someone is hurt?

I walk over to the crowd of big people and try to peek through to get a glimpse. My short height does not help me so I get down on all fours and look from under everyone’s legs. My eyes widen and a loud gasp escapes my mouth as I stare at him.

It’s him!

His body lay limp on the ground, his hood pulled down revealing unevenly outgrown dark brown hair falling over his face. I push past everybody and get to the body. A man nearly shoves me away with his big arm. “Hey, move! Don’t crowd him! We don’t know who he is!”

“I do!” I blurt.

There was a hushed whisper from the crowd and the big man stared at me questioningly. I ignore their doubts and try to throw the lifeless man’s body over mine. He was heavy. “Help me get him to a taxi please” I plead. Instantly, the big man and two other men standing in the crowd come over and lift him up. A woman stops a taxi for us and the men put him inside. The driver looks at me worriedly and I smile. “We have to get home. This is my address” I show him the location on my phone screen which he quickly types into his GPS. I turn around to the men who helped me, bowing to them in gratitude.

“He was walking around aimlessly for the past 3 hours. I was suspicious of him so I kept tabs on his behaviour. He suddenly fainted and when I rushed over, his body had already gone cold” the big man tells me.

“Thank you for the information. I will keep it in mind when I’m treating him” I smile gently. I get into the taxi and we drive away. Not going to lie, but he stinks. He smells foul and sweaty, like he hasn’t washed in weeks and there was dirt all over his face. The wounds I noticed that night by the McDonald’s were still there, almost infected and looking very itchy.

When we arrived at my apartment, I pay the driver and get out. As I struggle to move the man out of the taxi, the driver offers to help. “Ma’am let me help you with your friend over there”

He’s no friend. My actual friend will kill me if she knew I brought a random man home the moment she left, I thought to myself.

The driver and I attempt to not breathe as the man’s stench envelope us both. I thank the driver and open the door to my room as swiftly as I can and drop him to the floor. He hits the floor with a thud. I lock the door and bend over him. I keep two fingers to his neck. Okay he’s breathing.

That’s one worry out of the way.

I stare at his face, now being able to get a proper glimpse of it. He looks young, maybe only a few years older than I. His lips were cracked and blue. I reach over to touch his face. I immediately retract my hand as I feel his cold skin. This is not good.

I take off his black jacket and throw it in the empty laundry basket. And yes, it is empty because I now do my laundry regularly. So proud of myself for the progress.

I move to his feet and take off his shoes and socks. His socks were so old and torn at so many places, I doubt it could even keep a rat warm. It reeked terribly so I immediately threw it into a bucket of water in the bathroom. It is with the greatest difficulty I take off his thick sweater. How the hell did he survive wearing this in this heat? I thought to myself shockingly.

As I unbutton his green shirt, he suddenly grabs my hands. I bolt backwards, but I cannot remove my hands from his hold. He slowly opens his eyes and looks at me.

“I-... I...” I stammer. He continues to stare at me through hooded eyes.

“I found you fallen on the ground” I begin, “Actually no. Some people found you and I recognized you so I brought you to my place” I correct myself. He still stares at me without blinking. “You smelt really bad so I figured...”

That’s when it hits me. What was I trying to do?! Take off his clothes?? Wash him??

I regain my composure and continue, “I figured you might need a shower so I was going to set the water and take off most of your clothes”

He still continues to stare at me, his grip strong. I squirm under his lifeless stare. His hands loosen their grip on mine so I quickly pull away and waste no time in hooking my arm under his head and gently lift him up. Thankfully he doesn’t put up a fight.

“You can go shower. The water heater is on and you can use the shampoo and soap already on the counter” I say. He doesn’t look at me as he staggers to his feet. He takes in the room as I go to fetch him a towel and toothbrush. His eyes settle on the box of colour pens and pencils on my study table.

“Kim Leah, my best friend, is very talented at art. She lives here with me so her belongings are here too” I say, noticing the objects that seemed to catch his attention.

“Do you draw?” the man asks, without taking his eyes off the box of colour. It’s the first time I’m hearing his voice, but that’s not the reason I am shocked. His voice was deep, the words booming from somewhere inside his throat. It did not match his innocent face. His voice was, to simply put it, very attractive.

I quickly shake my head, embarrassed with myself for thinking such incredulous thoughts. I stretch my arm out at him, holding the towel to him. He takes it slowly and heads to the bathroom. I stop him in his tracks. “How did you know the bathroom was there?” I ask suspiciously. He shrugs and continues to stare at me. I tilt my head to the side, pouting in suspicion. I then step aside and let him pass by.

What a strange man. Does he have a sixth sense? I wonder.

I make my way to the kitchen to prepare something for him to eat when I hear the shower turn on.

#bangtan sonyeondan #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #taehyung fan fiction #y/n #y/n x taehyung #BTS v #bts v x reader #bts fan fiction #Angels

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hopiewrites · 5 years

Text

Nobody - OHSHC

NOTE: big, big thank you to the person helping me write this fic, LT! i don’t think they have a tumblr so here is a link to their quotev!

pairing - host club x reader

ongoing series, chapter 3

word count - 4,180

chapters 1 & 2 up now!

-> back to masterlist

Forget-me-not Blue

Weeks had passed, and the daffodils began to bloom, welcoming spring into season that April.

(Y/N) was excited, even if things were barely starting to come to life. The early spring flowers had arrived, and that meant the butterflies and bees would start dancing around again, and the cherry blossoms would bloom, and everything would be alight with new life and begin the new year with vibrancy. She couldn't wait until she was able to walk through Ouran's gardens that would be full of roses and lavender and dandelions.

It seemed that the entire school shared her excitement, as the whole campus was vibrating with excitement and joy. The colors seemed brighter and the sky seemed clearer and the spring air was crisp and clean, brushing it's hands through the trees that were budding with new leaves and fruits.

All was well that day. (Y/N) got to spend time with her mother that morning before she had to run off to work, managed to remember all of her school supplies, and even got to finish her makeup on time; she was wearing one of her favorite outfits, a cherry wood brown turtleneck and a pleated plaid skirt, paired with the dirty vans she always wore.

She stayed late yesterday to make the food beforehand instead of going in early that morning, so she managed to get two extra hours of sleep, and felt relatively rested.

She decided that the day was good.

Everybody in homeroom was chatting amongst themselves, as usual, while cute drawings of different characters and flowers adorned the whiteboard with little phrases and words next to them. Her head was low as she entered, quietly making a beeline towards her usual desk and pulling out her notebook.

Something scrunched under her papers.

The girl moved her notebook, curious brows raised, and there, on her desk, sat a yellow sticky note, with a sun wearing sunglasses and a little daisy sitting around the neat, swirly handwriting that read;

Come to the club room after classes, We have planning to do~

Just when she thought she'd gotten away from them, they pulled her right back into their grubby hands.

She sighed, trying to hide the slight grin that made it's way to her face. She propped her head up on one hand, staring blankly at the whiteboard at the front of the room.

I wonder what's going on this time.

It wasn't long before everyone got settled and into their seats. Now, all she had to do, was wait.

- nobody -

Everyone is so lively today.

Even more so than usual, the host club's atmosphere was effervescent, seeming to bubble over with what she assumed was excitement – even the guests were basically dancing in their seats.

"So, Kyoya! When will the annual Spring Dance be held this year?"

"Yeah! Everybody has been talking about it already, we're all so excited!"

"Well, ladies, we plan to have it soon, in early May. We're actually having preparations being made at this moment."

"Oh, wow, really!? We have to start looking at gowns, then!"

"Yes, we're looking forward to it! I wonder what the theme will be this year."

Spring Dance?

"That, my dears, is a surprise. Just know that all the hosts have worked very hard to find only the best decorations and catering for our guests."

They all swooned at Kyoya's smooth cut words, alight with his usual false cheeriness. He smiled at his guests politely, listening to their excited rambling.

Huh. I should've figured they would have one. Just slipped my mind. Maybe that's why they wanted me up here, to help with preparations?

"Oh, (N/N)-chan!!! You look so pretty!"

Almost knocked back by Honey's embrace, she hid a giggle, letting him hug her – now that it's been nearly a month, the timid girl has gotten used to her elder's childish mannerisms.

"Hello, senpai. Um, thank you!"

He laughed cutely before letting her go. "So you got Tama-chan's note? I wasn't sure if you'd come visit us today."

