#Maybe I’ll compile a song for every character later to make up for it. Don’t count on it though that will take a while.

[hrokkall]

-🥊

Hi 🥊 Anon. Long time no see (I don’t actually think it’s been that long, but hey.)

Favorite thing about them: I wouldn’t say this is my favorite thing about it, but genuinely one of the funniest scenes in the Hex is when it’s inexplicably in video game jail. The answer to that is “Irving is an asshole” obviously, but the juxtaposition of Training Dummy next to an alligator, a giant dragon, a giant radioactive snake-worm, and Sado was a punch to the face. Free training dummy it did nothing wrong.

Least favorite thing about them: There’s nothing to dislike here. If you’re not a Training Dummy fan I don’t want you on this blog (I’m joking, but Training Dummy is… weirdly relevant here.)

Favorite line:

“…”

brOTP: Okay it started as a joke at first but the wizard pupils being inexplicably attached to the training dummy they’ve been using to practice spells on is hilarious to me. “Sorry I cast fireball on you yesterday. I was really excited to see that it worked but then when I thought about it I felt kind of bad… can I… um… sew that back together?” it’s like the wizard school equivalent of a stuffed animal that sits on top of the whiteboard that the entire classroom full of 19-26 year olds immediately deems the class mascot.

OTP: ???????

nOTP: See above.

Random headcanon: I know for a fact this is stolen from you but the concept of every game made using the Gameworks Engine having the Training Dummy somewhere in-game is hilarious to me. It’s like the video game equivalent of the Wilhelm scream. Every game designer HATES seeing it in the final game because it RUINS immersion most of the time but that just makes programmers even more tempted to sneak it in somewhere as a sort of game development inside joke. Having said that, from an in-character point of view this either means multiple training dummies or multiple reassignments so good luck to this guy either way.

Unpopular opinion: I was going to jokingly say Training Dummy should have been a talking card but I quickly realized that probably wouldn’t work. I don’t even know if the Training Dummy would have the required level of sentience to be inscrybed as anything other than a terrain card. As funny as it would be if it was secretly a person I’m pretty sure it’s Literally Just A Mannequin (maybe not? It does have custom inner dialogue when you challenge it with an invalid deck but it’s really unclear whether that’s meant to imply the Training Dummy is a person or if it was just for the bit). Sorry buddy </3

Song I associate with them: I was going to delete this section but you know what, I’ll add one for the bit. We’ll go with Tubthumping by Chumbawamba. I get knocked down but I get up again. You know the one.

Favorite picture of them: I like its Inscryption sprite best personally; the Hex gives it more detail but the Inscryption sprite just has a certain charm to it (plus, it gets a sword. Hell yeah)

#Re: Inbox #🥊 Anon #Ask meme #I was going to do a training dummy one ahead of time in preparation for this ask but I forgot #The real question is why did I add a joke song for this one but not a song for others. Whoops. #Maybe I’ll compile a song for every character later to make up for it. Don’t count on it though that will take a while.

[queenimmadolla]

This isnt a question about the book but i was wondering, how do you get yourself into a writing flow?

I started my blog in a bad headspace and continuously visit it in that headspace that i dont know how to get out of

My writing is coming out seriously unreadable and i know im a good writer but i can barely verbalize myself and its just coming out as spewage on paper

I understand my problem but i was just curious if you have general tips on what helps you to get into that natural flow xx

I know what you mean. I started this blog when I was in a really bad space mentally, physically, and emotionally, and all I wanted to do was escape into Hawkins (ironic since most people write about their characters wanting to leave it) so I’d write A LOT. Like I was popping these fics out. It was the only time I didn’t have to be hella high—most of the time—to calm my raging anxiety and thoughts (though I was plenty high during this period of my life, but I didn’t have to be high to write about Eddie, like I did to function as a human being).

Now, with the environment here and things as they are, I kinda resorted to getting high again to find enjoyment in posting and being here, and I also get high to write. BUT. I’m trying to break that. And it’s kind of working so I’ll share:

I love ST4 but I do not have the time to constantly rewatch it. So I look up a compilation of Eddie’s scenes on YouTube, and it works every time. Seeing him, hearing him drags me right back in when I’m sure I’ve lost motivation/muse/what you will. And playlists, create a little soundtrack for your story, imagine it like a movie! What’s playing in the background of this scene? Does the entire fic carry the vibe of a song I’ll gladly listen to on loop until the end for? And I’m a maladaptive dreamer, babe. I fantasize and daydream the whole time I’m writing, really helps me get everything down when I feel like i’m watching it play out in front of me.

And don’t beat yourself up about how it’s reading, if it doesn’t read like what you usually write. Sometimes you just have to get what you have out of your head out on a doc. And you might not like how it reads, but plenty of others will. (I say this like I don’t have over 50+ things I’ve written and haven’t posted bc I didn’t like them lol) That’s not to say that you can’t revisit the work later when you feel like you can make some improvements to it! (Hence why I answer requests like 7 months later, sorry guys!!!)

And maybe the spewing is your style! There’s nothing wrong with that, there’s so many different styles of writing and a lot of my friends and people I admire come up with the most AMAZING SHAKESPEAREAN works, while I kind of just write how I talk and think and you can kind of make out the movie period that had the most effect on me from it, lol. And there’s nothing wrong with that or either because both are good! There’s SO MANY MORE than just those two types, btw. So many. And that’s the best thing about writing and sharing what you write, embracing this differences and perspectives is so refreshing and joyous. My style changes quite a bit, though. It used to upset me but I stopped fighting it and just started rolling with it. And people seem to like it. Me included. Hope this helps a little, and drop me a link when you post!!!!

If anyone else has some advice, please add to our discussion!

#$ replies #agony aunt viv lol

[wonjaekook]

Residual Starshine

Pairing:  Soccer player!Yuta x fem!reader

Description: You’ve experienced plenty of irritations in your life. For better or for worse, none of them are quite like Nakamoto Yuta.

Word Count: 19.3k

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers ; fluff, smut, touch of angst

Warnings: my first published full blown smut scene (only one towards the end, nothing crazy), sexual references?, swearing, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Mingyu appears as a somewhat bad character in this, but I absolutely don’t think of him that way. As always, this is entirely fictional. If you want one song to vibe to while reading this, I was listening to Everybody Talks by Neon Trees a lot :-) this is the longest fic I’ve ever written and the first one containing smut that I’ve ever published, so please let me know what you thought!

Taglist: @junglewoos​ @insomni-writing​ @neowritingsnet​

This is my contribution to @/leesmrk’s sports collab, but she deactivated (Dee I miss you) so @lucas-wongs​ has compiled the masterlist in her stead! The link to the master post with all other submissions is in my masterlist.

You didn’t expect to be spending your first morning before classes with your face smashed into your pillow, pressing the cotton over your ears. Yesterday morning had been perfectly lovely - you slept a solid eight hours and you only awoke to the beautiful morning sunshine greeting you through your blinds.  All things considered, it was a very natural wake-up. However, the loud J-rock blaring through the floor from the apartment below you is the exact opposite of natural. Perhaps the music isn’t as loud as you perceive it to be, but you happen to take things quite personally when you’re woken up an hour early.

Except, you don’t take it personally enough that you force your body out of bed. Instead, you allow yourself to let out a loud groan of annoyance before you pull your covers over your head. Thankfully, the music shuts off about five minutes later and you drift back off to sleep.

When you awaken again an hour later, the sunlight coming into your room doesn’t seem nearly as friendly as it did yesterday. Still, this time you do force yourself to get up. You go through your usual routine - bathroom, change into your running clothes, and stretch. You hear no sounds of any stirring from your roommates as you get ready. It’s somewhat of a relief to have the apartment to yourself in the morning. You put your headphones in and step out of the apartment, trying to get yourself in the zone with your workout playlist while also doing a quick look around to see if anyone is out. One set of stairs and you’re at the door leading out of the small complex - a building with four apartments, two on the first floor and two on the second floor. Outside on the step leading to the sidewalk and there’s still no one around. Without a second of hesitation more, you’re off at a light jog. Half of the apartments in this area of your campus are dedicated to student athletes and there’s nothing you dread more than running, quite literally, into someone who’s by far your superior at this activity and who would judge you. As you run, the thought of your lower neighbor comes to you. You wake up early to go run - but they woke up earlier. At that thought, a frown subconsciously makes its way to your face. Shooting a quick prayer to the heavens that you don’t run into anyone, you continue on.

Though you hadn’t started running until this summer, you know your campus well enough in the years you’ve been here to find a nice path. That also means that, when you see pairs of runners ahead of you, you can make unexpected turns to avoid passing them. At one point, you veer out of the way of a pack of people who you assume is the running club. About forty five minutes later, you’re sweaty and more physically exhausted than when you had left, but the energy thrumming in your veins leaves you with a deep sense of satisfaction. You had successfully avoided every person you had come across on your run and-

You nearly open the door of your complex into one of your neighbors. Acting on reflex, you step back and dip your head, avoiding looking at him. “Oh, sorry.”

“That’s alright.” His voice is a smooth rumble and you look up, briefly forgetting about your sweaty and near-unpresentable state. He looks freshly showered, his skin smooth and just slightly sunkissed. Based on his physique, you would have guessed that he’s a student athlete, but his hair seems a little too long to match the stereotype. It’s a bit of a mane, a dark mop sitting atop the throne of his handsome face, and you think it suits him. As your eyes drift from his hair to his eyes to his nose and finally to his mouth, which has been set into the crooked angle of a smirk, it dawns on you that you’re checking him out very openly. Your face, already warm from exercise, turns blazing hot. After all of the hard work you went through to avoid embarrassing yourself this morning… “You’re cute, too, don’t worry.”

Several very intrusive thoughts come to you at once. By his very specific phrasing, he thinks you’re attractive. He also knows he’s attractive. The warmth of the complement fades to indignation at his cockiness. You press your mouth into a thin line and lower your head again, not making eye contact with him as you slip past him through the door. You’re not sure if his gaze follows you as you march back up the stairs to your apartment.

“One of our neighbors is a total ass!”

One of your roommates, Sowon, is lounging on your sofa as you sit at the small table in your shared living room, grinding the pen in your hand into your planner in frustration. It’s well into the afternoon now, the sun casting lines of shadows through your blinds, and you’re still hung up on what happened earlier. Sowon is also perfectly aware that you’re exaggerating, but she encourages you to continue. “The soccer neighbors or the volleyball neighbors?”

“Of course it’s one of the soccer neighbors! The volleyball neighbors would never do this to me.” You huff, eying the nearly empty container of cookies on the table.

“You’re aware that Johnny just brought those over so he had an excuse to hit on Yein, right?” Sowon releases a strand of hair that she had just idly wrapped around a finger, watching it twirl in the air. Your second roommate only sighs at the mention of her name, but doesn’t deny it.

“And Doyoung was the one who actually made them. So, by association, I am entitled to an equal share of cookies.” You consider Doyoung a friend - you shared a chemistry class with him once and he seemed to tolerate your presence, even enjoy it at times. He even sends you the occasional text still. “That doesn’t mean Yein isn’t going to be the one to give the container back, though.”

Yein frowns and opens her mouth but Sowon raises a finger to stop her. “Y/N is correct.”

With a shake of her head, Yein turns her attention back to you. “You were talking about the soccer neighbor?”

After you explain the situation as truthfully and dramatically as possible to them, they look at each other once before looking back at you. Sowon speaks first. “He’s definitely flirting.”

“Or he’s just like that naturally.” Yein counters. “Who flirts at eight in the morning?”

“You’d be surprised.” After you say that, her words sink in. You ran into him at eight in the morning, when he was looking refreshed. He’s a member of the soccer team, meaning he probably exercises in the morning. He also has pretty stereotypical rocker hair. “Holy shit, he’s the asshole who was blasting J-rock through the floor this morning!”

“Okay, never mind. He is a jerk.” Sowon wrinkles her nose.

“Was it at least good J-rock?” Yein prods.

You shrug. “It was alright, I guess. But that’s besides the point!” You slam your planner closed. “I’m giving him a piece of my mind the next time I see him.”

For several days, as classes start, you still get in your morning run and, each day, without fail, you’re woken up by the boy’s J-rock about an hour early. You fail to catch him at any time of the day until, finally, you’re on your way out of the apartment one morning. As you pull open the door, you nearly ram into him once again, though the situation is reversed. He’s the one who’s sweaty and warm, headphones firmly in his ears. That changes as he smirks, popping them out at the sight of you in the door. “So, we meet again.”

“Uh-huh.” You take the position of a displeased mother about to lecture a child, your arms crossed over your chest as you block the door. “You know, I have words for you.”

“Wow, already? People usually don’t have words for me until at least the third time we’ve met. Well, at least not more than a few choice ones like-”

You cut him off before he can inflate his own ego more. “Stop playing music so loud at six in the morning.”

He tilts his head like he’s confused, but the way his lips are quirked up tells you that he knows exactly what you’re talking about. “Baseless accusations. Maybe you should take this up with Jaehyun or Kun. I would never do such a thing.”

“Come on. I know it’s you.” The look you give him is entirely unamused, so he relents slightly, the smile falling from his face.

“What are you gonna do, report me to housing?” Before you can reply that, yes, that’s exactly what you’ll do, he continues. “I’ll tell them about the parties you and your roommates have. I’m sure they’d love coming out here at 3 AM one day just to tell you to keep it down. Almost as much as they’d love to come to my door at 6 to do the same.”

He starts walking towards the door and you turn your body inward, allowing him passage while silently fuming. “You-”

“My name is Nakamoto Yuta. You can say that if you need something to scream.” He gifts you a sly wink as he unlocks his door and lets himself in, leaving you so bewildered that you can’t think of a response at all.

“Stop messing with the soccer boys.” Sowon immediately reprimands you after you recount what happened. “You know the school will punish us before they punish them.”

“Yeah, and if this is your way of flirting, you need to think of something better.” Yein adds from the connected kitchen, tossing the stir-fry in her pan. “I’m not risking getting kicked out because you decided to mess with the soccer team’s star player.”

“To be fair, I don’t think he was really upset about the interaction. He seemed amused by my reaction.” You slump down, your forehead resting on the table. “And I didn’t know who he was until he said his name.”

“Well, he doesn’t know who you are-”

“And I don’t want him to.” You cut off Sowon. “I’ll just… deal with it.”

You get one more peaceful morning of running alone before, two days after you had first talked to him, Nakamoto Yuta comes jogging up to you. You don’t hear him at first. Music blares in your earbuds, drowning out most of the background noise of the morning, and your heartbeat in your ears fills out the parts of your internal sound profile that your music doesn’t quite reach. He comes up behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin when you see the figure of another person jogging in your peripherals. Your pace falters, but you immediately try to right yourself and regain momentum, praying he’ll just pass by you without saying anything. Except he doesn’t leave. With an internal sigh, you turn your head towards him. He offers you a grin and air-taps over his ear. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you pull out your headphones. “What?”

“Great morning, isn’t it?”

You contemplate shutting your eyes so that you can purposefully trip and eject yourself from this conversation. “I guess.”

“It’s soccer season. You know that, right?” You narrow your eyes at him, but nod. “Our first game is coming up soon.” You don’t like where this is going. “You should come.” “You must be hard-pressed for attendees to be randomly asking your neighbor to come to your game.” You reach for your earbuds again.

“Hold on, hold on.” You pause, then immediately wonder why you’re even giving him the time of day. Still, you relent for a moment. “If you come to the game this Saturday, I’ll stop playing music so loud when I wake up.”

“If you were a kind and courteous neighbor, you would just do that without having to threaten me to go to one of your games. And,” you state flatly, “I’ve already been to enough soccer games for the rest of my life, thank you very much.”

As you jog away, he doesn’t try to stop you again, but you could swear that he seems the slightest bit disappointed.

The next morning is more of the same as usual. The same loud J-rock that wakes you up an hour early, your same run, your same shower and breakfast and classes. You consider shifting your sleep schedule so that you wake up at the same time as Yuta, though you dismiss the idea because why should you change your lifestyle to adjust for his? You’d rather suffer the early wakeup.

Except, two days after he asks you to come to one of his games, the music stops. That first morning, you wake up at your usual time. You’re prepared to be upset at Yuta waking you early again, but when your foggy morning brain processes that you had woken up to your own alarm and not his music, you lie there confused. When you go out for your run not long after, you almost hope that you’ll run into him. There’s no way he’s just being nice is there? He has to be sick or something. To your disappointment, you don't run into him and you’re just stuck in your confusion. This goes on for three more days and each day you become more perplexed.

As you’re returning to your apartment after your classes that Friday, someone holds the door for you as you approach. “Thanks-” you start, then see who’s holding it for you. “-oh! Jaehyun!”

“Hey, uh, Y/N, right?” You smile at him, nodding firmly. You’re almost surprised that he remembers your name because you’d only chatted once before, back when you were moving in. He’s perfectly polite, almost shy-seeming, and completely different from his roommate. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m just getting back from classes.” Thinking of his roommate… “I was actually wondering, um…” He gives you a confused look, waiting for you to continue. “Is Yuta doing okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Why?” Jaehyun hadn’t been aware that you were at all acquainted with his roommate.

You appear equally as confused as he does. “Oh, I… never mind. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your next game?”

He brightens up at that. “It’s a home game. Tomorrow at six, don’t miss it!”

You return his smile. “Great, thanks, Jaehyun! I’ll see you around?” He sends you off with a wave before you go your separate ways, entering your respective apartments.

Should you actually go to his game? You don’t owe him anything, you never agreed to his deal, but he did stop playing his music so loud. You’re not really doing anything on Saturday either… maybe you’ll bug Sowon and Yein so that they’ll come with you.

That evening, the apartment below yours is particularly busy. All of the soccer boys are home - Yuta, Jaehyun, Kun - and the volleyball and art boys are also over - Johnny, Doyoung, Jungwoo, Taeyong, Ten, and Sicheng. After all, as Johnny says, Friday nights are for the boys. Conversation flows from school to girls to boys to soccer, upon which Jaehyun shares a very interesting observation with his friends.

“By the way, it seems like you have another admirer, Yuta.” Jaehyun says as he takes a swig of his soju, recently acquired from the nearby Korean market and grossly overpriced.

“Sure,” Yuta responds, rolling his eyes, “who would that be?”

“You know that girl from upstairs? Y/N? She asked about you today and then asked me about our next game.”

“We haven’t even had our first game and you’re already collecting fangirls? Come on, Yuta,” Kun chimes in this time, breaking away from his conversation with Sicheng about their shared organic chemistry class.

“That can’t be right,” Yuta says, leaning back into the couch, “L/N Y/N? I’m pretty sure she hates my guts. I tried to make a deal with her to get her to come to the game and she just brushed me off.”

Doyoung narrows his eyes at his friend. “Y/N doesn’t just hate people for no reason. What did you do?”

Yuta raises his hands defensively and half-glares at him. “I didn’t do anything! I was just being myself and she decided to hate me.”

“The star-player, cocky version of yourself or the normal version of yourself?” Doyoung says, looking entirely unamused.

Yuta thinks back to all of the encounters he’s had with you and cringes slightly. “Listen, she was the one who was checking me out first-”

“Stupid.” Doyoung shakes his head before taking a sip of the water he’s drinking. “Some people take well to forwardness, but not her.”

“Are you sure? Because if she’s asked after me, I think that means she likes it.”

“I am going to spike a ball into your head, you-”

“Guys, calm down,” Sicheng says with a rather flat tone. Instantly, the two bickering boys stop, resorting to glaring at each other. Jaehyun gently shoves his roommate to get his attention and the room quickly returns to normal. Later, Doyoung passes Yuta a new bottle once his has run out, so he knows that the younger was never truly angry at him. The small party doesn’t go long into the night - tomorrow’s the first game of the season, after all - and, surprisingly, there isn’t much noise from their upstairs neighbor either.

That is mostly thanks to you. You had convinced your two party-addicted friends to attend someone else’s get together instead of hosting their own, so you ushered them out of the house at around ten in the evening. You know that they’ll come back fine in a few hours, rumpled and with their makeup half sweated off, buzzing with alcohol and the blaring music of whatever houseparty they were invited to, but you still tell them that your phone will be off of silent in case they need anything. Previous semesters, you might have gone with them, but, now, you just want to sleep so you can wake up early and go on your usual run.

The morning comes with your sleep uninterrupted by your roommates. After you awaken, instead of lying in bed and contemplating life for a while, you drag yourself up and to their rooms, where you find each of them peacefully asleep in their beds. Yein bothered to change out of her party clothes and into pajamas while Sowon didn’t, her dress half off of her shoulder and bunched up under her butt. Both of them are snoring away, hugging pillows and blankets.

The relief of seeing your roommates in good condition adds a spring to your step. A few minutes later, after you’ve stretched on the floor of your bedroom, you’re halfway out the outside door of the complex when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You know who it is even before you turn around.

“Y/N,” Yuta says, grinning much too brightly for how early it is. He doesn’t seem like he’s been out yet, which is strange. “Good morning.”

“Is it?” You lift an eyebrow.

“Perfectly!” As he talks, you begin to move farther out the door. Down one step. Down two steps. On the sidewalk. “Do you want to run together?”

“Shouldn’t you be just coming back from doing that?” You pull out your phone.

He quickly matches his stride to yours. “I decided to start running an hour later on the weekends. You know, sleep in a bit since I have the time.”

“I’m happy for you.” You select a song and put one ear of your headphones in.

“Are you coming tonight?”

“Didn’t I already answer that?” In all honesty, you feel like you should be more irritated with him than you actually are. He’s at least amusing to talk to. Plus, he stopped waking you up an hour early without you even promising to come to his game.

“Yeah, but then you asked Jaehyun about it.”

You stop moving, turning to look at him. He has another one of those infuriating smirks on his face and all of your previous enjoyment flies out the window. “Maybe I’m a huge fan of his.”

“What position does he play?”

“I don’t have to answer that!” Now, your face is already warming and you haven’t even begun your exercise. You turn away from him again and begin to slowly jog. “Bye, Yuta.”

“He’s a midfielder! And I’m a forward! You can see today at the game!” He calls after you as you get farther away, his voice getting more distant. Part of you feels bad for your neighbors - the windows aren’t exactly soundproof. You just wave a hand back at him in dismissal. A minute later, you look behind you. To your great relief, and mild surprise, he isn’t following you. He went the complete opposite direction.

“Will you guys please come with me? I promise some of the guys on the team are hot.” You tug on Sowon’s sleeve like a child does to their mother when they want something.

“I thought you hated college soccer because of your brother.” She flips a page in her textbook, scribbling down something in her notes.

“I don’t think this one will be so bad. Our team is supposed to be really good this year, right?” You look hopefully at her.

“How am I supposed to know? How is anyone supposed to know? Today is their first game.” She stops attempting to study, looking at you. “Also, I’m messing around. I’ll go with you.”

You look at your other roommate, who is in the middle of the very exhaustive task of sitting on your sofa and scrolling through her phone. She gives you a thumbs up. “As long as I can put on face paint!”

A couple hours later, you find yourselves in the bleachers surrounding the soccer field. It’s a modest stadium, not a stadium at all but just a normal soccer field with bleachers on either side and some decently sized flood lights for night usage. Not too far away is a moderately sized building that is a shared locker room space for all of the school’s athletic teams. Your school never invested much of its funds into soccer until recently, largely thanks to Yuta and some of the other members who are in their third or fourth year playing who made a name for your university in the sport. You also suspect that they probably talked the ear off of the provost so that he finally agreed to give them more funding, but that’s just a personal guess.

From your place on the home side of the bleachers, you have total vision of the field. Both teams are running warm-up drills and it’s easy enough to spot the people you know: someone from your physics class named Mingyu, someone you remember from a party named Baekho, and your lower neighbors, Jaehyun, Kun, and, of course, Yuta. His hair is pulled back from his face in a small ponytail at the back of his head and a small version of your university’s lion mascot stands out proudly on his red jersey.

You purposefully make a point to look for him last, only to find that he’s completely focused. Though it’s just shooting drills, he seems like he’s entirely in the zone, his eyes sharp and calculated. From what you can tell. The physical distance between you isn’t huge, but you can’t read his expressions that well from this angle.

The sharp scream of a whistle being blown indicates that there’s five minutes until the start of the game. The teams both do a bit of last minute stretching as they gather around the coach, a man you recognize as a biology professor. Finally, just as the clock hits six, they squeeze closer together, arms slung over each others’ shoulders in a tight circle, and do some sort of indistinct chant that ends in something like “Go Lions!”

After they break away, you can see the shift in atmosphere. Everyone is completely serious. It’s the first game of the season and they aren’t going to destroy the reputation they’ve built up for the last three years. You watch as Jaehyun moves to his position as a midfielder, Kun moves to his position as defense, and Yuta lines up in the position of forward center. A coin flip gives the kick-off to the away team, a school with a hawk mascot. Everyone shifts slightly on their feet and, for a moment, the world seems to be silent. The crowd leans forward in their seats.

Then, the whistle is blown.

The game gets to a roaring start. From how cautiously the other team is playing, they seem to know the reputation of the Lions - a team that shot up out of nowhere and suddenly has one of the best forwards in college soccer. You find yourself grinning as the ball barely makes it past your team’s defensive midfielder Mingyu before it’s in the Lions’ metaphorical hands. Your midfielders carefully juggle the ball between them, passing and passing and passing, before it reaches Jaehyun at center midfield. He does his job quickly and efficiently, making it almost look easy, and the ball meets the half-tip. From there, the ball is stolen by one of the Hawks’ defense at a failed pass to the second striker, Baekho. The ball shoots all the way to midfield.

For a few tense minutes, you watch the players run back and forth across the field, their eyes never leaving the target. The game pauses every so often when the ball gets kicked out of bounds, but it always resumes with just as much vigor. About a quarter of the way through the game, Yuta finally has his breakthrough. Jaehyun lands a kick directly in his direction, giving him the perfect opportunity. The strike is clean and so fast that you would have missed it if your eyes weren’t glued to the movements of the ball. All of the people on your side of the bleachers launch to their feet in roaring cheers as the ball sails past the opponent goalie’s right side and into the net. You’re standing alongside everyone else, your hands cupped around your mouth as you yell in excitement. It’s not often that you see such a well done shot from a college team.

The boil of the crowd’s blood dies down a bit as the game continues, but soars back up whenever something particularly exciting happens. In the third quarter, the Hawks manage to land a goal on your team, but Yuta comes in clutch a few minutes later and scores two easy goals almost one after the other. The final score is deeply satisfying at 3:1.

The opposing team try to be good sports about it, but they’re obviously sulking when they shake your team’s hands. After they break away, they’re all gloriously sweaty, which you’re sure Sowon is excited about. Some of the spectators immediately rush out of the stands and make their way down, friends and significant others of the players, you presume. Part of you wants to go down there and be a part of the excitement. Luckily enough, a distraction comes in the form of some of your other neighbors before you’re forced to make any decisions.

“Hey, Yein, Sowon, Y/N!”

When you turn, you see Johnny and Doyoung approaching. Yein stiffens slightly and you nearly start laughing at your friend’s embarrassed behavior. Sowon greets them first. “Hi, guys.”

“I didn’t know you guys were into soccer?” Johnny asks, his eyes shifting easily from Sowon to you to Yein, where they remain.

“Not really! But Y/N wanted to go today.” In her nervousness, Yein easily exposes you.

“I wasn’t the only one who wanted to go,” you huff, crossing your arms. Doyoung and Johnny exchange a look that makes you want to change the subject. “I guess you guys are here to support some friends?”

“Yup, Yuta, Kun, and Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, looking towards the field, where some of their other friends are already gathered around the star player. “They played really well. It’ll be a good season.”

