#but it's just like. still a lot to juggle when wanting to connect w my communities | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ruvatia · 3 years

Note

Sorry if this is a bit much with everything going on, but could I request a scenario where the Paladins + Matt & Lotor have a black s/o and they’re scared abt everything that’s happening in their country and are sad that racial injustice is happening? I’ve been rlly worried the past few days, but if this is smth too uncomfy I understand ;w; Thank you 💖💖💖

This got really long, I apologize but I turned it into half-headcanons with just the main paladins-- i apologize for not doing all the characters you’ve mentioned, but I don’t think they would fit all in a single post anyways www

On another note I hope you and every other reader take good care of their mental health; it’s important to be aware of what’s going on but it’s also important to be in the right mindspace to be able to tackle everything that’s being shared. It’s pain that’s been boiling for a very long time and there is absolutely no shame in taking some downtime to recover before heading back into current issues.

SHIRO:

If you were saddened, Shiro would suggest that maybe you switch to something else; if there was something that he knows will distract you and temporarily have you be a little more at ease, he’d do that!

But also maybe add a little twist-- extra soft blankets (fresh out of the oven! Screw the bills you’re worth it), extra cheese on your favorite dish, whatever it is that can make your smile a little wider, bigger or brighter just let him know!

Would give you hugs if you asked, but usually Shiro pets your head and brushes your cheek for comfort

He also does this when he wants to ask something of you, but thats another story

Why the TV was still on was a mystery to you, you’d stopped listening a long time ago. Your partner besides you noticed, and you felt the hand around your shoulder tighten his grip a little, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, maybe we should watch something else?” he asked softly, brushing your cheek with his hand. “I can’t really listen to this anymore.”

“Yeah… Sure.” you replied, though it felt like an automated response more than your actual opinion.

“Okay, I’ll switch to that weird show Pidge recorded the other day, we agreed to watch it, right?” he replied, quickly grabbing the remote to change the program.

The first episode started playing, but the moment that it did, you felt cold as Shiro left your side.

“Where are you going?” you asked, your interlaced fingers the only thing keeping him close.

“Ah, I thought I’d make us something. We both kinda skipped dinner….”

He’d thought about putting something together that you’d like, maybe order dessert to surprise you but seeing the look on your face, leaving your side was the hardest thing to do right now.

So he gave in, and your both fell asleep until the doorbell rang with your delivery.

KEITH:

I have this headcanon that Keith isn’t very good with physical touch but after the end of voltron and after enough time of humanitarian relief, he learns how important it is for someone that’s in a specific state of mind

So the best he has to offer when his words fail is physical touch

Over your time together he’s learned what you need depending on your mood, and it helped him out lots when you were more vocal about it-- if anything he liked it when you asked for things that he could easily deliver, he’d do anything to see you smile

A hand came over your phone screen, Keith’s fingers lacing into yours and making you drop the device onto the crevices of the sofa.

“Why did you--”

“You’ve been staring at that thing for the past hour, biting at your nails.” he said in a worried tone. “That’s enough. We’re going to bed.”

“But it’s just--”

“We’re going to bed.” he repeated in a harsher tone, lifting you off your seat.

Keith sat down onto the bed first, pulling you into him. You both fell onto the bed, Keith quickly pulling the covers over your shoulders before his arms came around you.

“My alarm is my phone.”

“That’s nice, but we both know we have nothing to do tomorrow.” he replied right away, making you chuckle.

“Keith…” you called, your hands sneaking up to his face.

You brushed away some of his hair from his face as he gave you a complicated expression, unable to reflect the small smile you wore. He knew things were shit outside, that being apart from your family and other loved ones was a toll on both you and that lately negative thoughts have plagued you more often than not but Keith, despite his good intention was still somewhat of an awkward man.

“Thank you.”

He kissed you in reply and you both left it at that, glad that he had someone like you to meet him halfway.

LANCE:

Lots of hugs the moment he feels something is off with you

Will be a brat™ for the sole purpose of distracting you, bET

I feel like post-series Lance tries his best to be as observant as Allura and tries to understand others better-- but it didn't take a genius or incredible empath to know why your eyes looked like they were about to overflow at the sight of the news.

I’d like to think that Lance, with a big connected family is one of the paladins that very easily gets what you’re going through, wouldn’t be surprised he’s been called one or two things in his past either

That being said it doesn’t mean that he completely understands your personalized struggles with racial injustices that you encounter everyday; as another minority himself + coming from a culture and upbringing that might be different than yours, its a very different experience.

Memories flooded as the news anchor spoke about “lootings” and as you scrolled down your feed to see feeble attempts at sympathy from local peacekeepers. You sigh and retweet another thread, only to find something equally as shocking right after. You stopped commenting in quote retweets a while ago, you felt like you were constantly repeating that none of this was okay and that a reform was desperately needed. Rather than typing out your thoughts you typed out your name, address and email over and over again, signing one petition after the other.

Hearing sigh after sigh, Lance eventually put an arm around your shoulder. He startled you, but his soft voice made both your shoulders and your guard lower.

“Hey, do you want to make a midnight snack with me? I’m getting kinda hungry.”

“What about that new rule we were talking about? Not eating 4 hours before we went to bed?”

“Every diet has one or two cheat days, don’t they?” he replied, kissing one of your eyelids. “Come on, I’m sure your neck is sore from being like that for so long.”

In the end you both made some soul-food until a food-coma knocked you out until tomorrow. In the morning, you realized that Lance must’ve woken up in the middle of the night because you remember cuddling on the couch, and yet you’re waking up on the bed. Of course, still in his arms.

HUNK:

Having a sensible heart, I feel like both you and hunk would struggle a little about maintaining a healthy distance with current events.

Though overtime he would understand that keeping in touch with everything that’s going on is important, but not at the sake of burning out

His best bet, to him, to pull you out of a such a dark space is with comfort food

“Ok ppl feel like they want to eat a horse but they actually cant when they’re in that mind space Hunk, let’s make something sweet and small; something direct and straight to the point! Let’s add smiley faces on it!”

Your turned down the volume from the news, let your head fall backwards and brought up your forearm over your closed eyes. It felt warm and made it you realize that you had probably been staring very intensely at the screen as a wave of comfort hit your eyes the moment they were drowned in darkness. Letting out a deep breath, you stilled and let yourself bask in your thoughts until a familiar voice brought you back.

“Maybe a little bit more sugar? No, then it would be disbalanced. The base is already so sweet-- Ah, I have to take the cupcakes out or else they might get burned!”

You felt a smile grow on your lips, making you ignore the horrid news being broadcasted to turn to your partner that as usual, seemed to juggle ten thousand things to create a whole meal.

“What’s going on over here?” you asked, leaning over the counter to note that one of your favorite dishes was made and machines that were mostly used for baking had been brought out.

“Oh you know, just a little pick me up for my most favorite person ever.” he shrugged, but a smile soon came to his face. His hands were full but he leaned over, his lips meeting your cheek. “Things outside are a little dark, so I thought we could both use a little something nice.”

He turned on the machine after dropping a drop of dye to make it your favorite color and within a few minutes the icing was finished. Hunk scooped up a small amount on his finger and brought it to his lips and nod.

“Wanna taste?” he asked you, his finger dipping into the icing.

A mischievous grin spread on your features as you took his wrist and let his finger fall on your tongue, the sweetness quickly spreading through your mouth. The yellow paladin shivered as you let his digit hang in your mouth for longer than necessary, letting out a satisfied hum when you returned it to him.

“Tastes perfect.”

PIDGE:

She knew what could be fixed, she knew how to fix it but this meant she was also aware of how long such a transition would take

I think Pidge would be similar to Shiro: whatever she remembers that helps you be at ease, she would defect to that in hopes to maybe distract you for a while.

I don’t think Pidge is a very touchy person either, so if she reaches out to you _physically_ in worry, it’s a very clear sign she’s serious/anxious

I feel like she would reach out in other ways and then if she knew you were in a specific state of mind where touch was not useful, or if she just also wanted to try things out lol

As you watched the twisted information that was being shared on screen, another message caught your attention. Rather than a small red icon in the corner, a small window appeared in the middle of your computer screen.

The video had stopped, every horrible gif about police brutality was paused and there was nothing else but the small window pidge had thrown onto your screen. You chuckled, and felt a pressure behind your working chair.

Another message popped up.

<You’ve been catching up with twitter for the past two hours. Surely you’re done now?>

A soft laugh came from you, making Pidge release a breath she didn’t know she was holding. You typed out an answer:

<Okay, but half of them are just cat videos and the other half are just retweets of said videos.>

You both laughed, before Pidge turned around and tapped your shoulder. She let her hand float in the air, yours coming to join it as a soon as your turned her way.

“Wanna take a nap?” she asked, letting her head fall onto your shoulder. “I had Chip make some hot chocolate, Hunk style.”

You squeezed her hand, putting your computer on sleep mode.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

#voltron writings #shiro x reader #takashi shirogane x reader #keith x reader #keith kogane x reader #lance x reader #lance mcclain x reader #hunk x reader #hunk garett x reader #pidge x reader #katie holt x reader #for context this was requested around june 2020 #its a year late and thata my fault wjdjan

149 notes · View notes

bcdrawsandwrites · 3 years

Photo

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T

Genre: Angst

Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Loboto’s parents

Warnings: Surgery, lobotomy, hallucinations, child abuse, EVERYTHING IS HORRIBLE AND NOTHING IS OKAY WITH THIS (but there’s nothing graphic)

Description: Just be still, and you'll be fine.

Beta Readers: @jaywings and Rocket (who I’m not sure is on Tumblr?)

Notes: who let me write Psychonauts fanfic. also some of the phrases in this fic were taken from this site.

---~~~---

“Scattering sparks of thought energy

Deliver me and carry me away”

“Here in my kingdom, I am your lord

I order you to cower and præy”

- The Mind Electric, by Tally Hall

---

Sometimes it was nice to just lay down in the park and watch the clouds float overhead.

He often had a lot of energy, both normal and... well... unnatural, but sometimes it was nice to relax, especially when he didn't feel like himself. His energy was ebbing, and there was something… something...

"Can you tell us another?"

He glanced up. Several of his usual playmates were standing around him, their faces lit up in interest. He grinned a wide, toothy grin.

"The boy babbled blatantly but was blessed with a brilliant brain!"

"Good!"

The compliment made his brow furrow. Normally they might cheer "cool!" or "awesome!" but he shrugged—he'd take it. It gave him a warm feeling inside, unlike the frequent chill of his own home. Plus, he couldn’t help but light up as he watched the smiles on his friends’ faces—some of them were still losing baby teeth, he noted, and the progression was fascinating. He knew what he could do to see more of those grins, too...

Without raising his head too much—it hurt a little, and he could see well enough from where he was—he glanced around to make sure his mother wasn't too close by. Luckily she was way off in the pavilion, talking to several other adults. Good; she wouldn't see, and neither would the other prying parents.

"How about this?" he asked, and with a tiny bit of concentration lifted a few rocks off the ground, spinning them in circles. Instead of cheering, however, the children backed away, their smiles fading.

"Look, he's trying to—!" one girl whispered frantically.

"Don't worry, he's fine for now."

He frowned, dropping the rocks. "O-oh, I'm sorry! I didn't think they would see..."

"That's okay. Can you tell us another?"

"Disappointed dogs don't do dangerous deeds." Wincing, he closed his eyes—there was a breeze that seemed to pass over his head only, running through his hair.

His scalp felt cold.

---

"Go on, Caligosto. Show the doctor how you can pick it up."

"Like this...?"

"No, the other way."

"But... mother doesn't like it when I do it that way."

"Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"...Okay..."

The fish swam all about the pond, but came closer to the surface when they realized he was watching from his usual spot on the shore. As they nearned him, he settled over the grass, staring down at his scaly friends. The fish seemed to like his company, and they wouldn't snitch to his parents if he did anything they wouldn't like.

On top of that, he felt a connection with them, almost like the sort of connection he could feel with people. They couldn't talk, and they didn't have facial expressions… but he could almost read them somehow, more and more as he continued visiting. Now he could sense what foods they wanted, or when they were scared of a nearby predator. It was nice to help them out.

It was also interesting to see the different kinds of teeth the fish had—some had sharp fangs, some had tiny flat teeth, and some had teeth in weird places, like their tongue or throat!

"Can you hear us?"

He would have jumped, but that would have scared the fish. As it was, he leaned forward, his eyes wide beneath their glasses. "Yes! I can hear you!" He could hardly contain his excitement. "I'd always thought I could hear you before, but never this clear! Do you think—"

"Good! Can you tell us another?"

He blinked. "Another what?"

"Another phrase."

Oh, right. In his excitement he'd nearly forgotten that he'd occasionally show off for the fish as well, though he'd never been sure if they could understand. "Friendly fish flip-flop fast when facing fearsome foes!"

"Very good!"

Giggling, he settled himself back down on the soft grass. "I'm glad you think so... my parents always tell me to be quiet."

Apparently, the fish had nothing to say to this, for they remained quiet, swimming just under the surface and watching him. So he kept watching them too, observing the light that reflected off their scales. But one creature caught his eye: a small turtle swimming in place. It was odd to see to begin with, but the paddling of its little feet seemed strangely frantic, its front legs moving in big sweeping arcs. It didn't speak, but he swore he could hear it—

Away, away—

---

"Is that... all he's capable of?"

"I'm afraid not."

"D—Father, are we done? I don't like it here..."

"Only speak when spoken to, Caligosto."

"Can we see anything else?"

"Yes."

"I-I don't want to—"

"Caligosto."

"Okay, okay! Let me—"

---

The seas were calm, and he had worked hard today as a navigator (or was he first mate? he couldn't quite remember, but that was okay), keeping a close eye on the compass and making sure they were staying on course. They were nearing the shore, but for now, he was taking a break, resting against a coil of rope with his eyes closed, enjoying the smell of the ocean air and the feeling of sunshine.

And also trying to forget his headache—he was pretty sure he bumped his head coming down from the crow's nest.

"You're doin' good today, mate! Squawk!"

He opened one eye, noting the parrot sitting just behind him. "Thanks, Crackers!"

Birds hadn’t been something that interested him too much at first; what kind of silly animal didn’t have teeth? That is, until he’d learned that birds have a weird organ that acted as their teeth. Fascinating!

The parrot cocked her head at him. "Do you know any more?"

Oh right, of course the parrot enjoyed those phrases. "The pretty parrot perched upon the putrid pirate's peacoat!"

Crackers gave a pleased chirp, ruffling her feathers.

Wincing, he found his headache was starting to get worse, like a bad toothache, and closed his eyes again. "Do you think we'll reach shore soon?"

We won't if you don't get out.

He opened his eyes. Crackers was gone.

---

"STOP! STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"

"What are you doing?!"

"I-I just did what you asked—"

"I didn't tell you to—!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Put him out, hurry—"

"We've seen enough, doctor. We'll schedule an appointment for your son next week."

"N-next week?!"

"Very well. He'll be there promptly."

---

The kids’ expressions had changed from bright smiles to tightly-drawn lips and wide eyes, and it made him shudder. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, it's fine. Tell us another."

"The store..." He paused, concentrating. Strange, he didn't usually have trouble remembering these things, but it must have just been his headache. "The store clerk stood and... stared at me in stupor."

"I would too after what I've seen," one kid muttered, only to be shushed by another.

His heart gave a pained jolt. "Wh-what?"

"Nothing!"

He didn't like the way they were talking—it reminded him of... something else. Someone else. Another child stepped closer to him, looking down at him with a furrowed brow and frightened eyes. He felt the sudden urge to scoot away.

You're in danger.

---

"Wh...where am I supposed to go?"

"Just in through these doors."

"Okay... Why do I have to come back here to the doctor, though? I feel fine."

"Nevermind that. Do you remember what your father told you to do?"

"Yeah! The fun phrases. I know a million of those!"

"Good."

"Would you like to hear... w-wait, who are all these people watching? Wh... what are those?"

---

The fish were swimming in circles and starting to make him dizzy. He rested his head down in the cool grass, but it did little to help. "Oh... sorry. I'm not feeling so good. I should be going home..."

"You can go home soon. Tell us another first."

"Ugh... My mom... m-my... mother makes a... marvelous... meat... mincemeat pie." Recalling these phrases was starting to feel like what he imagined pulling teeth felt like, but a lot less fun. Was his mother missing him now? How long had he been gone? "I... really need to go home now."

"No you don't."

His eyes shot open, and he shivered as he stared down at the fish. "Wh... what did you... say?"

"Don't try to move. You'll be all right."

All of the fish watched him eagerly... but the turtle was still waving its front feet even more frantically.

---

"Don't worry about that."

"N-no! I know what those tools are—I've read my dad's books. You're gonna hurt me!"

"Nonsense. Just lay on the bed and you'll be fine."

"No, I don't want to! You can't make me!"

---

The ship heaved up and down with the swell of the waves. His insides rolled with it, and he remained lying on the coil of rope, waiting for his stomach to stop lurching and his head to stop aching.

"You stopped. Keep going."

"Ugh... The newt... nuzzled in a... n-narrow... nook."

"Good."

"No, it's not, Crackers! I don't feel good..."

"You're fine, squawk! Try to distract yourself."

"Okay..." Opening one eye, he raised a shaky hand, lifting the end of the rope and making it snake through the air, though it shuddered all the while. It was a lot more difficult than usual... Normally he could lift several objects at once, and delighted the crew by juggling them. He felt like he should be able to do other things too, but what?

---

"Oh mercy! He's going to kill someone!"

"Caligosto, if you don't stop this at once, I will call your father!"

"So call him! I want him here! Why didn't he come with me?!"

"Oh no, he's trying to light the chair on fire—"

"Go get the earmuffs, now."

"MOM! DAD! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"GET THEM NOW!"

---

The sun was covered in clouds, and the humid air brought a promise of rain. Why were the other kids still here? Surely their parents would have called them home by now. He wished they would. Surely his mom would have called him, too, wouldn't she?

"Tell us another," one girl asked urgently, taking a hesitant step forward.

His head was swimming. "I-I don't wanna..."

"Tell us now."

Focusing, he managed to force his mind to concentrate. "She sniffed... and s-smelled... the stirring storm."

"Good, tell us another," one fish bubbled from the water.

A sharp pain like a broken tooth filled his skull, his insides felt sick, and the rain was beginning to fall. "I... I can't..."

"Tell us, Caligosto."

"B... Bernie read a book... b-by the... ba—babbling brook." He wanted to wipe the rain from his face, but he felt too exhausted to move his arms. "C-can I go... home..."

"Squawk! We're not to shore yet. Give me another."

He stared up at the blurred vision of the bird. "Why...?"

"Do as you're told."

"Th-the... hummingbirds... hovered... a-and hummed in... heavenly..." His voice broke off into a choked sob. "I wanna... no... I wanna... go home..."

"Caligosto?"

---

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

"Get it on him, get it on—"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

"Where did he go?!"

"The monster's turned invisible!"

"I WANNA GO HOME!"

"There! Put it on right—there!"

"STOP, I WANNA—"

---

"...go home!"

He blinked.

"You are home, Cali," his mother said, beaming down at him with a wide, pearly-white grin.

"I am?" Blinking again, he looked around. Indeed, he was in front of his house, with his parents both standing on the front porch, as they had been when he'd left. On top of that, his head didn't hurt and he didn't feel sick. "I... I am!"

"You're all done with the doctors now," his father said, smiling. "We're so proud of you!"

"You... you are?" He stared open-mouthed; his father had never told him that before. "I'm all done?"

"Yes you are, dear." His mother knelt down, but he didn't come closer—something was making his hair stand on end. "Almost."

His stomach twisted.

"Just tell us another, son."

"N... no..."

The smile on his father's face faded. "Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"N-no... no, no..." He tried to shake his head, but couldn't. "I... I want to go home..."

The pain was coming back, spiking through his head, and he cried out.

"We're going to lose him—"

"No, just a little more."

"No," he sobbed. "No, no! Mom! Dad!"

The park was flooding. The fish were swirling around his head. Waves crashed over the boat.

He had to do something. Anything.

Focusing with everything he had left, he tried to think, tried to move something, tried to make something burn, tried to call for help—

Did—did you hear that?

Cali?

The agony peaked, and his vision turned orange.

---

"Ooooh... ugh..."

"Is this safe?"

"It's safe for us. The psilirium will keep him under control during the procedure."

"But can he still hear us?"

"Son, can you tell us one of your funny phrases?"

"Sure... grass grows greener in the graveyard."

"You see? He'll be fine."

---

There was no park.

There was no pond.

There was no ocean.

There were several doctors staring down at him, a great many more people seated in the theater behind them, and an empty feeling within him.

Something was gone. Something important.

"How do you feel, Caligosto?"

His brain was slow to work, and he could not form the words, but if he could have, he would have answered:

Like... a cavity.