"Yeah, I almost didn't see it actual-"

"Oh, Princess! Welcome!"

Yet again, she was scooped up into a pair of arms, but this time, she was twirled around and around and around, before finally her feet touched the ground once more, a pair of warm hands on her shoulders.

Her cheeks were pink from that welcome, and head spinning after that twirl; she still wasn't used to Tamaki's bear hugs. As nice as they were, they always made her chest flutter and twist, as if, suddenly, the only thing that was there was warmth, and a rosy cinnamon scent that she could lose herself in.

(Y/N) smiled.

"Hi, Tamaki-senpai."

"I'm glad you came today! We have many things to discuss, like the-"

"Spring Dance?"

"Oh! Yes. I'm guessing you've heard?"

His hands fell from her shoulders, as his head tilted like that of a puppy, blonde hair shining like gold under the florescent lights that hung in chandeliers from the ceiling high above.

"Well, just now I heard some of Kyoya's visitors talking about it- oh, I think you have people waiting, senpai."

She nodded her head towards the girls waiting patiently with smiles on their pretty faces. The taller nods. "Yeah, I'll tell you more about it later, okay? So don't leave!"

"Okay, don't worry! I'll be right here."

He smiled once again before greeting his guests and walking with them to a table.

She took it upon herself to sit, folded up in a sofa situated at the back of the expansive room, and plugged her earbuds in to block out the chatter that echoed. Plucking her journal out from her bag, she balanced it on her knee, continuing a sketch she'd been working on recently–a myosotis plant, more commonly known as forget-me-not's.

Small flowers, known for their symbolism of faithful love and reminiscent feelings; their color, known as "true blue," was the color of trust, loyalty and truth. She chose these flowers for an assignment in her art class, the project being on symbolism in everyday objects.

She was a bit of a nerd for those kinds of things.

From beside the focused girl peered a curious ginger over her shoulder. A pair of honey eyes roamed across the paper, watching as her hand moved and twitched, careful yet messy in a way he hadn't really seen before.

"What're you drawing, (Y/N)?"

Music drowned out his words, earbuds nestled safely in her ears as she just continued what she was doing, unbothered.

He decided to tuck his voice away for now, watching the pencil as it dragged across the paper, quietly. He moved closer, a sheepish smile playing on his lips as he crouched, propping his arm on the armrest of the chair, head leaning close to the oblivious girl's shoulder.

He'd seen those flowers before, overflowing in the pots that sit right outside his mansion's front doors, serving as a welcome whenever he arrived home. He never realized how pretty they were until that moment.

Soon enough she turned the page, and from the corner of his eye he saw a nonchalant smile pull on her cheeks - she wrote a message in her book.

How long have you been spying on me?

Kaoru chuckled, then pulled out an earbud of hers.

"About five minutes now, actually."

"Hm. You're such a stalker, you know that?"

Closing her book she turned towards the younger twin, headphone swinging and smacking Kaoru in the face as she moved; she held back an embarrassed laugh.

"Those are forget-me-not's, right?" His head tilted, lights reflecting in his eyes like constellations.

She lit up. "Yeah. I'm just doing rough sketches for a project I'm working on... I'm pretty excited to start painting it."

"That's right!" The girl jumped at his exclamation, dropping her journal with a thud, "We've never seen your paintings before. When will you show us your winning masterpiece, (Y/-"

"What's this?"

Her cheap journal was plucked from the floor by slim hands, mischievous eyes studying the contents of the page that had revealed itself from the prior fall.

"Wai-"

"Ooh, I never took you as the obsessive type, (Y/N)."

Kaoru stood abruptly from his crouch and walked over to where his twin was in front of the poor girl, lips falling open, just a bit, just enough to suck in a breath he didn't know he needed.

"And for Tamaki, no less!"

Imprinted on the thin pages of her grimoire, was an unfinished portrait of none other than Tamaki Suoh, eyes sleepy and hair a mess, but a smile as bright as the very sun. You could feel the warmth he radiated through the page.

What took Kaoru by surprise was how much detail was put into the whole thing, even if it was a bit sloppy. It looked like it held every color in the world, even though the only thing that was there was the dull, grey lead of the pencil and bits of eraser shavings caught here and there.

She jumped up and tried to snatch it out of the taunting male's hands, though he just held it over her head.

She felt like crying; nobody was supposed to see that.

"What are you all doing?"

None other than the king himself asked, taking long strides towards the twins. Hikaru couldn't get enough of this. For one reason or another, he felt acid deep down in his stomach that bit at him from the inside, but on his tongue was the sweet taste of hell's fire, and he would deal with the burning of his conscience later.

"Seems like you have another fan, boss! Look at this."

Though, the girl wouldn't give up that easily. She jumped up once again, eyes glaring holes through the auburn's head, and a shiver crawled up his spine. He almost considered giving it back. Almost.

Tamaki was there now, and it felt like everything was in slow motion for her. Yeah, maybe she was being dramatic, but she couldn't help it. That was private and special to her, not to mention how embarrassed she'd be if he saw it.

(Y/N) disregarded how she was now chest-to-chest with Hikaru Hitachiin, and how pink dusted his cheeks as his eyes slanted down at her own ones in a silent declaration of war. The tips of her toes kissed the marble of Ouran's floors as she leaned against the much, much taller male in effort to get back what was rightfully hers, but he only stretched his arm out further, completely ignoring everyone else's presence in the now emptying room.

In that moment, nothing mattered to either of them. There was nothing else but each other and the mutual feeling of a bloody red.

...Save for the other club members of course, who watched the whole ordeal with amusement.

Kyoya sipped on his earl grey. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say Hikaru is flirting, wouldn't you agree?"

Haruhi's hand clasped over her mouth in an effort not to laugh. She hummed in silent agreement. "Yeah, I'd definitely say so."

"(Y/N), you drew this...?"

It was those words that were the rain that washed the fire to ashes, though the biting heat lingered even when she pulled apart from Hikaru. His glare snapped to the wall as he avoided eye contact. Her skin was red with embarrassment and anger, blood boiling and burning her from the inside. The older twin only stood, arms crossed and eyebrows drawn together with an angry pout plastered on his rose petal lips.

Though, what she didn't know was that Hikaru was nauseous with the nasty aftertaste of guilt, pitchforks stabbing at his lungs, making it hard for him to do anything but clench his fists and bear it. He didn't care about how he made her feel. Why would he? She was just another one of Tamaki's stupid fangirls.

Right...?

He couldn't keep himself from glaring over at (Y/N) one last time.

- nobody -

Tamaki cleared his throat, clapping his hands together as all the hosts gathered and watched him.

"So, as many of you know, the annual spring dance is upon us, and we've already booked the grand hall for the ceremony."

(Y/N) listened curiously from her seat beside Mori, whom she felt safest by at the moment. He didn't ask questions; he didn't pry; he didn't do much of anything, really. His quiet presence was cooling against the fire raging red underneath her skin.

"I thought we should all gather to choose a theme. Last year's was royalty, and the decorations and dress code played off of that."

That's so like them. The girl grinned quietly to herself, finding their predictable nature entertaining. "Does anyone have any ideas?"

The girl hesitated, just for a moment, swallowing Hikaru's thorny glare like sour medicine.

"What about a vintage theme?" She spoke.

"Vintage theme...?" Tamaki questioned aloud, tilting his head slightly, just like she noticed he'd always do when thinking.

"Yeah. Like age old antiques, soft colors, lace, the like. Unless you've already done something like that, I mean.."

"No, no. Actually... That's a really good idea, (Y/N)," Kyoya flipped through his little black book, jotting down the girl's idea.

"Yeah. Sounds good."

(Y/N) shifted at the sudden voice beside her, quiet but not shy. Mori wasn't even looking at her, not sparing a single glance her way, his face bearing the same sea glass expression.

She took Mori's words to heart, those words he probably thought nothing much of. She then elaborated her thoughts, a little clearer, a little more confident.

"I think it would be really elegant, not to mention economical. We could maybe even visit a few antique shops for some of the decorations."

No one added anything in, silently willing her to continue.

"Soft colors, like cream and periwinkle and mauve would do. Maybe we can even make some kind of dress code."

Still, no one.

"...I don't know."

"That's a wonderful idea, (N/N)-chan!" Exclaimed Honey from his cozy seat on Mori's lap.

"Yeah, we've never done anything like that before. It could be really pretty," added Kaoru.

