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thatoneidiotdts · 2 years

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What did we do to deserve this • Prologue

A/n: I don't think I have anything to say lmao🧍‍. Anyways gifs aren't mine

Wordcount: 4.7k

MASTERLIST/ WARNINGS: HERE (VERY IMPORTANT TO READ)

“350 dollars?! Last time I bought it was 325?!”

The man raised his arm in protest, you glared at him and sighed as the man beside you tried to stand in front of you but you motioned him to stop.

“Inflation buddy, and I notified you in person and you sure were sober so don’t play dumb with me. Two 8-balls are 350, If you don't buy you will have to get another plug, boss doesn’t like people who back out.”

He stared at you eagerly as he slouched his shoulders and handed you the money in silence. You hummed in satisfaction as you counted out the money, lucky for him he gave you the correct amount. “A’right you can go now. Next week at the usual time?”

He nodded and put the two bags in his jacket and walked out of the alleyway. “I don't need your protection James, I don’t understand why is the boss making you babysit me” You looked up, meeting the brown eyes of the taller man.

“Don’t look at me like that boss lady! For your information I don't want to be here either but our boss said that I ‘have to pick up some of your skills’ so here I am” He said as you groaned in anger “Dont fuclking call me that!” you snorted as your mood quickly changed “That should be the last one, drive me to hideout and you're free to go”

He nodded and walked over to the car. The drive was quiet as you made sure to recount the money in the bags and rechecked the client list, after today you were pretty sure you’ve set a new record. The car stopped in front of an old building. To the people outside it looked like a lowly desk job kind of building but you knew better.

After the guards looked over your and your partner's ID they let you in. You let out a tired sigh as you walked into your office and finally sat down in your chair. After a bit of thinking you’ve decided to count the money now so that you could be free later.

The money needed to be split into six groups which you and other dealers called Boss, Supply department, Protection department, Lab department, General expenses and Personal stash. First and last are pretty straight forward.

Supply department supplied you and other drug dealers with drugs you didn't have the equipment to make. The protection department serves as the protection for the dealers in case there is a violent client or police interference. Lab department, which produces or grows its own drugs like weed or meth. And finally, the General expenses, it includes all expenses that take care of the building and provide food, toiletries,cleaning supplies and other stuff.

After splitting the money into four bigger cases and one smaller one you kept the rest of the money for yourself. Even though you were allowed to only keep 5% out of each drug run for today you still ended up with exactly 6400$.

You took two cases in each hand and exited your office. After delivering each case to the right room you went to the break room. At this time of day most people were taking their break so you almost felt excited to have an audience.

You opened the double door swiftly as everyone looked at you, smirking to yourself as you walked over to the chalkboard with various things written on it. Everyone around you knew what you were doing as soon as you erased the name and the money amount of the previous record holder and watched in excitement.

After writing down your name you slowly wrote the amount of money.

[Name] Hargrove - 128 000$

As you wrote down the final line of the dollar sign the room erupted in shouting and cheering, Many hugged you as you were being congratulated from left to right. “Good job kid, that's the first six digit in a single run!” One of the older guards said and patted you on the back.

After the crowd dialed down you went to make yourself something to eat. The word about your success spread like wildfire and many people who weren’t present in the room at the moment came in throughout the day to congratulate you on your success.

As you were packing up your bags and putting the money you made today in it you heard a knock on the door of your office. After giving permission to the person knocking, the door cracked open. You almost groaned as you saw the boss's personal secretary walk in.

She congratulated you for your milestone and informed you to follow her. You knew exactly where you were going. After exiting the elevator on the highest floor you were met with a hallway with only one door at the end and one to the right.

“Boss wants to have a talk with you.” She said as she entered her own office and closed the door after herself. You looked at the long hallway and took in a deep breath and started to walk towards the door. After knocking on the door you anxiously waited in front of it.

“Come in.”

After hearing those words you took a deep breath and opened the door. You were met with a large office and in the middle of it there was a table and an empty chair in front of it. The boss motioned you to sit down so you did. His shoulders were relaxed and he looked pleased with your work.

“I’ve heard you’ve brought some serious money back today, I'm pleasantly surprised that you weren’t stealing our cargo! Adding to the fact that you never stole a single dollar, got into big trouble with the cops and worked here since you were 12 it's safe to say you're one of the best dealers here.”

You were scared of knowing where he was going with this.

“I'll get to the point, I want to hire you full time, soon we will be getting in contact with more high end clients and I need my best workers to grill them into buying more, you have a record of doing that successfully. So what do you say?”

Your boss said as he extended his hand to you, expecting a handshake. For a moment you shook your head which made your boss raise an eyebrow at your rejection.

“You know I can only work summers and holidays until I graduate. I have a family to take care of and school to finish. In a year sure but I doubt the high end clients will stick until then.”