#dr loboto #loboto #caligosto loboto #psychonauts #my art #my writing #fanfic #who let me in this fandom

94 notes · View notes

yoongsgguktae · 4 years

Text

honey, i’m home 03 | pjm

summary; your relationship with your neighbor has evolved into something stable in your life. this morning, you help ease his tension pairing; jimin x reader genre; neighbors!au | s2l | fluff | smut rating; M(18+) word count; 2.9k warnings; cussing, teasing, oral (m receiving), slight penetration with finger (f receiving), spit, saliva, lots of eye contact, some praise kink, exhibitionism (kinda?), ass slapping, boyfriend jimin, the type of man we all want, and cats

a/n i cannot thank @taestybae enough for reading this over, she’s amazing! check out her masterlist for her awesome work. and @dollwithluv for always letting me talk about my ideas. ily. MASTERLIST PART 01 | PART 02 | [PART 03]

—

You placed your baskets of fresh fruits and veggies on the kitchen counter with a heavy thump. Today has been a long day of errands, the majority of your Saturday was spent running around the city in the hot and humid weather. Your shirt clings to your body which only amplifies your discomfort. You made the mistake of leaving your food shopping as the last thing on your to-do list. The farmer’s market is around the block from your apartment, it would be easier to grab your groceries on your way back home. That is until you realized the market was crowded and you weren’t able to get all that you wanted before all the stalls started packing up after a successful day.

You hang your keys on the newly installed hook by the door before heading to your room to change into loose clothing, your body begging to breathe in the comfort of cotton fibers. Jimin insisted on installing key hooks for you; he claims it will help keep you organized, something you desperately need to get better at. He's called you out on many occasions for losing your stuff and he's not wrong. You're well aware of what a hot mess you are, or at least were before Jimin appeared in your life that one night. He’s helped you create better habits and has become a stable influence in your life in the short amount of months you’ve known each other.

The sound of a cat's meow catches your attention as you pass through your living room, making you halt in place. Kitty Cat rounds the corner from behind your sofa, she pointedly looks up at you, greeting you with her soft meows. "Well hello there darling," you say as you bend to pick her up. She meows again in response, cuddling into your embrace. You glance over to your window, only to realize you once again forgot to close it before leaving the apartment. This must have been the third time this week she has come for a visit, seeking your affection. It has become habitual at this point that you’ve placed food and water dishes in your kitchen and a litter box in your bathroom just for her. You brag that you have become her favorite human, that she likes you more than Jimin.

You grab a container full of apples from the baskets you left in your kitchen. Your hands are suddenly full as you step up the small stool Jimin has placed underneath your window, which has made it easier to pass through the threshold and onto the fire escape. Juggling the cat and fruits, you make your way to Jimin's open window.

"I brought you some gifts," you shout, stepping down onto his matching stool, into his living room. You place Kitty Cat on the oversized cat tower with the other two felines who are lounging in their respective cubies just as Jimin enters the space. "I got you a cat and some fruits."

"You left your window open didn't you?" Jimin asks with a knowing smile as he walks towards you. He slips one arm around your waist, bringing you flush against him, your bodies collide softly. He dips his head and captures your lips gently before letting go with a smile as sweet as honey. You'll never get tired of feeling his mouth on yours.

"I was able to grab the last basket of apples available that you asked for." You hand him the container in your grasp, letting his question go unanswered. You know he was going to continue teasing you if you didn’t drop it. He never fails to remind you what may happen when you leave your window open, “some random guy can just show up unannounced in your apartment.” The smirk he gives you whenever he brings it up makes your stomach flutter at the memory. “I also ordered pizza for dinner, we can have it at my place this time.”

"Thank you." Jimin strides to his kitchen to place the basket down. You watch as he runs a hand down his face while he lets out a groan quietly to himself. His arms extend above his head as he bends forward to stretch his body. He was busy this morning, stuck in a meeting for several hours. His upper body is probably stiff from pacing back and forth like you know he does during those long calls. The look on his face tells you the meeting didn't go well.

You make your way over to where he stood, reaching for his back. His tense muscles visibly loosen at your touch as you press soothing circles into his shoulders. His head moves to crack the tension in his neck, it’s an awful sound that you haven't gotten accustomed to, a habit of his that still freaks you out every time you hear the snap. You continue your soft massages, coaxing him to relax against you. "How did it go?" You tread carefully, not wanting to stir up any more stress in him.

Jimin turns around with a low moan escaping his lips, your hands fall to your side at his movement. He faces you and gingerly grasps your wrists to reposition them back onto his shoulders while he moves to drop his head on your own. “It went terrible,” His arms circle your waist again, he breathes in the smell of your hair before he exhales his continued response, "the client made us wake up early on a Saturday, sit through a three-hour-long meeting, only to say they want to push back the date of the release."

He brings a hand into your hair, wrapping one of the curls around his finger. "Such a waste of my Saturday morning. I could have had you laid in my bed, taking care of you as I should." You feel a soft kiss against your neck, and then another one. He trails small pecks down to your collarbone, his hand moving to grasp the back of your head as the other holds your waist to keep you close.

Your hands find purchase in his locks, you revel in his selfless affection. "How about I take care of you?" you whisper. He always thinks about you first, your wants and needs, his always coming second. Your nails scrap against his scalp gently. You know how much he loves it, how much it calms him down. “Let me take your stress away.” Jimin groans in response to your ministrations and at your suggestive words. His warm breath fans your neck.

He lands another kiss on your collarbone. "You don't have to do that for me, baby." He brings his lips up higher, giving you an open mouth kiss just below your ear. “Just having you here with me is enough.”

"But I want to."

His body untangles itself from yours as you move back from his embrace. Jimin lets out a whine at the separation. You slide your hands down his arms, gripping his biceps in appreciation. You have claimed them as yours since you started dating a few weeks ago. And he gladly welcomed your possessiveness; he relishes in your attention and praise, and he’d been unashamed in admitting just how devoted he was to you. You pull him by his hands with a smirk, you already know what he needs. "Come sit on the couch and relax," you hum.

His eyes grow dark with lust as he allows you to guide him into the living room. He takes a seat on his couch, slouching back into the cushion as you pull a leg over his lap to straddle him. His hands automatically find your thighs, running them up and down tenderly. Your own hands find themselves back in his hair as you hover over his lips, close enough to feel your breaths intertwine.

"I missed you," you whisper. Jimin smiles before he captures your lips in a slow kiss.

"I missed you more."

You connect your lips with more need this time. Your mouths immediately open to play with each other's tongue in urgency. His hands move up your body, stopping at your ass to palm you. You moan with appreciation directly into his mouth. You love it when he touches you there, it makes you feel sexy when he plays with your backside. His fingers slide under your cotton shorts, tracing the edges of your panties until he reaches your folds. A shiver runs up your spine at the touch.

You pull back from his lips and drop your face against his neck with a low moan. "I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you."

You feel his body tremble as he lets out a small laugh. He moves your panties aside before he dips a finger around your entrance. He swirls it around, coating it with your growing wetness, and slides his finger up and down your lips tantalizingly slow. "I want you to feel good too."

You shudder in response, more moans escaping your lips as he continues to rub circles around your clit. His finger returns to your entrance every so often to barely dip inside your heat and return to your folds, using your own juices as lubrication. Your thighs tighten around his waist in response to the pleasure building up inside you, your knees dipping further into the couch on either side of him.

You trail kisses down his neck as he toys with you. He shifts in anticipation underneath you in response to your attacks along his neck, your teeth and mouth leaving marks against his clear skin. You reach down between your bodies, your fingers grazing his clothed bulge. You start undoing the ties of his sweats, not wanting to delay his pleasure.

As much as you loved the attention he was giving you, your mind was set on his growing need. You pull his hand away from your heat as you get off his lap. Your lips meet again in a quick sloppy exchange before you hook your fingers into his waistband. You catch his piercing gaze as you kneel in front of him, his legs automatically spreading in response to your position with his mouth hanging open. You’ve never set your eyes on a more beautiful man than Jimin, especially when he spreads his legs for you with lust-filled bedroom eyes.

Jimin raises his body off the couch to ease the effort of tugging his pants. You pull them down along with his briefs, just over his ass, enough to release his member from the confines of his clothing. He sighs at the feeling of his sensitive skin suddenly being exposed to the warm air, as if all his tension has been released. Unable to wait any longer, you don't give yourself time to admire the beauty of his cock before you eagerly reach to wrap your hand around his shaft.

You rub your thumb along his slit, playing with the bit of pre-cum that has begun to leak. His gaze is set on your lips as you position your mouth above his tip. Your lips part slightly as you drop collected saliva onto his awaiting cock.

"Ah fuck."

Jimin hisses as you use your own spit to lubricate him, spreading it up and down his rigid member in slow drags with your hands. His eyes move from watching your strokes back up to your eyes. "You're so fucking good to me."

His hand finds its way in your hair, he wraps his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulls you towards him. Your lips crash against each other as you continue twisting your wrist to please him, the other hand lightly massaging his thigh. His soft moans flow into your mouth, hot breath can be felt against your tongue. You jerk at his tip, giving it special attention. His teeth pull your bottom lip as he lets out a groan in response. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.” You chuckle against his lips. Your own desires stirring with his words of encouragement, you’re determined to give him all the attention he deserves.

You capture his lips once more in a tender peck before you lower your mouth back above his cock. You kiss the pink head softly, his breath hitches at the feel of your lips on him. Your gentle kisses trail down his length, you look up to meet his gaze again. His eyes are blown out with anticipation.

Your thumb moves around his tip with care as you start sucking the base of his cock with open mouth kisses. Jimin's hips buck in response, his moans are music to your ears. Your tongue leaves a glistening sheen in its wake as you drag your tongue up his length before swirling around the tip and taking him in your mouth.

"Holy shit."

His eyes flutter shut and he lets his head fall back against the couch as you take all of him ever so slowly. Your hands grip either side of his thighs while you bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks as he continues to hit the back of your throat. His low pants encourage you to increase the intensity of your motions simply to elicit more of them. Your own thighs start rubbing together at the sound of his sinful moans.

Saliva drips down his cock with your relentless motion, coating his balls with your spit. Your hands remain on his thighs, you’ve been faintly leaving scratch marks against his skin. You grip at his tense muscles, you can sense he's holding back, trying to restrain himself from fucking into your mouth. You release him, a string of your spit still connecting you to him. His head lifts from the couch in disappointment at the sudden loss of contact, your mouth was so warm and tight. His eyes search yours in question as his rigid member slightly sways with no support from your hands or mouth. “Baby, why’d you stop?” he whines.

Your hand replaces your mouth once again with long, even strokes. You give him a smirk as you lower your lips to his balls while maintaining eye contact. You've learned how much he loves it when you give them attention. Your mouth starts to suck at one before taking it fully in with a slurp. Jimin threads his fingers in your hair once again, the slight tug feels delicious against your scalp. A low grunt pushes past his lips while you suckle his balls. He hisses out, "Yes, just like that.”

His body starts shaking, the combined pleasure from your hand along his shaft and your mouth sucking around his base has him seeing stars. You feel his rise in pleasure as his breathing picks up and his moans are dragging out in low guttural sounds. You see the sweat forming along his forehead, his face scrunching up in pure bliss.

From the corner of your eyes, you see a figure appear beside Jimin on the couch. Your gaze sweeps over to find one of his cats looking up expectantly at their owner, wanting her own share of attention. With one of his balls still in your mouth, you look back at Jimin as he becomes aware of the intruder. He watches his cat take a seat on the adjacent cushion as it curiously watches. You can't tell if his cheeks are turning pink because of the pleasure you're giving him or if it's because he's getting shy.

"Fuck, I can't."

He lets go of your head and grabs at your hands. You release his ball from your mouth, confused on why he stopped you. He reaches for your lips, cleaning up the spit running down your chin with his thumb. He holds your face in the palm of his hand. His breathing is still erratic.

"I can't do this in front of her."

It takes you a moment to realize how truly shy he was. "Are you seriously embarrassed to have sex in front of your cats?" You try your best to hold in your laugh.

"Yes, ok. It feels extremely awkward when she's staring at me while you suck me off," he huffs. His cock continues to stand rigid while he explains.

It's just you, him, his cock, and Kitty Cat stuck in a moment of silence before you burst in laughter. He furrows his eyebrows at you, not amused by your outburst. "Are you laughing at me? You think this is funny?"

You fall back to the floor on your butt as Jimin scoots forward on the couch, giggles still tumbling out of you. He stands to pull his sweatpants back up before he bends to scoop you with little effort. His strong arm holds your thighs in a tight grip against him and his other hand suddenly makes contact with your rear. You feel a stinging smack against your ass cheek just as he settles you over his shoulder and you gasp.

"I'll teach you to not make fun of me." His hands slip under your shorts, rubbing his palm over your sensitive skin.

"Oh no, I'm scared." Without a moment of hesitation, he gives you another smack, but this time you moan in response as he palms you again to soothe the sting. He turns, heading in the direction of his room, away from the eyes of his girls.

He drops you on the bed, your body bounces against his mattress, your laughter hasn't stopped. He closes his bedroom door and turns back towards you. Jimin grabs at your calves and pulls you to the edge of the bed. "You won't be laughing once I'm done with you."

—

< PART 02

—

reviews are always welcomed :)

MASTERLIST

370 notes · View notes

cvastals · 3 years

Text

look i kno i said i wasnt gna bring a 6th until i was caught up w replies bt i kno gunner well n therefore felt like he deserved his time to shine in the rp so i beg of u pls plot w him looks at u all like :B

* axel auriant, cis man + he/him | you know gunner paxton, right? they’re twenty-two, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, four years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to bizarre love triangle by new order like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole curling up for days in bed wearing a hello kitty comfort shirt, stuttering in the face of affection, and hand me downs two sizes too big thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is july 31st, so they’re a leo, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( bri, 23, est, they/them )

background.

middle child of the paxton family, cliff being the eldest and wyatt being the youngest :D

they lived at the top of a hill in a trailer in a trailer park neighbourhood in laramie, wyoming so to say the least that fucking sucked for everyone involved

the trailer was so small that all 3 boys ended up sharing a room, gunner and wyatt sharing a bunk bed bc they cldnt fit 3 beds into one room it really was every childs nightmare bt they quickly grew used to it tbh

gunner was always more of an artsy child than invested in sports - though he does enjoy baseball and continued even to this day after their dad made him join SOMETHING in middle school - so he never rly earned their father’s respect, but he was always close with his mom since they had the same calm temperament

(depression/anxiety tw) he also gained a list of mental health issues that their mom had as well, including social anxiety and major depressive disorder

(violence/abuse tw) their father always encouraged pretty volatile behaviour and it caused a lot of physical fights and arguments between the brothers when their dad told them the best way to get over it was to start hurting until someone tapped out, it was just a chaotic and pretty abusive household but no one knew and their mom definitely wasn’t going to say anything about it to their dad

(missing child/kidnapping/anxiety/depression tw) wyatt went missing on a weekend that their parents were gone because of a trip they won, and things just got worse from there, high school was really rough for gunner, his anxiety grew worse as time went on that no one found wyatt, their dad grew more hostile towards them, cliff left home in the middle of the night never to be seen again (merely leaving a note so that the family didn’t think they had a case of two kidnapped children), and their mom just grew sicker, it was rare that she would ever leave her room and if she did it was in fits of random energy where she would do something spontaneous and completely unnecessary to their house as a way of coping

the two years that gunner was at home after cliff left were pretty brutal and as soon as he could, he was fleeing wyoming and going to school in irving

(internalized homophobia tw) things are far better now that he’s out of his home situation, but ofc he still has a few personal things he’s working thru; the paxton’s were raised in an incredibly religious household, and he’s got some classic Catholic Guilt going on upon realizing that he’s not jst attracted to women n he avoided talking abt it forever/stayed in the closet fr far too long bt he’s sort of come out now in his own way even tho he does still get a bit nervous talking abt it rly

he’s also ‘dealing’ rn (just pharmaceuticals) which is frankly funny to think abt bc this man is abt as threatening as a care bear bt money is tight all things considering and a librarian job doesn’t rly cover it, and with the amount of meds he’s on, plus incredibly frequent doctor’s visits, needing to pay for extra epi-pens, inhalers, etcs. bills add up so he’s cutting back his meds n selling wht he can spare which is . so unhealthy bt thts life in corporate america baybee!

details.

is literally allergic to everything. grass, cats, most fruits, milk, most nuts, bees, latex, probably more i cnt even keep up w them its pathetic

u can catch him strutting around town w his blinged out epipen holder (aka blinged out w pins of his fav horrors movies) LKSHDGKLHSKLDG

if things cldnt get worse he also has quite intense asthma so he carries an inhaler with him at all times

n to make matters even WORSE he frequently has dizzy spells n bad memory problems bc of all the concussions he’s suffered from (about 8-9 at this point) as well as consistent migraines that can b literally debilitating sometimes

awkward n jst a bit of a Weirdo to b frank like he barely knows how to converse with ppl

didnt have any friends in high school so took the time to teach himself rly weird things, knows a fuck ton of magic tricks, can yodel, juggle, solve a rubix cube with his eyes closed in under 30 seconds, just extremely weird and specific things

can honestly b a bit mean/barbaric to ppl he’s not close w/doesn’t kno - has told ppl to their face before he doesn’t enjoy talking to them bc he has no concept of social constructs/norms

loves 2 film random things at parties, makes him feel more comfortable at them n he makes short films of them all after

going off that fact he did a film internship in nyc during the summer and is trying to find a job in that field

doesn’t realize demisexuality is a thing so he’s never been that fond of sex but has this stigma in his mind that that makes him Broken so he still Tries n it jst doesnt go well tugs my shirt collar

connections.

ppl who r more into under the counter meds than Hard Drugs n buy off him?? probs wld have to kno him some way hes too scared to sell to Random randoms

ppl he went to school w? :D

some friends………. hes awkward bt he means well…………

ppl he has a crush on/unrequited crushes either way wtvr floats ur boat he crushes quite easily but never does anything abt it fr the most part

a mans he wld Risk It All fr (aka a guy tht he actually has a crush on n is Extra Awkward probs a lil mean to bc hes still New to That)

some enemies tbh, he has a temper n he tends to blow up rarely bt it happens n when it does it actually can b quite scary JKSHDGLHSDG

a muse….. mayhaps?? someone he always wants in his film projects

awkward past hook ups/one night stands where one of them cut ties off cuz every time they got together gunner acted like he was embalming a body for a funeral

current hook ups/fwb’s w ppl he’s actually close w/is comfortable w so its nowhere near as bad SDKHSLDGHKLSDGH

Anything u Desire

#irvingintro #depression tw #anxiety tw #violence tw #abuse tw #missing child tw #kidnapping tw #internalized homophobia tw #tugs my shirt collar at all those tws............. SLKDHGLKHSDGKLHSDKLGHSDG #as per usual i didnt proofread lets all pray bri didnt make a mistake.

16 notes · View notes

weltenwellen · 3 years

Note

my parents mostly try to be supportive of my struggle with ocd. they got me a therapist for a while & i actually decided to stop right before the pandemic hit (didn’t even have issue w germs before) bc i felt better. but my mom got covid recently & it sent me into the worst ocd state i’ve ever been in, & i’m still not doing so good.

i’m trying to juggle school while having extremely high anxiety all the time. the therapy for ocd is exposure response (if smth gives me anxiety, i’m supposed to do that.) ik i need to take the responsibility to get better but it’s so hard. i really really don’t want to get sick & it’s hard to tell what’s reasonably precautionary & what’s over the line.

what bothers me is that every time i communicate w my parents a certain ocd issue i have, they scold me & make me feel guilty (sometimes even kinda make fun of me) for doing these behaviors & then force me to do exposure. they threaten therapy more than offer comfort but our financial situation is not good rn. exposure therapy is so straight forward & i feel like talk therapy didn’t really help me that much.

i’m constantly sobbing alone in the bathroom bc it’s the only place i feel safe. my mom tries to be empathetic and told me she wants me to communicate more bc while she doesn’t want to enable me, she wants to understand better. which is nice, but now i tell her why a certain thing triggers me, & she’s like i’m sorry ☹️ & then she nonchalantly does the exact same thing.

this is so long i’m sorry but i just don’t know what to do anymore & i feel trapped & unsafe no matter what i do. my efforts at communication fail & i feel wrong & bad about myself when my ocd is triggered. my brother makes music & he frequently asks that we all leave so he can record himself singing. i have a hard time leaving the house & ik that’s bad but it sends me into a bad anxiety attack every time they ask me, & i’m trying to do online school which i need to be home to do...

i am so sorry you’re going through such a difficulty time & also that i am responding only now. i think you’re in an extreme high stress environment on an individual level with your parents but you’re also experiencing high anxiety through struggling with this pandemic in connection to your ocd. while i am glad exposure response works for you in the past, while reading your message i thought it might not be the best approach in this pandemic because it’s overwhelming even as you’re not practicing exposure response. this pandemic might make therapy for you an option again because it seems like the world is 24/7 demanding you to practice exposure response while you’re trying to juggle school and a family which comes across at the best as deeply unhelpful. add that to your lack of empathy of your parents and toxic behaviour of your parents, you’re in an impossible situation right now & it seems while you’re trying to hold yourself accountable and improve, there is at times a lack of empathy you have for yourself. through the pandemic a lot of people struggle with mental illnesses for the first time or experience an increased difficulty with them. you’re not weak or incapable of getting better. this current pandemic just has drastically changed the playing field & your ocd has gotten worse because of it. i think rather than controlling it or practicing exposure response, i would try to communicate clearly with your family what you need from them in this current pandemic and how they can help you & I would try therapy again because you’re experiencing such a lack of positive support in your close proximity. try to set boundaries for yourself & if you can, have patience for yourself again and again. also, connect and regularly talk to friends or people outside of your family. it does not necessarily have to be about ocd but if you feel like you’re ready to, please do share that aswell. a lot of people struggle at the moment. you’re not alone in experience extreme struggles during this time. please please please have patience with yourself. don’t let your parents make you feel guilty or make fun of you for having ocd!!!! i know school is important but nothing is important as your mental health. please write me again if you need to 💛💛💛

#Anonymous

9 notes · View notes

thewrongexecution · 4 years

Text

thinkin’ ‘bout final fantasy

I go by Not The Author for exactly the reason that I ain’t no expert on any given work of fiction, but I do like to make connections what make me seem smart: an illusion, haphazardly crafted by incident accident and supplemented by precocious pretentiousness. All the same, here are some fun thoughts I had that you might also enjoy!

