#i didn't have a smartphone at the time so i didn't know what was happening in the outside world until i got home that evening

[bia-wayne-west]

Boyfriend — Hwang Hyunjin X Reader

Summary: You are one of JYP Entertainment's makeup artists and are in a secret relationship with Hwang Hyunjin.

Warnings: Fluffy, a little smut, hot, secret dating.

A/N: This is my first k-pop imagine, I hope it's good. Remembering that I'm Brazilian and I don't speak fluent English, so please forgive any writing errors you find.

Request are open

MASTERLIST

I ran towards JYP's door, knowing I was late. My alarm clock didn't go off, and I had to take a taxi to avoid being too late.

I wished good morning to the security guard, who let me through with a smile on his face. He was really nice, and even offered to help me carry my heavy backpacks when I needed to take makeup and brushes to the car.

She had been working for JYP for three years, being the makeup artist for a single group during that time. I was assigned to Stray Kids from the first day, and I was very well received by everyone.

The boys are always very kind, and include you in conversations, they don't treat you like a robot but like another human being. I also go on tour with them, so everyone's makeup looks perfect for any occasion.

It was during one of the trips that what no one expected happened. During one night of the show, it was very cold and I hadn't brought any coat. Furthermore, I really missed my family who lived in another country. When I least expected it, Hyunjin appeared, offering me his sweater.

He sat next to me, on the floor, and started talking to me. We had already had interactions together, but this was the first time I was alone with him.

After the show, I received a turkey breast sandwich from one of the staff, with his cell phone number. We started talking a lot.

It didn't take long for Hyunjin invited me on a date, and I thought a lot before accepting. That was four months ago, and we've been dating ever since.

It's extremely confusing to date an idol, especially when you work for their company. We cannot be together in public, nor show feelings around the staff.

If anyone found out, I would be fired, and if our relationship became public, Hyunjin could be kicked out of Stray Kids.

“How are you, Y/N?” Felix said, sitting in the high chair in the makeup room. He had clips in his hair, while Hani, my professional colleague, applied foundation to his face. “Did you wake up very late?”

“My alarm clock’s fault.” I said, throwing my bag on one of the dressers. I sanitized my hand with some alcohol gel and read my schedule for the day.

I should do makeup on Changbin and Lee MinHo, and then I should only be available in case one of them needs to touch up their foundation or powder.

“Good morning, Changbin.” I said, pulling out the chair for the man to sit down. He laughed, sitting down and starting to scroll through his smartphone. “What is today's event?” I asked.

“Let's take photos for our new album, and then we can leave.” He explained.

“So, I will apply more natural makeup on you , okay?” I said, and he nodded, agreeing. I did the makeup, and after that, I met with MinHo, who talked the whole time.

After that, I sat at one of the tables in the break room, waiting for someone to need me. I bought a coffee from one of the vending machines, so my tiredness would disappear.

“Unnie?” Hani called me, with her hands crossed behind her back and a grimace on her face. “Can you do me a favour?”

“Yes.” I said, throwing the disposable cup in the trash. “What do you need me to do?”

“Can you help one of the boys in my place?” She asked. “I have to leave early today, and EunHee told me that I could only go if I finished my work.”

“Who's the last boy you have to put makeup on?”

“Hyunjin.” She said.

“Of course, I can do his makeup for you.” I said, with a small smile on my face, almost imperceptible.

“Thank you, Y/N, you are an angel.” She thanked, bowing and leaving celebrating. “I'll take you to barbecue tomorrow, as thanks.” Hani shouted at me, making me laugh.

I went to the makeup room, seeing that most of the group members were no longer present. Hyunjin was already sitting in the chair, and Felix was waiting for the hairdresser to finish fixing his hair.

“Hi.” I whispered to my boyfriend, seeing him smile when he saw me.

“Hello, jagiya.” He said, also in a low tone. “I almost celebrated when Hani told me she would ask you to do my makeup instead of her.”

The brunette threw his head back, with a wide smile. He had his hair tied up and his face clean.

“Oppa, how do you want your makeup?” I wanted to know. It was bold to be so intimate with him, but Felix knew about our relationship, as did the rest of Stray Kids, and they kept it quiet.

“Do what you think is best, beautiful.” He murmured close to me, emphasizing the final sentence. “I trust you."

“You shouldn't trust me." I commented, taking a little of the foundation of his tone and depositing it on the acrylic plate. I chose one of the sponges, starting to apply the product to his soft skin. “I could do ridiculous makeup on you.”

“It would still be good, because you made it.” He argued, making me laugh.

“Oppa, you are so cheesy.” I spoke, a little louder than I should have , attracting Felix's attention, who looked at us, laughing.

He looked at his friend, seeing that Felix was making fun of us. Hyunjin rolled his eyes, looking back at me.

“When we finish the photos, we will have the day free.” He said. “I want you to go to my apartment.” Hyunjin suggested.

“I have to finish organizing the product counter.” I explained. “ can't go today.” I whispered, looking for concealer in the drawers.

“You do this every day, and the other makeup artists take advantage of it.” He said. “No one will die if you don't wash your brushes or store your foundations. Other makeup artists never do this, they leave all the work to you. This is not just your obligation.”

“Oppa, But what if my boss gives me a warning?”

“Stop worrying, Y/N. The other staff have to clean up their own mess, instead of waiting for you to clean it up.” Hyunjin raised his eyes, looking at the ceiling as I applied concealer to his dark circles, which were barely visible. “Let's go to my apartment, I have a surprise for you.”

“It's okay, Hyunjin.”I whispered, bringing my face closer to his. “I'll come to your apartment as soon as I can leave.”

He smiled broadly.

“You won't regret it, jagiya.”

I finished the makeup, applying small layers of lip tint to his lips. I forced myself not to give him a kiss, seeing him smile at me, almost guessing my thoughts.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He thanked me, getting up from the chair and looking at me. He walked past me and sat on the couch next to Felix, starting an animated conversation with his friend.

[...]

After saying goodbye to my colleagues, I requested a taxi through the app, entering the address of the building where Hyunjin lived. It wasn't too far from the company, but it would take a long time if I walked.

I didn't have time to touch up my makeup, so I took advantage of my time in the elevator to reapply my lipstick and blush.

His apartment was on the fifteenth floor, and had an electronic door lock. Even though we had only been dating for a few months, Hyunjin told me what the password was. After entering the code, I opened the door.

The light in the living room was on, and when I entered the room, I heard the sound of water coming from the master bedroom, indicating that he was taking a shower.

“My love?” I called him, closing the door and walking to the suite bathroom. “I already arrived.”

“Honey?” He asked, and as soon as I confirmed, I heard the sound of the shower turning off. After a few seconds, the door opened, revealing my boyfriend, with wet hair and underwear.

He had a white towel in his hands, and started to dry his hair, while I sat on his bed, watching him walk around the room. Hwang went to the closet, coming back with sweatpants and a white t”shirt.

“Come closer.” He pulled me by the hand, making me stand up. I was inches away from his body.

Hyunjin closed the distance between us, pressing his soft lips against mine. My hands went towards his neck. He was a little taller than me, meaning I had to stand on tiptoe to reach him.

His mouth was wet and sweet, with the minty breath of someone who had just taken a shower. My boyfriend's left hand reached my hip, while his right went towards my face, caressing me.

I started running my fingers through his soft hair, the soft, wonderful smell of the shampoo. Hyunjin's perfume had a woody tone, with the soft scent of roses and a slightly discreet refreshment. It looked like paradise.

Reluctantly, he turned away from me, with a wide smile that made his eyes close.

“I have something for you.” He announced, pulling me into the living room. Hyunjin told me to sit down, while he went to his small painting studio, returning with a painting in hand. “I did something, and I think it might please you.” The idol smiled, shyly, handing me the painting.

It was packaged, with grass green wrapping paper and a small bow. He waited anxiously, watching me open the package.

As soon as I took out the paper, I let out a surprised sigh.

It was me.

He had painted me. Made my portrait.

It was a prettier version of me, much more beautiful than I saw myself in the mirror. Hyunjin painted me with a smile on my face, and without lipstick or eye shadow. It was so beautiful I almost couldn't stop looking at it.

“Happy four month anniversary together.” He said, making a shy face, seeming to fear that I wouldn't like the gift.

“Hyunjin...” I tried to say, but I couldn't stop admiring the beautiful way my boyfriend saw me. “ It's so beautiful...” I said, in a whisper.

“Did you like it?” He wanted to know.

“I loved.” I confessed, smiling. I placed the painting carefully on the couch, and stood up, facing my boyfriend. “But I didn't buy you anything, sorry...”

I bit my lip, feeling ashamed that I had forgotten that today was our anniversary.

“I don't need any gifts, Y/N.” He said. “You are my greatest and best gift.”

I laughed, throwing my head back.

“I’? really sorry, love.” I said, running her hand over his face.

Hyunjin held my hand, leading me to the kitchen.

“Stop it, I told you I don’t need anything.” The rapper said. I sat in the chair, watching him take dishes from the fridge. I offered help, but he refused. “The surprise is not over yet.”

“Do you have one more surprise for me?” I asked when I smelled the tasty aroma coming from the dishes.

“I cooked for you.” He announced, taking the lid off the container and showing me the food he had prepared. “Tteokbokki!” He said, proudly.

“You did that?” I asked, surprised.

He smiled, grabbing clean dishes from the cupboard. Hwang also placed two glasses and glasses on the table.

“I wanted to do something special for you, darling.” He said. “I always go to your house and eat the food you make, so I wanted to give back.”

I smiled at him, helping myself to a portion of the meal. My boyfriend also bought bottles of Soju and some wine. Because he was the oldest, he insisted on serving me the drink.

“Thanks.” II thanked him. “Everything is perfect, Hyunjin.”

I ate the first spoonful, tasting the food. He also tasted it, making a small face, usual when he liked something.

“It's so good.” I spoke.

The rapper and I finished eating, and even though I offered to wash the dishes, he forbid me from going near the sink. The brunette invited me to see a horror movie.

I sat down on the soft sofa, right next to him. Hyunjin began the horror film, adjusting himself on the upholstery. I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the idol's hand slide over my shoulder, caressing me.

We hugged for most of the movie, until he put his hand on my thigh. It was an innocent gesture, but the hair on my body stood up, and I bit my lip, deciding to stop the movie.

I pulled the rapper by the neck, making him turn towards me. I kissed him very cheerfully. He returned the gesture, taking his hand off my thigh and placing it on my face.

In a bold move, I lay down on the couch, pulling him on top of me. Hyunjin wasn't heavy, but he still stayed on his knees so he didn't put all his weight on me.

The kiss continued, and the man let his mouth roam my face, distributing kisses until he reached my neck. I wore a black tank top, which left him free to leave me with several hickeys.

I took my hand to the hem of his shirt, letting it penetrate the fabric, feeling his slim abdomen. I felt him get goosebumps from my touch, and I gave a cheeky smile when I saw that Hyunjin kissed my breasts.

Suddenly, he stopped, sitting on the sofa and taking off his t”shirt, leaving just his pants on. I smiled when I saw the red marks I had left on his skin, probably my neck was equally marked.

“We're going to miss the end of the movie.” He said, laughing.

“We can see it again tomorrow.” I spoke. “However, we would lose the ending the same way.”

The brunette came back on top of me, taking his hands to the hem of my blouse, asking permission with his eyes. I nodded, biting my lip and stretching my arms to help him with the task of getting me naked.

Hyunjin unbuttoned my dark wash jeans, and pulled them off, throwing them on the living room floor. The man looked at me, seeing that I was wearing a burgundy lingerie set.

“You are beautiful.” He said.

I smiled.

“You too, Hyun.” I said, pulling him again so that he was on top of me.

The idol's mouth went straight towards my breasts, which were still covered by the bra. I let out a low moan, caressing the back of his neck.

Hyunjin continued moving down with his lips, placing kisses down my abdomen, and stopping at my panties. He sent me a smile. To my surprise, he came towards my lips again, kissing me.

I reciprocated, letting the rapper's tongue enter my mouth.

My nails made small welts on the man's pale back, who sighed at the sensation.

“I love you.” He confessed, between the kiss.

“I love you.” I said, feeling his hand go down my body, stopping at my panties. The feeling was wonderful, and he looked at me, as if asking if he could continue with the touches. If I think, I kissed him again, authorizing Hyunjin to do whatever he wanted with my body.

#hyunjin #imagine #insert reader #fanfiction #fic #fluffy #smut #stray kids #stray kids imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #lee felix #bang chan #lee know #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut #imagine hot #fanfic #ao3 #wattpad #x reader #bangchan x reader #felix x reader #lee know x reader

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: earth 42 miles morales x spider gn reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: nokia vs. super-powered teen, who wins?

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 798 ~ part 1

"So... What did you mean "I don't want to kill you"?"

You look up at Miles from your position on his chest, then back down. How do you explain this? A spider bit you, and now you have powers. That sounded silly, didn't it? But there was no better explanation.

"Well, first off, a spider gave me these superpowers. You know, sticking to walls and stuff."

"A spider gave them to you." Miles laughs, and it definitely sounds like he doesn't believe you, "Did you swallow it in your sleep?"

"No, no," You groan, "it bit me."

"That simple? Hell," Amusement is written all over his face, and it's kind of annoying because you're being serious, "Imma have to do that myself."

