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nbrook29 · 3 years

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Kiss or Slap part 2

part 1

Robbe stands in front of the mirror, eyes critical as he assesses the forest green shirt, plucking at the collar that’s digging uncomfortably into his neck. It’s not like the shirt is ugly; the problem is that it’s not and that it looks a bit too formal. But then again, Robbe wouldn’t know for sure since he’s never been on a real date before. He’s feeling a bit helpless in that area, to be honest.

He has a half a mind to text the boys and ask for advice, but just as the thought passes his brain he scoffs because it’s just silly; the only thing he would gain from doing that would be merciless teasing for weeks on end. Thanks, but no thanks.

Sighing, he glances in the direction of the hall, debating with himself whether asking for Zoe’s opinion is the right option here, but deep down he knows that otherwise, he’s gonna be standing i front of that mirror agonizing over his appearance for the next twenty minutes if someone doesn’t talk some sense into him.

The way Zoe’s eyes widen in surprise when he enters her room lets him know that yes, he is overdressed.

“Too much?” He scrunches up his face, feeling a bit self-conscious.

“Well, I mean... you look really nice, but, um, maybe go for a t-shirt instead?” Zoe suggests, looking almost apologetic. Robbe hovers in the threshold, still not totally convinced.

“Yeah?”

“You clearly feel uncomfortable in that, plus he’s not taking you to an expensive restaurant or something so I think you should just go for chill,” she pauses, trying to remember something. “That pink t-shirt you have? You look really cute in it! You should wear that.”

“I don’t wanna look cute, Zoe, I wanna look hot,” Robbe blurts out, pink blooming on his cheeks when Zoe coos at him in that annoying way she always does and he immediately covers his face. “Stop.”

She giggles at his embarrassment, patting his arm consolingly as she pretends to give him a once over. “You do look hot, no matter what shirt you’re wearing.”

“Yuck, that sounds weird coming from you.” Robbe fake-gags and gets a smack on his chest. “I’m outta here, thanks.” Before he manages to close the door, Zoe catches his arm and shoots him a comforting smile.

“And calm down. He’s already into you, he won’t care what you’re wearing, Robbe.”

It’s easier said than done. Ever since he woke up, he’s been a giddy, anxious, yet excited mess, butterflies flying rampant in his stomach, fingers drumming absent-mindedly on the nearest surface, and he’s-

Well.

He’s been kinda freaking out.

Somehow (he has no idea how), he managed to keep his cool during that faithful afternoon a week ago when a boy came up to him with a dumb YouTube challenge, he’d even call himself flirty and bold.

He’s not so sure he’ll be able to provide a repeat performance tonight. Not with that particular charming smile directed at him, almost making him whimper because no one should have the right to be that handsome. At the time, the infatuation was laced with disappointment and anger so Robbe guesses that’s what helped him keep his cool.

Only to melt into a pile of goo minutes later when Sander’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment over what popped on his phone screen.

Bambie eyes

Robbe smiles at the memory, trying to keep it small and not look like a psychopath that’s grinning to himself for no reason. It proves to be difficult though, those damn butterflies not easing out when an image of Sander combing his fingers through his longish bleached strands pops into his mind, uninvited, but oh so welcome if Robbe’s being honest.

Back in his bedroom, he fishes out the pink t-shirt from the drawer, sending a thank you to the past Robbe who finally did his laundry last Wednesday. His comfort level is up immediately after he takes the green shirt off and pulls the pink one over his head; the material doesn’t dig in anywhere, and it’s just... him. He doesn’t feel like a clown anymore.

A quick look at his watch and he curses under his breath. If he doesn’t want to be late, he needs to leave in five minutes tops. It’s probably better this way since it means less time for freaking out. Once he sprays a bit of cologne on his clothes and grabs his wallet, he gives himself one last look in the mirror, fingers attempting to tame his curls at least a little, but it proves to be a lost cause. As usual. His hair just has a mind of its own. He doesn’t let himself obsess too much about it though, and as he closes the door behind the flatshare his mind wanders to two weekends ago, the corners of his lips twitching on their own.

“You look like an angel with those curls. I should get you a halo or s’mthing.”

He’s in his personal space all of a sudden and as Sander’s breath grazes his face, Robbe’s own breath stutters, but the freakout has no time to breakthrough on his features because Sander’s eyes swivel up, glazed with alcohol as he tugs gently at one of the brown strands.

“I really like ‘em, you know? They’re so... silky. And pretty.” A lightbulb goes on in his head, his lips widening in a smile. “You’re so pretty.”

Drunken confessions never really seemed particularly sweet to him, but with Sander gazing at him like he hung the moon and the stars, his jaw slightly open as if in wonder, it was difficult for Robbe to feel anything else than fondness, heart fluttering in his chest, so enamoured with the boy with white hair that it would have blushed if it could.

That white hair and green eyes have been the main stars of his dreams ever since.

Okay. That’s not entirely true. There were glimpses before that. After all, Sander had been the first thing he noticed at the Academie. But at the time, he had only been his looks to Robbe, golden skin and intriguing smirks, face scattered with moles and legs for days.

And lips. Lips that looked soft like a rose petal.

He had dreamed about those lips a lot then.

He still can’t believe his brain holds the memory of kissing them with his own.

Again. Peak boldness for him.

And yet, he’s so nervous now, walking fast-paced to the nearest tram stop, praying his chaotic energy won’t make him look like an idiot once he’s faced with Sander again. His only saving grace, the only reason the full on freakout seems to be kept at bay is the reminder that even though Sander is way out of his league, he’s also a bit of a dork, and that honestly makes Robbe feel better.

He’s a hot dork though.

But a dork nonetheless.

Deep down Robbe hopes he’s gonna become his dork.

The city passes behind the window in a whirlwind of colors, creating the perfect background for him to get lost in his thoughts, daydreaming to the sounds of the playlist crafted specifically for him, courtesy of Sander. As Bowie sings about absolute beginners, a notification ping pulls him back from his musings, lips smiling on their own when he sees Sander posted a photo.

And what a photo it is, fuck.

A part of his face, edges smudged with shadows leaving only his eye in focus, dark eyebrow curtained a little with wet bleached strands, everything in black and white aesthetics because Sander rarely does colors, Robbe came to find out.

With eyes completely open

But nervous all the same

He wonders if the lyrics relate to their date or it’s just his wishful thinking.

Quick fingers like the photo and then take a screenshot of his own Spotify to send it to him. Robbe doesn’t have to wait long for the reply, a string of “🤯” blowing up his phone followed by “I’m so proud 🤧”, which again confirms that Sander is, indeed, a dork.

Robbe shoots him a “😂” and scrolls up a bit to check the address again.

Robbe: I watched the video

Robbe: It was cool 😎

Sander: Oh yeah?

Robbe: But somebody cut me out of it 🤔🙄

Sander: I told them to, it was too personal 😌

Robbe: Oh 🙃

Sander: + You're too pretty for our dumb videos 🤷🏼‍♂️

Robbe: 🙈 stop

Sander: You are 🤷🏼‍♂️

Robbe: You're making me blush 🙊

Sander: Well good, you're cute when your cheeks are all pink 😏

Robbe: 🤪

Sander: But you're always cute so 🤷🏼‍♂️

Robbe: Okay stop haha

Sander: 😎

Robbe: Thank you tho 😊

Sander: You're welcome x

Sander: Now go to sleep, I need you to be rested for tomorrow!

Robbe: Tell me where we're going 🥺

Sander: Nope

Robbe: Please 🥺

Sander: Nope 😌

Robbe: How should I know you're not gonna kidnap me or sth 🤔

Sander: Robin! I would never! 😟😟

Robbe: Robin?

Sander: Yeah

Sander: You like it? :)

Robbe: I think so :)

Sander: Good 😌

Sander: Oranje Street, that's all you need to know

Sander: Goodnight Bambi Robin 🦌😏

Robbe: Shdjskahaggfdsk 🙈🙈

Sander: Hehe

Sander: 😚

Robbe: 😊

The Robin part pulls another involuntary grin out of him again, the jitters in his stomach intensifying, but now they’re more anticipatory than nervous. He checks his hair in his selfie camera, running a hand through it to mess it up a little just when his stop comes.

The neighborhood is busy with the Friday rush and he has trouble finding white hair in the crowd from where he’s leaning on the lantern. Swaying awkwardly he keeps looking around, feeling his stress levels raising with each second and telling himself to get a fucking grip.

“Hey, Robin.”

His poor heart just can’t catch a break today.

Jumping a foot above the ground before swiveling around to smack Sander’s chest, the first thing he sees is his toothy grin, face smug at almost giving Robbe a heart attack.

“Asshole.” His grumble is all for show, the corners of his mouth pulling up when Sander presses a soft hello kiss to his cheek.

“Sorry, didn’t wanna scare you.” He could win awards for least sincere apologies ever, but Robbe would lie to himself if he said he didn’t find his playfulness attractive. Also, he’s still trying to get his heartbeat under control that has less to do with actual scare and more with the warm breath grazing his ear and the fanthom feel of lips on his cheek.

“Sure you didn’t.”

Sander chuckles at his deadpan face that lets him know Robbe knows he’s full of shit. Raising his arms in capitulation, he says another sorry before giving him a not so subtle once over, his features softening.

“You look really pretty.”

His voice sounds uncharacteristically shy, Robbe notices, and he keeps biting his lip nervously. This sudden shyness looks exceptionally endearing on him.

Eyeing his t-shirt critically, he cocks his brow at Sander, hand scratching his head in a self-conscious move. “Thank you. It’s nothing special though.”

“Then I guess it’s just you,” Sander replies, shrugging matter-of-factly, and keeps giving him that charming smile that weakens Robbe’s knees.

But he still rolls his eyes on him, snorting as he mutters “smooth” to which Sander pretends to hold his chest dramatically, swearing it’s not a line and that he’s being honest.

“Okay, okay, let’s say I believe you,” Robbe gives in after being defeated with a strong case of puppy eyes. “Now come on, tell me where we’re going.”

The faux-serious expression on Sander’s face melts into a full of promise smirk. “Prepare to be mind blown!”

And then he takes off, firing a wink over his shoulder at Robbe who’s gaping at him, flabbergasted. This mixture of confidence and shyness taking turns emanating from Sander has a peculiar effect on him, making him follow the boy without another question. He’s intrigued, curious to find out what’s underneath this cockiness that Robbe has a feeling is all for show, a cover up, but for what he has no clue.

They fall into an easy conversation on the way to their destination, interrupted with a string of Robbe’s guesses as to what that destination is and Sander shooting him down everytime, his smile getting fonder with each pout directed at him. So far it’s been way less awkward than Robbe feared, familiar almost, safe, melting away the anxious lump in his stomach. The good-natured teasing reminding Robbe of his relationship with Zoe or Milan, only the furtive yet lingering glances they keep shooting at each other when they think the other is not looking the sign of this being more than just a friendly hangout.

“Any plans for the Eenvoud sequel?” They’re crossing the street when Sander asks the question, tongue in cheek, which makes Robbe scowl in disdain. Even though internally he’s pleased Sander went and looked him up online. He was less pleased with the teasing that ensued a few days ago.

Sander: I had no idea

Robbe: ?

Sander: That I'm going on a date with a star

Robbe: 😂 what

Sander: Music star 😏

Sander: Or should I say

Sander: Dance star 🤔

Robbe: Oh fuck

Sander: You're v e r y talented Robbe IJzermans

Robbe: Shut uuuuuup

Sander: 😂

Robbe: You weren't supposed to see that 😭

Sander: Why not? You're so cute in it 😌

Robbe: 🙈

Robbe: Please don't hold it against me

Sander: Never :)

Robbe: You're gonna hold it against me aren’t u

Sander: A bit :D

Robbe: 🥺

Sander: But in a loving way!

Robbe: Guess I have to now go and find blackmail material on your channel 😌

Sander: As if you hadn't already 😏

Omg you're so full of yourself 🙄

Sander: 😛

Robbe: Should I be expecting hoards of fans throwing themselves at you when we're out?

Sander: Haha no

Sander: Maybe a few ;)

Robbe: Great, now I'm even more nervous :(

Sander: Why are you nervous? 🥺

Sander: Are you nervous about our date?

Robbe: Well um

Robbe: A bit?

Sander: I'm nervous too

Sander: But that's because I wanted to go out with you since I saw you on campus the first day

Robbe: I wanted that too

Sander: Oh 😌

Robbe: Yeah :)

“Fuck off,” he barks out a laugh, shoving him without much force once they’re back on the sidewalk. Sander pretends to be offended with the attack, huffing and shaking his head, but then bumps him with his hip all the same, smug when Robbe splutters in indignance in turn.

“Keep this up and I’m gonna rethink my forgiveness.” Robbe’s tone is lofty, even if his eyes scream he’s just teasing, an attempt to rile Sander up.

The boy’s eyes widen comically, hand flying to his chest. “You wouldn’t do that to me, Robin.”

There’s that nickname again, making his breath catch again, and the only response he can manage now is a flirty smile, or at least something that is supposed to look like it.

The afternoon heat subsides on their way to Sander’s mysterious place, but Robbe’s still glad he left that green long-sleeved shirt at home when they slow down and Sander turns to him with an expectant look.

“Carnival?”

“I didn’t remember you giving me your number, but I did remember your preaching about cotton candy being the superior junk food,” Sander rushes with an explanation like he feels his choice needs a proper justification. “And it just so happened that a carnival came to Antwerp this weekend. I thought it was a sign?” He scratches his nose, his stance a little unsure as he awaits Robbe’s reaction.

His eyes grow bigger with each passing second until Robbe beams at him and tells him how much he likes the idea. Sander lets out a loud phew, face relieved when they enter the area. The place is packed, but that’s okay because Robbe loves the vibe and how close Sander keeps walking next to him because of it. The loud music is not the best for talking, but they soon find other things to do, marching from booth to booth, getting drinks and trying out silly games, the teasing competitiveness quickly coming out. Sander really wants to win a plushie for him, but he fails spectacularly, his sulking remedied only by a kiss on his cheek.

Robbe eats his weight in cotton candy, childlike joy on his face while Sander watches amused and keeps calling him cute. The Ferris Wheel was supposed to be their next stop, but when it turns out it's out of service, Sander shoots him a desperate look, apologizing for this lame outcome like it's his fault. But Robbe is having so much fun he barely cares they lost their chance at a kiss on the top, knows the night's still young and they'll get their chance somewhere else.

They try out a few other things, laughing and having a great time together before Sander gets weirdly quiet.

"Do you, um, do you think we can go sit down for a bit? To talk?" Sander keeps avoiding his eyes as he asks, but Robbe doesn't miss the flicker of vulnerability in his face, and he feels his heart jump in his chest. He's a bit taken aback at this gear change, but Sander's clearly bothered with something and he wants to be there for him so he just hums and follows him to the bench outside.

"There's something you need to know."

Robbe steals himself for the worst, muscles tensing as he holds his breath.

“I’m bipolar,” Sander finally blurts out, and Robbe’s heart breaks for the insecurity in his eyes, eyes that are now darting all over his own face, trying to be furtive, yet clearly assessing his reaction. “I just-, I want to be straight with you from the get go cause I feel like this may be going somewhere and I don’t want to lie, or, omit anything.” He pauses, frowning a little as he looks down, and something awfully similar to a broken heart shadows his features. “I don’t ever want to keep it a secret anymore.”

Robbe doesn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue, but Sander misinterprets the silence.

“It’s, um, it’s okay if you don’t wanna get involved with me now or something, I get it, I’m a lot to handle.” Scratching his head awkwardly, his lips morph into a wistful smile, and Robbe knows he needs to put a stop to these thoughts.

“Hey,” he starts softly, waiting until Sander’s ready to direct his eyes back on him. When he does, he shoots a smile at him of his own, but there’s nothing wistful about it. If it matches what he feels, Robbe’s quite sure it’s close to adoration, actually. “Thank you for telling me.” Sander takes a deep breath, sitting straight as if he’s preparing for a rejection. “My mom has schizophrenia, you know?”

Green eyes blink up at him. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Robbe lets his smile widen. “And she’s an amazing mom. She just-, struggles sometimes, and there are days that are really shit days. But I can’t imagine her not being here. Because she’s amazing. And I love her. With or without a mental illness.” He presses his thigh against Sander’s, trying to ease his nervousness as he continues. “I still want to give us a shot. Cause, um, I think that, um, well, you’re really hot, I mean cool, I meant cool, well...” Why does he have to be so awkward? He peaks at Sander after his unfortunate little slip and feels his cheeks flush under his small grin.

“You think I’m hot?”

Robbe whines in protest because now Sander’s just being a little shit, torturing him even though he knows exactly what his stammering means.

He hides his face in his hands. “Obviously, since I’m on a date with you, smartass.”

“It’s always nice to hear.” Sander nudges their shoulders and it makes Robbe look up, just in time for a wink. “Especially from a cutie like you.” He holds his gaze, a small smile playing on his lips, and as Robbe gets drowned in his green eyes, distracted, Sander lifts his hand to push a few locks away from his forehead. The brief contact of his fingertips with Robbe’s skin is enough to raise goosebumps on his skin, and he really hopes Sander didn’t notice, that he doesn’t know how gone he is for him already.

He already mourns the lack of contact when Sander pulls away, something akin to shyness on his face now as he’s fiddling with his fingers, and it’s comforting to see he’s not the only one around here being affected.

It’s what gives him the guts to do what he does next, without second-guessing himself again into a spiral. He gets up off the bench and takes Sander’s hand in his own, their fingers tangling right away like it’s their second nature, and nods in the direction of the sidewalk.

“Come on, I’ll show you my favorite spot around here.”

The initial surprise at Robbe’s bold move is quickly replaced with a beaming smile as Sander squeezes his hand gently and gets up too, laughing when Robbe bumps their shoulders teasingly because hey, he’s still a teenage boy and sometimes likes to act like it. Also, he needs to do something to distract himself from the fact that he’s holding Sander’s hand. The fact he can feel a thumb softly grazing his knuckles, almost absent-mindedly, does not help. He'd think their playfulness and cheek kisses would make it all easier for him, and yet here he is.