I do have a point, that I do get to. I feel like I should say that ahead of time, all things considered. Like, I can appreciate if you can’t appreciate a shaggy dog story? But there is a point to all this.

...Eventually.

Spoiler Warning:

Final Fantasies 1, 6, 7, 7R, 13 and 15

Content Warning:

Discussion of death

Cussin’

Length warning:

5621 words

13 sections

16 digressions

Let’s dig in.

- - - - -

Final Fantasy 1 was not my first Final Fantasy experience, but I think it was the first I ever played by myself? The remaster for the GBA, came bundled with FF2 on the same cart, which I played briefly but did not complete and do not remember, except that it had Cid.

FF1 doesn’t have a Cid, but I really loved the narrative anyway, straightforward as it was, because it was very specifically about spitting in the face of an uncaring god who would doom the world for a laugh. Take these chains that bind us to darkness and, though we be forgot to history, strangle with them that selfsame darkness to bring an end to its tyranny.

((it is a terrible curse, to love time travel. so many grand expectations, so few ever met. play ghost trick, chrono trigger, radiant historia, majora’s mask, outer wilds. have you any recs yourself, lemme know! I digress.

((I digress a lot, as I may have mentioned. they’ll be noted in parenthetical, like this.))

This is the foundation upon which Final Fantasy is built, and while any student of architecture could tell you of many and varied perfectly valid construction techniques, it resonates. Grappling with an immutable past to course-correct an uncaring future is, too, an apt description of personal growth; a theme as universal as being alive. And I, as an impressionable youth, ate that shit up.

((I assume I was young, at any rate. my love for time travel, be it era-spanning or moment-stretching, is, I suspect, not entirely coincidental to my terrible temporal memory.))

And that was the tale of the studio, too. Final Fantasy was so titled because, the story goes, the developers knew they would shutter if it didn’t make bank. Staring your imminent demise in the face, knowing your fate is doom, and giving it your all, all the same.

And then they made another twelve, plus two-and-a-half MMOs, and god knows how many mobile games and spin-offs, and now the Fantasy is that there could ever be a Final one. so say I: life parodies art.

((the half-an-MMO is FF14 1.0, which no longer exists and is a fascinating tale, a rally against bleak futures all its own. I’ll [link] Noclip’s three-part documentary covering the developer’s side of things, because that’s the one I’ve seen. there’s plenty other material to hunt down, though, if you wanna.))

- - - - -

Final Fantasy VII is a game about fate, too. Particularly Death, that most ultimate of fates. Tragic, to be sure; preventable, or at least delayable, in many cases; necessary, at times, for the growth of something new.

Unrelenting. Unstoppable. Inescapable.

Death, and the fights against it, take many forms. There are the fascist death squads that hunt down your ragtag band and any dissent against their cruel masters, but these will only truly stop by cutting off the hydra’s head and building an entirely new society; eight dudes and their dog, faced with a corporate private military, can survive but never win. There are such disasters as do slay that hydra, be they natural or man-made. There’s the space alien and the apocalypse it ushers. There’s literal illness and injury, physical or otherwise. There are the deaths of loved ones, friends and family, that lead to some subtler deaths within those that survive them. The deaths of relationships, by neglect or abandonment. The ideological deaths we inflict on ourselves, accepting ever-growing lesser evils in the name of some impossible ideal.

Every day, the person we were becomes the person we are, and soon, the person we are will give way to someone new, and this, too, is a sort of death. In this sense, we tally Cloud’s deaths at least five: failure to become a Soldier and rebirth in shame, the massacre of Nibelheim and rebirth in grief, arrival at Midgar and rebirth in delusion, his cratering at the Crater and rebirth in nihilism, and his death and rebirth in the Lifestream of Mideel.

((you could prolly hunt down another two if you wanna be cheeky, but I lack the knowledge, motive and patience. frankly, this whole thing is to create a leading line of logic and probably isn’t, uh. academically ethical? or whatever the term is. I’m not necessarily wrong, but I’m definitely scuttling nuance. oh well!))

Now, I say “rebirth,” because that’s how deaths of identity more-or-less work. There’s usually some new identity waiting in the wings to take over. And rebirth is itself a notable theme, inasmuch as it is one outcome of death. But death is oft more final than that, and what people do in its imminence and wake is key here, too. Wutai’s collapse into an insular tourist trap. Avalanche’s vengeful fervor, in general and post-plate drop. Bugenhagen trying to pass his knowledge on to Red. The whole party’s ongoing post-traumatic depressive episodes.

Ultimately, death is the inescapable fate of all things. It’s what we do, in light of that, that makes us who we are.

- - - - -

Final Fantasies 13 and 15 are the only modern Final Fantasies I’ve beaten, and I bring them up because both deal very prominently with fate and death, and as Square’s most recent mainline FF titles, Remake can’t exist without comparison to them. Here’s what I remember:

Final Fantasy 13 was a game I enjoyed. The stagger system mixed up my casual FF tradition of Get The Big Numbers by putting a prominent UI element onscreen that says You Can’t Get The Big Numbers Unless The Bar Is Full. Suddenly there’s a natural-but-enforced ebb and flow to combat built in, where you gotta juggle chip damage, survival, and crowd control while keeping resources enough to burst down a staggered foe, but maintain situational awareness to swap back into survival mode if you’re not gonna down your enemy, all in something close to real-time. Very obviously a direct precursor to the combat of Remake. I didn’t realize the depth of it, but it was still super fun.

People at the time didn’t like the linearity of the game and, I can see that in retrospect? I think it’s closer to, there weren’t breakpoints, there wasn’t variety. It was cutscenes, combat, and the stretches of land between them; the only real thing for the brain to get a workout on was the combat, and eating only one kinda food is gonna make that food taste bland.

((I didn’t mind, but I like idle games, and, also probably had depression around then. Take that how you will.))

The story, though, I loved. You got your uncaring gods forcing mortals to do their increasingly-impossible bidding, cursing them to agonized unlife if they take too long, and with blissful, beautiful death if they succeed. It sucks! And here you have a ragtag band of incidental idiots trying to rebel against a system that, actually, wants them to? Like that’s the plan? Have mortals kill god and summon the devil to destroy all life, because god, doesn’t.... like life anymore?

((The lore gets more than a little impenetrable, and I remember bouncing off it a couple times. The throughline of God Sucks And Makes Zombies was good though.))

The biblical parallels are obvious, and if they weren’t, the final boss’ design will clue you in, god that’s a good design. hang on I can add pictures and already tossed a spoiler warning, here, look at this:

(per the Final Fantasy Fandom Wiki [X])

That’s literally The Holy Trinity But A Sword The Size Of A Building. It’s perfect.

Anyway, I love this game, because the heroes win, which is what God wants, so in winning, they lose, as was fated to be, right? Fuck All That, say the lesbians from space australia, as they turn into satan and, as satan, stop God’s shitty metal moon from crashing into space australia and destroying all life.

((this awakened something in me, though, as is becoming a theme, I wasn’t aware of it at the time. actually hold up I’m gonna rewatch that sequence.

((yeah okay wow on review that was aggressively cheesy and had a whole bunch of weird emotional whiplash that just leaves a super-bad aftertaste. I don’t really like it as an experience, but big bazonga lesbian satan with arms for hair is still a look-and-a-half.))

The whole thing is not entirely unlike if meteor was also Midgar, and there’s more than a few points where I went, hang on, are they trying to evoke 7 here? “Lightning” is ex-military and bad at emotions, Sazh is a black dad w/ guns and emotional trauma and I love him, quirky pink healer girl who might be an alien is here, the game starts on a train and leads into a robot bug fight; obviously it’s not one-to-one but the connections are there for a brain like mine to make, and only more prominent for the fact that FF7 was the more satisfying game.

((I cannot speak to 13-2 or -3; 13-2 was fun up until the enemies were abruptly 30 levels higher than me, more or less a mandate by the game for me to do all the side content, which I was not on-board with. I skipped 13-3 entirely, especially when I learned the whole game is on a timer. did not and do not need that stress in my life.))

- - - - -

But okay, FF13 was “too linear” and wasn’t doing super great. Enter Final Fantasy Versus 13, by which I mean enter Final Fantasy 15 actually, we don’t need any more of this 13 crap. And once again, I enjoyed it! ...Right up until it was bad.

Final Fantasy 15 was not a finished game, and we know this for certain now, because all its DLC was to make it a finished game. At the time, though, there was uncomfortable and inconsistent story pacing, only one playable character, relatively sparse combat mechanics... but it was open-world, and hey, that’s what you wanted, right? open, non-linear environments? I picked it up because, Teleporting Swordsman With a Motorcycle Sword. I am of simple pleasures, and those are they.

Of the little I remember, one point that’s stuck with me is the sequence following the Leviathan fight. See, we’ve been talking about fate and destiny and how Final Fantasy likes to spite them. Here in 15, our main man Noctis doesn’t want the destiny he’s been burdened with, to Become The King and Save The World from the Coming Darkness, or whatever. He’d really rather be doing, anything else? like hanging out with his buddies or actually getting married or, I dunno, grieving the death of his father. Nope! You don’t get to do that. Go find the ghost armaments of your dead ancestors so you can ~saaave the wooorld!~ I would have been in college around then, so, eminently relatable.

Now, on this journey, you meet a guy called Ardyn. He’s the sort of character that was built as an attack on me personally: sleazy, charming, possessing airs of casual familiarity with people he’s never met, kinda helps you out in tight spots, and also, by the way, vizier to the empire that killed your dad and wants you and your friends dead too. But not in the “secret good guy” way, he just likes fucking with you! he’s perfect.

Right up until the Leviathan fight.

See, Lunafreya, your betrothed--

((I’m so mad about this stupid, stupid garbage. I love Lunafreya on principle, but the game doesn’t bother to give her screentime. you only ever hear about her incidentally, which can be cool if you then meet the character and get to compare/contrast what you’ve heard, but the initial release only has her show up for this one chapter, and your party doesn’t really get to interact with her that much.))

Your betrothed is here and she’s some symbol of the peoples’ hope, right? she’s got light magic or something, and can actually commune with the gods. the gods are on your side, but you can’t actually understand a word they say, but she can, and that’s sick as hell. anyway.

You lose the fight against Leviathan, because you’re a shitty emo teen who doesn’t know how to use your ghost swords, and she got beat up earlier when Levi got all pissy at being summoned. And then Ardyn shows up in his magitek dropship.

Now earlier, Ardyn had Luna as his captive, completely at his mercy, and right now, he who would be king of kings, destined to save the world from darkness, is clutching at rock in a hurricane, beaten, wounded and dying.

Of the two, which do you think he stabs to death?

if you thought, “the protagonist, which will allow him to win, and subvert Final Fantasy’s themes of defying fate by having the villain be the one to do it, forcing everyone else to scramble for some alternate solution and deal with the fallout,” congratulations! You win disappointment, because that idea’s cool as hell and they didn’t. fucking. Do it.

((Ardyn, before this, had given me major Kefka vibes, and thinking on it now, the world descending into darkness in the 15 we never had could have played with even deeper parallels to FF6... but I never played 6, and that FF15 doesn’t exist, so... I’ll leave that analysis to better scholars.))

now, with the benefit of hindsight, that was never going to happen. too long in development hell, game had to ship, had no time or budget for mid-game upheaval. but at the time? made me lose any interest I had in Ardyn, made me mad at the developers for passing up on fulfilling the themes their series had explored in past, made me almost stop playing the game. I’m still mad about it for crying out loud!

((thinking about it gets me tensed up, coiled, with that sort of full-body thrum that’s best conveyed with letters that jitter around. best I can do here is bold italics, but it doesn’t have the right energy. it’s a fleeting feeling, but when it’s here? god. given the men that wrote this scene I would fight all of them and win.

((inhale...

((exhale...

((and move on.))

We, the player, never really meet Luna, so there’s no real... impact, no substance to it. It’s sad, but impersonal. villain kills damsel to inflict manpain on hero. that’s it. we’ve seen this song and dance before.

But kill Noctis? The character the player’s been controlling all this time, who they know intimately? Now it’s personal. Now your party members’ grief is a mirror to your own. And now you get to play as Luna, maybe? give the game time to flesh her out, have her bond with your old companions over their shared grief, and maybe use her connections and public speaking skills to rally the people of the world, in a perhaps-vain attempt to resist the oncoming darkness, while simultaneously using that public-facingness to drive her to hide her own fear and hopelessness...? That’s a complex character ripe for drama and tragedy right there! And then her, at the head of a story about people coming together to solve a global calamity themselves, rather than await their appointed savior?

Even then, but especially now... You can see the appeal, right?

- - - - -

Lemme step back and zoom out for a moment, because there’s one more kind of Fate to discuss before I finalize my thesis. Yes, I promise, there is a point besides being mad at FF15, this is still ultimately about Remake. Bear with me a little longer.

See, Remake’s premise is that it’s not quite FF7, but that itself is predicated on Remake being essentially FF7. Certain things must be in the Remake series, or it will cease to be the Final Fantasy 7 Remake series. The developers have gone on record saying as much, that they’ll still cover the thrust of the original, and that makes a lot of sense from a development standpoint. Building on an existing framework saves loads of time, and lets them focus on details as they have in Remake.

((I think they've already set up an in-universe justification for this, too. The party may have defeated the Whispers at Midgar, but the Whispers are the will of the planet. The only way to truly defeat them would be to defeat the planet itself, which: kind of the goal of the villains!

((a bit ironic, because the villains are the Whispers’ means to keep manipulating events. Remake backends a very large portion of the plot, and I don’t think Rufus seeing the Whispers is a throwaway detail. The party chases Sephiroth by chasing Shinra in the original, so even if the party has shaken free of the direct influence of the Whispers, manipulating Shinra should in turn manipulate the party.

((on top of which, Rufus prizes power, and the power to change or control fate-- something both the party and Sephiroth have seized-- would be as enticing as anything.))

But this begs the question: How much of Final Fantasy 7 is necessary before it stops being Final Fantasy 7? Do you need all nine characters? The Weapons? Rideable chocobo? Breedable chocobo? What about locations? Can you drop the Gold Saucer? or Mount Condor? or Mideel? How many minigames am I holding up? These are necessary questions, but so is this:

“Would a one-to-one recreation of the original game have the same emotional impact as when it released, twenty-three years ago?”

- - - - -

Now, the phrase “emotional impact” is necessarily kind of nebulous and subjective, so lemme dig into that a little bit.

The first significant chunk of the original FF7 takes place entirely in Midgar, which is one huge city. Every screen is densely packed; movement is typically constrained to narrow corridors and industrial crawlspaces. The whole world is deeply claustrophobic and visually hostile, by design.

This is FF7 for the first few hours, before a motorcycle chase deposits you outside city limits, and then... you hit the world map, and everything changes. The world is rendered in three whole dimensions, now! (Then, a technological marvel in its own right.) There’s a sky! There’s a horizon! Grass, mountains, the ocean!

Boundless, terrifying freedom.

From a mechanical standpoint, there’s only one real destination, an A-to-B with random encounters before a small enclosure with an inn and shops, no real change from what you’ve already been doing. But the mood? Everything’s fresh and new, now. Everything’s an unknown.

So, how do we do that again, two-and-a-half decades on?

Let’s say, something like this: Remake 2 starts with Cloud and Sephiroth en route to Nibelheim. For new players, this provides immediate intrigue: why are these mortal enemies hanging out in a truck? how did they get here, where are they going? For veterans, it’s familiar: oh, we’re in the flashback sequence.

For both, it provides mechanical familiarity. We just finished last game hanging out in Midgar, a bunch of town squares with shops and cutscenes connected to hazardous corridors. Well, Nibelheim’s a town with shops and cutscenes, connected to a monster-filled anthill and capped with a reactor. We know this. We’ve done this. We can do this again.

And when the flashback ends, we’re in Kalm. Another town, maybe with sidequests this time; Midgar looming in the distant skybox as a reminder of how far we’ve come.

And then you leave Kalm, and the camera zooms out, and out, and out...

Remake is essentially 7, and you can’t have the impact of 7′s world map reveal if Remake isn’t functionally open-world too. Square has plenty of experience with open environments, however successful their more recent attempts have been; I’m confident that the have the ability, at least, to craft an expansive world that feels appropriate to FF7.

((I’d like to take a moment here to talk about FF14, which mixes both compact twisty dungeons and wide-open overworld zones, and is necessarily wildly successful to still be operating as an MMO... but though I have played it briefly, I don’t claim knowledge sufficient to go in-depth. The point is, Square not only can make a game like that, they have, and are, and apparently possess non-zero competency. I have worries, but I’m not worried, if that makes sense.))

So, can you recreate a given kind of emotional impact? Yeah!

Can scenes from the original Final Fantasy 7 be rendered into a new context, more-or-less as they were? Absolutely!

Would a one-to-one recreation of the original game have the same emotional impact as when it released, twenty-three years ago?

- - - - -

Aerith dies.

If you opened this post and didn’t know that, well. There were spoiler warnings up at the top, the game’s more than two decades old, and the spoiler itself is basically a piece of pop-culture, up there with space dad and wizard killer. There’re probably plenty of people who know next-to-nothing about Final Fantasy 7 except that Aerith dies.

Everyone knows because, at the time, it was so big a thing. This was a title that Square hyped to heaven and back to push JRPGs into mainstream western markets, and it worked. And this was before major death was so common and arbitrary as it is today; even now, Game of Thrones and its ilk are a relative rarity. The death of a protagonist or love interest wasn’t a new thing for games, or any media really, but usually you knew it was coming, or it served some purpose. Aerith’s death was sudden, arbitrary, you’re almost immediately thrown into a boss fight so you don’t even have time to process it right away, and it’s the first stone in an avalanche of other pointless arbitrary tragedy. It’s an obvious narrative setup for the endgame confrontation with Sephiroth; instead, Cloud has a breakdown, Meteor happens, and now there’s an entire Disk 2.

Fandom has always been fandom, even before the continuous immediacy of the modern internet, but... people wrote letters to Square, and got sad on message boards. There’s an entire subset of forum signatures, back when those were a thing, that you could sort as “people fucked up over Aerith dying.” And again, this was the world. Not just Japan, or Asia, but everyone.

((Or, everyone with the finances to have a PS2 and/or an internet connection. Gaming as a pastime remains way expensive, whether played or watched. But you know how it is.))

And that’s the problem with answering that question.

See, FF7 is a lot of things, but for better or worse, it is defined by Aerith’s death. It’s one of many factors, but you can’t... leave it out, right? or it wouldn’t be FF7 anymore.

Aerith dies in FF7, and everyone knows it.

- - - - -

But Remake has promised, repeatedly, that things will be different this time. Everyone is coming together to defy fate, and Cloud in particular is here to keep Aerith from dying. Bodyguard jokes aside, Cloud repeatedly has flashbacks (flashforwards?) to Aerith’s death and the events leading to it. When he meets her in the church, when they cross into Sector 6, twice in the final battle. Hell, the very first time they meet, Sephiroth taunts him about not being able to save her. Even from a metatextual standpoint, since everyone knows Aerith dies, that’s like, The Most Obvious Fate To Change.

If, after all that, Aerith still dies? It’s not just tragedy, at that point. That’s the developers, actively lying to the player about their intent in making this game series. That’s frustrating, and immersion-breaking, and when said death is likely to still have one or more entire sequels to come after? maybe not great for sales! I know I didn’t bother buying the complete edition of FF15; I couldn’t bring myself to care enough about a game that set up this cool possibility, and then just, failed to deliver on every count.

And, Remake is being made for two audiences. I’ve said “everybody knows Aerith dies,” but that’s not really true, is it? It’s been 23 years, after all. Remake could well be someone’s very first Final Fantasy experience. That’s why they’ve been telegraphing Aerith’s death so hard. Not everyone knows, but at least everyone can guess. Is it fair, then, to this new audience, with potentially no knowledge or understanding of the legacy of this flashy new action game, to foreshadow tragedy in the future, have everyone come together to say, We’re Going To Stop This, and then... not? Is that good writing? Is that satisfying? When this is a multi-game and potentially multi-console investment of time and money, is this, as a newcomer, a story you’d want to keep playing?

And then on top of that, it’s 2020.

I don’t mean that in the current-year-fallacy, “we’re better than this now” kind of way. Rather, the way I felt about Final Fantasy 15 is even more relevant now. People, in real life, are realizing that the powers-that-be are failing them, have failed them, have been failing them for far longer than twenty-three years. The people that already knew that are actually showing up for each other, to spite what felt and feels like inescapable fate and finding that, together, they might just be able to ruin God’s day.