Kyoya chimed in, "Any other ideas?"

"Nope! I think this is what we're going for this year, my dear Kyoya!"

As the hosts scattered amongst themselves, Honey tucked his arms snugly around (Y/N)'s legs with a wide, sweet smile; too wide, too sweet. In the moment, though, the girl was caught up in catching butterflies in her stomach. They listened to me, she thought. Her hands subconsciously found their way around the short male's small frame, as they tended to these days.

"(N/N)-chan, do you wanna walk with us outside?"

A sheepish smile stretched her lips as she replied. "Can't, senpai. I have to prepare tomorrow's food."

"Oh, about that, (Y/N)."

Honey reluctantly loosened his hold and marched back to his tall companion. Kyoya stood at her side now, tucking his phone away safely into the pocket of his trousers.

She hummed, listening.

"We're not opening the club tomorrow, so you don't have to have anything ready. Just go home and get some rest."

(Y/N) turned her head to peer up at him. His eyes were unfocused, looking out at the blooming colors of spring outside the windows. She didn't understand what he was thinking or feeling, or if he was feeling anything at all for that matter.

In that moment, he reminded her of the darkness that separates the stars.

- nobody -

The walk home was full of life, unsurprisingly. Wildflowers and green grass lined the roads, honeybees buzzing happily as they kissed the flowers and danced with butterflies. There was still a few hours of the day left, judging by how the sun was strung in the sky, so instead she decided to walk to a local park. It was small and well-worn but very peaceful, with its rusty swings and small pond.

Ducks waddled around in and out of the water. Birds chirped back and forth in the few trees as a lady struggled to keep her small dog from chasing a poor squirrel scurrying around the base of an oak.

Settling on the swings, (Y/N) took a second to unwind. The wind was soft and carried the scent of wild roses as it soothed her skin. There were yellow daffodils happily swaying by the pond. Everything was okay in that moment.

In a swift movement the girl kicked off her shoes and hopped out of the swing, laughing at herself when she stumbled. The grass felt like silk on her callused feet as she stepped towards the large rose bush, crouching to smell its pink petals. Carefully, she plucked one, two, three, four roses and skipped away to gather a few daffodils, cattails, and dandelions.

For mom, when she gets home.

Right as she was about to steal a pinecone from its branch, her phone vibrated annoyingly in her pocket.

2 new messages from " the host club 👑✨💞"

Since when was I in a group chat??

Ignoring it, (Y/N) decided to check it out later. How did they even get her Instagram though? It didn't matter, she figured. She'd probably spent far too long at the park, anyway, if the creamy orange beginning to color the sky was any indication. It was time to head back home.

With all different kinds of plants gripped securely in her dirty hand, she retrieved her discarded shoes and gingerly walked back towards her neighborhood.

- nobody -

It wasn't until (Y/N) found herself sprawled across her bed and once more attempting to wrap-up her forget-me-not sketch that she remembered the notifications she had received from the host club prior.

The mixed bouquet of wild flowers she had managed to concoct was placed on her mother's nightstand, along with a note on which she had scrawled a short but sweet message the moment she arrived back home. Aside from that, the only things she had her mind set on were homework (regardless of how little she was assigned), dinner, and sleep. It's true, she was tired, a bit hungry as well, but she still chose to squeeze in some relaxing time to comfortably let her pencil dance across the designated page within her journal.

It almost amazed her how lost in thought she would find herself whenever she decided to let her creative side flow as freely as it did. It's as if she would switch over to autopilot and let nothing but her hand take control while her mind soared with an intoxicated sort of vigor as it explored every idea that subconsciously came to her head.

It was for this exact reason that it took her several moments to register the lit-up screen of her phone lying atop the cluster of unmade sheets just inches away.

Setting down her pencil, (Y/N) diverted her attention to the rectangular device and awkwardly shifted positions before picking it up and unlocking it. The number of messages from earlier had since multiplied, a prominent 61 plastered on the corner of the application.

haruhi.fuji: Well I know of a few thrift shops around near my apartment. You can find all kinds of hidden gems there.

haruhi.fuji: Don't know about antique stores though, but (Y/N)-chan might know of some.

tama_king: Thrift stores????

(58 more messages)

The corners of her lips upturned just enough for her to notice.

She opened the app and scrolled through the messages, skimming through notifications and following each member back. Well, accept for Hikaru, who hadn't even followed her in the first place. Hesitantly, (Y/N) typed out a message, then deleted it, then typed it out again, then deleted it. The girl sighed, chewing on her cheek, trying to decide what to say.

tama_king: Look (Y/N)s online!!

Well, leave it to Tamaki to point her out. Said girl settled for a simple greeting.

(username): hi everyone!

haruhi.fuji: (Y/N), we were just talking about what kind of decorations we should get for the spring dance.

(username): oh, well i figured we could just go looking through local shops to find authentic antique decor

haruhi.fuji: Like all of us out shopping together??

tama_king: That sounds like fun we should go see all the commoner shops together!

(Y/N) suddenly had regrets. All eight of them, six of which all likely hadn't ever even heard of a thrift store before, out and about? Even if she was starting to grow used to the lot of them, it was a whole other thing to be seen out in public with them. It wasn't that (Y/N) was embarrassed of them, but more so bothered by how much attention they seem to bring towards themselves. The socially awkward girl wasn't sure if she could handle that very well.

(username): i mean, sure??

haruhi.fuji: That sounds... ;;;

(username): yeah ik, migjt not be the best of ideas i've had huh

(username): *might

She quietly laughed to herself, trying to shake off the dread that was already piling on her shoulders.

tama_king: No, it sounds like a great idea!!

The "Oh, what have I done," slipped past her lips as she saw none other than Kyoya himself finalize the plans.

KyoyaOotori: I see you three have been planning an outing?

KyoyaOotori: And when are we all going to do this?

It was funny, because she could practically feel him shaking his head through the screen. Maybe the two of them were more alike than she had originally thought.

She decided then that she might as well go through with it.

(username): well, earlier you said i didn't have to prep for tomorrows guests, so i'm free tomorrow after school.

tama_king: The host club was planned to be closed tomorrow for preparations to be made for the dance. i'm sure our lovely guests wouldn't mind. so Kyoya, is tomorrow okay to go out shopping?

KyoyaOotori: I suppose that it would be a good learning experience to see what low-budget commoner living is like. So, yes, that sounds just fine. I'll make sure to let the others know.

It looked like all had been settled, so she switched the device back off and let it sit to the side. The sound of the door clicking shut and the A/C being tampered with alerted the young girl of her mother's arrival home, so she skipped into the doorway to greet her.

She looked tired, just as she always did, with the same empty smile and hollow eyes. (Y/N) hugged her and in a small voice, said hello.

"Heya, Pumpkin."

There was nothing else to be said as the woman kicked off her shoes and walked into her room, no doubtedly to sleep until she had to drag herself back out to work again. (Y/N) hoped she liked the flowers she had picked out for her.

Sometimes there is no worse feeling than guilt that will eat one out from the inside.

She felt as though the way that things were running in her house functioned like an unbalanced scale. Her mother always came home exhausted and worn-out as the result of working from dawn to dusk, and it hurt the young girl's heart to see her in such poor condition. It wasn't extremely often that she would even get the chance to say hello, and rarer still that she ever had the time to hold a good conversation.

They both loved each other more than life itself, and (Y/N) knew that better than anyone else, but with all the overbearing work her mother put up with, day and night, everything just seemed...

Unfair.

Bitter and unsavory thoughts aside, one glance at the clock on the microwave reminded her of the looming drowsiness she felt gradually washing over her. It had been a long day, and the next was certain to be even longer.

With this in mind, she experienced little to no hesitation before striding off towards her bathroom to ready herself for what she hoped to a good night's rest. Once she was curled up under the cotton sheets and had her stuffed animal of choice in a loving grip (not caring about how childish she may have seemed), the bluish light of her phone caught her attention as she slowly and reluctantly lifted up one eyelid.

Reaching for the device resting on her night stand, she opened both eyes; given how she hadn't really been exposed to the darkness of her room for a prolonged amount of time, it didn't take long to adjust to the screen's luminescent glow as she focused on the message displayed on her lock screen. A single notification was shown, and (Y/N) couldn't help but allow a small smile to make its way onto her face once she had processed what it read.

haruhi.fuji: Good luck tomorrow, (Y/N). Hope you'll be able to handle a few hours out with those goofballs.