“I hope so,” Sowon says, also watching.

“Well, we don’t want to keep you guys from them,” you say, wanting to eject yourself from the conversation before it turns in a different direction. To your displeasure, Johnny is a master of knowing exactly what you don’t want and then doing it anyways. You’ve never really talked to him before, but it seems that he’s similar to Yuta in that way.

“Why don’t we all go say hi?” The tall boy says, grinning. “You guys can tell me how those cookies were, too.”

There is no escape. Now, as you follow them down the bleachers, you reflect Yein in a way. She no longer looks quite as nervous, eagerly chatting with Johnny, while you grow increasingly more fidgety. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to Yuta. You just don’t want to give in to whatever game the two of you silently decided you were playing.

Then again, it is much more fun to play along than it is to outright reject him. Plus, today’s actual game was good. You’ll give him that.

Trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, you join the small crowd surrounding Yuta. If you thought he glowed normally, he absolutely shines now. There’s something about him being in his element at the very top of his game that makes you forget your irritation with him for a moment. In that instant, he’s a star. In that instant, he reminds you of your brother. Then, he spots you and opens his mouth.

“Y/N!” As he calls out to you, the girl he was talking to before you arrived seems perturbed, but he ignores her, pushing his way closer to you. “You actually came.”

You turn your nose up at him slightly. “No one ever said it was for you.”

“Of course not. You and I both know the truth, though.” The wink is nowhere near subtle or sly and you scoff at him. He seems unbothered. “This was your first Lions game, right? Did you enjoy it?”

You nod hesitantly. “I heard you guys were good, but I didn’t know how good. You played a near perfect game.”

The self-satisfied smile drops from his face. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“What do you mean?” Tilting your head, you match his somewhat grim face.

“There’s always better plays to make, better places to have been. You know.” He quickly tries to play it off like he’s uninterested rather than deeply bothered. You’re not sure you know what the truth is. You haven’t talked to him nearly enough to know. This is the first hint of something serious that he’s shown you. It almost makes you want to talk to him more to find out.

“Dude, shut up, you’re good.” From the side, Johnny butts in, elbowing his friend. You’re glad for the interruption, as you once again didn’t know what to say. The mood raises, with some of Yuta’s friends reenacting the best parts of the game, joking about his long hair, betting on what next week’s game will look like. A few minutes later, the Lions’ coach shouts for all of the team members to go shower and get changed, so the crowd slowly disperses.

After you’re alone with your roommates, Sowon and Yein can’t help but give you playful shoves as you walk home. Sowon is the first to verbalize her amusement. “I thought you hated him?”

You grumble under your breath, not saying anything in particular.

“You played a near perfect game.” Yein mimics, making your face burn.

“I do not sound like that! Also, I know a good game when I see one and I know when to admit it!” You kick your shoe against the pavement as they giggle at you.

From then on, it seems like you run into Yuta far too often for your own good. Every few days, you bump into him when you’re either about to go run or when you’re coming back from running. When you go with Yein to return Johnny’s cookie container, Yuta is in his apartment, lounging on the sofa and chatting with Jungwoo, your third volleyball neighbor. Once, when you’re studying at the school library because you need a change of scenery from your apartment, he runs into you. That time, you snap at him.

“Are you stalking me or something?”

He places a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended.  “What do you mean? If anything you’re the one stalking me. I come here every Thursday after practice to study.” He huffs. “If you’re talking about when I was in Johnny’s apartment, I was already there before you even arrived. Unless you’re accusing me of being psychic, too.”

Your shoulders slowly lower at the guilt you feel. Cringing slightly, you raise your hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to imply…” You sigh. “Sorry. Can I buy you a coffee or something to apologize?”

Only after Yuta’s mock hurt shifts to a triumphant look do you realize the implications of your words. You’re really on a roll with implications today. He grins. “If you really want to.”

As you pack up your things, Yuta tells the few teammates he had come to study with that he’s going, and you walk out of the library side by side. Luckily, he actually makes for easy conversation and good company. You don’t know why he insists on the flirting and cockiness in your shorter interactions. As you walk to the campus coffee shop, you learn that he’s a studio art major. He learns that you’re a physical therapy major. You learn that he’s taking a statistics class that you had already previously taken - he put it off while you got it done in your first year - and, without thinking, you offer to help him if he needs it. After you order both of your coffees, finding out that he likes a lighter roast, you sit at a table in the shop with him. Silence comes and goes as both of you do some of the studying that you intended to do at the library. Every so often, he asks you a question. Usually, you answer him. You always return with a question of your own. You find out that his favorite of the bands that he used to blast through the floor is One Ok Rock.

“Sorry,” he finally says, appearing genuinely remorseful with the sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t have upstairs neighbors last year. I didn’t know you could hear it through the floor.”

“It’s fine. Sorry I snapped at you back then.”

It’s very strange to be on perfectly good terms with Nakamoto Yuta.

A few days later, when your brother sends you a ticket for the local professional soccer team, the Ravens, you almost feel like you should ask for a second so you can bring Yuta. Figuring it would be too much to ask, you plan to go by yourself, thankful that the game falls on a day the Lions aren’t playing. Plus, you can’t imagine what your roommates would say if you chose to go out of your way to take him with you.

You’ve taken to hanging out with the long-haired center forward, helping him with his math when he needs it and just… generally enjoying his company. That doesn’t mean you’re all sugar and smiles to him - it’s much more fun to mess around a little, make him think that you don’t like him quite as much as you actually do. The only thing you can think of that would personally offend him would be to say you’re going to one of his games and then failing to do so.

On the bus ride over to the stadium where the Ravens are playing, you’re thankful that you don’t recognize anyone from your school. You’re in the team’s colors, silver and forest green, and it would be clear to anyone where you’re going. Only after you get off of the bus do you realize just how many came to watch. The stadium is full, packed to almost capacity. That’s probably why your brother hadn’t gotten you tickets earlier - all of them were taken. He probably gave tickets to the earlier games to your parents. They would have thrown a fit if he had only invited you earlier, even if you are his favorite.

As you make your way to your seat, you remark on how strange it is to see your last name printed on the backs of the shirts of a bunch of strangers. The vibe of the crowd is completely different from that at your school’s field. While college students are excitable and energetic, these spectators are rabid. At any moment, there’s one hundred people yelling, someone trying to start a chant, someone screaming just for the sake of it. The air is buzzing with the anticipation of the crowd.

There’s a moment of sudden thick silence, like the moment before a dam is about to burst, where the crowd is silent. Then, both teams are stepping out onto the field and the stadium explodes. In the middle of the line of the eleven Ravens players, like he’s trying to blend in even though half of the crowd is chanting his name, is your brother. There’s a coin flip and it’s decided that the Ravens will start. He gets into his position, forward center, and the audience takes another breath.

You’re on the edge of your seat. Half of the game you’re standing. There’s a thrill about the experience that makes you so invigorated and proud beyond belief. If it had been strange seeing your last name on the backs of fans’ jerseys, it’s just as weird hearing the announcer say your brother’s name as he scores. If Yuta had been residual starshine, your brother is a shot of pure gold. He has long given up trying to make himself small where he glows the brightest, smiling as the whistle is blown for halftime. His teammates slap each other on the back when they go for water. Just as the game is about to resume, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket once. You figure that whoever is texting you can wait.

The other team makes a comeback in the second half, scoring on the Ravens and tying the score. You feel a bit bad for the goalie, a guy you know as Kim Yongsuk, who your brother had introduced you to in the past. He’s probably beating himself up over it. Still, the team doesn’t falter, doesn’t repeat their mistakes. It’s a hard game - from how close you are, you can almost see everyone breathing hard. Finally, with just a few minutes left to spare, the ball travels smoothly from the Ravens’ defensive line, to the midfielders, to the offense. Once it’s in your brother’s possession, it’s over. He shoots and he scores.

To be fair to the other team, they try to recover, but it’s just not enough. Time is called and it ends 2:1. The Ravens have won. You find yourself clapping and cheering with the other fans, shouting your elation to the huge stadium. As things begin to wind down and the teams shake hands, people begin to trickle out of the stadium. A satisfied hum is in the air, leaving a smile on your face, too. Perhaps soccer games are the reason you like parties, too. The warm, excited atmosphere, the noise, forgetting about the outside world to become absorbed in something else.

Finally, reality calls again after all of the players filter out to their respective locker rooms. You pull out your phone, about to send a text to your brother. However, when your phone comes to life, the first thing you see is a text from Yuta.

NaYu: Are you at the Ravens game??

An instant later, right on cue, you hear his voice. “Y/N!” Upon looking up, he’s bounding down the aisles towards you, also donning forest green and silver. Watching him weave through the rest of the people trying to leave, you wouldn’t be surprised if he would have slid down the railing if there weren’t other people there. Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for him to reach you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Why not?” You tilt your head, smiling slightly. You’re in too good of a mood to outright lie to him.

He blinks. “I thought you hated watching soccer.”

You hold your hands behind your back, swaying playfully. For once, he’s the confused one. “I don’t know what gave you that impression. I really enjoy seeing the Ravens play.”

“But… you said…” He furrows his eyebrows. “Didn’t you say you’ve seen enough soccer games to last your whole life already, or something?” “I changed my mind.” Your phone buzzes in your hand.

B/N: You still in the stands? I’m coming up.

At that, you freeze. Yuta nudges you. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” You’ve kept the fact that your brother is the Ravens’ star striker away from everyone, besides your roommates, and you can’t even begin to imagine how Yuta would react if he found how. What would he think of you? “You can head out without me, Yuta. I’m waiting for someone.” The concerned expression doesn’t leave his face. “Are you sure? It’s kind of late-”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine, I’m-”

“Y/N!”

You turn just in time to see your brother jumping the gate blocking off the entrance to the field from the stands. Most of the stadium has cleared out by now, ushered out by staff, leaving very few people. Your brother has a hoodie on with his team’s colors, the hood up and partially blocking his face from distant onlookers nonetheless. You cringe internally as he jogs up to you, not seeming tired at all, and you greet him as he engulfs you in a warm hug. “Hi, B/N.”

“I’m glad you could make it. It’s not often that I get to play for my favorite sibling.” You’re looking at your brother, but you’re sure that Yuta has a shocked look on his face as he connects the dots. Now that your brother has directly stated who he is to you, there’s no avoiding it. He looks past you and realizes that you’re not alone. “Who’s this?”

“I…” Now that you’re actually looking at Yuta, you realize he’s entirely starstruck. He looks like he’s stuck in one place, his eyes wider than normal and full of awe.

You take over for him. “This is Yuta. He’s my friend from school and our team’s center forward.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m B/N! Since Y/N finally decided to show her face at her own team’s games, I heard you guys are doing well this year. Go Lions!” He raises a fist, giving Yuta a sunny smile.

Yuta blinks hard, looking almost like he might pass out. “Y-yeah. We’re doing alright, I guess. Thank you for your support.” He reflexively dips into a shallow bow, making your brother chuckle.

“You don’t have to be so formal. Any friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine.” He elbows you not-so-gently. “Y/N! Tell me next time you want to bring him. I’ll throw in a second ticket.”

Yuta unfreezes a bit and looks at you. “You don’t bring Yein or Sowon?”

You shrug. “I don’t like to bring only one of them. It feels unfair to the other.”

“Still, I’m glad to see that you’re not lying about having at least one friend.” Your brother gives you a wicked grin and heat fills your cheeks.

“I have friends!” You insist, clenching your fists at your side.

“Do you?” Yuta teases, making you press your lips together in a look of indignation.

Before you can counter him, your brother interjects. “I hate to part with the two of you, but I have to leave.” He steps back, waving a hand at the two of you. “See you!” “I hope you stub your toe on the way out!” You shout back at him as he retreats.

“Hey, this toe is worth a lot of money! Love you, too!”

There’s a period of silence as you watch your brother disappear. Yuta clears his throat. “Do you want to go back?”

“Yeah.” You follow him wordlessly for a while, making your way out of the stadium. He walks by your side, his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t seem upset, just a bit shocked still. As you approach the bus stop, you finally speak up. “Did you come with anyone else?”

“Some of the guys from the team. I told them to go ahead without me so I could talk to you.” Of all the things he’s ever said, that makes your heart feel strange. A tiny flutter of a butterfly’s wings, if you will.

Then, as you make it to the bus shelter, you turn to him, grabbing onto the edge of his sleeve. “Yuta, promise you won’t be weird after this?”

He blinks, not fighting your grip. “Why would I be weird?”

“Just… I don’t really tell people about my brother. I don’t want you to think any differently about me because of it.” This level of vulnerability isn’t something you usually show and it feels foreign, unfamiliar. When you told Sowon and Yein about it, it didn’t feel this way. Yet, standing under the shelter with Yuta, his deep green sleeve in your hand, his eyes on yours, the light of the city falling faintly on your faces, you feel your heart pound even harder in your chest.

“I already liked you before I ever knew that.” He reaches up oh so slowly. You don’t know what he’s going to do. Touch your cheek, pat your head, kiss you? Before you can find out, the bus pulls up with a loud exhale, spewing exhaust. The doors open and the driver looks at you expectantly as you turn and get in. Yuta follows you, silent. Both of you pay your dues and sit down, side by side, his sleeve brushing yours.

You know exactly what it is about him that drives you insane. At the same time, you have no idea. While you don’t want things to be different with him after tonight, you also desperately wish for the opposite. You’re tempted to slap yourself in the face to try and wake yourself up from whatever strange dream you’re happening, but you don’t know how the boy next to you would react.

The ride passes excruciatingly slowly, as does the short walk back to your complex. Finally, as you’re standing in the stairwell, about to part ways with him, he speaks. “Do you want to study together tomorrow?”

At that, such a normal suggestion, you smile. “Sure.”

He reflects your expression. It’s a familiar look on him, which you’re grateful for. “I’ll text you. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The next day is entirely ordinary. It’s like the previous night never happened. Yuta is perfectly normal, perfectly flirty, perfectly infuriating. In fact, the entire week after is normal. You go to the Lions game, cheer on your neighbors, and pretend to be difficult with Yuta after the game. He’s always so hard on himself after his games, remarking on what he believes are the many things he could have done differently to play a better game, despite scoring all of the team’s goals and securing wins every time. You hope that you talking to him afterwards raises his spirits just as much as you enjoy it.

Then, one Saturday, you’re out running when Yuta jogs up to you. Once again, he scares the shit out of you, making you nearly trip. “Hey, Y/N.”

You tear out your headphones, giving him a look. “Have you tried not jumpscaring me?”

The shrug he gives you looks strange, as he’s jogging slowly next to you when he attempts to emote. “It’s kind of funny.” You grumble under breath about showing him what’s funny, and he continues. “Do you want to run together on the weekends?”

“This again?” You say, frowning.

He rolls his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re lonely. Since you come out to my games, I thought I should do you some sort of favor in return.”

“I also help you with your statistics homework.”

“Anyways, you’re in luck because I also don’t have a running partner. It’s a lot easier to set a pace and keep moving if you have someone with you.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. When you’re running, you’re at your most vulnerable - sweaty, tired, out of your element. There’s plenty of reasons you shouldn’t want him to run with you. “You have to run so much faster than I do. I would just slow you down.”

“Not really,” he says, looking at your feet as you jog next to him, “see? We’re both doing fine right now.”

You realize that he’s right. You keep moving wordlessly for a minute, until you speak quietly. “Would you really not mind?”

You focus on his hair bouncing as he takes each step for a while before you look at his face. In the morning sunlight, he gives you a pure smile. “Not at all.”

On Saturdays and Sundays, he’s waiting for you just outside of the complex at seven in the morning with his hair tied up to keep it out of his eyes. He easily matches his pace to yours. He’s always much more awake at that hour than you are, but the quiet encouragement he whispers whenever you slow down help perk you up. It takes you a little while to realize that he’s doing something very similar for you to what you do for him after his games.

It’s a cloudy Sunday morning. Usually, you don’t talk a ton while you’re running together, but it seems that his curiosity has gotten the best of him. “What made you want to start running?”

“Hm?” You hum, snapped out of the world that was just your feet thudding against the ground and the sound of your breathing in your ears. “Do I have to have a reason?”

“People usually don’t just randomly start doing it. Maybe they want to get stronger or lose weight. Maybe they want to impress someone.”

“It’s not about impressing anyone. I’m doing this for me.” You say it firmly, confidently. His pace stutters and he watches you continue forward. There’s something in your voice that makes him incapable of moving, and all he can do is stare at you for a moment, his heart speeding up in his chest for reasons other than the running you’re doing. When you realize he isn’t following, you turn towards him, jogging in place. The way your face is illuminated by the sunlight being cast upon it makes him sure he’s never met someone as incredible as you before in his life. “Are you coming?”

You don’t know what’s up with him. His expression is something you’ve never seen but can’t quite place. He catches up in a few bounds and you resume your run.

The next Friday, you receive a strange text.

Unknown Number: Hey, is this Y/N?

You contemplate whether or not you should respond, but you get a second text.

Unknown Number: This is Mingyu from physics

Now, that’s strange. You start to type out a reply.

Y/N: Hi! What’s up?

Kim Mingyu: I was wondering if you could help me with the lab report from last Friday? I’m having some trouble

Y/N: Sure, do you want to meet in the library later?

Meeting up with someone who you’ve never really talked to before is strange. Mingyu tries to joke with you, but something about them falls flat. You try your best to laugh and help him anyways, figuring it’s just stiffness from interacting with someone new. Though it’s nice to finally have a physics buddy, you’re almost relieved when you go home.

As you approach your complex, you see a small group formed on the lawn outside. Sicheng and Ten are standing on one leg, holding the other leg up and trying to knock each other down. A small smile comes to your face when you realize that Yuta is in the group, cheering for his friends. Around the same time you see him, he sees you and his eyes light up. He’s quickly getting to his feet and bounding towards you. Taeyong calls after him with a frown. “Yuta, you’re next!”

Still, he sidles up next to you as you walk closer to the circle. “Y/N! Where are you coming from?”

“Just the library. Actually, I was meeting up with one of your teammates, Mingyu. We were working on physics.”

The smile he wears twitches downwards for a moment. “I didn’t know you had a class with him.”

“It wasn’t worth mentioning. I never talked to him before today.” You shrug, shifting the backpack on your shoulders. “What are you guys doing?”

“One-legged fight. You should join.” He suddenly has a sadistic gleam in his eye and you take a tiny step away from him.

“And give you an excuse to push me on the ground? No thanks.”

“Aw, Y/N, I’m hurt. You don’t think I would just push you if I really wanted to?” At his proclamation, you shake your head, trying to force down a smile but failing miserably. “I’m kidding, of course. I would never.”

It’s almost sunset and he looks glorious in the golden light, the sun reflecting off of his dark hair and making his eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheekbones. If you were bolder, you might say something about it. Instead, you let out a snort of laughter, looking away from him. From the circle a few yards away, cheers erupt. Ten is curled on the ground, dramatically bemoaning his loss to Sicheng, who stands proudly over him. Taking that as his cue, Yuta gives you a small wave and rejoins his group.

When you enter your apartment with a small, content smile on your face, Yein looks up from her cooking. “Good day?”

“You could say that.”

The next morning, thankfully, is a Saturday. Yuta is waiting for you, looking just as fine in the morning sun as he did in the evening rays. He’s stretching as you approach him. “It looks like it’ll be good weather for the match today.”

“It better be.” He says it lightheartedly, but you can really imagine him threatening the weather. He’s told you that he hates the rain, partly because it makes it unpleasant to play but also just because it dampens his mood. The team is lucky they’ve gotten good weather for the season so far.

As you’re running, you remember what something you needed to ask Yuta about. “Hey, are you free on Wednesday night? My brother offered me two tickets for his game.”

His eyes light up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head, trying to keep your pace steady. “He said he would pull through, so he did. You made a good impression on him.”

“I am totally free. Completely. Did I tell you how free I am that day?” The child-like excitement in his voice makes you smile in return.

“Wow, with how not free you are, I guess I should invite someone else,” you tease and he lets out an uncharacteristic whine.

“Y/N, I know you’re messing with me, but if you take someone else after asking me, I will never forgive you.”

Now it’s your turn to pretend to be offended. “I see how much our friendship means to you, Mr. Nakamoto.”

He sighs dramatically, bringing a hand to his forehead as he acts like he’s going to faint. “You’re so serious.”

You stick out your tongue at him. “You’re such a fanboy.”

“I can’t help it. Your brother is just so cool. I don’t know how you don’t try to hang out with him literally all the time.”

That gives you pause. You feel your feet connect with the earth repeatedly for a minute, thinking about your brother and your complicated but not complicated relationship. You trust Yuta with so many things, so you may as well tell him. “A few weeks ago, when I said I was only doing this for me, I lied. Just a little.” You say, not looking at him. You’ve never really admitted it out loud before. “I want to get good enough to run with my brother. I almost never see him these days, but if I can start getting up to run with him sometimes… it’ll be like when we were kids. Or something. I don’t know.”

“He’s important enough to you that you want to change something about your life to spend more time with him,” Yuta says quietly, keeping pace with you. “I hope he knows how much you care about him.”

“You don’t always need to change to show you love someone. That’s why it was only partly a lie when I said I’m only doing this for myself.” You flash Yuta a smile, which he returns. Though your lungs burn and your legs ache, the air you breathe in is cool and fresh. “I’ll race you back.”

His eyes flash. “Challenge accepted.”

The next time you see Yuta is later that day, at his game. He’s serious, as usual, in the zone. As the season goes on, the bleachers fill up more and more with students eager to see the Lions throw sparks. The games continually get harder, but they manage to clutch this one out with a final score of 3:2.

Despite the win, Yuta still seems somewhat down. Afterwards, you’re about to go up to him to describe the glorious moment when he slid between two of the opponent defenders and scored, but you’re stopped by a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N.” To your surprise, Mingyu is the one approaching you. He doesn’t take his hand away.

“Oh! Mingyu, hi.” You try to smile at him, but your eyes wander over to Yuta briefly. “Good game today! You guys played solidly.”

“Ha, thanks. Could’ve been better on my part, I’m always looking to improve, you know.”

“I get it,” you respond, nodding.

“Are you possibly free on Wednesday night? We have a lab due on Friday and I just think it would be easier to do if we can work together, ya know?”

“Oh, um, I’m actually busy then.” You force yourself to not look at Yuta. “Does Thursday night work instead?”

“Sure, whatever. I’ll see you then.” The way he squeezes your shoulder once before stepping away to talk to some of his own friends makes your stomach turn. Why is he being so… weird?

Shaking your head, you turn back to who you had intended to greet in the first place, only to find that he had been looking at you already. What’s with the look in his eyes? Why is everyone being so weird? Ignoring the feeling, you join his circle. Yuta moves closer to your side, his arm looping around your waist as he does so, pulling you in slightly. The touch is brief but intimate, sending a bolt of electricity through your body. You swear that you can almost feel the heat of his skin through your clothes. Then, his arm is back at his side like nothing happened. You want to speak up, say what you were planning on saying before, get your mind back on a normal track, but you find that Johnny, Ten, and Jungwoo are already recreating the scene, making Yuta smile through the veil of whatever emotions he’s experiencing right now.

When the entire team heads over to the locker rooms to clean off the shine of sweat and dirt that had been accumulated through the game, you can’t help watching him. As he goes, you catch flashes of his smile while he congratulates his teammates. Something stirs in your heart.

That night, you dream of healing smiles dressed in a lion’s mane of black hair. That same visage is waiting for you the next morning when you go out to run but, here outside of your head, he’s solid, real, more than heated touches and soft caresses. At the same time, he is those things. Or, so you wish him to be.

When you study with him the next night, he is as he usually is, theoretically. Sometimes it feels like his eyes linger longer than usual, his hand rests a little closer, he smiles a little wider. It’s nothing you can confirm because, to any normal gaze, he seems entirely the same. Perhaps you’re confusing yourself into imagining things. Has his flirtatious nature finally tricked your brain into thinking he likes you?

Sometime that evening, you go to the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. You pat your face rather harshly to try and drive some sense back into your brain. You should tell him. This new boy who has become so close to you. Why are you afraid of it going wrong? You emerge from the bathroom with the same feelings that you entered it with and, there he is, looking up at your return.

The next day, Tuesday is a brief reprieve from the torture of trying to figure out his feelings through his actions. Then, your brother’s game comes. Your chatter fills the space between you on the bus ride to the stadium, him telling you about the anime he’s watching, you talking about the drama you’re watching in response. He jokes about culturing you by getting you to watch a show with him.

Watching your brother’s game with Yuta at your side is an entirely different experience. While you think you normally have pretty good commentary on your own, he provides an extra edge, excitedly explaining why some players choose to do some things or making observations about small moves that you ordinarily wouldn’t notice. Both of you absorb the atmosphere of the stadium, bursting into cheers whenever something incredible happens, screaming extra loud when your brother scores.

During halftime, when the roar of the audience is less deafening, you realize that you’ve never asked Yuta about his background with soccer before. You nudge him. “Hey, Yuta? How long have you been playing?”

He taps his chin, trying to think back. “Probably since I was five?”

“No wonder you know so much,” you say, “I’m talking to an expert right now.”

“You know too much for just a casual viewer,” he says back, snorting, “don’t tell me you don’t have some experience.”

“I only played a bit when I was younger, but I wasn’t any good. It was always more fun to watch B/N. I ended up just taking care of him whenever he pulled something or fell and scraped his arm… you know.” A wistful smile forms on your face. “It started off as just kissing bruises like my mom would, but then it turned into intense Googling whenever I couldn’t immediately figure out what was wrong with him.”

“Maybe you can kiss my boo-boos whenever I get hurt, too, then.” He’s smirking, the ever-familiar gleam of mischief in his gaze.

You force yourself to roll your eyes at him, ignoring the feeling of your heart jumping in your chest. “You’d better not get hurt, Nakamoto.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

A few minutes later, the game resumes. This matchup is considerably more difficult than the game you had attended before. Each time the Ravens seem like they’re close to scoring, the opponent defense sends it back towards your end of the field or the goalie successfully blocks it. All the same, your defense and goalie do their jobs, too, leading to a brutal back and forth. By the time the game is over, the only goal that had been scored was the single one your brother got in the first half.

“Ah, that was tense. They almost took it back there for a second.” You stand, stretching your arms behind your back to loosen them up a bit. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” Yuta gets up as well, following you as you begin to climb the stairs. “Is your brother not coming to see you this time?”

“He told me he has some press deal after this.” Once you’re in a more open area, Yuta walks next to you instead of behind. You can now see that he’s frowning.

“Does he keep you a secret on purpose?”

“I asked him to.”

“I can’t imagine keeping someone like you hidden like that.” At that strange comment, you stop, looking at him. He seems to be taking the issue very personally.

“It’s easier this way. No one prying into my life, no one asking me for autographs from him all the time. People know who our parents are. What’s so important about an unknown sister?” Is there something else he wants you to say? The look on his face is something you’ve only seen maybe once or twice. He’s in a strange mood, that’s for sure.

“I get it, it’s just…” He sighs, looking at the ground with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Yuta.” He finally meets your eyes. “It’s important to me that what people think about me is what I show them first. I don’t want to be a reflection of my brother, no matter how much I love him.”

“Is he the reason you didn’t want to talk to me at first?” There’s amusement in Yuta’s voice again, that strange seriousness gone.

You start to walk again and he keeps pace. “No, that was just because you woke me up at six in the morning.”

“I guess both of us have experiences that precede our reputations then, huh?”