He’s feeling carefree and drunk on his feelings and this evening and Sander’s smile and when they get close to the spot, Robbe sets his hand free and jogs over to the small ice cream booth, turning around to do a small “taa-daa!” with a big grin. Sander’s laugh at his shenanigans is music to his ears and he loves how the previous frown is now officially gone from his face, features softening instead, eyes twinkling as he calls Robbe a dork, entwining their hands anew the second he’s in his close proximity. Robbe scoots even closer, like an invisible magnet is pulling them together, getting lost in his presence, the smell of his aftershave that carries notes of citrus and something woodsy, masculine, combined with the intoxicating scent of Sander’s leather jacket. The air changes around them, gets charged with tension, Sander’s face changes too, green eyes darting to Robbe’s lips that get dry under attention, and he licks them subconsciously. Just when Tiana Major9’s voice coming from the booth speaker sings when they collide, it’s a beautiful disaster, their faces tilt towards each other, Sander’s hand reaching up as if to cup Robbe’s cheek.

Robbe barely contains his whine when a loud crash from the booth ruins the moment, catching the same frustration on Sander’s face in the corner of his eye. The loaded silence is buzzing in his ears, nerves picking up and he feels awkward again, not sure whether he should just go for it or wait for a better moment.

Sander’s chuckle brings him back from his overthinking, smiles crookedly down at him. “Come on, you gotta tell me your favorite flavor.”

His tone is light like the almost-kiss didn’t happen, but the subtle pink at the high of his cheeks gives him away. It looks like the world’s most exquisite blush, blended perfectly with the shade of his skin that has already been painted light golden with the early summer sun rays. It distracts him for a moment, his gaze stuck as his eyes wander slowly from one mole to another, lingering on his lips that are just as inviting as they were a few seconds ago, tempting Robbe to make that move, but then he feels Sander taking his hand again, this time interlacing their fingers and pulling him out of his trance.

Robbe is a vanilla guy and he can see the joke at the hip of Sander’s tongue, but thankfully, the boy refrains from the comment, the huge eyeroll he receives probably stopping him in his tracks, and he only gnaws on his lip, trying to keep the laughter in. He goes for mango, which yuck. Sander doesn’t appreciate his reaction, and they easily slip in the previous banter, ending with him smearing a bit of the ice cream on Robbe’s cheek, lips sucked in as he giggles quietly at his scandalized face.

“You’re such a fucker!” He immediately gets him back for that and they’re close to full on ice cream fight until Sander yells truce, hands protecting his face from the onslaught of Robbe’s sticky hands. Robbe smiles triumphantly at his capitulation, and goes back to licking away at what’s left of his treat.

“It kinda fits you.”

They’ve been strolling along the river for a while now, the full moon shining its light on the side of Sander’s face, making his hair look icy white.

“What?

“The mango flavor.”

Sander furrows his brows in question, waiting for an explanation. Robbe shrugs a little, eyes tracing the soft ripples on the water as he tries to find the right words.

“Mangos have a hard peel, but have a soft inside.”

“Sooo, you’re saying I’m… mushy?” Sander wrinkles his nose at his words and it’s a truly adorable sight.

“No, I’m saying you can seem, um, intimidating and unapproachable, unattainable.” His eyebrows furrow more with each adjective. “But once you get to the inside, so once someone gets to know you, you’re none of these things,” Robbe pauses, swaying their joined hands a little as he peeks at Sander’s face. “You’re nice and sweet and stuff. Even with your edgy black and white aesthetics,” he adds as the second-thought, grinning when he gets a deadpan look in return. It quickly morphs into something softer, beautifully confirming Robbe’s words.

“Okay, let’s say I’m a mango man. In that case, you’re a cutie pie,” Sander says matter-of-factly, always needing to have the last word, and Robbe can only laugh helplessly, trying not to combust under his intense glance. “Also, my black and white aesthetics are amazing, by the way.”

Robbe doesn't dare to argue with that, and he also agrees with the statement so he admits as much, making Sander very pleased.

They walk way into late hours of the evening, huddling closer together with each passing hour in search of warmth against the coldness of the night, or at least that serves as the main excuse. Sander has him bursting in fits of giggles sharing crazy stories from his shopping assistant job and Robbe finds himself opening up about his videotaping passion, a little shy when knowing about Sander's photography skills, but the boy's eyes shine bright when Robbe mentions it, and he's so attentive and interested in everything he has to say on the topic, of the small details he geeks out about that it makes fuzzy feelings swim rampant in his stomach; it's the kind of attention he's been unknowingly yearning for, and here it is, served on a golden plate and in a package so beautiful it makes him swoon.

And he also walks him home, acting all gentlemanly and offering his jacket when the shivers shake Robbe's body a bit. What a catch.

“So, um,” Sander starts as they reach the front door of Robbe’s apartment building, his face mostly covered in shadows cast by the street lanterns. “Kiss or slap?”

The answer to the question is obvious for both of them, but Robbe can’t stop himself from teasing him a bit, scrunching up his face in a deep thought, eyebrows frowned, making Sander scoff impatiently, which is exactly the reaction he was hoping for.

Still, he needs to push him a bit more. “Hmm, I’m not sure. I should probably go with the slap for that ice cream incident.” Sander plays along, heaving a regretful sigh, before turning those pretty eyes on him, lips in a pout and hands put together in a praying motion.

“A kiss?” Bottom lip juts out and he’s just too cute for words, Robbe dropping his facade immediately, not stopping his beaming smile anymore.

He also can't fucking wait any longer.

“Okay, I gue-”

Soft lips crash into his, not letting him finish the sentence, Robbe’s clumsiness almost making him topple over, but Sander’s there to catch him, sure hands squeezing his hips and sending small shocks through his body. He rests his hand on the back of Sander’s neck, giving in to the need to bury his fingers in that messy blond hair, and he tugs, just a little, but it’s enough for Sander to sigh into his mouth and pull him closer. Robbe loves the reaction, whimpers quietly as he parts his lips just right for Sander’s tongue to slip inside, to tease at the soft skin inside of Robbe’s bottom lip. It’s all over after that, the kiss morphing from something soft and sweet to tongues sliding together, teeth clinking almost painfully in their desperation, the kiss tasting of mango ice cream and cotton candy, and it’s the best Robbe has ever tasted.

It’s better than he imagined, Sander’s hands caressing his sides as he slows down the kiss so sweet and tender, it pulls at every single one of his heartstrings. He can’t believe he has this wonder of a boy in his arms, kissing him so good, making him dizzy.

The kiss stops eventually, but they stay put, as close as before, the tips of their noses grazing against each other, warm breaths and fluttering lashes, fingernails scratching at the skin that’s covered in goosebumps.

“I have to go,” Robbe murmurs between the miniscule space between them, giggling quietly at the immediate frown his words cause.

“Nooooo.” Sander hides his face in his flushed neck, pressing a kiss there too because why not. “I need more kisses.”

And who is Robbe to tell him no, he goes willingly when Sander lifts his chin up for another one, his mouth a little puffy now. He lets him have it, not that it’s any hardship; he’d stay here all night, just lazily sliding their lips together in a never ending dance.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Sander asks when they break apart. “I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You know, he’s very important to me, has been in my life for years so his opinion kinda matters a lot.”

His words take Robbe aback, but he tries not to show his discomfort, even though Sander must have felt how tense his body went. He doesn’t seem to find it weird, his face still smiling as he keeps talking about this he that’s apparently so important.

“I hope he’ll like you. He’s perfect, you know?” Actually, Robbe does not know and he’s getting kinda annoyed. He’s pretty sure waxing lyrical about someone else on a date is a faux pas. “I mean, except for leaving fur on anything he touches.”

What.

Robbe’s eyes swivel up to look at him, the corners of Sander’s lips twitching and his face a picture perfect of impishness. He groans in protest, smacking his chest because Sander did it on purpose to pull a reaction out of him and it’s not fair, damn it. He crosses his arms which proves difficult to do when there are still hands firmly holding his hips, keeping him close.

Sander rests their forehead together, swaying them a little to put a smile on Robbe’s grumpy face. “He’s a Norwegian Forest breed and his name is Major Tom.”

And this time it’s Robbe who has a hard time to keep his giggle in because oh my god, what a nerd.

“I wonder where that came from,” he ponders in a voice as serious as he can manage, but Sander sees right through him, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“It’s the bestest name ever, I’ll have you know.”

He gets shut up with another kiss, last one, the sweetest out of all of them. Then, Robbe steps out of his embrace, not trusting himself to end this when Sander's hands are touching any part of his body, and tells him a quiet goodnight, backing into the front door with Sander's soft sleep well ringing in his ears and a huge smile threatening to spread on his face.

Sander: May your dreams be filled with cotton candy 🍬🍭

It only takes a minute for his phone to ping.

And maybe some mangos too 🥭

Robbe: Just need one 😘

White-haired mangos 😘

Goodnight ❤️

#wtfock #my fics #sobbe

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remcycl333 · 3 years

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progress update (?)

hiii!! so i was debating whether or not to make this post for multiple reasons, but in the end i decided i would because i remembered that when i started this blog, i said i was gonna use it to document my law of assumption/manifestation journey, and this definitely counts as that.

i have been seeing a ton of progress in my journey, especially in the month and a half since i’ve created this blog. i feel like i’ve really started to see consistent results and my mindset has been a lot better. that being said, i’ve had kind of a rough past few days.

over the last year i’ve manifested contact with my sp numerous times, yet every time we get into contact, it lasts for three days. every time. exactly three days. even if things were looking good, suddenly at the last second on the third day he would stop responding to me. it was so weird. which, obviously, i noticed this pattern and began manifesting it. i’d reach the third day and be like, oh no! its the third day, something is gonna happen and he’s gonna go ghost!!

well, i finally broke out of this cycle, and my sp and i were in pretty much constant contact for a week and a half! i was so happy, but then suddenly he stopped responding. which, i know these are just my old beliefs rearing their ugly heads, and i allowed myself to slack off a little bit and worry about how long it was taking for my sp to respond.

i know that all i have to do right now is persist, and i have been. but i have noticed it has been coming from a place of desperation, and i’ve been trying to force things to happen. which is bad. i know i wont see results this way, but i’ve just been kinda down.

it has been nearing the end of june, which is fine, but i had this idea in my head that my sp and i were gonna spend the summer together. which, obviously there’s still over two months of summer left, but i’ve always--since i was literally a pre-teen--started stressing about summer ending soon at the end of june. it’s literally dumb, but it’s just how i’ve always felt. add onto this the fact that i’ve been soooo bored with nothing to do all day (especially since my sister just moved out), which has been making me really notice that my sp and i aren’t together in the 3D.

not only that, but i also felt so close this time. so close i could actually taste it. my sp and i were in constant contact, we had fun conversations and he’d even flirt with me, and i was ready for him to ask me on a date and/or confess his undying love for me at any second. but, he didn’t. instead he stopped responding to me, lol.

so those two things mixed together really kinda bummed me out. but it’s been two or three days of that, and enough is enough!! i have seen so much progress!! this is clearly working!! my desire is going to show up fully in my 3D any second now. now that i’ve written this out, i’m gonna stop affirming the old story that he stopped responding and that we’re not together. he’s just been busy, he’ll get back to me as soon as he can (emphasis on the soon).

all of this being said, there is something new i want to try out. we are all familiar with the concept of living in the end, i’m sure. well every time i do this, i’ve done it by pretending we’re gonna hang out the next day, or that he texted me and i have to respond, etc etc. but i realized, u know what? when i’m feeling bored, i’m gonna remind myself that im not. from now on, my sp is gonna be in every room with me, sitting next to me, keeping me company, being my boyfriend. it is done, and the proof is that he is literally in the same room as me, mere feet away.

guys. it is done. im so close. i will be giving u my full success story any day now. i am not giving up. im not letting some weird, undesirable circumstance trip me up. it is done. it is done. it is done.

#manifestation #manifest #manifesting advice #manifesting tips #manifesting #neville goddard #law of assumption #law of attraction #loa

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ablednt · 4 years

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The Oof Side of having RSD

Long post I know but this stuff is important cause sometimes being ND and mentally ill cam be ugly and hard too and that needs to be talked about too.

Most of this I think is more prevalent in people who don't know they're ND so if anyone is relating to this even if NT then you're fully encouraged to reblog

Fixating on individual people as the Valid Person in your life. They are the Authority. You Have to please THIS one person at any time. You probably won't realize that you're idolizing them cause normally it's a friend or mutual so you think oh it's just that they're so much cooler than me. You start to try and find excuses to talk to them more because you Just. Need to talk to them (about anything! You just need to be in their presence!) for reasons you don't really understand yourself. This causes you to become hyperaware of their behavior and words so you can fine tune yourself to fit this persons standards for a good person. (This, as far as I know, can also be a bpd experience but I don't have bpd so I don't know where the overlap ends) This can also be multiple people but usually it boils down to one or two people. You start to base your self worth on their mannerisms and ability to validate you and so you feel bad talking to them now but you keep doing it til they eventually can't cope with it and leave and you don't know what to do from there and you feel sick and betrayed somehow.

Lashing out at others to "get back at them" for perceived rejection. This is a sentiment I think ties into how passive aggression is glorified in our current society and seen as really cool or whatever. Anyway I'm talking about (as an example from my intrusive thoughts recently I ignored) stuff like "No one responded to me on my discord so I'm deleting this channel/the message" and shit like that. It's like. Instead of self care you think you will feel better or be standing up for yourself if you do something to "punish" whoever made you upset. Not only is this a bad mindset to have in general but a lot of the time people haven't done anything seriously wrong but rsd is making you feel like shit so you think it must be their fault cause it's not like you know you have rsd.

Feeling like you always have to be on the defense or offense. Now this one is a bit tricky cause on one hand, personally, when people have accused me of this they were also incredibly toxic and attempting to shut me up entirely but on the other I have gotten into these unhealthy behaviors before so try and think individual situations through thoroughly to try and examine whether or not your reactions were reasonable given the context and your current state of being. But with this kinda stuff I'm talking about when you think someone might be mad at you over a disagreement or some other reason and you feel the urge to make yourself pityable to avoid any perceived rejection (as an example from my past "Sorry if that was argumentative, my dad always made every thing into a debate and I don't know how to act normally"). Or to lash out by going on the offense. Normally this isn't an intentional behavior it's instinctual because those are two survival responses to feeling like you're about to be hurt. The problem comes in when you have rsd because perceived rejection is everywhere so you will constantly be in that flight or fight mindset unless you learn to keep these reactions in check.

Self depreciation. This one ties into the last one in that it's a type of survival response. If you beat anyone to demeaning yourself then maybe they'll accept you. This is also something that's glorified currently as it's seen as funny and cool. While it's good to recognize imperfections and embrace them I'm talking about mindsets of "lol I'm trash! I'm ugly lmao! I'm a bitch ik lmao" and for unknowingly hyperverbal or adhd folks it tends to be "I know I talk too much when will I shut up lmao" and varients. Basically, its a mindset of "well everyone wants to hurt me, if I want to hurt myself then we have something in common, everyone's happy." That's a subconscious mindset but it leads to toxic friendships (sometimes on both sides sometimes just on the other persons) and a lot of hurt in the long run for others too but especially for you.

What all of these behaviors boil down to is this: When you're ND and/or mentally ill you grow up feeling less than everyone else, feeling broken and undesirable. That's no way to live so to survive your brain starts looking for validation anywhere and everywhere with all the desperation of looking for water in the middle of a desert. But the problem is that the wounds from this stuff are now so deep and fundemental to your development that while support can and will help you, you first have to work on unlearning the ableism and self hate. The only person who you're really trying to prove anything to is yourself.

When I was 17 a friend expressed that I might be autistic and around the same time I learned about my ADHD and I had been exhibiting all these behaviors. I felt relieved because I was realizing that these things were survival instincts, that I wasn't simply a failure or unable to hold relationships. I absolutely hated myself that time of my life and I have had my ups and downs since then but because I knew now it was a result of being marginalized and not my own worth I began to work on self love and now these behaviors are just intrusive thoughts I deal with normally.

It CAN get better, you aren't undeserving of healing or forgiveness, and you deserve to be able to look back one day and realize that you love yourself and You're imperfect and messy but you at least feel in control of yourself. Leaving that fight and flight mode and learning to regulate your emotions is hard but it's one of the most freeing things I've experienced thus far in my life.

Anyway that was long sorry but hopefully it's helpful and if anyone needs help or wants to talk my inbox is always open <3

#rejection sensitivity #rejection sensitive dysphoria #adhd #actuallyautistic #actuallyadhd #actually autistic #actually adhd #actually anxious #anxiety #depression #(if you reblog please tag anything you feel is relevant)#long post

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bespectacled-panda · 3 years

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after seeing dumpywoof’s post I was inspired to do a tier list of my own!!! and boy howdy do I have some hot takes of the century it turns out,,,

the seasons are more or less organized in descending order within the same row as well (e.g. MC 4 > MC 5). also, shamefully copying dumpywoof & putting a detailed & overly verbose explanation for each season:

S Tier

Terraria 3: For me, absolutely nothing compares to Terraria 3. No other season combines such perfect participant dynamics with such heart-wrenching drama—not to mention the existence of Team New Kids who make me cry on a daily basis, or the incredible fake twist ending. It would be a sin to put this season anywhere but alone at the very top. Also props for being the only (1 of 2) post-show that actually includes all of the cast.

A Tier

Minecraft 4: This is the best season for shenanigans alone, hands-down. It’s largely just the participants shooting the shit together, especially in the latter half of the season when it gets down to just the four of them. & I have a huge soft spot for men being wholesomely foolish together I suppose, so here it goes fhdhfhd.

Minecraft 5: To be honest, I have not seen this season since it released, which is a crime, I know, I’m sorry :orb: But I remember it being very very good, & I cannot imagine my taste will have changed that dramatically in just a few years, so. in truth, this one might be actually better than MC 4, but as I have not seen it in many years I can’t say that for certain. Either way, though, it’s definitely one of the best seasons out there.

MineZ 1: To me, MineZ 1 is the reverse of MC 4: low on shenanigans & high on drama. It’s pre-Todd era, but the editing in this one is honestly Todd-level, I would say. It’s so incredibly tense, especially the scene with McJones & PBG trying to escape the caves, and I feel like the sheer stress of it all brought out a new side of a lot of the participants, most notably Dean—who sounded genuinely agonized at times. A very very quality season all around, IMO.

Terraria 2: This season probably objectively deserves to be B tier, but I am it giving A tier for personal bias. I just,,, love the dynamics okay. Jeff & McJones especially made for a killer duo. It was a rare instance of McJones being the funny man himself rather than being the straight man to someone else’s funny man; he was super uncharacteristically goofy & almost borderline flirtatious at times, it really made for some good moments fhdhfjd. Plus then you got McJones solo commentary at the end which I greatly enjoyed. Just,, a very enjoyable season, very mid-HC era, very light & easy to watch, all that good stuff.