"Look," You begin seriously, looking to catch his attention, "it wasn't a normal spider. I don't know what it was that made it so special but don't get yourself bitten by a venomous spider, now, I don't need you in a hospital."

"Okay, fine, but I thought the spider stuff was just part of your suit. Like you were some kind of spider-fiend." He waves his fingers to mimic spider legs.

"I'm not that good." You shrug, "You're the genius one. I designed the suit and the web-shooters, but even that was hard. Can't imagine doing it all over again." You shake the hideous thought off, "Point is, I got super-strength from it."

"How super?" Miles questions.

You sit up on the couch–much to his dismay–and say, "Do you have anything I can break?"

"Was there anything he didn't value?" was more the question. Miles thinks about it... well, the materials for his Prowler suit were very precious, and he already knew you could break those, so that was off the list. Kitchen appliances...no, his mom would kill him.

But then, there was something: his mom's old Nokia. She always said she still needed it. Just in case her smartphone broke, she had a back up. Then again, she was careful with her phone, with everything, so that was highly unlikely.

When Miles returns with the old phone, he hands it to you with doubt, "I don't know if you'll be able to break this. It's a Nokia, after all–"

Crushing it in your fist was too easy. Now, splitting it in half? That's a more garish display. It was sure to make your boyfriend speechless.

You take each end of the Nokia and bring them apart before he can even finish his sentence.

For a moment he stares, shocked, even as you place the poor phone on the coffee table and sit back to admire his expression. Honestly, it's priceless. A gaping mouth accompanied by two wide eyes that are glued to the sight of the Nokia.

"Awesome, right? Honestly, I think I could do worse things, but I've never tried–"

"Holy shit." Miles finally says. He picks both pieces of the phone in his hands to examine them.

...and just then, "Miles, I'm home!"

Miles tosses the phone back onto the table, making a loud clack! noise, whilst you push a hospital mask onto your face.

When Rio turns the corner, she gasps, "Miles... ¿qué le hiciste a mi telefono?" (what did you do to my phone?)

"I–nada, mami." (nothing, mom.)

"Ey, ¿como que nada?" She chastises, clicking her tongue, "¿Te volviste mentiroso o que?" (what do you mean, nothing? Did you turn into a liar or what?)

"Mami, ¡te lo juro! Tu sabes que nadie puede romper una Nokia tan..." This was not the right time to forget an expression, but Miles didn't know what to say. "clean como asi." (Mom, I swear! You know nobody can break a Nokia as... clean as this!)

"Y ahora vienes con tu espanglish." Rio sighs, placing a hand on her hip. "Young man, you are in trouble." (And now comes the Spanglish.)

"Mami–" (Mom–)

"(y/n)!" She finally notices you. You straighten up on the couch and hide your nervousness with a cough. "Oh, sweetheart, what happened to you?"

"Hey, Mrs. Morales, I got–I mean, I'm... sick." You muster up the loudest, longest, and most horrendous cough you have with all your being.

Rio almost seems to recoil at the sound. Regardless, she stands up straight, "I think we need to get you some medicine."

"It's fine!" You stop her before she can, waving your hands frantically. You really did not want to take a random pill or something. "Really, Mrs. Morales. I already had some."

"Then I can make you some soup. That is, if you're staying for dinner, of course." She shakes her head at herself, so inconsiderate.

You glance at Miles and he just shrugs, "Okay, sure."

When she goes to the kitchen to start up a broth, you turn back to your boyfriend. He seems relieved, because his mom was too distracted caring for you to properly find a proper punishment for him just yet, but he tenses up at the sight of your panic.

"Now I have to hide this from your mom too??"

#🌸 // success! #miles morales x reader #miles morales x gn reader #miles x reader #miles x gn reader #spider-man x reader #💞 // darlings #🎟️ // atsv #🎟️ // spider-verse #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x gn reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x gn reader #prowler x reader #prowler miles x reader #prowler x gn reader #prowler miles x gn reader #🎫 // earth 42 miles morales #🎫 // earth 42 miles #🎫 // prowler miles

[nrdmssgs]

Price comforting reader

Masterlist

Comforting series: Soap comforting reader König comforting reader

Hurt/comfort, fluff

Pairing: John Price x reader

Summary: You wake up from the nightmare, understanding, this is yet another night, when you won't be able to fall asleep again.

TW: reader has a PTSD, mentions of civilian surviving the aftermath of hostilities

AN: to my friend D. I miss you.

Third night in a row. This was becoming too much. You awoke with a heartbeat throbbing in your throat, echoing somewhere in between the temples. Only your hands clutching on a pillow are keeping your body from trembling of horror. 

White stars, sharp shards of white light descended on the city in a wide arc. You expected that the rumble of a volley was about to reach you. But there was silence all around. A deafening, painful silence. 

For others this could be a nice dream: watching the fireworks from your bedroom window. But not for you, because that window, that bedroom, that house and that part of the city were no more there.

Although it was so long ago, that you've got used to your new view out of the bedroom window, these nightmares of your previous life still haunted you. It didn't happen every single night - sometimes you even had full months without bad dreams. But they always came back sooner or later. 

This time it was particularly bad. You did everything, the doctors prescripted you to do: sport, walks before bedtime, chamomile tea with mint, medication. You even managed to start having that smartphone-free hour before bed.

Ok, to be absolutely honest: John managed to get you to put your phone down a couple of hours before bed. And all the week that he stayed with you, you repeated the same ritual. In the evening, he sat on the sofa next to you and held out his open palm.

“You know the drill, love: doomscrolling ends in a minute. One way or another. You can make it easy for yourself if you cooperate.” For the last three evenings, you didn't cooperate. But Price had his ways to make you forget, you even had a smartphone in your hand just 10 minutes earlier.

So you both did everything possible to get you relaxed and tired by the end of the day. Sadly, it didn't help.

You've slept at most 10 hours in total over the past 3 days. But what made you outrageous: John barely slept too, as he was up the very next second after you whimpered in your sleep. You still didn’t understand what happened, you didn’t wake up from a nightmare fully, and his hands were already wrapped around you.

“Sh-h-h, love, you're safe, you are safe, it's just a dream. Come on, breathe for me. Yes, just like that. Very good. Nice and deep inhale, now hold it for a few seconds and an exhale. I'm right here, you are safe with me. This won't happen ever again, I'll make sure of that.”

You tried to calm down and go back to sleep. Every time, you tried so hard, but it just didn't work. You ended up too hot, worn out with an aching head, incredibly tired and crushed by guilt as you notice dark circles under John's eyes.

So when you wake up on the third night and see John still sleeping, you sneak out of the bed and sneak into the only place that seems safe to you after such a dream. You stop in the doorway between the kitchen and the hallway and slide down the wall. Then you shrink, curl up and wrap your arms around your knees.

You don't even have enough strength to cry. Your head is killing you, and visions from the nightmare still haunt you. 

Why the hell was everything dead silent in your dream? Just like here now, at this late hour.

The bed creaked a little, and you heard John's footsteps. He found you instantly and already knew what to do. He turned on the table lamp in the next room to illuminate the surrounding space a little, but not to hit the light in your eyes. Hastily returned and sank to the floor next to you.

“Which one this time?” He asks. “The white one.”

He froze for a moment. He wished his military background would never come in handy in his domestic life. At least not in this way.

“I was standing before the window like a complete idiot. I should have run, sought for a place to hide, reach the shelter… And just stood there.” You mumble, dropping your head between your arms. 

John engulfs you, cradles your limp, exhausted body and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“I`m sorry, you must have seen it for a thousand times on your… work. It must be insignificant to you John, please go back and rest. I don't want you to hate me for depriving you of sleep because of such a trifle.”

“Under no circumstance will I ever feel anything like hate, when it comes to you.” His voice is a tad husky after waking up in the middle of the night. “Those animals doing this to you, tearing your home apart, are the ones, for whom I have hate. A lot of it.”

He pulls you closer to keep you warm. “And your health, your wellbeing, is the most important thing out there. Believe me, whatever filth I've seen on a battlefield - it pales in comparison to the mere thought that you are suffering.”

He doesn't rush you off the floor, he gives you time to recover by massaging your wrists and talking softly. John knows that his deep voice has a calming effect on you.

He periodically leans closer to whisper how much he loves you and how much he appreciates every minute spent next to you. Even such a minute when you are both exhausted and sitting on the hard, cold floor.

He rejects all your offers for him to go to sleep alone.

“Go sleep knowing, that you are here in such a state? Not going to happen.”

He takes you to the couch, brings you water, and watches the first lights of the dawn with you. You tuck your face in the crook of his neck and let your worries gradually dissolve.

Maybe this is not the last bout of insomnia in your life. But from now on, you are sure, you'll always John by your side.

#cod #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #john price fanfic #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price #john price #john price mw2 #cod mw2 #john price x y/n #cod mwii #cod x you #cod x y/n #captain price x you #captain price x reader #captain price imagine #captain price #captain price fluff

[champagnedrink]

📻 [The photo of the radio demon in a device with the newest technology that Vox released!?] 📻

📻

Everyone at the hotel knew you were a technology junkie and wondered how Alastor could have even fallen in love with you if he hated the latest stuff.

You had recently purchased a new smartphone and your boyfriend was not entirely happy with you. Annoying to say the least when you came running into the hazbin hotel waving your hand up and breathing the same way an athlete would do after running the same marathon you had done to be the first to get that gadget.

"Y'ALL I HAVE SOME NEW GOOD GOOD NEWS!! LOOK AT THIS PRECIOUS THING!!"

Charlie shared the excitement with you, immediately approaching you to check your cell phone, she left Vaggie in charge that she had better things to do, Niffty and Angel Dust accompanied her with curiosity. Husk was being the same alcoholic as always but he turned to look at you to try to distinguish what you wanted to show so much

"That was the thing you wanted to show so much? You were the first to get it!!? Let me see it, let me see it!"

"That's a new one pussy, got luck if it gets stuck or falls off your hands"

Alastor watched suspiciously from a few steps behind Angel Dust

"Dear, I think you should throw that away"

he replied as curtly as he could.

"Why? Look at this! It can take spectacular selfies!!"

"Haha! No no no, very soon it will break because of how delicate and... Disgusting, those artifacts are, nothing to talk about sweetheart"

He frowned evilly without losing his smile and walked away as fast as he could, he had no intention of approaching you until you threw that out of his sight, you turned to the group behind you and it gave you an idea, maybe you could take a photo of him unawares... You didn't know how the dynamics of glitching worked, any camera in which Alastor could appear, he would have to realize it for him to use his power, right?

All afternoon you spent trying to get his attention so that your plans went unnoticed. The story was getting too long and after Alastor ignored you for most of that day, you decided to talk about the situation with your small group of hotel staff, you ran to the terrace where Alastor was calmly drinking some weird drink on his cup, before approaching with the excuse of have something with him

"Would you mind spending more time with your wife?"

"Of course darling. After all it's about time you let go of that pathetic device that can't give you the same entertainment as me!"

He said proudly, seconds after sitting in front of him a *Click* was heard! And that sound along with the flash that illuminated Alastor's face was enough to make you shake with nerves

"You made a very serious mistake, my little sweet pathetic thing."

The next thing that happened was that you flew towards the paved floor of the main entrance of the hotel, elongated black tentacles holding you in place so that Alastor increased the size of him and showed those horns that scared you so much

"Very good try love, you almost made it, but you forgot that this face was made for radio"

Everyone heard the big scandal and ran out to see (They knew that the idea you had started was the worst you had ever thought of)

He wrapped a thick chain around your neck and pulled you towards him, but not before causing his own strength to break the cell phone you had in your hand. They dragged you into the hotel and you knew what was waiting for you.

What did you have to do to earn Alastor's forgiveness?

Having deleted the photo of his face that you kept in your gallery, it had come out blurry but you could distinguish his features, was it worth it? Ask yourself, now you owed him a debt of trust

📻

You gave him a little more than your body... And your soul.

#vox the tv demon #alastor #vaggie #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel angel dust #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel niffty

[into-crazy]

nights like this

Ledger!Joker x Reader drabble

Summary: You climb into bed with J for some snuggles.

Warnings- none, J style fluff, ages 18+

I was in the mood for this, so I wrote it. Who doesn't love a little soft J every once in a while, right?

It had been an extremely exhausting past couple of weeks for Joker. He came very close to being captured by the Batman, and he'd done everything in his power to make sure that didn't happen. So when he was certain that he was finally in the clear, he came straight home to you.

J has been asleep for hours since he's been back. He was extremely exhausted and went straight to bed after he ate. It's currently half an hour until midnight, and he'd arrived earlier in the afternoon. So he's been out for some time. You gave him time to recover, seeing how this is the first time he's properly eaten and slept in days. However strong and incredibly stubborn as the man is, his mind and his body can only take on so much before he needs a break.

You always take care of him when he comes back. Such as checking his body for injuries, making sure he gets cleaned up, preparing him something to eat, and anything else that he needed. Now of course, J never made you do these things. You do them because you want to. Because you care about him. He accepts the things you do for him, and he doesn't take advantage of your caring nature. Not that you would allow him to, which is one of the many traits he likes about you.

While J slept, you'd tidied up around the place and used a good amount of your time to relax. Doing what you would normally like to do when you have the chance. It was relaxing, and you felt much better knowing that J was home. But eventually, you began to miss him. Even though he was right in the other room, you couldn't help but start to feel lonely. After all, it had been a few weeks since you've had any form of intimacy together. And you wanted to make up for that. Taking into account that he's still sleeping, you decide to just get into bed and cuddle up next to him.