Game development is, of course, its own whole beast, and projects in motion tend to stay in motion; deviating from a plan takes time and money that Square may be unwilling to spend. But, under current world circumstances: is making a game where the hero sets out to save one specific person from their fated death, and following that with a game where that one specific person dies anyway, aside from everything else, a good business decision?

- - - - -

So... Aerith, shouldn’t die, right...? But, FF7 requires Meteor, and so requires the Temple of the Ancients and the Black Materia. And, Meteor can only be stopped by Holy, so FF7 requires the Forgotten City.

FF7 is a tragedy. FF7 demands blood.

...Hey, actually, hold that thought. How come Cloud can remember Aerith dying in the first place? He’s not from the future, right? He’s got a connection to Sephiroth, who is from the future... and Sephiroth can manipulate his memories...? but, why would Sephiroth let him, or make him, remember that?

Hey, how come Zack is alive, but like, in the “narrative scope” sense? Wouldn’t his presence circumvent Cloud’s delusions about the Nibelheim incident?

Hey, how come Cloud had multiple big climactic Sephiroth confrontations at what’s essentially the end of the prologue, including one that mirrors the very end of the original FF7? Shouldn’t that still come at, like, you know. the end?

Hey, how come--

- - - - -

Remake has these... Callbacks? Refrains? Like my favorite, when Sephiroth throws a train-- you know, The Fate Metaphor-- at Cloud, who absolutely shreds the thing. Or, for a more direct example:

And it frequently uses these to show that people are changing, that things can change. You know, the whole Running Theme the game has going on.

Sephiroth gets a refrain, too.

At the start of the game (give or take a reactor), in his first real appearance, Sephiroth philosophizes at Cloud, makes sure Cloud hates him, and tells Cloud what he wants.

At the end of the game, in his last appearance, Sephiroth philosophizes at Cloud, tells Cloud what he wants, and makes sure Cloud hates him.

Structurally, these encounters more-or-less bookend the game; thematically, it doesn’t exactly indicate change. Barret may or may not have come around on Cloud, and his admission that Cloud is important to him after all is, itself, important. Cloud, on the other hand, was always going to defy Sephiroth. He stands resolute, now, ready to fight rather than flee, but apathy was never on the table.

Now, Sephiroth’s whole Thing is psychologically manipulating Cloud to get what he wants, and as part of that, what Sephiroth wants is usually not what he says he wants.

All throughout the original FF7, Sephiroth riled up Cloud so that Cloud would pursue and defy him, culminating first in the Black Materia incident, and then again in the Forgotten City. None of the Sephiroth clones could survive the trip through the Northern Crater, so Sephiroth had to lure Cloud, with the Black Materia, to him, and then also convince Cloud to give up the Black Materia of his own accord. Mind control, memory manipulation and illusions were involved, but if Sephiroth could maintain those indefinitely, he probably just. Would have done that instead. Way easier,

The point is, in Remake, in addition to all the intermittent retraumitization sprinkled throughout the game, Sephiroth goes out of his way twice to directly ask Cloud, “hey, you hate me, right?” And, as part of that question, he tells Cloud, “this is what I want.” And Cloud? He hates Sephiroth, and will do his damnedest to keep Sephiroth from getting what he wants.

So. What does Sephiroth... say he wants?

- - - - -

One last aside before we cap off: This post would not exist without the valiant efforts of one Maximilian_dood. His devotion to the series kept myself and many others engaged and excited and, frankly, hopeful, in the leadup to the release of Remake, and his correlations between the rest of the FF7 series and Remake were enlightening and entertaining.

and had he not the gall to identify defying fate as a device to make aerith’s death more tragic, I would never have been angry enough to write this.

((I know, I know. Gaming and streaming and lit analysis are all hard individually, and I don’t begrudge losing one for the other two. And it was a first playthrough! I might have seen these lines sooner than some, but collating all this info was certainly not instantaneous. And Square can be hack writers at times-- see again my rant on FF15-- so even then, I can’t discount the possibility.

((but, still.

((Really?))

So, while I would like to believe that I have, by now, made my thesis on Remake’s narrative direction abundantly clear, here it is spelled out anyway:

- - - - -

At the bottom of the Forgotten City, at the shrine on the pillar in the lake, Cloud will find Aerith, who believes her fate immutable.

Sephiroth will descend, and Cloud will sacrifice himself, that Aerith should live.

This is Sephiroth’s plan.

- - - - -

Hey, thanks for reading this far! With my conversational tone and rambling tendencies, I’d have preferred to make this an audio post or, god forbid, a video essay, but I got a keyboard, and that’ll have to do. Diction is important to me, as the capitalization, italics and use of punctuation may have clued you in on, so... maybe you’ll get a dramatic reading sometime in the future? but, don’t bet on it.

Feel free to riddle me with questions, or point out inconsistencies with this big ol’ thing! I’m not exactly an expert, and I’m sure I glossed over, heavily paraphrased, completely forgot, intentionally ignored and/or aggressively misrepresented some stuff, but I love learning and teaching esoteric bullshit about The Vijigams. On that note, anything that sounds like it should be sourced is sourced from “I heard about it on social media or in a stream or youtube video one time, but if I actually had to hunt it down this whole thing would never see the light of day, and it has already been like three months,” which isn’t to excuse my lack of due diligence, but I do, lack diligence, so, tough.

Oh! but the Remake screens all come from [here]. Don’t care much for that splash screen, but, I Get It, so, whatever.

There were some other things I wanted to touch on but couldn’t really find a spot for. FF7 Remake as a metaphor for its own development, for example. Or, some of The Possibilities, like how Cloud’s death could very literally haunt Aerith, or how Remake sets up a more fleshed-out Midgar revisit that Cloud’s death specifically would make infinitely sadder.

On that note, if it was not yet obvious, I love speculation, and if they do go this direction, it’ll probably be their justification to go completely... off the rails? Remake only has to be FF7 until it doesn’t, after all. If there’s some wilder implications youall see for like... I dunno, a Jenova more fully-regenerated from also having Cloud’s cells back, getting into proper Kaiju-on-Kaiju battles with the Weapons, or anything like that? Feed me your brain juice, etc.

And, once more, for the road: this is interpretation; subjective, opinionated, and very much in denial of any kind of author-ity. Nor is this a claim on how things should be, or an assertion that this would be good or bad. Everything ultimately rests on Square's narrative design team and, we’ve touched on them already.

((but, for your consideration: I’m smart, and right))

Here’s hoping, whatever happens, we get the game we deserve.

thanks for coming to my ted talk, have a great day

#In This Essay I Will but for real this time #but hell if that's stopped me before #ff7 remake #blatant speculation #ff7 remake spoilers #ff7 spoilers #ff13 spoilers #ff15 spoilers #I dip into spoiler territory on more but these ones get a deeper dive #also if any of y'all know how to get images screen-read-able please lemme know #the screenshots are to point out that the game itself does do these things #but I don't wanna content-lock anybody out of my bad garbage #also also if the wordcount didn't clue you in:#long post #posting this right now immediately listening

8 notes · View notes

bigamcthyst · 4 years

Video

TASK 001:

FLAUNT Magazine sits down w/ Amethyst Pryce!

Amethyst is struggling to hear over a blow dryer. We’re in a small photography studio in at PRYCE Production Studios and the 26-year-old beauty is honing her look before the shoot. Everyone was a little late (traffic), but now the space is humming with garment hangers sliding across clothes racks and paper grocery bags shuffling snacks to their designated areas. Amethyst is seated in a sweatshirt, juggling two stylists preparing her for a shoot, interview questions, and FaceTime calls from a teenage sneaker broker and influencer. Last night she was battling with her event planner trying to iron out details for her upcoming event for the famed PRYCE Productions, and she’s preparing for a huge roll out to reintroduce the company to this generation. But despite this dizzying to-do list, the Bay Area native is relaxed, almost unbothered. It’s just another day in Amethyst’s world. Her brother Akeem Pryce is nearby, keeping her sane by forcing her into rap cyphers with him. This puts a lot into perspective but the question still remains: who is Amethyst Pryce?

Interviewer: For those who don’t know, tell us a little about who you are.

A: I’m the daughter of Allen Pryce, one of the most critically acclaimed producer/directors in the movie and TV industry. My brother, Akeem and I are the heirs to PRYCE Production.

Interviewer: That’s a crazy world to be apart of, dating must be crazy? Do you find it harder to date?

A: Well I think I make it hard, I don’t allow myself to make one person a priority.

Interviewer: Now you said ‘person’, does that mean you aren’t totally hetero?

A: Amethyst smirks, before giving a simple head nod. Women are nice to look at, can you blame me? Don’t get me wrong I love men, but it’s something about loving a woman that just... I can’t explain it.

Interviewer: So in your own words, what do you identify as?

A: I’m bisexual, gender wise I am female and I use she/her.

Interviewer: So earlier you mentioned that you were an heir, let’s expand on that and your role at PRYCE Productions.

A: Sure, I have taken on the role as Producer/Screenwriter. I’ve pretty much been a writer my whole life. I’ve always loved having writing as an outlet especailly with everything I’ve been through. The producer role was introduced to me by my father, who got me the opportunity to intern for Quentin Tarantino.

Interviewer: Wait, THE Quentin Taratino?

A: Yes, Mr. Pulp Fiction himself.

Interviewer: I have to admit, that’s pretty impressive. How did he introduce you guys and did you even know how big of deal that was at the time?

A: The day of my 17th birthday, and it was the summer, July 7th. Cancer gang baby! So I was old enough to know like who he was and what that opportunity would mean for me. I just remember my Dad calling me into his office and there he was. Quentin Tarantino in a tie dye shirt. And the rest was history.

Interviewer: So I’m sure you gained a lot knowledge and experience from both him and your father. Are you afraid of letting them down? That’s a lot of pressure for someone who isn’t even in their 30s yet. Do you have any fears at all?

A: I can’t lie and say I don’t feel any pressure but pressure makes diamonds and I’m already a gem. I think I’m just afraid to not accomplish everything I want to professionally and personally before I die.

Interviewer: So, what are your aspirations:

A: I want to make my first million dollars from a film or TV show that I wrote and produced by myself, no Daddy involved. I got all this old money, I wanna be able to say I got some of it on my own. I want to find love someday and have a big ass family. I really want to have a house in the Philippines as well. A big ass crib.

Interviewer: Most of your goals seem pretty family-oriented, which is surprising because you’re very driven and flashy. Some could mistake you for boujie, especially with your upbringing. What do you have to say about that?

A: I get that assumption a lot. Crazy thing is, I’m only so ‘flashy’ because of my mother. I remember watching her get decked out in the flyest shit to go to galas and movie premieres with my father. She was an amazing host and always had us looking fly whenever she hosted parties. I get my sense of style from her. She was everything. I’m not boujie though, maybe a lil girly but hey.

Interviewer: Some people may be familiar with the tragic loss of your mother, but to some this is all new information so if it’s alright, can you talk a bit about that?

A: My mother was diagnosed with stage 3 brain cancer, the proper term is Glioma. My brother and I didn’t know because she begged my father not to tell us. So we basically went on about life like nothing was wrong. Eventually her condition worsened and she ended up in intensive care in the hospital, soon after that she was gone.

Interviewer: That must have been tough, I couldn’t imagine dealing with something like that. I’m so sorry for your loss.

A: Thank you but I didn’t lose her, I gained an angel. I talk to my mom every chance I get. On days I feel like I can’t get through, I just feel her presence and her love. It’s funny because even in the afterlife, she remains the glue of our family.

Interviewer: That’s a beautiful way to look at it, you have this strength about you that just glows. How are you not married yet?

A: Shit, you tell me honey? If you let my best friend Ashtyn tell it, I’m a grandma and a prude.

Interviewer: Are you really?

A: Hello no, but she thinks I work too much and don’t make enough time to play. And she’s not wrong, but I just feel like if you like me then you should be fightin’ for my attention. Chase me and I’ll love you forvever. A girl likes to feel appreciated.

Interviewer: Well, you heard it here first ladies and gentlemen, if you want a chance with Amethyst you’re gonna have to come correct.

A: Period! Nah but I just want some romance, like 4 page letter, getting caught in the rain kinda romance.

Interviewer: Well since we’re on the topic, what are your likes and dislikes?

A: I like wings and I love sushi. I dislike waiting and I hate repeating myself.

Interviewer: So impatient and greedy? Got it.

A: Oh, wow. I can’t say you’re wrong.

Interviewer: If you had to describe your social media presence, what would you say?

A: My twitter is a bunch of inside jokes and me rambling at 3 A.M. Snapchat was originally just for my close friends but I’ve opened it up for my fans so I can take them through my work days at PRYCE Production studios and just my work days and trips in general. My instagram is my favorite app to use because I get to showcase my style. I love to put looks together. I’m the type of girl to beat my face and get dressed just to go get a snack from the kitchen.

Interviewer: Now take us through your phone, what’s going on there?

A: I have three phones. One is a business phone, for all holllywood friends, contacts and connections. One phone is kinda like a business phone but I use it to stay in contact with staff at PRYCE Production studios. And the last one, of course, is a personal phone for friends, family and a boo thang when I get one.

Interviewer: Okay, I love to end interviews with this question becasuse the answer says a lot more about you than anything else will. What is your music taste like?

A: Oh that’s a hard one. I really love all genres. I can go from Biggie to Mary J. Blige, to Old Dominion, to Elton John, to Queen to Frank Ocean, to Juvenile, to Too Short... It all depends on the mood I’m in or the mindset I need to be in at that moment.

Interviewer: I think that is officially one of my favorite answers. Amethyst, thank you for sitting down with me today. I can’t what to see what you do with PRYCE Productions

A: Thank you, it was a pleasure being here with you, truly. This was fun.

#🄿🅁🅈🄲🄴 — tasks.

8 notes · View notes

letswritefanfiction · 4 years

Text

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’m borrowing this!”

“Wait, hey, that’s my bike!”

“I’ll give it back someday!”

No!

-x-

“Listen, I’m sorry about your bike, but I’m gonna need some time to make things right.”

“No way! I fell for that last time!”

-x-

“Are you following us?”

“No! This just happens to be the quickest way out of the forest!”

-x-

“I’ll tell you what, Ash. If you ask really nicely, I’ll help you out.”

“I don’t need any help.”

-x-

“They say if two people fight, they really care about each other.”

“Me care about her‽”

“Me care about him‽”

-x-

“Really? Since when did you decide to worry about me?”

“Not you! I’m concerned about Pikachu!”

-x-

“They’re not mature enough to admit it, but they really like each other.”

“You know what, it’s exactly the same thing with you and Ash.”

“…”

“YOU MUST BE CRAZY!”

-x-

“That’s great, you finally got your bike back! Now you can get home fast.”

“Whoop-de-do.”

“Why are you so grouchy?”

“I’m not grouchy—why don’t you just leave me alone!”

-x-

“I could have managed without your help, you know.”

“Yeah, we know.”

-x-

“Will I see you again?”

“You will. I swear.”

-x-

“Are you sure you’ll be okay without me, Ash?”

“I’ll be fine.”

-x-

“I guess you guys should go now.”

“Okay, take care.”

* * *

The video phone’s screen flickered to life as the call connected, leaving Ash near giddy on the other side. Even in just the past couple years, video quality had gotten so much better—he could see ever detail on the other side of the screen, almost like he was there.

“Hey, Ash, long time no call.”

“Heh, sorry about that, Mist.”

In the couple years since Misty had left the group, Ash had realized just how bad he was at maintaining contact with people. Truthfully, it was any wonder he hadn’t gotten a good tongue-lashing from his mom on that very topic years ago.

“Congrats on the Sinnoh League,” she said, a big smile on her face.

“Aw, it was just top four—nothing too exciting.”

“But that means next year it’ll be top two! And the year after that…”

“I’ll win!”

“Maybe. If math is on your side. But I know math isn’t exactly your forte, so you might have to get studying to pull it off.”

Ash frowned for half a second before he let it go. Misty was grinning on the other side of the screen—making fun of him seemed to bring her joy like nothing else—and he just couldn’t frown for long like that.

“Well, I was going to ask you a question, but now I’m not sure if I want to. You’ll probably just be mean.”

“Try me.”

“Can Brock and I come visit you for a few days before we go home?”

Misty paused for a second. She’d probably expected him to ask—well, actually, he didn’t quite know. But probably what she really thought of the match or maybe something about Water Pokémon. But he didn’t usually ask her those kinds of things. She would tell him before he ever even thought to ask.

“Of course you can,” Misty replied, surprise evident in her voice. “Where is Brock anyway?”

“Where’s Brock?” Ash asked wryly. He tilted the screen—these new screens could tilt!—in the direction of the front desk at the Pokémon Center, and there was Brock, mooning over Nurse Joy. Dawn was standing off to the side, looking embarrassed and Pikachu was shuffling from his position on the desk closer to her.

“Hmm, maybe I should rethink my answer…” Misty said dryly.

“Nope! Can’t! No take-backs! You already said yes!”

Misty smiled again, this time mostly in her shimmering green eyes. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

* * *

“You have to catch me one!”

“No! What if I don’t see one?”

“Oh, please. Ash, tell me one Pokémon you haven’t seen in person. In fact, Dexter, tell me one Pokémon Ash hasn’t seen in person.”

“There are hundreds of Pokémon—”

“In regards to the regions he’s already been to!”

“No data.”

“See! You’ve seen literally—”

“It just said ‘no data’! It probably has no clue what you’re talking about!”

“It does! Dexter has become very advan—”

“Okay! I will try to catch a Skrelp for you!”

“Thank you. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Try. Emphasis on try.”

The two were lounged on Misty’s couches, days before Ash was to leave for Unova. They seemed to have grown a habit of having Misty on the couch facing the TV with Pikachu and Ash on the one perpendicular to it. Most of their time spent at the Gym—when not hanging out with the Water Pokémon which, admittedly, was a lot of the time—was spent on these two couches, just like this. Ash was slouched so that the middle of his back was where his butt should have been, and Misty had Pikachu in her lap, idly stroking the Pokémon. Ash and Pikachu had spent last week or so in Cerulean after a similar duration in Pallet. This was not the first conversation about Skrelp and Dragalge to come up.

“I just need to know about any Pokémon that starts as a Water Type and then loses it!”

“I’m sure if it had a choice, it wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I know that.”

Then the couch fell quiet. That was always the nice thing about their friendship, Misty thought. Whether with Ash or Brock, the conversation could always die away and they’d simply be happy in each others’ company. She supposed that had to be the case when you spent every single hour together for three or so years. Such was not the case with everyone else in her life. Since returning to the Gym, she’d realized how many thought that when a conversation lulled it truly died. How uncomfortable people were with a bit of silence. Truth be told, she felt it too now, acutely, whenever it happened. But not with Ash. With Ash it was easy.

So the minutes passed like that until she had something else to say. And then a few more while she worked up the courage to say it.

“You’re not going to call less, are you?”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Ash answered with a shrug as he sat himself up a little more. “Hadn’t really thought about it. Why?”

“Well, you’re going to be a in a very different time zone now,” Misty started. “And you’ll have more people to juggle, what with me, Brock, May, Max, and Dawn. And your mom, of course.”

“…Maybe I should have thought about it.”

“It’ll just take a bit more effort and foresight now, that’s all,” Misty said, trying to disguise how concerned she actually felt.

“My strengths, of course.”

“Well, effort is. Foresight, not so much.”

“You know what? It’ll be fine,” Ash said. “The habit’s been formed, right? That’s a thing? So I’ll still want to call you and so I will.”

“Wow, sweet and mature. I’m shocked.”

“Don’t say you’re shocked, or Pikachu might want to prove you right.”

“Hardy har.”

“Pika,” Pikachu chirped, though she wasn’t sure whose side he was on.

There was another slight pause and then Misty said, “You’ll call in a week?”

“I’ll call in a week.”

* * *

Misty’s theory had not held up. Somehow, Ash had backslid and landed in eighth place in the Vertress Conference. Nevertheless, Ash seemed to be in rather high spirits.

“Apparently Kalos has a lot of Pokémon from Kanto too, so it’ll be really cool to see them in a different environment—maybe they’ll look different like in the Orange Islands? Hey, you know I could catch a Caterpie again! I know, I know, you wouldn’t be excited about that, but you came around on Butterfree in the end, didn’t you?”

“Do you wanna go out sometime, Ash?”

That question stopped Ash’s rant dead in his tracks. Suddenly, he wasn’t thinking about Kalos at all anymore, but rather a hardly-lucid whaa…huh?

“Wha—do you mean like…like when we went out yesterday for pizza? Do you want pizza again today, because I was kind of thinking cheeseburgers.”

Misty blinked. “Yeah, kind of like that. Only it doesn’t matter so much where we go but why. I’m talking like a date, Ash. I’d like to go on a date.”

That was very clear. Ash suddenly became very aware of the muscles in his throat. It was maybe the first time he’d ever considered that his throat even had muscles. But suddenly they were all tense and seemed much larger and warmer than they had a moment before when he hadn’t been thinking about them.

“Oh.”

“Feel free to think about it,” Misty said flippantly. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, so it’s only fair that you have some time to consider it before you say something. So, do you want to keep talking about Kalos or do you want to be quiet for a minute?”

“I want to be quiet for a minute.”

He’d already gone quiet, to be sure. His raspy voice was suddenly devoid of all tone and was little more than a whisper. Perhaps that was connected to the strange throat sensations—he didn’t really know much about these things.