Diablo II: Man,,,,this absolutely 100% does not deserve A tier, I know, I’m sorry, but I just can’t bring myself to put it lower. I have A tier love for it :orb: Admittedly, the game is horrendously ugly and confusing to watch, but the shenanigans + the cast dynamics win me over in the end. Paul especially was great in this, & I hope he makes a return someday. Loving fathers Paul & Jirard with their sorceress son McJones making their way through the end-game just cannot be beaten. (Anti-shoutouts to Ross though, I don’t know anything about him, I am sure he is a lovely man, but GOD. WHY DID HE KEEP RUNNING OFF ON HIS OWN & GETTING LOST BUT THEN FORCEFULLY REFUSING HELP,,, ROSS YOU ARE THE WORST DHDHFJDJD)

B Tier

Minecraft 7: Boy,,, this is going to be a controversial take fhhfjdjf. I just don’t know how to explain it, but something about MC7 felt,,,, Very off. I don’t know what it was, just something about the season seemed very,,, almost like you could tell things were falling apart behind the scenes, & they were trying to pull it back together but weren’t quite succeeding. It’s not a bad season in any regards, of course, I just,, don’t enjoy it nearly as much as a lot of others,, it’s missing that crucial spark of life in my opinion,, also Dean leaving to go to work was kind of strange,, I get it, it’s probably difficult to work around his real-life job,, but it felt strange,, he got like temporary immunity. Nothing like that had ever happened before I don’t think. And also they never even explained why Dean wasn’t there for like three episodes fjdjfjhd,,

Minecraft 3: God I feel like I just keep digging myself into a deeper & deeper hole here fhsjfjd,,, but man, I did like MC3 to be honest. It wasn’t the best season, it kind of went nowhere, but I liked the cast & there was a lot of good funnymoments. Smooth & Shane were very good guests who I feel like really rounded out the season, & Jontron did not come off as terribly overbearing as I believe that he has in other seasons. Overall, pretty decent, I’d say.

C Tier

Minecraft 2: MC 2 & MC 3 are very similar, but I think MC 2 is slightly worse, both in terms of entertainment & cast. NCS & Kyrak did not hit like Smooth & Shane did,,, and I feel like just everything that happened in this one was fairly forgettable. I was torn as to whether this should be a B or a C, but I put it here in the end just to drive home that I really don’t like it as much as MC 3, I don’t believe.

Minecraft 6: Oh lord, this is a nuclear take fhdjfjd. Again, this isn’t a bad season at all, it has its good moments, especially Chad & Dodger, they are angels & I love them & want them back. But boy,,, just. Many things went wrong here. None of the twists panned out like,, at all, which I know isn’t necessarily anyone’s fault, the concept of this twist & of twists in general is very good. But it fell so flat here, especially with the revival. There was,, no debate at all about what to do. They hyped it up like they had this big decision to make, but then nobody made any effort to dramatize it at all. It was basically just Dean deciding by himself and everyone just sitting back & letting him. For the record, I have no qualms with the fact that Dodger was revived, I fully agree that she deserved it over McJones, but it was not played well at all IMO,,, I do have to admit, though, with a fair amount of sheepishness, that the thing that most sullies this season for me is McJones’s death. Just,,, his horrible, so so avoidable, insanely early death, coupled with his retirement shortly thereafter & him becoming so jaded with hc that he expressed borderline hostility & hatred towards it just,,, hurts. I kinda don’t wanna see the events of MC 6 now knowing the aftermath. I understand fully that this particular point is not something most people care about to say the least dhfhdjd, but,,, in all honesty, I really don’t have any desire to rewatch this one, as objectively good as it might be. It was a win but it felt like a loss, if that makes sense. Also the post-show lacked all three people I actually wanted to hear from fhdjfjd neither the two people who could’ve been revived nor the actual person who did the reviving were there to share their insight & perspectives on it :pensive:

D Tier

Starbound: man,,, starbound. This is a very mixed bag for me. On one hand, I disagree with people who say that it was boring or that nothing happened, I found it very tense, Todd’s editing had me on edge throughout every episode. But on the other hand,,, man. Very few memorable moments, what even happened in this one,, also I feel like the game mechanics/plot weren’t explained very well, I feel like I remember being vaguely confused all the time as to what was happening. Probably will not ever rewatch either.

Have Not Seen

DayZ: I will not ever be watching this season both because I do not know anything about DayZ & because from what I’ve heard it was an absolute disaster, I’m just not interested in getting involved in that fhdhfjdk

Terraria 1: There’s not really a reason I haven’t watched this one. Just,, I haven’t made my way down to the earliest seasons yet. Although as mentioned before, I have seen a few clips of this season, & Jontron seems to be pretty obnoxious in this one, so I don’t how much I’ll enjoy the parts with him in it, but I definitely do want to watch it someday.

Minecraft 1: The same as Terraria 1, I just happen to not have seen this one by chance. But unlike T1, I am much more looking forward to actually watching it, it seems really good, I want to experience that legendary very first season at last dhdhfjd

MineZ 2: Man,,, many things about the behind-the-scenes of this season make me sort of uncomfortable honestly. Just,,, the visceral second-hand shame & embarrassment of someone in the hc fandom being so rude & bothersome to the cast,, somehow it makes me feel personally responsible even though I didn’t do anything fhdjfj,,, Also,, once again continuing with the trend of me being saddened by McJones expressing dislike for seasons fhdjfjd,, I do recall him saying, regarding this season, something like “I think it would’ve been better if we just never did this,” which,,, ow. That doesn’t make me particularly enthused to watch it fhdjfjd. I probably will end up watching this season someday to be honest, but I’m not looking forward to feeling the cast’s frustration & unhappiness with the situation,, (EDIT: I want to be clear that there is no actual drama surrounding minez 2!!! it is a perfectly fine season, there is nothing wrong with it, it just happens that I personally am bothered by the fact that there was a lot of like,,, frustration coming from the participants regarding the player who was stalking them. this in no way means that minez 2 is an objectively bad or problematic season!! if minez 2 is your favorite season I completely respect you, there is nothing wrong with that!! there is a lot to like about the season as a whole!!! I just personally care too much about mcjones having a bad time in seasons bc it’s what ultimately led to his retirement, & that makes me sad fjdhfjdjd. but it has come to my attention that my wording made it sound like there was drama about minez 2, which there never actually was, I am very very sorry for my unintentional yet poor choice of words.)

#私がポストしたもの #about time I have a 'my own posts' tag #I hardly make them but they do exist from time to time #also god. good lord this is so long.#get me talking about pbg hc & I just won't ever stop fhdhfhdh #shoutouts to anyone who actually reads this #also again. this is by no means my opinions on objective season quality. fhshfjdj #this is just my opinions on how much I personally like & would rewatch each season

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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I really encourage people who have legitimate gripes with something I say or express on here to like.....either just DM, @ me directly or if you’re going to pop into my inbox to debate something with me, like, do so off anon, even if you ask that I don’t publish your ask and just respond to you in private. I always abide by that if people ask me to do that, and I’m 10000x more likely to treat your complaint or disagreement with dignity even if I completely disagree with it, than like....if you go on anon with it.

Because dunno if you’ve noticed, lol, but there’s kinda a tendency with people who pick fights with me on anon or who @ me in general with some form of “LOL I can’t believe you’re so dumb as to believe this thing [that you don’t actually believe or else is not at all actually what I’m framing it as being],” to like.....only really do so in an attempt to trip me up, expose me as a hypocrite or pull some kind of ‘Gotcha!’ So, realistically, it just is not possible for me to give most anons who disagree with me the benefit of the doubt or for me to assume they’re at least coming from a place of actual honest disagreement rather than just....playing games, which I fucking despise and I refuse to respond to with respect.

I sound ridiculous in nine out of ten of my over the top responses to people giving me shit, because of...deliberate intent on my part. *Shrugs* Because I personally consider it to be extremely ridiculous, how often I have people trying to poke holes in things I say, by.....poking at stuff I never even say, lol.

I don’t actually always believe I’m right about everything, but I fully understand how my tone can convey that I do think that in a lot of these back-and-forths, because.....the one thing I do pretty much always think I’m right about is what it is I’m actually saying or believe. And thus, I really do not care for people trying to tell me I said otherwise, when I have a looooot of proof to point to how even when I’m being like, King Ridiculous in how I say or phrase something....nobody ever seems to have trouble comprehending my points on pretty much any topic across the board......until it happens to be a point I make on a matter they take issue with.

So just a general PSA, do with it what you will, but like. I’m just saying:

I know I’m contentious, and I don’t actually want people to just automatically 100% take everything I say as fact or just never disagree with me, since that’s like....the polar opposite of pretty much my entire belief system or view of life and how to go through it lol.

Buuuuut it honestly is exhausting constantly being hit up by people in bad faith, and who prove over and over again that they are perfectly comfortable saying or doing anything with no loyalty to even their own arguments, as long as it nets them a ‘win’ in arguing with me for the sake of arguing or whatever the fuck their motivation might be, I honestly do not care, lol. And I’m just......long past assuming that someone who is approaching me on anon to argue or contest something I’ve said or a position I’ve taken, is doing so in good faith instead of just as part of a twelve step plan wherein they disingenuously go about trying to lay some kind of convoluted ‘trap’ to lure me into. As though any of this is worth that fucking effort in the first place. LOL.

So by all means, disagree with me, contest me, put the screws to something I say and force me to defend my point further.....but like.....just be fucking honest about it. Or be willing to put your URL/name to it when doing so, even if you ask that I keep it out of public view, so that at least I know you’re not one of my half a dozen hate-following Regulars who habitually pop up on anon pretending to be someone brand new until three messages later when they’re like “Surprise! You thought I was just some rando, but here I am with the same receipts I’ve been claiming to have for the past half a decade!” (Oh no, much shock, mortification, oh unknowable plot twist, who could have ever seen that coming). LOL, y’know what I mean? Like, if you’re off anon or if you at least @ me with something approaching at least SOME modicum of respect, I’m soooooo much more likely to not just dismiss anything and everything you say from the word go, just because the sheer novelty of that approach is gonna be more engaging to me than, like, Me Vs Some Rando Whose Opening Gambit Is “Well Actually.....*proceeds to argue against points several galactic light years north of anything I’ve ever actually said ever*”: Round Fifty Two Bajillion.

Like yeah, I’m rude as fuck in a lot of the arguments I get into on here, because I’m not a big fan of turning the other cheek and also I’m not gonna gloss over the ugly in something someone says just because they couch it in ‘civilized, well-mannered discourse.’ So I’m not at all offering some carte blanche guarantee or a secret password for how to go about saying something vile to my face without me responding by verbally ripping your head off, lol, I just mean like.....you ever have some free time to kill, go back through my archives to my earliest posts on this site. You can literally WATCH the slow expiration of my Give-A-Fucks in real time. I usually position myself to be the Reactive part of an argument on this site deliberately.....I don’t go starting things unless I’m weighing in on something that crosses my dash and already is looking ugly as hell, and for the most part, 90% of the fights I get into on this site are people approaching me to begin it, and y’know.....I don’t owe it to anyone to treat them or their position with more respect than they approach me with. LOL. And also, I don’t owe it to my own reading comprehension or that of anyone else who is similarly not an idiot to treat the ‘faux-respect/politeness’ people are addicted to on here as anything other than rudeness couched in the additional insult of assuming I and others are too stupid to see the subtextual disdain. Like. Nope. Miss me.

Bottom line is just, I’m not looking to be yet one more person giving people who are legitimately questioning things they’ve been told or led to believe, like, reason to be too intimidated or afraid to actually question these things rather than just keep to their personal status quo in an effort to avoid confrontation. But I’m always going to be trying to balance that with being equally not a fan of enabling people who play-act at being too fragile or delicate to face up to their own behavior or the ugliness of their own opinions or stances if its delivered to them in ways that inspire them to cry-type about how like, its not their fault society told them it was okay to shit on entire groups of people as long as they could safely get away with it.

There’s a line there and I’m no tight-rope walker so no, I don’t have all the answers and am not actually trying to pretend I do, and believe it or not, I put a lot of thought and introspection into constantly self-evaluating not just my own stances and beliefs, but the why’s of them, and the how’s of how I go about interacting with others because of them, or talking about them, or anything of the like.

But because I do put a lot of effort into that myself, I am aware of like....there not really being an excuse for others not being similarly willing to do the same with their own behavior, beliefs or approaches to others, so.....meet me halfway, is all this really comes down to. To anyone who genuinely does find themselves at odds with things I say or troubled by viewpoints I espouse or even just flat out confused as to how to reconcile something I brought up with contradictory beliefs they’ve long held or been instilled with and are just trying to figure out which actually sounds more right to them now.

I do not want to be the bogeyman who is just so intimidating that even when he says something that makes you go ‘huh, maybe this thing I thought was wrong, but I’m not sure,’ you’re afraid to follow-up and explore that further in a back-and-forth with me. But I’m similarly disinclined to be used as the strawman/patsy/etc of people who are just interested in trying to manuever me into some conversational position they feel they can use to discredit me in front of their own followers and thus cement their own bullshit position that way.

I just happen to get a lot of the latter, and that kinda plays directly into why I so often end up defaulting to the former. That’s not actually an excuse and so its more than fair for anyone to think that’s no reason to change their mind about me, a thing I’ve said or a way I’ve said it. But if fair is actually a thing you’re interested in, then please consider factoring all of the above in when deciding how or why or in what ways you approach an argument or disagreement with me, if you find yourself inclined to do so in the future.

I would appreciate it, and even more importantly, I promise you it will be far more productive in encouraging me to actually argue or debate a point with you. As opposed to just making light of anything you say to me, much like I feel most approaches to me make light of the things I say, and thus.....my tendency to default to variations of LOL, you got some dumb on your face there buddy.

ANYWAYS.

Thank you for your consideration in this matter,

The Extremely Tired and Over It Management

#sorry to be keeping it so heavy this week guys #but like #it remains heavy and thus I remain....keeping it?#idk its 1 am my brain went on break hours ago and I think maybe its just not coming back at this point #whatever #ANYWAY I do not mean to be boring but am I fed by the energy people direct at me and so much of it lately seems to be boring #and thus boring I in turn seem to be #idk basically that's just my spin on you are what you eat #and thus if you come at me like a walking bag of dicks Im gonna tell you to go eat a bag of dicks #*Shrugs*#my eloquence #it abounds

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celticheartedfangirl · 4 years

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My OUAT Rewatch -- S6E4 -- Strange Case

Link to Rewatch Review and Ranking archive

Okay, there’s A LOT to unpack in this one, but before we do THAT . . . . . it’s time once again for our new favorite game show . . . .

What the Fuck is Emma Wearing??????

Seriously, after S6 Ends the S6 Emma Snarky Fashion Show post is coming . . . . . if you have any snarks on ANY of her S6 wardrobe, you are welcome to send it to me via messenger or message and I will keep it on file until the big event! I don’t think there was ever a full on “Drag Emma’s S6 Wardrobe” in-depth post, and I am here to fill that much-needed gap! Stay tuned!

By the way, sub-category just for this episode . . . . what the fuck is BELLE wearing?????

I usually love Belle’s wardrobe. I’m usually either drooling over how stunning she is or seething with envy that I’m not skinny enough to wear the stuff she wears. And very often I’m doing both.

But THIS ugly-ass thing? WTF is it supposed to be? A dress? A nightgown? A dressy nightgown? A nightie dressgown? It’s ugly, its so bland it washes out her coloring (and the wig she’s wearing in this one, OMG!!!! Hideous!), just -- yech all around. Probably the ugliest thing she’s EVER worn. Not sure what they were going for costume wise here, but EPIC FAIL.

Okay . . . . . . now that that’s out . . . . . here’s the thing, and it might surprise you . . . . . . I didn’t totally HATE this episode. Yup, you read that right. Don’t worry, you’re as surprised as I am, because I expected to come on here ranting and screaming and all like . . . . .

But nope.

I mean . . . . I didn’t LOVE the episode. It’s not one I’ll watch over and over again. But there are WAY worse episodes in this series than this one. I don’t do the tally till after I do the review, and I went in expecting this to be in the negatives, possibly even moving the shitfest that was Smash the Mirror out of the bottom spot. I don’t think it will be in the negatives. We’ll see when I end this, but . . . . . . it wasn’t THAT BAD. And I was aggressively and unapologetically hate watching when this originally aired. Also, David Goodman was one of the writers so of COURSE there’s going to be some shit in here because it’s GOODMAN.

So . . . . . ready to discuss? Yes there WILL be Belle dragging but I will politely do this to the Belle dragging so that those who don’t want to read it can skim on by.

Come on in . . . . . .

BTW, for those reading this at a later date, or those just flat out not in the know . . . . . Bobby filmed the movie Trainspotting 2 during the summer between S5 and S6, and he had to cut his hair and grow out a porn ‘stache. Well he didn’t HAVE to, and actually ABC told him NOT to, but he basically said “Fuck ABC” and did it anyway. So over the summer of 2016 he looked like this:

So yup . . . the past three episodes he was wearing a very bad wig. And there’s a lot of debate on which Rumple is the hottest, and S6 Rumple wins for many. S7 is MY preference, but I’ve grown to appreciate the short hair.

Anyhow . . . . this episode was actually WAY better than I remembered. I mean Belle was a fucking bitch, that hasn’t changed, Hook was being shoehorned into the Rumbelle story, as he’s being shoehorned into EVERY story to see where he can be useful (the answer would be NOWHERE because he’s a fucking useless lamp with no real purpose on this show), and of course the CLASSIC Swan Queen #no homo moment:

Swan Queen: Social Distancing since October 2016!

You know, I didn’t remember this moment being in THIS episode. I honestly thought it was later. But then again, S6 is a blur of me bitching, drinking, and being blocked by the fandom because I called a fictional character a bitch, so what do I know?

Anyhow, this moment . . . . . oh the FUN we had with it!

https://celticheartedfangirl.tumblr.com/post/151930060407/scarimor-the-internet-is-on-the-ball-this

https://celticheartedfangirl.tumblr.com/post/151932134492/swanmills-just-in-case-you-forgot-this

So the Jekyll and Hyde stuff . . . . . was actually not that bad. But honestly kinda anti-climactic? Because they set up Hyde to be a S6 Big Bad and he’s DEAD by Episode FOUR??? But then again A&E have always sucked at follow-through, so is anyone surprised?