The bedroom is dark as you walk in. Your eyes gradually adjust to the darkness while you tiptoe your way over to the bed. You find J widely sprawled out on his back under the covers. His soft snores indicate that he's probably in a deep state of sleep.

It had taken a long time for J to get comfortable and trusting enough to fall into a deep sleep around you. In fact, you can still recall the very first time that he did. Treasuring that moment forever in your heart, as it officially established his complete trust in you. So now when he goes to sleep he relies on you to watch over him. That is the only case in which he'll be able to get a good amount of rest. He's made it very clear that when one of you is asleep, the other is awake. Under no circumstances will he go to sleep at the same time as you. Because then no one would watch over either of you, and that would put you both in a vulnerable position.

Regardless, you have no intention on going to sleep. You only want to lay next to him, to be close and feel his warm presence. However, as a precaution, you set an alarm for thirty minutes from now on your smartphone. Just in case you happen to doze off.

You slip off your bottoms and toss them to the side. Left in your shirt and panties, you move carefully under the covers. Trying not to wake J in the process. You slide yourself in the area directly under his arm, getting as close to him as you possibly can. Luckily, your movements don't seem to disturb him one bit. He must really be out cold. Since you've made it this far, you use this opportunity to wrap your arm around his torso. That way, you can hold on to him.

After making yourself comfortable, you let out a sigh of relief. Finally. It was an effort well worth it.

You look up at J's face and simply stare at him. He had taken a shower recently, so his face is without his signature makeup. His scars are even more visible when he doesn't have all that paint covering them. You can't help but find them to be even more beautiful every time you see them. His body is warm, and he smells so good. Even after using your cleansing products does he still retain his own distinct scent somehow. You hope it'll always stay that way. Moving your hand to his chest, you can feel it steadily rising and falling with every breath he takes. You close your eyes and bask in his peaceful embrace. With every passing second, your chest swells with enormous amounts of love and adoration that you have for him.

J has never told you he loves you. But you'd like to think that somewhere inside of him he feels something close to love. And that's good enough for you.

You press your nose into him in attempt to feel him even closer. Holding him tighter and wishing your body could melt into his own. Your movements seemed to have roused him from his deep slumber. Shifting and stretching his limbs as he awakens.

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times before looking around and then down at you. "Mm, hello there."

"Hi J." You smile up at him.

"How long have I been out?" He yawns deeply at the end of his question. His voice deep and husky from sleep.

You trace your finger along his chest. "A few hours. Seven or eight, maybe. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to climb in bed with you."

"Missed me that much, huh?" J laughs. He doesn't mind that you're here with him. In fact, he likes feeling you pressed against him like this. It's been a while since he's felt you too, after all. He nudges you playfully, "don't go falling asleep on me yet, doll. I'm gonna need another hour or two."

"I won't. I only wanted to hold you for a bit. A few more minutes then I'll get up, I promise." You assure him. "Go ahead and get some more sleep. I know you need it."

J hums and closes his eyes. Moving his arm to wrap around you better, so that he can hold you more comfortably. His hand rubs comfortingly up and down your back a couple times before resting there.

You lay still in his grasp as he falls back to sleep. Head resting cozily on his chest, listening to the harmony of his breathing and the beating of his heart. Sounds you love hearing together. It's not every day you get to hear them. So you capture every bit of it that you can. Nights like these are ones you hold on to. They're where you feel at peace. The only downside is that you know that you'll have to get up eventually. That sooner or later J will get up, and eventually leave again. There will be nights where you get to lay like this, and some where you won't. As it has always been. That's what it's like loving the Joker.

But for right now, you don't want to think about eventually. You'll just bask in the warmth of this moment. Staring off into the darkness, in the safety of J's arms.

#into-crazy #heath ledger joker #tdk joker #the dark knight joker #ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x y/n #joker x reader #joker x y/n #ledger!joker #ledger joker #the dark knight #fanfic

[kittyyeo]

No bc I somehow just can’t stop thinking about the fact that ateez keeps saying Mingi had “Tsundere vibes” in the beginning bc like…I know he’s not like that anymore but just imagine Mingi actually being in love with you but he’s trying to not show it and even tho you’re friends he’s kinda mean to you all the time, until the point you’re actually wondering if he even likes you as a friend and then he’s just all over you to prove that he actually very much likes you…idk it’s just ahh I can’t get it out of my head

OOF....... WAIT BC- ok this might be a whole damn mess but oOof anon i like u

[MDNI | NOT proofread]

Oof imagine you and mingi are coworkers at an office and his desk is like... Right in front of yours so you basically see each other every single day. You slowly start to get closer to him but suddenly you can feel some sort of shift... And you don't know if it's a good thing or not.

Mingi cannot understand when it all started: how was it possible? He never really had any similar thoughts before... So why? Why did he find himself all of a sudden thinking of you at the most random times? How come he started to throw glances at you whenever you were not looking? Why did he feel himself worry whenever he heard you sigh deeply because of some annoying task you were assigned last minute?

Mingi couldn't get it. At all. Or maybe he didn't want to. He couldn't really process these feelings that well anyway.

And that's when he started to just be mean to you: his replies would be so damn sarcastic, his eyes would look at you with annoyance in them, and he even changed his whole schedule just to be able to arrive at the office before you, have his lunch break at a different time than you, and leave the office with some other colleague.

What happened?

All of a sudden, you found yourself wondering what did you do wrong. Why did he start being so mean with you? Why would he avoid eye contact with you the whole time? When did he even change this drastically?!

Mingi, on the other hand, was getting worse and worse at handling this damn feeling. He was confused, how the hell did he feel his heart beat so fast whenever you were around? How could he even look you in the eyes when the previous night he touched himself at the thought of you and even let out a really embarrassing moan while saying your name? How could he even stay in the same room as you when his mind would constantly come up with images of his hands exploring your beautiful body, caressing your sweet skin, his lips marking, sucking and biting you everywhere?

He couldn't. He was breaking, yet the only way he knew how to handle this was by... Avoiding you. Maybe this way all this weight would have been lifted off his shoulders?

... No. Not at all. It got heavier, way heavier. And it reached a breaking point right when you decided to talk to him one evening after a long, tiring day at the office.

"Mingi... We need to talk."

He looks at you for a second, his eyes moving back to the screen of his smartphone, uninterested. The two of you were commuting back home, it was quite a coincidence for you to live in the same neighbourhood. He actually used to be of great company on your way to and back from work, but in the past few weeks you weren't even able to see him.

"Mingi..."

"I'm listening." - he replies, his eyes not brave enough to meet yours. You sigh, crossing your arms and looking away for a moment.

"Did I do something? You changed completely, you know. And I have no idea what I've done. If you hate me just say so, at least I won't be trying to talk to you anymore." - you mumble, his eyes finally meeting yours just for him to notice how emotionally wrecked you were by this messy situation he put you in.

He quickly looks at you, his hand swiftly tossing his phone in his pocket, his hand now on your arm, imperceptibly rubbing it, his thumb moving in soothing circles. He says nothing, the second you arrived at your spot he drags you and walks past your home.

You guessed he wanted to talk about it properly in the privacy of his apartment.

Yet, he wasn't making any sense. His hands fumble with the keys of his apartment but he was finally able to open the door and let you in. The moment the two of you removed your shoes, he began to talk. You wish he shut the hell up for once, though.

"I really can't stand this, you know." - he mumbles, annoyance dripping off his lips.

"Why?"

"It's so annoying. Everything you do is so annoying. Why? Even just seeing you sit there, in front of my desk, makes me so damn mad."

"So I'm the annoying one? I'm annoying?! Not you, with your stupid attitude, always staring at me but the second I try to talk to you, you suddenly have to go run errands everywhere—"

He interrupts you.

"Yes. Yes you are so damn annoying. You and your annoying voice always so bubbly and happy, greeting everyone and—"

You sit next to him, your cheeks felt like they were going on fire.

"Shut the hell up, Mingi. You used to be so nice to me! What the fuck happened?!"

"How the hell would I know?! You're just... There. And suddenly you became the prettiest person I've ever seen, this is so damn annoying I—"

You wanted to interrupt him once again, yet your words died on the tip of your tongue.

What?

"So you say this yet you treat me like shit at work, make it make sense, Mingi!"

You huff, getting more and more annoyed.

You look at him, your eyes focusing on every single detail of his face. Well, you have to admit you've always found him quite interesting and attractive, but you never thought he struggled this bad to express interest towards you. The thought let many mixed feelings fill your mind.

"You're quite something." — you move closer to him, positioning yourself on his legs, your hands reaching his neck and letting him look right into your eyes.

"Say it clearly. It's so stupid of you to treat me this way."

He doesn't even try to fight back. That weight was finally lifted off his shoulders, although he never thought it would happen that way.

"I like you."

"Then prove it, dumbass."

You click your tongue, shaking your head as you look at him. His eyes widen, his hands quickly reaching your hips.

"I very much like you, though." - he mumbles, his plump lips curling into a light pout. You're still not giving up, inviting him to go on with a light nod.

"You're so damn hot, you literally drive me crazy." — he mumbles, his lips tracing your jaw, leaving kisses one after the other. Your hands are now distractedly caressing his soft hair.

"I love your lips..." — he kisses the corner of your lips — "I always think about you..." — his hands were slowly caressing your body and you moved your shirt, letting his cold fingers gently touch your warm skin — "so nice to everyone. So nice to me..."

"And you're such an idiot, sometimes." — you add, giggling. He just nods at your comment, his half lidded eyes admiring you. He bites his lip and closes his eyes the moment your fingers hold his hair and tug, delicately, just so his lips could meet yours in a passionate, messy kiss. His hands come back to your hips and pull you closer, letting your clothed heat brush against his bulge. You started to grind on him, a groan reaching your ears from the back of his throat.

"Need you." — he whines under his breath, your tongue caressing his lip.

He was such a mess. You were such a mess. Yet both you and him were absolutely enjoying the attention you were giving each other.

It was surprising to see how easily the situation changed, from being so annoyed to literally making out with him. But hey, his lips were so sweet you got addicted right away.

#ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #ateez x reader #ateez smut #kpop smut #mingi hard thoughts #mingi hard hours #mingi x reader #.mingi.

[valeriefauxnom]

Unintentional Comedy - Dragalia and Feh Artwork Edition

So, remember Alfonse, from FEH?

Y'know, this dude?

For an okay crutch for those without Gala Euden or Albert or other handy light swords they didn't want to invest in, he was rather popular, only partly owed to any pre-established fondness FEH players had since they already knew him. People liked the more expanded personality we got than FEH's bare-bones story, additionally before they started trying to spice Alfonse up in more recent books.

In his story, however, one of the events that happening is Euden falling off a cliff, shortly followed by Alfonse.

Miraculously, cliff-falling isn't quite as dangerous in Dragalia Lost as in real life (also demonstrated by Leonidas in Stranded Scions, etc...), and the two survive. Alfonse has some sort of injury to his foot, however, conveniently hampering his ability to move but not much else.

Euden, being Euden and unwilling to throw anyone to the wolves, comes up with this idea:

Nothing atypical here, right?

...Well, as it was revealed in a book published two years later than his debut in Dragalia, Fire Emblem Heroes Character Illustrations, Volume 1...

Alfonse is 180cm tall, AKA 5'11.

...Is it any surprise coming from 195cm/6'5 and 180cm/5'11 parents? Someone check the Askran royal food for steroids that Sharena has apparently not been consuming, presumably because she's instead dining with heroes in the barracks.

I digress.

Now, as I've gone over before here, here's where it gets hilarious in retrospect.

In short, Ranzal, the resident big buff burly dude of Dragalia...is stated to be 6'1/185 in the joke comics.

...And while literally nobody else got an even vaguely-official number to their height, Dragalia instead opting for a 'comparison heights' to keep track of who's shorter and who's taller in a pair... Euden often seems to wind up in the 150-155cm/5'0-5'1 range or even shorter when in illustrations with Ranzal:

At most, I've seen him crack about 5'9/175cm in the comics, which aren't exactly a stable source of art, as demonstrated by these two panels, in which both seem to be on flat ground and standing pretty straight:

I need to stop before I mindlessly repeat the other post, but my point remains:

Euden, by most depictions, is tiny. A literal short prince/king.

And yet, no matter what way you slice it, he's trying to carry a dude that seems to be quite a bit taller, let's say. How much, we'll never know, but the fact remains he'd likely need to pull out a dragon phone to search 'how to carry people much taller than you?' just in case and hurriedly read a wikihow 10-step article explaining some strats, were it not for the fact that dragons would have destroyed smartphones in Dragalia a long time ago (good move, dragons....?).

I will admit that there are a few arts that frame them as the 'same height' but I would more point to the fact Euden, when drawn with crossover characters for promotional art, is usually portrayed on an 'equal footing', so as not to have one take up more space/attention. Also, the Feh team might not have even decided on a height for Alfy boy before!

Even then, he's still portrayed as shorter than 5'9/175cm Joker in some art:

So yeah. Crossover art is not exactly consistent, and all I can do is look to the general trend in the 'canon game' of him being absolutely dwarfed by Ranzal.

Now, it's one thing for Euden to be lugging about Alfonse for a while.

The idea he might have done so with such a potential height disparity is pure comedy.