The bus comes not much later. The previous reminder of how you met has him offering you one side of his earbuds, saying that this would be a better introduction to J-rock than the one you had before. As you listen, you’re tempted to lean your head against his shoulder or take his hand, which is resting oh so close to yours. Instead, you just sit still and look out the window.

After you get off of the bus, the topic of shows you both like makes a return.

“I will take it upon myself to expose you to great art. Are you free tomorrow? We have to start immediately.” Yuta begins to pester you, practically bouncing as you walk.

“Actually, I’m busy tomorrow. I’m working on physics with Mingyu again.” He doesn’t initially not react to your first statement. However, when his teammate’s name comes out of your mouth, he frowns.

“Of anyone…” The sudden change in his attitude catches you off guard. “Why him?”

“I don’t choose who’s in my classes. What’s wrong with you? I thought you got along with your teammates.” You’re nearing your complex at this point. The lamp posts bordering the sidewalk cast long shadows on the ground as you walk.

“In a team context, they’re fine. Usually. Just, that guy…” He’s scowling now, making you frown deeply in return.

“What about him?”

“I don’t know, Y/N.” He pauses, but then his feet stop moving a moment later. “Fuck it, I do know. He’s not a good person. He’s a manipulator. He’s a good manipulator, but he’s bad at lying when you actually confront him-”

“Yuta, you’re being ridiculous. Even if he is, I’m strong enough to take care of myself.”

“Y/N, he was with me at that first game! The one where I found out about your brother? What if he saw? He’s the type to use information like that to get what he wants. What if he-”

“What if he what, Yuta?” You glare at him, anger muddled with some other hurt now filling you. “He hasn’t done anything. He isn’t going to do anything. Our ‘secret’ isn’t going to get out. I can take care of myself.”

With that, you brush past him, into the complex, into your apartment. Thankfully, your roommates aren’t in the common area, so you safely make it to your room. Once you’re there, you shove your face into your pillow. You consider screaming into it, but you know he’s probably in his own room, where he could hear you. Instead, you just heave breath after frustrated breath.

You don’t know why you snapped at him. Actually, you do. It’s the fear that he’s actually doing what he accused Mingyu of. After every word you’ve exchanged, every conversation, you should be confident that he’s not like that. But, you’ve never been in this situation before. What if he…

It’s a stupid notion and you know it. That’s just the surface. Another layer of your feelings peels away. You hate when people are too protective of you. You want to make your own decisions, to learn for yourself. You hate when your brother is too protective of you and you hate when Yuta is.

That’s not even all of it. Finally, you reach the root of your aggression. What right does Nakamoto Yuta have to try and be protective of you when you aren’t even together? Was that the concern of a friend or the concern of a jealous lover?

You curl in on yourself even more tightly, breathing through the pillow under your face. No one has ever flirted with you as much as he has. You’ve never been so ridiculously on and off with someone before. Still, neither of you are willing to answer the question. You’ve never actually fought like this with him before.

Perhaps he hates you now that you’ve thrown his warnings back in his face.

The next day, after your classes, you force yourself to go to the library to meet Mingyu, Yuta’s words heavy in your mind. As you work, you can tell he’s still trying desperately to get on your good side, even emanating Yuta in a strange, off-balance way. It’s not amusing when he does it.

Finally, the subject you’ve been dreading comes.

“Are you a fan of the Ravens? I think I saw you at one of their games once.”

You swallow back disappointment. Mingyu is the worst fear of your insecure self and you finally have to come face to face with it. “I guess you could say that.”

To your surprise, he doesn’t take it farther than that. If Yuta’s right about him, then it’s probably just one piece of a larger goal. Though you never cared much for Mingyu, it doesn’t feel good to see things begin to unfold.

Not seeing him for two days in a row brings your mood down more than you’d like to admit. At the same time, you’re not ready to apologize yet. You don’t know what exactly is happening on his end, you never know, so when you go outside to run at your normal time on Saturday, you half expect him to be there.

He isn’t. And you don’t run into him on your way back, either. The game it is, then.

As the day progresses, the sky gets increasingly cloudy. In the evening, when the Lions and their opponent team are out on the field running final drills, it’s easy enough to tell that a good number of people had looked at the forecast - the crowd in the bleachers is much thinner than usual. The sky could open up and pour its soul out onto all of you at any moment.

You don’t even bother pretending that you’re not watching Yuta. As he steps off the field for their usual pre-game pep talk and chant, you swear he makes eye contact with you. Normally, he wouldn’t even bother looking, because he’s usually confident that you’re there. You’re not sure what the look in his eyes is now.

The coin toss decides that the other team will start with the ball. That might have been the first omen about the game. Then again, maybe the other team is just… better. Their defense is at least tighter than yours. At halftime, they have a point up on the Lions, 0:1. Yuta seems to take this very, very personally. Within ten minutes of the game restarting, they tie the score back up.

At about three quarters of the way through, it begins to rain. The referee deems that they’ve played far to stop, so the match continues. Almost like they take the poor weather as a sign, the rival team scores nearly immediately after.

You pathetically huddle under a single umbrella with Sowon while Yein shares one with Johnny. The ball slips rather than flies around the field, back and forth, back and forth, until, finally, with barely any time to spare, it’s at Yuta’s feet. The world seems to move in slow motion, then. His right foot moves backwards. It swings forwards. He makes contact.

He misses.

You try not to gasp. Yuta himself seems to be in shock, with how he goes stiff for a moment. Then, he’s back in action, targeting where the goalie had thrown the ball. This time, it’s not enough. A minute later, after another brutal back and forth, the scream of the whistle soars above the sound of the rain. It’s over. The Lions have met their first loss of the season.

The two teams barely wait around to shake hands before they’re rushing off to the locker rooms, away from the rain. Yuta moves slower than the rest, seeming to drag his feet through the muddying grass. Ahead of him, all of his teammates are moving quickly, but moping nonetheless. From your position, you see Mingyu kick the shins of someone you recognize to be one of the younger players. You see Kun’s mouth move as he tells him off, but they’re far enough away and the rain is loud enough that you can’t hear. If you hadn’t been displeased already, you are now.

Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?

“You guys can go back,” you say, taking a step out from under the umbrella after you’re out of the bleachers with your friends. When Sowon tries to shove her umbrella in your hands, you push it back. “I’ll be fine! It’s only a short distance.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“Don’t worry.” With a sigh, she turns, reluctantly walking back behind Yein and Johnny.

You take off running, trying to outpace the raindrops pelting you. By the time you make it beneath the slight sheltered roof of the locker room building, you’re damp, but not entirely soaked. It’s enough to be an annoyance, your clothes sticking slightly to your skin.

You wait outside for a good few minutes. Small groups of players from either team leave, the opponent players giving you strange looks as you lean against the wall and shiver, Baekho and his group giving you an awkward acknowledgement, and, finally, Mingyu emerges.

“Y/N?” He seems confused, but somewhat excited. As if you’re there to meet him.

“Mingyu. Answer one question for me.” You say it wearily, expressing it like the chore it is.

“What are you acting so weird for?” The excitement you glimpsed before dies.

“Were you going to use me to get in good with my brother?”

The rain is the only sound you hear for a couple solid heartbeats. “Y/N, listen…”

“He was right…” You grumble to yourself. You glare up at him. “You can do your physics labs by yourself. Delete my number.”

He stands before you for a moment more before he realizes that you’re serious. He turns and walks away, into the haze of the downpour. A minute later, Jaehyun and Kun emerge from the building.

“Oh, Y/N,” Jaehyun says, seeming surprised. “Are you waiting for Yuta?”

“Is it that obvious?”

The two of them exchange looks and smile. Kun speaks next. “He’s probably not coming out for a while. He usually gets all depressed when we lose a game, but I’ve never seen it this bad. He’s been standing in the shower for like fifteen minutes.”

You glance at the door. Jaehyun nudges you. “He’s the only one left in there. I wouldn’t tell anyone if you, say, went in right now.”

“A bonafide cupid right here,” Kun says, swinging the bag he has slung over his shoulder around so he can dig through it. He produces something, offering it to you. “Here.”

“What is…” You trail off as you take it from him, your face warming as you realize exactly what it is. “Kun, what is this?!”

“I don’t want any miniature versions of him running around. I’m always prepared.” You stare at Kun incredulously a beat longer before you shove the condom in your damp pocket.

“Good luck!” Jaehyun calls back to you as they begin to walk off, leaving you standing under the overhang. Taking a deep breath, you push open the door and walk inside.

Unsurprisingly, the place has a somewhat sweaty smell to it. The rows of lockers are labeled with names and a little image depicting the sport the owner plays, as all of the school’s teams use the same locker room, and the occasional miscellaneous socks, gloves, and other things are scattered about. A row of sinks is against one wall and past the sinks is an entrance into the shower area. You make your way there.

As you get closer, the distinct sound of one shower running gets louder. The only curtain that’s closed is a middle stall, all of the others open and empty. Parallel to the shower stalls is a long wooden bench. “Yuta?” You call out. He doesn’t respond, so you try again. “Yuta?”

“Go away.” This time, the response is sharp and harsh. He certainly is in a mood.

“Yuta, it’s me.”

“Y/N?” His voice is significantly less negative now. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you.”

You can barely hear him sigh over the sound of the shower running. “You couldn’t wait until after I was done?”

“No.” When you say that, the water shuts off. A hand sneaks out to grab the towel hanging from a hook affixed to the partition between the stalls. You don’t see anything revealing, but you look away anyways. The scraping of the rings being drawn back tells you he has emerged from the stall.

“You can look at me, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.” You look back, greeted with the sight of his gloriously wet hair and bare torso. He emerged quickly enough that he didn’t have time to dry much of the water dripping off of him. The only part of his body that’s covered is his waist and thighs, though the towel still reveals a tantalizing v-line. You forcibly swallow your thirst.

“Blatantly checking me out again? I get it, but would it kill you to be less obvious?” The comment throws you back to a simpler time, when you were just irritated with him for his cockiness and blasting music through the floor.

“Speak for yourself.” You cross your arms. It was obvious enough that he was enjoying the sight of you in a wet t-shirt and shorts.

“Why didn’t you wear something warmer?” He says, frowning. He steps closer, leaving little space between you.

“I didn’t think it would cool down this much.” You look away, not able to face his bare chest quite yet. The room still has a certain steam about it from the hot shower he was taking that makes it a little harder to breathe. Then again, maybe that’s just him being mostly naked in front of you. He reaches out, touching the hem of your shirt.

“You’re soaked,” he says, rubbing your shirt between his thumb and index finger.

“You’re just making me wetter.” Your face burns something fierce as you say it, contrasting the chill that had settled over your skin from standing outside. “You would think you’d dry yourself off more before getting out of the shower.”

“I was just eager to see you, I guess.” You finally have the courage to meet his eyes again.

“I missed you this morning.” You almost pout while saying it, feeling small under his gaze. It’s not an uncomfortable smallness, but one that makes you feel closer to him.

“I figured you didn’t want to see me.” He reaches out, brushing his fingers softly over the side of your face. His touch is blissfully warm. “Or, I think that you did want to see me, but you would only be angrier if I showed up.”

The thought almost makes you laugh. It would be one of the few times he’s been wrong about your feelings. But, if he always knows so much… “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I talked to Mingyu a few minutes ago and you were right. I should have trusted you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you handle it on your own.” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “You’re strong enough to deal with assholes like him. You don’t need me.”

“I might not need you, but I do want to keep you around.” The small confession has your bottom lip quivering. “Did I mess up your game today?”

“It was mostly the rain.” He sounds so nonchalant, but you can tell he’s still bothered. “Not you. But, if you do feel bad about it, Miss Physical Therapy, there is something you can do for me.”

His eyes have shifted away from their darkness into a different sort of moodiness. You step closer. “What is it?”

He moves back, taking a heavy seat on the bench. “I’m quite tense. Give me a massage.” His eyes bore into yours. “If you so choose.”

You step behind him. The thrill of what you feel like he’s implying thrums in your veins. The muscles of his shoulders and back are hard under your fingers, showing years of training and toning. You’re almost surprised at how well built his upper body is for a soccer player. His skin is beyond perfect too, and the little droplets of water from his steamy shower that settle on his skin glisten temptingly in the low light of the locker room.

“Sorry my hands are cold,” you practically whisper.

“It’s fine. Feels nice.” He wasn’t lying when he said he was tense - you can feel the knots leaving his muscles as you press down on them, dissolving into smooth flesh that’s soft to the touch. As you work along his back, one particularly tough knot has your thumbs pressing harder into him, drawing a low groan and a curse from his throat. “Fuck.”

The sound turns you on more than you’d like to admit. As you finish his back, you become even more hyper aware of the little noises he’s letting out, the space between you becoming noticeably warmer. Slowly, reluctantly, your hands leave his skin and you circle back towards his front, not quite wanting to look him in the eye. “Is that better?”

“Much.” The air feels heavy. “But you’re not done, yet.” Ordinarily, he’d be smirking so hard you’d be able to hear it in his voice, but there’s only a low command to his tone now. He reaches out, guiding your dominant hand forward so that it’s resting on the front of his shoulder. There’s no hiding from his eyes now. You decide then - if you’re going to do this, you might as well go all out. Sliding onto his lap, your knees pressing into the wooden bench on either side of him, makes you feel both powerful and small at the same time. His face is only a breath away from your own. You swear you can see his eyes flicker to your lips. Trying to play innocent, despite the fact that you can basically feel his dick hardening under his thin towel, you shift slightly, putting your focus on his shoulder and pectoral muscles. Every so often, you readjust yourself, purposefully bouncing slightly on his lap, almost grinding down on him. He doesn’t crack, remaining still and keeping his expression flat. The only signs he gives of being aroused are the slight shiver to his breath and the prominent bulge you’re now certain you can feel. That, and the hands he has on your body, one on your hip and one on your thigh, fixing you in place.

The process is slow, arduous, but you eventually finish with his pectoral and shoulder muscles. You pull your hands away, placing them in your lap and then sitting back, unmoving on his lap, reveling in the way you’ve very clearly made him feel. “Is that all?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips again before boring into your own. “You missed one spot.” Wordlessly, he reaches up, tapping his own lips.

You could walk away right now. His hands aren’t so tight on your body that you couldn’t just get up and leave, go back to your apartment and forget this ever happened. But why would you want to? You’ve been dreaming of his lips for weeks. Finally, you’re about to get a taste. Still, there’s an edge of apprehension digging slightly in your gut.

You’ve sat in silence for long enough that he’s opening his mouth, an apology about to leave his lips, when you swoop forward, pressing your lips to his.

Where he had given you the choice to initiate, he’s the one who really leads. He almost instantly deepens the kiss, dragging you even farther up his lap, pressing you hard against his barely-shielded dick. You feel his fingertips against your skin, under the hem of your top.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes, but-” Where his hands had stilled under your shirt they begin to move again. “Yuta, wait.” He freezes once more, looking up at you. If you didn’t know better, you could swear you see a little bit of fear in his eyes. A shaky breath leaves your lips. “I won’t fuck you unless you tell me you actually have feelings for me. Did you mean what you said back then? After the games?”

“Is that a requirement for all the guys you sleep with or am I special?” You can feel his cock throbbing under you and your own insides ache in response. Of course, he’s delaying what both of you want by being coy. The frustration building up in your gut and in your heart makes you feel like you’re going insane.

“Yuta…” You mean it to sound admonishing, but your tone is more akin to a whine as you lightly drag your nails down his chest. His breath stutters slightly in his lungs at the motion, but in that moment, a sort of gentleness you’ve rarely seen takes over his facade.

“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” he breathes out, eyes locked with yours, “how could I not have feelings for you?”

You kiss him, sweetly, desperately. His hands begin to move once more, his fingertips digging ever so slightly into your skin. When his hands make it to the edge of your shirt, giving you a suggestion, you cover them with your own, guiding him to take it off. As soon as the garment is out of the way, his lips are on your neck, your collar, the soft skin of your chest. He can feel the hum of your voice through your breast as you speak. “I really like you, Yuta. More than I’ve ever liked anyone else.”

His fingers nimbly unclasp your bra and it falls to the ground somewhere. As his touch ghosts over your breasts, you arch into his hand, drawing a warm chuckle from him. “That’s good,” he says, thumbing slow circles over your nipples, “because I feel the same way about you.”

You pull him back to your mouth, pulling him as close as you possibly can, breathing him like he’s air, tasting him like he’s food. His tongue is slick against your bottom lip, against your own tongue. Almost unconsciously, you rock your hips against his bulge as you move. Impatiently, he tugs at your shorts, pulling you out of the kiss.

“These have to come off.”

“It would kill you to go slow for once,” you laugh, getting off of his lap on shaky legs.

“I go slow for you all the time,” he responds, shifting the towel at his waist, which you realize is barely holding onto him from all the grinding you were doing on his lap, “I’ve been going slow for months now. Isn’t it time to speed things up?”

You roll your eyes, but shimmy out of your shorts, leaving you in your panties and him in his towel. From this angle, he can truly appreciate you. Every curve, every beauty mark, every fold and crease on your body. He leans back, his hands bracing him against the bench. Then, he shifts forward abruptly, taking the opportunity to snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin.

“Yuta!” The cry is half an admonition, half a laugh. You move to push his shoulder gently and he catches you by the hand, pulling you on top of him and kissing you once again. Before you realize it, he has a sneaky hand slipping into your panties, touching you where you’re most sensitive, making you jolt against his hand.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs the words against your lips and you nod, trying to focus on kissing him through the pleasure of his fingers. It’s been far too long since anyone has touched you like this and you’re not used to it.

“Mm,” you moan back, “more than okay.”

He had said he wanted to go faster, but it seems like he’s just going so slow, making you fall apart on his hand, first with just a thumb on your clit, then two fingers pushed more deeply inside of you than you could ever reach yourself. At some point, you’re no longer kissing him and your cheek is pressed to his instead. You nip at his ear, which you now realize is pierced, and the damp spikeyness of his hair rests against your temple.

His free hand rests over your breast, rhythmically squeezing it as you ride his fingers. Oddly enough, you feel like he predicts your climax before even you do, working you carefully through the release of pleasure as you shudder against him and clench around his fingers. Before you can fully regain your senses, he’s kissing you again and removing his hand, wiping his sticky digits against the towel slipping from his waist. You figure you’ll finish the job, reaching down to untwist the cloth so that it falls open against the bench.

You continue kissing him as you take his dick in your hand, your thumb sliding over the precum beading at his tip. It’s his turn to shiver, his cock twitching in your hand. Giving it slow, purposeful jerks, you watch him become perfectly uncomposed under you and you grin, leaning closer to press a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He’s stiff, but remarkably soft to the touch, veiny and thick enough that your mouth waters. A couple minutes pass before he’s encasing your hand in his own, slowing your movement.

“I don’t want to come in your hand.” You stop, looking at him with faux-innocent eyes. He blinks desperately at you. “Please.”

“Can I suck you off later?” The words leave your mouth unexpectedly. You hadn’t even really been thinking about the later, but you figure you’re safe to assume that there will be one.

“Of course, pretty girl.” He strokes your hair and you can just think about him holding it back in the future as he-

Trying to distract yourself from the later and focus on the now, you slide off of his lap once again. He almost seems confused, made lonelier by the tiniest distance you put between the two of you. It’s almost a funny image, him half pouting at you while his dick is out, standing up against his abdomen and completely exposed. You let out the smallest exhale of a laugh. “You showed me yours, so I figured I would show you mine.” Your panties fall to the ground, where you kick them in the general direction of the rest of your clothes. The sight of your shorts reminds you of another important thing. “Oh! Also!”

You scramble over to them, reaching into the pocket and producing the little foil packet. Yuta stares at you. “You’re… prepared? I didn’t even think this far ahead and half the time my brain is controlled by my-”

“Kun gave it to me before I came in here,” you say, waltzing back over to him. He takes the packet from your hand, tearing it open. You… give him a hand as he rolls it on. “He’s awfully ready for a great many situations, isn’t he?”

“I think he was expecting this to happen a lot earlier than it actually did, honestly,” Yuta responds, pulling you back on top of him for the third time. Once again, your knees rest on the hard wood bench. “Can we not talk about my roommate, please?”

“I can agree to that.” You smile, kissing him. “Can we talk about how much I like you instead?”

“We can always talk about that,” he says, one hand on his dick, one on your hip, “are you ready?”

The mood dips, making your body shiver in anticipation again. “Yes.”

The way he positions his cock and begins to push into you makes both of you let out noises of relief, a groan from him and a sigh from you. You sink down onto him further until he’s fully sheathed inside of you, hard and pulsing and ungodly warm. He gives an experimental buck of his hips, pulling a moan from your lips and shaping his into a cocky smirk. “Already feel that good?”

“Shut up,” the complaint dies in your throat as you lift yourself up on your knees and sink back down again, bouncing on his lap slightly. You focus on the feeling of him inside of you, the sensation of him hitting your G-spot, the touch of his fingers on your clit again. His breath mingles with yours whenever he takes a break from kissing you. Your hands wander the smooth planes of his chest, your thumb briefly ghosting over his nipple, your palms getting sweatier as you hold onto him. It’s not long before you let your head fall back, your thighs tense as you hold onto his shoulders and move up and down on top of his cock.

His lips are hot as he mouths your neck. You’re not usually the type for marking, but, honestly, the thought of wearing his hickey on your skin sounds beyond appealing. He introduces the slightest bit of teeth, grazing them over your pulse as you ride him. The trail of tiny nips goes down past your collarbones to your breast. Your heart beats loudly in your ears and the desperation of chasing your orgasm makes the passage of time feel fuzzy, but in the sweet, bubbly way a soda does rather than the heavy, blurry way a cold would.

“Yuta,” you whine, the knocking of your legs against the bench growing painful, “can you…”

“I got you, baby.” With a grunt, he stands, lifting you by the thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. A breath later, your back is pressed to the wall and he’s pushing into you once again. The new angle is a change, and it’s a good change. Every one of his thrusts hits exactly right, pushing you further and further until-

“Yuta, you’re gonna make me...” you pant against his mouth, breathing the same air as him. At some point, after he had picked you up, you had reconnected your lips, and he swallows the little noises you let out hungrily. You clench and unclench your fists behind his back, as your arms are slung over his shoulders.

“Mm, good. That’s my girl.”

All you can think as he pounds into you is Yuta, Yuta, Yuta. You come undone with a final swipe of his thumb and a choked cry of his name. Once your own orgasm has stopped burning quite so bright, lowering to a comfortable simmer in your gut, his hips slow with each thrust until he pushes into you and stays there. You can feel him throb inside of you even through the condom.

Your skin feels like it’s glowing in the aftermath of his love, warm like coals after a fire has just ceased to burn. Warm with the promise of more flames in the future. You lean your face in the junction of his shoulder and neck, breathing love onto his skin. His deep, uneven breaths slow over time as he presses gentle kisses to the exposed flesh of your shoulder. The silence between you is only interrupted by the ambient sound of water flowing through pipes hidden in the concrete walls of the shower part of the locker room. That’s enough of a reminder for you to groan, clutching onto him tighter. “I can’t believe we just confessed and fucked in your sweaty locker room.”

“From my perspective, it’s more ‘wow, I can’t believe we finally confessed and fucked, even if it was in my sweaty locker room.’” That, at the very least, makes you smile. Slowly, he begins to pull out, separating from you with a sticky, wet sound. He backs up, turning so that he can place you gently on the towel still lying on the bench. He disposes of the used rubber quickly, throwing it in a trash can at one end of the room.

Now that he’s no longer touching you, it feels so much colder. “I feel bad for whoever has to clean this place. I hope they don’t find that.”

He shrugs. “I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He makes his way back to you, naked body still on full, glorious display for your eyes only. “Wanna shower while we’re here?”

You groan. “Yuta, I’m tired. No funny business.”

“Who said anything about any ‘funny business?’ I just suggested we clean off the sweat from all that physical exertion.” He’s smirking, not even pretending to be innocent.

“You’re insatiable.” Still you get up, joining him in the shower stall that he holds open for you. If any follow up activity happens while you’re in there, the only way anyone on the outside would be able to tell would be from the quiet sounds that are mostly drowned out by the noise of the shower.

As you finally redress, accepting the hoodie that Yuta had in his locker so that you don’t have to put your wet shirt back on, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, like he’s afraid you’ll go away. The environment between you feels different, but the same. After you’re both fully dressed and start walking out the door, you reach out to take his hand. He accepts the action, interlocking his fingers with yours. Both of you stop under the overhang of the building. By now, the sun has set and a few street lights shine along the walkways of the campus through the haze of rain. “Yuta, are you my boyfriend?”

He blinks a couple times. “Wasn’t that implied?”

You turn away, suddenly shy. “I mean… I just… wanted to clarify…”

“You’re too good for me.” He laughs, then kisses your cheek. Both of you stare out of the rain, as if it’s going to suddenly stop just because you’re politely waiting for it. “I meant it. Every time.”

“Hm?”

“Every time I said I liked you, or that you’re amazing. I was just afraid of- I don’t know. That I’m not honest enough or nice enough, or even good enough at soccer. I just-” He seems so tired as he says it, so brutally truthful, so terribly self-doubting.

You squeeze his hand. “Yuta, it’s okay. Honestly, all this time, I thought you’re too good for me. You’re so much more than the things you say you are. You’re a star.”

“I’m not. I can be an asshole, and jealous, and not serious even when I should be-”

“Yuta, if you like me despite all of my ridiculous bad qualities, I’m pretty sure I can deal with a little jealousy. You’ve shown me who you are and I still like you. You’re loyal and funny and romantic and so many other things. I like you.”

He sighs sweetly, like he was holding in a breath for so long and is finally letting it out. He’s holding your hand so tightly, it feels like he might never let go. Right now, you think you might be okay with that. “Sorry. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

You peer into others’ eyes for a long time, content to just look. Then, the cold finally gets to your legs and you shiver, scooching slightly closer to him. You look out. The rain isn’t getting any better. “Do you want to run? To make up for us not going together this morning?”

He doesn’t even respond. He just glances at you, winks, and tugs at your hand, starting to go. The rain pelts you as you go, utterly soaking you, getting in your shoes, darkening your borrowed hoodie. His hair sticks to his forehead, making him look a bit like a wet kitten. Maybe a lion, more accurately. Still, in the passing lights and the sheen of the rain, he glows.

“Yuta?” You say between shallow breaths.

“Yeah?” He keeps going, keeps tugging you along. You have to work to keep up with him, pumping your legs hard.

“Do you want to go professional?”

He looks back at you quickly, but then turns forward. “I would.”

“I really think you could do it!”

Then he’s laughing, truly, mirthfully. “That’s the second best thing you’ve said to me today!”

At that, you’re laughing too, though it slows your pace, though it makes your lungs burn, though it helps rain water run into your mouth. When you make it to your complex, soaked through, looking like you just took a swim in your clothes, you don’t want to let go. Reluctantly, both of you part ways to change clothes in your respective apartments with the promise to meet soon and start Yuta’s effort to culture you with anime.

Sowon and Yein tease you relentlessly, both when you enter your apartment leaving puddles on the ground and when you leave again ten minutes later completely dry. They tease you for the next week whenever they catch you leaving if they know you don’t have classes. The next Friday, you end up staying up far too late watching one of Yuta’s shows, which you admit are at the very least fun, and you fall asleep in his bed. You’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it from your roommates, even if Yein has been staying in the volleyball boys’ apartment every other day for the last month.

In the morning, a mere three hours after you and Yuta went to sleep, you wake up in his arms to a strange blaring of J-rock. He reaches over you to slap his phone and shut it off. You stay awake just long enough to comment on how strange it is hearing the music next to you and not through the floor.