Also the lovely Karen David is now on board as Jasmine and I cannot WAIT to see how these hacks will fuck HER story up!

Also LMAO, Snow sucks at teaching!

So back to the Rumple/Belle/Rumbelle shit . . . . . . .

1. I side with Rumple

2. Belle was being an unreasonable dumbass and I wanted to smack the ever living fuck out of her the entire episode

2. What in the actual FUCK is Hook doing there? And a magic seashell, REALLY???? Don’t they both have PHONES????? More Stu propping, ugh. Also he tried to murder Belle FOUR TIMES, please stop with this fuckery!

I had lots of opinion about this episode when it aired, and honestly I only half assed watched it at the time so let’s review my opinion and see if I still agree with them . . . . . . . .

https://celticheartedfangirl.tumblr.com/post/151930433837/for-those-who-didntdont-want-to-watch-a-brief

Okay, I didn’t think Rumple was THAT OOC and the Snow stuff was fun. Other than that -- agree. Next . . . .

https://celticheartedfangirl.tumblr.com/post/151908421027/okay-help-me-out

Yup.

https://celticheartedfangirl.tumblr.com/post/151908871377/fucking-hook-propping

Absolutely agree!

https://celticheartedfangirl.tumblr.com/post/151894995482/emospritelet-onceandfuturekikiouat-i-100

THIS THIS THIS, ALL OF FUCKING THIS!!!!!

So one good thing that this episode gave us were these BTS gifs that a fan filmed of Bobby goofing around on set:

https://celticheartedfangirl.tumblr.com/post/151900061412/just-ustas-lets-go-rumple-he-is-so

But otherwise . . . . . . S6, a summary so far (that will continue):

BTW, on a side note -- Creation released their promo poster for the 2016-2017 OAUAT Convention season -- and this was it:

In case you ever had ANY doubt who was the “most important” character on the show.

Points tally:

40 points to start

10 points for Rumbelle centric ISH

5 points for socially distanced but still more chemistry than with a man Swan Queen

I’m doing 2 points Rumple in character and deducting 2 points for him OOC because I didn’t think he was either but he was both. And that makes no sense but neither does some of this shitty writing

5 points deducted for Hook

10 points deducted for OOC Belle

10 points deducted for Belle and Hook GTFO

10 points deducted for Goodman

10 bonus points for Rumple losing the damn wig

Sorry, gotta dump 25 points for all the Rumbelle bullshit and all the Hook propping bullshit

Total points: 5

Wow, not in negatives! Color me stunned!

Follow #celtichearted OUAT ranking tag for more to come!

#celtichearted ouat ranking #strange case #anti hook #anti ouat writers #belle critical

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lets-talk-appella · 5 years

Text

They’re Us

Chapter 2/5

Summary: When the enemy looks like your friends, how do you know who to trust? For PP Horror Week 2019 - Doppelgangers.

Word Count: 4k

Rating: M for horror themes and some violence.

Chapter 1

AO3 and FFN

Spending time with Jesse post-break up is much more enjoyable than it had been pre-breakup.

Which maybe would have been nice to know earlier.

As soon as it starts raining during her last class of the day, Beca reaches for her phone. She has some vague hope that either Jesse or Stacie or someone can be persuaded to drive to campus and pick her up so she doesn’t have to walk home in the rain. Because of course she doesn’t have an umbrella.

When Beca pulls out her phone, however, she sees a notification from Jesse already waiting for her.

Jesse: U need a ride Becaw?

She twists her mouth, biting at the inside of her left cheek. His timing really is something.

Duh.

After another ten minutes wasted listening to her professor drone on, she’s free, class having ended, and she makes her way out of the building. Outside, she scans for Jesse’s car in the parking lot across the street, staying close to her building to remain relatively sheltered from the rain. After a moment, flashing headlights catch her attention. She crosses the street carefully and half-jogs to get to his car, the rain only becoming more intense by the second.

“Hey nerd,” she greets, swinging herself into the passenger seat and shoving her bag between her feet on the floor. As soon as she closes the car door behind her, the skies open and it starts raining even harder. The sound of the drops splattering against the roof of his car is almost deafening.

Jesse gasps in mock offense, putting a hand to his chest. “Is that any way to talk to your super cool ex-boyfriend who picked you up in the rain?”

She fixes him with the most deadpan expression she can muster.

He stares back, eyes wide and hand still on his chest.

She counts to ten, but neither of them blink.

“Is this gonna be a thing?” she asks blandly.

“Yep. Not gonna stop staring.”

“That’ll make driving pretty hard.”

“Probably.”

She transitions her deadpan expression into her most withering glare.

Jesse still hasn’t blinked or moved as far as she can see. Even she has to admit that’s pretty impressive.

Finally, she sighs and turns away, blinking against the sting of her dry eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so annoying,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever, thanks for the ride. Let’s just go!”

“Sore loser,” Jesse grins boyishly, his pose breaking as he starts the car with one hand, rubbing at his own eyes with the other. He pulls the car out of its spot and Beca buckles her seatbelt.

“How was your day? Good?” Jesse prods, glancing over.

“The usual,” she shrugs. “Arrogant professor, annoying amounts of reading that I’m not gonna do. Oh, some girl asked a really stupid question about—”

“So, uh, do you have to be home super soon?”

Beca frowns at the interruption. “Not really…” she answers slowly. “Why?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe we could grab Chinese or something,” Jesse suggests, momentarily taking his eyes off the road to glance over at her.

Just then, Beca notices that the music is off, which is unusual. Maybe the storm messed with the radio signal or something.

“Oh.” Beca shifts in her seat a little uncomfortably. “I mean, sure, but... like, we haven’t really been doing things like—”

“Not as a date,” Jesse says hurriedly, raising a hand to rub at his eyes again. “I just thought, you know, we’ve hung out since we broke up, but we haven’t really talked about, um, everything, and maybe we—”

“Dude, what’s up with your eyes?”

“Huh?” he looks over at her again, brow furrowed.

“Your eyes. You keep rubbing them,” Beca points out. “Did all that staring dry them out?”

“Oh.” Jesse blinks rapidly and returns his hand to the wheel and his eyes to the road. “No, just, um, some grit or whatever.”

“Oookay,” Beca says slowly, drawing out the vowel. “Can you see to drive? Like, with the rain?”

“Yes, Beca, it’s fine,” Jesse dismisses, voice turning impatient. “It’s supposed to stop soon anyway. Yeah, so, back to earlier, I was thinking we should go get dinner. And maybe talk.”

Beca hesitates. “I… what do you want to talk about? Just... stuff? Anything?”

“No, more like… about us. Don’t you think?” Jesse’s voice is light, but Beca gets the feeling he isn’t really asking. It’s not a feeling she particularly likes.

“Um, there isn’t really an ‘us’ anymore,” she reminds him, watching the side of his face carefully. “And I kinda thought we’d… talked… enough.”

“I mean, it’s kind of a big deal. It changes a lot.”

Beca’s voice lodges in her throat; when they’d broken up two weeks ago, Jesse had seemed to understand. It had been amicable. At least, as amicable as a breakup can be.

Jesse huffs what could be a little laugh. “Come on Beca, you can’t just tell me you’ve figured out you’re gay and then just not talk about it.”

“You said it was fine,” she replies stiffly, glaring out the window without really registering where he’s driving them to.

“Yeah, well, now I think we need to talk about it.”

A hard knot of anger forms deep in Beca’s stomach. “Jesse, I’m gay and I don’t like like you anymore. Done,” she spits defensively, using the most sarcastic tone she can manage.

Jesse rolls his eyes in annoyance.

Beca stares in disbelief. “What else is—so start talking then,” she says, stung.

“No, I mean over dinner,” Jesse insists again.

“Why can’t we just talk now? You’re making this a big deal.”

“Because we should talk over dinner.”

Beca stares out the window, noticing for the first time that he very distinctly did not drive the route that would take her back to the Bella house. “What’re you… Jesse, if this is some weird—what the hell, dude, why are you being so weird about this now?” she asks loudly, becoming more annoyed by the second.

“I’m not being weird, I’m being—”

“Ridiculous?”

“Seriously, Beca?” Jesse explodes, startling her into silence. “You’re gonna turn this on me? That’s typical, you know that? I’m taking you to dinner, and we are going to talk. That’s it.”

Beca swallows. In a much smaller voice than she’d have liked, she manages, “I don’t want to go with you.”

He ignores her completely.

“I mean it Jesse,” she says more loudly. “You’re acting really shitty right now. I thought we were fine. You said we were fine and it’s been working, and now—you can’t just—you know what?” she asks, the volume of her voice rising with every word. “Just take me home. I don’t want—”

“Shut up, Beca,” Jesse cuts her off with a snort of disgust. “You talk too much.”

Beca flinches. He’s never told her to shut up before.

“I… Stop the car,” she says, hating how much her voice quivers.

“No.”

Her eyes flick to the door locks, calculating whether Jesse’s driving too quickly for her to throw herself from the car and into some sort of tuck-and-roll.

“Stop the car,” she repeats.

He doesn’t answer.

Maybe for the first time ever, she notices how much bigger than her he is. How much stronger.

She’s never been scared of Jesse before.

She doesn’t like how it feels.

“Actually,” she tries, “I just remembered I said I’d help Chloe with—”

“You’re lying.” His voice is cold and certain.

“And you’re being a psycho!” The words burst out before she can stop them, and she immediately regrets it.

His expression darkens in a way she’s never seen, his face twisting and turning ugly. His knuckles whiten on the wheel. “Beca—”

“We’re at the restaurant,” she says suddenly, desperately, eyes catching sight of their favorite Chinese place rapidly approaching through the window.

For an instant, she isn’t sure Jesse is actually going to stop; when he does, he slams on the brakes, jerking Beca against her seatbelt and making the car behind them honk and swerve to avoid them. Muttering darkly, Jesse quickly maneuvers the car into a spot, parallel parking more perfectly than Beca has ever seen him do it.

“Get out,” he says, turning the car off.

Beca hesitates, but then realizes that being outside right now might be better than being in a confined space next to him. She unbuckles her seatbelt and fumbles for the door handle, finally pushing the door open and allowing a rush of the cooler air into the suddenly stifling car. The rain has slowed to a gentle shower, just like Jesse said it would.

He’s beside her in a flash—so suddenly that it startles her, because she hadn’t heard him get out of the driver’s side—and holding an umbrella above them both, sheltering them from the drizzle.

Standing on the sidewalk, she debates making a run for it. Even though he’s bigger and taller and therefore probably faster, she’d have surprise and more than three years’ worth of Bella cardio on her side—but then Jesse’s hand secures over her upper arm, gripping just a little too tightly.

He doesn’t say anything, but the message is clear.

Pure fear coils in Beca’s stomach, rolling and frothing until she thinks she’s about to be sick. Her throat closes and her mouth goes dry; she doesn’t even think she could muster a proper scream if she needed to.

Jesse takes a step toward the Chinese restaurant, steering her with ease, forcing her with him. She knows things will only get worse once they’re inside, unless she can slip away to the bathroom and make it out a window or something, but he’d see that coming.

“Jesse, I don’t want—”

“Beca? Jesse?” a familiar voice calls out over the rain.

Relief washes over Beca instantly; Jesse stops and they both look over to see Cynthia Rose and Stacie leaving the nail salon a few store fronts away, taking shelter under Cynthia Rose’s umbrella.

Beca barely takes a moment to wonder at the lucky timing. She’s too busy trying to convey to Stacie and Cynthia Rose that something is wrong.

“He—”

“Hey, you guys,” Jesse speaks over her, his hand sliding down from Beca’s upper arm to instead force his fingers between her own, holding fast to her hand. Stacie’s eyes follow the movement curiously.

Beca tries to shift away from Jesse and toward Cynthia Rose and Stacie, but Jesse only moves with her so that it looks like they’re walking in tandem. Jesse squeezes her hand hard in warning, and another thread of fear runs down Beca’s spine; she can’t let Cynthia Rose or Stacie get hurt.

“What’re you two doing here?” Cynthia Rose asks curiously.

“Just grabbing dinner,” Jesse says airily. “Right, Bec?”

He squeezes her hand again.

“Y-yeah, just some Chinese,” Beca manages, staring intently at Stacie.

A small frown appears between Stacie’s eyebrows. “Oh yeah? It’s nice that you guys are still hanging out.”

“Yep,” Beca says before Jesse can open his mouth. “Just can’t get away from each other.” As she speaks, she deliberately raises her free hand to play with the piercings on her right ear.

Both Cynthia Rose and Stacie’s eyes widen at the gesture.

Jesse doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, so, it was nice running into you, but we’re gonna—”

“Wait,” Cynthia Rose says quickly. “Didn’t you see Chloe’s text?”

Jesse pauses, looking annoyed. “What text?”

“I, um, haven’t been able to check my phone at all,” Beca replies, gently swinging hers and Jesse’s joined hands.

Stacie’s face becomes an impassive mask. “It was a group text. She just said to ‘come home now,’ so that’s why we’re headed out. You need a ride back?”

Jesse coughs. “Actually we—”

“It seemed important,” Stacie cuts him off. “And you know what Chloe’s like. Hell hath no fury.”

Beca has no idea of Chloe had actually sent any kind of text, but at the moment she doesn’t care. All that matters is that Cynthia Rose and Stacie had understood her.

Jesse tries again. “I’m sure that whatever she has going on will be fine without Beca.”

“That’s not really how Chloe operates,” Cynthia Rose says.

Stacie nods. “Yeah, when she sends group texts, she means business.”

Beca holds her breath.

A long moment passes. Stacie starts tapping her toe on the sidewalk.

“I—fine!” Jesse finally spits. “Great, sure. We’ll just go.”

“You need a ride?” Stacie asks again. “Cee and I drove.”

Beca opens her mouth, but Jesse beats her to it. “I drove her here. I can drive her home.”

“Oh, then I’ll just ride with you,” Stacie says smoothly, pulling her keys from her purse and handing them to Cynthia Rose. “Beca, I feel like I haven’t seen you all week, we’ve both been so busy. It’ll be great to catch up.”

“Definitely,” Beca says, trying to ignore the crushing pressure around her hand.

Jesse hesitates, and Beca knows he’s trying to come up with some excuse.

“I’ll just drive behind you guys,” Cynthia Rose adds. “Don’t mind me.”

Beca has to fight to keep the smile off her face. Cynthia Rose pretty much just ensured Jesse doesn’t make any detours driving them back to the Bella house.

Jesse seems to have realized the same thing. “Perfect,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Let’s go then,” Stacie urges, stepping close to Beca under the premise of taking cover under their umbrella and resting her hand on her lower back protectively. “Don’t want to be late for Chloe.”

“Of course not,” Jesse replies, the sarcasm in his tone obvious. Still, he leads the way back to his car, keeping hold of Beca’s hand. Stacie doesn’t pull away from Beca either, though, and she thinks that together they must make a strange sight, all crammed under the small umbrella. Jesse unlocks his car with the key fob and holds open the rear passenger side door for Stacie. She slides into the back seat gracefully, pulling the door closed behind herself. Jesse has to release Beca’s hand in order to open the door for her as well—keeping up appearances—and she slides into the passenger seat.

“You okay?” Stacie breathes as soon as the door shuts behind Beca, giving them precious few seconds alone before Jesse enters the car.

“No. He hurt my hand,” Beca whispers back, flexing out her fingers and wincing as the blood rushes back to her fingertips.

“I saw,” Stacie replies, her voice full of anger.

Then Jesse’s opening the driver’s door and climbing into the car. He slams the door hard enough to make the car rock, throws the umbrella behind his seat, and starts the car. Barely glancing over his shoulder, he pulls onto the road. Beca looks into the side mirror; Stacie’s white car, driven by Cynthia Rose, follows close behind.

They drive in silence. Jesse stares at the road, his hands tight around the wheel. Beca looks out the passenger window, her mind racing. She only risks one glance back at Stacie, who sits motionless in the backseat, her hand hidden in the pocket of her purse where Beca knows she keeps her pepper spray.

Cynthia Rose stays close behind them, the headlights of Stacie’s car cutting through the easing rain and reassuring Beca of her presence.

She’s terrified that at any second, Jesse will take a wrong turn. That he’ll drive her and Stacie to some secondary location and try to lose Cynthia Rose. But he never does. Before long, he’s driving them through the correct part of Barden, then into their neighborhood, and finally, down their block.

Still, Beca doesn’t breathe properly until he pulls into the driveway of the Bella house and turns off the car.

“Well?” he says harshly as Cynthia Rose pulls into the driveway directly behind them, effectively trapping them. “You’re here.”

Beca doesn’t hesitate, fumbling for the door handle. She opens the door, and as she pushes it open, she hears Stacie doing the same. It’s stopped raining completely.

“Beca!” a voice calls, and Beca steps out of the car to see Chloe positively sprinting toward her across the Bella front yard, white as a sheet. “Beca, run!”

“Wh—”

Beca’s throat stops working when she looks beyond Chloe and sees Jesse running after her, his expression horrified.

“He stole my car!” the Jesse running behind Chloe shouts, and Stacie starts screaming.

Beca’s brain has frozen with incomprehension. It doesn’t make sense. She has to be dreaming or hallucinating or something because Jesse just drove them to the Bella house and is still in the car. He can’t have been with Chloe, that’s impossible, he can’t have been in two places at once, and she knows she should run or scream like Stacie or do something, but she’s rooted to the spot, her body numb with shock until—

Jesse—the Jesse that had driven her home—grabs her from behind in a bear hug, pulling her to his chest, his crushing weight surrounding her, squeezing the air from her lungs. She flails on instinct, writhing in his grip, but he’s much stronger. He holds her tightly and starts moving, and she’s being hauled backward, away from the house and toward the street.

“No!”

She hears Stacie shout and Chloe scream, but she can barely focus on them. She struggles, flinging out her limbs, trying to escape. She tries making herself heavier, tries giving into gravity, but Jesse’s arms only tighten. Panic rises in her chest when she realizes he’s carried her to the road. She lashes out desperately and manages to hit Jesse in the neck just below his jaw; he gags, and his grip loosens. She struggles even harder and suddenly there are hands grabbing at her, pushing at him, as Chloe, Stacie, Cynthia Rose, and the other Jesse rip her free from him.