No wonder he's so tired after a while, lugging about another human who is both taller, heavier, and also wearing armor!

Not only that, he later tries and partly succeeds in fighting heavily armored soldiers (who are admittedly aiming to capture him and kill Alfonse) with Alfonse 'draped across his back like a sack of potatoes'. Talk about determination, adrenaline, and/or the simple principle of 'small but mighty'!

Maybe that's why Alfonse was saying "I don't think that's wise" at the start there before he quickly found other rationale besides 'you sure you can give a piggyback without my feet dragging along the ground the whole way?'

My case rests, Your Honor: they unintentionally made part four of Alfonse's personal story a lot funnier to envision by publishing an art book 2 years after he first existed in Dragalia Lost!

#dragalia lost #fire emblem heroes

[thedeliverygod]

The Final Chapter of Noragami

I'll start off by saying no matter what, this is my favorite manga/anime series. It'll always be near and dear to my heart. And thank you again to @fast-moon who has put so much time in effort into this series so that we would be able to read it in English ASAP.

But here are my honest thoughts, below the cut

There are far too many open ends. As a writer and a fan, I get that it's good to leave things pretty open ended and give fans a chance to explore possibilities. But there was too much here.

Something that struck me during my read of the translation (as I read the raws about an hour beforehand) was the absence of Nana. Arahabaki and Shiho are at the hanami, why not her? Especially since she's got a bond with Bishamon as well.

Is Nora just a free agent, doing whatever she wants? We see that Yukine still has his Hagusa name, so clearly she would still have Mizuchi. And we know Yato can't re-name her. Does she spend time with Yato and Yukine at Kofuku's house? Is she Yato's secret agent in watching over Hiyori? lol

Kazuma is the only one (aside from Nana) who survived the God's Greatest Secret without being named with the koto no ha. How is he dealing with it? Is he also having nightmares like Yukine?

Yato being 'saved' by going viral is a bit dumb especially because the posts are like "wow this guy is doing like a 10 year old meme lame" etc so it didn't seem like it should have blown up much anyway? and he also says no one actually remembers 'him'/uses his name just Teke-Teke so how does that... actually help Yato? Granted he didn't die and he has a smartphone now but I feel like he would... actually have to really be acknowledged to get money and have a shrine other than Hiyori's shrine (which btw what happened to THE DAMN SHRINE??? its on the cover but the chapter??? absent)

"I'll give you all of me" and dramatic crying/kiss but then Yato just seems so... detached. granted I KNOW it's because of the near shore/far shore and he doesn't want to endanger her again and just looks over her and it's a trope that's been in a million fanfics including mine but it just feels so off and bluh to NOT GET ANY RESOLUTION OTHER THAN HIYORI JUST RECOGNIZING HIM and then a line in the journal about how he tried to play it off.

I can't even think of everything tbh there's just a lot I want answered that wasn't...

I would say the best part of this chapter was the stuff about Fujisaki. It finally answered that he was 'born' with Father present inside of him and they kind of switched back and forth. Although again that leaves the question of how much was Fujisaki and how much was Father in terms of hitting on Hiyori/how much did Fujisaki know about Father's antics. I also love that Yato still hates him anyway even without Father LOL

lastly father was this giant cataclysmic force in Yato's life for literally over a thousand years and he's finally free. and we really get no reaction in regards to that. And that is especially disappointing when it's a major theme of the manga as a whole, you know?

idk that's my piece for now. I'm sure I'll have more to say in the coming days/weeks/months/etc but I hope and pray there's maybe any sort of small addition to the tankobon release.

it did mention "please look forward to adachitoka's next work" but I think that was just like a publishing nicety. I think noragami's ending was rushed due to their ongoing health problem and/or pressure from the publishers and I honestly don't see them coming out with a new series any time soon.

#noragami #noragami spoilers #noragami final chapter spoilers

[earlgreytea68]

Many years ago now, when I was a very unhappy and depressed lawyer, I went to see a therapist. The therapist diagnosed that I was suffering from severe levels of stress and asked me to keep a "stress journal": for the week between appointments, I was to write down whenever I felt my stress spike.

When I returned to the next appointment with my stress journal, the therapist was shocked I'd actually done the assignment. He said nobody actually keeps a physical journal. I suspected that maybe he didn't fully understand my personality type and the fact that some of my stress was the result of PEOPLE ASKING ME TO DO THINGS THEY APPARENTLY DIDN'T ACTUALLY WANT ME TO DO BUT I WAS RESPONSIBLY DOING THEM BECAUSE THAT'S HOW I AM.

Anyway, I digress, that's not the point of the story. The point was that when we looked together at my stress journal, we diagnosed that a recurrent source of spiking stress was receiving an email. This was so many years ago that it was before the smartphone, in the age of the BlackBerry, and every time my stupid BlackBerry vibrated, my stress skyrocketed. Having figured that out, the therapist was like, "What happens if you miss an email for an hour?" And that was hard to articulate. Probably nothing, tbh. Like, realistically I could go without checking my email if I was too busy with work, so why couldn't I when I was home watching TV? So the therapist suggested I confine my email checking to a set schedule. Only at the appointed times would I check my email and deal with whatever had come in.

And you know what? The world never ended, and it WAS a huge relief not to feel like I had to immediately be available for every email. To this day, my work email does NOT come to my phone and I only check it at my appointed times of day. (Actually, I resisted getting a smartphone until very late because after I left the law firm I thought the most glorious thing in the world was PEOPLE COULDN'T REACH ME.)

Anyway, I was thinking about all that today because I had a bad day at work and I realized that I was dreading checking my email and it just made me think that I have lingering issues around email. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I was like, ...no, I probably have lingering issues around WORK because of that job experience I had. Like, was it really about what emails I might have, or was it because I spent the day feeling manipulated in an unpleasant way that made me wary and suspicious of certain things around me, and then THAT made me think, like, I was overreacting because of the way that previous job experience was and the fact that the way it manipulated and abused me will never actually fully leave me, but THEN I was like, OR is it that I honed excellent instincts for that kind of situation happening and I should listen to myself when I feel that way, or or or--

Which is all to say that I wonder sometimes how I would have developed as a professional had I not had that career experience so early on in my life. But then I am in a weird way grateful for it, not because it forever kind of messed up my head in some ways but because I learned SO MUCH about those messed-up situations. Like, it was awful, don't get me wrong, but I did learn a bunch of coping mechanisms I still use today. Like limiting my email exposure. And I think I am warier than a lot of other people I know who didn't go through a workplace that mentally abused you the way that mine did, but I'm not so sure that's a terrible thing. I think it makes me touchy about work-life boundaries and i think there are way worse things to be in our capitalist society.

And also, every once in a while I think about the fact that I didn't think I was going to make it through those years but I did and I am pretty proud of myself for that, so also that. I made it through the other side when I honestly for real didn't think that I would, and every once in a while I have a day that reminds me of how I felt all the time back then, and it makes me remember to be grateful how many days I've gotten to have without that feeling.

#personal #stress #therapy #work

[katapotato55]

How to write a good metaphor

yall seemed to like my post on "how to write good horror" so i figured i should make another one of these.

1- do. not. explain. the. metaphor.

don't.

"oh but how will the audience know my deep and meaningful message- "

SOME PEOPLE WONT GET IT. if you explain what you mean then suddenly the metaphor won't be deep anymore. it becomes a generic forced message.

i know you are tempted to make a character infodump about everything, fucking don't.

followup on this:

2- a good metaphor should potentially have multiple interpretations.

"but i don't want people to get the wrong impression of the story!"

then you either need to make damn sure its an elegantly written metaphor, or none at all. the death of the author is the idea that everyone has their own vision of a story they read, rearguards of authors intent. you need to come to terms with this or else you won't improve your writing skills.

you need to trust that your audience is intelligent enough to understand the metaphor on their own without bashing them over the head with it. sometimes people misunderstand meaning, it is a fact of life.

The game little inferno was thought of as a metaphor about pollution, in which later the creators went out to say it was actually about capitalism and wasting your life with things like exploitative mobile games. you just need make it SUBTLE and hope for the best.

3- The story/gameplay/etc should inform the metaphor(and sometimes reference real life examples)

To mention little inferno again, the "you must wait x amount of time for in-game item to be given to you" is a mirror of mobile games in the real world that use timers to leach money from you.

another example: analogue horror.

broken old technology is scary on its own, but many good analogue horror artists tend to use this to the advantage.

analogue horror can be used as a metaphor for dying trends and technology, like how in the 30's through 70's we used asbestos in the walls. Analogue horror makes a great parralel to this idea (see Blue_channel by gooseworx for a good example.) . the audience questions WHY this is on an old CRT tv and not just a smartphone, perhaps to imply this was an event that happened years ago.

undertale is another example, where most RPG's encourage you to fight and to level up, undertale uses this as a simple metaphor about obsessive control and being cruel to get an arbitrary achievement (i recommend the escapist's video on "why i didn't review undertale" on youtube for way better examples)

tldr: a metaphor is stronger if you lightly reference real life occurances and implement your metaphor in the medium presented.

4- the curtains are blue because they are blue.

not everyone is going to understand your metaphor

and not everyone is going to notice every single little metaphor you add to your story.

remember those teachers that would constantly stretch to imply something in a story is a metaphor and that the curtains are blue because of some deep metaphor for death and sadness and shit?

those teachers are full of it. ignore them.

metaphors are allowed to be simple. not every metaphor needs to be a hyper deep depth defying world changing thing. I could even argue a bunch of small metaphors connected to each other can be better than one big metaphor depending on your story.

relax. don't think too much about it because your average audience member won't.

5- study movies, tv, books, games, etc and understand why their metaphors work.

don't fall into that "the curtains are blue because of a deep message" English teacher mindset mind you.

"but how do i tell what is and isn't a metaphor?" you may ask

simple. trust your gut. you won't understand everything you come across but the human brain has a way of telling what is and isn't a metaphor in stories.

(spoiler about bugsnax)

I could argue Bugsnax is a metaphor about drug abuse and addiction. The characters have personality traits commonly associated with people vulnerable to drug addiction. An athlete, a hippy, a married couple going through a rough spot in their marriage with the threat of divorce, a mentally ill person with trauma and paranoia, etc.

It isn't obvious, many people may disagree with me, but you can't deny that there are signs i may be right.

(end of spoiler) the point i am trying to make: don't stretch to find a metaphor when you don't see one. if you are curious google other people's theories and make your own opinion. metaphors are hard and you will learn over time. and finally 6- do not ever do "it was all just a dream" or "the character is secretly in a coma" etc this applies to writing in general but it is still related to metaphors. the only time i have seen this done well is driver san francisco, but what it did right was A- make it so the players can guess ahead of time the mystery, such as the radio saying voices of your character in the hospital, or if you zoomed out you could hear a heart monitor. and B- it didn't completely un-do the entire story. that is my core issue with this trope. it either wastes your time un-doing the entire story readers worked hard to finish, or it is just nonsensical and terrible. "dora the explorer is actually in purgatory!" "spongebob is a metaphor for the 7 deadly sins!" "ash is in a coma and that is why he never ages! " ooooor it is a cartoon and you are forcing meaning that doesn't exist in something that doesn't even imply it. the world being a bit weird is not enough to be a metaphor for anything. If you want to make a good metaphor: do more effort than just slapping a lazy "it was all a coma" thing at the end. Like horror, stuff like this needs to be built up properly. also consider authors intent. I understand death of the author and all of that, but do you really think a retired marine biologist made spongebob to be a complex metaphor about sinners in hell ? (rip Stephen Hillenburg btw. we didn't deserve him.) thank you for reading, hope this helps. and please, learn to understand the tropes of metaphors before you attempt to make the story of a generation. edit- adding a couple more things i forgot 7- "the darkness is going to destroy the land or whatever!" i see this used all the time. spooky wookey dark shadowy bits going to destroy a land and is the hero's generic bad thing to fight. stop it. it is not a deep and complex metaphor about depression or whatever the hell you are on about. its lazy and stupid. 8- a story should stand up on its own regardless if audience members understand the metaphor or not I don't like Gris. it is a very pretty game with lovely visuals But also the entire story is just the main character moping about artistically and shit and go on about how artistically sad and dramatic this all is. if i don't understand the story without understanding the metaphor, then your story and your metaphor sucks. an example of a metaphor done well: spiritfairer without the metaphor, it is a simple game about running a traveling boat. even if you didn't care too much about the deeper meaning it is a cute story and the gameplay is fun (spoiler) if you look deeper, it can also be taken as a metaphor about greif and learning to accept your loved ones will one day die. things like the boat being filled with empty houses you can't remove is a good example of this. (end of spoiler) your story needs to stand up on its own to be good. don't use a metaphor as a crutch.

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #classic horror #horror #analogue horror #bugsnax #little inferno #zero punctuation #creative writing #fanfiction #fanfic #film #comics #videogames #movies #bad writing #bad writing advice #metaphors #metaphor

[thebigoblin]

play stupid games

tags: Established Relationship, Alpha Derek Hale, Attempt at Humor, Cheesy, Fluff, Derek Hale is a Softie, Implied Sexual Content

a/n: inspired by a reel on instagram. and the title is from Taylor's song "Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince."

read on ao3

The tabs opened on his chrome browser make no sense. Not one bit. But he supposes that's just a representation of his own mind, and his morbid curiosity, and whose fault is that, really? No one's. Perhaps his mom's — but no more than it's his dad's to have given him his obsession with everything non-sensical. His dad just has to find patterns, and really, maybe his entire problem is that he is the combination of two very weirdly specific people.