#ohshc #ohshc x reader #tamaki suoh #tamaki x reader #kyoya ootori #kyoya x reader #haruhi fujioka #haruhi x reader #hitachiin brothers #kaoru hitachiin #hikaru hitachiin #hitachiin twins x reader #nobody - chapter 3 #hopiewrites #nobody

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juhihuji · 4 years

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my big cringy text post full of useless info about Juhi Zo (oc)

Uhhh this is in response to the anon from curious cat who asked ‘bout my oc...it was too much text.......

Hey. HEY? r u tryna make me cry cuz that's how you do it I'm so happy ppl like her when I was so ashamed and embarrassed to show her lmao Ah...there's so so so much about her and I've tried typing it out over n over but it's hard to tell her story without going off on long tangents trying to explain other details. Like, it wouldn't make sense without them...and I didn't wanna make this post super long and I'm still embarrassed about talking about it ...I hope u r cool with just hearing random facts and snippets of story about her ah I'm sorry ;_;

I created her with the intention of using her for self inserting/shipping lmao but that's probably obvious...and idk if she breaks any rules of the universe and I feel weird talkin' about her cuz I'm only in the middle of Shippuden so I don't know what the whole world is like lol but uuh

She's left handed

One of her hobbies is jewelry making. She mainly uses wire and ceramic beads and gives them as gifts to her friends. They might wear it to be polite but nobody really likes it lmao

Her team consists of herself, her lil brother Zitien, her big sister Agneya, and is lead by her mom or dad. They switch out cuz they care about spending time with their kids lol

Some of my art depicts her skin tone as richly saturated for aesthetic reasons, but she's meant to be quite grey because of a mineral in her body! It's part of her kekkei genkai™

She has a seal on her back and it's got two parts! One seals her entire weight, the other seals her entire temperature???? Kinda like how Tsunade's holdin' in her old, like suckin' in a gut. It's like that with Juhi's body temperature and weight and she can partially open each seal individually. Full grown at 5'4", she weighs 3.4 tonnes unsealed and her body is a hot hot 2100°C when unsealed. She's just super dense and hot and heavy! Like she's made of metal or something. When fully unsealed the weight and heat can warp her body structure as if she's melting, and when she seals that shit back up and her body cools back down she could remain permanently deformed! There are doctors on her home island who specialize in fixing some of that through corrective surgery, like parts of her skeleton fusing into one big mass, but not everything can be fixed! So she's gotta watch it!

She has nightmares about her face melting and people being scared of her or not being able to recognize her cuz you can't bring the face back to normal after it melts. Everyday she wakes up and checks her face obsessively to make sure all her features are the same distance apart and the same shape and whatnot

Even when fully sealed, full grown she weighs 300 pounds with an internal body temp of 40°C and for that reason she sinks like a rock and is terrified of large bodies of water! Learning to walk on water was the first thing ppl of her clan with the same kekkei genkai learn.

When her temperature is higher, she can (for the most part, aside from the melting at the highest temps) withstand and survive temperatures the same as hers or slightly higher, but for example at an internal temp of 400°C she will burn at 450°C

I love drawin' sweat and I even draw Juhi with sweat on her body cuz I can't help it but she doesn't sweat! She's always dehydrated and most of her body's moisture evaporates through exhalation as a complication caused by her kekkei genkai.

People from her island are trained to use a different type of chakra and her kekkei genkai also makes her body extremely efficient in using that chakra, so a little goes a long way. One of the things that comes from that is she doesn't typically get uncomfortably hot or cold. She can sense changes in temperatures, but her body is really efficient at maintaining homeostasis and she just don't get too bothered by it! To a point, anyway.

wow i talked lots about her KG but just the boring useless facts about it and not what it actually is but i did say random hahee :•)

For her Naruto AU she exists on a branching timeline, one branch where she falls in love with Shino and one where she falls in love with Kankuro! ew!

In the Shino timeline she takes on a more taijutsu focused fighting style thus we have taiJuhi!

Because of her weight/density she moves pretty slow for a ninja, but her mental reaction speed is typical of any decent shinobi. So don't let her catch you cuz her punches swing like a cannon and she will grapple her opponents and cook them alive. Her weight also makes it hard to knock her off balance.

Not great at long distance fighting. Sometimes uses a metal two-handed weapon.

Bein' a ninja's really tough for her since she's slow, but she wants it badly and works hard to keep up

Later in life she moves to and works in Konoha at a nuclear power plant owned and run by her clan wtf

Shino has been to Juhi's home island a couple times and he has to wear a lead suit to survive the harsh and nearly uninhabitable environment. The people from the island evolved to withstand it.

The first time he went, they took a ship to the island then went by train for a few hundred miles into the centre where the village is. The first time was for a mission, another Aburame came too. Some time during their friendship, Juhi gifted Shino beetles from her island that can survive the environment. Shino selectively bred them to be usable as an extra layer of protection beneath his and his clansman's skin to protect their internal organs while on the mission! How goofy

In the Kankuro timeline she takes on a more ninjutsu focused fighting style thus we have ninJuhi!

Later in life she works a job 6 months out of the year on her home island as a sentinel for the family who governs the island??

In this timeline she dies some time during the events in Boruto ig (still haven't gotten to Boruto yet tho). Her seal malfunctions and everything she touches burns or melts and everywhere she stands she sinks into the ground. She's far from home and all she can think to do to save everyone from herself is to run into the ocean. Her footfalls sound like thunder and the ground shakes deeply as she pounds the ground running towards the shore. The sand turns into a hard crust beneath every foot step that hits the beach. Suddenly, her sprinting figure turns into noise and white haze as she reaches the tides and nobody can see her anymore. It's the water, hissing deafeningly loud as it evaporates into thick clouds instantly upon contact with her body. Her body's efficient energy usage takes her far into the ocean before she begins to run out of chakra. Her body starts to cool down from the ocean water and she's getting too tired to hold up the weight of her 3.4 tonne body. Eventually she crumples on the ocean floor and dies, melting and embedding into the earth's crust.

She loves spicy food

uhhh that was a lot of boring information sorry about that! wanted this post to be short but got carried away :•( her life's supposed to be kind of a crooked painful mess but she's pretty cheery cuz to her it's all normal and she's got the love and support of her friends and family baby! ain't that how it always goes in Naruto also sorry for sloppy writing im dum

#text post #Juhi #Juhi Zo #naruto oc

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theomnilegent · 5 years

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2019 Upcoming LGBTQA Fiction I’m Excited For!

A new year, a new top nine for women-lead LGBT fiction I’m looking forward to reading! There are, of course, a great many more books than the nine I’ve chosen this time ‘round - I think I will eventually make a part two to this post. I am so, so happy to see that this year we have even more diversity, even more stories about characters from all walks of life, from different parts of the LGBTQA umbrella, and even more LGBT novels. I remember a time where it’d be hard to find more than two YA novels with LGBT themes published in a single year - and now we have so many amazing works coming out!

The themes for 2019 seem to be gay witches, space gays, and explorations of mental illness in the LGBT community. I am so excited to read stories about girls and magic! I am more excited to read stories about girls and love! And I am definitely excited to see multiple books seriously addressing the issues of mental illness in young lesbian and bisexual women - it is a serious topic that has often been glossed over in the past, and to see multiple works that want to tackle these issues, and the issues of toxic relationships, in a healthy way is refreshing.

Below you’ll find titles, summaries, and goodreads links.

Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me by Mariko Tamaki Laura Dean, the most popular girl in high school, was Frederica Riley's dream girl: charming, confident, and SO cute. There's just one problem: Laura Dean is maybe not the greatest girlfriend. Reeling from her latest break up, Freddy's best friend, Doodle, introduces her to the Seek-Her, a mysterious medium, who leaves Freddy some cryptic parting words: break up with her. But Laura Dean keeps coming back, and as their relationship spirals further out of her control, Freddy has to wonder if it's really Laura Dean that's the problem. Maybe it's Freddy, who is rapidly losing her friends, including Doodle, who needs her now more than ever. Fortunately for Freddy, there are new friends, and the insight of advice columnists like Anna Vice to help her through being a teenager in love.