The man in front of you groaned in frustration “Kid this could be the best deal of your life and you're throwing it away because of school?” You nodded, there was an awkward pause before he continued “I think I can hold down the deal until next august, but I'm not giving you more than a year. Understand?”

You smirked and nodded your head. This time you were the one to extend your hand first, he smiled and gladly returned the handshake. “One final thing.” He pulled out a case from under the table and put it in front of you.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you stared at the cese. The man in front of you motioned for you to open it. Your blood froze for a second before you cautiously opened the case, your eyes were met with cash, a lot of cash.

“Since you’ve been such a good worker I’ve wanted to throw you a bone you deserve” You didn’t know what to do, there must be a catch somewhere, anywhere. “This barely compares to the money you will be making soon. I'm thrilled to see you next august [Name]”

There it was, a tool to get you hooked. “How much is in here?” He chuckled at your question “Around 50 grand, It will soon feel like nothing kid.” You gulped and nodded. After carefully taking the case off the table you said your goodbyes and left the office.

Leaving the building and getting the case safely home was one of the most stressful things you ever did. You didn't take your goldwing since you were in the middle of upgrading it so you needed to take the metro and a bus home.

You never felt more relieved when you opened the door to your house. After taking off your shoes you heard soft thumping on the stairs and quickly hid the case under some coats. Looking up you were met with your little brother who gasped when he saw you. He instantly rushed down the stairs and pulled you into a hug.

“You're late again! You promised to be home on time” You sighed as you gave him an apologetic look and a kiss on his hairline “Sorry kiddo, boss gave me extra paperwork that needed to be worked on immediately” He nodded, accepting your apology and excuse.

“Neil’s home?”

“Nah, he, Susan and Max went out again…” Without us, he wanted to continue.

Toby sat on the couch in the living room and you sat beside him, suddenly an idea popped up in your head “I'll tell you what kid. I'll order some pizza for you, me and Billy and we spend the rest of the day watching Star Wars. What do you say?”

The little kid suddenly looked at you, instead of happiness on his face you were met with confusion and concern “Will we be able to afford that?” You sighed and nodded “We will kiddo, You are not the one who needs to be worried about that ok?”

Hearing that the money won't be a problem he instantly got a smile on his face and nodded vigorously. “Hell yeah!! You go get Billy, he calls the pizza place and I prepare the cassettes, ok?” You laughed at his enthusiasm and nodded. As soon as he went to the storage room you got up and took the case and ran upstairs.

After hiding the case beneath the sink in the bathroom you knocked on the door of your bedroom you shared with your brother. there was no response. Pushing down the doorknob and opening the door you were met with your normal bedroom, except the shades were closed.

In the dark you could see the figure of your brother on his bed. He was probably taking a nap, you quickly got the case and pushed it under your bed carefully. A small sniffle from your brother was enough to know something was wrong. After spending so much time around your brothers you learned almost all of their behavior patterns.

You calmly walked over to the side of his bed and looked at his face and smirked to yourself “I know you’re not sleeping, dumbass. C’mon get your ass up.” For a few moments he laid there before he opened his eyes and hummed, thinking he could play off the ‘i just woke up’ lie.

You wanted to laugh at him and his terrible attempt to lie but you noticed the large bruise on his chest trying to peek out of his tank top. “Billy what is that?” He shook his head, and looked to the side, telling you that it's nothing, lies.

“Was it Neil?” You asked, his shoulders slouched as he didn't even try to defend himself, he just nodded. Rage overtook your body, that prick, after a fight years ago between the two of you he stopped hitting Billy and Toby when you were home, a coward.

A part of you wanted to walk away, to hit something and yell until you cooled off but you knew your brother needed you here more. You sat down beside him, as you tried to put a comforting hand on his back he pushed it away.

“I don't need your comfort” He stood up as he said that, he quickly took out a shirt and his leather jacket out of the closet and got dressed while you sat on the bed, still a little bit shocked. “I'll be heading out” You tried to protest but before you could the door swung open.

“I found the cassettes!! Did you already call the pizza place Billy?” Toby said as he looked up at his older brother. Billy scoffed as he pushed him to the side, making Toby almost trip but he found his balance at the last second. “Don't know what youre talking about twerp. I won't be back until morning.”

Billy said and walked out of the bedroom, moments later you and Toby could hear the front door open and close. You looked down at the boy in front of you and sighed. “Eh too bad for him cuz he is missing out big time. I'll call the pizza place and we can-”

“Don’t…”

Toby suddenly said as he put down the cassettes on your nightstand. “I'll go to my room” You could feel your heart break at the way his voice cracked as he quickly walked to his room. You've decided to leave him be for some time.

After closing and locking the bedroom door you pulled out both suitcases of money and opened them. For a thousandth time you recounted the money in your personal stash which was now over 43 thousand dollars. With the money you got today now you had over 99 thousand dollars.