What was he working on, again?

He squints at the tabs. There's too many of them, the edges stuck together so close it's like one long continuous tab instead, but he can see the lines between them, even if deciphering which tab is what is proving difficult. He could have used separate windows, but oh no, all sane ideas come to him after things are said and done.

Seriously, what was he working on?

"What are you working on?"

"What the fuck!"

The sound of another person in the room, so close to his ear, hot breath on the left side of his neck, has him jumping and flailing on his desk chair.

Rough and familiar hands grab him so that he doesn't brain himself against the floor by falling right off the chair, and he curses, because this is his life.

Once he's sitting straight, he glares up at the smirking asshole beside him. "Fuck you," he says, with feeling. "I'm giving you a bell for Christmas!"

Derek's lips tick upwards, like ha ha, that's funny. Funny that Stiles thinks he could get away with that. "My birthday gift has to be something good, then."

"I'll show a good gift!"

"That's what I am saying, Stiles."

"Ugh, you're fucking annoying." He's still glaring up at Derek, the angle not kind to his neck, so he looks back down at the screen. Derek just moves closer, a line of heat against his side that has Stiles' anger nearly melting off, but no! He'll persist.

Distraction. Yes. That is what he needs, so he clicks his mouse rather aggressively and moves the arrow to one of the tabs randomly. The title of it hovers over the tab as he does so, and Stiles wonders what could have prompted him to look at a YouTube video of making a DIY skirt from old clothes.

"You would look good in a short red skirt." Derek says this right into his left ear, his lips moving along his skin, from the top of his ear to the bottom of it, and because he's obnoxious, Derek bites his earlobe, too.

"Go away!" He slaps at Derek's chest, but his boyfriend only laughs at his half-hearted attempts. "Nuh uh, you're distracting me and I- I have work!"

"What work?"

Stiles doesn't really remember.

"You forgot, didn't you?" Derek just laughs some more, his hands wrapping around Stiles' shoulders, and Stiles pouts. "Search something for me."

"You have your own smartphone and internet, Distractingwolf!"

"But I also have you," Derek states this, a smile in his voice, and hey, it's true.

Stiles rolls his eyes and mutters, "Sap," before asking, "What?"

"I want to check something, but there's a condition."

Stiles cocks his eyebrow, just like Derek does. He's been spending too much time with Derek, and it's because of shit like this: Derek likes to climb the side of the Sheriff's house, get inside the Sheriff's barely-legal son's bedroom, and spend time either glaring at Stiles, pushing him onto surfaces like the door and walls and the bed and kissing him, or making him do random internet searches that 99% of the time happens to be information of a new supernatural creature they have to deal with.

Point is, Stiles has been spending too much time with Derek, and he loves it a fucking lot.

"Condition, huh? You getting kinky on me, Sourwolf?"

Derek moves around his chair so that his bulging biceps and sexy, veiny arms — that he knows are there below the leather jacket and the henley because he's seen his boyfriend shirtless, even if unfortunately they haven't wandered down to pantless situations — brackets him between the desk and the chair. The movement also pushes his chair further towards the desk, just a little, and Derek's chin rests on top of Stiles' hair.

"Maybe." Stiles' whole body shivers at the thought of it. They haven't had sex, but Stiles yaps about it, thinks about it often. Wants to take Derek in his mouth, wants Derek to have his way with him. He wants, and wishes, for Derek to be inside him — pound him so hard he forgets what life is, just for a moment or two or more. He's seen the alpha strength, and it's too much. Perfect. "Stiles."

"You can't blame a guy for wanting to have sex with his hot werewolf boyfriend," he retorts, huffing at the reprimand. "I can wait until you are ready, and I will, but I can think about it, can't I?"

Derek doesn't answer him, just puts his hand over Stiles' on the mouse and moves it the way he likes it. Stiles wants to be that, a ragdoll under Derek's ministrations, and nope, he can't pop a boner right now. He wants sex, but he respects Derek. But he's also a healthy ninetenn-year-old young man, and there goes his dick in his sweatpants, chubbing up like a balloon being filled with air.

Derek opens up a new window and goes to Google, his free hand coming to rest on Stiles' thigh. Stiles' breath hitches.

"Stiles," Derek's voice is low, his sex-voice. They've never done handjobs, or blowjobs, or any real dick-on-dick or hand-on-dick or mouth-on-dick action, but they have done phone sex, and about 50% of Stiles' brain, at this point, is filled with how Derek sounds when he's turned on, commanding. Close to coming, post-pleasure. Stiles knows this voice, too.

"You don't have to do anything you're not ready to," Stiles says, and he means it. Derek's head dips down and he kisses Stiles on the neck, a silent acknowledgement — Derek knows Stiles won't force him. It's okay.

"You always say 'hot werewolf boyfriend.' Not just 'hot boyfriend.' Why."

"Inflection, alpha, that's a thing." Derek pinches his thigh, and Stiles lets out a small sound at the sudden action, then grins. "You are a hot werewolf." He turns his head, pulls with his own free hand, his left hand, the one not trapped beneath Derek's on the mouse, and has Derek's head turn towards him. He kisses him, sure once, sure twice, and third time just because. Derek's eyes are intense on him as he pulls back. "I like all of you. I'd shout it out of the rooftops of all the buildings in the town if I was allowed to, Derek."

Derek smiles, and Stiles' heart beats triple time in his chest, which suddenly feels too small for everything Derek makes him feel.

They stare at one another for one more moment, and then they turn towards the screen, the cursor having moved on the screen, evidently because of their absent grip on the mouse. Derek takes his hand back and Stiles misses the warmth, but he dutifully leans forward to type in Derek's enquiry of the evening.

"Stiles, kiss me if I'm wrong, but Dinosaurs still exist, right?"

Stiles' hand spams on top of the keyboard.

He waits for the punchline to come.

When it doesn't, he gets up, turns, flails at his dork of a boyfriend, who is grinning at him, cocky and full of shit, and punches him in the chest.

"I take it back. I don't want anybody to know you belong to me. Fuck you, Derek Hale."

"Actually, I asked for a kiss, and only on the condition that I'm wrong."

"Oh, you're so, so wrong, you jerk, and you're gonna pay for it."

Stiles has now pulled the uno reverse card and boxed in Derek against his bed. Derek cocks his eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

"Yeah, oh. You're gonna kiss me, like, a 1000 times! That was the worst pick up line ever, what the fuck, who is teaching you these things?!"

Stiles pushes Derek onto his bed and starts peppering kisses on Derek's forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his chin, and of course, his lips. After a while, Derek flips them over, and they cuddle, and then they lazily make-out until their lips are swollen and red.

Derek is asleep after that, and thank god for his dad's out of town police conference, and Stiles falls asleep, too.

And that's how Stiles completely forgets about his presentation due on Monday, which is a day after.

(Derek helps him with it, and they spend the whole of Sunday making out, cuddling, and trying to out-do each other with worse and worse pick-up lines. Derek wins, because apparently he is the king of those, and Stiles just falls in deeper, his chest feels even smaller, and his feelings for Derek just seem like something he can't possibly have, too precious and important and so, so much).

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fics #sh.writesonmain #i loooove this one so much #wrote this in the very early am's lol #i miss writing daily but ms. muse is elusive #AND ALSO HELLO? WE ARE GETTING TS11? I'M HYPED AF #anyways #sh.rambles #gonna go post this on ao3 also #gimme a few mins

[sirfrancisvarney]

So as the show is halfway through, and before episode four drops, I've tried to put together and organize all the information I've gathered so far.

In 2005 (18 years ago), Anders Lund found Tsalal station. Raymond Clark joins. The shots of the website don't show when everyone else joins, but some of them join within the next few years. The source of Tsalal's funding is hidden by several shell companies that link back to Tuttle United.

Seven years ago (or possibly earlier), in 2016, Annie Kowtok insists on joining her friend on her visit to Tsalal station, and immediately starts a relationship with Clark. This behavior is apparently unusual for her. Did she go to Tsalal specifically to meet Clark? Why keep it a secret? Also in 2016, Clark bought a trailer. It's assumed this was used to meet Annie K in secret.

Next year, sometime in spring 2017, Oliver Tagaq left Tsalal for reasons unknown. In April, Annie is killed. She records herself, clearly frightened and afraid of getting caught, on her smartphone in what appears to be an ice cave, saying, "I found it. It's here. I found it, I found it. My name is Annie Kowtok. If anything happens to me please--" she's pulled away from the camera and she is heard screaming. The camera view at the end is on the skeleton of some marine animal encased in ice.

On April 18, Annie's body is found. She was stabbed 32 times with a star-shaped instrument, ribs and teeth broken. She was kicked after her death and her tongue was cut out. Four days later, on April 22, Clark gets a spiral tattoo that match's Annie's. I don't know how long it takes to arrange getting a tattoo, so I don't know if he already had plans to get it, or if he got it because of Annie's murder.

Time passes. At some point, Clark turns the trailer into a shrine of some sort for Annie. The mannequin in the bed is wearing her cardigan, and there are baby dolls and children's toys placed around it, possibly a reference to her role as a midwife.

Clark covers his research notes with writing, including repeated phrases and words such as "her eyes her face," "I can hear her coming/moving outside," "cold," "dark," and "her fingers." It's unknown when this behavior started.

Fast forward to the end of 2023. A few weeks before the show starts, Clark's behavior becomes noticeably stranger. At some point before December 17, he obtains Annie's smartphone, which appears to have video of her last moments, and he is assumed to have acquired her tongue. He could have gotten these at the time of Annie's death, or at any point since. If he didn't take Annie's tongue himself, maybe getting them caused his mental instability to get worse?

On December 17, the last sunset of the year, a hunter watches as a herd of caribou get spooked from an unknown stimulus, and flee. It's unknown if this is connected to the events of the series, or merely meant to be symbolic. On the same day, the water in the villages goes bad, for reasons unknown. The mine is blamed. Also on December 17, the scientists at Tsalal are living their lives, relaxing in the evening, doing chores. Anders Lund is going over old data on a whiteboard (no spiral is visible on his forehead). Molina is filming himself making a sandwich, when he sees Clark, shaking or shivering. Part of Clark's hair is dyed blue, and where his hair touched the parka, the dye has transferred. He has clearly been outside in the snow. When Molina asks if he's ok, Clark turns and says "she's awake," which is immediately followed by a power outage that also affects Molina's smartphone.

On December 22, the delivery guy arrives and finds the place empty. A figure moves inhumanly fast through one corridor, but no other sign of life is present. The TV is playing "Twist and Shout" in repeat. He finds Annie's tongue on the floor underneath a table (several feet away from where Clark had been standing) and calls the police.

The next day, Rose finds the bodies of the scientists. They are frozen together, almost completely buried in the ice, bodies twisted in agony. They are naked, with burnt corneas and blood from their ears. Some have scratched their eyes out or bit themselves. Lund has Annie's spiral drawn on his forehead. Somehow, he is also still alive. (I don't know if this is important, but Danvers had to brush snow away to see the spiral, but Rose knew about it and told Navarro. Maybe it was more visible when she found the bodies and snow covered it before the police arrived, maybe Travis told her.) The scientists's clothes were found folded neatly near the corpsicle. The shoes look like indoor slippers, and it's likely that the clothes match what they were all wearing the night of December 17. A single handprint was taken from one shoe. It appears to be missing part of the ring and pinky fingers on the right hand (or they just couldn't get the print of those fingers).

Lund wakes briefly. He tells Danvers and Navarro, and I quote, "we woke her. She's awake. And now she's out. She's out there in the ice. She came for us in the dark."

Those are all the relevant facts concerning the main murder case (to my knowledge) as of episode three. I suppose I could have included a picture of Annie's stab wounds, but I couldn't make any kind of pattern out of them, or take a guess at what the weapon was. There's also the snow Navarro hit in the first episode, but I couldn't tell what it is, or if it's anything more than dirt and snow piled on the road. Personally, they do not suggest a microbial origin or cause. Diseases take time to infect, and they don't progress in everyone at exactly the same rate. The scientists were found together, practically climbing over each other. They died at almost exactly the same time, apparently in abject panic. I don't think a disease can kill that precisely. How did Clark avoid getting infected, since he lived with them all? Plus, whatever happened to them happened shortly after the power outage, since Molina' left his sandwich behind. One would assume he meant to eat it, since he went through the trouble to make it. The death of the scientists, the power outage, and the water going bad are all too closely linked in time to be unrelated. I wish I had a map of Ennis. I'd like to see how close these are in physical distance.

I also don't think there are any real clues to be found in the website. Their bios look about like what you'd get if you asked someone to come up with backgrounds for people studying ancient microorganisms in glacial ice. Plus, I think most of the scientists are ultimately going to be unimportant as individuals. Out of all eight men, Lund and Clark are the only ones focused on by the narrative. When interviewed, the cleaning ladies only mentioned Lund (yelled at them for touching his stuff) and Clark (his crying, probably over the brutal unsolved murder of his girlfriend kept them from being able to clean his room) by name. Lund survived (for a while, at least). Clark is missing and is closely connected with Annie's case. Oliver Tagaq mentioned Lund by name when he learned the scientists were dead. (On a side note, I really wish Danvers and Navarro (mostly Danvers) hadn't been so hostile when questioning him. They might have gotten more information from him if they hadn't gone at it like assholes. Granted, that's practically an impossible task for Danvers.) The rest, sadly, don't seem to be important. They are effectively ignored and dismissed, much like how they ignored the cleaning ladies.