When you wake up around noon to Yuta staring at you, his bangs half covering his eyes, you flip over, checking the time so that he can’t see the absolutely embarrassed look on your face. “You’re so weird.” “Why are you being all shy? I’ve seen you naked. There’s nothing more to see.”

“There’s plenty more of me to see, thank you very much, Nakamoto Yuta.”

“I know there is, darling.” His arm is still slung over your torso like it was when the alarm went off and he tries to wrestle you back around to face him. You squirm in his hold.

“Darling? You’re so weird. Why are you so weird?”

“Weird? I thought I was romantic and funny and-”

“And weird!” You wiggle more until he flips you onto your back, straddles you, and pins your hands to the bed. It’s quite an incredible sight, him pinning you down with his raven hair a complete mess and no shirt, where you can faintly see marks that you may or may not have left on his chest earlier in the week. “No fair. Home ground advantage.”

He leans in, looking ever so charming despite his disheveled appearance. “You know what makes for great morning exercise?”

“You’re weird and a horndog and-”

“Running! Let’s go.” He suddenly rises up, taking one of your hands with him and pulling you into a sitting position.

“Yuta, it’s noon! There are going to be people out everywhere.” He tugs on your hand and you move so that you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. “And it’s Saturday, so there’s going to be even more people…”

“You don’t need to worry about people judging you. If anyone gives you any funny looks, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Punt a soccer ball at their heads?” You’re standing now, looking at him uncertainly.

He shrugs. “Sure. But, seriously. I promise that you have nothing to be self conscious about. You also have me. That part most importantly.” You would smack him if the smile he gives you doesn’t have you reluctantly agreeing.

He’s right, of course. The run is completely fine. At least, you’re distracted enough by your boyfriend for it to be fine. When you return, you split off to take showers in your apartments. After you emerge from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around your body, you find him waiting in your room. You register him saying something about the tables turning and “great afternoon exercise” before he practically pounces on you.

Afterwards, through your sex-high haze, you hear a loud knocking on your front door. Groaning, you move only so much as to press your face into Yuta’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna get up…”

“Did I make you feel that good?” His voice is a warm rumble, teasing, though full of the same tiredness that yours has. You’re about to jab him lightly in the side when his hand shifts down, two of his fingers running through your folds. Shivering at the suggestion, you wiggle closer to him, hiding your face even more.

“Let me rest, you sex-fiend.” Before he can reply, there’s a few more insistent knocks at your door. “Ugh…”

“Were you expecting someone?” You shake your head against him. He reaches over and grabs your phone. “I heard this going off earlier while we were busy.” You make no move to take it from him, so he turns it on, his eyes scanning the recent chain of texts you’d just received. “It’s your brother.”

You immediately bolt straight up. “What?” Your mind ticks back to the previous day before you’re scrambling out of bed. “Shit, shit, shit, I forgot he was coming today!” As quickly as you can, you try to throw on the various items of clothing that had gotten scattered around the room in your - Yuta’s, more accurately - haste to move them off of the bed, where you had laid them out for after your shower.

Yuta stretches lazily. “Glad I could remind you.”

“Asshole, get clothes on! He’ll kill you if he figures out what we did!”

“Ah, to be killed by L/N B/N. You say ‘what we did’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“He’s my older brother, for God’s sake!” You throw a shirt at him, smacking him in the face. “He will murder you! If he doesn’t murder me for forgetting our plans first…”

“And your plans are?” He slips his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, slipping it on.

“I’m taking him to see your game. Maybe meet the team. Who knows? You won’t be able to see it if you don’t move your ass.” You finish putting your jeans on.

“I’ve never escaped through a window before, but it sounds fun.” He’s still smirking, clearly amused. You’re certain he would actually do that if you let him.

“On second thought, just stay here. I won’t let him into my room.” Your phone lights up with your brother’s face and number and starts to buzz. You pick it up. “Sorry, I’m coming! I was napping.” You hang up. “Please, Yuta?”

He steps into his own jeans. “That’s what I was planning on. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to incapacitate myself before the game.”

With that reassurance, you close the door to your room and head for the apartment door. Your brother, clad in a hat, hoodie, and jeans, weirdly normal for him, is standing in front of your door, his phone in his hand. He narrows his eyes. “Hi, Y/N. For a second there, I really thought you forgot about our plans. Who takes a nap on a Saturday afternoon?”

You step aside, letting him in. “I was just tired today for some reason. Sorry.” “You’re lucky you’re my favorite.” He walks in, sliding off his shoes next to yours. “Are your roommates home? It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.”

“No, but they’ll be at the game later. You won’t miss them.” You stand there, swaying somewhat awkwardly. You’re sure that he’s noticed that you’re acting strangely. “Who let you into the lower doors?”

Your brother steps inside casually. “Your neighbor Jaehyun. Nice kid.”

“Y-Yeah. He’s one of our midfielders.”

“I guess I’ll get to see him in action soon, then. Where near here is good for something quick? We only have an hour and a half until the game.”

You’re thankful for a change in subject. “Depends what you want to eat! Think about it while I run to the bathroom?”

As you head there, you glance at your closed door. You feel kind of bad for leaving him in there, but it’s for his own protection. When you get back to the door, your brother is in the same place, staring at the shoes around the entry. He points at a pair of men’s shoes, which you realize with dawning horror are Yuta’s.

“Y/N? Whose shoes are these?”

“Oh! Those are, um, Johnny’s. Yein’s boyfriend.”

He deadpans. “Johnny. Your neighbor. The one who lives right across from you. Who is dating your roommate who isn’t here right now.” When you don’t respond, he sighs. “Y/N, it would be a lot easier to lie to me if you didn’t tell me so much in the first place. Who’s in your room? I know you hate closing your door if you’re not sleeping.”

Reluctantly, you walk to your room, cursing observant soccer players. Yuta looks mildly surprised to see you, and you walk over to where he’s sitting on your bed, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him over to your brother. If he’s afraid of your brother, he doesn’t show it.

“Yuta, was it?” He’s still expressionless. “I’ll have you know that there’s a few rules.” Before Yuta can even ask about the rules, he’s launching into a detailed explanation about consequences, saying something about maiming and making it look like an accident.

“B/N, you’re a professional now. You should really try not to say such scary stuff. Also,” you say, frowning, “I can handle myself. You know that by now.”

Yuta breaks his silence. “She really can. She’s strong enough to deal with anything.”

“You really believe that?” Your brother’s gaze is unyielding.

“I do.”

“Well, then.” He suddenly lightens up, smiling at the two of you. “Want to join us for dinner? I’m thinking noodles.”

“I actually have to get to warm-ups soon…” Yuta says regretfully.

“That’s a good boy. See, Y/N, I trust your judgement. We best be off, then.” Abruptly, your brother turns, putting his shoes back on. You scramble to join him, grabbing your things and putting your own shoes on.

“I’ll see you later?” You say to Yuta, who’s simply staring, somewhat shell shocked that he survived the encounter.

He blinks, then gives you a sort of smirk. “How about a kiss for-”

“Don’t push it.” Your brother cuts him off, standing in the doorway. He starts down the stairs. When he’s not looking, you lean over, pressing your lips to Yuta’s cheek. Before you can turn around, he sneaks one of his own onto your lips. You run after your brother.

He thoroughly grills you about Yuta during dinner, but you don’t mind. You keep out the parts about sex and the specifics of the relationship coming to fruition and he seems satisfied. You barely make it to the game in time because of your brother’s interrogation, but you still get there early enough to see some of the drills. In work mode, he crosses his arms, making approving comments about Yuta’s footwork. Your boyfriend is in a similar mood, already focused in.

Then, the game starts. The other team starts with the ball, but it makes no difference. The Lions take it back, sending it back and forth across the field, gaining and losing it, until Yuta, as usual, scores, redeeming himself from the previous week. Your brother says something under his breath about potential and skill. Through the game, the Lions make great plays and you find yourself cheering for all of them, even Mingyu. The rival team stands no chance - not for lack of skill, but simply because your team is determined. By the end of the game, the score is a solid 3:0.

You’re one of the first onto the field after the teams break away from shaking hands. You meet Yuta in the middle, jumping on him in a hug when you reach him. You can’t stop the outpouring of praise, telling him how well he played, how brilliant he was. He just laughs, telling you he did his best. It’s the most positive thing you’ve heard from him after a game.

When you let go of him, willing to let the rest of his friends surround him now, you step away in search of your brother. To your surprise, he’s chatting up the Lions’ coach, who seems somewhat flustered by the Ravens’ striker speaking to him. Before you can get close, the coach blows the whistle he has around his neck, getting the attention of everyone around him, but particularly the team.

“Boys! Gather round, we have someone here with something to say to you.”

It doesn’t take long for them to recognize who your brother is.

It’s funny seeing the team rush to your brother, some pretending to be cool, some openly fawning over him. But, there’s one person who isn’t looking at him. From across the mob forming around your brother, you make eye contact with Yuta. And, in the midst of the stars shining in the form of the Raven, the Lion’s light falls on you.

#yuta smut #yuta fluff #nct smut #nct fluff #neowritingsnet #nct angst #yuta angst #nct one shot #yuta one shot #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #yuta imagine #nct imagine #yuta fanfiction #yuta fanfic #sports collab #i hope everyone enjoys this :) #apologies for lateness #wonjaekook

[magicaththedemigod]

an extensive analysis of “the song of achilles” by madeline miller

Or: things I noticed and couldn't keep to myself.

Because I just finished reading it and have many feelings about it, I've decided to compile all of them into a very lengthy Tumblr post.

This will be broken up into three parts:

1. Foreshadowing

2. Dramatic (and regular) Irony

3. Fatal Flaws

1. Foreshadowing

Miller does such a delightful job with foreshadowing. The number of quotes I could be spitting at you right now... but I digress. The main job of foreshadowing, especially in a tragedy like "The Song of Achilles," is to set the characters up for their tragedy.

What I like most about how Miller goes about it in this book is that she doesn't attempt to pull a shocking twist out of nowhere; instead, she takes an approach which allows the reader to fully marinate in their despair.

For example, this quote:

Achilles shook his head, impatiently. "But this was a greater punishment for her. It was not fair of them." "There is no law that gods must be fair, Achilles," Chiron said. "And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone. Do you think?"

Let's take a moment and unpack some of this. For context, this is a conversation between Patroclus, Achilles, and their mentor Chiron. They're discussing the tale of Heracles, who's driven to madness and ends up killing his own wife and kids.

From reading the book, (SPOILER ALERT) you know that Achilles' own pride and honor end up forcing Patroclus to impersonate him in order to save the Greek army, and in doing so is killed by Hector. The fact that Chiron directs this question, "And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone. Do you think?" to Achilles, who is left behind after Patroclus' death is such delightful foreshadowing that I almost threw the book across the room when I first read it.

Achilles slumps into such a depression after Patroclus dies (really, after he kills Patroclus with his own fatal flaw), that he even loses the ability to care about his fame or honor anymore. He feels the greater grief, so to speak.

Even after he dies, Patroclus is left behind, unable to rest properly because they never put his name on the tomb. In that sense, Patroclus is then the one left behind, experiencing loneliness and grief.

The book is full of little hints like this, and that's part of why it's almost torture to read as someone who knows how the Iliad goes. As I said before: the foreshadowing in this book is meant to have the reader in pain from the beginning because you know nothing is going to work out in the end.

2. Dramatic (and regular) Irony

Yes, that's right. I'm about to rip into your soul.

Probably one of the biggest parts of classical Greek myths is dramatic irony (the audience knowing something the characters don't). In plays, the ending is almost always announced before the play begins. In fact, the audience most likely already knows the story from previous tellings or just general knowledge. It makes sense that it would be one of the biggest players in "The Song of Achilles."

As usual, let's start with a quote:

His eyes opened. "Name one hero who was happy." I considered. Heracles went mad and killed his family; Theseus lost his bride and father; Jason's children and new wife were murdered by his old; Bellerophon killed the Chimera but was crippled by the fall from Pegasus' back. "You can't." He was sitting up now, leaning forward. "I can't." "I know. They never let you be famous and happy." He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret." "Tell me." I loved it when he was like this. "I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it." "Why me?" "Because you're the reason. Swear it." "I swear it," I said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes. "I swear it," he echoed. We sat like that a moment, hands touching. He grinned. "I feel like I could eat the world raw."

First of all: cute. Second of all: wow, so much pain.

As you know, Achilles is the opposite of happy at the end of the book (well, maybe after they die, but we'll get to that later). Though he swears it here with Patroclus, the two of them make decisions that ultimately lead to their downfall: Achilles decides to abandon the Greeks after they slighted his honor, Patroclus decides to help them even if it means risking his life, and Achilles lets him do it.

So let's talk about dramatic irony. The irony here is that you know, maybe just from this exchange alone, that Achilles isn't going to be the first happy hero. You know there is a war coming, know that Achilles and his famous heel will get himself killed. You might also know at this point that Patroclus will die first and send Achilles spiraling into grief before that happens.

It's painful, truly. Achilles spends his last days in utter agony, wanting to die but unable to kill himself, and Patroclus can only watch on as a ghost (spirit?). Even when Achilles does die and his ashes are put into their urn (seriously, how did any scholar ever think they weren't lovers?), they still have to wait to be reunited.

But there's still more. Consider these lines:

Hector's eyes are wide, but he will run no longer. He says, "Grant me this. Give my body to my family, when you have killed me." Achilles makes a sound like choking. "There are no bargains between lions and men. I will kill you and eat you raw."

Sound familiar? That's right: "I will kill you and eat you raw" sounds an awful lot like "I feel like I could eat the world raw," doesn't it? Another parallel from Miller: one from a time of happiness, the other from a time of extreme grief. However painful it is, I really live for connections like that.

And I've got one more for you:

Achilles shook his head. "Never. He is brave and strong, but that is all. He would break against Hector like water on a rock. So. It is me, or no one." "You will not do it." I tried not to let it sound like begging. "No." He was quiet a moment. "But I can see it. That's the strange thing. Like in a dream. I can see myself throwing the spear, see him fall. I walk up to the body and stand over it." Dread rose in my chest. I took a breath, forced it away. "And then what?" "That's the strangest of all. I look down at his blood and know my death is coming. But in the dream I do not mind. What I feel, most of all, is relief." "Do you think it can be prophecy?" The questions seemed to make him self-conscious. He shook his head. "No. I think it is nothing at all. A daydream." I forced my voice to match his in lightness. "I'm sure you're right. After all, Hector hasn't done anything to you."

See where I'm going with this? I don't think I need to explain this one.

3. Fatal Flaws

That's right, one of the most essential pieces for a tragedy: hamartia. For those who might not know, hamartia is the fatal flaw that ultimately leads to the downfall of a tragic hero or heroine. In every single piece of classical greek writing, if the story is a tragedy, the main character will have a fatal flaw that makes it so.

Take Achilles:

I looked at the stone of his face, and despaired. “If you love me-”

“No!” His face was stiff with tension. “I cannot! If I yield, Agamemnon can dishonor me whenever he wishes. The kings will not respect me, nor the men!” He was breathless, as though he had run far. “Do you think I wish them all to die? But I cannot. I cannot! I will not let them take this from me!”

You probably already know what his fatal flaw is: pride. He needs the fame, needs the glorious memory of his deeds to live on forever, so badly that he is willing to sacrifice his life and what might’ve been a fulfilling and long life with Patroclus out of the limelight. His fatal flaw is what spurs each of his actions in the later half of the book, including the moment where he decides to leave the Greeks to their deaths for slandering him.

Even Patroclus has a fatal flaw: his love for Achilles.

That night I lay in bed beside Achilles. His face is innocent, sleep-smoothed and sweetly boyish. I love to see it. This is his truest self, earnest and guileless, full of mischief but without malice. He is lost in Agamemnon and Odysseus’ wily double meanings, their lies and games of power. They have confounded him, tied him to a stake and baited him. I stroke the soft skin of his forehead. I would untie him if I could. If he would let me.

Though riding into the center of the fighting, especially dressed as Achilles, will make Patroclus the prime target, he decides to do it anyway. And not out of fear for Achilles’s life; he knows how important his pride and reputation is to him, and out of desperation will do anything to keep Achilles from being devastated when it doesn’t work out for him.

(Honestly, this is the part where I start to hate Achilles for doing this to Patroclus... it’s like he doesn’t even consider Patroclus his equal and does everything without consulting him.)

Of course, Agamemnon has a fatal flaw as well. He is like the mirror image of Achilles, so proud and stubborn, righteous and arrogant. However, he is the darker image, the one that revels in taking things by force and, of course, raping women like Briseis. He serves as a poignant foil for Achilles, highlighting all the ways the traits they share can easily become corrupted. It’s part of why this novel works so well.

I hope you all enjoyed this book as much as I did. Truthfully, I did have a few problems with it, but I wanted to trying picking it apart anyway. And if you haven’t read the song of achilles... what are you doing reading these spoilers?? 

#why can you visibly see where i get tired #achilles #greek myth aesthetic #analysis #patroclus #song of achilles #greece #greek posts #not the language though #this is so long #effort #first time ive ever wanted to write an essay #dark academia #dark acadamia aesthetic #this took me three days #greek mythology #iliad #homer

[forthegothicheroine]

american psycho, the company of wolves, beauty and the beast (og disney), beauty and the beast (disney remake), tim burton's sleepy hollow, the over the garden wall miniseries, disney's legend of sleepy hollow (lmao i want it to be fall so bad), sofia coppola's marie antoinette, sofia coppola's the beguiled, the innocents, fire walk with me, crimson peak, coppocula

Hoo boy! Stuffing this big series of answers below the cut.

American Psycho:

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

Love it! I don't think the book would do it for me (I don't do well with graphic torture) but I thought the movie did a good job of showing us the kind of things he was doing, while also leaving enough ambiguity even before the twist at the end, and letting us sympathize with his depression (even if he can't name it) while also making him deeply unpleasant.

The Company of Wolves:

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

Do I like it as a big feminist statement? Honestly, not really- there's no sympathy for any women who aren't Rosalie or maybe her mother, and I think we are supposed to be conflicted over whether the choice she makes at the end is the right one. Do I like it as an exploration of an adolescent female id? Absolutely. Sex and violence and terror and quests are all on her mind and are all equally awful and thrilling, and Rosalie wants what's bad for her and isn't sure it's actually bad for her and the balance of power is always see-sawing and the whole thing feels like the most amazing dream.

Beauty and the Beast (original):

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

I thought the Beast was too mean when I was a little kid and forming my Disney opinions- I might actually like it more now. This is probably why I like the Cocteau version, even though what he does is basically still just as bad, because at least he's not a dick about it (and Panna a nevtor, which plays it all for gothic horror.)

Sleepy Hollow:

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

In retrospect, this one shows a lot of the problems that would later kill my love for Tim Burton, but it's still a lot of fun. The Hessian is genuinely scary, Johnny Depp is mugging a bit but it's not as bad as it would eventually get, and I want all the dresses.

Over the Garden Wall:

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

Pure distilled autumn in its aspects of both harvest and death, fun and fear. It's a world based on vintage Halloween postcards and fairytales that don't actually exist but feel like they do. I love every character, and that momentary flash where we see what the Beast looks like haunts my nightmares. My only caveat is that I do sometimes have to tell other people to keep watching after Schoolyard Follies, there will be a plot I promise!

Disney's Legend of Sleepy Hollow:

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

I think this is one of those where I never saw the whole thing, just the main song on one of those Best of Disney compilation videos. I'll at least give it credit for preserving the original story rather than making the Headless Horseman actually real (which I think most adaptations do because frankly the original story isn't long enough for feature length.)

Marie Antoinette:

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

This seems like one of those movies where you've supposed to get into the mood of the music and the visuals more so than the plot or characters? I can get into that.

The Beguiled:

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

I still don't know if I want to see this or not! The concept sounds cool and creepy, but I don't like the idea that these ladies are the good guys. Or maybe I'm wrong and nobody's supposed to be a good guy? Or maybe I should watch the grimier original since I unfortunately find young Clint Eastwood hot?

The Innocents:

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

I'm personally of the opinion that the ghosts in The Turn of the Screw were real (it's just that screaming at a child is not a good way to exorcise them), but the deliberate ambiguity/unreliability of this version is also creepy in its own way. It's a much darker ghost story that you'd get from most big studio films of the time, certainly.

Fire Walk With Me:

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

This really did a good job of portraying its protagonist as a real person rather than just an object of clinical observation or perverse whimsy (which I think Twin Peaks the Return fell into.) It's just so heartbreakingly sensitive and Sheryl Lee does such a good job of portraying Laura as both kind and mean, loving and hateful, and absolutely the victim of someone she should have been able to trust. And then the end, where Cooper is smiling gently at her and the angel has come back and she's laughing in relief? Oh my god.

Crimson Peak

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

I didn't love this as much as I thought I would (maybe because I was spoiled about what was up with the Sharpes, or maybe because I didn't like the implication that Edith should have gone with the nice boy best friend she didn't love) but I'd still say it's a good entry in the gothic romance genre. Stunning clothes and scenery, great actors, scary ghosts, an ending open enough for fanfiction. If I picked this up as an Avon Satanic Gothic at a thrift store, I'd definitely be happy!

Coppocula (Bram Stoker's Dracula)

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece

Oof. I don't want to be a snob about this. I've definitely liked Dracula movies that were wackier or dumber than this (looking at you, 2004 BBC version!) This one just breaks my heart because there's so much talent on display and I just. fucking. hate it! That soundtrack deserved a better movie. That red dress deserved a better movie. All the characters deserved better writing. Whenever someone tells me they love this movie, I have to nod and say that it's certainly beautiful looking, because I don't want to be a terrible gatekeeper, and if it was an original vampire story it might well be a guilty pleasure of mine. I just fucking hate it. On the bright side, it did give us Vlad the Poker in the What We Do in the Shadows movie, a pitch-fucking-perfect parody of Gary Oldman's Dracula, and the Nadja/Gregor plot in the What We Do in the Shadows tv show, a pitch-fucking-perfect deconstruction of the reincarnated wife trope.

[proxyflans]

Novel Excerpts Compilation and More!

Happy Magical Girl Monday!

I’ve been a bit busy with classes, but as I promised on the previous Magical Girl Monday, under the cut I’ve created a compilation of excerpts that were prompted by Tumblr users. (And my ask box is still open, so if you want you can send in more prompts!)

Before we get into that, though, there’s a few things I want to go over!

First, here’s a link to a Trello board that I made so you can follow along with my progress on the light novel! I will update it whenever I make major progress. At the moment, it’s organized so each list represents a chapter, and each list has one card that has the chapter’s current word count out of my goal (8000 words). However, I might change the way it’s organized if I think of a better way.

The 8000 words per chapter isn’t a hard goal—I want to get close to it so the chapters are roughly the same length, but I’m fine with it being a little under or a little over. For example, chapters one and four are very close to 8000, but aside from a little editing, I consider them to be pretty much done since they hit all the points I need them to.

Once the story is written and edited, I’m going to design the cover and maybe a few single page illustrations, work on the interior formatting, and sell the final product in eBook formats on Itch.

What about the game itself?

The game is currently on the back burner until the first novel is finished, since most of the cutscenes will come from the novel. Doing this will improve my workflow, since I’ll have a collection of chapters to use as reference for the game instead of working on them side-by-side.

However, I’m highly tempted to switch over to a version of RPG Maker for the main game, most likely MZ. Creating cutscenes from scratch in GameMaker Studio is very frustrating. I downloaded the trial for RPG Maker MZ (RMMZ), and while I wasn’t able to utilize it every day that I had access to the trial, there was a big difference in the workflow when it comes to creating cutscenes—really wish that I had used a version of it from the start, especially for my Capstone.

One major difference may be the battles—I know I’ve said before that the current iteration of the battle system will be the last one, with no more changes, BUT this was when I was coding the entire thing from the ground up.

The built in system in RMMZ is very similar to what I currently have in GMS, but the issue that I’m seeing is I wouldn’t be able to use my current sprites without a lot of JavaScript behind the scenes. I’m familiar with JavaScript, but a little rusty when it comes to creating my own stuff. That being said, I feel like my focus with TMGiP has been with the story more than the battle system, so I feel that as long as the story branches properly and the cutscenes work, I’ll be happy with the outcome.

Thank you for following the stories’/games’ development! If you like what you see, reblog, comment, and share with your friends and anyone else who you think needs some magical girl positivity in their lives!

You can find all links on the PROXYFLANS Linktree! (Until all the download keys are taken, I won’t make The Magical Girl in PROXY a public download.)

Thank you all, and I hope you have a flantastic day! 🍮

🍮PROXYFLANS🍮

Rose emoji responses (out of context lines):

“Ya mean, after wanting to be a magical girl—for, like, my entire life—I get a piece of paper?“

“Takako. Why are we here? Why is everything teeth?“

“Your name is Takako! So I shortened it to Tako, ’cause your hair reminds me of an octopus!”

“Trinket machine’s broken.”

“Until she shows up again and hurls a rock at a villain, I’m calling it that her power is over plants.”

“Call me when there’s someone who has the power to rip out their heart and throw it at someone. Ha, that’s the closest you’d get to the ‘power of love’ in real life.” “Wow, what a romantic,” Tsubasa chimed in.

I had given Tsubasa my flan cup, “out of the blue” as she put it—and now I regretted not bringing another cup to distract me from socializing.

Before Tsubasa could answer, Masuyo placed their pad down on my desk and hugged Miku from the side, nuzzling her neck.

Character type submission:

An oddball with a heart of gold. This could describe a few of the characters from The Magical Girl in PROXY to some extent, but if I had to choose one I’d say… Minami Tsubasa, the magical girl of wind (later named “Wind Mystery”) A former member of the Paranormal Club, Tsubasa left because she is a firm believer that aliens are real, and that they’ve visited her and told her that they don’t like being lumped in with the paranormal. Tsubasa also has a lot of strange dreams that she talks about extensively with no filter to her friends, to the point that in the first episode Nana says the water droplets are like “something out of one of Tsubasa’s weird dreams.” She is the first one to stand up to Aki and her clique when they close in on Takako. Tsubasa is determined to befriend everyone she comes across when possible, but is most loyal to her small circle of friends. When Takako tells her about her Flan Girl theory (that Tsubasa might be Flan GIrl), Tsubasa accepts that she may have a past life that she doesn’t remember, and wants to help Takako regain her memories.

Song lyric submission:

You were always by my side, not anymore / Now the distance between us, is that of 3 meters (I miss you no 3 meters, translation via the Boueibu Wiki) I’ve been thinking about how to answer this: There are two separate scenarios in The Magical Girl in PROXY that this could relate to, but I don’t want to reveal the singer and the subject of the lyrics for both groups, since that’d reduce some of the tension for future plot developments… So without saying if they’re the singer or subject, and without saying who the other character in the scenario is: This lyric reminds me of Hikari and Chou.

#magical girl #anime #video games #indie #gamedev #mahou shoujo #magical girls #magical girl anime #mahou shoujo anime #videogames #video game #indie game dev #indie gamedev #light novel #novel #writing #The Magical Girl in PROXY

[out-of-this-dimension]

FanFic Asks: D [And the World, A Little Bit Darker], O, S, Y, Z ✨👁👄👁

👁👄👁  Thank you so much for indulging me with these asks, I had a blast answering them!!!

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [And the World a Little Bit Darker]? -- Actually yes!  I wrote And the World, A Little Bit Darker to 198xAD by Mega Drive (warning, there’s a big skull with eyeballs on the cover) which was recommended to be by @saffronic!  It’s a synthwave, retro-y album and was really fun to vibe to as I wrote.  Later on, I delved into a few of their other albums but 198xAD was the main one!  I think Hardwired and 199xAD were also ones I listened to.  This was the first time I listened to a soundtrack while writing SF that was not a compilation of SF songs. (I have a SF-specific playlist that is mostly covers with some of the original OSTs from Assault and Adventures, and a bit from Dinosaur Planet.)