You could feel tears form on the corners of your eyes. Now you had well over enough to send both of your brothers to college and you were pretty sure that they wouldn’t even have to worry about rent either, maybe there is enough for Toby’s future car too.

It took you some time to cry out your happiness before returning the money back under your bed. After unlocking the door you walked down the hall to the room your brother and Max shared. You took in a deep breath and knocked on the door.

You could hear sniffling and sobbing behind the door but they quickly stopped “Come in!” As you opened the door you were met with Toby who sat on his bed and tried his best to not look like he was crying but as soon as you wrapped your arms around his small frame he started to sob again.

“He’s an asshole [Name]! He hates us, he hasn't spoken to me in days and he doesn’t even want to watch Star Wars with us anymore!”

You softly rocked him back and forth as you kissed him on the top of his head “He doesn’t hate us, he’s just… complicated, that's all. You know he probably has problems outside-”

“What's the last time he stood up for you or me?! As a kid you made dad stop his bullshit by hitting him like he was your kid not the other way around and Billy as an adult can't even say thank you when you get him another rock or something! Does he even know it’s your money? The money you spent all of your summers getting while he didn’t even try to get a job?”

When he stopped yelling he looked at you, his brows furrowed and his lips trembling. You didn’t even know what to say to him because he was right. It was true, you had a fight with Neil once so bad that you had to pay your own rent and utilities ever since. After a moment of collecting yousef so that you don’t instantly spill all of your feelings you said

“You may not notice but he takes a lot of hits for us. When i'm not home he takes blame for a lot of stuff me, you and Max mess up. He cares, I know he does, he is just really shitty at showing it.”

For a moment he kept his eyes on you, he wanted to hate Billy, he really did, but he knew that you were as equally right as he was. He returned his head to lay on your chest and continued to sob, in that moment you were at your breaking point.

The two sat there, in each other’s arms for what felt like hours, crying into each other's shoulders. After a while he let go of you and you wiped the tears off of his small face. “You ok kiddo?” You said as you ruffled his curly hair, he giggled and nodded. “I'll go now, that alright with you?”

Toby suddenly got a look on his face that made you ask him what's wrong. After a few moments of silence he whispered out something which you didn’t understand. “I didn't catch that one kiddo, mind repeating?”

“Could you tuck me in?”

That question almost floored you, you didn't tuck him in for at least a year now and you didn't tuck in Billy in at least 5. You slowly nodded and gave him his pj’s from his closet. You turned around and waited for him to change into them.

“I'm done!” Toby said which gave you a signal to turn around. After he got into his bed you pulled the covers up until his neck and tucked them in. After giving him a kiss on the forehead you turned on the nightlight you whispered out “Night kiddo, see you in the morning.”

He nodded and whispered a good night back to you. You turned off the main light and went out of the room, softly closing the door after yourself. After locking the door of your bedroom you dropped down on your bed, you definitely weren't sleepy and you definitely were bored out of your mind.

You looked around your boring room and you locked eyes with the handle of your brother’s nightstand. You looked to your own nightstand and looked back to your brother's. You suddenly got an idea. You quickly got up and walked to the door, making sure if you actually locked it.

After confirming the door is fully locked you skipped over to your brother’s nightstand and carefully opened. You noted the place of every little thing before taking out your favorite erotic magazine and gently closed the drawer. After getting comfortable on your bed you opened the magazine and got a small bblack viberator out of your drawer.

You shamelessly looked at the tits and waist of every single model in the magazine while using the viberator to play with clit. Muffling yourself with your shirt in your mouth you massaged one of your tits as you felt your high getting close.

Soon you came across your favorite picture in the whole magazine. The model looked absolutely magical, the lighting and the shadows made her tits and thighs look perfect. From the way she was sitting on the bed to her hands gently cupping her perfect tits made you want to finish way too early.

From the way your legs and hips were slightly shaking and from the deep, rising feeling in your stomach you knew you were about to finish. The wonderful feeling overtook your whole body as you tried to ride out the orgasm as best as you could.

You gasped softly as you could feel your clit become sensitive and overstimulated. It took you a good while to fully calm down from your high. While standing up you almost tripped from how wonky your legs felt. You quickly returned the magazine exactly to its original place and put your vibrator back into your nightstand and only after that quietly unlocked the bedroom door.

Tucking yourself into your bed you could feel your eyelids become heavier and heavier as you turned your back to the door. After a while you finally let sleep overtook your whole body.

–Next day–

You groaned as you heard stuff shuffling around you, from how groggy you felt you were pretty sure it was way too early to wake up. When you turned around you were met with Billy who probably also just woke up. Soon he noticed that you were awake and said good morning to you.

You groaned in annoyance as you picked one of your pillows and threw it at his head. “What the hell was that for?” He whispered-yelled as you pointed to the door. “You better go apologize to the twerp right now. He just wanted to watch Star Wars and eat pizza with you and you shooed him away like he is some dog Billy.”