So what could have happened on December 17, and how is it tied to Annie's murder? Honestly, I don't know yet. I'm not sure there's enough information given to answer those questions. Lund's speech and the way the scientists died suggest a supernatural explanation, but other details surrounding their murder seem to suggest more prosaic, human causes. There's no sign of a struggle at the station, but maybe someone cleaned up after themselves. The way part of the note at the bottom of the whiteboard is erased looks unusual, like it could have happened accidentally. Maybe someone got knocked against it, or their coat brushed against the board when they were writing the message. It's also possible the murderer was able to make them all leave without a fight. The power had just gone out, so maybe they all gathered together to put it back on? Where's the circuit breaker or generator for the station? Maybe that's where the actual crime scene is. The folded clothes feel like something you'd make a person do right before you execute them, sort of like making your victim dig their own grave. It could also have the opposite motivation: I could see a person not in full possession of their faculties (like Clark, or maybe one of the cleaning ladies in a fugue state) instinctively trying to straighten things up. Both feel like very human actions.

Finally, who is "she"? Is that even the right question? When did "she" wake up? The scientists didn't seem to be doing anything that would trigger her awakening on the 17th, so it must have happened before. I wish I knew more about what made Clark's mental illness ramp up in the weeks before sunset. It feels like there could be an important clue there. Too bad Clark is missing and anyone else who could answer the question is dead.

#true detective #true detective night country #spoilers #long post #hope all of that makes some kind of sense #i still don't know how the polar bear fits in #i need to stop obsessing over this show #i have other stuff i need to do

[sirfrogsworth]

Clark Bridge in Alton, Illinois

These were not the photos I intended to take.

They were not the photos I had in my head.

A new friend had offered to help me with various things and one of those things was my photography field trips. We had been planning this for over a week and the day finally came. I was feeling okay, but not 100%. It was nearing sunset and I was getting all of my gear together. Then I decided I needed to find my ND filters (sunglasses for a camera). Which were downstairs in storage. And, stupidly, I spent 20 minutes digging through things to find them. And by the time I found them, I noticed I was out of breath. Usually when I lose my breath that quickly it is a bad sign. My body is telling me I'm probably not up to anything physical at that moment.

But, I really wanted to take some new pictures. My mental health has not been doing great and I just needed some photography therapy. So we headed to the location. When we reached our destination there was an uphill path to where we needed to go.

It was a warm 85° and I was still not recovered from my scavenger hunt despite the car ride. But I had to get my photo, so I didn't listen to my body. As we walked up the hill I just kept going slower and slower. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. And when I finally got to the top my body had almost no energy left to power itself. And when that happens and all of your vital body functions still demand energy, you can feel quite sick. I tried so hard to tough it out. I took a few test photos. And then I realized I had to either lay down or collapse.

This was my first time meeting this new friend in person. And she was very understanding and helpful. But it was still embarrassing having to lie down on some grass next to a public bike path. There was a moment when I was convinced I was going to need to call EMTs to carry me off that hill.

But I just gave my body a moment and let the bugs eat me as I rested in the sharp grass. And I slowly started to regenerate some energy and felt much less sick. But I could not take another photo. The test shots were all I was going to get. And we had to call it a night and get me back home.

Thankfully walking down a hill is much easier than walking up it. But as I walked down I could see the sun kissing the horizon. I could see the photograph I wanted to take. I was able to get something sort of like I wanted with my smartphone as we walked down the hill (the top photo) but the wide angle lens made the bridge look tiny and I was just frustrated it wasn't what was in my head.

I got home and passed out. I woke up in the middle of the night feeling pretty drained from the experience. But my body seemed to be back to a stable state. I finally looked at the few photos I managed to capture and they actually surprised me. The smartphone snap was way better than I was expecting and with some fancy editing it looked pretty close to the quality of my big camera. And I got that cool boat without even realizing it.

So it seems I can take decent photos by accident during a health crisis.

New talent unlocked.

The actual goal of the evening was to get to know my new friend. And that was 100% accomplished despite my embarrassment. She was very kind and reassured me everything was fine and there was nothing to be embarrassed about. I appreciated that empathy and that's a pretty admirable quality to have in a new friend.

[shina913]

Cortado | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG-15 (SFW)

Genre: strangers to lovers; meet-cute; tooth-rotting fluff; tiny bit of angst

Warnings: some cussing; brief mention of weed; self-consciousness/insecurity; it's just disgustingly cheesy and fluffy--sorry!🥴

Word count: 4,290 words

Summary: "There must be something about trains. You never know what to expect."

A/N: Here you go, @borahae-k! This is a couple of days late because I couldn't make up my mind about what kind of Joon I wanted to write based on his Spain insta-photo dump. Eventually, I happened to remember a show I saw that I thought would be the perfect scenario for this. Also, I just want to stunt-cast Namjoon in all of my fluffy fics! Thank you, Sim @itdoesntmatterwhy for looking this over and giving me notes (and just general screaming)! I got a little too into the ending that I almost didn't want to stop writing it 💕 The banner kind of sucks but hopefully, the story makes up for that!

“The train will be leaving in ten minutes…” the announcement echoed through the station.

Your eyes flick back and forth at your surroundings. Everyone was glued to their phones and devices. You hardly remember a time and place when people actually sat down and had a solid conversation without having to pull their smartphones every second to scroll around aimlessly.

Did anybody text them? Did they get a like on their latest reel?

If it weren’t an absolute necessity for your job, you’d have yeeted your own phone into a river. While you ponder on your cynical thoughts about technology, you are startled by your own annoying little device. 

You look at the screen to see who it was. Recognizing the caller, you answer, “Hey, mom.”

She asks if your train was right on schedule.

“Yeah, we’re just about to leave. The ride should be a little under three hours. Can you still pick me up? …Great, thanks. I’ll give you a call when I’m close so you don’t have to wait too long. …Okay…see you, bye!”

You hang up and set your phone on the table in front of you. You were lucky enough to get to the station and secure seats tucked in the back row. 

It was the end of the semester and the doctorate students from your program were given the option to take a short break before beginning their new projects.

You also took advantage of that option so you could finally move the rest of your things into your new office space. The university took care of moving your furniture and other personal belongings out of your flat and into your new location. However, you decided to bring some of your books. These editions were too precious for you to entrust to some stranger.

It wasn’t ideal to be lugging this many things around during a train ride since you didn’t drive. Thankfully, the seats across from you were vacant so you had enough room to set your textbooks down, along with a box of random knick-knacks from your former flat.

Still, you didn’t want to take over the whole space so you set them all against the window, leaving some room for anybody who would like to sit across from you.

You pick up the novel that you’ve been reading and open it to your dog-eared page, hoping to stave off any unwanted conversation on the train. You were a woman, traveling alone, and would be considered a perfect target.

Although, if you were being honest…you sometimes wished you’d experience a real-life meet-cute. Strangers on a train, having a random yet perfectly meaningful conversation–kind of like the novels that you were into.

God, you were so lonely.

It’s been a while since you’ve been with someone. Admittedly, you were jealous of your friend and colleague, Youjin, who somehow manages to balance her romantic life with her post-grad work. She was an inherent social butterfly and had a talent for spinning literature from the middle ages into the most romantic, sensual talking points during her dates.

Sometimes, you wonder what it was like to kiss someone again. The feel of their lips brushing against yours. The problem was, you really didn’t get out much and didn’t see the point of forced efforts of socializing. You were typically hostile to any ‘pickup’ attempt. 

You glance across the aisle to find another woman who was animatedly chatting with a couple who sat in the row behind her. They were putting away their luggage when she strikes up a conversation with them after complimenting the woman’s outfit. She twirls her hair between her fingers while they trade travel stories.

She reminded you of Youjin. Her carefree laugh and confident demeanor were qualities that you thought most men found attractive–qualities that would make them naturally approach her. And you have noticed, some of the male passengers who pass her do not hesitate to give her a once-over.

When she was done with her conversation, she settles back into her seat. For a brief moment, she turned her head in your direction, saw you looking, and gave you a friendly smile. You smiled politely back at her before she turns her attention to her phone screen. 

You were not Youjin or this woman. You were an awkward bookworm who had only been on a total of one or two dates since starting your graduate program.

You put your book down carelessly on the table and shifted in your seat. Straightening your posture, you turn to glance wistfully at the view from the window and sighed.

…Maybe you could do something to change that.

After thinking about it some more, you decided that you would step out of your comfort zone and dare to engage with the next man who talks to you. The thought of it sounded ridiculous but you figured, good things happened to people who took chances.

You move your books aside to make some room. You look up and glance at other passengers who were still making their way through the car before the train departs the station.

Next, you see a man smiling and excitedly greeting everyone he passes in the aisle.

You pick up your novel again and duck your head. Too chatty, you thought. Please don’t sit here, you internally plead as you avoid eye contact.

Much to your relief, the chatty guy finds an empty spot adjacent to your seat with another woman who, like him, was an eager conversationalist.

Not far behind him was a man who looked very questionable to you. He carried his bag with him–both arms wrapped tightly around it, hugging securely against his chest as if someone was about to steal it.

He had a skittish look in his eyes that scared you. Again, you silently hoped he would sit somewhere else–which thankfully, he did.

The overhead announcement informs you that the train is leaving in two minutes. Your shoulders sag and put your book down again, feeling defeated.

Maybe it just wasn’t the time.

Seconds later, another man huffs down the aisle, dragging his bag along.

He was tall and dressed in all black–a leather jacket over a black hoodie and black pants. Dark strands fell loosely above his eye line. He raked his hair back with his fingers whilst scanning the car for any open seats.

Your heart raced a little as you attempted to subtly get his attention, inviting him to sit across from you.

He pauses and makes eye contact when he reaches your position. You nudge your books aside, beckoning him to have a seat.

“It’s free,” you say meekly.

Just when you think that he was about to settle in, he glances across the aisle and takes the open seat next to the woman who reminded you of Youjin.

Your heart sinks to your stomach just as the train pulls away from the platform.

******

The train is approaching its third stop when you start getting another call. 

“Hi, this is YN.” It was the moving company.

“Oh, hi! Thanks for calling me back.” You proceeded to clarify your new delivery address since you mistakenly entered the wrong unit number. The representative on the other line was understanding, updated their records, and assured you that your things would be delivered within two business days.

”Sounds good, thank you so much!” You signed off. After you hung up, your eyes wander across the aisle and notice that Youjin’s doppelgänger had gotten up from her seat to reclaim her bag from the overhead rack.

You smiled to yourself as it left the man in black all by his lonesome.

You silently watch her walk down the aisle, toward the exit. After she had gone, you turn your head and happen to lock eyes with him again.

You cracked a smile, which he returned this time. You couldn’t help but get all flustered. He was devastatingly cute. You wished that he would drop you a cheesy line or two.

A lightbulb goes off in your head–you could initiate the conversation.

Overcoming your anxiety, you open your mouth to say something to him but are startled when the skittish guy with the backpack gets up–completely agitated–then starts yelling at the person they’re sitting next to. He accuses them of trying to steal their stuff. Seconds after his outburst, he hurriedly walks further and took an empty seat several rows down from you.

You and the man in black look at each other and grimaced.

“Man, there must be something about trains. You never know what to expect,” he muses.

“I’m not gonna lie…that actually scared the shit out of me a little bit,” you remarked. You clutched your chest, your heart still beating fast at the strange man’s outburst.

His expression immediately changes to a look of concern. “Well, either way–I’m not the type to just sit around. I wouldn’t have allowed anything to happen to you,” the man in black replies.

Although you loved romantic novels, you thought that ‘blushing’ was such a clichéd, uninspired way to describe someone who was incredibly flustered. And yet here you were…blushing at this stranger’s remark.

You mouthed your thanks to him.

“Are you coming from one of the universities?” He asks.

“How’d you guess?”

He points his chin forward and gestures at your things. ”Uhm…that pile of academic-looking books next to you,” he chuckled.

“Oh,” you remark, now blushing in embarrassment. “Yeah,” you affirm. “Some of these are rare and I personally didn’t trust anyone else to transport them.”

He bobs his head in a nod at your explanation.

“So…what do you do for work?”

“I work in tech. I was just visiting our office down south.”

You nod, thinking about how else to keep this conversation going. “Are you on your way back home?”

“Not yet. I have a friend that I’m meeting up north. I don’t drive and…although I could have taken a plane up here, I figured, why not take the scenic route,” he shares.

“Ah,” your eyebrows lift in curiosity. He struck you as somebody from out of town so you thought you could recommend a local landmark or tourist spot. “There’s a great museum up in that area–I don’t know if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“Oh, I know,” he responds. “It’s primarily why I’m going up there.”

“Oh–I…thought you said that your friend lived there?”

He chuckles. “Eh, we went to university together and he said I could crash at his place. I took it as a window of opportunity.”

You nodded. Suddenly, you felt the conversation slipping away. In a panic, you think of another random but perfectly neutral topic to bring up.

“So–”

“What are–”

You both crack up when you speak at the same time. “Uhm, why don’t you go ahead,” he urged.