Pikachu had been on Misty’s lap—as was his habit during these Cerulean visits—but he trotted over to Ash on the other couch and leapt onto his shoulder, as if hoping the familiar weight would even Ash out a bit. Even out his thoughts or something. It was as sweet an effort as Misty had ever seen.

Many minutes passed. These ones less comfortable than most. Ash was fidgeting, and Pikachu was uncomfortable because he had to work to keep his balance in the midst of Ash’s fidgeting, which dug his claws into Ash’s shoulder which must have been uncomfortable for him as well. And Misty, despite her calm façade, was very anxious as well. She had laid it all out, after all. Well, more or less. Needless to say, none of them were doing well.

“Let me just say a couple things that might simplify this,” Misty said finally. “And maybe I should have led with these. It would just be one date. Not a relationship. Not enough would be different to have to make things uncomfortable between us—certainly not in the long term. It’s not a commitment of any kind. It’s an experiment.”

There was a pause before Ash continued. And what he continued with was: “Like a science experiment?”

Somehow, Misty managed to laugh a little. “Yeah, like one of those. But don’t worry, there’s no data to record. It’s just how you feel about it. Well, how we feel about it. And if either of us is uncomfortable, then it’s a failed experiment and that’s fine. But I’d really like to see what would happen.”

Ash looked at her uncertainly. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It can be,” Misty said with a light shrug. “Maybe I sound naïve, but I’d like to think that it could be.”

“How much time will you give me to decide?”

“As much as you need.”

“Forever?”

“…I guess you’ve backed me into a corner on that one. Sure, Ash. Sure.”

“You wouldn’t kill me?”

“Truthfully, I’m not bound to kill you anyway, Ash.”

“We can try it.”

Misty balked a little, but hoped it wouldn’t show. “Wait, really?”

Ash chuckled. “Did you expect me to say no?”

“I was just trying to keep my expectations low,” Misty said honestly.

“Well, the answer is yes. Yes to a trial run.”

Misty smiled, the disbelief still rippling over her face—a lip twitch here, an eyebrow raised there, but a smile nevertheless. “I’ll take it.”

“Can I ask…why you asked?” Ash said hesitantly.

“No,” Misty replied. “We’ll save that for the date.”

* * *

“So…did you have a good time?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t too awkward?”

“No.”

“…Would you want to do it again?”

“Sure.”

“…Okay.”

“Okay.”

* * *

The truth was that nothing much in the next year or so changed between Ash and Misty. They couldn’t hold hands or give chaste pecks through a computer screen. If you were looking closely, the only real change was a great deal more blushing and uncertain words shared between the two. But it was good. Surprisingly good.

Then the year ended and Ash was back in Kanto. Then things changed. Well, they had to, didn’t they?

It started when he finally came to Cerulean. In the past, he’d always knocked on the door, she—usually Misty, though sometimes it was a sister or employee—would answer the door, say something and invite him and Pikachu in. They’d head into the living room—via the kitchen, of course—and then proceed to hang out. For the day, at first, then a few days, then a week.

But now…none of that seemed right.

Without thinking much about it, Ash knocked on the door, same as usual, and when Misty answered, they both realized with wide eyes that everything was different. Perhaps surprisingly, Ash acted first.

He brought her in for a hug and Misty breathed a sigh of relief. Not so much because Ash had made a move, but because it was so nice to see him. In the flesh. To feel him, warm and three dimensional.

“It’s good to have you back,” she said.

“You too,” Ash replied.

And Misty didn’t know if Ash had the same thought, but she suspected in that moment the same thing occurred to them. As things were going, over the next however many years they decided to stick this out there would be a few instances of having each other back. But there would be very few times at all that they would indeed have each other. And that didn’t bode well.

This wasn’t about ritually meeting up with a friend anymore. This was about their futures. And while Misty’s was pretty set at the moment as Gym Leader, Ash’s was totally up in the air.

When they pulled back, Ash looked at her and, for a moment, Misty thought he might kiss her. But instead, he asked: “Something on your mind?”

“No. Er, well, yes. But not right now. I’m sure you’re famished, and the last thing I want to do is try to talk to Ash Ketchum on an empty stomach.”

Ash had the courtesy to laugh. “Can’t argue with that. Yes. Let’s eat.”

* * *

It was after they’d eaten and recounted events of the last year—even things they had maybe already spoken about—that the time came to settle the thing that had been on Misty’s mind. Ash saw it on her face immediately.

“Is now the time?”

It was funny how even a question like that sent pleased tingles down Misty’s spine. It was a glimpse at Ash’s growing maturity and empathy. The things that were making him into a better partner than she ever would have hoped for years before. So, barely able to hide the smile his question brought to her face, she said, “Yeah, I think so.”

Ash threw an arm behind the couch, framing himself a little closer to her. Yes, they were now on the same couch with nothing but Pikachu in between them. They weren’t touching save for at their knees, but the gesture still made things feel a little more intimate. “So? What’s up?”

“Well…I just thought that sooner or later we’re going to have to talk about your plans for next year.”

It was strange. Even when they’d traveled together, she’d never been a part of the decision-making progress for where Ash was going. She’d been keen to go along for the ride at that point. And for the next many years she’d not had a place to contribute to the conversation. But now she really did—she hoped that Ash thought the same.

For all Misty’s apprehension, Ash seemed to have none. He grinned and rubbed his hands together, bouncing a little bit on the couch cushion. “I’ve actually already thought about it and kind of come to a decision.”

Misty’s heart sank a bit. It took every bit of restraint in her—and a bit of fear helping her along—only to say: “Oh, is that so?”

“Yes, and it’s going to sound crazy, but hear me out: I’m going to school.”

Misty waiting a moment for the ‘gotcha.’ Or the rest of the ‘out’ that she was supposed to ‘hear him.’ But he was looking at her expectantly, as though it was her turn. But she could only restate. “You’re going back to school?”

“No! Not back to school. Bleh. Not math or, I don’t know, spelling and all that. No, Pokémon school!”

“Like Pokémon Tech?” Misty asked, still a little lost.

“Not that either,” Ash said, almost bubbling over with excitement. Pikachu, too, looked rather excited by the prospect, which was surprising. “This is a practical school. Hands-on. Lots of Pokémon Battles, lots of field trips, really exciting stuff! And it’s only for people with proper credentials, like, oh, I don’t know, scoring high in internationally-recognized Leagues. Like, say, runner-up in the Kalos League.”

“Sounds elite,” Misty said, unsure of what else to offer.

Ash puffed up a little at that. “It is. But you know what else?”

“What?”

“It’s a new extension to Celadon University.”

“Ce…” The syllable came out as little more than a breath. “Celadon University? As in, in Celadon City?”

Ash grinned, and Misty realized she’d been fooled. Fooled, but in the most delightful, thoughtful, wonderful way possible.

“Yep. I know it’s still a bit of a trek to get to and from Cerulean—”

“It’s perfect, Ash!”

Misty all but fell forward onto him, knocking Ash back as her arms wrapped around his middle and leaving Pikachu to jump for his life onto floor to keep from being squished.

“Pikachu!” Ash exclaimed reflexively.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Pikachu!”

Luckily, Pikachu was quick to forgive. He climbed back onto the couch but looked at the couple warily and found a spot on the back of the couch to perch on.

It would still be something of a long distance relationship. Neither of them had cars and it would take some time to figure out how and when to visit each other. But it was realistic for them to see each other every weekend this way. Or at least every other weekend. After years of only seeing each other in person once a year…this was a dream come true. The more Misty thought about it, the harder it was to keep from squealing.

“So you’re on board with all of this?” Ash asked, an arm around Misty’s back while her face was pressed into his stomach. She could feel the rumble of his voice.

“Yes. So on board. So very on board. Thank you, Ash. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mist. Anything for you.”

* * *

They were lying in bed one day. Ash had moved to Cerulean permanently some time earlier and was—to the surprise of everyone—taking the steps to become a teacher. He was at the Gym for the night, as had been becoming more and more frequent in recent months. Misty was on her back, reading by lamplight while Ash was on his side, rubbing her shoulder and her arm.

“Do you wanna get married someday?”

“Of course,” Misty murmured, flipping a page as she continued reading.

“Okay,” Ash said, kissing her shoulder. “I’ll try and find a ring tomorrow.”

Suddenly, Misty dropped her magazine. She was listening. “What?”

“To make it official?” Ash said, sounding a little confused.

“To make what, exactly, official?”

“Our engagement!”

“Whoa,” Misty said, suddenly sitting up very, very straight. “Woah, woah, woah. I said yes to the abstract idea of getting married someday in the future. You said, someday! Not, like, in the next year or two, telling our families next week, shopping for a dress next month kind of yes. And not even to you! Necessarily!”

“Well, you should have said that!”

“Nooooo, if one of us needed to be more clarifying, I’m pretty sure it was you.”

“So you don’t want to get married?”

“Ash, I—”

“If I proposed right now, would you say yes?”

Misty paused. She’d considered the idea, of course. Ash had been her endgame for a longtime now. But it had never been a detailed fantasy. Never anything real. But, at the same time, it was the only future she could see right now.

The answer was meek. It was quiet. But it was: “Yes.”

“Okay,” Ash replied, looking slightly victorious. “Then consider us engaged.”

“Ash,” Misty whined. “I’d always imagined my proposal as being something…a little more romantic.”

“Well,” Ash said, nuzzling into her neck. “I can’t imagine anything more romantic. You and me. Here.” A few kisses to her collarbone. “Pikachu in the other room…”

Ash pulled back and looked at her with a smoldering expression he seemed to have mastered in the last couple of years. And in a moment, he’d sold her on his point. This was something that, at a certain point in her life, she’d given up on having with him. But now she had it.

“You’re right,” she whispered—something she’d only moderately gotten better at telling him in the past years of their relationship.

“Yes, I am,” he agreed. “But I’ll try and do something more romantic after I get the ring.”

She hoped he would. But, at the same time, she knew that he wouldn’t be able to top this.

* * *

The wedding was on the beach. It was exactly the atmosphere Misty wanted. Not to mention the fact that Ash would have been antsy wearing a tux in a church, with everyone near and dear to him staring at him. The beach’s vastness—and all the Pokémon all around—was comforting. To both of them.

Professor Oak was officiating. Gary had offered, but Ash had quickly shut that down, even though the two were friends now. Friends to the point that he was standing at the altar with Ash, behind Brock, Cilan, and Clemont, but before Tracey, Kiawe, and Sophocles. Meanwhile, on the other side, Misty had her three sisters, and May, Lana, Dawn, and Iris. Perhaps the girls were more Ash’s friends than hers, but Misty had become close to all of Ash’s traveling companions over the years.

The ceremony was nearing its end—kept on the short side anyway, due to Ash’s aforementioned antsy-ness—and Professor Oak only had two more questions to ask.

“Misty, do you take Ash to be your lawfully wedded husband for as long as you and he so choose?”

“I do.”

“Ash, do you take Misty to be your lawfully wedded wife for as long as you and she so choose?”

“Yes! No, wait—I mean…oh gosh—I mean, I do!”

Misty only resisted putting a hand to her forehead because both her hands were already in Ash’s and she didn’t want to pull away. It was a strong urge she only managed to satisfy with a strong eye roll that she made sure he saw. But still, she laughed.

Professor Oak, too, chuckled. “Then I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

It was a sweet kiss. Nothing prolonged or gratuitous, just a romantic, perfect kiss. Then they pulled away and both whooped to the crowd of their friends and family.

At the reception later, Brock came up to the two, sure to bring them both small plates of the food they were missing out on from having to talk to all the guests, and said, “Married! I can’t believe you two are actually married!”

Ash and Misty took the plates gratefully. Pikachu had been snagging them a few things here and there, but now was off at the Pokémon table that all the walking Pokémon were hanging out at while their Trainers were busy.

“I still can’t believe Ashy-boy is a teacher,” Gary said, coming up from behind. “Married I could have imagined for him—though maybe more like when he was forty, not twenty-three. But a teacher? You guys didn’t see this kid in class growing up, but I did, and he was lucky to come out even able to spell the word teacher.”

“Have to give me a hard time even on my wedding day?” Ash asked good-naturedly as he shoved his face with the amazing appetizers Brock had been able to score for them. Ones Cilan and his brothers had catered themselves.

“Of course,” Gary replied, then gestured to Misty. “Red here probably won’t, since she’s all aglow with being a wift, and since she gives you the hardest time of all of us, I’ve gotta make up for it old school-Gary style.”

“That does only make sense,” Misty agreed.

It seemed most of their core group had managed to migrate over to where the newlyweds were. May, with Drew in toe, said, “I, for one, am surprised you managed to get him to settle down. I thought that Ash would be traveling forever.”

“I think you’re confusing Ash with yourself, babe,” Drew said.

“Hey, I’m settled!” she exclaimed. “We just…also travel a lot.”

“I still do too,” Ash said. “I don’t just teach, like, one class in one university. I give lectures, teach short courses—Misty and I have started classes at the Gym. And I can go on sabbaticals to take time to travel.”

“I’ve been trying to tell him that they’re not really sabbaticals if he’s not regularly employed,” Misty said. “But it’s hardly the hill I want to die on.”

“Not worth risking your marriage on?” May let out a small squeal. “Aw, it’s so cute I can say that now!”

“Okay, okay, I need to talk to the couple!” Bonnie, now at eleven years old was all knees and elbows shoving through the group, a camera in hand.

“Bonnie!” Clemont exclaimed breathlessly as he stumbled up to the group. “Sorry, I tried to stop her.”

“It’s okay,” Misty said now that a camera was being shoved in her face. “What’s the camera for, Bonnie?”

“Posterity!” Bonnie explained. “I know when I get married I want the whole thing recorded.”

“When you get married?” Clemont asked. He was ignored.

“Okay, what are we supposed to say?” Misty asked.

“Don’t worry, I have questions,” Bonnie said as she adjusted her framing to get both Ash and Misty in the shot. “Number one, how are you feeling?”

“Happy,” Misty said at the same time Ash said, “Hungry.”

“Er…what she said,” Ash said, backtracking.

Misty rolled her eyes, but smiled, elbowing him in the ribs, just out of frame of the camera. Though the camera didn’t miss Ash’s reaction.

“Okay, next question,” Ash wheezed.

“Number two, why wasn’t Clemont the best man?”

“Bonnie!”

“Just kidding, just kidding, gosh, big brother. Number two, when did you know each other was the one?”

Ash started. “Hmm. Probably after our…second date? I don’t know, exactly when. Just whenever it started to make sense that I could think of Misty romantically…I knew I always would.”

Bonnie nodded, satisfied. “Misty?”

“I knew that I wanted to marry him probably when he moved back to Kanto.”

“But when did you know he was the one?”

“Isn’t that the same question?” Ash asked.

“No,” Bonnie drawled, before pointing accusatorily at Misty. “She knows what I’m talking about.”

Misty sighed, her face turning a little pink. “I guess I always thought that. Since…like a month or two after we met.”

Ash turned away from the camera and stared at her. “Ever since then?”

Misty looked down for a second before meeting his eyes. “Yes.”

“You’ve liked me,” Ash clarified, the question sounding more like a statement.

“Yes.”

“For all that time.”

“Yes.”

“You waited.”

“Yes.”

“For me.”

“Yes.”

Ash smiled. “Sounds like I’ve got some catching up to do.”

Misty’s smile mirrored his. “Yes.”

“I love you,” said he.

“Yes,” said she.

They kissed and suddenly seemed to be in their own little world, oblivious to all their closest friends standing around them.

“I still have more questions!” Bonnie said, but her brother put his hands on her shoulders and led her away.

“Ask them later, Bonnie,” Clemont said. “You’ll have all the time in the world.”

#pokemon #pokeshipping #pokeani #anipoke #aaml #ash ketchum #fanfiction #oneshot #alphabet challenge #misty #ash and misty #brock

59 notes · View notes

jamesmarlowe · 4 years

Text

『ANTON THIEMKE ❙ CIS-MALE』 ⟿ looks like JAMES MARLOWE is here for HIS SENIOR year as a FINE ARTS student. He is 21 years old & known to be CLEVER, INVENTIVE, UNRELIABLE & EGOTISTICAL. They’re living in NOLAND, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ SLOTH. 25. EST. SHE/HER.

hi hello welcome 2 my twisted mind ☺️ marlowe is a character i’m still fine-tuning bc he’s brand-new, so this is unfortunately.... a bit of a mess.... and mostly made up on the spot.... c’est la vie!!

(a late addition but u can also peep his weheartit collection here 4 some vibes)

his government name is james marlowe but he only goes by marlowe & only introduces himself as marlowe like he’s madonna or sting.... most ppl who know him (apart from like close friends) probably don’t even know what his first name is. maybe he doesn’t have one!

hails from Appalachia, specifically a trailer park in a poor-as-dirt stretch of Virginia where he was born n raised, baby. he’s Appalachian white trash and not afraid to admit it. marlowe’s very casual about his upbringing and his dumpster fire of a family (no less than three relatives are currently incarcerated, one of which is his older brother who’s probably serving a minor sentence for whatever dumb shit Tim Riggins got got for in FNL or like, selling illegal fireworks out of his trunk :/ ). the only thing he’s a little self-conscious about is his twang which he’s mostly suppressed by now, but other than that, he’s got no shame in where he comes from bc lbr no authentic artist ever came from money anyway!

born sandwiched in the middle of five siblings, marlowe’s always been wild and creative and impulsive, a loud-mouthed kid with too much to say for his own good, prone 2 getting in trouble but learning absolutely nothing from it. it was his mission in life to be Different from all the other kids who grew up where he grew up, with the way he talked, dressed, acted, because he knew that he was destined for bigger n better things so it was just a matter of getting other ppl to believe it, & then seeing how far a little talent and a lot of charisma would take him >:)

from age 8 onwards, he told people he was an “artist” and that became his primary identity. when he was 16 he completed an independent sculpture project (called “Skyscraper”) where he constructed a 20-foot tower made out of junk collected from around the trailer park and then glued Barbies n other dolls all clawing over each other to get to the top, smack dab in the middle of Main Street and refused to take it down even when the local fire department showed up 2 threaten him with fines. it did eventually get taken down bc it was ‘structurally unsound’ and someone nearly got concussed by a falling mannequin head, but at least it got some attention from local newspapers and w/ that as the crown jewel in his portfolio, marlowe got into a few different art/liberal arts schools the following year. radcliffe was the only one who offered a partial scholarship and the east coast sounded nice n far from home, so anyways lets go ✈️ college

FAST FORWARD its senior year babey and marlowe’s been making the most of his time here at radcliffe. he’s a fine arts major but specializes in mixed media sculptures (and probably is really shit at most of his other classes, like art theory where u actually have to read textbooks? still life drawing? boring. yawn. won’t do it.) his entire profile as an artist i’m cribbing from Rachel Harrison bc I saw her exhibition at the whitney a little while ago and her sculptures made me go ?????¿¿¿¿¿ which i think is exactly the kind of bizarre nonsense that marlowe is going for with his “art”. feast your eyes on these masterpieces. the joke of it all is that marlowe is the first to admit that his art isn’t like.... good. but his philosophy is that if people respond to it & praise it like it’s art, then by definition, it’s art. and if it gets him places (like it got him onto Cultured Magazine’s “30 Young Artists To Watch This Decade″ list), then yeehaw!