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters? -- Usually for my large fics, I will come up with an overall large plot point and build from there.  The story may see a few versions before I ultimately decide on one in the planning process.  Usually I feel out what seems to fit the best and just “know” when to make certain calls.  It’s a weird feeling I can’t really describe.  Like for instance, with And The World, A Little Bit Darker, I felt the need to put Silas and co into the fic because I thought it would fit well + build up to future plans nicely.  Originally, the plan was for him to beg for a spot on Eva’s brother’s ship as they headed to Venom but I didn’t feel like that would be interesting enough.  For smaller fics, they’re usually disjointed scene ideas that I just jot down and post separately because I like them but I don’t have enough material for a multi-chapter fic.  Burning Stars is a rare exception because it started out as Star Wolf running from Corneria and turned into Star Wolf fighting mobsters.  But that’s just because I realized the potential after posting the first two chapters.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist? -- Morally-grey General Pepper.  I’ve been told this trope comes from a fairly old fic that came out maybe in the early 2000s but I love it.  I have a lot of headcanons about him, particularly regarding his family, that I started to delve into with a fic called The Price We Pay but I’ve kinda run out of inspo for it lately so it’s been on the backburner.  I think having General Pepper be secretly Not So Nice and power hungry is kind of fantastic and really makes a lot of the Lylat System make sense.  It really answers why Corneria seems to have a finger in every pie and seems to be so domineering compared to other planets.

Y: A character you want to protect. -- I want to protect all of the SF cast but mostly Andrew.  As I’ve explored in my fics, I feel like Andrew is the type of character that was duped into joining the bad guys under false pretenses that they were secretly the good guys.  He feels innocent, like he really just came to get his uncle back but got wrapped into a giant insurrection instead.  

Z: Major character death–do you ever write/read it? Is there a character whose death you can’t tolerate? -- My stance on other people’s work is that I will read basically anything if it’s good.  The only thing I really don’t tend to read are ultra-fetishy fics.  I’ll even read fics with ships that I don’t personally ship if the author writes them in a way that I can appreciate and pays good tribute to the characters.  With major character death fics, I’m kind of the same way.  If the author does it in a way that feels appropriate and flows well with the story, I will read it.  I have a fic flagged for Major Character Death atm (I just posted it today lol) but it’s for a different fandom.  I don’t typically write fics like that but I’m not opposed to them.  I would say, though, that the deaths I can’t tolerate for SF fics are Pigma, Andrew, and Panther, who I feel get killed off way too frequently because the author doesn’t know what to do with them and views them as joke characters.  Usually if I read a fic and that happens in the first few chapters, red flags go off in my head.

#long post #fic talk #tropes #fic tropes #ty so much for this i had so much fun aaaah #it gave me a chance to talk about sad monke and i love sad monke.... #naytile

[blackaquokat]

The Song You Might Have Been (Chapter 4)

Link to Chapter 1 and Chapter 3 here!

A/N: TW for another attempted murder. Plus a fistfight. Because our leading characters are emotionally constipated morons.

---

Funnily enough, the next attempt for your life has nothing to do with your framed case. Which is both a good and bad thing.

Good because a paid assassin is more difficult to sniff out and is financially motivated to really ensure the job is done. Not to mention is more talented at getting away with murder.

Bad because at the moment you’re staring at Newman and three other lackies behind him. They have cornered you in the empty laundry room. Newman is brandishing a shiv sharpened from a toothbrush. You recognize two of his companions as criminals you prosecuted: one for murder and another for drug dealing.

“No one here to protect you now, huh, Eagle?” Newman sneers. “Which means we can cut you up however you want and no one will be any the wiser.”

You swing your arms back and forth casually before putting them behind your back. While you try to slyly get a grip on the large measuring cup of bleach on the table behind you, you speak up. “You’re really tempting fate here, aren’t you? Or are you telling me that Yancy gave you the all-clear to kill me after assigning me a bodyguard rotation?”

The Murderous inmate--Jerry Carson, you remember--pales three shades and turns on Newman. “Wait, hold on, this drip is still under Yancy’s protection? What the hell are you playing at, Newman? I don’t wanna be on Yancy’s shit list!”

Inmate-You-Don’t-Recognize nods frantically in agreement. “I only agreed to this because I was promised more cigarettes, but going against Yancy is suicide!”

(How are these guys so clueless? It’s not like it’s a secret that the gang has been joined to your hip for this long. Or is the rest of the prison under the impression that you’re just an unfortunate tag-along trying to kiss your way up the ladder?)

“Cowards, the lot of you!” Newman snaps. He turns back to you. “Not that I need help killing you. You’re just an attorney. What are you gonna do, throw the book at me?”

You let a sinister smile crawl across your face. “Maybe not the book.”

Newman’s eyes narrow into slits and he lunges for you--only to reel back screaming when you throw the bleach in his eyes.

You drop the cup and charge around him while he flails and furiously wipes at his face. To your surprise, none of the lackeys try to grab you as you escape.

On your way out of the room, you run smack into someone and start flailing when arms hold you in place.

“Whoa, whoa there, Eagle!” Once you hear Jimmy’s voice, you calm down and he releases you. “What’s your hurry?”

“They were about to be a pincushion.”

Jimmy turns to address, much to your surprise, the Drug Dealing inmate who had been suspiciously silent during the whole exchange. Declan Millard, you finally remember. 

“You the guy who let Bam-Bam know this was going down?”

Declan nods and winks at you. “Not that I have any fuzzy feelings for you, Eagle, but my lawyer informed me that you were pretty generous about my sentencing.”

“Considering I learned you discouraged dealing to the younger kids in the neighborhood you were in,” you respond automatically, more than a little stunned at this turn of events, “and that you gave up other dealers during the trial, it seemed like the fair thing to do.”

“Not many lawyers are fair, Eagle,” Declan reminds you. “I’d hate to deprive the world of the only one I know.”

“I see I missed the fun.” The three of you turn again and there’s Yancy, once again appearing out of nowhere. His arms are crossed, leaving his forearm tattoo in full view. He looks more lethal than you’ve ever seen him. 

“Not quite, boss.” Declan jerks a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the laundry room where they can all still hear Newman screaming and swearing. “The other two didn’t quite know what they were getting into, but Newman did.”

Yancy nods and cracks his knuckles. He puts a hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t youse go relax in your bunk for a bit? Jimmy and I can take care of this ourselves.”

“Just Newman,” you say, suddenly. “He’s the only one who tried to hurt me.”

“And he was paid for his efforts with a face full of bleach,” Declan reports in a gleeful tone. “It was an impressive sight.” He looks you up and down impressively. “You keep surprising me, Eagle.”

“Yes, yes, they’re very surprising,” Yancy repeats dismissively. “Clear out, Declan. Eagle, back to your cell, that’s an order.”

The look you give him at that statement is enough to have him offer only a somewhat apologetic grimace before entering the laundry room with Jimmy.

You’re halfway down the hall before you hear a loud scream that cuts off into a gurgle only moments later.

---

You go back to your cell, simply because you don’t have anything better to do besides work on another letter to send to the legislature, but when you get there, you almost think you’ve gotten horribly mixed up.

“Um…”

Your cell is completely redecorated. There’s a small white wire tea table with matching chairs and a vase with lovely yellow flowers. Your second set of prison clothes are hanging on various clotheslines. There’s a tiny nightstand with a lamp by your bed, which has new sheets, a comforter, and two more fluffy pillows. Toiletries, of all things, sit in a neat section on the back of and next to the toilet. There’s even an adorable little potted tree with white leaves (that one is probably fake). Someone even put a goddamn fur rug next to the bunk with a pair of slippers. Slippers, for God’s sake.

You’re still gaping at all of this contraband, which makes the cell seem almost decadent in its furnishings, when you hear a low laugh behind you and whirl around to see Heap-Ass deliver you a casual salute before leaving.

“Why the tree?” you blurt out first, because apparently that is the strangest thing in this room and not the goddamn fur rug and furry pillow.

“The boss loves trees,” Heap-Ass yells back.

“Thanks!” you hurry to say before he gets out of earshot. Reverently, you sit at the wire table, where your writing supplies and paper and even a brand new leather bound notebook awaits you, and get started on another letter.

What alternate dimension have I fallen into?

When Yancy returns, his hands suspiciously cleaner than they normally are, you ask him if the refurbishings were his doing. You’ve moved from the table to your bed, curled under the blankets, the lamp switched on, and have now moved onto writing notes in your notebook. It’ll be easier to keep lists of requests in this rather than whatever scraps of paper you can get your hands on.

He shrugs at your questioning look. “Consider it a sign of gratitude for the new books. And the poetry readings youse been doing every night.”

You shut the notebook. “And you go this far for just anyone who does you favors?”

“Only I didn’t ask youse for the books, did I, Eagle?” Yancy challenges. “Did that on your own. Because youse got more fight and more brains than any other goon in this place.”

“Yancy--”

“Listen here, Eagle, I ain’t takin’ any refusal for the gift, alright? Besides, I benefit from these furnishings too.”

“You love trees, yeah, I heard.” 

You want to trust that that’s all this is, you really do. You appreciate the little things that have gone a long way to make you more comfortable, but that’s the problem. You don’t want to get comfortable. If you get comfortable, then it will be that much harder to leave.

Something tells you that that might be exactly what Yancy was hoping for. Though God knows why he’s so desperate for you to stick around.

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that my last update with Damien involved breaking down more of Merrill Byron’s operation?”

Yancy flinches and avoids your question by hopping into the top bunk. Moments later, “What makes you think I care what your soon-to-be Mayor friend has to say?”

“Because if they manage to pin any of that operation to Byron, then my name gets cleared and I can leave.” 

You can’t see his face, but Yancy’s silences can be just as telling as the nonsense he spouts off. 

“Hey, Eagle!” shouts Bam-Bam from down the hall. “You gonna read tonight or what?”

You sigh and reach for the book compilation of Edna St. Vincent Millay poetry you borrowed for the evening. “Alright, keep your shirts on, guys. I’ll only be reading three tonight, don’t get comfortable.”

You’re looking forward to a night of sleep that won’t involve shivering. Turns out the mattress was replaced too, and you are equally looking forward to not feeling springs stab into your back and sides.

---

You never give up, really. 

But by the time Week Nine in Happy Trails Penitentiary begins, you start to feel discouraged.

Not that anyone else really gets why. You’ve been perfectly happy organizing the new books and teaching the first few inmate volunteers the Dewey Decimal System so that they can locate and sort the books easier. All those years of trying to pay your way through University as the local librarian are really paying off now. Not that it didn’t pay off before. 

“Is it really so bad here?” Jimmy asks you in the yard one day. He’s smuggled bread rolls for the entire gang (which does include you now, you guess). “I mean, I know the hooch wine doesn’t do much for you, but we can always sneak the whiskey out of the warden’s office! Or Heap-Ass can get you some bourbon from the outside.”

“I appreciate the offer, Jimmy.” You swallow a bite of your roll before continuing. “But honestly, I...I can’t stay.”

“Why not?” Tiny insists. She’s clutching the copy of the Velveteen Rabbit to her chest. “Who’s going to run the library if you leave?”

“I can train you guys before I leave, or I can come back after I get out and help you set the rest up.” You scootch closer to Tiny. You would like to put your arm around her, but the last time you attempted physical comfort with her, she held a fork-shiv to your throat. “Look, I’m not going to just forget about you guys, okay? I’ve never had this many friends in my life. I plan on setting up a volunteer system here so I can come by whenever the hell I want.”

Tiny’s tentative smile fades into wide-eyed concern, suddenly, when she looks over your shoulder.

“Oh, sure youse will.” 

You spin around in surprise and, sure enough, there’s Yancy. Seriously, you might need to put a bell around his neck. 

“You think youse the first person to come in, get released, and never come back?” Yancy challenges. He saunters up to you not unlike a predatory cat. “Why don’t youse just admit that we’re not good enough for you?”

“What, just because I don’t want to sit in here while what little reputation I have with the public gets dragged through the mud?!” You toss your roll behind you as you approach Yancy and listen to some of the gang hurry to catch and call dibs on it. “While a killer goes free and strikes again to clean up loose ends? While my mom sits home alone, worried about me? She already went through losing my dad and my brother, do you think--”

“I told youse on Day One, Eagle,” Yancy snaps, “the past ain’t to be trifled with. If youse’s mum supposedly ‘cares’ about you so much, why’s she not visited? Some loving ma you’ve got there--”

“Because I told her not to, you idiot!”

Yancy freezes mid-accusatory finger point. “Youse--what?”

You look around and get close enough for no one else but Yancy to hear you. The two of you are already drawing eyes to your positions. “Do you think I want my mom to see me like this? She knows I could die in here, I know I could still die in here, and I don’t want her last memory of me to be one where I’m covered in blood and bruises and cuts, she already had to see me like that when I was in high school.”

“Every story I hear about youse’s life on the outside depresses the hell out of me, but that’s besides the point.” The anger in his voice is barely contained. “How about we talk about the fact that youse plan to leave the family here behind? What, youse didn’t like the cell renovations we made after your Nightly Poetry Reading?”

“Yes, I love the comfortable mattress and fur rug and the lamp and the non-itchy, non-bloodstained blankets that keep me warm at night, but Yancy, I can’t stay. Even if we catch the guy who put a hit out on me, who’s to say I won’t get a shiv in the back by someone who doesn’t want their parole? You think I don’t hear you telling other inmates about that little tactic? You’re not quiet at all about it!”

“I was hoping you’d get the hint, Eagle! We don’t want you to go! Do youse really think I’d let anyone kill you?”

“I don’t know what to think of you, Yancy!” you finally shout back. 

As soon as the words leave your lips you realize just how true they are. This man has both rescued you and killed for you and called you ridiculous names and comforted you and plotted the deaths of inmates and guards in front of you and it honestly has turned you in circles because despite all of that, despite your moral compass, you really like this complicated mess of a man. 

But this is not the time to unpack this increasingly weird relationship you have with him. “Yancy, can you really look me in the eye and promise that I won’t get killed in here?”

Yancy’s mouth opens and closes several times before eventually he shoves you away from him, as if that’ll distract you from the hurt in his eyes. “I shoulda guessed that the Legal Eagle would get too high and mighty for us jailbirds!”

“Yancy--”

“Youse just like my dad! Standing there and judging me like youse think you know better, like youse so much better than me just because youse’s hands are clean?!” He puts his fists up. “Why don’t you get them dirty for once?”

Oh, this bastard. He’s going to make you do it, isn’t he? He’s really going to make you fight him. You put your arms on your hips. “Yancy, stop, you’re being ridiculous--”

He aims a punch at your face and you block it on instinct. You repeat his name but he just tries to hit you again, so that time you block his fist and manage to land a blow to his abdomen.

Fine. Let’s do this.

Yancy may be a rather talented inmate scrapper with a great right hook (you learn a moment later as your eye pulses in pain) but you’ve also boxed three times a week for half your life (because you needed some kind of extracurricular outlet to deal with the frustration of being a non-white academic overachiever) and have learned how to defend yourself pretty damn well.

By the time the fight gets anywhere, your eye is blackening and blood is running from your nose, while Yancy’s sporting several cuts on his face and a split lip. You manage to land several hits in a row before knocking Yancy back in a daze.

“Stand. Down,” you order in a growling tone. 

It’s the first and only time you have given anyone here a real command, and you are certainly in no mood for anyone to test the raging anger and frustration lashing underneath your skin just because this idiot that you can’t get out of your head doesn’t know how to talk about his issues like a healthy human being.

(The more rational part of your mind is willing to acknowledge that judging by the rumors about his childhood, there are reasons behind his inability to deal with people in a different capacity, but the rational part of your mind is currently tied up and locked in a trunk until further notice.)

Yancy stares back at you, blood dripping from his lip and staining his shirt. The fury is still brimming in his eyes, but you think you can catch a glimmer of reluctant respect and something else. Something...sad.

But you’re no longer in any mood to read into Yancy’s odd, conflicting behavior. It’s a miracle that none of the guards came to break the two of you apart. You have no intention of pushing your luck.

You push through the crowd that had gathered to watch this unprecedented event and leave the yard, praying that people think the tears running down your face are from your injuries.

---

Link to Chapter 5 here!

Thank you for reading! Please relbog/comment! If you want to be tagged/untagged for the rest of this series or this pairing, please leave a message in my inbox!

@starcrossedforever87 , @dontworryaboutanything , @beereblogsstuff , @falseroar , @intemperantiae , @memetoyoko , @soul-wolf , @marki-dumb , @withjust-a-bite , @raimeyl , @scribbeetle , @its-dari , @neverisadork , @silver-owl413 , @sassy-in-glasses , @chelseareferenced , @sketchy-scribs-n-doods , @axolittle-boi , @wildfandom , @shrinkthisviolet , @purple-anxiety-blog , @conceitedink , @skidspace

#kat writes #ahwm yancy #ahwm #y/n district attorney #wkm #a heist with markiplier #who killed markiplier #emotionally charged fistfights are a weakness of mine #also because it's me #next chapter makes everything fifty times worse

[gra-sonas]

Down to Earth With Tyler Blackburn

I‘ve never met Tyler Blackburn before—except that I have. Maybe it would be more accurate to say I’ve met versions of Tyler Blackburn. I’ve spent time with the actor on multiple occasions while covering his TV series Pretty Little Liars, the soapy teen-centered murder mystery that regularly generated more than a million tweets throughout its seven-season run. Just two weeks ago I reconnected with him in a lush meadow of flowering mustard outside Angeles National Forest, the site of his PLAYBOY photo shoot. But the Tyler Blackburn I’m meeting today at his home in the Atwater Village neighborhood of Los Angeles is in many ways an entirely different man.

When he greets me at the front door, Blackburn is relaxed, barefoot and still wearing what appears to be bed head. His disposition is unmistakably freer—lighter—than it’s been during our previous encounters. Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised by this. Six days earlier the 32-year-old actor came out publicly as bisexual in an online interview with The Advocate.

The announcement is clearly at the forefront of his mind as we sit down at his dining room table.

Almost immediately he starts to gush about the positive, and at times overwhelming, feedback he has received over the past few days. Within minutes he’s in tears. He tries to lighten the mood with a self-effacing quip, but now I’m in tears too. Then he tells me he can’t remember my question.

I haven’t even asked one yet, I reply.

“It just makes me feel, Wow, the world’s a little bit safer than I thought it was,” Blackburn says.

The most affecting response he’s received thus far has been from his father, whom Blackburn didn’t meet until he was five years old. Although he avoids offering any more details about that early chapter, he says, “Feeling like I’m a little bit different always made me wonder if he likes me, approves of me, loves me. He called, and it was just every single thing you would want to hear from your dad: ‘That was a bold move. I’m so proud of you.’ It was wild.”

Blackburn can’t pinpoint the exact moment he knew he was bisexual but says he was curious from the age of 16. It wasn’t until two years ago, though, that he decided to approach his publicity team about coming out publicly. At that point, Pretty Little Liars had wrapped, and the actor was without a job. So Blackburn and his team agreed they needed to hold off on making an announcement until his career was stable again. The lack of resolution weighed on him. “A year ago I was in a very bad place,” he says, adding that he has struggled with depression and anxiety. “I didn’t know what my career was going to be or where it was going. My personal life—my relationship with myself—was in a really bad place.” His casting on the CW’s Roswell, New Mexico, adapted from the same Melinda Metz book series as the WB’s 1999 cult favorite Roswell, seems to have come at the right time. Blackburn portrays Alex, a gay Army veteran whose relationship with Michael, a bisexual alien, has attracted legions of “Malex” devotees since the show’s January debut. Roswell, New Mexico has already been renewed for a second season—a feat for any series in this era of streaming, let alone one involving gay exophilia. Playing a character whose queerness has been so widely embraced by fans no doubt nudged Blackburn closer to revealing his truth for the first time since becoming an actor 15 years ago. (As he told The Advocate, “I’m so tired of caring so much. I just want to…feel okay with experiencing love and experiencing self-love.”) Still, he was somewhat reluctant. His hesitation was rooted in the fact that he wouldn’t be able to control what came next: the social pressures that often come with being one of the first—in his case, one of the first openly bisexual male actors to lead a prime-time television series. “If you stand for this thing, and you say it publicly, there’s suddenly the expectation of ‘Now your job is this,’ ” he says. “Even if someone’s like, ‘Now you’re going to go be the spokesperson’—well, no. If I don’t want to, I don’t want to. And that doesn’t mean I’m a half-assed queer.” Full disclosure: I previously wrote for a Pretty Little Liars fan site. In 2012 I published a listicle that ranked the show’s hottest male characters. Blackburn cracks up when I tell him this and wants to know whether he bested Ian Harding, his former co-star. After I inform him that his character (hacker with a heart of gold Caleb Rivers) finished second behind Harding’s (Ezra Fitz, a student-dating teacher) I promise to organize a recount. The always-modest Blackburn concedes that Harding is the rightful winner. (If anyone ever compiles a BuzzFeed article titled “Most Embarrassing Moments for Former Bloggers,” I’ll be offended if I’m not in the mix.)

Blackburn makes it clear that he has not always been comfortable with his status as a teen heartthrob. Knowing he was queer made it “hard to embrace it and enjoy it.” Growing up, he was bullied for being perceived as effeminate and was frequently subjected to slurs and homophobic jokes. He describes himself as a late bloomer who took longer than usual to shed his baby fat. He didn’t have many friends, nor did he date much in high school. A lifelong fan of musical theater and the performing arts, Blackburn signed with a Hollywood management company at the age of 17. His team at the time warned him that projecting femininity would hinder his success. An especially painful moment came after he’d auditioned for a role as a soldier and the producers wrote back that Blackburn had seemed “a little gay.” “Those two managers were so twisted in their advice to me,” Blackburn says. “They just said, ‘We don’t care if you are, but no one can know. You can’t walk into these rooms and seem gay. It’s not gonna work.’ I remember the shame, because I’ve been dealing with the feeling that I’m not a normal boy for my entire life.” After landing a recurring role on Days of Our Lives in 2010, Blackburn scored his big break when he appeared midway through the first season of Pretty Little Liars. “I was in Tyler’s first scene, so I got to be one of the first to work with him,” Shay Mitchell, who starred opposite Blackburn, tells PLAYBOY. “Right away, I knew he was special. Since the day I met him, Tyler always struck me as very authentic and very true to himself.” Fans instantly adored his on-screen love affair with Hanna Marin, played by Ashley Benson. The pair became known as “Haleb,” and Blackburn went on to win three Teen Choice Awards—surfboard trophies that solidify one’s status as a teen idol—in categories including Choice TV: Chemistry.

According to Blackburn, during the show’s seven years on the air, he and Benson bonded over their mutual distaste for the tabloid stardom that comes with headlining a TV phenomenon lapped up by teens. Today he fondly reflects on their on-camera chemistry. “It felt good,” he says. “It felt real.” Of course, rumors swirled that the pair’s romance was actually quite real. “We never officially dated,” he tells me. “In navigating our relationship—as co-workers but also as friends—sometimes the lines blurred a little. We had periods when we felt more for each other, but ultimately we’re good buds. For the most part, those rumors made us laugh. But then sometimes we’d be like, ‘Did someone see us hugging the other night?’ She was a huge part of a huge change in my life, so I’ll always hold her dear.” Blackburn also shares a unique connection with Mitchell outside their friendship. Similar to what Blackburn is now experiencing with Roswell, Mitchell was embraced by the LGBTQ community for playing a lesbian character, Emily Fields, whose same-sex romances on Pretty Little Liars were among the first on ABC Family (the former name of the Freeform network). Over the years, Blackburn had come out to select members of the Pretty Little Liars cast and crew, including creator I. Marlene King. But as the show approached its swan song, he started to recognize how hiding a part of himself was negatively affecting his life. He entered his first serious relationship with a man while filming the show’s final season. Not knowing how to tell co-workers—or whether to, say, invite his boyfriend to an afterparty—caused him to “go into a little bit of a shell” on the set.

“My boyfriend was hanging out with me at a Pretty Little Liars convention, and some of the fans were like, ‘Are you Tyler’s brother?’ ” Blackburn says. “He was very patient, but then afterward he was like, ‘That kind of hurt me.’ It was a big part of why we didn’t work out, just because he was at a different place than I was. Unfortunately, we don’t really talk anymore, but if he reads this, I hope he knows that he helped me so much in so many ways.” At that, Blackburn tearfully excuses himself and takes a private moment to regain his composure. “I never remember a time when I didn’t enjoy being with him,” says Harding, Blackburn’s former co-star. He says he saw the actor “start to become the person he is now when we worked together” but believes Blackburn needed to first come to terms with the idea that he could become “the face” of bisexuality. “Tyler’s discovering a way to bring real meaning with his presence in the world,” Harding says, “as an actor and as a whole human.”

Once the teenage Blackburn realized he was attracted to guys, he began “experimenting” with men while taking care not to become too emotionally attached. “I just didn’t feel I had the inner strength or the certainty that it was okay,” he says. It wasn’t until a decade later, at the age of 26, that he began to “actively embrace my bisexuality and start dating men, or at least open myself up to the idea.” He says he’s been in love with two women and had great relationships with both, but he “just knew that wasn’t the whole story.” 

He was able to enjoy being single in his 20s in part because he wasn’t confident enough in his identity to commit to any one person in a relationship. “I had to really be patient with myself—and more so with men,” he says. “Certain things are much easier with women, just anatomically, and there’s a freedom in that.” He came out of that period with an appreciation for romance and intimacy. Sex without an emotional component, he discovered, didn’t have much appeal. “As I got older, I realized good sex is when you really have something between the two of you,” says Blackburn, who’s now dating an “amazing” guy. “It’s not just a body. The more I’ve realized that, the more able I am to be settled in my sexuality. I’m freer in my sexuality now. I’m very sexual; it’s a beautiful aspect of life.” Blackburn has, however, felt resistance from the LGBTQ community, particularly when bisexual women have questioned his orientation. “Once I decided to date men, I was like, Please just let me be gay and be okay with that, because it would be a lot fucking easier. At times, bisexuality feels like a big gray zone,” he says. (For example, Blackburn knows his sexuality may complicate how he becomes a father.) “I’ve had to check myself and say, I know how I felt when I was in love with women and when I slept with women. That was true and real. Don’t discredit that, because you’re feeding into what other people think about bisexuality.” He clearly isn't the first rising star who's had to deal with outside opinions of how to handle his Hollywood coming-out. I spoke to Brianna Hildebrand just before the release of 2018's smash hit Deadpool 2, and she explained that she had previously met with publicists who had offered to keep her sexuality under wraps, even though the actress herself had never suggested this. Meanwhile, ahead of the launch of last fall's Fantastic Beasts sequel, Ezra Miller told me that he's "been in audition situations where sexuality was totally being leveraged."