The Not-Jesse is shoved, hard, into the road as Beca is hauled back toward the house, sandwiched between Chloe and the real Jesse—she can just tell it’s him, it’s her Jesse—and there’s an abrupt revving noise, a deep shout, and a sickening thud, accompanied by bending metal and shattering glass.

Safe on the Bella yard, still between Chloe and Jesse, Beca looks back into the road and gasps.

The Jesse that had attacked her lies on the pavement, twisted and broken, his limbs at unnatural angles. He’d gone over the top of the car and must have been scratched by the windshield; cuts and scrapes cover what Beca can see of his body. The car—why does it look familiar?—that had hit him has already stopped, engine idling.

Beca stares at the still form on the ground. Her stomach rolls and she has to fight the urge to vomit.

“Um…” the Jesse at her side says softly, and she looks at him automatically. His face is ashen, his eyes fixed on the spot of the road where his doppelganger lies. Numbly, Beca looks around at the others. Chloe’s staring at the road, too, her expression more fierce than frightened. Beyond her, Stacie and Cynthia Rose are obviously shaken. Cynthia Rose keeps glancing between the broken Jesse on the road and the unharmed Jesse standing next to them.

Only a second has passed.

The car turns off and its door opens; Amy gets out of the driver’s seat, which explains why the car looks familiar: it’s Bumper’s. “Did I get him?” she asks, glancing at Chloe.

Chloe’s throat bobs up and down before she answers. “Y-yeah, I think you got him.”

Nodding, Amy walks over to the Jesse on the road, peering down at his unmoving form. “Pretty solid whack. He won’t be getting up.”

“Good,” Chloe breathes, glancing at Beca.

“I’m… you…” the Jesse next to Beca manages, sounding raspy. “You were right,” he finally manages, talking to Chloe.

“Yep,” she replies grimly.

Beca thinks she may have gone into shock. She feels lightheaded and floaty and can’t understand what she’s seeing.

“He’s… dead?” Stacie asks, her voice quivering slightly.

Before anyone can protest, Amy draws back a leg and kicks the Jesse on the ground, hard. “He’s not breathing,” she says. “I don’t wanna touch him to check for a pulse.”

“No, don’t touch him,” Cynthia Rose insists. “Just… leave it.”

“What…” Beca blinks the spots from her eyes.

Chloe steps away from her, cautiously moving toward the body. She leans over it, like Amy had. After a moment, she says, “His eyes… is that a contact lens?”

Beca doesn’t want to look, but the concern in Chloe’s voice draws her in, along with Jesse, Stacie, and Cynthia Rose. With great reluctance, she forces herself to look at the ruined face on the pavement. It’s turned to the side, resting one cheek on the blacktop, his upper body half-twisted and facing down. The one eye she can see is open and colored a startling amber, nothing like Jesse’s usual brown. On the pavement next to his face is a small film, blending almost perfectly into the pavement. It looks like a colored contact lens.

“His eyes,” Beca remembers, her voice sounding far away to her own ears. “He kept rubbing his eyes. I bet that’s why. He wasn’t used to them.”

“Aubrey did the same,” Chloe says, which only confuses Beca more.

“Aubrey?” she asks.

Chloe nods, her face pale. “They’re clones. Or doppelgangers, or aliens, or—something, I don’t know. But I talked to Aubrey’s. She looks—it was Aubrey. I had coffee with her. But then I called her, and she’s at the lodge. I bet she had color contacts, too.”

A headache has started to form behind Beca’s eyes.

“Ginger came home in a tizzy,” Amy supplies. “Explained. I knew it was only a matter of time before more of them popped up.”

“He stole my car,” Jesse adds, sounding like he has a head cold. “It was just gone, and I didn’t know where, so I came here to see if… well, I ran into Chloe, and she asked if I knew where you were,” he says to Beca. “And, well, she kind of explained and then we put it together and wondered if the other me…” he trails off, glancing at Beca. “Apparently, we were right. Did he—did you really think he was me?” he asks, voice hushed.

Beca nods, her mouth like sandpaper. “Yeah, I—I mean, of course I did. He looked like you. He picked me up in his—in your car after class. And he was so… normal, for a little. But then he got weird about—he just got really weird, and scary, and I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t think…”

“It was lucky we ran into them, honestly,” Stacie says. “We saw your text and were leaving the salon and happened to see them. Beca was great,” she adds. “She used the signal for ‘creepy guy’ that we do at the bars. She touched her ear, and we knew.”

“I told all the Bellas to come home,” Chloe says. “A group text. I sent it right after Amy, Jesse, and I figured it out.”

“Ummmm.” Amy raises her hand, staring hard at Stacie and Cynthia Rose. “Question. How do we know that you guys are you? Like maybe you’re just their clones.”

A very loaded silence falls.

A different kind of knot tightens in Beca’s stomach. She shifts away from Jesse slightly, carefully eyeing Stacie and Cynthia Rose. And, she realizes with a pang, Amy and Chloe might not be themselves. A wave of nausea crashes over her as she realizes she doesn’t know who she can trust.

“We’ll figure that out later,” Chloe says tightly.

“I mean, I’m obviously me,” Jesse says.

Stacie hums. “Unless there’s more than one clone thing.”

Jesse opens his mouth, then closes it, eyebrows drawing together.

“I mean,” Cynthia Rose starts, “Stacie and I have been together all afternoon, and Amy, if you and Chloe have been talking… and I don’t think Clone Amy would run over one of her kind,” she points out.

“I dunno,” Amy says, “could be a clever ruse.”

They all look at her.

“I’m me, but I’m just saying,” she shrugs. “If I were clone me and not me me, it’s what I’d do.”

“Helpful,” Beca mutters.

Chloe looks at Cynthia Rose. “Did you go to campus today?” she asks sharply.

Cynthia Rose blinks. “Uh, no. No classes today.”

Chloe’s lips tighten. “You’re you. I saw your… double, whatever, on campus today.”

“Oh, that’s... horrifying,” Cynthia Rose says, shuddering.

“Okay, look,” Chloe begins. “I think we just have to trust each other at this point. When the others start showing up, we’ll deal with it then. For now, maybe let’s just get inside.”

“What are we going to do with him?” Beca asks, purposely avoiding looking at the Jesse clone still lying on the road. “We can’t just leave him here. Someone’s going to call the cops.”

Chloe bites her lip, thinking.

“Trunk,” Jesse says abruptly, looking at Bumper’s now-dented, windshield-less car. “He’ll fit until we can sort it out.”

“Not it,” Amy says immediately, placing her index finger on the tip of her nose. “Not touching it. Nose goes.”

Jesse rolls his eyes and steps forward. “Just pop the trunk.”

Amy does, and they watch as he picks up the lifeless form with surprisingly little struggle. Beca glances around, making sure no one is peeking out their window or driving by, but the neighborhood is deserted. It doesn’t take long for Jesse to push the body into the trunk and close it.

“Done,” he says grimly, wiping his hands on his jeans. “That was so weird.”

“Right,” Chloe says with authority, clapping her hands together. Beca is reminded forcefully of Aubrey. “Everyone, into the house. We have to make a plan.”

#pitch perfect horror fic #bechloe #bechloe fic #my writing #beca mitchell #jesse swanson #chloe beale #and some clones idk

42 notes · View notes

wordswithkittywitch · 5 years

Photo

Inktober 18 - Misfit

The doll from the 2008 Billy and Zoë story “Misfit Toy”, which I never uploaded to the internet so I’ve put the whole thing under the cut. Keep in mind I wrote this eleven years ago and I haven’t edited it since, and because it’s Billy and Zoë it’s set at Christmas. And has ghosts.

And, full disclosure, I do not really remember much about it except that it’s one of the weirder stories in the series.

Misfit Toy

Billy and Zoë were always said to be good kids, not getting in fights, making the sports team, honour roll, debate team, cheer squad, chorus and band. Both moderately popular jacks-of-all-trades, they managed to make prom king and queen even though they were just friends, and got scholarships to the same college. Billy played sports year round, but managed to talk about other things, mainly debating, singing or playing clarinet. Well, not when he was doing those things, as they involved his mouth. He had a tall, muscular build, his features seemingly mismatched. He had soccer legs and basketball feet, baseball arms on a football torso, which his head was thankfully not too small for, his white blond hair contrasting with his frequently red face. Zoë’s body, however, seemed more perfectly constructed. She had toasted mocha skin and shiny black hair, large brown eyes, long willowy arms and legs rippling with muscles and small, athletic breasts that did not get in the way when she cheered, played the flute, lacrosse, tennis or cricket. Both frequently smiled, especially when the life-long friends found out they were going to college together.

"Bloody hell, it's cold!" Zoë exclaimed. "Happens in December." Billy replied blaisély. His friend turned to scowl at him, but failed when she saw his face. White mist streamed from her mouth as she leaned forward with laughter, forcibly not actually doubling over. "My cheeks are red, aren't they?" "You look like you walked into the ladies' bathroom!" she giggled. "Well, Zoë, it's cold." he replied, pulling his scarf up around his face. "When people go out into the snow, it is a known phenomenon- don't pull on my scarf!" Zoë laughed and stumbled away through the slush. "Oh, now you're going to get it!" he warned, leaning over the burm they walked along to grab a handful of snow that wasn't half ice or mud. His friend took advantage of this distraction to push him over the fence of snow and send the young man tumbling head over heels down the slight incline to the park beyond. He sputtered and pushed himself to his knees. Despite the burm, there wasn't really enough snow in the park itself to tumble like that, at least not comfortably. He reached back with both hands. Zoë would eat snow. Suddenly, his hand touched something that wasn't snow or dead plant. He stiffened, and slowly turned where he knelt. "Ready for this one, Billy boy?!" Zoë called, tossing a snowball in his direction. He didn't turn as it whizzed by his head. "Zoë..." he spoke inquisitively. She tensed at his tone, eyes widened. His mouth worked stiffly before he could continue. "Have you ever gotten the feeling that you're in the first scene of a crime show?" There was a short pause before Zoë moved, but then she was up over the snowbank and down with her friend in a moment. She dropped to a knee as she gazed on what he had found. Then she exhaled, as if she'd been holding her breath the whole time and punched Billy in the arm. "Not funny." Zoë scolding, lifting herself from the ground. She extended a hand to Billy. "I don't think so, either." he replied coldly. He seemed deeply offended she wasn't as disturbed as him by what lay before them, limbs askew. "I'm guessing that shouldn't be here." Zoë commented idly. "I don't want to touch it." Billy said flatly. "And I'm not going to. We shouldn't touch it, we should just tell someone it's here." Seeing as he wasn't taking her hand, she strode forward and plucked it idly from the thin blanket of snow. "It's just a doll." she said dismissively. Twisting it in her hand, she examined its face from various angles and checked if its eyes closed. They didn't. "Kinda ugly one, too." It had slightly matted, dark brown curls, porcelain skin aged to an ivory colour , the rose wash to its cheeks cracked. One of its eyes had been knocked back into its head, leaving a black abscess that stared more deeply than it' partner. The dress and hair were sodden with melted snow, and it's unblinking eye stared out , dull blue, far too large as Zoë turned it in her hand. It was not a pretty doll. It had great fat cheeks but mature eyes and the paint on its lips, a faded red hadn't been applied with any sort of precision. He friend looked revolted that she was touching it. She smiled wickedly, mostly to herself. "Ha!" she shouted, pushing it forward and waving it in his face. "Big bad Bill has something he's afraid of! How he will regret mocking my perfectly rational fear of birds!" "Get that thing away from me." he said quickly, stepping away from her. She raised the doll to her face level and spoke in a high, flat voice for it. "I love you, Billy! Let me eat your heart!" "Knock it off, Zoë!" "Okay, okay." she answered, lowering the doll. "We should check if the park has a lost and found. It can't have been here more than a day or two. It just snowed, and the this was right on top of it." She fumbled the doll to her other hand, idly dangling it from a foot mid-process. Its thin satin dress was too old and caked in place from old snow to flip up as she did so, but the hair hung limp. "Why did you say that thing you said when you first saw that thing, though?" Zoë asked, turning up the collar to her jacket. "That thing about the crime show?" Billy stopped and stared disbelievingly at his friend. "Zoë, she was laying in a pool of blood." he replied as if she were losing her mind. His friend looked at the doll, then at the patch of snow they found the doll in, then at him. She looked as if she couldn't decide to be concerned or annoyed. "Uh, Billy..." "It's all over your hands-" "Billy, drop it." Zoë answered, all amusement gone from her voice. She tucked the doll into a pocket of her jacket. It was an unusually large pocket, but it didn't quite fit. While the face was turned away from Billy, meaning that the doll was looking over her shoulder just barely too far for a human to mimic, the head and torso jutting stiffly off her hip, like the grip of a pistol. While the arms were pinned to it's sides by the fabric, the hair hung from Zoë's pocket and swung as she walked. As soon as she took her first step, she wrapped her hand around the doll and supported it in it's post, lest it fall. "We'll see if this park has a lost and found. It snowed night before last, so this couldn't have been here for more than a day." Billy stopped listening to her at this point. He was rattled, terribly rattled, and he pulled his coat tighter around him.

It was too cold to sleep shirtless, but his pyjama top was in the wash. Perhaps, on another night, it would have occurred to Billy that people have been sleeping in teeshirts longer than they've been wearing them without overshirts, but tonight he could not put that much thought into his clothing. He bundled himself into his blankets and replayed the scene in the park in his mind. He wasn't sure why he did so, since the thought of it chilled him more deeply than the air circulating his room. The snow lay in a half inch on the ground, where it was thick, but it looked a good six until you fell in it. You could really forget there was a hedge under the burm on a day like that. He rolled through the slush, not minding that it tasted like sand, laughing with his friend and getting snow caught in his eyebrows. He turned himself upright and swept up was much snow as he could in both hands, scraping dead grass beneath. his eyes met two others, staring, blank, as if dead. He started back and stared at what lay before him. Blood did not run from it, blood cannot run from dolls. But it lay on the pool of blood, staining the delicate lace dress it wore, the scent of it heavy is Billy's nostrils. And Zoë couldn't see it. Not at all. Billy rolled over and pulled the blanket up under his chin. He didn't like dolls in the first place.

When you first fall asleep, and become aware of something other than lying in bed; there is a period of time when you are not yet aware it is a dream, even if you'll remember this before you wake. Nothing seems wrong then. Everything makes sense. You don't wonder why you're doing what you're doing, or where you are, or why you feel so small. Billy's moment lasted only seconds. But the seconds yawned. They ached. He felt as if there was no floor beneath him, but he was still afraid of falling on it. Perhaps it was that he was shrinking into himself, and that's why it felt like the floor was falling away from him. He fell to his knees and forced his eyes open. He was in a hall. It no longer mattered that he didn't recognise it, at least not to his body. It has started to stand back up of its own accord. It was dark, and it was cold, and far longer than it had any right to be. There was one window a few meters ahead and the rest of the hall swiftly dissolved into blackness. His body moved forward, not blinking, steps firm, and his mind repeating, "Why am I doing this? Why am I doing this? What is it I'm doing?" His small body stopped by the window and looked out. There was thick, drifting snow, at least a foot and a half of it, but it was hard to judge. Out of the window, there was just a field of snow, rimmed with trees. Nothing made by man touched the landscape, nothing to help Billy judge how high he was, or how deep the snow was, beyond the fact it drifted deeply, cutting valleys into the white. The moonbeams were cobalt on the snowdrifts, too dark to be real light; and silver in the places it remembered that fact. He looked down. This was wrong. He knew he didn't wear a pyjama shirt tonight. He remembered, because he nearly froze off his nipples that way. But from what he saw, he was wearing footie pyjamas with trains on them. That was wrong. And for that matter, his hands were larger. Firmer. The tendons stood out whenever he clenched them. The hands clutching the windowsill were soft, and pink, and at entirely the wrong angle. This was too small. He was too small. He suddenly thought that he must be a child, and somehow this was comforting. That Billy had not changed, but gone away. Billy stepped away from the window and continued down the hall. The part of his head that was protesting he lived in a college town where trees only came in deciduous and even then were so rare they had to put cages around them to keep them from running away. He didn't live in this house. He never did.

He reached the door. His hand extended, but the knob slid away up the door, leaving a deep scratch in the paint. Raising himself onto the toes of his footie pyjamas, Billy reached for the doorknob again. This time he caught it, just above his head and felt it struggle beneath his fingers. The knob pulsed like a heart in his hand, and he wanted to let go of it, run back down the hall and out into the snow, never seeing this door again. But rather than that, he turned the knob. The door swung open on its own, a blast of freezing air blowing his hair back and causing him to recoil. The stairs loomed above him, all in blackness. He could feel the walls pounding in the same beat as his heart as his feet took him up into the lightless attic of their own accord. The stairs seemed to go on forever before him, and soon, he knew, they would go on forever behind him as well. If only he had a candle, a ball of light in this darkness. At least then, he wouldn't have to keep a hand on the cold, dusty wall as he ascended. He would have thought that after a few minutes of this, that seeing a light above him, marking where the stairs stopped, would have given him some hope. This lurching dread in his belly was unexpected. Perhaps it was because he hadn't seen the light when he had first opened the door? Eyes focused on the light before him, Billy took the stairs mutely, staring unblinkingly. The last step was lower than the ones before it, and child-Billy stumbled to his knees, stomach crashing in this sudden break in tension to the point he wanted to vomit. He didn't. He couldn't manage it, but the sensation pulsed at the point where the part that remembered he was Billy thought his Adam's apple ought to be. His breathing slowed faster than he expected it to. As he stared at his plump, soft hands, the light upon them began to fade. He looked up and started at what he saw before him. It was an attic much like any other, weathered wooden beams and a slanting ceiling, cobwebs glowing in the shifting light. One corner of the attic had been rumpled, boxes unpacked and overturned, their contents displayed on top of them. China dolls with staring eyes, armies of silent tinker toys stiff and unwound, frozen for their moment in time. Hundreds of music boxes of various sizes, some with dancers, some with keys on chains, some with nothing at all but a small wooden case with a knob on the side. In the centre was a doll. A very a large doll, lit from under her chin. There was a wooden Christmas pyramid in her lap, one of the ones with a propeller on top that made the figures inside spin if you lit the candles. He's never seen one so large or so intricate. Her knees had to spread as she knelt behind it, holding it like a cherished toy, and her head was held limply at an angle on her shoulder, letting the large fins cut through the air, narrowly missing her head with each turn. There was a single lock of hair which caught consistently upon them, the thin wooden leaves pulling it out and then dropping it onto the on behind it. And all through the layers on layers of the pyramid, different Christmas scenes were depicted in painted woods of various kinds. At the base, a victorian market bustled with people, an old man in a top hat who was probably supposed to be Scrooge storming as much a tiny carved figure could. Above them, dancers swirled in what he believed was the Nutcracker suite. There were nativity scenes, carols brought to life, angels trumpeting, elves at work and children on carousel horses. All so exquisitely carved. He was so fascinated he almost didn't notice the candles burnt blue. His eyes moved to the top tier, two painted figures turned around each other. Not knowing a terrible lot about woods, Billy guessed the boy at being made of pine and the girl of walnut. The girl was holding a doll. The boy's arms were up and his little painted mouth was open in terror. Swatches of pink paint lit his cheeks. Suddenly, Billy knew why he was here. It was that doll from the attic. His grandmother's doll. It was creepy. It had creeped him out before his sister died. She'd liked that old doll so much. She thought it was sweet. But that was a long time ago. A shrinking part of Billy's mind protested he'd never been there before and he didn't have a sister. The rest went on to think about how he'd begged his mother to get rid of the doll, how he swore its eyes followed him. She had met him halfway and put it in the attic, but she wouldn't hear of getting rid of it. It was her mother's before her, and she'd passed it on to his sister. And now, something moved in the attic. If his mother wouldn't believe him, he'd fix it himself. He picked up a snowglobe. The blue light from the dead candles caught in the glitter within. He'd smash the evil thing's eyes out. The doll blinked. It wasn't the kind of doll that blinked, its eyes were set back in its head. The snowglobe slipped in Billy's hand. Billy looked up at the woman holding the pyramid. She blinked slowly in acknowledgement. "What is your name?" he asked nervously. "For the moment..." the woman said slowly. He features shifted as easily as if her were just turning her head, he face shifting, eyes large and reflective as Christmas baubles, mouth small and pouting. "That." Suddenly, with a cacophony of tinkling noise, all the music boxes and tinker toys started at once.