When he’s not busy creating new monstrosities, marlowe takes one fat nap per day (usually at a time when he has class) and is otherwise a very social creature who needs constant attention. he’s got a lot of friends and is always looking to make more, not in a #fake way but just as a person who genuinely likes being around people. he very quickly gets bored if left on his own, so he’s prone to following people around campus like a stray cat regardless of whether or not they tell him to shoo. he dorms at Noland but is almost always found in other houses, often crashing in other people’s rooms (needs to be close to his friends or He’ll Die), and he definitely frequents parties, bc marlowe never passes up an opportunity to drink other people’s booze and get a lil messy and Chaotic. he’s [jim halpert voice] not a slut, but who knows? he’s kinda a slut! he’s also definitely pulled another stunt similar to Skyscraper by taking over the quad for a guerrilla art installation with his sculptures (and without the school’s permission oops) which may be the basis for some connections if ppl know him from that particular exploit!!

in summary..... marlowe can be a bit up his own ass at times, but being around him is generally a Good Time bc he’s easy-going and friendly and always down for anything, always. litcherally zero impulse control so nothing gets in the way of a dumb idea that might potentially make for a good story. perhaps he’s not the most reliable person, so don’t expect a prompt text back if ur in a life or death situation, and he doesn’t care very much about anything, so ur setting urself up for disappointment if you do expect him to care about something (the fact that he’s never been in a long-term relationship... very telling). all he wants to do is just have! fun all the time! he’s trying to scam his way into the American Dream with his dumb art, so that he can live a good life and maybe get rich and famous and eventually party at Art Basel in Miami with Frank Ocean! is that really so much to ask!

appearance: marlowe’s very vain and a lot of thought goes into his appearance even when (especially when) it doesn’t look like he’s done anything but roll straight out of bed. all of his outfits are as outrageous as his sculptures are ugly. think mismatched prints and loud colors, silk shirts gaping open like he got tired after the first three buttons, a pawn’s shop worth of jewelry, weird dangly earrings w/ feathers or tiny charms, tinted yellow or pink sunglasses, sometimes a bandana around his neck, just for extra flavor. his hair always has to look perfectly tousled; u can catch him checking out his reflection in pretty much every mirrored surface. at least half the surface area of his body is covered in tattoos & he’ll suggest getting more during every drunken night out, which... is why he has so many by now!

connections: to be quite honest its 2 am and i feel all of my higher brain functions shutting down so i’m gonna make these very simple n straightforward, but we can always workshop!!!! pls feel free to message me even if none of these strike ur fancy :0)

peers in the arts - friends, acquaintances, rivals, probably some former group project members holding a grudge....

fellow party animals who don’t mind sharing when marlowe inevitably mooches off their alcohol and drugs :)

unlikely friends!!!!! it’d be fun to have a friendship dynamic with someone who’s very different from him!!

a roommate in Noland... possibly one he’s not on good terms w/... even tho marlowe hardly EVER sleeps in his own dorm room, he uses it as a storage locker for all his “found” art materials. i can imagine that living in that mess would try the limits of anyone’s sanity :)

enemies - they can hate his whole Genius Artist shtick and they’d be valid :/

fellow insomniacs! marlowe is very much a night owl (regular naps during the day may be 2 blame but oh well) so he needs a fellow nocturnal to hit up the late-night McDonald’s drive thru with him and then lay on the grass lookin at the stars and contemplating life’s great mysteries while eating chicken mcnuggets

exes - idk if u can even call them tht when his past “relationships” have all had a lifespan of six weeks or less, but hey there’s drama in that too!!

fwb - i don’t think marlowe’s the type 2 be juggling too many fwb/hook-ups at one time simply because That’s A Lot of Work. that being said... he never likes to sleep alone ;)

#radintro #im working on some gif icons but full disclosure.... they gon be sparse and shitty!#so instead we have this pic where it looks like he passed out on a lawn and woke up w/ shit scribbled all over his face #and u know what? on brand #anyways plot w/ me!!!!!!#about

17 notes · View notes

reeree1500 · 5 years

Text

His Aphrodisiac...Part 2 Vampire Ivar! x Reader

Disclaimer: Smut 😏(an attempt), spelling and grammar mistakes😬 and my cliched imagination🤣Thank you for all the love and support💕☺️

Taglist: @yanii-the-hippie @peaceisadirtyword @laketaj24 @oceans-daughter-3 @camatsuru @youbloodymadgenius @calum-hoodwinked-me @wuxiesalt @supernaturalvikingwhore @readsalot73 @affection-rabbit @blonddnamedhandz @paintballkid711 @ivarthethiccness @limbo-limbo-limbo @funmadnessandbadassvikings

Weeks had gone by after our steamy session in Ivar’s office. I still couldn’t process the fact that he was a vampire. That ancient tale of a monster who sought nothing but blood was true. However, he had proved otherwise. Ivar didn't seem like the type of person to go around sucking people’s blood just because he felt like it. No, he was the type that when I had a problem he would make it disappear. Like Johnathan, my ex-fiancee who wouldn't stop harassing me. As soon as Ivar had found out about him, he never showed up again. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air. Of course I was relieved at the time, but now I cant help but think about if Ivar had anything to do with it...

----------------------

it was the night of the annual Lothbrok Corp dinner. Only a select few people from the office were to attend as many of our sister branches would also send their representatives. Not to mind the fact that the founders of Lothbrok corp would all be there as well, with their friends and family. This year the dinner had been set to occur at Ivar’s mansion upstate. This included a secluded area where the next house wouldnt be in sight for miles. Ivar was a man of privacy and now I could understand why. The dinner was to start in an hour and I had yet to finish my makeup. I wasn't really one to amazing at it, but I knew what would compliment my (y/s/t) complexion. As I finish applying my mascara, I take one last look in the mirror before heading out to the kitchen to find my phone and call an Uber. Taking my coat in one hand and juggling my keys, phone and purse in the other. I manage to somehow lock the door, but not before I’m met with a pair of electric blue eyes. “I..Ivar. W...What are you doing here?” I manage to say through my shock.

“You haven't returned any of my calls or messages since that night (y/n). I wouldn't admit this to anyone else, but I was genuinely worried about you.” He trails off as he says the last part whilst avoiding my gaze. “Ive just had a lot on my mind, Ivar. Im sorry.” I say looking anywhere except his eyes, knowing full well the effect they had on me. In a flash Ivar stepped away from the limousine, took my coat and placed it on his arm and grabbed my hand dragging me towards it. “Ivar what are you doing my Uber’s here.” “I gave him 100 bucks and sent it away. You're coming with me.” He whispers the last part close to my ear before shoving me inside the limo. His tone of voice wasn't all the way warm, it had hints of his icy personality in them and made it hard to breathe for me.

-------------

The car ride was awkward and filled with lots of tension. Ivar tried multiple times to start a conversation with me, but I paid him no mind. I sat as far away as possible from him, I could swear that there were times where I thought that I would fall out the door. His hands would “accidentally” (as he said) wander all over my legs, tracing patterns and ever so often trailing even higher. It took everything in me to ignore his advances, and he knew very well the effects his touch had on me. His mere touch created a pool of wetness down there and the bastard knew it. Before his hand could go any further, the view of a great mansion surrounded by nothing but trees caught my eye. “Woah, that's huge.” I said as I looked out the window. “And its all yours (y/n), if you’d just have me.” Ivar says as he turns my head and stares into my (e/c) eyes. Getting lost in his electric blue orbs I lose all sense of why I was upset at him. It’s as if it’s only us two and the whole world disappeared when I look at him. Before either one of us could act upon our feelings once again, we’re interrupted by the driver as he pulls up in front of the house. “Oh for fucks sake! Someone is always interrupting us!” Ivar screams out, startling me a little as his eyes began to glow. His sudden outburst made me want to run away, but also made me feel as if I should have calmed him down. Ivar turns to me and he just stares, no sudden movements or words just a blank stare. In seconds Ivar is out of the car and opening the door for me. If I hadnt known that he was a vampire I could've sworn that it had all been a fix of my imagination and that he truly wasnt there.

-------------------

As Ivar led from the limo inside the mansion, I couldnt help but admire the artwork and intricate design of his house. It was something truly unexpected from him. Once inside the ballroom Ivar had disappeared, I guess to greet everyone and say hello to his family. Whom I know he hasn't seen for the longest time. I however, am very overwhelmed and I think it may have to do with the fact that everybody’s eyes are on me. I don't do very well in public scenarios like this one and all the attention is making me a little sick. There was security all over the place and although intimidating I knew that I had to find a washroom as quickly as possible, so I could lock myself in there all night. The bodyguard didn't even speak, he just pointed towards the stairs and went back to acting as if I wasnt there. Shrugging it off I make my way up the stairs only to find a corridor with an exceptional amount of doors. Internally cursing myself I make my way down and knock on every door, but they're all locked. I almost gave up until I saw the double doors on the right. Obviously this couldn't be bathroom, but at this point I didn't care, I just had to find a place to stay till it was time to go.

As I opened the double doors Im greeted by an awfully dark lit room, with intricate black designs. The cravings on the bed posts and the paintings around are those of ancient nordic runes, something that led me to believe that this might have been Ivar’s room. I knew of his great admiration foe his background, he loved anything that had to do with nordic beliefs and ancient gods. Making may way inside Im transfixed by all the artwork and details around me that I fail to acknowledge the presence that lies in the corner of the room. “So, I seem you've made yourself acquainted with my room already, (y/n)” Ivar says as he walks out of the shadows with his crutches? “Oh my God, Ivar are you okay? I literally left you for less than an hour and you've already gone an injured yourself! Wait, I dont mean to sound like a bitch/ignorant or anything, but why do you have crutches? Aren't like vampires supposed to be like physically invincible?” I said all in one breath, as Ivar just cocked his head to the side and stared at me. “You honestly believe everything that the media tells you, dont you?” Point taken, all I knew about vampires were form shows, movies and books that were then turned into movies or shows. “Anyway, before I became a vampire, I was actually a viking. Hence all the nordic runes everywhere and the massive tattoo on my chest and back. My family was very rich and my father Ragnar was king. However, unlike my siblings I was born without function in my legs. Which is why I use those metal braces in the corner over there while I'm in public, and these only around people I trust.” He says moving closer to me. “Now, tell me as to what drew you to come in to my room without me, (Y/n).” Ivar says as he draws my name longer than he has to, in a very sensual tone that makes my knees tremble.

“(y/n), give in. Dont fight it, we were meant to be. You're the reason I can finally feel alive. If it weren't for you, I probably would've kept roaming this world with no sense of purpose. I know you feel this connection. So once again , will you let me take care of you?” And in that moment all senses had been thrown out the window.

Ivar closed the gap with his hot mouth against yours. You gasped as you felt the heat spiral through you, as you ran your fingers through his soft locks. Throwing the crutches to the side Ivar manages to pick you up the hips and deepens the kiss. The sensual dance between your tongue and his is soon over as you cave in to his dominance and let his explore your mouth, slowly with deliberate movements. “Ahhhh...” A moan escapes your lips as his lips move down to your neck. “Since I saw you in that dress earlier tonight, it took everything in me to not act on impulse.” Making his way to the bed, Ivar lays you gently on the back satin sheets and holds himself up as his roam over your body in admiration. Ivar then looks at you for permission as his fingers begin unlacing and unzipping your dress. As Ivar kisses along to every spot that is unveiled to him, goosebumps begin to raise along your skin. You had longed for this moment for awhile, but had denied yourself of the pleasure due to your fear. Oh how stupid could I have been you thought to yourself as you relish in the pleasure that this man brought you every time he kissed and caressed you. “You're so beautiful...” Ivar says as he touches you with reverent fingers, as he begins caressing that part of your body that is not very often explored.

His fingers begin tracing the inside of my hips as his head dips down to my flower. Ivar takes my clit into his mouth and gently bites it, bringing a pleasure that I cannot describe. My hips buck up to him on their own accord asking for more. But he holds me down and brings his face up to mine. His intense gaze had distracted me for a second as his ministrations towards my clit were over. But before I could beg him and ask him for more, it was as fi Ivar had already beat me to it. In a flash he had dipped and curled 2 of his massive fingers into my hole. Pumping them in at an alarmingly fast rate. “I..Ivar, that feels so good!” I manage to say through my moans that are increasingly louder as I throw my head back from all this pleasure. Ivar’s pace becomes steady and his lips are now focused on my right breast, kissing and caressing it as if it were his favourite thing in the world. My hands uncurl form the sheets and move towards his head caressing it and then bringing it up so that I could kiss him. This time I wanted to show him that I too cared for him. And all that fear had been washed away, this man had been everything to me the minute I started working for him and Would be damned if I let him get away. Vampire or not!

Bringing him in for a kiss Ivar tries to take control and dominate again, but this time I would be in control. I manage to shock Ivar with the lack of submission that he’s used to seeing from me. I use this to my advantage and flip us over. Trying to not hurt him in the process. I break apart our kiss and stare deeply into his eyes as our heave breaths begin to entangle with each other and become one. I slowly remove his fingers from my hole, much to his dismay. And before he could protest I place my finger to his lips. “You've shown me how much you care for me. Time and time again Ivar. Let me show you that I care too.” At this his eyes hold admiration, surprise, and hints uncertainty. Making my way down his body, I leave trail of kisses form his chest all the way down to his legs. Taking my time kissing every part of them and staring into his eyes with love and tenderness, which he mirrors in his gaze towards me. I then make my way up to his long and already hard cock. Oozing with loads of precum. Licking the excess I take as much as I can into my mouth as I wrap my hangs around the base his very thick and long shaft. Pumping and bobbing my head I can feel and hear Ivar’s pleasure. His hands wrap around my (h/l)(h/c) hair and his hips thrust forward. I can see that he is reaching his high and before I could make him cum, he pulls out of my mouth. “I’d like to cum inside you, if you'd let me (y/n)” He says as his hands pull my face into a heated kiss.

Climbing on top of him I go to position myself on his member. However, Ivar flips us around so that he is the one on top. I could only look at him in shock for a second before my eyes roll back as I feel him thrust into me with one swift movement. My hands wrap around his torso, and claw at his back from the overwhelming sense of pleasure. Our moans become a melody to my ears, but soon I can feel myself reaching that high. “Ivar.....Im gonna” “I know baby, me too.” And just like that with a few more of his powerful thrusts Ivar and I reach our edge. Ivar and I stare into each others eyes with admiration and love. My hands without thought brush the strands from his hair away from his sweaty face. “Dont leave me ever again (y/n), I mean it. Those weeks that went by were probably the hardest of my life.” He breathes out as he caresses my face and body so gently, as if he were thinking that I would just vanish right there. “I would never think of leaving you again, ever. Im your aphrodisiac after all. What would you do without me?” And without a care in the world we lied in each others arms whilst the party roared downstairs, and the host nowhere to be found.

#vikings #vikings history channel #vikings fanfiction #vikings fandom #vikings ivar #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader #reader x ivar #one shot #vikings smut #vikings fluff

65 notes · View notes

saltine-kakyoin · 4 years

Note

ok i CANNOT take it anymore I simply MUST know. spill the beans on the Star Catinum scene please 🙏🏼🙏🏼💝💝💝🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 I have been wondering for SO LONG and I am SO CURIOUS

OKAY SO BEFORE I GET INTO THIS, LEMME PROVIDE SOME EXPOSITION! :3 the Star Catinum Scene was heavily inspired by the one fan art of splat w the BIG dinner plate eyes, the one where’s he’s like owo and then O W O. it reminded me of a cat! and then i thought of this one post i saw ages ago about how much it’d suck if catra’s eyes went all big + dilated in the middle of one of her fights with adora, and then... the dots connected and, to quote my main man kronk, it was all coming together now :3 another big part of this is the adventure i had w coffee in ny, which we’ve talked about here in there in chat! w that said, lemme dive right in!! this might get long, so i’m gonna put it into a readmore just in case!

sO. the star catinum scene is from the sda, which means kak is roomies w camille in paris while jotaro is grappling w friend/family withdrawal in florida! Jotaro travels + visits everyone when he can, bc he is just. Mad lonely in florida. he might grump about all of the crusaders, but he really do be lovin + missing them, you know? On Kak and Camille’s end, this is normally fine! however, the visit that takes place in the star catinum scene is like. towards the later end of the semester for Kak, and inconveniently RIGHT in the middle of one of his final projects for the semester. So! Instead of trying to juggle the project + jotaro, he decides, fuck it! I’m gonna go crazy go stupid and finish it in advance so I can devote all of my attention to jotaro + what he’s been up to when he arrives. :)

nonetheless, jotaro’s visit sneaks up on him, in the way that these kinds of situations do, and he really becomes unhinged that week! He’s gone, painting for nights on end, leading up to Jotaro’s arrival + distressingly, he’s still not done the day/night before jotaro’s set to arrive! Kakyoin is normally a pretty levelheaded and rational guy, but all pretense has jumped out the window. he just Needs to finish this project at this point. SO. that night right before jotaro flies in, Kak stops by the cafe right underneath his and Camille’s apartment that’s run by a turkish and indian couple, and orders two large cups of their most intense brew. With his project and his coffee in hand, he sets off for a parisian rooftop to finish what he started, chugging the first cup as he goes. The first cup is nice, and really gets him going and in the mode! however, he gets so hyperfocused on the painting that he forgets there’s a second cup- at least, until he almost trips on it hours later! And then he’s like. Oh. Oh GOD. there’s a second cup! full of coffee! what do? The small voice of reason that’s been dwindling throughout this week is like: noriaki....whatever you Do, do NOT drink that cup. just let it go. toss it. But another, louder part of him is like: but you are getting kind of sleepy tho.. and are you done with your project yet? No? Then why waste the money by throwing the cup away? Just drink it dude...

So, he drinks it! which is fine and dandy for all of five minutes, until the caffeine REALLY begins kicking and oh, oh god. he should Not have had the second cup of coffee...Filled with regret and too much energy to handle, he feverishly finishes up the painting, slowly losing a grip on reality with each stroke! it almost feels like his body is trying to exorcise itself, which he can’t really blame it for. almost drunkenly, he stumbles back to his and camille’s apartment- thank god for hierophant catching his missteps and making sure the painting isn’t tarnished on the journey! He stumbles back into the apartment, which is pretty dark beyond the light peeking out from camille’s bedroom + the flickering glow of the flames from her new candles. she steps out of her room when she hears he’s finally home, and ooh. Kakyoin may be lost in the caffeine sauce, but he can almost Feel the concern radiating from Camille’s person. she barrages him with a bunch of questions, seemingly all at once. wherewereyou? are you okay? isitfinished? whendidyoulastsleep? Most importantly, are you going to be well enough to get pick Jotaro up from the train station in a few hours?

Kakyoin waves these questions off as his body plummets into the wonderfully plump cushions of their sofa- painting,i’mfine,yes,idon’tknow, and Yes. just let me close my eyes for a moment...i’ll be fine just wake me up when it’s time to get jotaro. And then, he slips into a deep deep slumber.

(i’ve gotta get ready for work soon, so i’m gonna copypasta the rest from my explanation of it to jules!! which is grand bc i feel that explanation captures the fever dream quality of it much better than i am here!)

Camille watcches him melt into the couch + basically enter a coma with mounting anxiety. Normally Jotaro calls when he's arrived at the train station from the airport, and despite the early hour she doesn't really expect this time to be any different. However, it's normally Always Kakyoin that goes to get him. and then they go out for lunch, or dinner, or breakfast. or just a random snack run at the oddest hours of the day. Normally Camille hardly interacts with Jotaro, and she’s used to their interactions always falling flat.. she doesn't know why. Kakyoin assures her that that's just how Jotaro is: quiet, expressive in his own ways. but it gnaws at camille

So anyhow, she waits for Jotaro to call with Dread, because the situation can go one of two ways: kakyoin emerges from his like 2 hour nap after not sleeping for at least a day or two, and the entire visit is off because Kakyoin himself is off skelter. Or, she answers the phone and gets jotaro from the train station Herself + maybe makes him dislike her even more! both options make her stomach drop, and she can't stop her eyes from constantly drifting over to kakyoin, who looks a little too still, a little too cold, a lot of too worn out. She grabs her nicest, most comfortable blanket and throws it over him.. maybe it'll help him sleep better, and hopefully it'll help ease her mind

she does some meditation until jotaro Finally FINALLY calls. Kakyoin is the lightest sleeper known to man for reasons that Camille is unable to understand, so she leaps on their telephone. jotaro's voice is something that strikes fear in her, and having his voice right up in her ear at like 3 am is the least ideal thing ever. it throws all of her meditation out the window, and the harebrained anxiety is Back.

hurriedly, she tells jotaro that they'll be over to pick him up soon! and she can't help but notice the deflated, "Oh." she gets back in response, which baffles her even further. (jules said that was bc he was just waking up from his own personal red-eye flight fever dream nap, and I cannot agree more!) Sure, it's normally always kakyoin that gets jotaro, but what's so wrong with her tagging along? It's not a far walk from their apartment to the train station- what if she just wanted to get out of the house? anyhow, the thought only serves to make camille more nervous.

she decides right after hanging up that No. She is Not going to wake kakyoin up for this- he really needs the sleep, jotaro be damned. it's not like they're going to get up to anything at this hour anyways. She shimmies into her outerwear + yeehaws over to the gare du nord, where she finds jotaro pretty quickly (he’s so tall!). he's like, "Oh- you. Where's Kakyoin?" and she spitballs the entire thing to him because Camille is just a motormouth when her nerves are high

Camille is expecting Jotaro to be miffed, just a little bit, but surprisingly, he's pretty chill about the whole thing. He's grateful to Camille for coming to get him, because otherwise he'd get hopelessly lost in the maze of the city. This is where Camille begins to realize, hm.. perhaps she was too harsh of a judge..mayhaps.. jotaro really is just Like That, as kakyoin has said at least six times before.. what a concept.

They start walking back to the apartment, and Jotaro's mostly concerned about Kakyoin and why the dude's currently comatose on their couch. Camille just keeps rambling and maybe giving out more information than she should, but Camille is just like Polnareff in that regard. she doesn't notice his gaze soften at their similarity, or at the concept that kakyoin would work himself raw just to make time for jotaro's visit... (which Kakyoin shouldn't have to, not for his sake! but the concept pokes at the small beast in jotaro that fancies kakyoin, which.. ugh. that's an entire thing for him to wrestle with.)

so they make it back to the apartment, and camille urges him to be really quiet as they enter- 'did you know, kakyoin's a super light sleeper? i stubbed my toe and cursed once and it woke him up! it's a little odd, i wonder why he's like that.' but jotaro knows. he learned why early sometime in their third year, an admittance uttered in the pitch black of the ocean at an ungodly hour. death 13, a stand he never met, or at least one that he doesn't remember meeting? and yet one that had such a profound impact on kakyoin. in the present, he puts more thought into his footsteps as they cross the threshold between the apartment commons and kakyoin and camille's apartment.