Starworld by Audrey Coulthurst & Paula Garner Sam Jones and Zoe Miller have one thing in common: they both want an escape from reality. Loner Sam flies under the radar at school and walks on eggshells at home to manage her mom’s obsessive-compulsive disorder, wondering how she can ever leave to pursue her dream of studying aerospace engineering. Popular, people-pleasing Zoe puts up walls so no one can see her true self: the girl who was abandoned as an infant, whose adoptive mother has cancer, and whose disabled brother is being sent away to live in a facility. When an unexpected encounter results in the girls’ exchanging phone numbers, they forge a connection through text messages that expands into a private universe they call Starworld. In Starworld, they find hilarious adventures, kindness and understanding, and the magic of being seen for who they really are. But when Sam’s feelings for Zoe turn into something more, will the universe they’ve built survive the inevitable explosion?

The Lost Coast by Amy Rose Capetta Danny didn't know what she was looking for when she and her mother spread out a map of the United States and Danny put her finger down on Tempest, California. What she finds are the Grays: a group of friends who throw around terms like queer and witch like they're ordinary and everyday, though they feel like an earthquake to Danny. But Danny didn't just find the Grays. They cast a spell that calls her halfway across the country, because she has something they need: she can bring back Imogen, the most powerful of the Grays, missing since the summer night she wandered into the woods alone. But before Danny can find Imogen, she finds a dead boy with a redwood branch through his heart. Something is very wrong amid the trees and fog of the Lost Coast, and whatever it is, it can kill. Lush, eerie, and imaginative, Amy Rose Capetta's tale overflows with the perils and power of discovery — and what it means to find your home, yourself, and your way forward.

Tell Me How You Really Feel by Aminah Mae Safi Sana Khan is a cheerleader and a straight A student. She's the classic (somewhat obnoxious) overachiever determined to win. Rachel Recht is a wannabe director who's obsesssed with movies and ready to make her own masterpiece. As she's casting her senior film project, she knows she's found the perfect lead - Sana. There's only one problem. Rachel hates Sana. Rachel was the first girl Sana ever asked out, but Rachel thought it was a cruel prank and has detested Sana ever since. Told in alternative viewpoints and inspired by classic romantic comedies, this engaging and edgy YA novel follows two strongwilled young women falling for each other despite themselves.

The Meaning of Birds by Jaye Robin Brown Before, Jessica has always struggled with anger issues, but come sophomore year that all changes when Vivi crashes into her life. As their relationship blossoms, Vivi not only helps Jess deal with her pain, she also encourages her to embrace her talent as an artist. And for the first time, it feels like the future is filled with possibilities. After In the midst of senior year, Jess’s perfect world is erased when Vivi suddenly passes away. Reeling from the devastating loss, Jess pushes everyone away, and throws out her plans to go to art school. Because art is Vivi and Vivi is gone forever. Desperate for an escape, Jess gets consumed in her work-study program, letting all of her dreams die. Until she makes an unexpected new friend who shows her a new way to channel her anger, passion, and creativity. Although Jess may never draw again, if she can find a way to heal and room in her heart, she just might be able to forge a new path for herself without Vivi.

The Weight of the Stars by K. Ancrum Ryann Bird dreams of traveling across the stars. But a career in space isn’t an option for a girl who lives in a trailer park on the wrong side of town. So Ryann becomes her circumstances and settles for acting out and skipping school to hang out with her delinquent friends. One day she meets Alexandria: a furious loner who spurns Ryann’s offer of friendship. After a horrific accident leaves Alexandria with a broken arm, the two misfits are brought together despite themselves—and Ryann learns her secret: Alexandria’s mother is an astronaut who volunteered for a one-way trip to the edge of the solar system. Every night without fail, Alexandria waits to catch radio signals from her mother. And its up to Ryann to lift her onto the roof day after day until the silence between them grows into friendship, and eventually something more...

How It Feels To Float by Helena Fox Biz knows how to float. She has her people, her posse, her mom and the twins. She has Grace. And she has her dad, who tells her about the little kid she was, who loves her so hard, and who shouldn't be here but is. So Biz doesn't tell anyone anything. Not about her dark, runaway thoughts, not about kissing Grace or noticing Jasper, the new boy. And she doesn't tell anyone about her dad. Because her dad died when she was six. And Biz knows how to float, right there on the surface--normal okay regular fine. But after what happens on the beach--first in the ocean, and then in the sand--the tethers that hold Biz steady come undone. Dad disappears, and with him, all comfort. It might be easier, better, sweeter to float all the way away? Or maybe stay a little longer, find her father, bring him back to her. Or maybe--maybe maybe maybe--there's a third way Biz just can't see yet.

Going Off Script by Jen Wilde Seventeen-year-old Bex is thrilled when she gets an internship on her favorite tv show, Silver Falls. Unfortunately, the internship isn't quite what she expected... instead of sitting in a crowded writer's room volleying ideas back and forth, Production Interns are stuck picking up the coffee. Determined to prove her worth as a writer, Bex drafts her own script and shares it with the head writer―who promptly reworks it and passes it off as his own! Bex is understandably furious, yet...maybe this is just how the industry works? But when they rewrite her proudly lesbian character as straight, that's the last straw! It's time for Bex and her crush to fight back.

These Witches Don’t Burn by Isabel Sterling Hannah's a witch, but not the kind you're thinking of. She's the real deal, an Elemental with the power to control fire, earth, water, and air. But even though she lives in Salem, Massachusetts, her magic is a secret she has to keep to herself. If she's ever caught using it in front of a Reg (read: non-witch), she could lose it. For good. So, Hannah spends most of her time avoiding her ex-girlfriend (and fellow Elemental Witch) Veronica, hanging out with her best friend, and working at the Fly by Night Cauldron selling candles and crystals to tourists, goths, and local Wiccans. But dealing with her ex is the least of Hannah's concerns when a terrifying blood ritual interrupts the end-of-school-year bonfire. Evidence of dark magic begins to appear all over Salem, and Hannah's sure it's the work of a deadly Blood Witch. The issue is, her coven is less than convinced, forcing Hannah to team up with the last person she wants to see: Veronica. While the pair attempt to smoke out the Blood Witch at a house party, Hannah meets Morgan, a cute new ballerina in town. But trying to date amid a supernatural crisis is easier said than done, and Hannah will have to test the limits of her power if she's going to save her coven and get the girl, especially when the attacks on Salem's witches become deadlier by the day.

#queer fiction #wlw books #wlw literature #queer literature #lgbtqa literature #lgbt #book recommendations #yeah i'm gonna do this every year wlw books excite me

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thesublemon · 5 years

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songs of impotence and experience

In the last couple years, I’ve revisited a lot of the things that were meaningful to me when I was younger. I’m not exactly sure why I did that. Some nostalgia. Some curiosity about whether they held up. Some sense that maybe I could get some insight into myself. Why did I love the things I loved at a time when my id was more unfiltered? What did the younger version of myself need art about that maybe the adult version doesn’t?

A lot of the works are superficially goofy genre shit, but space ships, aliens and made-up words never really felt like it was what I loved about them. My taste was just as indiscriminate as a kid as it is now, which meant I read and watched and liked a wide variety of things. Proper literary things, even. I don’t think it’s an accident that I often connect(ed) with superficially goofy genre shit. Just like I don’t think it’s an accident that a different person might connect with musicals or period movies. But that’s an aspect of my personality to analyze another time.

No, what I realized was that all of these space-and-aliens-stories…on some level, were impotence stories. They’re stories about being manipulated by outside forces, or having shit stuck in you against your will. Stories about parasites. Stories about going insane. And while those might sound like “intense” themes for a child or teenager to be preoccupied with (as if children and teenagers don’t feel things intensely), I realized that it actually made complete and utter sense. When you’re young it feels like things are constantly just happening to you. Adults make decisions for you. Society makes demands of you. It’s hard to know what power you even have, let alone how to use it. Of course I’d relate to impotence.

I remember being obsessed with Ender’s Game. I don’t even know how many times I read it between the ages of 8 and 12. There was something in me that identified with being a pawn in an adult’s world, where your intelligence or your allegiance could be used to fight their wars and you’d have no control over it, no understanding of it. This sense that you were hurting others by proxy, fighting the wrong fights, because you didn’t understand how your power was being used. But that you had power. The feeling that if you were smart and special enough to be wanted, or to know that something was up, then you should have been smart enough to change the game.

Of course there’s arrogance in believing that you, a child, are so important that all of these adults want things from you. Arrogance in looking at a 6 year old military genius and going that speaks to me. But the truth is, adults do want things from children, even “unremarkable” children. They might want a child’s validation, obedience, affection, loyalty or even something as simple and benign as happiness. Being an unhappy child when you know your parents just want you to be all right? What a feeling of failure.