“So–what does that mean, exactly? That you work ‘in tech’? I feel like, people say that all the time but I’ve never fully grasped it. I just kind of nod along.”

“Well, I work for a company that targets advertising for social media sites.”

“Oh! So you work in advertising?”

He shook his head gently. “No, I work in tech,” he corrects you. “I handle a bunch of accounts for companies and help them direct their resources properly so they don’t waste their money. We run algorithms based on…”

…And now he’s completely lost you. It’s the same thing that happens when someone tries to explain TikTok and how you can customize your ‘FYP’ settings.

“Nice,” is all you say as politely.

“What about you? What do you do for work?” He queries.

“I’m a scholar. But if you want to get specific about it, I’m a medievalist.”

He stares at you blankly. “Right,” he comments.

It was a reaction that you were used to whenever you engaged with someone outside of your field of study. “In my line of work, there’s not much technology going on there,” you say dryly.

“Maybe because processors were too slow back in those times?” He counters.

You snorted at his dorky joke. You couldn’t help but feel flutters in the pit of your belly.

“I’m sorry…this angle is killing me,” he says, gesturing at his neck. It occurred to you that you were sitting across the aisle from each other, facing the same direction that the train was moving, so he had been craning his neck while he talked to you.

“Would you mind if I sat there?” He points to the empty space in front of you.

You try not to squeal or look too eager. “Oh, of course,” you smiled politely.

“Thanks.” He gets up and takes the seat across from you. Now, you were sitting face-to-face.

“There. That’s better,” he grins. “Where were we?” He asks, hoping to pick up your earlier conversation.

You laugh nervously and fidget with your book. “Gosh, I can’t remember now.” You were frazzled–he didn’t just look good from a distance. He was even more handsome up close. You were in big trouble.

“Actually,” you piped up, snapping out of your haze. “Can I ask you a random question?”

“Sure,” he answers.

“When you were coming down the aisle earlier–what made you decide to sit next to her when you had the option of the two seats?” You were referring to the woman who had just gotten off the train.

“Ah, well,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just prefer to sit facing in the direction the train is going. I have a small issue with motion sickness,” he confesses shyly.

Your chest twinges at his admission. At the same time, you feel a small sense of relief knowing that he wasn’t put off by you for whatever reason.

“Now you’re facing the opposite way,” you point out to him.

“Right, but I’m facing you so my little quirk can take a back seat.” He shrugged, “It’s not a big deal, you know. It’s not like it dominates my life or anything crazy like that.”

“Would you like to switch seats?” You offer kindly.

“Yes, I would love that. Thank you,” he immediately responds in relief. You both rise from your seats, sidestepping and shuffling in the aisle to switch places. The train hits an uneven part of the track knocking you off balance so you grab onto the first thing you could to keep yourself upright.

Your breath hitches when you cling onto his bicep and elbow. He had removed his leather jacket now and didn’t have that extra layer on him. You felt slightly inappropriate at the invasive but purely accidental contact with his body.

“S-sorry,” you mumble as you let go of him and carefully settle into the opposite seat.

“That’s okay, it happens,” he says in consolation. “Where are you traveling to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, I’m moving to my new place…which also happens to be really close to my hometown so my mom is coming to pick me up from the station to stay with her for a couple of days. It’s just until I get my stuff delivered,” you rationalized.

“You say that with a hint of anxiety,” he points out. You appreciate how perceptive he seems to be so you take that as your cue to open up a bit more.

“I enjoyed living far from her these last few years. And the idea of coming back home for a couple of days…” you inhale through clenched teeth, “It’s a little daunting. But don’t get me wrong–” you immediately add, “I love her…it’s just that I can only take her in small doses these days.”

He smiled in commiseration.

“Plus, she’s also in this phase where she’s given up watching TV or having WiFi.”

“What?” He says, clearly taken aback.

You giggled. “I don’t know. I think that she’s going through some mid-life crisis.”

“Damn…no WiFi? Sheesh,” he shook his head, thinking that he didn’t want to be in that same predicament.

“Yeah. Although, in doing all that–she’s recently focused her energy on the arts and other simple things. She paints, writes poetry, listens to talk radio…tends to her plants.”

“Wow,” he says, sounding impressed.

“And she also rediscovered the benefits of weed so–”

“Ahah,” he chuckled. “I knew there was a catch!”

Your mom always waxed poetic about how she used to be such a free spirit when she was younger. Maybe you could pick up a few pointers from her.

“That’s funny… She kind of sounds like my brother–minus all of the creative, artsy, mid-life renaissance parts.”

You laugh at the little bit of personal information that he shares with you.

“He’s like Snoop Dogg, Willie Nelson, and all of Woody Harrelson’s performances rolled into one…giant joint.”

“He sounds very interesting,” you laughed.

“Yeah, maybe he and your mom can link up,” he jokes.

You were pleased with how long you’d kept this conversation going. And you had to commend your social battery for staying strong!

“So…tell me about medievalism,” he says.

You chuckled at that. “Like, in one sentence?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

You roll your eyes subtly. “Of course you’d want an elevator pitch since you work in advertising.”

He clicked his teeth. “Tech. I work in tech,” he emphasizes while keeping his tone light.

You blew out a breath and shifted in your seat. “I don’t think I can explain what medievalism is in one train ride let alone one sentence.”

He nods in acquiescence. “I get it.”

“You seem to be the type who likes things that are straightforward. Kind of like a…’what you see is what you get’ kind of thing, right?”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

You hummed. “Well…I like things that take a bit more time to define. Things that can’t be easily explained. Things with multiple layers that you have to peel back, only to discover that there are more layers to uncover…more questions and answers that have yet to be revealed.”

“Kind of like an onion?”

You lift a shoulder. “Yeah, if you want to simplify it. Just like an onion.”

“Right but couldn’t you just cut right through the center of it? Get right to the point?”

You laughed. “Sure…but where’s the fun in that?”

He pursed his lips, leaned back against the seat, and nodded softly at your point.

“It’s like…” You clicked your teeth, trying to find the right metaphor for it. “It’s like this neverending prologue, you know?” Your expression softens. “Because once you begin reading a story…you know that the end is coming.”

“I’m the opposite, I guess,” he counters. “I’d like to think that I’m more practical and tend to see things from a logical perspective. What is this thing called, show me how it works; how does it fit into the big picture? I don’t think like a scholar. I prefer to know things that I can apply to my daily life.”

“That’s fair,” you say to him, acknowledging his point of view.

Then, after gathering up more courage, you tell him, “I’m really glad that you came to sit here with me.”

“Yeah?”

“Better than the other guy who looked like a murderer,” you say in jest.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Who?” Then his face visibly relaxes when remembers who you were referring to. He cranes his neck to take a peek at the guy who sat a few rows down from you.

When he turns his attention back to you, his expression darkened. He rests his elbows on the table, fingers steepled, while he leaned closer to you.

Squaring his jaw, he says, “I’ve got news for you, YN…you’ve made a fatal mistake.”

You recoil slightly. “Huh?”

He continued, his tone growing threatening. “I’m the murderer here. I’m sorry to tell you that this is a thriller and not the romance novel that you pictured.”

Your brows knit in utter confusion. Your pulse raised while you contemplated throwing your heavier, hard-bound books at him to defend yourself.

After a few beats of silence and intense eye contact, you see the corner of his mouth twitch. It effectively eased the tension and you both break into laughter.

“Holy shit, you should have seen your face,” he says in between cackles.

“Oh my–do not ever do that!” You were also relieved to find an even bigger nerd than you were.

After catching your breath, you switch tact. “By the way, how do you know my name?” 

“I kind of overheard your phone conversation earlier. Sorry,” he says apologetically. “I’m Namjoon.” You smile and shake his hand after he introduces himself.

“I didn’t realize that you were paying attention,” you say. 

“Yeah…I just…I don’t know,” he scrambled for an answer but failed.

“And who said anything about romance?” You cock an eyebrow at him and he turns sheepish.

Now it was his turn to look all flustered.

******

You don’t know how it happened but it’s been nearly three hours since you and Namjoon were completely lost in conversation. You bounced from one subject to another, rarely missing a beat. It felt so easy to talk to him. Presumptuous as it was, you felt a connection there.

The intercom announces that your stop was approaching in a few minutes. Hearing that takes you by surprise—and you also realize that you got so carried away that you forgot to call your mom to give her a heads-up on your arrival. 

Your face falters when you take your things, which he kindly offers to help gather. His expression turned sober as well, unsure how to move forward. His destination was still an hour away.

When this train ride began, all you hoped for was a random, real-life meet-cute. Then Namjoon came along and now you felt torn between wanting to live out some fantasy or pursuing this real-life thing…whatever this thing is.

“Well…uhm…i-it was really nice to meet you,” he stutters.

“Same,” you reply.

“You made the journey feel a lot shorter than usual.” Your cheeks warm at the compliment. 

There you were, face-to-face–lips pursed, looking like you were both trying to gauge each other’s thoughts.

And you didn’t know why, but all that confidence you felt earlier seemed to be slipping from your grasp. It occurred to you once more that this was real life, not a romance novel.

In the end, you would walk off this train feeling grateful that a guy like him had even taken a remote interest in you.

“I guess, I should be going now,” you muttered.

“Oh…y-yeah,” he stutters.

You get up and he follows suit. “Would you think it inappropriate if I were to give you a hug?” He asks.

You shook your head. “Not at all.”

With your consent, he opens his arms wide and wraps you in them. You inhale deeply, taking his scent in, further torturing yourself.

You both pull away reluctantly. With a heavy heart, you approached the car doors to wait for the train to slow into a halt…until the loud screeching of the breaks knocks some sense into you.

Did you really want to go through the rest of your life living vicariously through Youjin’s outrageous escapades?

It was now or never, you thought. You had to take a chance!

“Namjoon?” You turn around abruptly to face him again.

“Yeah?” He responds nervously.

“I never do this but–would you like to get off the train with me? We could get some coffee and…keep talking?” The words spill out of you a little too quickly.

You wait an agonizing few seconds for his response.

Then, his face breaks into the most boyish, absolutely knock-your-socks-off grin. He smiled so broadly that even when he relaxed his mouth, the creases of his dimples were still evident on his cheeks.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He stands up and hurriedly grabs his bag overhead and walks towards you. Smiling, he takes a few books off your hands and you both off-board the train. As soon as you step onto the platform together, it began to drizzle so you both run for cover.

You both laugh while watching the rain start to pour from the skies. You glance sideways at him to find him grinning while staring at you.

Asking him for coffee was already a huge step out of your comfort zone. But something about Namjoon–the connection you shared and how easy and natural everything felt.

As cheesy as it was, you decide to take another huge leap.

Seizing the moment, you say, “You ever wonder what it’s like to kiss in the rain?”

Without a word, he sets his things down. Oh no…you’ve royally screwed it up now. He looked like he might run off in the other direction. Mortified, you wished you could go back in time and take it all back.

But the rom-com gods were watching and they liked what they saw. They decide to throw you a bone.

He surprises you and takes steps backward– under the pouring rain. He was soaked in seconds.

He held his hands out to you and says, “C’mon, now’s our chance!”

Giggling, you clumsily throw your things next to his, run into his arms, and kiss him.

It was…just as perfect as you imagined it would be. You melted into the kiss, swept away by the sheer lushness of it. Your heart pounded fast, synchronized with the raindrops that pelted you.

His lips moved against yours at a soft and leisurely pace. That wasn’t to say they weren’t eager…because you surely felt it.

When you finally come up for air, you both laugh. You stood there drenched, with your foreheads pressed against each other’s and his arms securely wrapped around your waist.

It was the perfect ending to your romantic novel. …Or was this just the beginning?

Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @itdoesntmatterwhy @internetjunkdrawer @purplewhalewrites @yu-justme @joonschocochip @deepseavibez @majamarantha @yoongukie-ff

#bts fan fiction #namjoon x reader #namjoon #btshoneyhive #thekpopuniverse #bangtantheatrenet #kim namjoon #namjoon fluff #bts namjoon #bts kim namjoon #bts fluff #cortado x knj

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine the WBP watching you adjust to their rustic lifestyle

Commissioned by: @ceylon-morphe286

Thanks for the commission btw ❤️️

You: *had washed onto the Moby Dick during a storm*

Whitebeard: *takes one look at your pitiful wet shaking and sniveling form, and decides to take pity on you and leaves you to his 1st and 2nd commands *

Ace: *helping you put sheets on your bunk, when he notices your phone on the night stand as it vibrates* What's that thingy?

You: oh it's just my phone.

Ace: *blinks at you in confusion*

You: my smartphone, ya know, like a cell phone.

Ace: You keep saying it like I know what that is.

You: you get calls and messages, and use it to talk to people from a distance.

Ace: oh, like a den den mushi! I've never seen one with a shell that shape, where's the snail though?

You: there's no snail, what on Earth are you talking about?

Ace: No, what are you talking about?

After figuring out what was going on

You: So, I'm not just displaced in space, but also in time....

Marco: what does that even mean?

You: *Sighs because you don't want to explain it.* It's nothing... cute snail by the way.

Ace: If your calls aren't done with a den den mushi, how does it work?

You: well, I'm not entirely sure, but it's complicated enough that I think the fact your culture uses snails is.... rather quaint.

Whitebeard: *watching you as your attention remains glued to the screen.* for something that just does calls, you're rather obsessed with it.