Fortunately for Blackburn, his recent experiences with colleagues have largely been supportive ones. He came out to Roswell, New Mexico showrunner Carina Adly Mackenzie when he first arrived in N.M. to shoot the pilot but after he had earned the role of Alex, which for him was the ideal sequence. "I think he takes the responsibility of being queer in the public eye very seriously, and waiting to come out was just about waiting until he was ready to share a private matter—not about being dishonest to his fans," Mackenzie tells PLAYBOY. "I have always known how important Alex is to Tyler, and I know that Tyler trusts me to do right by him, ultimately, and that’s really special." Blackburn finds it funny that he’s known for young-skewing TV shows; the question is, What might define him next? He’s grateful for his career, but he grew up wanting to make edgy dramas like the young Leonardo DiCaprio. He also cites an admiration for Miller, the queer actor who plays the Flash. “I most definitely want to be a fucking superhero one day,” Blackburn says a bit wistfully. His path to cape wearing does look more tenable. The day before his Advocate interview was posted, he booked a lead role in a fact-based disaster-survival film opposite Josh Duhamel. Blackburn jokes that his movie career was previously nonexistent, though his résumé features such thoughtful indie fare as 2017’s vignette-driven Hello Again. There, he plays a love interest to T.R. Knight, who tells PLAYBOY that Blackburn “embraces the challenge to stretch and not choose the easy path.” For now, Blackburn’s path appears to be just where he needs it to be. “I may never want to be a spokesperson in a huge way, but honestly, being truthful and authentic sets a great example,” he says. “To continue on a path of fulfillment and happiness is going to make people feel like they too can have that and it doesn’t need to be some spectacle.” As it turns out, he may already be a superhero.

- Playboy

#tyler blackburn #playboy 2019 #tjb interviews #rnm cast #roswell new mexico #happy pride 🌈 #god i love him

[humansoulsarg]

Recap - artifact555 video solve

In the early days of this blog, some of the solves weren’t documented as cleanly in one post as has become the pattern. In reviewing the solutions to Pangent’s publicly available videos, it was discovered that a few of them could use a newly compiled summary solve post. So here goes the first of those, enjoy!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vVWfnqiuVXk Binary title: artifact555 Video begins with a warning about flashing images, and whoo boy, those happen. There’s lots of shots of the cube, glitching in colors and flashing, and interspersed with possible flashes of Lottie, and some more interesting effects. The sound is also ‘interesting’. The cube is alive. There doesn’t appear to be any coded content in the video, but the description has some things worth investigating. almost-binary in the description, replace the ‘O’s and 'C’s with '0’s and '1’s to get actual binary for: xV_OQ4CQqE8

This is a YouTube ID: https://youtu.be/xV_OQ4CQqE8 - A video with binary title 'theline’, showing Lottie 'speaking’ but the audio sounds computer-generated and states:

There are some things we as a species weren’t meant to know

This video also contains some pastebin links in the description, more on those later.

Back to the text in the description of 'artifact555’:

imgur bAqfpxr

This is theoriginal MSPA ad which was the trailhead for this ARG imgur jbUD1v0

This is a nonogram, popular in those days. Can be solved manually or with tools like http://a.teall.info/nonogram/

Interpret the squares as binary:

011010110111101001110110 011000110110011101110001 011010000110001001110111 011110010111100101110101 011101000101011001101011 011000100110111001100010 011011010110101101110011 011001110111010101100011 011101100110110101101001 011011010110111101111001 011011010111001001100111 011110100111001101110001 011011000110111001100111 011001111111111111111111 kzvcgqhbwyyutVkbnbmksgucvmimoymrgzsqlngg Vigenere with key 'conscioushumansouls’ (and add spaces): i like it here it Isnt quiet can you hear the waves imgur 7Foyrsz

Kcode - read off the RGB values of each square In decimal they are: 49 53 32 104 111 117 114 115 32 102 114 111 109 32 116 104 101 32 99 101 110 116 101 114 32 111 102 32 116 104 101 32 115 111 117 114 99 101 0 15 hours from the center of the source xV_OQ4CQqE8 is a YouTube ID leading to: https://youtu.be/xV_OQ4CQqE8 unlisted video with binary title: theline Contains several Pastebin links in the description: PB CBiWsY85 https://pastebin.com/CBiWsY85 - hex title: themoth contains binary text encoded as Vigenere with key 'guineapix’ which decodes to:

I have a friend, let’s call her C. Let me talk about C for a minute. The wonderful and terrible thing about C is that she’s a moth drawn to flame. For a few years now I have supported her in everything she’s done. She’s reckless. If she were a character in a movie, she’d see an explosion and run toward it while most people are running away. She’d run into the burning building and inhale the smoke while taking notes on how it affected the building structure. And she’s probably the one who caused the fire in the first place. Metaphorically, I mean. She gets results only because she loves the danger of it. She’ll come up with a solution and write it down without knowing if it’s right or not. She’ll try it a dozen different ways, watch the entire thing fall to pieces in a dozen different, irreplaceably expensive ways. Destroy everything while taking notes on the wreckage. When she’s done she’ll clean up the mess and she’ll understand the problem on a molecular level, from the inside out. She’ll be standing in the catastrophe she created, with a thousand pages of notes on how to do it right next time. I believe she’s the greatest genius I’ll ever know. And she’s a disaster. A walking disasterpiece. Her mind makes leaps that other minds can’t, because they understand that actions have consequences. She knows that messes can be cleaned up, and systems rebuilt. So she plays with fire. Well, not every mess can be cleaned up. You can’t put toothpaste back in the tube. Now that I’ve typed that I’m not so sure. She could probably figure it out. She’d ruin a lot of tubes of toothpaste in the process. But hey, toothpaste is cheap. The Twitter archive is still broken because of her, but I suspect if she hadn’t been fired she’d have fixed it within a few days. And because of her we did figure out how to decrypt the deleted data. It’s a slow, manual process, but it’s all there in some form or another. I wonder if that was X’s plan all along, somehow. He remembered Sandy Bridge, and figured if there was smoke there there was fire. He followed a trail of clues and now he’s taken everything. It’s not C’s fault. She did what she always did. She made a mess so that we could learn something. Maybe something we shouldn’t have been messing with in the first place. There’s this object, Artifact 555, alias The Cube. I’m not going to ask where it came from or how X’s father got it, because I value my life and my career and I know that questions have consequences. I’m not going to ask what it is, either. But I don’t have to. C is asking. What I know is this: X, because he’s an asshole, sent the three of us photos of this thing. It’s hard to see and harder to look at but I’d describe it as a glass cubic box with reflective blue matter inside. When I looked at the photos of this thing, I was filled with a paralyzing fear unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Afterward I was sick for two days. Leslie was sick too. Even her cat was sick. I don’t know how that’s even possible. I don’t want to know how that’s possible. But then, I’m not a moth drawn to flame. C was at the store when she saw the photos. Just on her phone, not even on a big monitor. She fell and hit her head. E had to come and get her. She didn’t walk straight for days. Now, a normal person’s instinct would be to get the hell away from this thing, and get the hell away from X, who used it as a weapon. Another kind of woman with another kind of mind would have changed her name, left the country, called in an exorcist and dedicated her life to rejecting satan and all his ways. Instead she signed the world’s worst contract and said she’d be back to work on the second. Because she’s a moth drawn to flame. She loves the mystery and danger of meddling where she shouldn’t. I know that right now every cell in her body is screaming out wanting to know what this thing is, even if she has to burn the world down around her to understand it. Well, that’s just who she is. X knew that too. He knew that if he shouted “DANGER” at her with a megaphone and police sirens and flashing lights five hundred feet tall, she’d come running toward that kind of danger. She can’t help it. For years, I’ve supported her in everything she’s done. I hope I never have to regret that.

PB i1pxP041 https://pastebin.com/i1pxP041 - hex title: gnixob (reversed: boxing) It’s almost-binary again, replace the 'C’s and'O’s with '1’s and'0’s then reverse, then decode as binary, then Vigenere with key 'argentina’ to get:

Another question. Let’s say there’s an object. Let’s call it “an object.” I looked at a few photographs of this object and became violently ill for reasons passing understanding. It was a couple days before I could walk without worry. The others in my group had a similar reaction. Here’s the question. What happens when I see this thing in person? And work alongside it for a long period of time? What exactly happens to my sanity? Happy Boxing Day.

PB sd7MrRX5 https://pastebin.com/sd7MrRX5 - hex title: analog Contains binary, Vigenered text with key 'argentina’:

Okay, I’m calm now. The Cube reacts to electrical stimuli. It even reacts in a predictable and reproducible way, suggesting that data can be imprinted on it for later use. X’s father must have known this. Someone must have run tests, suggesting this could work for data storage, if we could only understand how it works. Well, we don’t need to understand the Cube. And it doesn’t need to understand us. We’ve been thinking of this thing as digital, thinking how can we connect to it, like it’s a hard drive. But it’s not. It’s squishy, it’s meat, it’s liquid, it’s practically a brain. It’s analog. Do you understand? When I was a kid, we had cassette tapes. We had vinyl records. A vinyl record isn’t made with digital data. Vinyl doesn’t understand and interpret the music, it’s just plastic. And the needle is just a needle. There is no artificial intelligence there. But when a song is playing, you can etch the vibrations of that song onto that dumb plastic, and the needle will react the same way to play it back again. Magnetic tape is dumb too. It doesn’t need to understand and interpret the signals being sent through it. It just needs to be able to play them back accurately. VHS tapes of movies, cassette tapes of music. Did you ever record a computer program onto a cassette tape, and then play it back? You could just play the sound, all of this whirring and beeping, and your Apple II or Commodore 64 would understand what the tape couldn’t. The original analog medium is a book. The pages of a book don’t understand the data written on them. But the writer understood, and the reader understands, and that’s enough. We don’t need to understand the Cube. We don’t access that data by plugging in a cable. We don’t learn its language and it doesn’t learn ours. It’s a book. We write something on it, and then we can read it later. So. Let’s say I set up a server which reacts to data. And we test the Cube’s reactions to the same data. And we test it and test it and change the way we deliver the data to the Cube, until the reaction matches. We don’t need to speak the Cube’s language. We just need it to react in the right way when we speak ours.

PB 18E6yhak https://pastebin.com/18E6yhak - hex title: repair Contains binary, Vigenere’d text with key 'argentina’

Questions for this Christmas, asked of nobody but myself. The first question is whether or not data can have a soul. This is a question with two possible answers, so for the sake of argument let us assume the ridiculous - that the data of a soul can be saved, and that this does not disprove the existence of the soul as a theological concept and construct. Let us say that data can have a soul. The second question is, what if that data stream becomes broken and corrupted, in the way that souls also become broken and corrupted? If we save the data, do we save the soul? And if so, do we save it in a theological sense or merely on a technical level? What exactly would we be tampering with here? It’s four AM. I’m drunk. I should go back to sleep.

#video #unlisted video #puzzle #puzzle solution #human souls arg #submission #13ago

[vapidsoup]

anxiety coping mechanisms!

hey guys lately i’ve been relapsing on my panic disorder bc i moved to a new city for uni. nowadays, i feel like i’ve improved a lot since the first day of the move, and i’d like to make a wholesome and hopefully helpful post about things that have helped me calm down during these tough times. if you suffer from anxiety, depression or panic disorders, maybe test these out and see if it helps! we should all stick together and try to help each other during our difficult moments in life, after all! Oh, and please please please feel free to add your own coping mechanisms!! i’d love to hear some more helpful advice! So, without further ado:

when i am anxious I:

Distract myself with skill-focused hobbies. When I was younger and had panic attacks, simply reading my favorite book would help calm me down. Nowadays, I can’t seem to focus on reading when I’m anxious so it’s no longer helpful. Instead, my brain needs an activity which forces it to reallocate its thought process completely, so doing something that requires focus, quick thinking or your total attention is preferable. For me, I find this in drawing, difficult video games, puzzles, or podcasts, but it could be anything that forces you to shift mental gears.

Spend time with loved ones. This one is not always helpful depending on how bad the anxiety is, but I found effective when I can feel it creeping up. Talking to your mother or father, siblings, or of course friends can also help distract from negative feelings. Don’t just talk! Do an activity together, like playing a board game, signing karaoke, even going out together if you feel bold enough. If you surround yourself with supportive and entertaining people, sometimes you may not even notice your anxiety melt away.

Consume positive media. Say you’re too antsy to leave the house or even talk to anyone. That’s totally okay. Sometimes, all you need to start feeling better is your laptop! Watching a funny show has really helped calm me down because it’s a positive experience. I find that stories and music with dark, depressing and negative tones only serve to feed my anxiety. AVOID NEGATIVE VIBES! Stand-up comedy, happy/energetic songs, or even vine compilations can help turn your mood around. During my first week alone, I rewatched 6 seasons of the office. It helped a lot, believe it or not! If you have a friend to watch it with, even better.

Mind my breathing. This is the oldest trick in the book and yet I forget to control my breathing every time. If you find yourself on the verge of or during a panic attack, take deep, regulated breaths. Don’t think about anything else. Just in. And out. In. And out. Concentrate on breathing deeply and regularly for as long as you have to.

Take a shower or bath. A surprisingly helpful trick, in my experience. Warm, soothing water can help calm you down. Washing yourself is also a good physical distraction, especially when movements are repeated, like scrubbing your hair. Lose yourself to the task!

If possible, stay in a comforting environment. This could be just me, but my thoughts are at their worst when it’s nighttime. That’s why I like to stay in a brightly illuminated space when I’m feeling bad. It’s not much, but it does help. I find great comfort in my room, so staying in my comfy bed with stuffed animals has helped calm me down.

Make stuff up! This doesn’t apply to everyone, but I have found that creation has been an excellent means of coping with anxiety. If you are the creative type (regardless of any assumed skill), I strongly encourage you to think of projects you would like to do, and develop them. Are you into writing? Try thinking of a story you would like to tell! A poem you could write! Musician? Try writing some lyrics or even compose your own piece! Artist? Daydream about your dream projects. I would personally recommend working on a story. This entails world-building, characters, plot, settings, specific scenes. most of the ideas I’ve had for stories, tv shows, video games and comic books were born and developed been during times of mental crisis. Whether it’s a script, painting, youtube video, or melody, try to unleash the creator within. It is an astoundingly effective distraction.

And most importantly,

Remember that this, too, shall pass. This simple thought has been the most important aid when dealing with my panic disorder. When I was 10, I went through a terrible time, mentally, and had panic attacks nearly every day. My mother would always tell me the story of a wise king, adored by all and renowned for his seemingly perfect mind. When asked by his subjects the secret to his leadership skills, he pointed at the ring he wore on his finger. Engraved in it were the words “this, too, shall pass.” Whenever he felt powerful and invincible, the ring reminded him to think of the future and prepare for adversities. And when he felt powerless, hopeless, alone, utterly despaired, the ring was a reminder that everything is temporary. One day, things will get better, it could even be tomorrow. So he should never give up the fight because nothing is forever. That story really resonated with me. At my worst, I have to tell myself “This will pass. These emotions are strong and seem like the end of me, but soon I’ll feel better and know that this is nothing.” And sure enough, when the panic passes (because it ALWAYS passes), I think “now I can see how much better I feel. The next time I feel anxious, I must remember how I feel right now, and know that I will feel this way again.” So, when you think the situation is hopeless, know that this, too, shall pass.

These are only some of the tricks I’ve used throughout my whole life to get through panic attacks. Notice how most of these tips are about distracting yourself from the anxiety. During panic attacks or anxious bouts, obsessing over whatever problems you may have, even if they seem urgent or inescapable, rarely helps. The goal of these exercises are to help put you in a different, more reasonable state of mind, which you can later use to tackle adversities in a realistic and healthy way. So really, it’s all about letting yourself breathe, cool down and reset.

So, I hope that this silly post has helped! I wish you all the best!

#long post #mental health #anxiety #panic #panic attack #panic disorder #depression #mental illness #coping #coping mechanism #vapidsoup

[living-dead-parker]

Costco and A Kiss - H.K

A/N: We’re switching it up around here, holy shit. So this is more of a platonic!Harley type of thing bc I don’t necessarily feel comfortable writing romantic stuff with him right now but gimme a couple months and we’ll see how I feel about things! (It’s mainly bc Ty Simpkins is 17 and I feel weird about it lmao) Also, there is WinterIron in this, it’s not the main focus but it is in focus so let’s see how that goes.  

I also need to add that heroes and Avengers are not a thing in this universe, no superpowers or anything!

Summary: Harley has a crush, and there’s a Costco trip involved.

Warnings: cussing i think, winteriron,i just pulled this out of my ass, so I’m sorry if it’s not good. Also, this is lowkey dedicated to @1-800-gotjunk bc they wished for more Harley Keener fanfic and I like to please my audience (this may or may not be my way of saying I’ll gladly take requests), and I tried keeping it gender-neutral as possible, so lemme know if I slipped up on pronouns and stuff! Also, introduction of a new character!

Word Count: 2.5k

Gif not mine and this was the only recent Ty Simpkin gif I could find. The others were obvs JP gifs or IM3 so yuhh

"Y/N, Peter, Harley, Riri!" Tony yells as he finishes compiling a list of all the foods they'd need for sure. Bucky emerged from one side of the kitchen with a list of other housing items -toilet paper, cleaning supplies, the works- that the family needs, as well as some optional stuff. Bucky hands the list over to Tony while pressing a kiss onto the older man's cheek.

"Ew, please stop!" Harley comments as the four teens walk into the large kitchen. Tony rolls his eyes and hands the list to his eldest child, Y/N.

"We need you guys to go shopping for some items for tomorrow's get together and for household stuff," Tony says as he looks over at all the kids. You're quick to nod as you put the lists into your pocket.

"Yeah, please get everything on the list, and maybe some other optional things for yourselves," Bucky chimes in, once more earning a nod from you. Harley was too lost in looking at the beautiful h/c haired beauty. Unfortunately, he could never be with them, for many reasons. The current one being age.

Bucky and Tony met three years ago, both instantly making a connection. One thing that instantly connected them was that they each had a kid and a parasite. Harley is Bucky's adopted parasite, while Riri is his biological kid. People tend to not believe it for many obvious reasons, but neither of them cared about people's comments. Y/N is Tony's biological kid, and Peter was the blood-sucking best friend who felt like Tony was a dad to him. Admittedly, Tony does love Peter like a son. The two men had been introduced by Steve a few years ago, becoming sort of friends, until they eventually got some crushes on each other. They started dating, and a year later, they've moved in together into a new and improved Stark Tower. The millionaire could never give up the luxury of his own luxurious tower. He has the money, why not?

"Got it, fatherinos," you tell the two men as you grab your phone from the kitchen counter. Harley is quick to follow behind you, following like a lost puppy. Bucky and Tony were quick to notice the boy's crush on the eldest of the group.

They'd seen all the signs. He'd get nervous around you, he'd stare for a very long time, he would be at your every whim, and he'd always be so close to you. It's cute, really. However, the two parents wouldn't dare say a thing because they want to see how it ends. Surely, there wouldn't be bad blood. Especially not for Peter and Riri's sake. Y/N is the oldest of the group, being eighteen. Peter is the second oldest, being seventeen. Meanwhile, Riri and Harley are both sixteen.

You head down to the garage area, grabbing the keys to the G Wagon on the board holding all the keys to every car. It's a black matte color and it's bigger than most of the car, so its used more often for grocery store trips. Admittedly, it's your favorite car too. You lead the way to the car.

"I call shotgun!" Harley yells as he runs over to the car. Nobody really protests, because why would they? So Harley gladly takes the passenger seat as you unlock the car. When you get in, you notice Peter sitting behind you and Riri sitting behind Harley.

The car engine roars to life, followed by the sound of the Bluetooth connecting to your phone. You hand your phone to Harley and let him pick out the music as you check all your mirrors. Once everything is perfect, you begin backing out as the sound of 7 Rings by Ariana Grande comes on. Almost in sync, everyone in the car cheers as they begin singing along to the song. Peter and Riri roll their windows down and you do too. Harley is recording everyone and putting it on Snapchat and Instagram, which you don't mind.

The drive doesn't take too long. Five songs later, they're in the parking lot and getting out of the car. Riri runs to get a cart and Peter follows behind, getting another cart. With how big the bulks are and with how much you'll be buying, you might need four in total. So when you reach the entrance, you instruct Harley to get another cart as you grab one as well. The four of you walk side by side, annoying a lot of the fellow shoppers just trying to get through.

Four teens shopping at Costco on their own was never a good idea from the beginning. Harley can't seem to steer a cart right, occasionally running over the backs of your legs or crashing his cart into Peter's. It was especially bad that Riri was making pun after shitty pun. Sure, they were really funny, but they were pretty bad. Peter was trying too hard to show off how strong he was, and your competitive side was coming out. Now it's on to see who can lift the most. So far, you've managed to pick up three cases of 24 packs of water bottles in one go. Peter rolled his eyes and stacked a fourth one on to his stack.

"Peter, we only need six cases. Put one back," you instruct. Peter sighs while grabbing one of the cases and puts it back in the display area. Harley and Riri are talking amongst themselves, laughing at something.

You've all been at the store for about half an hour now and haven't even made a dent in the list. You're only a quarter of the way done, only one basket halfway filled because they all want to be so childish. You can't put all the blame on them though since you've been slacking too.

As you approach the refrigerated area, you grab the list and grab random vegetable packs, milk, and other items on the list. Harley joins you, and when he sees you shiver, he's quick to take his jacket off and hand it to you.

"Here, you seem cold," Harley says. You smile and take it from him, thanking him as you turn back to the items you need to get. Harley watches as you grab random items. He stares as you compare certain brands or read over the names and what the items are. He can't help but stare as you put more items into the basket.

He knows having a crush on you is sort of weird, especially because at this point there's no turning back for Tony and Bucky. They're in it till the end, going the long run. So, they'd be family. They are family, just not technically. However, Harley can't help but still indulge in his little crush. He knows Y/N doesn't like him like that. He knows that your eyes are set on someone else, but he still can't help it.

The two walk out with a basket full of frozen goods and meet back up with Peter and Riri, who this time around are laughing at memes on their phones. You approach the two laughing friends and gesture in a way telling them to get a move on.

You all stay in the store for another hour before you've gotten everything on the list and some. Now you're waiting in line, looking over at the cart that Harley stands behind. Everything that was on the list managed to fit into three carts, so the last one was filled with the things that you guys wanted. Or things you know Bucky and your father would appreciate. Chocolate cake, boxes of popcorn, jugs of juice, industrial jars of Nutella, and so much more. The entire time the four of you wait in line, Riri goes on to ask and beg to stop by at Starbucks. Harley spent the entire time staring.

You knew about his little crush on you. You'd even consulted Bucky about it, asking if the young man has a crush on you. Bucky didn't even try to hide it. It's so obvious. Neither of you are sure on how Peter and Riri haven't suspected a thing. You notice how he stares dreamily, he blushes when you look up at him. The way he texts back immediately, the hearts around your name in his phone. How happy he got when he saw the heart at the end of his name in your phone. You wouldn't dare crush him by admitting everyone you care about has a heart at the end. Harley's is yellow. Peter's is blue, Riri's is purple, Bucky's is green, and your father has a red and black heart at the end of it. Right by your best friend, Matt, you have a big red heart, but you wouldn't tell Harley that.

When everything has been loaded up into the car, you begin the drive to the nearest Starbucks. Upon pulling up to the window, everyone bombards you with their orders. You can only focus on so much, so you get their order one by one until every order has been taken. You pull up, pay, deflect every flirtatious comment from the girl behind the window, and take your drinks.

"Looks like someone got a number!" Peter says as he accidentally grabs the receipt. You roll your eyes and toss the now crumpled receipt somewhere in the back of the car. The drive back home is short but once you've pulled up, your phone begins to ring.

"It's dad," you say, seeing Tony's number pop up on screen. You grab your phone as you unbuckle yourself and answer the call. "Yes?"

"Hey kiddo, I need you to run to the nearest drug store and buy some Pepto and some anti-diarrheas. Maybe some Gatorade and some crackers."

"Is Bucky sick or is it you?" you ask as you hop out the car, noticing Riri and Peter begin taking things inside. Harley is missing, so he's most likely inside already.

"Buck, he ate some old takeout leftovers. Can you please go?" Tony asks.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna wait on Harley to come back down so I can take him with me, probably gonna talk to him."

"Time to let him down?" Tony asks softly. He was the first to suspect his crush.

"Yeah, can't let him go on with as much hope as he has. It's unfair."

"Well, good luck kid. Please hurry though. Buck is dying here. Surprised he doesn't have projectile coming from both end-"

"Ew dad!" you screech as Tony begins to giggle. You hang up when you see Harley coming back with Peter and Riri in tow.

"H, we're going to Walgreens or something, come on. Pete, Ri, can you guys take all the stuff back in? Don't forget we have the pallet jack, just pile things on it and take it."

The two teens nod and go over to the stationary items in the garage and pull out a pallet jack as you go to grab the keys to one of the many Audi's your father owns. You're not sure why he owns so many, but he does. Harley follows close behind, getting into the small but luxurious black car.

"H, can we talk?" you ask as you lower the music. You've decided that you'd wait until you were out of the garage and out of the gate to the tower.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I know you like me," you begin, deciding not to hold back. "Like like me."

"W-what? N-o I have n-no cl-"

"Harley, it's okay to have crushes. I find it flattering that you have a crush on me, but I need you to know that-"

"You don't like me. I know," Harley says sadly as he looks down at his hands.

"H, please don't be mad. You're a cool dude, and anybody would be lucky to be with you. I mean it, but I just don't see you that way. Plus, our dads are kind of dating, soon they'll be married. It would be weird," you tell him.

"I know but you're so cool and you're really attractive! Plus you're so nice and smart and I could go on and on! It sucks being in love-"

"Woah, woah, woah slow down buddy. You're not in love with me," you tell the young man. "Yeah you like me, but it's not love."

"How would you know what I feel?"

"Because you were the same about Ned, and about Ally."

The car goes silent for a few seconds. The sound of Shawn Mendes quietly plays in the background.

"I just never felt like this about someone, and I hate that it's you because I know it's wrong."

You frown and look briefly at Harley. You reach the store and the two of you are quick to get off and into the store. Harley winds up separating from you to go look around. You decide not to push it, so you go looking for what you need and head to the checkout desk. The whole thing only takes ten minutes, but soon the two of you are back in the car.

"If I kiss you, just this once, will it be enough to fulfill some dream of yours?"

"W-what?"

You sigh as you look down at the steering wheel before turning over to Harley.

"Look, obviously something about this is bugging you because I know you. You're not one to get mad at rejection. You respect people's decisions. But something is bugging you and I just want to know, if I kiss you, will it fix something within you? Enough to get you over this little crush? I mean, you're a month shy of seventeen, so it's technically not illegal or something, not like it's sex but still."

Harley looks you in the eyes, his showing confusion. Nothing but confusion.

"Y-you'll kiss me?"

"Let's make a deal. I'll kiss you, lips on lips, as long as you start getting over this silly little crush on me," you propose. Harley looks at you and you can see him begin to grin. You roll your eyes as his cheeks begin to blush.

"R-really?"

"Yes," you begin. "But that means no being shy around me, no staring at me doing the most mundane of things, and definitely no sadness that we won't ever be in love and get married and have fifty children and a farmhouse."

Harley nods eagerly. You can already feel yourself regretting this. Why would you propose this to him?

"I just wanna let you know that I've never kissed anyone and I'm scared that I'll be bad a-"

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. If there's one way to get him to stop thinking about it, it's by doing it. He stills for a few seconds but not too long after, he's kissing back. Your hands rest on his cheeks and his move to your waist. Once he began to shift in his seat, you decide that that was enough. So you pull away with a soft smile. His cheeks are red and he seems very bashful.

"How was that?" you ask.

"For your sake, it was really bad," Harley says. You smirk, turning the car on and heading back home.

"Good, now you know you're not missing out on much."

"I hate you," Harley says. You continue smiling, happy that everything has been put out.

"I hate you too, H."

Please send feedback or requests! Come send me asks or just talk to me!!