There was a sense that all of these adults—including but not limited to my parents—were invested in religion, or politics, or personal narratives, or some view of the world, and I had the power to reinforce it. I could grow up to be a good exemplar of their ideological beliefs, I could give them the feeling that I admired or needed them, I could pay them attention, I could tell them I believed them. But I couldn’t know whether doing those things was what I actually wanted. I couldn’t know if twenty years down the line I’d be yearning for an enemy’s forgiveness, and speaking for the dead.

Fast-forward to Farscape. Farscape is about a character who looks like he should be the hero. A character who knows the same hero stories we know, and thinks he should live up to them. But then the narrative makes him alien, and incompetent, and strips him of his every bit of cultural context and familiarity. In a narrative sense, it “feminizes” him. People want things from John Crichton, and it never has anything to do with him as a person (“Don’t be jealous Frau Blücher. He only loves me for my mind.”). Everyone is always hijacking his body and putting things into it. Microbes, needles, knowledge, chips. He spends most of the show with the villain literally living inside his head. An inescapable, macabre companion that aggressively dresses himself in the drag of Crichton’s psyche.

Language is a constant motif in Farscape, because language is how you communicate yourself. If you lack language, you’re impotent. You’re alien. It’s no coincidence that Crichton’s first moment of alien-ation is that he’s injected with translator microbes. It’s no coincidence that A Human Reaction flips repeatedly between how the alien characters sound to humans, and how they sound to Crichton. It’s no coincidence that the final horror of Die Me Dichotomy is that Crichton loses his power of speech. It’s no coincidence that Aeryn starts learning English, and Crichton starts quipping in Spanish. It’s no coincidence that Crichton starts the show speaking in incomprehensible human cultural references to aliens and ends up speaking in incomprehensible alien references to humans (“Fred Scarran. From the Gainesville Scarrans.”).

And not to be unbearably personal, but as a teenage girl who was going deaf, I responded to all of that. On a basic, physical level I felt like I was losing my ability to understand people, and by virtue of not understanding, becoming unable to make myself understood. A feeling of standing outside myself and watching myself become an alien. A feeling of invasion because I could no longer exist without technological augmentation. But there was also a gendered level. Being a girl and feeling like the world’s reaction to my physical form suddenly had consequences that it was up to me to either mitigate or capitalize upon. That sexuality was suddenly something I was supposed to be able to wield, and I had no idea how. This feeling that my body was betraying me both functionally and as my means of mediating between my Self and the world. In other words, a feeling that biology and social narratives were conspiring, like the universe in Farscape, to “feminize” me.

There was a cultural level too. I was aware of being in this American social moment that seemed grotesquely material and political. So are all moments in their own way, but I didn’t know that then. All I knew was that all these people cared about PT Cruisers and Super Size Me and Idiocracy and The Simple Life and Fahrenheit 911 and freedom fries and cartoons of Bush as a monkey. All these adults were begging for me to take a side about these things that felt stupid and ugly and profane. And none their interest in my side-taking had anything to do with me, anyway.

So at that time I wanted a hero’s journey that wasn’t a hero’s journey. I wanted a story about saying “fuck you” to the forces of the universe that were clutching at my hems and driving me insane, and going off to live as an alien and eking what joy I could from it. A story about saying “no” to the two equally evil sides of any evil, pointless war. I wanted a story about how maybe that made you a monster, or maybe that was a heroic thing to do. Maybe there was something horrible about it, but maybe there was something wonderful in it too.

Rewind to Animorphs. The whole concept of a Yeerk in your head using your body and speaking out your mouth. If my attraction to Ender’s Game was in part about the fear that adults and institutions were hijacking my abilities, then Animorphs was about the fear that the adults themselves were hijacked. There’s real horror in the idea that your mom isn’t your mom and your friends aren’t your friends, but prisoners trapped in their own minds, being piloted by an outside force. The fear that you’d have to re-interpret your every interaction with the people you admired or cared about, looking for ulterior motives. The feeling that say, your parent isn’t speaking their own beliefs, but rather acting as a mouthpiece for their country or their neuroses or an ad on TV.

One might rightfully observe, well isn’t that just They Live or Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Rhinoceros for kids? Yes, in part. But there’s the additional, crucial fact that these Yeerks only steal people’s bodies because they’re planet-bound slugs otherwise. The Yeerks aren’t an impersonal disease, and Controllers aren’t mindless zombies. The Yeerks are Pilots, just wanting to see the stars. Pilots that didn’t wait meekly for a Leviathan to take them or a PK to tempt them, but went and conquered an empire’s worth of sentient creatures themselves. Pilots we’re primed to see as disgusting instead of pitiable or majestic because they’re just slimy little slugs, right? The Yeerks are the antagonists because they’re the idea that powerlessness begets powerlessness. They’re the idea that you may feel impotent, but growing up to control others just makes you the villain.

It makes sense that the Animorphs are shapeshifters, and young, not just because whatever, these are technically books for children and turning into animals sounds cool. I like to imagine there’s some symbolism about flexibility there. It reminds me of His Dark Materials and the way that a child’s daemon has no settled form. An impossible circumstance? You morph. You don’t take and conquer; you change.

(I’m not reading too much into things when I say that. The books draw parallels between the Yeerks and the Animorphs from the very beginning. Marco pointing out in #1 The Invasion that Tobias wants to escape his life as badly as a voluntary Controller does. Cassie worrying in #4 The Message that they dominate the animals they morph the way the Yeerks dominate their hosts. Later in #16 The Warning they’ll debate the morality of morphing people. “Controlling” versus “morphing” is one of the most central dichotomies of Animorphs, one the Animorphs themselves do not always land on the right side of.)

Disability themes are rampant. Everyone is trapped: Tobias as a hawk, Ax on Earth, hosts in their heads, Yeerks in their pools, the Animorphs in their war. To say nothing of the times the books get explicit about it, like the Andalite taboos around vecols or that final arc when they give the ward of disabled kids the morphing power. And the question every time is, which of two non-ideal options for dealing with some limitation are you going to take? Do you live as a hawk, or do you give up? When the Animorphs give the Auxiliaries the morphing power, it isn’t a triumphant moment. They do it so the kids can fight, like the Animorphs themselves had to. They do it knowing that the kids will die.

That sort of thing was the appeal of Animorphs. They were exciting, funny, imaginative page-turners, sure. But half of the reason they were page-turners was because they centered these terrible ethical quandaries, and devastating emotional choices. That’s the kind of thing that makes you pay attention in fiction: situations where you don’t know the way out, so you don’t know what will happen. The same way you don’t know what will happen once you realize that the adults can’t be trusted, or your life isn’t entirely your own.

Here are some things I think are interesting.

I think it’s interesting that both the morphing power in Animorphs and Leviathans in Farscape are the things those works treat as something that can be profaned. Morphing may be described in gruesome, body horrific detail, but nonetheless an animal’s power is treated as something to be respected and used to fight. So David abusing morphing is profane. Visser Three morphing is profane. Similarly, forcing Moya to give birth to a gunship is profane. Cutting Pilot’s arms off is profane. The clones eating the walls of the ship in Eat Me is profane. And both of those, morphing and Moya, are symbols of transformation. Morphing in the obvious sense, and Moya in the sense of a guardian or shepherd or mother. The sacred instrument of your journey.

I think it’s interesting that the protagonists of all three stories change, but not necessarily for the better.

I think it’s interesting that all three stories involve loving and understanding the Other. Both Farscape and Animorphs are full of important interspecies relationships: Tobias and Rachel, Elfangor and Loren, Dak and Aldrea (it’s potentially relevant that Jake and Cassie are an interracial relationship too), or John and Aeryn, D’argo and Chiana (and Lolaan), Zhaan and Stark, Scorpius and Sikozu. Both Animorphs and Ender’s Game involve the protagonists—and the audience, by extension—learning “humanizing” things about the aliens that they’re fighting against. Aliens that have forms that they are not inclined to empathize with.