He groaned “I'm not goin-”

“Billy. Go. Apologize.”

Before he could protest again he realized how serious you were and decided he didn’t want to die today. He sighed and exited the bedroom, he was lucky since Max, Susan and Neil always had breakfast early, which left the three of you alone to wake up at your own pace.

Billy stood in front of Toby’s door for a good while before he knocked. “Come in!” He was surprised the kid was even awake. From the way Toby froze Billy figured he was expecting you on the other side. The older brother noticed the dark eyebags and the weird project in front of the younger one.

“So uhh.. what’cha building there twerp?”

“It’s a rocket, this is just a second prototype. First failed because the eight percent diluted acetic acid and sodium bicarbonate didn’t give enough power to accelerate to my desired height.”

For a moment Billy was confused before he understood what Toby was saying.

“You mean baking soda and alcohol vinegar?”

Toby nodded “Yes, eight percent diluted acetic acid and sodium bicarbonate ”

Billy chuckled as he sat down beside the small boy, careful so that he doesn’t accidentally knock over anything, “Spent all night building it?” Toby nodded “You should sleep more kiddo, astronauts sleep a lot.”

Toby hummed in understanding and continued to glue the pieces of the rocket together. Both of them stayed in an awkward silence until Billy let out a sigh and started to speak “Listen kid..I just.. wanted to apologize..I'm sorry for treating you like that”

Toby gently put down the pieces of the rocket and looked up at his older brother. “Wrong words. Try again.”

Billy scoffed, he knew exactly what he needed to say.

“Alright, Alright… I apologize”

“Fooooor?”

The older brother let out another sigh. “I apologize for treating you and our sister like shit”

Toby smiled when he heard Billy add ‘our sister’ “Alright i'll accept. BUT you have to tell me what got you so mad yesterday:”

He looked at the small boy in front of him in confusion. “Nothing? I had a long day. That's all” Toby made a sound similar to the one that is played on game shows when someone answers a question wrong “Wrooong! When You have a ‘long day’ you go in the garage to work on your car or beat up that old boxing bag. You never mysteriously drive off into the night!”

Billy never realized how smart and observant Toby is, he probably picked that up from you. For a while he stayed silent before giving in “Ok twerp i'll spill but you gotta look shocked when Neils says it alright?”

Toby nodded and waited for his brother to spill the beans. “We are moving. Tomorrow” His whole face dropped, his mouth opened wide but before he could scream Billy put his hand over his mouth “Quiet. If Neil hears im dead” Toby quickly pulled his hand off of his mouth.

“He can't do that! I don't wanna finish my final year of middle school somewhere else! Thats stupid” He whispered-yelled as the door suddenly swong open “You two dorks made up?” You asked as you closed the door behind you.

“We are moving!” Toby said as you froze on the spot “Damnitt kid..” Billy quietly whispered as the tree of you stood in your spots frozen. You slapped your hands over your face and dropped to the floor in a dramatic way.

After a few minutes of laying on the floor you asked “That's why you acted so weirdly yesterday didn’t you.” You asked and Bily let out a quiet “Yeah”. After that Billy warned you to act shocked when Neil told you and you nodded in understanding.

The three of you went downstairs for breakfast and were met with Max, Neil and Susan just finishing their breakfast. As Expected Neil told you that you are moving to somewhere in indiana after breakfast and you and Tody acted all shocked and baffled but the real shock came after that.

“I've also planned to sell that Goldwing of yours [Name]. Someone offered good money for it.”

Toby and Billy suddenly got quiet. You treated that motorcycle like it was your own child, you loved to polish and upgrade it when you could. You stared at the man in front of you without saying a word, you knew he wanted your reaction nothing else.

“How long is the drive?” You simply asked.

“New house is in Indiana, so that's gonna be well over 36 hours of driving not counting stops and sleeping. Around 5 days of only driving I would guess.”

You nodded and took a sip out of your cup, trying not to shake in anger “I'll be able to drive her, i ain't letting you sell her”

Neil protested against your words. “There is no way you will be able to-”

“I. Will. Simple as that”

You gave him a stern answer, he could argue with you sure but he knew how down right stubborn sometimes you were so he decided to let it go for now. After breakfast you helped Billy and Toby pack and in return they helped you pack. The whole afternoon you’ve spent driving around town to say goodbye to your friends.

Your final destination was your workplace. After getting in you requested an emergency meeting with your boss. As expected your boss was very displeased to find out one of his best workers won't be working for the next year but he was fine with it since he understood you can’t exactly run away and the deal still stood.

After finally getting home you dropped down on the couch in between Toby and Billy. You noticed how Susan, Max and Neil were getting ready to head out “Where are you guys going?”