#harley keener #harley keener x reader #platonic!reader #platonic!Harley #Harley Keener imagine #mentioned characters #tony stark #peter parker #riri williams #bucky barnes #winteriron #marvel imagine

[famder-news]

More News Monday

Hello, everyone!!! It is, yet again, another Famdom News Update!!! This week I’ll be your host as we walk through a whole bunch of cool stuff!!!

mod: Wheat (@land-of-dragons-and-frogs) date: monday, june 17th, 2019 topic: fandom and thomas updates warnings: discussion of angst

1. Thomas Twitter/General Updates

Alrighty!!! Word has it, based on Thomas’s twitter, that he’s making the next Sanders Sides!!! I’m super excited for it!!! As the resident “Deceit is my son” mod, I can’t wait to see if my Favorite Slimey Boi is there; though, he hasn’t shown up in any of the pictures of the set... Maybe there’s something else afoot!

Since it’s still Pride Month, Thomas has also done a fan compilation of a bunch of pride art done with the boys!!! Check out his twitter if you want to see it; it’s pretty damn great :D

2. Fandom Updates

SO!!! Word has it that there’s SEVERAL people who believe that a new side will be introduced in the upcoming episode, based solely on the fact that Deceit hasn’t appeared in the promo pics and vids he’s put up on his twitter. Not sure how accurate that is, since Dee certianly doesn’t show up in every episode anyways, but I’m always down for a new side to Love and Cherish!!!

On top of this, I’ve started to see a handful of people plotting some Good Omens and Sanders Sides crossover fics on my dashboard. When y’all start that, tag me please!!! I binged it all yesterday!!!

Also, I’ve heard some debate as to the most angst-able character for the sides. Some people say Deceit, others say Patton, others Logan, Roman, or Virgil. I, personally, find it easier to write angst for Dee or Roman. Why not Patton or Virgil? They’re too easy of targets for me, honestly. Patton’s literally the heart and center of morality and emotions, so me writing angst for him feels like kicking a puppy, and writing angst for Virgil feels the same since he’s literally anxiety. I just can’t write Logan, so you people who CAN write Logan have my full support!!! This, of course, doesn’t mean I won’t read and thoroughly enjoy an angst fic centered on Patton or Virgil--I just find it too easy to angst them, which makes it harder to write complex angst for them, which is my personal favorite kind of angst. Then again, it’ll be a challenge to give them some nice angst... Food for thought for me, I suppose!!!

3. Theory Discussion

Today’s theory comes from Virgil’s (@softestvirgil on tumblr, go check them out) post about the newest episode! If you want to read it befor eseeing my discussion on it, please read it HERE!!! Now, I personally find this theory interesting because it doesn’t talk about a new dark side, as many of the others have been. THIS one discusses something else entirely: The fact that this upcoming episode will be the follow-up to Lee and Mary Lee’s wedding.

Now, those of you that know me know that I feel... strongly about the results of the last episode. So, this assuming the upcoming episode is a part two to the Lee and Mary Lee saga fills my little gremlin heart with joy.

Now, Virgil’s theory focus on three statements: A parental advisory, a song, and that Virgil (Henceforth referred to as S!Virgil to clarify between blogger and Canon Virgil) is both anxiety and depression (A theory that will likely be discussed in a later News Monday). It starts by discussing the fact that Joan had hinted that the Lee and Mary Lee saga needed a part two. From here, it goes into the reasoning and tie-ins to lead us from that to this simple fact: S!Virgil is hiding something. We don’t know what it is, but it ties directly to the S!Virgil is also depression theory. Or that a new dark side IS depression.

From here, we discuss why there will probably be a song. That’s simply speculation on our part, but Virgil states that they believe the song will be about depression in some way, shape, or form.

As for how this involves a parental adversary? Well, Virgil doesn’t touch on it too much, but. It’s a wedding. There’s bound to be parents involved, even if it isn’t Thomas’s own parents. I sincerely wouldn’t be surprised.

More Facts:

Virgil refers to a LOT of things Dee says in the episode, a lot of which seem to prove the “S!Virgil is depression / knows the side that IS depression” theory. It’s honestly really compelling, and a take on S!Virgil that I see less of due to people wanting to take him as anxiety + fight-or-flight.

My Opinion:

I, personally, REALLY like this theory. I didn’t like the decision Thomas made in Selfishness Vs. Selflessness especially since for his chosen career, cancelling on an important thing to MASSIVELY further your career is IMPORTANT!!! He TOTALLY could have also let the bride and groom know he’d be arriving to the wedding LATE because of the interview. And honestly? This behavior is incredibly self-destructive, stuff that I see in myself because I’ve got depression. It lends credence to the whole theory--maybe not the S!Virgil is also depression stuff, but definitely the theory that the upcoming episode will be about Thomas’s (possible) depression.

4. Other Things That Happened In The World

Ecuador legalized same-sex marriage this week!!! More importantly, they decided that non-straight marriage should have the same legal value as a  straight marriage!!! Furthermore, Ecuador is one of five countries in Latin America to legalize same-sex marriage. This is a massive improvement compared to 2015, where same-sex unions were recognized but not considered as a legal marriage. I personally hope that as policies change in Ecuador and other Latin America countries, that their positive attitudes towards LGBT+ individuals spreads to their neighboring countries.

Congratulations, Ecuadorians!!! Happy Pride!!!

Source: BBC CNN

Leave your opinions and thoughts in the comments!!! Have a Sanders Sides Vid (Fan-made or canon) or a complete fic you want us to review? Leave us an ask or a submission about it!!! I can’t wait to see you all for our next upload!

- Mod Wheat

#Mod Wheat #More News Monday #news monday

[faces-and-morefaces]

Talking about the cartoon I used to watch and reasons why did I stop:

Winx Club

[Talking about RAI’s version]

[Seasons 1,2 and 3]

Ok, I’ll first tart of why did I loved  used to be a great cartoon and it had great background music. Music that could deeply describe situation character is in it. And one of my favorite background music (from seasons 1, 2 and 3) are:

Winx Club 1-3 OST - Sombre - I really really love this one, it’s beautiful yet sad! And it really described character’s saddness in scene. It also feels like it’s describing the situation that happened long time ago, that’s one of the reasons why I love it so much.

Winx Club 1-3 OST - Victory! - This is a great background music, like it quite alot!

Winx Club 1-3 OST - Charmix Theme 1 - Like it beacuse even if charmix was only accessories, it had that special feelings like it wasn’t only just accessories but good power ups as well!

Winx Club 1-3 OST - Daphne 1 (full) - Love this one quite alot like Sombre, It has such a soft and relaxing tone!

Ending song - Always loved the ending music!

Also Italian version sounds nice!

And the rest: 

Winx Club 1-3 OST - Bloom gets kidnapped

Winx Club 1-3 OST - Scary Tunes (compilation)

Winx Club 1-3 OST - Cloudtower Theme 1

Winx Club 1-3 OST - Hard Feelings

Winx Club 1-3 OST - Dance Party

Like I said above all this music described situation,place or a character/what character felt in certain moment in a great way.

Since this is going to be a long post, for people who are interested they will read more about it under this:

Also what I liked in Rai’s version of Winx is that there were different fairies that attended Alfea even the one’s that looked like they could be witches:

But I like that they were all different:

But they were all different as well, even the Winx they had their differences and they were unique as well:

Different personalities, but yet a great team!

Also we see some new fairies in season 3 that made appearance later in other seasons such as:

Clarice:

Alice:

Emma:

Cornelia:

Marzia:

Maybe there are more, but I’m not making full list of it, there is a list on wikipedia!

Also I think Rai version also had great expressions:

(This Stella’s expression was only for 1 sec, but it’s still funny one.)

I know almost all characters from Winx are skinny,but the inspiration for them were mostly fashions models so yeah...

But there is one thing that kind of bothered me before,but later it didn’t matter too much to me since it’s usually smaller details:

Like this guy:

Don’t you ever wonder what happened to him?

He was only shown like 1 or 2 episodes in season 1 and never again.

[Season 4]

or them:

I understood they were especially for season 4,but i thought Winx would keep them later in other seasons as well, since Roxy started going to Alfea as well.

[Seasons 1,2 and 3]

As for Pixies I really liked them alot in season 2 and 3.

I liked how Chatta and Amore had totally different personalities from Flora and Stella.

First time when I saw them I thought Amore would be perfect Pixie for Flora and Chatta for Stella.

But I understand why Flora was connected with Chatta since Flora is quite shy person.

What I didn’t like was this change [Season 5] :

I didn’t mind the outfists, but how they changed Techna and Musa’s Pixies and put the ones that were from spinoff series Pop Pixie, since in that spinoff they made Digit male. But what bothers me is the fact that Digit isn’t Techna’s bonded Pixie, even if she is male she could have stayed Techna’s bonded Pixie. I don’t know why they changed Musa’s bonded Pixie as well!

[Seasons 1,2 and 3]

I talked about the music in these seasons and the reason why I love them so much, and hearing them again is so nostalgic.

I really loved first 3 seasons of Winx

They did copy paste characters in some scene,but you could barely notice that, since that was actually quite rare.

I like charmix (Rai version) and Flora’s charmix was my favorite.

I love enchantix alot because it showed fairies personalities and abilities. I I really love design for enchantix:

It’s really a beautiful transformation!

[Season 4]

I liked season 4 but a little less than the first 3 seasons,but I can’t point out why is that.

Season 4 was actually quite refreshing since Winx finished school and had new mission in Gardenia and all, new background music wasn’t that bad, but there were less moments where music made atmosphere more exciting/sad/etc. 

But I do have my favorite music from this season and it’s:

Superheroes - Ending song

Sophix Theme - Beautiful theme

Lovix Theme - Really love this one!

But there were some moments such as Roxie’s first transformation/ when Wizards of the Black Circle captured Arthur (Roxy’s pet dog)

I like Believix transformation after Enchantix it’s refreshing and modern transformation and I always had a feeling it’s excursively made for the plot of season 4 since the one of the purpose of this transformation is to make humans believe in magic in general.

Also like the designs as well.

I didn’t like the idea of Nabu dying at all...He was a great character, but the decision to kill such a great character was kind of stupid idea for me. But eh, it happened long time ago,so yeah...

Also I don’t remember animation used to be this bad???

[Season 5] [The Start of Nickelodeon Era/Version]

I don’t know if season 4 was also part of Nickelodeon, that is when Nick took over Winx Club.

First when I saw images of Bloom in harmonix form I was sooo excited for fifth season of the series:

But when the season 5 started to air I didn’t started to watch it right away, but waited a little so I would have more episodes to watch and I think that’s the time when Winx started to air on Nickelodeon, I don’t know if season 4 was also part of Nickelodeon or not.

But that’s when Winx started falling apart in my opinion when I started to watch season 5.

I don’t even remembered if I finished watching season 5 at all, animation looked great, but I didn’t like the story.

I expected Roxy to become part of the team, she has great qualities to become one of the Winx, but since she’s actually younger than Winx and she attends Alfea in this season is understandable, Roxy was 16 years old in season 4, so in this season she should be 17, like Stella in season 1 when she attends school second time after what she did last year.

But it could have been awesome if Roxy was with them helping atleast in few episodes,atleast seeing her get harmonix would have been great!

As far as I remember Bloom had the most screen time and I’ve seen people talking about it alot past 5-6 years.

Techna and Musa had so little of screen time (excluding the group screen time). Also I think their personalities weren’t much shown in this season (excluding Aisha in this matter).

Aisha had decent (I think I’m not sure) screen time in this season, but I think that’s because of the fact that Tritannus was her cousin.

I understand that Bloom is leader of the group and all, but I don’t know I kinda feel that other Winx didn’t much cooperate since Bloom was always the one on the screen.

As I said above I really liked how harmonyx looked on Bloom, but seeing on all the Winx:

was kinda meh to me because they all looked similar if not almost the same in the dresses, the top of the dress sure is different, shoes are basically the same only recolored could have atleast a detail or some kind of a symbol on them.

Hairstyle was ok I guess? Flora’s bangs stayed while the others did change.

I feel Bloom,Stella and Flora are more well designed than Musa,Techna and Aisha here as well.

Also their wings look smaller compared to their dresses. Maybe it’s probably hair, I don’t know...

As for sirenix...

Again almost same outfits with little differences, which I don’t like. at. all. 

Recolored same wings are just no.

[Season 6]

I can’t talk much about this season, because I only watched few clips and maybe and episode or 2, because I REALLY REALLY didn’t like it at all and that’s when I stopped watching Winx.

[Season 7]

Can’t talk much about this season as well.

But I can tell you about what I think of transformation Butterflix:

What I’m actually glad about is the wings are not same, they are similar but not same and that’s good.

Dresses are cute and I like them even if they look similar. What got my eye is Bloom and Musa’s bottom part of the dress looks identical only different color.

Same recolored shoes!  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

My favorite is Flora’s design, and Techna’s looks nice as well.

The only thing I know about seasons 5,6,7 even 8 and what I find annoying is seeing Trix in these seasons... It’s basically Tom and Jerry every time they bring them back.

[Season 8]

I don’t know how much did they change story line is previous 2 seasons, but I did watch few clips of season 8 and I have something to say about this season.

First of all starting with new designs of all characters, or better said revamped for new season.

Looks:

They really didn’t have to go that far to change the characters tho...

What I really don’t like about these designs are eyes, they all have same doll like eyes and they look kind of creepy in promo images.

 I liked how Flora and Musa had different eyes and how all of them had different tan, as I said above they didn’t had to go that far really...

I did heard they were bringing enchantix back, but i shouldn't expect it to be the same. Knowing how they changed the male characters from this:

To this:

Which in my opinion they could have stand alone show/spinoff as teenagers (13-14 years), because they look like that.

They look really young knowing for a fact that they are supposed to be young adults by now. I don’t have anything else to say about them...

And few days ago I watched clip about Icy’s backstory:

So you’re saying to me that this is not connected???:

(This is from season 3 where Icy, Darcy and Stormy didn’t knew each other as kids - When one of them asked “You looked like that!?”)

Season 8′s Icy.

But yeah in season 3 she is a kid in that scene and here she was shown probably as teenager, since she does look older than Bloom and other fairies in original (Rai’s version of) series.

As for her hair if her hair, if she’s natural blonde how we see in season 8, then maybe she used to change her color as a kid sometimes,but if her natural was light blue like in season 3 then she probably just dyed her hair blonde with magic. 

And if there was Nick Special for season 3, I bet they wouldn’t include this scene with them as kids, like how they didn’t include Rai’s Charmix and put the title Charmix as the base fairy form. 

In my opinion this is plot hole they made this season. Why’s that? Because her backstory doesn’t explain how did she got in contact with the Ancestral Witches. How did she got in contact with Darcy and Stormy (maybe it will be expalined?? Who knows.) What is Darcy and Sormy’s backstories?

After she/they (the Trix) got in contact with them is explained why she/they started hating Bloom, I think...

I see that Icy kept a secret that she’s a royalty and that she had a sister. But there’s no way no one heard of Kingdom that was destroyed or took by a witch or it was never known about the princesses of that kingdom.Or what happened to that royal family of that certain Kingdom! Domino was known for it’s story! 

I’ll be back to transformations for season 8, what I forgot was a certain characters from the show:

Diaspro:

She never changes. I’m surprised that she’s even in season 8, waaay too annoying character. 

She used to be Sky’s fiancé, but that was long time ago and seeing her again is kinda ugh...She shouldn’t be too much important at all.

Overused character and her arc should have been done long time ago as well.

Selina:

Putting Selina as Bloom’s childhood friend was kinda weird, since we don’t see any backstory before Bloom started going to Alfea/met Stella nor any friends or classmates she used to have. Which is also kind of a plot hole in my opinion Because if they showed backstory (school she attended before Alfea) they would certainly show some friends she used to have as a kid. (They did show her ex- boyfriend in season 4, the guy that never made appearance in seasons 1-3, they showed her in class in Gardenia,but that’s only in comics and I don’t know if that’s canon o not, they did show her childhood in the movie but with Vanessa and Mike only.) Selina is nowhere to be seen as a kid so far till in season 6. That’s how their story goes I guess. 

Since she’s character from season 6 and I only watched few clips from season 6, they probably showed some backstory with her and Bloom.

She’s nowhere to be seen in season 7 and season 8 so far.

Chimera:

Seems Chimera was a character excursively for season 3, but she could have made 1 or 2 more appearance, since they are forcing Diaspro even in season 8.

She made appearance in Season 4 Winx Club Book, to take revenge on Stella, but as I said I don’t know if any of comics or books are canon to the original story.

Now back to those season 8 transformations:

Cosmix:

Since season 8 is space-themed, they could at least except all those glitters and shiny stuff on them really put some space like design on them.

Same wings, no comment.

I feel like they were going for space suit dress design for Cosmix and it could be seen here.

Enchantix:

Oh boy...

Left: Enchantix (Season 8) 

Right: Enchantix  (Season 3)

(Sorry for the bad quality of image,but here’s the link)

Original is still my favorite. Newer version is meh, I don’t like it. at all.

Sirenix

Winx Club - Sirenix Season 5 Vs Season 8 [COMPARISON]

Made their dresses more colorful, they probably wanted to make more sea/ocean themed.

Everything I said about sirenix above goes same for this one.

They sure look like kids...

Butterflix

Winx Club - Butterflix Season 7 VS Season 8 [COMPARISON]

There wasn’t much of a difference except makeup and heels mostly.

What got my eye when I was watching this was how their hands and feet have smaller proportion than the original as well. 

But doll like eyes are still there!  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Nick Specials:

I’m not gonna talk about them separately, there’s no need.

I’m just gonna say, it was unnecessary really.

They cut alot of scenes and other stuff from seasons 1 and 2, and they tried putting season 1 and 2 in 1 or 2 hours, i don’t know and I don’t care really because I know they were trying to make a connection between other seasons such as season 5 to 8, since there are alot of plot holes when Nick took over the cartoon/series.

They never showed Charmix as a separate transformation with power ups from season 2. Instead they named base fairy form Charmix...As far as I knew power ups were there for a reason in season 2,but nevermind I guess...

They changed Stella’s speech from:

“Stella, Fairy of  of the Sun and the Moon”

to:

“Stella,  Fairy of  of the Shining Sun “

Which I don’t blame them because we never actually saw Stella using any of the moon powers or any moon spells.

Comparasion of 1 scene fom Rai and Nick version:

When Bloom screams her speech (I know it sounds weird I didn’t know how to write it, you know what I mean.) 

Right: Rai    Left:Nick

As far as I know you need to open your mouth wide to be able to scream loud that’s for sure and you see here in Rai’s version she has an expression, she’s angry and that stays even when she screams whereas in Nick’s version she kind of looks angry but that only sticks around few minutes and then she looks expressionless (or not changing her face at all, I don’t know right word for that.)

I’m not planning to watch season 8 as well as season 6 and 7.

Since they changed story too much, and they have a lot plot holes they left, they probably/maybe fixed it with Nickelodeon english dub,but then again I highly doubt that.

I understand they changed art style probably because Winx as a cartoon right now is aimed for kids, where originally was aimed for teens and kids back then I think, but I could tell for sure that story is aimed for kids now when you compare season 1,2 and 3 to season 5,6,7 and 8.

I thought of including spin offs and movies into this post but it’s not relatable to the title of this post so I will do it separately and there are some stuff I left that are connected with series and the movies,but I will write it in the next post when I get to write about Winx movies.

#if you want to read it go ahead but let me warn you this post is super SUPER long #rant #winx club #winx #long post #music is soooo nostalgic v_v #I think that was all

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #206

“have you ever wished for death and prayed all night for your last breath?”