And oh, there he is. buried under a heaping white blanket, with only the left side of his face poking out. jotaro grins ever so slightly, looking at the noodle strayed madly across the side of his head that jotaro can see- how intensely had kakyoin flung himself at the couch? he feels like his eyes rest on kakyoin a moment too long, and maybe camille feels it too. or maybe her mind is just buffering- kakyoin had said she was squirrel-minded sometimes. as if her brain were leaping from one thing to another at such incredible speeds that she herself struggled to keep up with it

camille whispers so lightly that jotaro almost doesn't hear her. but once he does catch on to what she is saying, something takes hold of his heart and tries to drag it under. She's afraid to wake Kakyoin up and ask him to move because he really needs the sleep, but that means jotaro's pick for bed is either her bed (sized for one petite camille and therefore most Definitely not fit for one giant Jotaro) or kakyoin's (which is better suited for jotaro's height but also DANGEROUS)

he feels her eyes upon him like a searing iron on flesh. camille means well, and camille has No Idea what feelings he has- he knows she doesn't think anything of his silence, his deliberation...but god. in this tiny apartment lit only by candlelight, it sure feels like she's peering into his soul and judging him. nonetheless, he ends up choosing kakyoin's bed. his flight was long, and camille's bed is just. not cut out for him! that, and it'sonlyonenightit'sonlyonenightit'sonlyonenight. once kakyoin is up tomorrow.. or whenever he's up......he and jotaro can just switch beds and there'll be no problems. this is what jotaro tells himself, but his mind still runs rampant as he lies in kakyoin's bed. thisiskakyoin'sbed. this is where kakyoin sleeps Every Single Night. this is where kakyoin would be sleeping Right Now if he hadn't run himself ragged in preparation for your visit. he did that for youforyouforyou! but also.. he should not have done that for you- you always have this effect. it's an endless cycle all night long- jotaro is thankful when the exhaustion from the airport finally shuts his brain up

needless to say, jotaro feels like shit when he wakes up. camille feels like shit when she wakes up. nobody had a good night except for kakyoin, and that's only if you count out his feverish journey back to the apartment as his body tried to violently keep itself from tearing apart at the seams due to drinking Way Too Much strong coffee. camille's already up when jotaro clambers out of kakyoin's room, starting the pot for the morning. she takes one look at him and empathizes, asks how he takes his coffee. they chat quietly as it brews- camille tells him that the only person she thinks got a good night's sleep is kakyoin, who is still out of it. bemused, she tells jotaro how she misjudged where the counter was earlier and accidentally ended up slamming her mug on it, which she was SURE was going to wake up kakyoin. but behold... the beast still slumbers!

this is a really pivotal moment for jotaro and camille's friendship, this quiet morning talk. they don't talk about anything in particular, just whatever floats into camille's mind. they're both too tired to really care about any preconceived notions they had about the other, which is how they both learn that they had horribly misjudged the other. huh, would you look at that!

at some point as they're chatting, star platinum peels away from jotaro to go check on kakyoin, which used to happen often, especially back in tibet. this would annoy jotaro any other time- he very distinctly remembers kakyoin harshly telling him i'mfinei'mfinei'mfine, i'm not going to break or anything. but star (and thus, by extension, jotaro..) has always been the type to Need to check. star has always been a bit more anxious about kakyoin after dio, which jotaro really thinks is pretty fair. seeing your best friend getting rolled into a helicopter with a giant gaping hole in his abdomen will do that to you!

but anyhow. star peels away from jotaro to check on kakyoin, and jotaro allows it. he is concerned about kakyoin- although jotaro's guilty of it, too, it's no good to be staying up for that long and knocking yourself straight out with old coffee. he keeps chatting with camille through all of this- star platinum is up to Risky Business, but camille can't see him. jotaro's fine

(except camille CAN see him and she's too petrified to say anything about it lmao)

so while he and camille keep chatting, star platinum hovers over to kakyoin, and really takes the dude in. admittedly, kakyoin looks worse for wear. his skin has an odd pallor to it that makes jotaro feel a little queasy, and the bags under kakyoin's eyes don't go unnoticed either. his brow is deeply furrowed, and absently jotaro wonders what's plaguing kakyoin in his sleep. it's always been like this, since death 13. since the coma. he wants to smooth kakyoin's brow out, to run his thumb along it. but that's dangerous.

instead, star acts on instinct and reaches out to push The Noodle, the damnable beast, out of his face. star moves slowly- he doesn't want to wake kakyoin up, after all. it was just in the way. Of Kakyoin, that is. Not Jotaro looking at his face. Never that.

however, jotaro gets caught up in the thought, and in the implication of the thought, and star's finger brushes against kakyoin's ear way more than he had intended to (read: he hadn't intended to!! *cue internal screaming*), and oh. god. oh god. kakyoin's index finger fidgets, and then his eyebrows relax. has jotaro fucked up. oh god. if he woke up kakyoin he might just chuck himself out the window and into the traffic below them

as jotaro's thinking this, star platinum, the fucking beast, remains firmly planted in front of kakyoin. despite all the sirens going off in jotaro's mind, it stays there. most times, he feels like star platinum and he are pretty well in sync. but sometimes, he wonders if star platinum has a will of its own- is it Really just jotaro floating around in there? he wondered this at the very beginning, in that jail cell, and he begrudingly wonders about it now. getbackinhererightnow, and Yet! star platinum remains, taking in kakyoin with wide eyes. beside him, camille takes a very long sip of her coffee.

kakyoin wakes up slowly, as if sleep is not yet done with him. when he finally does manage to crack open his eyes, he blinks once, twice. slowly. why is it so bright. why is it so Purple? once his brain finally rejoins the land of the living, he is able to discern what the purple nebula before him is- it's star platinum? looking at him with eyes the size of dinner plates? his mouth utters the stand's name before he can quite process what's going on, but the second he does, splat is gone. faintly, he hears a choke from across the room, and that's what finally wakes him up. his gaze is drawn over to his and camille's kitchen, where camille is very pointedly digging around in their fridge. but next to her is the hulking jotaro kujo, choking on what kakyoin... judging by scent alone, guesses is coffee.

the scent triggers something in kakyoin’s mind, and then it all hits him like a train- overwhelming and all at once. oh dear god, he slept for far too long. he missed jotaro's arrival completely! and now jotaro is here choking on coffee in their kitchen. Jotaro is here!! and kakyoin was only just now waking up, disgustingly sweaty, under a mountainous blanket- camille's? oh dear god. what a nightmare!

in any other circumstance kakyoin would go to hug jotaro or shake his hand, but this. this was not it. his breath smelled like coffee that was much too old and God, he was so hot! he felt like his clothes had been glued to his skin. he yells out some sort of greeting, some acknowledgement that hey!! it's jotaro! but the words are jumbled and a pretty pitiful mix of english, japanese, and french. and then he vaults over the couch and into his room, WHERE! Jotaro's suitcase is?????? he trips on it, yells out some sort of profanity, grabs some clothes, and proceeds to promptly lock himself in the shower for at least fifteen minutes.

in these fifteen minutes, it's just intense kill bill sirens on all ends. kakyoin's like FUCK MAN I MISSED PICKING UP JOTARO, I CAN'T BELIEVE I SLEPT THROUGH ALL THAT! AND WHY WAS STAR LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT? AHHHH; jotaro is just. lost in the sauce. star platinum you fucking bastard you should have withdrawn much earlier! that was too close! and camille. camille just hyperfocuses on achieving the perfect blend of coffee and creamer for her second cup while pretending she did NOT just witness whatever that super tender super intimate scene was. just smile and wave camille, smile and wave and nobody will ever know you saw a thing....

they collectively pretend to agree nothing happened when kakyoin gets out of the shower. jotaro, needing something to do with his hands before his body implodes, makes kakyoin some calming drink- something his father no doubt made often during busy tours. their fingers brush when he passes the cup to kakyoin, but you know what? we are NOT going to think about it. kakyoin nurses the cup gingerly, and camille, the saint that she is, bubbles up an entirely new conversation.

and that's basically it! jotaro falls deeper down the rabbit hole, kakyoin becomes Confused, and camille begins taking notes on the Hopeless Case of One (1) Kujo Jotaro lol

#JULES NOW THAT I'M READING IT AS A POST #I JUST WANNA APOLOGIZE AGAIN FOR HITTIN U WITH THE WALL OF TEXT #IK IT'S FINE BUT MY GOD.. it really was that long huh??#anyhow!!! :3 This is the #Star Catinum #SCENE BABEY!! idk if i want to write a fic about this scene or render it as a comic but ahhh #it's one of the sda's older scenes + one that is super near and dear to my heart #everyone is a disaster!!#coffee is a mistake!#fullmetal-the-last-alchemist #long post

6 notes · View notes

dragimal · 4 years

Text

TROS thoughts? TROS thoughts.

just some thoughts abt TROS and the trilogy as a whole. I don’t actively talk abt SW much so this’ll prolly be p disorganized, but I just wanted to throw some thoughts to the wind lmao. also thanks @cobwebbing for bullying me into watching TROS as quickly as possible and also yelling abt all these jumbled thoughts with/at me

overall I rly liked it! with a lot of criticisms! and I’ll expand under the cut

so, as usual, everything reylo was p spectacular. Rey trading off her light-saber to Kylo? that last bombastic kiss? Kylo fading into a force ghost to presumably reunite w/ his family? the mutual healing of one another-- and in particular, Kylo not only sharing his own life-force, but that which Rey had previously gifted him for the stab wound??? the DRAMA! the ROMANCE!! I was going absolutely (mentally) HOGWILD during those scenes, AAAAA I couldn’t have asked for better! Rey and Kylo are totally gonna have a force-ghost honeymoon and I’m here for it

my one big criticism w/ anything involving them was Palp being Rey’s grandad. Star Wars has always had weird hangups abt bloodlines, so it felt very fresh to see the protag be a whole-ass nobody-- u don’t need to come from some line of force-sensitive heroes/baddies to be somebody! ANYBODY can be somebody if they choose to be! yeah, she technically still renounced her “evil blood” to be a good person, but it felt a lot cheaper than just letting her be a nobody that chooses that path. I feel like there’s a nugget of good to be found in her adopting the Skywalker name at the end (y’all know I’m a sucker for adopted family~), but compounded w/ all the other hangups w/ bloodlines, it kinda felt like another affirmation that only Skywalkers can ever be the big important heroes or something, idk

that all said, I don’t hate Palp’s existence in TROS, I just don’t want him related to Rey in any way. tho his existence was still a bit awkward at parts (Snoke was a clone? who were all those cultists in the stands around the throne? how did he even survive the first trilogy?? hello???). but overall I rly liked the idea that the reason Sith kill their masters is for some reincarnation-death ceremony. when u hold that against the fresh new cast of heroes in this trilogy, you get this theme of, “evil ideals are always the same-- stagnant and unchanging. good must evolve and grow to combat it.” if that makes sense? I just rly like that implication

it was weird how easily Kylo seemed to drop any connection to Vader? like when Rey knocked Vader’s mask on the ground, I thought Kylo would either feel angry that she almost destroyed it, or betrayed by the reminder that he was never rly talking to Vader anyways, or SOMETHING, but he kinda just left it there in the snow? it was just strange, after all the build-up

now aside from anything involving Rey and Kylo, everything else was..... well, it was abt as I expected. which wasn’t good, coming off the heels of TLJ’s treatment of anyone that wasn’t Rey, Kylo, or Luke. while JJ and Rian do a fantastic job w/ reylo stuff, they seem to just let everything else fall to the wayside, which is unfortunate in a lot of ways

for one, Finn is one of my favorite characters in SW as a whole, and it’s heartbreaking to see his character arcs fall apart before they even start (post-TFA). he has so much depth and potential-- enough to even be the main protag, as some have pointed out. while I don’t agree that he’s a better foil to Kylo (and that’s not just my reylo bias, like they rly don’t have the same personality chemistry or thematic conflicts imo), I could totally see a SW trilogy centered around him instead (tho idk if I’d be able to properly doctor the script to THAT degree on my own... 🤔...)

either way, Finn’s potential was rly squandered the last two movies, and I’d love to see that rectified. I’ve always been disappointed that Finn immediately went to shooting other stormtroopers in TFA w/o any hint of hesitation, so I’d ideally like to give him some conflicted feelings during TFA to start off with. then, I’ve always thought his plot in TLJ should’ve been focused completely on stormtroopers-- no casino, no fox-horse racing or anything. he and Rose would IMMEDIATELY sneak onto the FO ship from the beginning of the movie as undercover stormtroopers, gathering info for the Resistance and trying to shut down the FO’s tracking tech, while also feeling out the thoughts of fellow stormtroopers. maybe some troopers would be gung-ho abt the FO, while others would like to rebel but are too scared, while others still had never considered the option of rebellion until Finn planted just a little seed for them. however, by the end of TLJ, his efforts might’ve *seemed* useless, like the FO might’ve killed off any defecting stormtroopers. then we’d hit TROS, and Finn might be a bit colder, and bit more willing to kill stormtroopers, b/c even if he could convert them, he wouldn’t be able to protect them, so he might as well end it as quickly as possible. but THEN he’d meet the former stormtroopers-- not just strangers this time, but some of the troopers he’d met while on the FO ship in the previous movie! they’d escaped, and his efforts weren’t for naught! his actions still mattered, and continue to matter as everyone moves forward!

also, can I just say, fucking weird that Finn’s suddenly force-sensitive?? I’m not necessarily against him being force-sensitive, but I’m attached to the idea of an important character that doesn’t have any significant connection to the force-- he was just a talented dude! but even then, I think I’d be more open to it if not for how it was introduced. apparently, the only reason he (or any stormtrooper, as far as we know) defected is b/c the force told them to. no personal decisions based on morals or logic or even basal fear, just some “force-instinct”. that’s just.... so insulting to his character and the potential for stormtroopers, I’m reeling lmfao

Poe is an interesting case for me b/c I don’t feel any particular way abt him. like, he’s fine? but I care far more abt reylo and Finn than I do Poe, so I haven’t put as much thought into how I’d change his arcs, BUT I do have a few ideas. since I’d nix Finn’s casino trip in TLJ, I’d have Poe kinda take the helm of that-- rather than a slow crawl thru space on low fuel, the Resistance’s problem would be their space-jumping tech (+ the FO tracking them of course), so they’d have plenty of fuel to jump, but for some reason they’d have to recharge or re-fix something after each jump? so it’s more like a lil space roadtrip for Poe’s plot, where he’s jumping the Resistance to different planets, hiding their ships somewhere before the FO catches on, and waiting until the can jump again to the next hiding spot. all the while, Poe’s keeping in touch w/ Finn, trying to keep the FO off their tails for just a little bit longer, or gathering info on their plans. I rly liked Poe’s TLJ arc of, “sacrificing a few for the cause is actually kinda shitty,” so I’d like to keep that, like maybe he makes a few risky decisions while running? and then later, when Finn tries to sacrifice himself to the FO’s canon (in this case b/c he thinks his efforts w/ the stormtroopers didn’t work, so maybe he can do just this one thing--), Poe’s like Oh Fuck No and smacks him outta the sky. so Poe has this moment like, “wow, perhaps I’m not as ok w/ all this sacrifice as I thought? also I might have a crush?😳” and then in TROS he’s coming to terms w/ his crush on Finn (and Zorii’s like, *nudges* “OH-HO??~”), but Finn’s still a bit broken up over how everything w/ the stormtroopers turned out in TLJ, so he’s been difficult to connect to. then when Finn meets the former stormtroopers, he gains back some of that confidence in connecting to others, and he finally *sees* Poe for the first time in a while and it’s all romantic and junk heheh

tbh I don’t actually feel particularly strongly abt finnpoe as a pairing, BUT I rly like the potential it has for Finn and Poe’s respective character arcs, and especially how it could so lovingly tie into TROS’ theme of, “we are only as strong as we are together, and together we can beat this.” unfortunately, that theme in and of itself is also kinda awkward coming on the heels of TLJ, where the Resistance was abandoned by the galaxy when there was only a small fleet of FO forces to deal with, yet the galaxy comes to aid when there’s a fuckin billion FO ships w/ PLANET-DESTROYING TECH on-board each?? I know the 2nd movie’s supposed to be a low point, but the huge turn-around in TROS just doesn’t make a whole lotta sense to me, and I don’t know how to fix that one lmao

Rose is.... a difficult one. I rly want to like her b/c I love Kelly and she has cute moments, but TLJ already didn’t give her a lot to work with, and she had insultingly little to do in TROS. I think that perhaps she’d work well as Poe’s thematic foil in TLJ? Rose’s sister was one of the ones sacrificed under Poe’s direction, so she prolly wouldn’t be too pleased w/ that, and would bring up counterpoints to Poe’s risky maneuvers w/ the Resistance whenever they check in w/ him. then when Poe goes to rescue Finn from the canon, Rose’s words are what play thru his head. for TROS, I’d gladly replace C3PO or Chewie (or both) w/ her, lmao. I can’t necessarily think of an arc for her, but TROS was already juggling so many anyways, I think it would’ve been fine for her to maybe be a lynch-pin for the squad-- someone trying to hold everyone together through these dire circumstances, but everything starts to fall apart... until some significant moment where she helps pull everyone back together, thus completing the theme of the film. also I would’ve felt FAR more distressed if it was Rose that was supposedly on the destroyed transport ship (tho that scene was already kinda stupid like... why couldn’t Rey sense that Chewie wasn’t on there... hm..)

the Hux betrayal was obvious even from as far back as TFA, but it was weird he was replaced by a nobody we never met before and don’t care abt lmfao. I mean I don’t rly care for Hux at all, but I care even less for this stranger who has no personality lmfao

#star wars #the rise of skywalker #rise of skywalker #star wars tros #tros spoilers #I guess after I script-doctored the whole HTTYD series I realized I rly like doing that #who knew lmao #shut up ashley

2 notes · View notes

365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Forty-Nine: Baseball ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto ] [ SasuHina, NaruSaku ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

Another day, another block of practice.

Baseball is the only sport Sasuke’s ever played. His brother before him had excelled in soccer, and - not wanting to be directly compared to his brother, who can do no wrong - Sasuke chose another sport. And, like Itachi, he’s excelled in his chosen game.

And now, it’s his senior year...and all he can think about this Spring is getting to the State finals and finally taking the championship cup. Because as hard as his team works, and as good as he is (alongside many of the other players), they just haven’t quite made it that far.

After all, he’s seen the recruiters for college teams hanging around the practice field, and at their games, talking with the coach. If he could get a scholarship for baseball...he’d be over the moon.

Hence why he never misses a single practice. It’s made juggling homework a bit of a hassle, but he hopes - in the end - work on both aspects will serve him well.

“Oi, Sasuke!”

Looking up from his mitt he’s been contemplating as he thinks, the Uchiha jostles as Naruto swings an arm over his shoulders. “What?”

“Ready for the game on Saturday?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. You?”

“Duh! Hey, guess what!” Naruto takes a step back, hands curled under his chin as his eyes go starry. “Sakura agreed to come watch!”

“Did she now?” Sasuke asks boredly, flexing his glove experimentally.

“Yeah! If we win, I’m gonna ask her on a date!”

“...and?”

“Whaddaya mean, ‘and’?”

“You ask her on dates all the time,” Sasuke retorts, seeing his friend stiffen. “What makes this any different?”

“Cuz...cuz she’ll see how awesome I am! If we win, she’ll be so impressed, there’s no way she’d say no!”

“Whatever you say.” In all honesty, Sasuke would be glad for it. The day Sakura gives up trying to get him to date her, he’ll be a very happy man.

Their practice isn’t very heavy given the game the following day, so the pair shower and make to head home a bit early. On the way through, they pass the tennis courts, still occupied by students.

Glancing nonchalantly through the chain link fence, Sasuke searches for a moment before spotting her.

Sporting a matching lilac and white tank and shorts, Hinata Hyūga faces him, focused on her practice match against an upperclassmen he vaguely recognizes as some chick named Tenten. A visor sits over her brow to shade her eyes, long hair up in a high tail, bouncing slightly in anticipation for her opponent’s serve.

“Man, tennis seems like it’d be a pain, right?”

“Huh?” Glancing back to his friend, Sasuke breaks his stare.

“I mean, it’s got so much...leg work!”

“So does baseball when you’re on the field.”

“But not as consistently! Depends on where the ball goes. Here? You can’t escape the damn ball! Imagine having to bat, like...the whole game! Over and over again!”

“Guess that’s why tennis is tennis, and baseball is baseball, idiot.”

“M’just sayin’, you gotta be tough to do tennis! I mean, imagine how much more ripped Sakura would be if she played this instead of softball!”

There’s a silent hint of pride in Sasuke’s mind at the comparison. After all, he’s pretty much saying someone like Hinata is tougher than someone like Sakura.

And given that Sasuke’s been crushing on Hinata for all of high school, and detesting Sakura...that makes him very happy indeed.

But it does puzzle him a bit. Sure, Sakura’s lithe and sinewy - she’s hardly got an ounce of fat on her (which, yes, means hardly any hips or chest). Hinata, on the other hand...is so soft. She’s heavier set than Sakura despite - as Naruto says - playing what seems like a more intense sport.

Of course, that’s not all that plays into a person’s build, he supposes. And while Hinata also plays volleyball in the Fall, Sakura does that, and does swimming in the Winter.

But - personally speaking - he’d rather have a girlfriend who’s soft than one all...boney and tough.

Which only makes it all the more disappointing that Hinata happens to be rather fond of a certain blond idiot he knows.

Why the girls can’t just...swap their affections, he’ll never know. Surely everyone would be a lot happier.

The coach then calls for a break, and the players all relax. Heaving a weary sigh, Hinata takes a swig from a purple water bottle before noticing that they have an audience. Her face brightens.