“Oh me and Neil need to pick up some stuff from our offices and Max is going to the arcade. We are staying out late”

You nodded and the three of you said goodbyes as they were leaving. For a while you stayed quiet before you looked at Billy then Toba “Pizza and Star Wars?” Toby jumped from the couch and ran upstairs to get the tapes. “Billy?”

He groaned and finally nodded as he stood up from the couch “New york and two peperony?” You nodded “Add a Mexican!”

And that’s how you've spent your evening. Eating pizza with your two brothers while watching a bunch of people you didn’t care about fight with funny looking swords. During the whole time Toby talked about every. single. detail he saw on screen but you didn't really care.

At the middle of the third move you noticed how sleepy both of them were, not even ten minutes later Billy’s head was on your collarbone and Toby’s was in your lap. You sighed as you closed your eyes and let the sounds of the movie lull you to sleep.

–Next day–

In the morning you had to wake up pretty early. The three of you ate the leftover pizza and put all of your luggage in Billy’s car and started the long journey. The drive was grueling and painful, your ass was hurting constantly and you had to make more gas breaks since your motorcycle couldn’t carry as much gas as a car could.

After five days of eating gas station food, sleeping in shitty motels and driving non stop you finally made it to your destination. In the middle of nowhere, Indiana there was a small town called Hawkins. You finally got off your goldwing as you parked in the driveway.

After you unpacked everything you dropped on your new, way less comfortable bed and instantly fell asleep. School was starting in two days after all, and you needed all the sleep you could get after that drive.

#x female reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #stranger things #stranger things billy #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #stranger things nancy #nancy wheeler x reader

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no-psi-nan · 2 years

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youtube

Saiki K ASMR:

POV Akechi Touma won't finish leaving your damn house (and you have ESP)

Content warning: bad sensory experience (especially with headphones on <- optional but recommended for the full, awful Saiki experience)

This is my first attempt at voice-acting! I've been wanting to do this for months, but Touma Tuesday gave me the impetus to finally do it!

My sincerest apologies to Yuki Kaji for ever thinking I could match him, I have so much more respect for how amazing a job he did after trying to do it myself lmfao.

No, I did not speed up the audio, I can actually talk that fast (though I did take out the spaces between sentences lol, I don't have ESP). I wrote all of the horribly complex dialogue as well!

Here is a version of this that's NOT sensory hell:

youtube

And if you haven't already, check out The Disastrous Life of Saiki K!!

Transcript (~900 words), tools, and assets used under the cut:

Assets Used:

- GIFs from @tomakechi! Thank you for your service... - Akechi's Theme "幼馴染 (Childhood Friend)" from the Saiki K OST 2 - Eyecatches & Subtitles from the Saiki K OST

Tools Used:

- Audacity (recording, editing) (I took radio production as an elective in high school and I'm happy I can finally make it everyone's problem lol) - MorphVOX Pro (pitch shift) (I could not for the life of me figure out how to mimic Yuki Kaji's amazing Akechi voice, which is high-pitched but still masculine, so I settled for something high schooler-ish) - PowerPoint (GIF combo) (HitFilm Express can't handle gifs 🙄) - Canva (intros & outros) - Microsoft Movie Maker (video editing) - YouTube Studio (syncing captions) (Had to manually tweak almost all of it to have captions on only one line at a time for evil purposes lmao) (and then Google banned my new account for ??? reasons so I prepared the vids for tumblr, then they unbanned it...) - Handbrake (burning in the captions) (Actually it took a lot of extra effort to make the captions THIS awful so I hope they cause a decent amount of psychic damage hsfjdlshfks)

Spoken Part:

Good night to you as well, my dear friend! As is the general social expectation, I will take my leave upon receiving this polite dismissal, but first, please allow me to recommend that you treat yourself to some hot chocolate before you likewise retire for the evening. In addition to its comforting warmth, hot chocolate imparts more antioxidants than either red wine or the much-vaunted green tea, while boosting cardiovascular health. Personally, I quite enjoy adding a pinch of nutmeg to my hot chocolate, which I highly recommend for the pleasant kick of spice. It also strikes me as quite humorous that it is such a commonplace occurrence to add nutmeg, a known toxin and psychoactive agent, to our food for flavor. Oh, do not be concerned, experiencing nutmeg toxicity would require a far higher dose than what can reasonably be used as a spice on any sort of dish, whether sweet or savory. The only truly deadly aspect of nutmeg is its blood-soaked history, as colonial powers slaughtered the native inhabitants of the islands from whence they came in order to control the market. And these waves of European colonialism not only left multitudes of people and landscapes scarred by violence, but also led to the rise of modern-day capitalism and its inexorable exploitation of both humanity and the natural world. This very same force has created a so-called sleep epidemic, wherein long working hours, constant economic stressors and the current "always-on" nature of media perpetuate chronic insomnia amongst large swathes of society. For this reason, it is highly beneficial to establish effective sleep hygiene in order to avoid the unfortunate health consequences of insufficient high-quality rest, such as cardiovascular morbidity and metabolic disease. Therefore, a hot chocolate should be just the ticket for a full and healthy night's sleep, hence my earlier recommendation!