I think it’s interesting that Animorphs has a lot of the same parasitism versus symbiosis themes that Farscape does, but takes them in a direction that has less to do with sex and breeding (because as unbelievably dark as Animorphs gets they’re still books for kids) and more to do with authority. Where Farscape is full of half-breeds and genetic atrocities, Animorphs is full of gods and Galateas. In Farscape, parasitism versus symbiosis is about becoming alien in a positive way, or a self-directed way, versus being forced into alienation. Loving the Other versus being made Other. Birth imagery versus rape imagery. Whereas in Animorphs parasitism versus symbiosis is about control versus autonomy. How are people supposed to satisfy their competing desires without taking away other people’s agency? How much power should authorities have over the people they’re responsible for (and responsible to)?

#26 The Attack was always one of my favorite Animorphs books because of the way it drew parallels between all of these pseudo-children and their creators. The Pemalites made the Chee, Crayak made the Howlers, and Elfangor “made” the Animorphs. Then those children duke it out for the souls of the Iskoorts and the Yeerks. A literal war of symbiosis versus parasitism. The existence of the Pemalites and the Chee might lead one to think that creating children in your desired image is reasonable and ethical, because we all love dogs don’t we? And then you meet the Howlers, who are simultaneously pure innocents and terrifying killers. Creatures that think of killing as play, as a game of fetch, because that’s what they were made to be. The Howlers are dogs too. You realize that the Animorphs are their own kind of created beings. They were given powers to fight a war for someone else.

In other words, if you look at it a certain way, all of these children have been co-opted and controlled as much as Yeerks co-opt and control their hosts. Animorphs is deeply anti-war. And one of the main ways it’s anti-war is by painting war as something essentially parasitic. Something that chews people up. Something that traumatizes its protagonists from the word go. Something that forces you to make awful moral choices. Something that only happens when competing forces can’t resolve their needs in any other way. War is parasitic and parasitism leads to war.

I think it’s interesting that all of these stories involve war, and none of them are fond of it. They each question and deconstruct the genre of war story that they seem to belong to. Instead of telling a militaristic scifi story about crushing alien Others, and being led by nigh-mythological generals, Ender’s Game tells a militaristic scifi story about child soldiers, bureaucracy, misunderstanding the Other, and how although true genius and leadership exists, it can rarely outsmart the military apparatus that controls it. Instead of telling a campy Power Rangers tale about the wonders of friendship, Animorphs was intended, by the author’s own admission, to be a “grunts-eyed view” of combat that showed the “honest cost” of war. A group of guerrilla soldiers may form bonds and accomplish remarkable things, but their story will not end with medals or Ewok revelry. Instead of telling a utopic Star Trek story where humans are powerful and advanced and have near-imperial influence, Farscape tells a story about how humans are weak and clannish, and advanced imperial powers wage wars based on nothing better than conquest or mercenary interest. Crichton becomes a kind of warrior to defend himself, but he never becomes a soldier. He leads no armies or rebellions. He is nothing more than a bargaining chip in other people’s conflicts. The protagonists of all three stories wrestle with the guilt of having had to kill their enemies on a massive scale, and innocents along with them.

I think it’s interesting how embodied these stories are. There was something novel and arresting to my young brain, reading Peter’s jokes about pubic hair, or the descriptions of Ender smashing a boy’s nose. The feeling of a monitor in your neck, gravity and anti-gravity, the grappling shower fight. It feels uncomfortable and deliberate that these children are described in the “gross”, physical way that adults in boot-camp war stories normally are. There was something mesmerizing about all those descriptions of morphing. Every book there’d be paragraphs on paragraphs about teeth rearranging, legs sprouting, eyes popping, bones liquefying. Descriptions of the hunger and fear (and sometimes delight) of animals. Descriptions of horrifying battle wounds. Limbs removed, intestines spilling out, being eaten alive by ants. There was something affirming in how sexual, and how disgusting Farscape was. That even the puppets got horny, and John and Aeryn kissed like they meant it. That people ate and farted and were full of goo.

Change, symbiosis, bodies, war. I’m not going to overreach and claim that those themes necessarily go hand-in-hand with impotence, or that these three stories I happened to love indicate anything other than that they’re kind of story I happened to love. I recognize that I’ve glossed over potential interpretations or criticisms of these stories in order to draw the parallels that interest me. But I do think that war, i.e. super-personal conflict, and bodies are two of the most fundamental ways that power and selfhood get taken away. You lose yourself when you sign your will over to forces bigger than you, and you lose yourself when you die. Bodies are inextricable from mortality, and are a kind of shorthand for every natural circumstance you can’t control. Whereas change and symbiosis are the hopeful alternatives. Symbiosis means merging with something other, even bigger, than you, but in an inherently mutually beneficial way. You don’t get lost, because it wouldn’t be symbiosis if your needs weren’t being met, but you do become “more.” Change, in turn, implies agency. Nature and circumstance may transform you—transform you to the point of death—but you can also transform yourself. Change is a neutral force that anyone can potentially wield.

I don’t know that I need those stories anymore. I still love them, still find them meaningful (in fact I re-read some Animorphs to write this and I was taken aback by just how much I still honestly loved it). But I don’t recognize myself in them in quite the same way. Precisely, I think, because I do have power now. Not a lot. But I have a sense of what I’m good at, and what I can control. I dress how I like, think about what I like, talk to who I like. Having a body is a still a crock of shit, but that isn’t new information anymore. None of the ways I lack control over my life are new information anymore. And so there is less of a need to process the horror of it via fiction.

It was interesting rewatching Buffy, because Buffy was never something that I identified with when I was younger, despite the fact that it was a show about a teenage girl. Possibly because fundamentally, Buffy is a story about empowerment. Buffy has power. That’s the key thing about her. It’s true that like the characters in the other stories, she has been conscripted into a supernatural war against her will. She struggles with her agency, and is increasingly traumatized by the choices she has to make. But she wins. That is the point of her. She’s a classical hero. Her heroism is moving and satisfying because it’s never emotionally easy. It’s earned. But it’s still heroism.

So I was surprised that as an adult, I found myself relating to it. You might look at a season like season six, and think that that’s an impotence story, because a lot of it is about depression and when one is depressed one certainly feels impotent. But I see it more as a story about having agency and not knowing what the hell to do with it. The terror of “you have to make your own decisions now.” And most of the seasons are like that. They involve Buffy accepting some aspect of her power and growing up about it.

I notice a number of the stories I’ve been drawn to in my 20’s have had themes like that. I’ve found myself lingering on stories about women, and stories about confronting one’s agency. As a teenager, I loved Slings and Arrows, because Geoffrey Tennant was yet another character buffeted by outside forces (Art and Social Constraints On Art), with his own, art-related Harvey. But as an adult I was excited by Cayce Pollard instead. Someone who on the one hand is practically crippled by her responses to aesthetic stimuli, but on the other hand (a) uses this to practical effect, and (b) actually spends time examining to what extent her responses are disordered. I was similarly excited by Clarice Starling learning to pursue her taste in Hannibal.

It’s a weird shift, to realize you’re not powerless. It’s not necessarily a pleasant shift. It’s why I’ve never been compelled by empowerment stories that treat it as a triumphant, unambiguously positive thing. Stories that conflate having power with having the judgement or moral authority to use that power well. With great power comes great responsibility, but how do you know what the responsible thing to do even is? If you’re empowered by a story, all it really means is that it made you feel confident enough to make your own mistakes (or not-mistakes, of course) instead of someone else’s. Which can be quite a good and exciting thing. But it also means that if things go badly, it’s no-one’s fault but your own.

So I find that the stories about power that are most satisfying to me are actually stories about things like truth, judgment, and perseverance. Stories about solving problems. Stories about making decisions. Stories about fucking up and carrying on afterwards. Stories that treat self-possession as the hard work that it is.

I’m curious about what comes afterwards. Already I find myself itching for a new kind of story, but I’m not sure what. Maybe I’ll go back to needing the horror of powerlessness. Maybe I’ll find religion (the wonder of powerlessness). Maybe I’ll go full nihilism, or full hedonism. When I look at the next fifteen years of my life, I see work, but what stories does one need for that? Stories that explore the ideas that you want to explore yourself? It feels open-ended, in a way. For all that I’ve done all this talk about relating to stories, I’ve never actually explicitly gone looking for stories to relate to and identify with. That’s why I wrote this, really. It’s easy to see why I (or anyone) would be drawn to stories about people who looked me, or had the same experiences as me; less easy to see the deeper, more abstract concerns that speak to what one is preoccupied with. But even given that I’ve never had a very identitarian approach to art, I find myself caring less about relatability than ever. And maybe that’s a phase of development too. The phase at which you don’t so much need to process yourself as focus yourself. The phase at which your ego is secure enough that you can let your ego go, and be curious about other things.