And it kills him that it��s not because she sees him. It’s because of Naruto.

Crossing the court, she flashes a smile, cheeks a bit pink. “H-hey guys!”

“Hey Hinata,” Naruto greets, tone a bit awkward as always. He’s aware of the Hyūga girl’s crush, and...to put it bluntly, it makes him squirm whenever he has to talk to her.

“Hey,” Sasuke offers, trying his best to keep his own voice cool. So far - at least, from what he can tell - no one’s noticed his own bias when it comes to the awkward love square that the four teens have found themselves in.

Hinata’s fingers cling to the fence. “I h-heard you guys have a game tomorrow!”

“Yeah! Tomorrow at two!”

“Maybe...I could come watch?”

Naruto winces ever so slightly. “Uh...yeah, sure! Sakura’s gonna go, so...you guys could, like...sit together! Or something!”

At the mention of the rosette, Hinata deflates ever so slightly.

He hates it.

“Oh...o-okay!”

“What about you?”

“Eh?”

Shifting a bit, Sasuke asks again. “When’s your next tennis match?”

“Oh...um, we have away games on Tuesday. B-but then we have a home game next Saturday! You...you could come watch, if - if you want?”

“Aw man, Sakura’s got a game that day,” Naruto laments, but Sasuke knows he’s anything but disappointed. “Hey, maybe next time!”

“O-oh! Y-yeah, sure!” Hinata gives a smile, clearly forced.

“I’d go.”

Both Hinata and Naruto turn to him curiously. “You...you would?”

“Sure.”

“But Sasuke, what about Sakura’s game?” Naruto counters with a frown.

“I’ve seen her play before. Never seen a tennis match.”

Something shifts in Hinata’s expression - a mix of genuine surprise, and...something else he can’t place. “I...I would like that. No one, um...no one really comes to...to watch me play.”

“What?” Naruto frowns. “What about your dad?”

“He...he’s busy,” Hinata deflects, waving a hand.

“And your sister?”

“She, um...she’s got a lot of homework. Middle school’s a lot h-harder nowadays.”

Sasuke’s brows furrow just a hair.

“B-but, um...it would be neat to have a...a friend come watch!” Hinata smiles again, and he can tell it’s more genuine this time around. “You - you have fun at Sakura’s game, Naruto. Maybe you can catch the n-next one.”

Behind her, the coach warns their break is nearly over, and she looks over her shoulder. “Well...I better get back to it.”

“Yeah - see ya around, Hinata!” Waving, Naruto takes off at a jog.

Sasuke watches him go, not quite in such a hurry.

“Um…”

Turning back, he sees Hinata hesitate.

“You...you don’t have to go if you d-don’t want to. To my match, I-I mean. I wasn’t...trying to guilt anyone into it...”

“I do want to go.”

“You...you do?”

“Yeah, I do.”

The same shade of surprise pulls at her face.

Feeling she’s wanting an explanation, Sasuke glances aside, trying to play it off. “Like I said, never watched tennis before. But I already play baseball - kinda boring to watch softball. Besides...Naruto’s the one who likes Sakura. I don’t want to steal his thunder. He already managed to drag her to the game tomorrow.”

“Oh...y-yeah.” Her eyes turn downcast for a moment.

“...you ever consider that you deserve to use your time on someone who wants to use their time on you?”

The question makes her jump. “I...w-what?”

“Naruto. I think you and I both know he’s not interested. So why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

For a moment she looks scandalized, not expecting to be asked such a thing. “...I…” Clearly thinking over his words, she slowly goes slack with a kind of understanding.

Someone...who wants to use their time on her? Does he mean like -?

“...nevermind,” Sasuke mutters, shouldering his duffle bag. “See you at the game tomorrow.”

“B-but -?”

Looking frustrated with himself, Sasuke doesn’t answer, leaving the courts to head for home.

...he just royally screwed that up, didn’t he? He’s such an idiot -

“Sasuke!”

Startling, he turns to see Hinata jogging up behind him. “What -?”

“I...I w-wanted to say thank you.”

“...for?”

“For, um…” Hesitating, she worries her fingertips for a moment. “For...saying you’ll go to my game.” Another pause. “...for...using your time on me.”

Connecting her words to his, he stiffens, going a light shade of pink.

She watches his expression, clearly making connections of her own. “...see you tomorrow.”

“...y-yeah.” Watching her retreat to the courts, Sasuke just...blinks. Did...did she just…?

...well...one more reason to win tomorrow.

.oOo.

...I actually like this one a lot xD I was never the sporty kid in school - I was the artsy, musicky, theatery kid, haha! So a lot of this is pretty foreign to me, but...I tried, lol Gotta love the good ol' fashioned love square of team seven + Hinata. While I'm not the biggest shipper of NaruSaku, it just sort of...makes sense when put alongside SasuHina. At least, imo - hence why I tend to use it as a foil for them! But it's not high school without some kind of relationship drama, right? Even in my teeny tiny high schools of like 100 people, seems there was always some kind of dating fiasco going on xD Ah, the good ol' days lol Anyway, it's VERY late, and I need to get more sleep than I did last night, eh heh...but, thanks for reading!

(Also I’m sorry Tumblr readers, I can’t put in a page break between the drabble and my ANs? I dunno if it’s just glitching or if Tumblr removed it...guess we’ll see as time goes on ^^; Hence the...alternate break lol)

#sasuhina #narusaku #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uzumaki naruto #best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

15 notes · View notes

oumiyuki · 5 years

Note

i will come with simple one now do ChikaYou No.38 idk if someone already request before me but i just make my head and heart clear for this

38. “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Title: It’s all your fault

Pairing: ChikaYou

Genre: Fluff and Romance

Words: 1022

Author Notes

This is a cute prompt, isn’t it? :P I hope you like it, Cream!

May you enjoy~ XD

“So you’ve to take note of your mathematics grades, okay Takami? And…”

Chika nods to the teacher though her mind was elsewhere.

I feel like this teacher has been talking for half an hour already…Will You-chan be bored waiting for me outside..?

“Okay. Be sure to revise and do your homework.”

Chika breaks into a smile that the nag was finally over and she gives a more enthusiastic nod. “Understood, teacher. Can I- May I go now?”

The teacher sighs; not needing to ask to know that the orangehead did not want to hear any more. “Alright. Head home before dark.”

“Kay~” Chika hurries out the teacher’s lounge.

Yosh! Here I come, You-chan! Sorry for the wait!

Chika jogs to the school gate where her girlfriend would be waiting but she slows to a stand when she notices a bunch of girls surrounding the ash-brunette – and they were laughing and smiling. Chika pouts at the scene.

… And here I was feeling bad for making you wait. Yet you’re happily chatting with a bunch of fangirls.

The orangehead stares from the side; feeling upset that her girlfriend’s attention wasn’t on her, those sky blue eyes weren’t looking at her.

How should I make my presence known…

Chika’s teeth play with her bottom lip as her mind juggled a few ideas to approach You and get her away from the group of people who shouldn’t be there – in Chika’s honest opinion. One idea stays in the orangehead’s mind and since she could not be bothered to think of more, she goes with it.

Taking long strides over to You, Chika executes her dramatic entry that was guaranteed to capture all of You’s attention – tripping herself to fall headfirst in the swimmer’s direction.

You notices Chika approaching but was shocked into action when her girlfriend started falling. You hurriedly catches Chika so her girlfriend won’t meet the floor.

“Ch-Chika-chan!? Are you okay?” You searches Chika’s face for signs of harm or exhaustion or anything, her voice thick with concern. A few seconds of appraising and You scoops Chika up into a bridal carry, and she carries her off, giving the fangirls a brief smile before giving all of her attention to bringing her girlfriend away.

Uu…You-chan…of all the many ways you can bring me away, you choose to carry me like this!

A good five minutes of walking later, You slows her pace considerably and breaks the silence, “So, how long are you gonna pretend to be unconscious?“

You-chan knew!

Chika opens her eyes reluctantly with a huge duck-billed pout and drawled out grunt.

If you knew, you could have said something earlier…

You couldn’t keep it in anymore and she chuckles, those chuckles turning into full body laughter. Chika’s face bursts into hot flames of embarrassment.

"D-don’t laugh!"

Mou, You-chan!!!

The ash-brunette could not stop her laughing as she keeps a firm hold of Chika. "I…can’t…” You speaks in between the laughter bubbling out of her. “You fainted… straight into my arms…”

“Uuu…..” Chika pulls at You’s blazer since she could practically do nothing else. She already did the deed and has to suffer the embarrassing consequences.

“You know, if you wanted my attention…you didn’t have to go to such extremes…” You blinks some tears of joy that have appeared from all her laughing; though she was unable to wipe it off since her hands were busy carrying her girlfriend.

“Ahhh, it’s all your fault okay! Here I was worried that I kept You-chan waiting for too long and you’d be bored outside. Yet..! Yet you were happily chatting with a bunch of other girls!” Chika harrumphs after a whole lot of pulling at You’s blazer to the point that it was out of place and crumply - You, of course, does not mind one bit.

You should know by now that I’d be jealous!

The ash-brunette smiles widely at her adorable girlfriend being all sweet and jealous and unreasonable but cute.

“Stop grinning!!"

"Don’t ask for the impossible, Chika-chan~ And you know…” You trails off to capture the orangehead’s interest which works as Chika waits, wide-eyed still pouty.

“I may not have been too bored waiting for you, but I can only have the most fun when I’m spending it with you, Chika-chan. Not any other girl.” You finishes with a gentle and charming smile.

Chika swallows then groan and flails about in You’s arms. “Let me go…baka-You-chan! Pervert!”

Stupid charming You-chan!

“Eh? Why?"

"Flirt! Playgirl!"

Always making my heart go doki-doki! Mou!!

Chika’s rough flailing leaves You with little choice but to carefully let Chika be back on the floor, though she keeps their hands connected as the orangehead calls her many things she believes she’s not.

"Chika-chan? I truly mean what I say…And if I only ever tell you these things…Surely you can’t call me a flirt that way." You says in a rather sad tone, lips almost a tiny, hurt frown.

Chika puffs her red cheeks out and lowers her gaze, mumbling indignantly. "I don’t care…baka."

You should be the one asking for forgiveness here…Why are you making me feel bad?

You breathes a sigh of relief out her nose as she could tell that Chika doesn’t mean any of the titles labelled on her a moment ago, and the way Chika was squeezing and tugging her hand closer to her means Chika loves her just as much as she does for her mikan-lover. You giggles again.

Chika blushes more at that.

Mou…Why is You-chan so cute when vulnerable? And that giggle is just against the rules…

Chika squeezes You’s hand harder, reflecting the tight squeeze of her heart as her love for You grows yet again. Thinking back, Chika knows why she would feign fainting to get You’s attention, it truly is the best method to getting closer to her girlfriend. Chika gives You a sideward glance and a small but hugely in love smile.

Seeing You looking right at her and a full-blown smile appearing just for her, Chika can’t help but feel happiness enveloping them.

Yeah, You-chan is my girlfriend and only mine. No one else’s.

Author Notes

I wanna write more!! @w@

But first, some blushy Chika feign fainting into her girlfriend’s fit arms~ mm~ www hehe~

Hope y’all enjoyed this! *O*

Leave me a comment if you like~ :P (I’ll be catching Z’s and dreaming of ChikaYou~ :P hehe~)

#chikayou #youchika #love live! sunshine!!#watanabe you #takami chika #love live!#fanfiction #fanfic #drabbles #writing #yuri #fluff #romance #prompt ask #prompts ask

18 notes · View notes

littlemisssquiggles · 5 years

Note

as a fellow pinehead, i dont personally ship rosegarden. i have no problem with it, but i just wish there was more content that focused solely on oscar instead of his relationship with ruby. i appreciate your blog since you actually make a lot of stuff pertaining to oscar specifically, i just wish it was more common ;w;

Inthe fandom or in the series? I’m assuming it’s the series because I think there’sa good bit of Oscar-themed stuff in the Pinehead community like art andtheories =D

Asfor the series…I…well----IfI’m being completely honest Flame, even though I’m a big Rosegardener, Iwouldn’t want Oscar’s entire story revolve only around hisgrowing relationship with Ruby either. Though I enjoy every last Rosebud bonding momentthe series tosses my way, if Oscar’s character comes to only focus on his bondwith Ruby and nothing else then it would unfortunately fall into the same issueI had with Oscar’s story with Ozpin.

Whatintrigued me the most about Oscar as a character was his potential. What drew me towardsOscar wasn’t his connection to Ozpin but how the writers were going topotentially tell his story as this newestaddition to the hero cast while going through the transition of being theperson that’s meant to become Ozpin’s successor. I was intrigued to see how thewriters were going to handle Oscar’s development while juggling his conjoinedstory with Ozpin and any shared relationships the two might have with othercharacters.

However, thus far, one could make the debate that Oscar’s story and personality has mostly been forged by his ties to other maincharacters meaning that his overall presence thus far has mostly served todrive another character’s narrative while not really touching much on his own.

If it’s not Ozpin then it’s Ruby and if it’s not Ruby then it’s Jauneand there hasn’t been much attempt to fleshhim out beyond that. This justifies why C9 upset me so much. Rather than havingthe episode focus on how Oscar handled taking in Jaune’s accusations againsthim from C8 or even showing both Jaune and Oscar’s feelings in the episode as aforeshadow to them growing close as potential teammates. Instead, we only gotJaune’s perspective while Oscar’s was completely omitted from the episode, toldto have happened off screen which left some Pineheads very dissatisfied.

Oneother complaint about Oscar in V6 C9 that I’veseen is that the Writers used him as a plot device to drive development forJaune as opposed to what C8 set up which looked like Oscar’s feelings weregoing to get touched upon. As much as I’ve gotten over some of my gripes aboutC9, Oscar going from being depressed in C8 to being perfectly fine in C9without much on-screen address will always remain jarring me.

WhenI review C9,somehow I feel like there was supposed to be a short 12-13 minute standaloneOscar-centric episode between the events of C8 and C9 that would’ve explainedwhat happened with our farm boy after he went missing in Argus that got cutfrom the season. V6 was originally announced to have 14 episodes before reducingto 13. I feel like if the CRWBY had gotten the chance to do the original 14, wecould have gotten that Oscar-centric episode that tied into C9. But…that’sjust me assuming things.

Notsure how long you’ve been following my blog Flame but forthose who’ve been reading my musing posts since V5, I’ve been gunning for Ozpinto be temporarily taken out of the story solely for the possibility of theWriters finally given more depth toOscar as his own person outside of his story with Ozpin.

InV5,Oscar mostly took a backseat to Ozpin. I went into V5 thinking we would get to seemore of Oscar’s own personality as he learns to become a huntsman whileconnecting with RNJR and simultaneously training to fill the big Wizarding shoesthat he was meant to take over. Instead what we mostly got was Ozpin stealingthe screen time rug from underneath Oscar’s feet pushing him to the back as wegot more of him than Oscar.

Oneof the common critiques I heard for Oscar is that he’s been treated like a body suit forOzpin---a new face the old Wizard could wear while the Writers didnothing to develop Oscar as his own person.

Asa Pinehead,I hated hearing that complaint about Oscar because obviously there was more tohim than just a body for Ozpin to take over when he saw fit, as most Pineheads seeOscar. However, I unfortunately couldn’t blame other fans for thinking that waysince…well…the show hasn’t really done much with Oscar within two seasonsadmittedly. Not really.

Evenwhen Ozpin is out of the story, we still didn’t get to learn much else aboutOscar. With Ozpin going into isolation, I was hoping V6 would have been the season wegot more insight into Oscar as his own person. Did we? Well the verdict is stillout on that since the season isn’t complete yet. But if I had to answer thisquestion based on what the volume gave us within the last ten episodes, theanswer would be a disappointing no. Though the set up for Oscar’s growth wasdefinitely there, it didn’t exactly go anywhere...at least...not yet, maybe there’s still a chance.

I mean we still gotthree whole episodes left for our precious farm boy to shine like gold brighter thana supernova but I can’t help my slight skepticism based on this season’s run with him. Nonetheless I am curious to know what the full payoff of this season is going to be like for Oscar.

After all that’s happened this season in ties to Oscar and Ozpin, how is it all going to end?

This is why I started toying with the concept of Oscar returning from the dead as immortal after sacrificing himself to protect someone he cared about, like Ruby.

This way the Ozma legacy would continue with Oscar without the threat of him losing himself in the process. We all pretty muchanticipated Oscar eventually taking Ozpin’s place within the hero team but thisway, Oscar doesn’t have to change who he is.

He can still be his own person, cementing what Ruby told him in V6 C4.

“...I’m just going to another one of his lives, aren’t I?”“Of course not, you’re your own person.”

If immortalized, Oscar can still be himself and thus,we as an audience can still be given more opportunities to learn more aboutOscar as himself. Oscar can still fulfill his destiny as one of the Wizards ofLight but still make it his own by having his experience and final outcome be different from his predecessors.

Istill stand by my hunch that Oscar is meant to be the one to end it all. Endthe vicious cycle of reincarnation. End the curse.

It would be such a cool twist if Oscar met the God ofLight in the Realm between Realms and begged the God to grant him immortalityso that he could end the suffering of Ozma and the past Wizards; instead usinghis newfound power to protect the lives of the people who matter the most toOscar all the while fighting to stop Salem as her true adversary.

Jinn said that in time Salem wouldmeet her adversary but when you look at it like this, was Ozma ever trulySalem’s destined foe?

Think aboutit. Ozmawas originally Salem’s lover. Her former companion and the father of her children.Though they became sworn enemies who fought against each other, a part of mewould like to believe there is a part of Salem and even Ozma that stillharboured love for each other.

What I love about the Fairy Tale romance is that they shared a deep love so strongthat Salem was even able to tell that it was Ozma’s soul from behind the faceof Diggs when they reunited the first time. Salem loved Ozmaso much she even recognized him in the body of another man. That’s powerful.

Iknow Salem hates Ozma now but imagine if all that hatred she feels is just herlove corrupted by the burning destructive magic that turned Salem into thewicked witch she is now. As a matter of fact, there is something I’ve wonderedabout Salem. If Salem was able to sense Ozma’s soulfrom inside Diggs due to their love, if Ozma’s soul is to disappear completelyfrom this world…would Salem feel it?

Likelet’s say my theory about Oscar coming back from the deadalone as himself immortalized with Ozpin and essentially the culmination of allthe other Wizards over the centuries, including Ozma, going off to the afterlifeto rest in peace…would Salem feel Ozma no longer being a part of Remnant?

I know this conceptseems farfetched but somehow I’m picturing Salem as being the type of person who holds a grudgefor a very long time but the minute they discover that the person they’ve hatedfor so long is gone---truly gone forever, suddenly all that anger and ragedisappears as their true feelings forsaid person start to resurface.

Likepicture Salem being alone in her lair when Oscar is revivedand she suddenly senses Ozma’s soul disappear.Like even though they’ve been apart for eons, somehow through her corruptedheart there has always been something that still connected Salem to Ozma. A little light oflove. Though Salem did her best to cover that light, still it remained.Taunting her. Bothering heruntil she had no choice but to snuff it out sendingher forces to kill the source of that light.

Butjust like life, the light would always return until one day, the light finallydisappeared and unlike the previous times, it felt different.

Imagine…how Salem would feel tolearn that Ozpin---Ozma is gone. Truly gone. Somehow, I can just picture Salembeing in her lair of darkness when she suddenly gets a feeling of the windbeing knocked out of her. She then clutches her chest as she realized whathappened. He’sgone. He’s…actuallygone. No longer did she have the light that connected her to Ozma.

He…was gone again and for a second time, Salem found herself in a world withoutthe man she defied the Gods for. And for the first time in years, what she feltwasn’t pure rage. But a familiar sadness that she hasn’t felt since the day shefirst lost him and when Salem looked at her reflection, she was surprised tonot see herself but the face of a young woman crying for the loss of the manshe once loved for the second time in her lifetime.

Thatcould really interesting. I doubt we’ll get something like this for Salem inthe canon but it could’ve been something interesting to send off her characterstory for this volume. After all, we haven’t seen her since C4 but c’est la vie.

Ithink it would be really cool if the adversary Jinn foreshadowed Salem having isin fact Oscar. And if Oscar becomes an immortal justlike Salem, incapable of dying just as her then that would make him her true adversary as opposed to the original arrangement with Ozmaonly reincarnating in the bodies of likeminded souls.

Butas always, these are only my theories. I feel like we have a higher chance ofseeing Ozpin come back or the Merge occurring than Oscar actually changing thecycle with his sacrifice to be the last reincarnation. Buuuuut I’m still going to play with the idea.Whether it becomes canon or not, I really like my Oscar Immortalized/ The Last Wizard of Lighttheory too much to let it drop. Can’t wait to discuss it more next week.

Inthe meantime, I’m really glad you enjoy my content Flame. Thank you so much forappreciating my stuff and putting up with my bazillion and one Pinehead headcanons XD

I’dlove more Oscar-centric content too, mainly from the actual show. But we got threeepisodes remaining m’friend. Who knows? Maybethe CRWBY Writers might surprise us with something truly Oscar-worthy.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

#squiggles answers: rwby #oscar pine #professor ozpin #oscar and ozpin #salem and ozma #rwby salem #rwby theories #rwby spoilers #flame-cat

36 notes · View notes