Observation Part:

Oh, my friend appears quite tired tonight, continuing an unfortunate trend marked by bags under their eyes and general fatigue. Proper sleep is incredibly important, so hopefully a kind suggestion may help ease their journey towards a more restful night. However, I did also identify many potentially problematic aspects for their sleep hygiene, such as their lack of a consistent routine and a bedroom full of sensory distractions. Perhaps I should procure for them a set of blackout curtains on the next gift-giving occasion. And on the following, perchance a boxed novel series would be appropriate as a wind-down activity? After all, while novels can be quite simulating, physical books lack the electronic blue light that can negatively impact the body's circadian rhythm. On the other hand, extended sessions of what they call "binge-reading" can also wreak havoc on a sleep schedule, so I should ascertain that the novels are not too stimulating. This may be self-defeating, however, as boring novels are of little use to anyone. Perhaps a new set of bedclothes would make for a more effective gift, as my recent acquisition of new pajamas has been a welcome change. Adding Kegel exercises to my nighttime routine has also been even more effective than I could have hoped for with regards to my little urinary incontinence issue! The latest volleys between my parents suggest that several of their marital problems could have been resolved if they'd developed similar fitness. But enough of the idle speculation, perhaps I should take my leave shortly in order to further develop my assigned portion of the historical survey project. The wording of the task was quite prescriptive, and while I will certainly take up this qualm with our lecturer, I must still progress steadily each night in order to avoid derailing my sleep with a last-minute frenzied effort.

Hyperfixation Part:

I fear that although the time of my typical nightly retirement is near at hand, my mind remains quite overactive in a manner that stereotypically renders me unable to fall asleep in a reasonable fashion. Perhaps I shall take recourse in a comforting mug of hot chocolate myself in the hopes of inspiring the requisite relaxation. Though isn't that quite ironic, that the hot chocolate so lauded as a bedtime treat contains some of the same stimulants sought-after in coffee for wakefulness. To be certain, the amount of caffeine in chocolate is rather limited when compared with coffee beans. The risk of staying awake would naturally be much exacerbated if the chocolate had been prepared in the traditional Mesoamerican fashion with chili peppers. It is absolutely fascinating how they sometimes prepared cacao with annatto in order to create a bloodied, frothy drink that harkened to the practice of ritual sacrifice. And for cacao, often used as currency by the Aztec empire, to be associated so strongly with religion raises interesting questions about the historical intersection of culture, food, and legal tender. A similar example comes to mind, that of coffee, which began as a ritual component in Sufi circles but is now the most traded global commodity after petroleum. Despite hosting a ludicrously profitable industry, the farmers in developing countries that produce the beans are exploited mercilessly and live in poverty. More victims for the capitalist machine, which is powered by the same crop they produce. The backbone of coffee's extreme popularity is its caffeine content, after all, as the world's most widely consumed legal psychoactive drug. In the end, coffee only antagonizes adenosine receptors to fool the brain into believing that it is not tired, and to pay the price of overexertion later on.

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 4 years

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📑 Wed 15 July 🧐

Simon Jones has announced a One Direction anniversary plan: he tells us that "alongside the fan frenzy" (they got that part right anyway) Sony will be presenting us with... a WeBSiTE!! Omgggg okay don't all freak out at once yes it's true: they are blessing us with, uh, a digital timeline of the band with "exciting activations." Given that many of us already spend our leisure time looking at digital content reliving the last ten years of One Direction, the underwhelm is real, unless they really deliver with the "steaming (sic) partner activations," LMAO. High hopes there lemme tell you! There will also be a "10 years of 1D anniversary celebration video," (taking us "right up to the hiatus" so five years actually and no solo anything), yes hello there Ben Winston we can see your grubby little fingerprints, and "reformatted EPs...featuring b-sides and rare songs...for fans to rediscover" (my emphasis cause that means nothing new but listen if anything involving/acknowledging Home happens I might consider a formal apology for taking the piss and give them their due.) Really when fans are disappointed it isn't a perfume, well just OUCH. Still, there's no indication the boys have any involvement whatsoever in this steaming hot, uh, content, so the hope that they're up to something on their own continues.