Zoë did not dream that night. She simply lay warm in her bed, cherishing sleep at it most basic form--the return of energy. She did not even stir in the slightest in her slumber. In the morning, she was simply not there. The blankets lay as if untouched, neatly tucked in at the edges. A china doll with matted brown hair and only one eye lay on the pillow.

#Inktober #artists on tumblr #inktober 2019 #stuff Kittywitch drew #inkwork #Billy and Zoë

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otomebois-bb · 5 years

Text

Sunflower🌻

(Saeran Choi & MC)

Quick note: originally, I wrote this with the song Sunflower (by Post Malone) in mind, but then I looked up the meaning of sunflowers and decided to go with that instead. I put the meaning of the flower in bold. It starts off as angst, and ends as fluff. Enjoy!

*Spoilers: slight spoiler(s) about Ray's route in the very beginning*

~~~~

"You're useless."

"You can easily be replaced."

"You're just a toy."

"Once you leave this place, I'll be much happier."

His cruel words circulated through my mind like poisonous venom seeping into my veins, slowly eating away at my sanity. I stood by the window, longingly staring at the full moon and wishing that my confidence still shined as bright as it did — yet, the longer I was here, the longer I endured nasty words being thrown at me, the more I wilted, like a flower deprived of sunlight and water.

My stomach grumbled hungrily, and I sighed, turning my gaze to the door of my room. When Ray disappeared, Saeran refused to let anyone but himself enter, refused to let me leave the room, even refused to feed me — however, recently, V had been risking his very life to secretly leave food by my door; a gesture I greatly appreciated even though it put him in harm's way. He didn't do so often since it was too dangerous, but when he did, he tried to leave me a generous amount to last me until the next time he brought food. Sadly though, Saeran of course found out (though he didn't seem to know it was V's doing), and increased the amount of watchful eyes around my room to ensure it didn't happen again. Though his method was successful, I tried to be hopeful V would come back — but that hope was another thing in me that was slowly deteriorating.

My eyes welled up, and I glanced back out the window, trying to focus on the moon's beauty rather than the ugliness of my thoughts. It worked, at first...

However, the quiet sound of the door opening didn't fail to catch my attention since my senses were on hyper alert. My eyes, widening, immediately shifted in its direction, but upon realising it wasn't Saeran, I calmed down; only slightly though, because the hooded figure that entered, shutting the door behind them, wasn't someone I recognised.

I sighed. "Do you need something?"

The person spoke harshly, with a deep male's voice: "Not from you." He slowly stepped closer to me.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Then why are you here? I thought no one but Saeran was allowed to come in..."

He stopped about a foot away from me, more or less. That's when I noticed he was holding something behind his back, and my confusion only grew more. "I'm aware that I'm not supposed to be here. However, you've become a distraction to Mr. Saeran, and everyone — except me — seems too afraid of him to do anything about it, so..." He lifted his arm, and I heard a soft click; he'd been hiding a gun, and just cocked it, ready to pull the trigger with the weapon aimed at my forehead. I could see the psychotic grin on his face in the moonlight as he announced, "I've come to get rid of you myself. If I kill you, perhaps that boy will finally show the Saviour some good results of the tasks he's been given. Any last words?"

For a moment, I merely stared at the gun, debating if it was even worth fighting him to live. My shoulders sank as I decided it wasn't — Saeran wasn't Ray; he didn't care about my health or happiness the way Ray had, so what was the point? This Believer was probably right — with me out of the way, it seemed likely Saeran would make more progress since I wouldn't be around for him to complain about. He didn't like anything about me; hell, he despised my very existence. Why would he care whether I lived or died?

Finally, I sighed, and simply whispered, "Do it."

His smirk stretched wider, and I shut my eyes while he replied with an excitement in his voice, "Gladly."

Before he could pull the trigger, though, someone loudly banged on the door. Startled by the sound, my eyes snapped open — in time to notice the man in front of me jump in surprise, his arm lowering to my stomach...

And a gunshot sounded.

Suddenly, everything was moving in a blurry slow motion. The door slammed open, revealing a figure that vaguely resembled Saeran. Seeming to panic in his presence, the Believer jumped out of the window behind me, the sound of glass shattering and the gun hitting the floor ringing in my ears. I reached down with both hands to clutch my stomach, and when I brought them into my view, the sight of the dark redness painting them caused the pain to finally register, and my legs, no longer able to support my weight due to the overwhelming faintness I felt, gave out beneath me. My head hit the soft carpet, my eyes staring blankly ahead, my breaths being taken in sharply and rapidly. A moment later, I barely felt my body being moved, and the blurry features of Saeran's face entered my eyesight. He seemed to be shouting my name, and I could make out enough of his face to notice the concerned and desperate expression he wore, and it seemed like he might've been crying as well.

The last thing I could remember before going unconscious was the light feeling of being picked up and carried somewhere at a brisk pace — and a single question repeating in my thoughts:

Why?

~~~~

A grandfather clock ticked painfully loud, and grew louder as the image of it became clearer and closer in front of my eyes. Everything around me was shrouded in darkness, including my own body — everything except that damned clock. The hour hand drew closer to the twelve as the ticking continued, seeming to move slowly yet alarmingly quick at the same time.

Finally, the hour hand reached the twelve, and a jarring chime blared out. At the sound, my eyes shot open, and I instinctively tried to sit up, only to cry out in pain and fall back onto the mattress I'd been resting on. The pain flared throughout my body, stemming from my stomach, and it was then I realised my surroundings were completely unfamiliar: the walls were made out of wood... a cabin house?

The only things I could feel was the pain and confusion.

What happened? Where am I?

I was instantly reminded when Saeran rushed to my side, looking different from how I've ever seen him before; his hair much messier than it was the last time I saw him, the bags under his mint green eyes darker, and his clothes were both different and disheveled — black pants and a plain white button-up. "Are you okay?!" he asked, both frantic and rushed.

Oh, right...

The Believer. The gun, originally aimed at my head. Saeran's loud, angry knocking. How his knocking had caused the Believer's aim to shift from the shock, and... the gunshot. Saeran's sudden, surprising concern.

Analysing the little details on Saeran's face, such as his darkened bags and slightly red, puffy eyes... showed that his concern was so genuine, he'd actually been crying and losing sleep (more so than before) because of it.

Again the question presented itself: Why?

Realising I was staring while he was awaiting an answer from me, I hesitantly replied, "I-I'm okay." His face scrunched up, not seeming to buy my response and possibly expecting a better reply, so I elaborated, "I mean, my stomach really hurts, and I'm kinda confused, but otherwise I'm okay."

Saeran only became more puzzled, it seemed, at my words. "Confused? Oh. Right. You probably noticed that this isn't the Magenta building. I didn't think it would be smart to keep you there after what happened; so I brought you here to tend to your wound, and watch over you." He averted his eyes, continuing, "I managed to dig the bullet shell out and stitched up the wound the best I could before bandaging it. You've been unconscious for a little over two days though, and I was starting to worry..." His voice trailed off, and he turned his gaze back to me, a mixture of emotions flashing through his face as he seemed to be deep in thought.

"Uh, I mean, I was wondering about that, too, but that wasn't exactly what I meant..." I glanced down at my lap, awkwardly scratching an itchy spot on my cheek.

"What are you talking about?"

I inhaled, shut my eyes, and explained, "Well, you know, ever since your uh, Ray persona left, you've been a bit... rude. So I guess I don't understand why, after that, you'd care about me."

I expected an outburst from the white-haired man; whether it was as small as yelling at me, or as big as using violence against me.

But instead, Saeran was dead silent. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw why — his mint green orbs were wide with shock. However, soon after he noticed my staring, he seemed to pick up on my hidden fear of him, and his expression immediately shifted to one that I recognised all too well — regret. To my surprise, his eyes quickly watered, spilling over his cheeks at an alarming rate, and he placed his head down, hiding his face with his arms as heart-wrenching sobs overtook him.

"S-Saeran?" I called softly, my hand instinctively reaching out to smoothen his hair, but I stopped myself before it touched him. My hand hovered over his head in hesitation. Would touching him worsen or better the situation? I wasn't sure.

I decided to risk it though, allowing my hand to gently drop. As my fingers combed through his soft, messy locks, I couldn't really tell if I was calming him down or making him cry more. Eventually, he lifted his head slowly, his tearful eyes refusing to look at me, and my heart ached. My hand naturally slid down to cup his cheek, my thumb lightly brushing away his tears. He hesitated before his own hand reached up to press mine closer to his face.

"Saeran–"

"Don't," he snapped, but his tone wasn't intimidating nor rude. He sounded... more broken, than anything else. He sighed, and, seeming to put thought into his words rather than spitting them out, he muttered, "I've been thinking a lot since... that incident. I don't think I ever truly meant what I said to you. I think... it was more of a defense mechanism." He glanced over for a second to take in my confused expression, then continued, "I'm not sure if I told you this myself — you might've heard it from V — but when we were younger, Saeyoung, who you know as seven-zero-seven, mysteriously and randomly vanished from my side without a word. He was — is — my other half; my twin brother. I never knew why he left. My Saviour — err, Rika, told me that he'd abandoned me. She drugged and brainwashed me into believing that the brother I looked up to and loved so much... actually just abandoned me. She told me it was because I was weak, and worthless to him... and I believed her.

"I believed her when she told me V was the bad person. I believed her when she said she'd make me strong if I followed her. Every word she said, I believed..." I was beginning to feel sad myself, and Saeran noticed. He hesitantly held my face in his hands, so gently, it seemed he was afraid I'd shatter into pieces like glass. "I think... I treated you poorly because I was scared you'd do the same: leave without saying anything. I tried, so hard, to convince myself that I was being mean to you because you truly meant nothing to me; but that wasn't true. There was no way that could ever be true. I only did it out of fear; I was so afraid that if I continued to treasure you, you'd turn your back on me. And I desperately wanted to avoid that. But I realise now that what I did was wrong. And I regret it." He sighed. "I don't expect you to ever forgive me. My actions were very unforgivable. But I'm eternally sorry for everything. I'd like to prove myself to you that I can — no, that I will be better, if only you'd give me the chance to..."

At the end, his voice trailed off as he started to cry again, his tears coming more slowly this time. With a few tears in my own eyes, I whispered, "Saeran... of course I forgive you."

"Why?" he asked immediately; but it sounded more like a statement than a question.

Again he was avoiding my eyes, so I softly requested, "Saeran, please look at me." Hesitantly, he did, and I smiled sadly. "I forgive you because you didn't know how to properly handle your emotions. I don't think that's your fault at all — if anything, Rika's the one to blame. From what you and V have told me, it seems like she forced you to follow her every word, to stay by her side and blindly trust her like a lost puppy. You never had anyone to show you how to deal with various emotions in a healthy way — and your past only amplified that. So yes, I forgive you, and of course I'll give you a chance to be better, because I know you won't ever disappoint me. You have so much potential, Saeran, and I know you'll live up to it."

Saeran's jaw was slightly hanging, yet there was such an adoration in his eyes, I couldn't help but giggle at his oddly cute expression. Seeming to recollect himself at the sound, he shut his mouth and swiftly reached over, pulling me into his arms. The quick motion caused me to wince in pain, and he immediately let go. "Sorry..."

I merely laughed again. "It's okay." I opened my arms to him, and he didn't hesitate to embrace me, this time gently. I rested my chin on top of his head, his soft hair tickling my neck, and I let one hand lay securely on his back, holding him to me, while the other played with his hair and smoothened it.

For a silent, comfortable moment, we simply enjoyed each other's warmth. Then, he pulled away slightly, staring into my eyes with such a deep intensity, I blushed — and he only made that blush worse by stating with absolute certainty, "I love you."

My first instinct was to say it back, but when I couldn't find my voice, I resorted to gripping the collar of his shirt and tugging him close enough so I could kiss him. He seemed shocked at first, like he had been the very first time I'd ever kissed him — however, this time he wasn't flustered to the point of running away. In fact, he let a small smile creep onto his lips, and gently slid a hand into my hair (which was no doubt messy and tangled) as he returned my kiss. He broke it shortly after, a look in his eyes hinting he'd kiss me more if it weren't for my current situation; his smile cute and innocent. "Rest up. I'll bring you some soup if you're hungry."

"Please do." He nodded, and stood to exit. Before he walked out, I called to him, "I love you, Saeran."

Saeran turned his head with the most endearing smile on his face. "I love you too, princess~."

~~~~

A couple months later.

With Saeran's help, my wound healed rather quickly. When I was well enough, he gave me back my phone. Upon opening the RFA app, I went through a number of the chatrooms I'd missed, noticing that everyone was worried not only for me but for Saeran as well — which, to my surprise, was because V came clean about Mint Eye and Saeran, and even mentioning Rika (probably because he realised there was no way around it); saying he was only bringing it all to their attention after hearing the gunshot and seeing Saeran run out of the building, carrying me (unconscious at that point) in his arms with blood on my hands and seeping through the dark material of the black dress I was wearing. Saeyoung was the most shocked about Saeran, while Yoosung was most shocked about Rika.

After reading though everything, I entered the chatroom since everyone was present and worrying like crazy — which only increased at my sudden reappearance. I told them I was okay, my wound was healing, and (before Saeyoung even asked) Saeran was also okay and watching over me.

I kept updating them as I healed, and, once I'd almost made a full recovery, managed to convince Saeran to meet up with the RFA (V included) and reunite with his brother — which was surprisingly easier than I'd thought. With his approval, I'd sent Saeyoung our current coordinates, allowing him to grab us and be the first one to see both myself and Saeran.

The twins had a touching reunion when he finally arrived at the scene. Lots of tears were shed from all three of us, and it was difficult to determine who cried the most. Saeyoung first hugged Saeran, telling him how happy he was to see him again, alive and well — and then he embraced me, careful of my still healing wound, repeatedly thanking me for helping his brother escape Rika's toxic clutches, which allowed them to meet again.

Soon after, Saeran joined the RFA, Rika was caught and Mint Eye was shut down, and I had fully recovered from the gunshot wound.

It was June eleventh — the twins' birthday. Saeyoung suggested the RFA celebrate it by having a picnic in a field of flowers since he'd come to discover Saeran's love and knowledge of flowers. I decided to wear something simple yet beautiful — a plain white sun dress with a bit of lace and a nice twirl when I spun. Saeyoung wore a black button-up shirt and jeans, and Saeran wore the same, but with a white shirt instead. The moment Saeran saw me and took in my appearance, a small blush and a warm smile appeared in his face.

Saeyoung had asked Jumin to find the "finest field of flowers you have!" (his words, not mine) to make Saeran happy, and Jumin certainly came through. When we arrived, Saeran and I shared a look of awe, which V noticed and gave us a slight smile — the field was as breathtaking (if not more so) as the garden Saeran had tended to at Mint Eye.

Saeran's eyes instantly lit up at the sight of all the flowers, and, after taking it all in, he took my hand and ran towards it, with me giggling as he pulled me along. Thankfully I'd chosen simple Greek-style flats — they were gold and had straps that snaked up my legs, those and the lack of a heel preventing the shoes from slipping off my feet.

Eventually, he stopped to pick some flowers — two tall sunflowers. He turned, not dropping my hand, and held them out to me with an adoring smile. Taking them with a warm smile on my face, I asked, "Saeran, what's the meaning behind sunflowers?"

His smile grew, and I could tell from the twinkle in his eyes that he was eager to answer my question. "The sunflower... means adoration, loyalty, and longevity. They also represent the sun, if that wasn't obvious from the name. They're known for being happy flowers, too. So I wanted to give you these for a while... because I adore you, and I long for you, and I'm going to be loyal to you, and most of all I want you to be happy."

I beamed. "That's beautiful. I'm happy thanks to you, Saeran." I paused to stare at the flowers in my hand, then offered one back to him. "I should give you one too. I feel the same about you."

"Oh, no, it's okay, you don't–"

"But I want to," I interrupted, "because you deserve it. I love you, Saeran. Happy birthday."

Saeran's face was absolutely stricken with love, from his wide smile, to his glimmering eyes. He leaned down to kiss me, and stated, after breaking the kiss, "I love you more, princess. Thank you... thank you for everything."

~~~~ END. ~~~~

#saeran choi #mysme saeran #mm saeran #mystic messenger #fanfic

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rose-lighters · 5 years

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Time to rank every MCU film

Yes I am doing that oh so original thing of ranking every marvel film from worst to best. Criticisms and debates are welcome. (Disclaimer: I like all these films unless stated otherwise)

X. Incredible Hulk - I haven’t seen it. Sorry.

21. Guardians Of the Galaxy Vol. 2 - I can honestly say I hated this film. The only likeable part of the whole film was the soundtrack and the first few minutes with Groot dancing. Beyond that it was dull, cringy and oh so predictable. The second that Ego (???) appeared and said he was Quill’s dad I was just like “Oh so this guy’s the villain then” and noped out of there. I never saw past that point and don’t intend to.