You: oh it does a bunch more, like I can take pictures and record footage. Like here, *snaps a picture of Whitebeard*

Whitebeard: *winces from the flash*

You: hehe, look it *shows him a picture of himself looking straight up his nose with a dog filter over it*

Whitebeard: I'm hideous, throw it away immediately.

The next morning

Ace: See I told you I could carry four crates cat once!

You: *recording him* oh wow, look at that.

Ace: *rapidly shifts his body to account for the boxes wobbling, and he has to take a wide step, ripping the crotch of his pants*

You: *learns Ace do not wear chonies *

Ace: *tries to correct himself, so he wasn't swinging in the breeze, and ends up dropping the crates, and drops the crates.*

You: here cover yourself with this. *Hands him the blanket you were using as a shawl*

Ace: *wraps it around his waist just in time*

Marco, Izou, and Thatch: *comes check out the loud crash*What happened?

Izou: *runs over to save a tin of matcha from rolling into the ocean* hey, you almost cost me a week's worth of tea!

Thatch: *grumbles* here we go with his tea again.

Izou: it is tea, you peanut head!

Thatch: tea is leaves, that is powder!

Ace: *looks over at you, and remembers you were recording him before he fell* to delete it.

You: delete what?

Ace: your phone.

You: ohh *wants to save it for possible black mail for later*... I accidentally turned it off, see, so it probably didn't save the video*shows him the dark screen*

Ace: turn it back on, and check.

You: hmm, I actually shouldn't, it has limited power, and it was already pretty low.

Marco: what powers it? You: electricity, which is like domesticated lightening.

Marco: not easy to come by, from the sounds of it.

You: not here, no. So I should turn it off and use it less.

During breakfast

Izou: why do none of you know how to make a decent cup of tea, I'm not even asking for proper.

You: *hand him a piping hot cup of matcha*

Izou: *sighs and reluctantly accepts it,* wait... this is perfect, how do you know how to make matcha?

You: I read a lot, plus I'm used to a broader global community letting me see into different cultures.

Izou: on that enter nets you mentioned last night?

You: yep on the internet, I'm used to being able to have most of human knowledge at my fingertips.

Marco: and having a constant source of stimulation, that's why you keep picking at yourself when you go without doing something for a few minutes. Speaking of which, stop it *smacks your hand way from your face*

You: yep.

Later that week

You: *pushing yourself along the floor on your back and whining* I'm bored.

Ace: *throws a book at you because you've been whining nonstop to him*

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #whitebeard #op whitebeard #edward newgate #marco the phoenix #marco the pineapple #one piece izou #thatch one piece #fire fist ace #portgas d ace #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #tma commissions #10/16/22 #no beta we die like men

[mirai-e-jump]

Hero Vision Vol.55 (2015/Winter) Kamen Rider Blade 10th Anniversary Reunion Interviews Discussion on the Blade Drama CD (translations below)

Publication: February 23, 2015

Takayuki Tsubaki (Kazuma Kenzaki/Blade) Ryoji Morimoto (Hajime Aikawa/Chalice) Hironari Amano (Sakuya Tachibana/Garren) Takahiro Hojo (Mutsuki Kamijo/Leangle)

Tsubaki: I know that since Kamen Rider Blade is celebrating its 10th anniversary, the fans have been asking if we could do something for them. It reminded me that this show is still loved by so many people.

Amano: We talked about how it'd be nice if we could do something together. Kindof like how "Ninpu Sentai Hurricaneger" celebrated its 10th anniversary, and released a new project.

Tsubaki: Yeah. Then, we were offered to do a Drama CD. It made me really happy. This is the first of its kind in Kamen Rider history, and I think the only reason such an offer was given, was because the fans, Toei, the sponsors, the staff, and the cast all came together to make it happen.

Amano: For me, at first, I honestly wondered how a 10 year old production would be revived, and whether anyone would buy it.

Morimoto: Yeah. For me, my first impression was that this was a new beginning. Honestly, I was happy, but I was also worried about whether I'd be able to portray the role I played 10 years ago in a convincing way.

Hojo: I felt the same way. However, when I first heard about it, I was more happy than worried. Blade was the work I was most attached to, and had the most vivid memories of during my acting career. Now, in a brand new drama written 10 years later, I was really looking forward to it.

Amano: But, I also thought it was a story that I couldn't accept if all four of us weren't here.

Morimoto: That's the minimum requirement. After all, "Blade" is only possible if we're all together.

Amano: That's why I thought the most important thing was whether Joe (Hojo-san's nickname), who had retired from acting and returned to his hometown Nagoya, would be able to appear in this work. If they said, "He's retired, so just drop it," then there's nothing we can do about it. But, when Joe said he was sure and wanted to continue to be involved with the Kamen Rider series, it was then that I realized for the first time that this story would actually be happening.

Tsubaki: In Joe's case, locating him was quick, but contacting him to finalize the deal was the hard part.

Hojo: Just as we were talking about it, my cell phone died......(laughs)

Tsubaki: It was the first time I saw him in awhile, but he suddenly brought me a box with his new smartphone in it and said, "Baki (Tsubaki-kun's nickname), set it up for me."

Amano: You're better off with a flip phone! (laughs). I sent you an e-mail the other day, but when I asked, "Why didn't you reply?," you said your screen had broke.

Tsubaki: Those kinds of things usually makes me nervous, but it's different when we're working on Blade. The other day, I asked him, "What would you do if you were offered an acting role for something other than Kamen Rider?" He said, "I won't do it. But, if it's Kamen Rider, I'll definitely do it." I'm so happy that Joe still feels that way even after 10 years.

-10 years later, the four of us are just as you imagined-

Morimoto: I was happy to see that the Drama CD was a continuation of the story up to episode 49, which we had performed over the course of a year, all while creating a new story.

Amano: I was happy to see the presence of Kenzaki (Kazuma), how Hajime (Aikawa) had grown as a human, and how Mutsuki (Kamijo) had become an adult.

Morimoto: And also, Tachibana-san is more like a gentleman.

Tsubaki: I think Kenzaki was as I expected. I was told by Director Ishida (Hidenori) in the film "Missing Ace," which takes place 4 years after the show, that, "Kenzaki will not change even after 4 years." I thought that even 10 years later, Kenzaki would still be the same.

Morimoto: It was the exact image I had in mind, or rather, what I wanted him to be like.

Amano: On the flip side, the most unexpected thing was the conversations between Tachibana and Hajime. After 10 years, It seems that Tachibana was now able to talk with Hajime.

Morimoto: That's for sure. At the time, Garren (who Tachibana transforms into) and Chalice (who Hajime transforms into) were enemies.

Amano: Now, Ryo-chan (Morimoto-san) and I are having deep conversations.

Morimoto: Just like me and Amano-kun, I was happy to see that after 10 years, Hajime and Tachibana had developed a strong relationship. That's why I felt that the scene had to be a condensed version of their 10 years together.

Hojo: There's a line from Mutsuki in the TV show, where he says, "I want to protect the smiles and tears of people."……Going along with that, Mutsuki's choice of an event company as a place of employment in order to make people smile had me thinking, "That makes sense." It also makes him happy having junior colleagues. In his mind, Mutsuki's senior is Tachibana-san, but it's not enough to just imitate him. Therefore, I think I was able to play the role of a senior in my own way, although not as strict as Tachibana-san.

Amano: By the way, how are Mutsuki and Nozomi-chan getting along 10 years later? In the Drama CD, it's only brought up alittle bit.

Morimoto: What's more, "Mutsuki," you slurred your words! (laughs)

Amano: I'm very curious. How about in Joe's mind? Do you go for it? Or…..

Hojo: Nozomi……I wonder if we're done.

Amano & Morimoto: What!!? You guys broke up?!

Tsubaki: Nozomi-chan...maybe she married someone else? (laughs) No, no, I'm just joking. What I left out just now, was foreshadowing for the next part.

Morimoto: You left it in!

Tsubaki: I'm sure that in the next part, Nozomi-chan will be in trouble, so Mutsuki, trying to save her, will finally transform into his Jack Form.

Amano: I don't think they (the scriptwriters) put that much though into it!!

-Because we understand each other's roles-

Morimoto: Hajime isn't the type to show his emotions, but during the recording, I was so emotional, that I actually started to cry.

Amano: It was the final scene. When we finished, I said, "This isn't it," and re-recorded it.

Morimoto: Yeah. If Hajime honestly expresses his feelings and becomes 100% human, that's where the story will end. But, after seeing Kenzaki for the first time in such a long time, the thought of never seeing him again made me so emotional. I though, "Hajime should act like this too," but then I realized, "maybe I'm being alittle too feminine." When I asked everyone about it, both Amano-kun and Hojo gave the advice of, "Definitely don't cry." The reason we can share our opinions like that is because we all understand our roles.

Amano: That's right. It's the same for me, I remember other people's roles more than my own.

Morimoto: In a way, it's like looking at it from the Director's point of view. A scene where I tell Amano-kun, "These are the only friends I can trust!," seems strange.

Amano: Now that you mention it, you were very quiet about it at first. But, that scene was also in the TV show, so when I asked Ryo-chan, "What were you doing before?," Ryo-chan remembered it well.

Morimoto: You said I was quite loud at that time

Amano: That's why we re-recorded it. Everyone remembers what Hajime was like, what Mutsuki was like, and what Kenzaki was like.

Tsubaki: When it comes to "that kind of thing" Kenzaki can only speak the "Ondul Language" right? (laughs).

(Everyone laughs)

Morimoto: For better or for worse, the image I have of Kenzaki has never changed. It was the same in the Drama CD. I remembered almost immediately that, "Kenzaki is just like this."

Tsubaki: "Like this," in a good way? (laughs).

Morimoto: Ofcourse. On the other hand, it would be strange if Kenzaki could speak as fluently as (Kenichi) Suzumura-san (laughs).

Tsubaki: Come to think of it, during the dub recording for "Super Hero Taisen," the staff members said, "We have high expectations" So when I asked them, "Which are you expecting?," they said, "Whichever!" Well, from the very beginning, I started chewing as I spoke, and they all started clapping……

Morimoto: You also chewed in the Drama CD (laughs).

Tsubaki: Yeah, I chewed on the first take. Then, a nerve struck in Amano-kun, and he said, "I can't take this anymore…."

Morimoto: Then he left (the recording room).

Hojo: When he came back, he kept laughing like this (he holds his hands over his mouth) (laughs).

Morimoto: It was insanity. I also laughed at the beginning exchange with Kenzaki. In the flashback scene of the main story, he says, "Hajime, you can continue to live among other humans!"

Tsubaki: It came out more, "You can continue to live among other humans….."* (laughs). It's because that scene once traumatized me. *(said slightly slurred towards the end)

Morimoto: Were you actually hurt or something?

Tsubaki: I don't know if it's because people think that my lines with Ondul elements are the correct ones. I was wondering which expectation I should meet, but in the end, I ended up going with Ondul.....

Amano: I was entertained by it though.

Hojo: Another new saying will be born (laughs).

Morimoto: That part of him is what Kenzaki's all about.

Tsubaki: Just so you know, I usually speak very normally. But Kenzaki, he's just different! (laughs)

-We're now eagerly awaiting to visualize it!-

Tsubaki: Thankfully, I heard that the number of pre-orders for the Drama CD exceeded expectations, and Blade, which was broadcast on "Nico Nico Douga" late last year, was also quite popular. So, if we can get a little more support from the fans, I think a video version may be possible.

Amano: I'm glad that we were able to do a Drama CD, and that we were able to appear in Super Hero Taisen with all four of us, but, we mainly did dubbing. Next time I want everyone to appear in a film. By the way, I've confirmed that all four suits of Blade, Chalice, Garren, and Leangle still exist (laughs).

(Everyone laughs)

Tsubaki: Leangle's Jack Form figure is also available!

Amano: No way! I never thought it would actually release….!

Hojo: Come to think of it, at the time of Missing Ace, Baki and Amano-kun lied to me by saying, "I heard Leangle gets his Jack Form……" (laughs)

Amano: Now that it's become a figure, the visualization will also become a reality! So, first of all, we need everyone to support the Drama CD and push for this visualization. It'll be difficult to do something like this in another 5 or 10 years!

Hojo: Kenzaki and Hajime will grow old (laughs).

Morimoto: I'll become a wrinkly Undead! (laughs)

Amano: The Undead don't age, which means we'd have to change the original setting……

Tsubaki: Then it should be within this year. The filming period will be from April to May, and the release will be around August.

Morimoto: That's way too specific! (laughs). If that's the case, we'll have to get a new cards made…..(laughs).

Tsubaki: Talking like this, there's no end to our desires. I still want to make it into a video!

Hojo: When that time comes, I'll come back from Nagoya!

Amano: That's good. I think an adaptation would be fine if Joe actually answered his phone (laughs).

Morimoto: I won't break my cell phone or say that the screen died (laughs). That much is important. But, this year is the anniversary of Blade……so I'd be happy if we could end this year on a good note.

#kamen rider blade #kamen rider #kazuma kenzaki #kenzaki kazuma #hajime aikawa #aikawa hajime #tachibana sakuya #sakuya tachibana #hero vision #my scans #my translation #toku cast #tokusatsu #kamen rider garren #kamen rider chalice #kamen rider leangle #mutsuki kamijo #kamijo mutsuki #kr blade #tsubaki takayuki #reading this again was 😭 #they told him not to cry for his boyfriend...wtf😔