Maybe relevant to that disconnect between the band and the label plans (maybe not): it was announced today that Syco has been split into its TV and music parts, with Simon Cowell buying out the TV half and Sony retaining sole control of the music holdings. The Sun says that Louis' departure was the "final straw" yes bitch BREAK THEM! Syco Music as we know it isn't officially dead yet, but this sure looks like the beginning of the end, so feel free to start dancing on its grave! This is certainly part of the same picture as Louis' announcement but we don't know how, really. Syco music holdings went to Sony in the deal, and possibly current Syco artists will be sent to other Sony labels, but Louis' announcement would seem to tell us that he won't be included in that and has jumped free of the sinking wreckage in time to choose his next steps himself, something he should have great leverage for thanks to his dedicated fanbase. Mike Navarro, an exec at Columbia Records, liked Louis' post about leaving Syco which got people looking to Columbia, but he's also a former 1D associate and often likes Louis' posts so it might just be another one for the 'everyone likes Louis better than they like Syco' file. Anyway Simon isn't going broke yet (The Sun fawns over the "eight figures" he got in the deal but rushes vaguely past the amount he paid them for the TV wing, let's hope it was at least seven figures) but he will no longer own or control One Direction's music catalog. FUCK YES.

In other news Harry took a fan pic in London wearing his bee shirt yesterday and liked a post wishing Ben Winston's dad- the guy who's trying to make cis male pregnancy possible- a happy birthday, Liam followed a former Marine/motivational speaker and an actor known for war movies and is hyping up his upcoming concert, Louis wrote a sweet testimonial for vocal coach Helene's website and released some new merch and continued his DMAs stanning, Niall tweeted about football, ignoring the angry masses of his fans who would still like to have a word with him about his vacation, and Briana Jungwirth would like us to know that conspiracy theories are real and so is "media manipulation."

Gigi has been hiding her baby bump despite everyone making a big fuss about it, even going so far as to cover her belly in a recent photo with a Tinkerbell emoji, which most took to be a strategy to have a dramatic Vogue cover exclusive reveal, but today at last we've seen the bump (and her round rosy preggo face too) in a live. Zaby on board!

And did Harry's mom Anne unfollow Eleanor? She unfollowed someone and isn't following Eleanor, so either she did or she was not following but was liking and commenting on her pics sometimes anyway. If it's significant we'll know that only in retrospect, like pretty much everything.

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sodone-withlife · 3 years

Text

one sentence

i saw sumayyah‘s answer to an anon’s ask (so all credit for this idea goes to them) about that scene in Omnivore where Rossi is offering Hotch his gun and this thing pretty much wrote itself (which is exceedingly rare lmao), so here is something that i thought would be just a few hundred words but ended up being a really long interpretation of the Foyet arc with hurt/minimal comfort with a good amount of pre-Mortch (or you can see them as platonic, i think it’s up for interpretation).

also, just a quick heads up, i love Papa Rossi, but for the purposes of this fic, it might seem a little bash-y towards him

warnings: quite a bit of suicidal ideation, (almost) attempted suicide, implied/referenced suicide, canon-typical violence, canonical character death

word count: 7.9k words

The highlighted words stared back at Hotch as Shaunessy’s words echoed in his mind.

A deal with the devil.

“Yes, that’s exactly right,” he told Garcia.

“Because I found it, do I get to know what it’s about?” the analyst asked, unrepentantly curious. Hotch sent her a look.

Might as well. Shaunessy’s not going to last much longer, and we’ll be called in… “The Reaper,” he said simply.

“Like—the Boston Reaper?” Garcia lowered her voice as she named the notorious killer. Hotch nodded. “I didn’t even know the BAU worked on that case,” she remarked.

“1998,” Hotch informed her, remembering caffeine-fueled sleepless nights and the palpable fear on the streets. “It was my first case for the BAU as lead profiler.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but we don’t have a profile for the Reaper in the system, do we?”

Not in the system, no. “That’ll be all Penelope, you can go home now,” Hotch told Garcia, turning to the bottom drawer of the shelf behind his desk as the analyst nodded and left. Pulling out a worn folder bursting with papers and photos, he placed the newspaper clipping and the evidence bag protecting the contract into it. He left it to the side and refocused on the folder in front of him filled with sheets of old handwritten notes filled with annotations and crossed-out sections.

There will be no sleeping tonight.

Early September, 1998

“You’re sending me?” Hotch was sitting ramrod straight in surprise, blindsided by Gideon’s sudden decision.

“Yeah,” Gideon answered simply, leaning back in his chair as much as he could in the cramped space and looking supremely unperturbed. “Do you not want to go?”

Hotch shook herself out of his shocked state, scrambling to gather his wits. “No—I mean, I’ll go, but—”

“But?”

Hotch carefully evaluated his words. “I’ve only been here a few months, and you’re sending me to Boston—alone—to help with the Reaper case? The case that has been going on for three years, longer than I’ve even been an agent, involving a killer that could probably put the Zodiac to shame?”

The older agent shrugged. “I have to stay and hold down the fort since we are severely understaffed, but I’ll always be a phone call away, and you’re mainly there just to act as eyes for the both of us. You’re not working on this alone.”