20. Captain America: The Winter Soldier - People praise this film till kingdom come and I for one do not get it at all. Many say that it is unique in moving away from the typical superhero film and towards the spy genre. Maybe I just don’t like spy films but it is in no means a great Marvel film. I liked it enough but it’s so forgettable I had to google the plot for this review. I liked the characters and all but it just never stuck with me as anything special.

19. Guardians Of the Galaxy - Maybe I just don’t like the guardians??? I don’t know but this was another film that just didn’t stick with me. I like Rocket and Groot but beyond that the Guardians themselves hold no interest with me. I don’t care for the humor particularly and whilst the music is great that really shouldn’t be the best part of a film unless it’s a musical.

18. Avengers: Age of Ultron - People hate this film, I however do not. It’s an okay Marvel film, I don’t care for it enough to hate it. I like that scene where they’re all trying to lift mjolnir and I think I liked the ending (I watched it like two years ago so I don’t remember that well) but I have to agree with a lot of the criticism of white washing the Maximoffs (despite how much I love Elizabeth Olsen and Aaron Taylor Johnson, it was still shady). I didn’t hate the ‘giving Hawkeye a family’ like a lot of people did because the already made it clear he wasn’t like comic Clint.

17. Thor: The Dark World - Now we’re moving into films I do like (I love Marvel films more than I dislike them, it's literally just GOTG2 that I don’t like). This was a good film from what I can remember (as I said it's been a while since I’ve seen a lot of these films). I liked the story arcs, I liked that it was set in places other than America and space (ok, so I’m from England, sue me), I loved Tom Hiddleston in this film and I like Darcy. All in all it was an enjoyable viewing, a little dull at times but generally harmless.

16. Doctor Strange - This would be further up if it wasn’t for how dull the first half hour or so is. I had to go back and watch this months after I had first tried just because the start was so boring. Once I moved past it however it was a great origin film. I liked the humour in it and I have always had a soft spot for magic so it was a brilliant film. The effects were absolutely stunning and on aesthetics alone it would place as the second or third best marvel film. I loved the good guys and was genuinely rooting for them despite Strange being a bit of a snarky arsehole.

15. Iron Man - Is this a very important film? Yes. Is it a great film? Also yes. Do I remember it? Not at all. Okay, so I remember some stuff and what I do remember was great but to say its a film that sticks out would be a lie. It’s THE origin story in as much as it’s a formulaic one: flawed character is traumatised and realises their flaws in the process, is influenced by important person, becomes a hero and is betrayed. It works though. That’s the thing, it works so damn well that its almost not in the formula. It's a great watch and honestly RDJ looks great in it (so not the point but I digress). That bit with Stane ripping out the arc reactor made me feel betrayed and I kinda knew it was coming. ( https://tonynatashas.tumblr.com/post/184375713429/that-scene-in-iron-man-where-obadiah-stane-is this post explains why this scene is so great important)

14. Captain America: The First Avenger - Another (enjoyable) origin story. If Sebastian Stan wasn’t in it it would probably be three places down but hey I have a type. No but seriously this was a great film because not only did it show off the brilliance of Roger’s transformation and gave us an idea of who he was and what motivates him but it also then gives us details of his waking in the 21st century and begins to expose his issues with this time travel (for want of a better phrase). This film shows you what you’re gonna get whilst still having pretty good effects, a good, solid storyline and a pretty badass comic book villain. The serum guy creeps me out though and there are so many ethical issues of that level of human experimentation on a person whose only friend went off to war, had Steve died they chose someone no one would really miss which is so concerning.

13. Captain Marvel - A lot of people may have a criticism of this film being so far down but for me it needs to be. I like superhero films where the main character overcomes a flaw and amnesia is not a character flaw. This is a good origin story but it is not a great marvel film. I like Carol but I don’t love her. I love the fact that we have a superhero film with a female main character and i liked that scene where she talks with biker guy but it felt like Samuel L Jackson was a more interesting character at times. I often rate characters on humor so there’s that. It was a good film but I’m mostly looking forward to what will be done with the character as she has so much potential.

12. Spiderman: Homecoming - This is a weird one for me. It’s the only marvel film I own on DVD and it’s the only one I like where I skip scenes. I can not deal with cringy humour so I skip 80% of the jokes and awkward moments in this film however it’s a really good film. It’s funny and the music is great, I love Zendaya and Jacob Batalon probably more than Tom Holland, their roles are great and the film’s emphasis on friendship is one of the elements from the Iron Man and Captain America films that I love just further amplified. The references to Ferris Bueller and the fact that it is, at its core, a teen flick makes it a brilliant film. The vulture twist was also amazing.

11. Ant-man and the Wasp - I feel like it isn’t talked about enough but I really bloody love Scott Lang. He is one superhero that I can really get behind because above all else he is just the nicest guy. He is probably one of the most human seeming characters in the MCU and it always makes for such an enjoyable viewing. This could probably draw with ant-man in terms of great films. I loved Ava Starr so much and my heart really went out to her and that FBI guy was a total joy to watch. The Ant man films are so funny and light hearted that they don’t have that sort of weariness that other MCU films have. If only Luis told more stories in the MCU.

10. Ant-man - Honestly just look above. Also I love Hank Pym and Hope Van Dyne so much. The villain was kind of eh but I loved the heist aspect.

9. Black Panther - I watched this film for Shuri and to an extent because I felt obligated to so I had low expectations. People were talking about it for the significance of fighting for equality (which I am all for, don’t worry) so I was expecting it to not live up to the hype and it didn’t. That being said it was a bloody great movie. The movie was beautiful, the use of colour and the CGI tech was so damn pretty. The plot was brilliant and for a while I wanted Erik Killmonger to win, he put forward a good argument and I like a ‘baddy’ so to speak. The fights were great and I was so here for their version of going under cover finally not being a hoodie and cap. Was it over hyped? Hell yeah. Was it still a great film? 100%

8. Iron Man 3 - This gets a hell of a load more crap than it deserves, mostly from comic book fans who can’t stand that their precious mandarin was a hoax but honestly I respect the fuck out of marvel for that. Rather than having a stereotypically asian terrorist they turned that stereotype on its head and made the white guy the actual terrorist. Ben Kingsley is one of my favourite actors and he was amazing. I, obviously, also loved the representation of PTSD as a serious issue and how it was displayed in all of its real ugliness. For once it didn’t just show a damaged person who was fixed with romance. So yeah, this film was a masterpiece.

7. Captain America: Civil War - Zemo may just be my favourite MCU villain to date, why? Because he fucking won. This was a film about a man who knew his victims and rather than stupidly trying to attack the big scary strong guys he exposed them and made the best of circumstance. He got under Captain America’s skin and played him like a puppet. This was more than just a villain, this was finally a smart villain. Not to mention that this film had some of the best action sequences and heart breaking moments whilst still having time for a laugh. It’s also the first film (in my opinion) that called out Steve’s morals and his obsession with the past. Bucky was hot used against him and it showed that above all else, even the little people, Steve’s loyalties are with his past.

6. Thor - Most people would disagree and rate this film far lower however for me this was the start. I didn’t grow up watching superhero films because I didn’t like watching TV as a kid so it wasn’t till I was 13 that I saw a superhero film and this was it. I honestly watched it because my friend had it on DVD and I thought Tom Hiddleston looked hot but from what I can remember this was one of the best films I ever saw. I wasn’t too bothered by Jane Foster but I absolutely loved Darcy, Loki and Thor. Whilst I’m not adopted I do know what it is like to be the younger and smarter sibling with an older thuggish brother who is still the favourite so I loved Loki with a passion and was so upset when he fell.

5. Iron Man 2 - This was the film that made me realise that I liked girls, Scarlet Johansson in a black cat suit and red ringlets was an amazing thing to little 13 year old me. Beyond that it was just a solid film, it had spies and daddy issues and sass and Samuel L Jackson. What more can you want?

4. Thor: Ragnarok - This is the peak of Thor, I’m calling it now. Never had a director before been able to capture the absolute chaos of Loki and the sweetheart-ness of Thor so brilliantly. As far as representations of characters this, Captain Marvel and Iron Man 3 may just be the best of all the MCU. This is the full completion of Thor’s arc, this is the film that the first Thor set up. Finally Thor is ready to be King. This film had so much humour but still set it all up so perfectly that it was more than just a comedy. Jeff Goldblum was amazing and honestly Taika Waititi should direct the whole of the MCU. He knows the characters better than anybody.

3. Avengers: Endgame - I cried three times. That scene with the portals was the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed and whilst many criticize much of the plot I don’t have too much I’d change, though in fairness I did like the cursed child so maybe I just have a soft spot for all things time travel. Dynamic timelines are not used in cinema enough and the three alternate timelines create have all sorts of implications for future films in the MCU. If Thor is not fat in the next film this may go down to 20th though.

2. Avengers Assemble - This is the film that I believe best represents what the MCU has to offer. It’s a light hearted superhero film with all the characters that were needed at this point in time. For its time it was ambitious and honestly it shows. I loved the dynamics between the characters, the plot was engaging and not overly complex and even if you haven’t seen any other MCU films it makes perfect sense. In some respects it probably is the best the MCU has to offer.

1. Avengers: Infinity War - Oh boy do I love this film. This isn’t just a film, this is the film. Did it have the same emotional impact as Endgame? Fuck no but it didn’t need to. It was serious. It was funny. It had just the right amount of just the right characters and may I just say that is the best that Captain America has ever looked in the MCU. I (controversially) really loved Gamora dying and most of the Guardians being dusted. The memes were great.This was the most ambitious cross over event since Wizards of deck with Hannah Montana. One thing that I can’t get out of my head though is Bruce’s comment of “broke up like the beatles?”. Does that make Bucky Yoko Ono?

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mylifeinscript · 6 years

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this is one of the only times i have treated this blog as a diary, but i kinda just wanna let some thoughts out, even if i regret it in the future.. at least it isnt that direct. i am developing feelings for a boy that, if i told myself from 2 years ago i had feelings for now, she would not have believed me. before, he was the last person i thought i could ever want to be around so much. now, i can’t really get him out of my head. i am at a constant debate with myself whether i should show him all the affection i internally always want to show him or if i should just, keep going with the flow? going with the flow always kept me from getting my feelings hurt too much, but i also can’t help but feel like he hasn’t been shown too much affection in his life, not too directly i guess. i just keep wanting to tell him the truth of things(i.e. that he ISNT ugly and that he is quite sweet and handsome), because what if no one ever has? or what if i just get completely rejected for all im worth? I feel like there isn’t any winning here. but its frustrating that he doesn’t seem to see himself the way i do. i’m not saying i’m always right or something, i just wish he knew that someone thinks the absolute world of him and he could have absolutely no idea of it. he could think i’m thinking of someone else this way or he could just not care about me at all. sometimes i overthink the little things he does, the smaller gestures and think more of them than i probably should and that is not good. even if its something cute as a gesture, i feel like if i make a bigger deal out of it than i should(i.e. offering cute giftss) then i will get confident for no reason and maybe end up telling him how i feel and then get rejected or something. i realize this entire post is just me being worried, overthinking lots, and maybe paranoia.. but i feel like this is what is comfortable for me. being worried about something that probably won’t happen seems more safe than being confident in something that doesn’t exist, right? i think i just get so caught up in wanting to know what he is thinking. i don’t necessarily care for the relationship being developed as much as i want to know what he thinks right now of me. i have a feeling this will be a long road of worry and probably end with disappointment. even if i didn’t get to be with him in something more than friends, i so wish i could just talk to him more but he isnt exactly extroverted or anything. whenever i’ve talked to him i’ve had a smile plastered all over my face and my cheeks end up aching after speaking to him. but it’s the best kind of pain, a pain from smiling is a better pain than others. if i listen to my gut feeling, he doesn’t think anything extra of me. he definitely seems like he isn’t giving that vibe off anyways, then again maybe i’m too used to being around oblivious boys(not meant to be offensive at all). i just can’t see him as being oblivious, i think he is smart and quick. he really is different than anyone i've known, he is also different than a small pattern i've had with people i find attractive. it's nothing AGAINST blonde people, but before him i just never found myself finding one attractive. although, maybe his personality is just making his entire self more attractive as i speak to him. I can't figure this out tonight. I should really sleep now though(if i can), so i suppose i will try. goodnight qt(maybe one day if not now, you will know who you are). i hope you’re sleeping well ): oh and, apologies to anyone who has actually read through all of this, you must be bored im sorry

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roses-and-oceans · 7 years

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So I'm kinda debating writing this out but I decided to anyway. On and off, I've been writing posts about how I'm feeling and then deleting them. Its become sorta cathartic but I just don't seem to do it that often anymore i keep things inside. I wish I can put things under cuts on mobile because gosh darn it I don't want you all to go through a wall of text and it not be a fic. I mean I know every one's going to ignore this and no one cares but hey, I'll give it a go before I fall asleep. Hopefully I feel better after writing this. EDIT:I feel miles better! Honestly I would have never gotten this off my chest if I did not write this. I feel... Undeserving. Undeserving of many things and people. It was an apparent issue, I realized, when I wanted to write fics. I thought I was selfish of me to indulge in something so pleasurable. Just reading fics made me happy but if I also wrote things, then I'd just muck it up and be hunted down like, "hOE DARE YOU. YOU ARE SO SELFISH.WHY" And its not that fic writing is a bad thing!! Its just I'm not allowed. Like everyone can have fun except me because I'm not worth it, I'm not allowed. Why? Goodness knows. I still feel like that sometimes. Like no one will read it, but then there'll be this witch hunt for me, asking for my severed head on a stick. And that's the case for most things. I try to make myself small, quiet. For the sake of not disturbing others, not getting in the way, not ruining things. So that way I don't have anyone hate me. And I guess that's why I'm the way I am. I don't want to be hated. I don't want to be disliked. I mean this modern age its not possible LOL but still I try my best. I make myself moldable and flexible for the sake of others. I try not to breathe around them as much so as to not disturb them. Also another reason why I am the way I am is because I was actually hated when I was younger. I know, "get over it" lmao, and in some cases I am. But being hated by so many people, kids and adults alike... And no one did anything to stop, to see me, to wonder why. Ehh. C'est la vie. I guess the "lessons" forced upon me had stayed. I was taught that I ruin everything, that I was useless, stupid, fat and ugly. And honestly back then I just shrugged and continued reading my books. But I guess I didn't block everything out haha! And so I've always thought I was insignificant. That I was merely here. I've never actually thought about my future, so Ive never gone to college, not really sure what to do career-wise. A lot of friends in high school were like, "yeah everyone had to do this thing for college we went to councilors and and now we're all set! :)" and I was like WAIT WHAT LOL WAS I ABSENT THAT DAY WAS I NOT PAYING ATTENTION WE HAVE THE SAME CLASSES BRUH But I guess I just thought I wasn't worth the extra effort so I really didn't pursue anything I didn't ask questions. Because I thought I wasn't worth it. Thinking about it, its really stupid. Like hello!!! I'm supposed to go out there and get what I want right?? But then I think why? And no answer comes because I don't see myself succeeding. I graduated high school, and right when I left, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I've never thought I'd live a long life. I just don't see it. Like what am I going to be doing??? Not much probs lol. I see myself as a background character, a stepping stone to another ledge. I don't see myself as particularly special. Kinda don't mind it. Like really I'm just here to enjoy food and music and video games until I can't anymore lol. I guess you can say I don't see myself. Also, another reason why I don't think of myself is because I feel I'll get too greedy. I don't want that I am so terrified. I do not want to be entitled and snobby. I'd rather go without so some one else can have things and it's just... Ahhhhhh. I don't want to be greedy. Its a really big fear of mine. I guess I don't talk to anyone about it is because its just so... Frequent. I already have one person who just is sick and tired of hearing it, bless his soul. He has a saint's patience and lord knows its been tested. But I see it getting shorter and shorter and I just revert to making myself seem better, like hi hello yes I am function ing quite well today. I don't think I'm worth the stress. And its not that im talking his ear off and stuff like I'm not like DROP EVERYTHING AND FOCUS ON ME I NEED U TO MAKE ME FEEL BETER. Because I don't think I am he says I don't talk enough. But its whenever I bring up the topic the convo gets shorter and shorter. He's lthe loveliest person he is amazing. He is such a good person!! Just I drive him mad sometimes lol. Im afraid of being manipulative. I don't want that either. I don't want to harm anyone like that but I'm afraid I am. I don't want people or things to cater to me. I think one of the thing that got to me more recently was my birthday. I know, lmao, bitch it was like two months ago get ooovr ittt. Its just. I'm grateful for the good times in between the bad, but it was the most miserable birthday of my life. Things were so chaotic, so heart wrenchingly sad, that I felt I wasn't going to be able to celebrate. Like I felt I was going to be erased. Friends were there, which was really good! Family... Not so much. I guess it comes with being the oldest. Haha I don't think I even had a cake or anything lmao. Honestly I don't care but I had loads of fun with my friends. But i guess its just the fact with everything going on, I was placed in the way way way back. Haha how selfish of me; things come up!!! And its okay!!! Just my birthdays have always been like that and if even the universe is like "nah is just a regular day" then it kinda just sticks to me that my bday isn't really worth it. I also feel like I'm doing everything wrong. Like even though I'm doing everything right, every single thing written down I'm following it to the T, but I'm still failing, still doing things wrong, still not getting any where while everyone is succeeding. And so I will be labeled as an idiot, stupid, useless and hated for it and banished, like I was so long ago. I feel like after reading this, people will actually hate me lol. Like people are like OMG U ARE SO STUPID WTF and just walk away. Like I'll be alone. And I guess?? If that were to happen?? Idk... I have a list of things to remember. Number one is "be kind too myself". HA. I wrote it so I won't feel like this haha, but oh well. Its not working so much anymore. I feel like I'm creating a sob story, like Boohoo bitch you think too much. Eh. Well its getting late and I should sleep. I'm so sorry if anyone has read this mess. Im not looking for pity or anything. Ijust wanted to get this out without disturbing anyone. Well I guess by posting I'll be disturbing... And I promise: I AM OKAY!!!!!!! SRSLY!!!!! if anything its just hormonal, I've been on my period for a few weeks now haha. But if any friends do stubble across this, I'm okay. Just sad and tired. I just need a nap and I'm good. Writnf this was really helpful and I was able to get what I wanted out and if I were to actually talk to someone,I'd probs stop myself and not talk about everything I just did. I wouldn't have gotten this weight lifted off me. If you stuck around haha thank you if not I hope you all have a lovely day. If I don't have a very good day, I hope yours is infinitely better!