#posts: art #posts: not-art #books: ender's game #books: animorphs #tv: farscape

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twilightvolt · 4 years

Photo

And so, another year has come to pass.....almost. ^ ^

Remember when i said i was branching away from Digimon back when i drew up Venom fanart? y’know, “I wanted to be more than what i used to be.” that being “a Digimon artist.”

2019 was basically just that. lots and lots and LOTS of fandom hopping.

If last year was me recovering from the pain and crippling anxiety of 2017, then this year was me finally getting up again, learning to stand up and live for myself rather than in fear of those i shouldn’t care about anymore. life still hasn’t been too kind to me even though, compared to last year, we’re in a better space. but i’ll get into more detail about that while i go through everything month by month on the clock.

Before we begin, if you’d like to see the previous years, here’s the links!

2018:https://twilightvolt.tumblr.com/post/181732950569/i-kinda-was-saving-this-for-when-i-had-the-time-to

2017:https://twilightvolt.tumblr.com/post/171806337539/a-3-month-late-art-summary-featuring-art-that-i

Might wanna grab your popcorn, my dudes. this is a long one.

January: On the Web

Coming out of 2018, things were pretty ok if i remember. i don’t remember much from this month aside from a few doodles i did like this one from when Spiderverse was the hottest thing. this was one of the last things i drew in my old style. before i decided to officially change things up in the next month.

February: Gotta Kick it Up

Pokemon Sword & Shield were announced and things were hype! oh, how things soured as the months went by. lol

But yeah, this was me taking that experimental sketchy pencil style from that Smash Bros. drawing and rolling with it all the way! it’s become my new go-to style and even though it’s still hella sketchy at times, i feel like it looks better in comparison to my old ink outlined drawings.

March: The Overdrive Dweebanoids

Oh right. my old Ben 10 phase that lasted for a millisecond in 2016 returned with a vengeance. and it was glorious. lmao

It spawned an AU that i didn’t delve into much, but if i ever get that spark for my favorite alien watch bearer, i’ll get back to it.

April: True Blue Lizard Bois

My Ben 10 streak continues and i was crankin’ out art left and right for it. i luved all the “doodle dumps” i made, but this drawing was wholesome and i picked it because of that.

To some extent, this could be a comparison between my past and my present. that being Overdrive!Ben being what, at the time, was my current obsession while Digimon!Vivi was a representation of where i used to be, back when i was starting out and entering Digimon OCTs on Deviantart.

May: Return to the Realm of Sleep ~HD ReMIX

Now THIS i feel was one of the grandest drawings i’ve done this year. hell, i even made a wallpaper out of it.

like, it was just a redraw of an old drawing from 2017. but to me, it was a way to tell me just how far i’ve come since then. and i couldn’t be happier.

This was also the month i rebooted my DA after a long time of inactivity!

....Iiiit didn’t really work much, but i’m still working on it. though i highly doubt it’s worth it considering most of the ones i used to hang with there are either people i don’t wanna associate with or people who left while i was gone. seriously, it’s a ghost town there.

June: Art Fight 2019 ~Dreams Vs. Nightmares~

Ahh, my second year of Art Fight. for this year’s event, i wanted to be a tad more grandiose. like drawing up this banner. i like being extra and stuff even if it kills my drawing hand, so yeah. lmao

...

Florida thunderstorms are friggin’ terrifying. idk HOW anyone can get used to that.

July: - BREAK DOWN -

Oookay, it was hard picking my favorite attack this year cuz i pretty much was satisfied with all of them. but i had to go with this attack because the artist i drew it for was someone i really admired for years and i’m just happy i could finally have an opportunity to draw them something. like, i luv how it came out, so yeah.

This was also the month i forced myself to finally do the thing and let go of the constant fear i felt towards certain people i used to hang with. while remembering 2017 will never NOT hurt, i can’t let that fear rule over me forever. i have to take control and not let it stop me from doing what i want. and that’s exactly what i did.

August: Ricky ~Sapphire, Emerald and AlphaSapphire

Oh yeah! after Art Fight ended, i returned to Pokemon randomly cuz i wanted to go back to my roots for a moment. revamping Ricky, formerly Ragna, and Yagami was something i’ve been meaning to do for awhile and it reignited a waning love for a series i started growing distant towards since Gen VII.

I used to really like Ricky’s old design even though i barely ever used him. but i guess this just shows how much more original i’ve gotten in terms of character design. ^ ^

September: Heartbeat Inferno

Now, i haven’t really talked much about what’s been going on life wise for most of this post, but trust me when i say irl, things weren’t really.....happening. like, it’s hard when you live (or rather, lived now) in a place with little job opportunity and you have NO experience whatsoever. the lack of progression must’ve hit something in me, so the week i drew this was me just....shifting moods, feeling everything at once. one day i’d be agitated as hell, the next i’d be so depressed i took a some odd hour nap and didn’t wanna get out of bed. like, for most of this year, i haven’t felt this stressed out and frustrated with myself. so this sudden crash was kind of....unwelcome.

But this drawing was a fresh change though, if i’m being honest. i’m not usually this uncaring about how clean the coloring job is, but i like it! i’d choose that other drawing i did for my friends’ birthdays, Skirmish at the Cable Club, but this one had a more personal drive behind it.

October: - PAPERMOON -

beastarsbeastarsbeASTARSBEASTARS--*COUGH COUGH AHEM* I MEAN....hai. :D

Continuing with my Pokemon shenanigans, i drew this big piece which was something i had in my head for years now, but never actually acted upon it cuz i always felt it was too big of an idea to work on. i’m happy i’ve managed to capture what i envisioned originally.

As for interests, i’m sure most of my current followers can deduce that i quickly shifted gears to Beastars as soon as the anime was released and so far, i regret nothing. it’s spawned a metric butt ton of new art from me and the way i see it, this phase ain’t stopping as long as this series continues. brace yourselves fam, i believe i’ve finally found the successor to my Digimon phase. lmao

Like, damn, i had a tough time choosing art for this month. i was stuck between this, - SMILE/WILD SIDE - and Slip Into Madness. so many good drawings i was satisfied with, y’know?

November: The Future is Now

I was SO planning on putting something else here, but then suddenly i just kinda had this urge to redraw that uggo gouache painting of Miyagi from highschool. and it turned out so good that i had to. like, really. lmao

As with the redraw of Dream Drop Digital’s key art, it was a reminder of how far i’ve come since then art wise. and i feel like i’ve accomplished so much this year because of it. ;w;

December: Winter Lights

And now we’re back to the present time. after over a year or so of living in Florida, we’ve moved once again back up north a bit. yet another clean slate, but things seem to be looking up despite the rather large bumps in the road the past week or so. lately i’ve been feeling that seasonal depression starting to set in, but i think i’ll be fine as long as i stay positive. cuz y’know, it’s not being happy all the time. it’s just knowing that things will get better someday.

One of the other reasons i drew this drawing was cuz i REALLY wanted to have something Beastars related on this clock. this series (and Legoshi in particular) really inspired me, so i had to leave a wedge open for my boi.

Looking back at the beginning of this decade (as 2020 would mark the next one), i realized that the 2010′s were basically me becoming more artsy. finding enjoyment for a new hobby that quickly became something i’m now more passionate about than video games which i didn’t think would EVER be the case.

Funny enough, it all started in the RP section of a little forum for an MMO called Wizard101. i was only in middle school at the time and, to tell you the truth, i had no idea i’d be going at it for this long. thought i’d just do it on the side but not really delve into the art world more.

But despite all the trips and falls, fandom drama or otherwise, i wouldn’t change anything if it meant i wouldn’t have the friends who’ve stuck by me in the aftermath of those times.

I may not be really succeeding in much, but it’s the small steps in life that matter most in the end. these past few months in particular was me getting fed up with feeling sorry for myself for not doing the things i was interested in in the past, getting over my regret and making plans for starting something new even though i know i’ll suck at first and not worrying so much about how others might perceive me.

And just like how life was changing for our resident grey wolf this first season, mine seems to be doing the same. and i believe this decade ended on a better note than i thought it would during the past couple years leading up to this.

Here’s to a new decade! ^ ^

~ For a future I want to believe in. ~

#art meme #summary of art #2019 summary of art #year end reflections #2010's reflections #rambles

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