Do you always read the book before you see a movie based on a book? No. When you’re out with friends, do they ever encourage you to spend money you should be saving? 1.) I don't hang out w/ anyone now, 2.) but even when I did, they all knew I didn't make money. Is there anything you’re trying to save up money for? What? Perpetually tattoos, I want a PS4 super badly to play a novel of games I've been dying to play (SotC and Spyro trilogy remaster, I'm @ing you so hard), I need a car soon as I plan to at least try and get my license in the near future, I'd love to always have enough to immediately go to Sara's in case of an emergency, a trip to South Africa... but those are gonna take a good while to complete. I have my priorities straight for when I get a job. Have you ever watched a movie you didn’t really want to see just because a friend asked you to? Yeah. Did you end up liking the movie, anyway? There's been many cases of the above situation, so I'm sure in some instances I have. Heard any great songs for the first time lately? What songs? Hmmm, quite a number. "Radio" by Rammstein is great, and I love "bury a friend" and "bad guy" by Billie Eilish. What is your favorite urban legend? m o t h m a n and the joysey devil. Probably top two. GAH I love so many though????????????? Like Skinwalkers?????????????? And WENDIGOS????????? Have you seen all the cool shit?????????????? Do you remember the last nightmare you had? What was it? No, thankfully. Have you ever hopped on any bandwagons? HAHA. Freshman year, high school... I "liked" screamo or alternative-type bands I'd barely ever listened to or even enjoyed to fit in with the emos aldkjfalkwejr. Are you an elitist (even a little bit) when it comes to anything? What? Definitely not a complete one, but I can get pretty annoyed if in WoW we're in a heroic dungeon and people don't know the mechanics you should have already learned + read new ones that're right there in the goddamn journal laksdjfaoweir and then some people just totally ignore your advice and alskdjfwleiruwqoeif x2. Then again I've been that confused asshole in a couple raiding situations BUT LOOK they're harder and I had too much to catch up on okay. Still no excuse by WHATEVER. Have elitists on a fansite ever intimidated or talked down to you? I don't believe so. Is there anything you swear you will never do again? A few things with certainty. How late do you usually stay awake? I can literally go to bed as early as 7 to as late as 11 or rarely later. I do NOT have a schedule. Started months ago, and at first it frustrated and stressed me out quite a bit, but by now, I've just accepted it for me. Do you have pets? If so, how did you choose their names? Teddy: sister named him, but I'm sure it was the "cute as a teddy bear" type thing; Bentley: no clue; Roman: it sounded majestic, cats are majestic; Venus: pretty, and her coloration is similar to the planet; Kaiju: totally badass for an iguana that's gonna grow to be a big 'ole scaly boy; and Mitsu: I had a theme of giving my rats cutesy "M" names. Do you ever buy special treats for your pets? Occasionally. Is just being fond of something enough, or does it take more than that to be a ‘real fan’? Did a middle school student write this? If you're pretty fond of something, there you go, you're a fan. Sure, some are more intense, but that doesn't make the more casual ones not "real." What type of fabric is most comfortable for clothing? Idk, I don't pay attention. If you wear one – bras with or without a wire? Christ, without. If you wear one – are you able to find cute bras in your size? HA. No. It is RARE I'll find a cute one, and that's always only online. Make pretty ones for plus-sized women a normal find, jfc. Idk why, but I am very picky with bras. Like good fucking luck seeing me without a shirt, so like,,,, why do I bother????? What length do you like your shorts to be? UM you will NOT see me in SHORTS. Have you ever cut off jeans or other pants and made them into shorts? Perhaps Mom has when I was a kid? But I have no memory of this ever happening. Have you cut the sleeves out of T-shirts to make tank tops? I don't think so. Have you ever modified a piece of clothing and hated how it turned out? ^ What was the last disappointing movie you saw? Ah jeez, what's the last time I even watched one. Idk. What was the last disappointing book you read? And I haven't read a book in even longer. Is there anything you’re really excited about? JOB. OPPORTUNITIES. Do you ever watch compilation videos? Of what? Vines, like shit dude. I can go on massive binges. What was the last thing you rolled your eyes about? I don't recall. What would you consider the greatest song ever recorded? Why? Yeesh, that's a big thing to decide. I recently discovered "A Reason to Fight" by Disturbed though, and it is. Incredible. Just read the lyrics to refresh my mind, and yeah, goosebumps. Do you like Hellboy? If so, do you prefer the old movies or the new one? Never seen any. Favorite Disney character who isn’t royalty? Dory, probably. But man, there's too many to choose from. Last thing you purchased just for fun? *shrugs* Do you even like behind-the-scenes stuff or does it ruin the magic for you? IF I'm real into the product, I love that stuff!! I've seen like every little BTS Silent Hill thing there is, probably, multiple hours' worth. What is your favorite thing about Mac computers? They're small and lightweight. What is your favorite thing about PCs? They generally hold much more memory. What are some errands you need to run soon? I don't have "errands" yet. Have your parents ever tried to convince people there was something wrong with you, when their “diagnosis” wasn’t accurate? No. List 3 of your best memories, times you wish you could go back and repeat. In no order, just as they come to me: 1.) First hug with Sara when we met at the airport; 2.) THE LOOK ON SARA'S FACE when she saw me in her room on her birthday (probably fave memory of all time, actually); 3.) seeing meerkats for the first time at the zoo. Ohhhh or maybe the true realization I was happy without Jason. But idk, that was SUCH a gradual process where I didn't feel ecstasy in like one moment. What color was your high school graduation gown? Ew, it was this obnoxious red. The majority apparently voted for it, while I was on the navy team. Are your parents’ dreams for your life different than your own? Mom's pretty dead-set on me being a vet, but she doesn't try to push me into it or anything. I know she just wants happiness for me. I haven't got a clue about Dad. Have your dreams for your life changed? Of course. What are your dreams now? HAPPY, stable job that I thoroughly enjoy, well-off financially (I don't aim to be rich, just "safe," you could say), healthy marriage, own my own home, travel to a few places, did y'all think I was gonna forget "meet Mark???"... stuff like that. What was your dream as a child? It changed plenty of times, but my earliest goal was to be a paleontologist. Do you feel safe in your country? Sure, I guess. Safer than most places. If applicable, do you feel safe at your school? N/A Would you ever want to learn sign language? It'd be cool, sure, but it's not something I'm interested in pursuing. How many meals do you eat a day? 2-3. Sometimes just one "real" meal. Do you own any succulents? No. What color are your walls? A hideous puke green. Why. What color were the walls in the bedroom you grew up in? I don't remember at all. What was the last song you listened to on repeat? "Love Falls" by HELLYEAH. What is your favorite style (or styles) of dance? Modern. Have you ever performed a solo dance in front of a crowd? No. Have you ever sung a solo? No. Which insects are you afraid of? Most, really. Do you think it’s silly to be afraid of an insect, when it’s so tiny? It depends on the insect, of course. Even if I do know what it is and it's "safe," I'll still typically freak if it surprises me. When was the last time you had a deep conversation with someone? Hmmm. Sara, I believe? What are you waiting for? Jesus FUCKING Christ on a bike a job. What do you usually feel like doing the most at home? Stuff on the laptop. What grade were you in when you had your first crush? I don't remember... For "puppy dog love," I believe maybe the 4th grade, but I may be wrong. I'd say my first *real* crush was on a guy named Sebastian in my freshman year of high school. Shit man, did a lot go down my freshman year. I'm just reminiscing and crushes jumped between like five dudes 'til Jason won. At what age did you start experiencing sexual attraction, if any? Some time in middle school, I think? Like that's when I had my first bisexuality crisis: 6th or 7th grade. Have you ever split open a rock with a hammer, to see the glitter inside? No, but FUCK I WANNA. What type of tree do you see the most of where you live? There's a pine tree outside my window. Oh, and there's a pine tree in my back yard. Oh, what's that across the road? Woods of pine trees. Where do all birds in NC live? In pine trees. What does our air smell like? Pine trees. Where is your favorite place you’ve lived? My previous home as far as location; house itself, where I am now. It's got its issues, but it's cozy and a perfect size for just two people. What states have you lived in? Just 'ole North Carolina. Take me awaaaaaaaaaaaay- Do you wish you were someone else? Sometimes. What is your favorite thing about the month in which it is now? Literally just flowers. That's it. It. Everything else can suck a legion of dicks. Who were your best friends in high school? Hannia, Girt, Jason (if he counts), Alon, Maria... I had a few "best" ones. ^Are they still your best friends now? Girt is my closest thing to a "best friend" if you don't include my girlfriend. Do you live near the mountains? No, they're on the opposite end of the state. ;___; Do you live near a beach? We're like, two-ish hours away. What is your favorite beach that you’ve been to? Idk and idc, beaches aren't my thing. Do you collect seashells? Not seriously, but I'll keep a cool one if I find one. If you were to start a new collection, what would it be? If I was not ashamed of looking like a 23-y/o pre-teen in love with Just Bieber, I'd have more Markiplier merch than you'd fucking believe. (One of my biggest regrets in life was not buying the tasteful nudes calendar; I will eternally smite myself for being too embarrassed to have to explain why I would have that hanging above my bed rip.) If you had to pick one year and describe it as the best year of your life that you want to relive again, which year would it be? 2017 was fuckin litty titty. Is your world view the same as your parents’? In some ways with Mom, and I do know Dad and I differ on a few things. Well, if I learned more about his more political beliefs, I feel I'd probably disagree with most. What color are your glasses, if applicable? Black. Are you the person you thought you’d be when you were younger? No. Are you a confrontational person, or the peacekeeper? I'm a massive peacekeeper. I avoid confrontation like the PLAGUE. Do you like to read? Not nearly as much as I used to. Like all I ever read nowadays are RP posts as I obviously have to reply to them, but if they're long, it is common I procrastinate on reading it... ;_; Do you sleep too much or not enough? Probably too much, especially when I go to bed early. Although, I do wake up throughout the night and sometimes officially pretty early. Then some days I have a 1-2 hour nap, so that just adds to it. Who is your best friend? Sara. <3 How did you two meet? YouTube. How did you meet your current bf/gf? ^ How far away is your closest family member? Well I live with my mom, but she's at work atm. The last time you did something with BOTH of your parents was? BOY OH FUCKING BOY. My mom's the most bitter witch towards him, so even for family events, Dad usually only stops by to avoid creating a goddamn wreck, such as at birthday dinners. I think the last time they were in the same house was for my nephew's birthday half a year ago, I believe. What’s your favorite holiday? Halloween!!! Now that I have a niece and nephew who grasp the concept of Santa, Christmas is also really special to me. I don't want kids, but watching those sweethearts get so excited over their presents is magical. For me personally, the holiday has grown more and more about celebrating family, especially as we continue to branch out/go our own ways. So I guess I like the idea of Halloween better and would enjoy it more if I actually had something to do, but as far as joy goes, Christmas. Do you like pumpkin pie? I hate anything and everything pumpkin-flavored. The last time you went to the doctor, what were you there for? It was the see my psychiatrist. Do you take any medication regularly? Yeah. Is there any particular view you have on insane people? I see "insane" versus "sane" as far more of a gradient shift instead of a direct split; there're levels. I actually do legitimately think I at some juncture in the aftermath of the breakup qualified as slightly insane, yet I wasn't dangerous or entirely out of touch with reality. So if you tell me someone's actually insane, I'm going to fear them being the explosive, entirely unpredictable and loopy kind, but I know the person may be calm and somewhat stable on the outside, too. You gotta consider the severity. Do you believe in any conspiracies? 9/11 was orchestrated by the government and you cannot change my mind. I'm not totally sold on this one and lean more towards "nah" (I think), but the "we live in a simulation by a future civilization" is not that far-fetched at all if you actually look into it. It's very interesting, whether or not you're sold on it. Hell, Neil deGrasse Tyson firmly believes in it. Out of your friends, who is the funniest? Girt makes me laugh at the snap of his fingers, it seems. Anything you need to get rid of? I'm sure somewhere... Do you have any wasted talents? Animal knowledge and compassion, probably... I know I could make a fantastic rehabilitator for animals, among a plethora of other animal-related preservation and protection actions I could actively engage in. Well, I'm going back to school for zoology, but even now, I want to do more. There is a wildlife rehab place I may be able to volunteer at soon, tho! Mom's talking to a guy at work about me helping there. DAMN, livin a dream. Do you let the little things get to you? The issue could be as small as a single cell and it could still bother me. How often do you cry? Maybe once in a week, possibly longer. I don't know if you mean like really cry or just tear up/lightly cry. The latter is pretty common, but the other, not so much. Even if I want to cry, my jaw just entirely locks the hell up and I physically can't get it out. Is there anything you’re trying to prevent? I mean besides the common sense things everyone takes action to avoid, hm. I feel like there's so much, yet nothing is coming to me? Well, actually, it's usually a daily struggle to prevent at least one OCD cycle. When was the last time you were told you were cute? *shrug* When was the last time you were truly, completely happy with your life? It's been quite a while... At least over a year ago, when I began to get antsy with wanting a job and later going back to school. It just all started when I realized I was healed from the breakup and ready to move forward in life, but I wasn't. Do you miss the way things used to be between you and someone else? Multiple people. What colors has your hair been? Dirty blonde, brown, red, and purple. I've had red and purple highlights, and I naturally have blondish ones, too. I'm ready to dye it again, jfc. Most attempts are failures because my hair does NOT take color well whatsoever. It's only ever worked perfectly with the brand Splat, and my hair soaked in the dye for a LONG time before washing it out. Have you ever gotten burnt by a cigarette? No. Do you and your parents like any of the same bands/singers? We share interest in plenty of the same bands, Mom especially. Is there any food in your bedroom? What? No. Do you know anyone who has road rage? Who? MY LITTLE SISTER. Haven't seen the woman in three years, but I can promise you Jason's mom still has it to a legendary degree. How expensive is too expensive for a pair of shoes? I haven't looked for shoes in so long that I don't even know the average price. What kinds of cereal are in the cupboard? Honey Nut Cheerios, normal Cheerios I think, and we have a little bit of the chocolate chunk Special K cereal left over. It's got to be stale by now (it's not even closed fully); I need to remember to toss it. What’s the last thing you spent over $10 on? Ummm I'm not sure. Over $30? I think my tongue piercing was $40? Maybe even lower? Or slightly higher?? I don't remember. Do you know who lives three houses down from you? I think so. The one time I was locked out of my house in the snow with Teddy and I waited like a fucking hour until I broke down, absolutely freezing (I was in my pajamas, dude), and walked down the road to try and get help (I needed to call my mom, obviously, and I didn't have my phone), I believe it was the third neighbor who answered. Turned out being a retired deputy who was super intimidating yet kind at the same time; he let Teddy and me stay in his house (mind you, Teddy is incontinent and didn't have his diaper on, which I warned him about) while Mom was on her way home. He gave me a jacket and some water, even when I said I was fine, but you could tell he wasn't totally sure about trusting this random, sobbing girl at his door because he asked me a thousand questions about my story and quizzed if I really did live in this area. Obviously a good cop, but after a day like that, I was just terrified of an old man who appeared a bit gruff. But thankfully Mom got there to save the day and I am forever grateful for that guy. WOW what a story for a simple question. Is there a bulletin board in your room? No. Is your mom a big health freak or your dad? Or neither? "Health freak" seems a bit extreme for both of them, but Mom is more concerned about health in general. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? No. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards? We just have tortilla chips, I think. I try to keep snacks out of the house to avoid temptation, and who eats plain tortilla chips. Do you have your mom's or dad's hair? Mom's. What’s the first thing you see when you walk into your bedroom? Most would probably notice my Nightmare Before Christmas poster first, being as big as it is and on the wall opposite the entrance. Do you prefer the truth, even if it’s harsh? YES. I NEED to know this kinda stuff, even if the truth is really hard to hear. Do you have any friends who have naturally red hair? I don't think so. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired? I think I did when my very first band teacher did. EVERYONE loved him. Like, the entire school. Does your kitchen look like it was designed in a completely different decade? No? When’s the last time you wore heels? Great question. Probably not since my sister's wedding in '16. Do you have your mom’s or dad’s eyes? My grampa's on Mom's side. What’s the best date movie? Probably a rom com? Have your parents ever been out of the country? No. How many pairs of jeans, all together, are in your house? Zero. Do you swear and yell while playing video games? I'll swear under my breath or seethe in frustration, but I never yell. Is there any alcohol in the fridge? No. Has a best friend ever ditched you for a girlfriend/boyfriend? Pretty much. Whenever she starts dating a guy, she dips, and whenever/if ever we talk, she rambles absolutely endlessly about him. Do you know anyone who has grossly skinny eyebrows? I couldn't possibly care less about how your eyebrows look. Do your pets chase after bugs? Roman and Bentley sure do. Bentley is a Professional Fly Moncher, specifically. When’s the last time you were so excited you couldn’t sleep? Why? Uhhh good question. Probs the night before Sara got here for my b-day. What is your mom’s favorite movie? Hm, good question! I'd ask her, but I don't want her to ask me why I am lmao. What TV family reminds you of your own family? Probably none. Did you ever really believe that the stork brought babies? No. I don't remember what I thought, but I know it wasn't that. Do you have any relatives who really spoil you? No, I think? Well Dad gives my sisters and me way too much money for Christmas and always tells us to ask him if we need anything, but I pretty much never ask him for said things, so I don't know the extent he'd go. Are there any drawers in your house that are just filled with junk? Pretty much. Is the last person you spoke to in love? That's my mom, so I doubt that with all I know. Do you know anyone who has security cameras in their house? I don't believe so. What was the last movie to make you cry? I think the last was Coco. Moana may have made me tear up, but I can't remember... Has anyone you know ever pulled the fire alarm in school, joking around? Not to my memory. What time do you usually go to sleep at sleepovers, if ever? I haven't been to a sleepover in God knows how long. Who was the main character in the last book you read? Alice Liddell. Who are the last people you saw kiss? Via YouTube, Jeffree and his boyfriend. Irl, I don't know. Have you ever posted a fan fiction on a website? No. Do you ever fantasize about your future wedding? Who’s the bride/groom? Not very much. Like I've had brief daydreams about it, sure, but it's not something that's on my mind a lot. Still got a long time before that happens. What was the last unpleasant thing to wake you up? My cat not knowing how to keep his mouth shut. Would you rather look at clouds or stars? Stars. Well, it depends; stars if we're in a completely isolated area where you can see them crystal clear or the clouds are boring, but otherwise, clouds if their design and colors are cool. Do you have any relatives who are expecting a baby really soon? No. Do you ever wonder what the opposite sex do at sleepovers? No. When you get married, who will be the maid of honor/best man? My mom, no questions asked. When’s the last time you broke plans? Why? I wasn't feeling well. I was supposed to see my VR coach that day. Have you ever been in a wedding? What were you? Yes, my sister's. I was a bridesmaid. It was an absolutely awful experience because I was hot as fuck, it was triggering as HELL with me still grieving Jason, and I felt positively hideous in a dress when I was at such a horrible weight. I wish so dearly I could redo that day; I fell like I put a serious damper on my sister's big day. Would you feel safer with an alarm system or security cameras? Hm, depends on the scenario... I guess an alarm system? Like security cameras will show a murderer climbing through my window, but they're not gonna wake me up to save my ass. Does it matter to you what kind of shampoo you use? So long it smells nice, isn't watery, and doesn't only add oil to my hair, I don't care much. Has a stray dog ever tried to bite you? No. When riding a bus, do you prefer to sit in front, in the back, or in the middle? Hm... idk. When I took the bus home with Jason, we always sat in the back, and that's really the only time I took a bus regularly. I think otherwise, I'd prefer the middle, closer to the front? I think I usually did that on occasions like band competitions and such. Have you ever been on a cross-country train ride? No. Are you normally a person to tell people off? No, that's rare. Is there any TV show that ended that you wish hadn’t? Meerkat Manor. Though I would hope they'd lessen down on the false story-telling. Stick to the true KMP events. When you feel stressed, do you take things out on the wrong people? Sometimes. Do you even wear any jeans other than skinny anymore? I don't wear jeans period. What did you talk about at lunch today with your friends? N/A Are you sensitive to caffeine? Definitely not. My system's too used to it, probably. How do you usually get around? Mom drives me. I'm 23. :^) Which languages do you wish you could speak fluently in? German. Have you ever been accused of being too clingy? SURPRISINGLY no, at least to my memory. Do you like Vitamin Water? Never tried, don't want to. What was the last thing you took a picture of? Dad and me on his birthday. Do you know anyone that uses Sprint as their phone carrier? Idk. Well, I think. When you go to McDonalds, what drink do you usually get? Coke. Do you have a Kindle or iPad or neither? Neither. Would you rather read or write? Write. When was the last time someone took a picture of you? Sometime during Bobby's visit literally days ago. I already forgot who took it... and who else was in it lmao. Do you own a pair of slippers? Yeah, two. A meerkat pair and then a far less extra pair that're closer to socks. I think they have cats on them? I got them for Christmas I think and haven't worn or seen them much. Would you rather see Taylor Swift or Carrie Underwood in concert? Not a fan of either, but Carrie Underwood is more tolerable and even has a couple songs I enjoy. Name something negative that you hate about yourself: I'll jump to a conclusion within .02 seconds of something negative happening. Or not even "negative" or something that's purely in my head. Is your house currently hot, cold or just right? The house itself is fine, and my room is just right because I have my fan on. Is there a Dead End road near where you live? I can't think of one off the top of my head, but it's likely, really. There's lots of those here. Growing up, did you see your cousins often? No. We live many states away on both parents' sides. Where was your first job at? GameStop. Who are you tired of seeing in the news a lot? (Celebrities) It's been like two days and I'm over seeing the James Charles/Tati drama everywhere. You can't be interested in the YouTube community without being drowned in that shit right now somehow someway on any YT-coverage page and YouTube itself. Have you ever had to call and complain about a product you bought? I personally haven't. Would you date someone who’s shorter than you? I very openly and severely judge you if fucking height means that much to you. Do you mind being the third wheel? Not really, no. I'd only feel uncomfortable if they were getting pretty intimate. Has a kiss ever made you weak in the knees? Um I didn't know that was actually a thing so no. Do you feel comfortable buying condoms? Never been in that position. Have you ever dated two people at once? No. Have you ever been tested for STDs? No. Well wait, that time I gave blood I probably was just out of safety protocol. Have you ever run into your ex with his/her new sweetie? No. Have you ever felt guilty after doing something sexual? When I was in that "wait does this break the abstinence rule" phase, yeah. God was I technical. Have you ever had a condom break during sex? N/A Do your parents know if you’re having sex? Well considering I'm with a girl and she lives states away, that answer's obvious. Do you eat chips or crackers more? Chips. Would you rather be a singer or a dancer? A dancer. Would you rather be a musician or a painter? A painter, maybe? If I could play the electric guitar, though... idk. What social media sites do you visit the most? Facebook. What did you hair look like in high school? Long, thick as fuck, brown (or dyed black) with some sort of highlight, and it was split to the left with the hair swooped over my right eye. Basically "I want the emo swoop but my hair is too fucking thick to obey hairspray." :^) Which dollar store do you shop at? Depends on what's closest, usually. We rarely ever stop at one unless it's for candy to bring into the movie theater, seriously lol. I think usually Dollar General? Do you prefer candy corn or conversation hearts? WE DON'T KNOW EITHER. Skeletons or scarecrows? s k e l l y b o y s Has anyone ever given you the silent treatment? Yep. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had in your mouth? I learned on that day I hate giving blowjobs. Has anyone ever threatened you with a knife? No, thankfully. (If you’re a girl) Has anyone ever called you ‘shortie’ instead of girl? BOY I would fucking cackle. I hate that word. No. Do you ever watch The Simpsons? No. Have you ever sent an embarrassing moment of yours into a mag to be printed? OH MY GOD I remember that!!! But no. What IS your most embarrassing moment? Too lazy to go through the novel of 'em to pick the worst. Do you think you’re more cute or sexy? You assume I find myself either. Do you own any mini skirts? I don't own any skirts period. Do you draw little hearts and stuff with eyeliner next to your eyes? No. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever lost? Idk. Has your mom ever lied to you? I'm sure she has before. Do you have a deep voice? For a girl, yeah. When’s the last time someone made breakfast for you? *shrugs* Exclusively for me, probably never. Do you do something new with your hair practically every day? No, it's the same everyday. When someone knocks on the door, who do you think it is? Delivery guy. Has anyone ever licked your foot? Ew no. Do you play games with boys/girls, like ‘hard to get’? I'm not 15. Has a guy ever quoted a romantic Shakespeare line to you? No, and I'm glad, as I'd cringe into another realm. Is there a Sonic where you live? Yes, I LIVE- Do you smile with your teeth? Usually. I look less high, at least. What did you eat for lunch today? A pb&j. What do you like on your pizza? Pepperoni, jalapenos, or meat lovers. What is in the back seat of your car right now? I don't own a personal car. Mom has a a load of stuff in the back of hers, at least I think... That's super rare, but she's been so ungodly busy idk if she's had time to clean it out. I haven't paid attention so can't recall. What was the last thing you threw up? Idr. Menthol or regular cigarettes? I don't smoke and never have, so idk. What is your favorite episode of Friends? I don't watch it, and I haven't seen many episodes at all if for whatever reason I was in a room and it was on. Does anyone have any blackmail on you? No. Have you been to a strip club? No. What’s the last sporting event you watched? Hell if I remember. It had to either be my 16th birthday when Jason's family was all together watching the Super Bowl, or a hockey game with my dad. Last person’s house you were in? Besides my own, my sister's. Who is the last person you sent a message to on Facebook? Nicole. Ever go to camp? No. Were you an honor roll student in school? Yeah. Do you have a tan? HA no. How old do you want to be when you have kids? I don't want kids. Are you someone’s best friend? Yeah. Favorite gemstone? Dragon's breath opal. Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive thru, almost always. Does your first memory involve your dad? No. When was the last time you went swimming? Last summer at the beach. Holy fuck the water was so perfect. Has your luggage ever gotten lost? No. Have you ever thought it would be cool to smash a guitar? No. Like... just why. Do you ever get flu shots? No.

#survey #quiz #questions #random

[dxmedstudent]

Weird Asks that Say a Lot  Meme...

My friend the wonderful @meanwhileonwednesday suggested I fill out Every even number for the 'weird asks that say a lot', so here I am. Thanks, friend! XD

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolates.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

At my first school? Artistically talented and perceptive (one teacher was very vividly impressed by my grasp of duck anatomy at like 5 years old). Then there’s the teacher at my new school who thought I had special needs because I was withdrawn (I was being bullied by most of the class, really); she was a new teacher and not really equipped to deal with that. By the end of primary school, I went back to being commended on my work ethic and smarts and artistic ability.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Hmmm I think my work clothes are mostly a formal/preppy mix. With a little bit of boho thrown in, particularly when I’m at home.

8. movies or tv shows?

I prefer movies, because they represent a lot less commitment (America, please stop giving everything like 17 seasons, I beg of you!), however TV show episodes are shorter and easier to slot into your life than a full movie.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

I was generally awful in PE. I liked benchball, can’t say that I was good in it, being yet another game where being short doesn’t do you any favours.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

Either my Kickass playlist, or my Reflective playlist.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Starburst.

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Curled up, on my side, in a nice big armchair with my legs hanging off the side. Surrounded by pillows, and probably a cat or two.

18. ideal weather?

Picture this: it’s a sunny day; warm but not too hot. Maybe around 24 degrees celsius. There’s a warm breeze; it’s not stifling, and it’s not cold enough to make you shiver. The trees rustle with the sound of the wind; change is in the air. You can go out in short sleeves, perhaps with the thinnest of cardigans if like me your metabolism basically died 300 years ago.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Depends on what I’m writing. I am the kind of ineffectual person who starts to write tings in a notebook, but also a couple of word docs. I have post- it notes for important things. I document ideas for my comic in a note/sketch book. I love doodling in my sketchbooks.

22. role model?

I never really had one, growing up. I guess the closest I’d get is David Attenborough.

24. favorite crystal?

My birthstone is ruby (which is red; my favourite colour!) however I also love opals; I love their irdescent (OK, opalescent, technically) sparkliness and the way they shimmer with lots of colours. I don’t see why everyone prefers massive diamonds when opals are like... so much cooler. I I don’t actually own any, but maybe one day I’ll be able to buy myself a nice one.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Go for a nice long walk, take lots of pictures, have a picnic in the park. No, I lie, my favourite activity is roping someone I care about into doing it all with me, and having even more fun. 

28. five songs to describe you?

Home - Ellie Goulding Fight Song - Rachel Platten Working Woman’s Blues - Valerie June Alive - Bird Set Free My Medea - Vienna Teng

30. places that you find sacred?

Already been answered.

32. top five favorite vines?

Alas, hard to name off the top of my head. I mainly know vines from various compilations.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

Right now? Thankfully none of them.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

That’s impossible to say! Memes were a thing before internet memes became a thing. I’d say that ‘S’ shape we all drew in primary school? Nursery rhymes? Who knows.

38. lemonade or tea?

They don’t usually compete for my love, but i have tea more often than lemonade, purely due to availability reasons.

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

Some students climbed onto the roof.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Honestly? Skirt pockets. But being a woman, jacket pockets are usually woefully ineffectual and small. Trouser pockets are a bit better, but again usually small. Whereas if someone puts pockets on a skirt, they make sure they are actually proper pockets!

44. favorite scent for soap?

Maybe honey, or roses, or jasmine.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

A baggy pair of PJs; I’m a dress for comfort kind of girl. Particularly since the places I’ve lived haven’t always been great in the heating department. I’ve been known to sleep in a hoodie when it gets cold.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

I would like to be a berry, or maybe an apple. Something pinkish red. Sweet, and a little sharp.

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

Probably my little brother astounding me with how grown-up he is about things. He’s pretty awesome. Or my mum just saying something wildly, hilariously inappropriate XD

52. favorite font?

I love the Komika font family for my comic. I used to use Bookman Old Style, Book Antiqa, Georgia or classic Arial for essays and things like that, when they didn’t specify Times New Roman.

54. what did you learn from your first job?

Always call the med reg if you are stuck, be nice to the nurses and always help each other. OK, I did lots of volunteering in hospital before FY1. In which case my

56. favorite tradition?

My family/culture have a specific tradition on the morning of an exam/interview/life event where you fill a cup with water and a couple of plant leaves (Slavs love putting greenery into everything). You place it at the threshold,  and give it a good kick it with your dominant foot. It symbolises your knowledge flowing, and I guess it’s a good luck charm.. You also aren’t meant to look back (literally); because you should be focusing on the task at hand. As a kid it was a comforting good luck ritual, and I don’t think I ever really grew out of it.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

I’m proud of my artistic skills, modest though they are. I enjoy creating, and I enjoy that I can make things to cheer up my friends, or things that people here can relate to.

By extension, I’m good with my hands, and that usually translates to picking up procedures and things like that pretty quickly at work. And yes, I love being able to get that cannula in (especially if it’s on the first go!)  when nobody else can. It’s a tiny, tiny thing, but it sparks a little joy. I can develop good rapports with people; which means I can help them to confide their problems, and can help them to feel better or to address things that are bothering them. It’s really mostly about listening and not being judgemental. I am proud that I can sometimes make people feel better, and feel listened to. I’m proud that I learned to try to work through my feelings. As a young person who was really quite stressed, I somehow learned how to apply what’s basically CBT to keep myself relatively sane, and I think it’s helped me a lot. It was only much later that I realised it was basically CBT when I was comparing notes with friends actually going through those kinds of therapies. I’m not perfect at it, and my mind tests me on a regular basis, but it helps.

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

I don’t know what I’d like to be in? Maybe a Ghibli film. I think I’d like that.  When I was at school, a close friend of mine just turned around and said “OMG, you’re just like an anime character”, to fervent agreement from my peers. I guess they meant one of those chirpy, ditzy shojo anime characters. I can still see myself as some shojo series heroine; frantically trying to keep it together under the pressures of magical girldom, being romantically inept, trying to fight off the baddie of the week whilst learning lessons about getting along with each other, being helpful and not being mean.

62. seven characters you relate to?

Right now? Sophie from Howl’s moving castle, Princess Carolyn from Bojack Horseman, Miranda Otto from D. Gray-Man, Elinor Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility, The Red Blood Cell from Cells at Work, Kiki from Kiki’s delivery service, and Aggressive Retsuko.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

I used to love looking at other people’s art on Elfwood or Deviantart.

66. favorite flower(s)?

Today I’m feeling the answer is lilacs.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Ugh anything bitter.

70. left or right handed?

I’m ridiculously right handed, but I’ve learned to use my left hand more effectively because of procedures etc. I’m really good with my hands, but my right hand takes over like 80% of the work.

72. worst subject?

PE in school, biochemistry at university.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

At home, maybe a 3, because I don’t see the point in suffering needlessly. However at work I’ll do whatever it takes to keep functional including taking pain relief before it gets bad because I don’t want to have to deal with pain and an on-call. I’m not sure if the scale is logarithmic? I’d rate the worst pain that I’ve had 5 ot a 6, and that made me vomit and curl up into a ball and basically unable to do anything. But I can imagine pain that’s much, much worse than that was, so perhaps I just can’t thin

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

This kind of new potato salad my mum makes with onions. Raw onions are totally a trigger food for my IBS, and any time my mum feeds me anything full of onions, she’ll tell me I can take them out if they upset my tummy. And every single time I’ll pile even more onions into my plate because there’s no way I’m letting my gut dictate my life. Turns out, I’m even more stubborn than my IBS; I just don’t want to give up some of the foods that set things off. My GP once recommended a FODMAP diet, and having had a look at all the stuff I’d have to cut, I resolved I’d only start cutting things if my symptoms got really bad.

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Honestly, I have no pretentions to snobbery. The best coffee is the one you get when you are about to collapse on a night shift, even if much, much better coffee exists in the world. And the best sushi is the plain supermarket one you get between on-calls to treat yourself, even if the one from a good restaurat is so much nicer.

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

I wear a lot of jewel tones, but I also wear a lot of earth tones, and I don’t really see them as being in competition. Rock all the colours!

82. pc or console?

Phone. XD I don’t play much on either, mainly due to time. Phone has the benefit of being in my pocket when I’m at a loose end on the bus, or at my parents’. I don’t sit down and make time to play, I play games in the stolen minutes here and there when I don’t have much to do.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Classical music radio in the office (because it’s the most neutral), retro stations in the car (or whatever your guests would like), and podcasts at home when you are by yourself.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

I didn’t have a real Barbie (fairly sure ours were knockoff dolls) but I do have fond memories of making outfits for our toys. Though our favourites were always various little animal models who got into all sorts of adventures.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies, but it’s a close call. Really, I’d have to say biscuits, since I eat those more often than either of the above.

88. your greatest wish?

For myself? To be happy. For others? Ditto. 

90. luckiest mistake?

Getting into my first degree. Feels like I fell into it, but it set me off on a great path, and I don’t regret that my initial path was far from straightforward.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

All of the above.

94. favorite season?

That kind of Spring-Summer interface when all the plants are in bloom, and the weather is warm but not too hot, and the days are long.

96. desktop background?

Arietty’s bedroom from the Ghibli Borrowers film adaptation. I’m a sucker for ghibli aesthetic; usually because my rooms end up similarly haphazardly adorned with cool things. 

98. favorite historical era?

Every era has its own awesomeness. I feel very fondly for the regency period because of all the books I’ve read set in it, likewise the Victorian period. Though both aren’t without their problems. I realised that I style my hair like a Victorian; centrally parted with a neat, low bun at the nape of the neck. XD

I think that might be all the questions! Phew!

#ask meme #personal #my life #askdx #ask dx