#god please don't hate me #about me #hhhhh #I might delete later #idk maybe when I wake up #good night tumblr #not ffxv #I feel like I'm forgetting something but idk what #ahh I'm afraid to post this

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muthaz-rapapa · 7 years

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A few thoughts about KiraPuri Ep. 8...

Another long post. I’m sorry. -.-;

It was good episode. Very good episode.

But I hope I wasn’t the only one who was a little disappointed that last week’s preview tricked us into thinking this would be about Ichika bossing the others around and through that, mess up the camaraderie they’re supposed to be forming. Which would then be followed by everyone deliberating what to do to solve this problem and what Ichika has to do to correct her wrongs. Or something along those lines.

Again, how things played out was in fact, a lot better than putting Ichika in the main spotlight like how it was for the past seven weeks. Now everyone has a part in putting this team together, finding ways to work with each other and so on. Honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better end to the ‘introductory arc’, where we often see the lead Cure taking charge more than the others.

Because I’m aware that it’s kinda necessary to have the them establish themselves into their leader roles that way (by being energetic and encompassing) so I’m willing to let that slide as far as the first 10 episodes go.

However, I still think it would’ve been interesting to see a flaw (any flaw) of a Pink Cure be portrayed in a negative light.

Mostly because I feel that a lot of times any aspect of the protagonist, even the very less than ideal ones, would rarely be displayed so badly that it would alienate the other characters or viewers from her.

For example, even if she was incredibly selfish and jumped into something without consulting her team members first, the plot would conveniently bend over to accommodate what she wants and then find some cheesy way to justify how ‘right’ she is or beautify her to such an extent that it leaves no room for argument against her. Then nobody would have a chance to call her out on her faults so that she can learn to fix it herself. Whether by virtue of her ‘purity’ or whatever glorified trait she possesses, it’s almost always guaranteed to turn out her way.

That’s one of the major reasons why I had so much difficulty tolerating Cure Flora in Go!Pri. As well as many other hero/heroines in other series and genres but those in Precure, especially, because this franchise seldom operates outside its usual formulas.

Maybe I’m not talking much sense but… it’s just this bothersome feeling I can’t help having on how the writers do their characterizations. Like, don’t just gloss stuff over all the time. Give me their ugly sides, give me unsettling confrontations between friends, give me something that won’t allow me to let her live it down but can also allow me to totally accept it as part of the composition of her character. Because that’s what going to flesh her out. She’ll be more of a person and less of an stereotypical image on paper. Flaws make a person a person.

Yea, yea, I do realize I might be thinking too deep into a children’s show but hey, since I invested myself in watching it, then it’d be dumb not to wonder about these things.

*sigh* Well, anyways, it’s a good thought exercise to have, nonetheless. And it’s still very early in the game for Kira Puri so maybe we will see some clashing development like that later on. Only the next 40 something episodes will tell.

Moving along!

I’m glad Yukari brought up the question on whether it’s true that “everyone” wants to open up this patisserie shop.

It implies that the lot of them might just be pulled in by Ichika’s enthusiasm and the fact that they are all Precure rather than being genuinely interested in participating because they want to.

Akira, in particular, is indirectly called a bit of a pushover which isn’t hard to see why since she often pampers her sick sister so that habit might have extended to their group where the majority of them are still in middle school. In other words, Akira has no will or opinion of her own. She just goes along with the flow to appease everyone and she’s being called out for it.

Yukari isn’t trying to be mean but it’s a question that really needs to be asked because lemme tell ya, starting and managing a business is no fucking stroll in the park. It takes a lot of time and effort and in this case, manpower, to get it off the ground and running.

If nobody but Ichika is 100% sure of really devoting themselves and a good portion of their schedules to this project out of their own volition or desire, then the patisserie is not going to succeed.

Thankfully, they all realize they do in the end but again, I have to say this because Toei is giving too many unrealistic expectations on what it’s like to run a shop. As a working person, I can’t just sit by and not say anything about it.

Another thing that got me concerned was how time management or store hours never entered their conversation and likely never will after this point even though it’s a super important discussion that you must have with your employees.

Because Precure universes have a weird sense of time in general but Kira Puri takes the cake in that I see these girls lounging around town and baking at the patisserie more than doing anything else that they should be doing. Like going to school, doing extracurricular actives, etc. I get that this season doesn’t prioritize those things but then…HOW do they make it work? It’s not like they have a fully-fledged, nontransparent and non-creepy adult to oversee the place when they’re not there.

Also, considering that 3 out of the 5 of them already had other commitments to attend to before the patisserie idea came up, it’s a surprise that nobody mentioned them until the very end of the ep. And even more of surprise when Ichika seems so shocked by it so you kind of wonder how self-absorbed she really is to forget stuff like that about her friends so quickly.

I’m sorry for dragging out these gripes of mine but honestly, things can’t possibly go so smoothly like what I’m seeing here. Not to mention, I hate the fact that they brought this up for comic effect when in hindsight, it’s really not something you should be laughing about.

So I hope at some point later in the season, there will be scheduling and commitment conflicts. Everybody might be on board now since they just finished setting the place up and all but when business is booming (I’m guessing it will anyway) and Ichika needs all the help she can get, how will they deal with it when the others can’t spare the time for the shop?

Anyways, while I do make too much of a big deal out of kid’s show, I also know that that’s not the objective of this episode.

The point of this episode was to see if the girls could learn to cooperate with each other. Cuz that absolutely had to happen first otherwise KiraPati would never have been set up.

And since it was set up, obviously they did find ways to work together.

Which introduces new pair dynamics as well.

We already got a good feel of Ichika + Himari + Aoi and Yukari + Akira based on grouping them by age. Plus Ichika + each Cure in their respective scenarios.

But it’d be boring if it was always limited to those so it’s high time that interactions not involving Ichika was finally delved into.

For Himari + Akira, you can see the relationship as that of an older sibling and younger sibling (cuz duh, this is Akira we’re talking about).

Tol and smol. Cute. <3

But you can also see them as marketing partners, too.

Akira, who’s already been assigned as KiraPati’s main garçon, attracts customers and investors with that welcoming, charming demeanor of hers, making it easier to lower their guard so she can pitch their ideas to them.

Meanwhile the more knowledgeable Himari backs up their proposals with the extensive details, showing how serious they are about their business and assuring people that they will be putting the resources they receive to good use.

It’s very encouraging to watch as they naturally come to bounce off each other in that respect.

Then we have the creative pair. The cool feline pair.

Stylish Mama Cat and Rockstar Lion Cub pair.

Their job is interior design cuz you want your customers to enjoy themselves in a nice setting under a pleasant atmosphere after all, right?

Yukari certainly got the aesthetics for the store down and Aoi, being an artist in her own right, most likely agrees with the concept she came up with. So it’s just a matter of organizing everything up to scale.

And of course, they do.

Yukari makes efficient use of Aoi’s muscle to help her set up the decorations and furniture. Not a space wasted but not too cramped (yes, I wouldn’t put it pass Yukari to be an expert on feng shui, lol).

And Aoi, well, it’s just scary how she manages to throw everything into the right spots with such precision (moral of the story: don’t mess with Aoi cuz she will kick your ass).

To think they were in such a messy state the day before but they can all come together like this and make that much progress in such a short amount of time.

It’s great. Their strengths complement each other well and they’re being productive about it.

It’s just great. ^^

Last but not least, the moment of crowning.

While it’s still debatable if the current Ichika is qualified enough to be a steady manager who puts a 14-year old in charge of a store? AND the cook (oh boy…), there’s no doubt that she definitely did earn her title as the leader of the group.

Ichika was the one who brought them together. She was the one who made the decision to use this space provided to them for a cause. She was the one who wanted to bring something good to others and get them to smile from the sweets they’ll serve.

She may not have Himari’s brains or Aoi’s strong arm or Yukari’s calmness or Akira’s maturity. And it’s true that she’s reckless and clumsy all over the place.

But it’s indisputable that she’s got the heart needed to make all this possible.

And that, I think, is the most critical element in sustaining their patisserie. You gotta have the intention to make people happy. There’s no other way you can open a business without that.

So it’s only fitting that Yukari would be the one to christen Ichika with the important position of manager. Because throughout this whole fiasco of building a shop together, Yukari was the only one who didn’t lose herself to stress over the situation (duh, this is Yukari we’re talking about).

Why? Cuz she predicted this would happen.

She knew that with the variety of people here, it definitely is possible to open a magnificent patisserie. Them getting off to a rocky start is just a minor bump in the road because no one’s going to do everything perfectly on their first try like how she was with the macarons *gets shot*.

And she knew that Ichika had the potential to live up to the expectations of being manager because Ichika has the determination to see it through.

If she didn’t know those things, she wouldn’t have stuck around to help because then it would be a failure and Yukari doesn’t accept failure. She doesn’t function on something flimsy like a whimsical belief. She has to really know there is a winning result at the end to see this as worthwhile.

(True moral of the story: Kira Puri wouldn’t survive with Yukari. Yukari knows all. They’d be lost without her. This season would be nothing without her. Yep.)

So think about what it means for her to entrust this huge responsibility to Ichika.

“I trust that you won’t bore me so do your best, little manager.”

Yukari, who’s the most capable of them all. Yukari, so capable that she can probably/easily be a better manager than Ichika but chose not to because that would be no fun for her. Yukari wants Ichika to rise up the challenge in overseeing this patisserie.

It doesn’t just imply how much faith Yukari has in Ichika. It also suggests that being manager will mold Ichika into an even better character. All the stuff she’ll have to face as the leader of her team, that is what going to serve as her character development.

And I so hope that is the case here. I really, really do. You’ve got 40 more episodes ahead of you to take this season’s Cures as far as you can, Toei. Don’t disappoint me.

And that’s that, I suppose.

lol, what the hell is bunnycake looking so tired out for? She didn’t do anything while the rest of them were slaving away to construct her restaurant. :P

Now bring on the fillers~

I can’t do this kind of review every week, it’ll kill me. =A=;

#now off to do a post for LWA #I'm so busy ugh #kira kira precure a la mode #usami ichika #arisugawa himari #tategami aoi #kotozume yukari #kenjou akira #pekorin

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bhadpodcast · 7 years

Text

A’s For Your Q’s!

Anonymous said to bhadpodcast:Im really curious to know why you strongly believe Tyler Hoechlin is gay? I can kind of see it but not as much as others and was wondering if you could explain the reasonings behind it. Do you see him as being truly gay or bisexual? Thanks really have just been wanting to know your thoughts! I hope I dont sound defensive or negative Im really just curious! Okay, gonna do a digest of a bunch of the asks here!

Anonymous said to bhadpodcast: While Hoechlin's open, unashamed and giant boycrush on Dylan as a person and as an actor and his constant staring at Dylan like he hung the moon and stars is super adorable and undeniable, he doesn't really strike me as a homosexual person. As far as my intuition and personal experience go there's little to no doubt Hoechlin is straight, but it's also absolutely impossible to deny the special, unique bond he shares with Dylan in real life or the intense chemistry they have on and off screen. So yeah, I genuinely believe Tyler Hoechlin has always been attracted to women and never really questioned his sexuality or even felt the need to... until he met Dylan O'Brien.

A lot of people hold that theory too. It is possible to just fall in love with a person. I’m of two frames of thought: 1) he never thought about gay, but Dylan awoke the possibility in his head and now he’s all “what other cars don’t have tops!?”, or 2) he knew all along, but Dylan is what made him cave into admitting it, but also what made him turtle shell when faced with the reality of a public relationship.

greyhoundsgirl said to bhadpodcast:I can’t even remember what started this but I’m guessing it has to do with Hoechlin and honestly with the trajectory his career is taking, it would only benefit him to come out, imo.-oh I'd love to hear how, not to keep the gay in HW discussion going but specifically to Hoechs cos I'm so curious about what he wants that trajectory to be vs what maybe it should be? I'm glad your surgery went well, too 😃

Anonymous said to bhadpodcast:Hoechlin and honestly with the trajectory his career is taking, it would only benefit him to come out, imo./why? could you elaborate? I'm not a Hoechs stan (I just drool at him), I'm asking 'cause I know nothing about HW and I'm not sure why you say this. I don't even wanna start wank, I'm actually kinda tired of the bouts of Hoechs drama here lol. I understand if you don't wanna get into it, but I'd appreciate your insight Sticky :)

Anonymous said to bhadpodcast:But there’s a very real atmosphere that tells young actors that being gay is career death but it’s really not//we know of many high profile roles where the "out" actor wasn't cast. Even if the public would accept a gay man playing Captain America, the real problem is that they wouldn't be cast by the conservative movie companies. For all the actors that are liberal, HW is still very conservative on the money side. Young actors not coming out doesn't surprise me, it's the famous ones that should.

guilleobsessions said to bhadpodcast:Someone said the cause Hoech hasn't come out was more complicated than him being in HW. I agree. If he is anything other than straight (according to my theory he isn't as straight as he wants us to believe) at this point he just uses HW life as an excuse, to not recognise that he is just afraid of stepping out of a world he created for himself, based on believes and ideals about how things should be. His need to please everyone it's just pulling him down... This is how I see it, of course.

Okay, so I want to clarify a few things before I get started with this.

When I say the concept of homophobia in Hollywood is based on a myth, I’m not saying that homophobia in Hollywood deosn’t exist. Of COURSE it does, but as with all things, $$$ money trumps all.

Because we are getting more diverse ways to access and distribute media, the people who produce it are also coming from a more diverse pool. It’s why shows like Blackish and Empire thrive, Fresh off the Boat and really all of the Tyler Perry programming. New demographics are being shown to be lucrative and more entertainment outlets are starting to cater to them.

My friend and I were talking about how disappointing LOGO has become. The fact that Logo hasn’t become Lifetime for Homosexuals is shocking. Prooduce some original gay films that have a campy and schlock factor with lots of ugly crying and they would be my destination every Saturday morning for the rest of my llfe.

When Colton came to Hollywood things like this weren’t an option. So he was told to stay closeted so it wouldn’t hurt his career. He was told being gay was career suicide and manipulated into being closeted until it almost freaking killed him.

Noah Galvin came on the scene a decade later where possibilities and opportunities were starting to open up and being gay didn’t automatically make you a pariah. But he doesn’t understand Colton’s generation and therefore he criticized it. The thing is that more and more actors are coming out and are creating their own opportunities. Meaning on a network level you can be a gay working actor and not have your personal life effect your HW career. You can even go out with your significant other and most people aren’t the wiser.

The myth lies in with people like Cody Saint Gnue who G4P, and are caught up in this web of producers and execs who thrive on the fear of being a pariah when they’re not the only avenues anymore.

Now, currently this works on a local level. Meaning you can appeal to the liberal masses and maybe score an online or nationwide hit. The international market is another beast entirely.

When I talk about Tyler Hoechlin, I want to be gentle when I say this, I don’t see him as having international superstar potential. I don’t even think that’s what he wants. And with that as a springboard, I think he’s a guy that could come out and just work locally in his little bubble and be perfectly happy the rest of his life. But I think this idea that he’s going to be this huge internationally known on the microphone star informs the image he tries to relay and ends up hurting him in the long run, especially if he lacks the ambition and desire to really go for the top spot.

I get this q once every other month, heh. Honestly if you search Hoechlin Gay on here most of my responses come up.

Here are some silly fun posts:

http://bhadpodcast.tumblr.com/tagged/top-5-gay/chrono

Also, this is mostly unrelated, but I was looking for a post of mine and found these and lol’d so hard

http://malecelebnews.com/2012/08/22/hot-couple-alert-dylan-obrien-and-tyler-hoechlin/

http://www.gaypopbuzz.com/tyler-hoechlin-gay-straight/

Again, nothing to do with anything, but I remembered this and it still make sme laugh:

http://bhadpodcast.tumblr.com/post/152910829257/they-do-and-they-are-suh-srs-lol-like-you-wanna

Umm... what were we talking about? Oh! Uhh... he’s got a ~quality?

Sigh, so even leaving out intuition, there are so many factors that point to it. Relatively isolated childhood with lots of team sports. He went to highschool, but because of acting was often home schooled or tutored. Had a very specific change of style that goes along with discovering yourself, but was a little late to the game because arrested development so we ended up seeing this first hand. Grew up kind of an ugly duckling, understands he’s a beautiful swan and knows how to use that. Has a TON of girl friends and then like.. baseball, actor “team” guy friends. Chunky rings and does his own makeup. The constant bearding. The sheer and obvious avoidance of anything TOO gay. He does this at cons a LOT, JR and Bobo will be nearly making out and Hoechs will be like PASS. He just won’t discuss, or come near it. Then there’s the whole GCC debacle and so much more.

There are just so many things that would lend themselves to him being closeted and I’m sure every single one could be twisted to him being straight, but the fact it’s so debatable is its own form of telling. Do a search for Hoechlin gay or Dylan bi, etc.

Anonymous said to bhadpodcast:My problem is people blaming Hoechlin for "the closet" and not being "honest". I get it, it's an O'Brien stan blog but he's the one with the most promising career. not Hoechlin. Blaming Hoechlin for the "closet situation" is ridiculous. O'Brien doesn't need Hoechlin to be out and proud, but no one seems to expect his coming out and Hoechlin is the messy one to blame. It's a bit easy.

This ask is baffling to me because I’m not entirely sure where you’re coming from. No one is blaming Hoechlin for a “closet situation”, I don’t know what that means.

We’ve had a lot of discussions about Dylan’s sexuality (oh, I still remember a LOVELY convo we had about his more feminine qualities and how they worked in concert with his masculine ones? So good!), but we all pretty much accept that he’s bi and in waiting. He’s with Britt and she knows and is cool and they love each other very much and the Hobriens think that if Hoechlin ever came out, Dylan would go with him and Britt would marry Julia, durr. Otherwise Brylan will get married and have a million kids. Either way we’re happy.

#hoechs in effect #a sticky minute #homo hoechlin #bi dylan #brulia ftw #a's for you q's #everyone's a little gay #it's hollywood!#top 5 gay

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