Hotch stiffened as a sudden—but careful—warm touch on his hand pulled him out of the spiral of self-doubt he had been teetering over and grounded him. He brought his eyes back to Gideon and was surprised to see complete openness and no signs of deception or maliciousness that he had been forced to learn long ago at the hands of his father.

“I’m not Dave,” Gideon began seriously, “I wasn’t the one who pulled you over here or the one you started out shadowing under, but I do talk to people. I know about your record in prosecution, in Seattle, and in SWAT, and it is very telling. You never doubted yourself before, and I have no doubt that you can handle yourself, so why are you starting now?”

He leaned back, clearly done with the impromptu pep talk that Hotch, still frozen, figured happened once in a blue moon based on what Rossi had told him about the unit before he retired. The cramped room was silent as Hotch felt Gideon watching him struggling with internal strife. Slowly, he released some of the tension that was coiled within him, and Gideon turned back to his stack of consults with an air of satisfaction.

“Start packing, Agent Hotchner. Boston awaits your presence.”

Late November, 1998

“Do you know what the hell is going on?” Hotch immediately asked when the call went through, pacing around his hotel room.

“And a good evening to you too.”

“Gideon.”

“What is it, Hotch?” his tone changed from dry to worried in a heartbeat, hearing the uncharacteristic urgency in his agent’s voice and the lack of nervousness that usually showed his agent’s discomfort towards using the less-formal form of address.

“Shaunessy, the lead detective,” Hotch spat out, throwing the case file that was in his hand on the bed. “He closed the case.”

“And that warrants a phone call at eleven PM, why?”

Hotch bit back a sharp retort, letting out a sharp breath. “You know I’ve been re-interviewing the victims’ friends and family, going through everything they had and lines of investigation that may have been dropped, working the profile along the way, but there have been no viable suspects, even with the accelerated killings,” he said quickly, a mess of emotions swirling inside him. “Gideon, no arrests have been made but he closed the case, just like that.”

“Remind me, when was the last victim?”

“Just over six weeks ago, a month after I got here. I know what you’re thinking,” Hotch said when Gideon didn’t respond, “that the case just went cold, but there were still things I had people following up on. It’s not cold,” he insisted.

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it, Hotch. I know you don’t like it, but the locals have point on this.”

Hotch sighed, but it did nothing to calm him down. “I know,” he said, annoyed. “I’m catching an early train back to DC, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

January 2003

“The Reaper?”

Hotch slammed the folder shut and looked up from his desk, startled. He sent Gideon a glare, glad that no one else was there to see his composure slip, but he only looked vaguely concerned.

“It’s been just over four years,” Gideon commented neutrally. “You’ve had that folder at the bottom of your third drawer, and you’ve pulled it out at least forty different times since ‘98.”

Hotch stared up at him in a challenge. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Gideon shook his head. “Just be careful. Don’t get too drawn into the chase.”

~~~

Sighing as he rubbed the familiar ache on the back of his neck that always appeared during paperwork days and especially stressful cases, Hotch closed his battered folder of notes and opened it back up again. It was almost compulsive at this point, repeating every twenty minutes and each time with the hope something new would catch his attention.

Hotch shifted, the bedsheets suddenly feeling unbearably scratchy and coarse even through his slacks. The case details buzzed around his head incessantly, distracting him from feeling the physical exhaustion and strain caused by the lack of proper sustenance and the stress of a day filled with dead ends.

The sudden ringing shattered the silence of the room, knocking him from his focus. He got up from the bed and warily walked over to the source, picking up the hotel phone and bringing it up to his ear.

“Hotchner,” he said out of habit, only to freeze as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up in reaction to the sudden, heavy breathing. “Who is this?” he demanded, throwing the folder he was still holding back on the bed with dread rising within him.

“If you stop hunting me, I’ll stop hunting them.” His question about the caller’s identity went unanswered, though the cursed words of the contract spoken by the same distorted voice that was heard on the 911 calls from ten years ago was confirmation enough.

Anger flared inside him at the audacity, and he snapped back, “You think I’d take that?”

“It’s a good deal,” the Reaper replied flatly.

“I’ve misjudged you,” he said, some distant part of him wondering how Shaunessy felt when he himself got the offer ten years ago. “I thought you were smarter than this,” he was unable to help the derisive tone.

The silence was long enough for him to wonder how much he had caught him unawares with his response.

“You should take it.”

“And you’ve misjudged me.”

“This is your last chance,” he warned.

Hotch didn’t hesitate. “I don’t make deals. I’m the woman who hunts guys like you.” That got the reaction he was hoping for.

“There are no guys like me,” the killer growled, anger bleeding into his tone.

He scoffed. “You all think that.”

“You’ll regret this,” he warned.

It was said with such certainty that a chill shot down his spine, but it was overshadowed by his anger. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised, promptly hanging up without another word. He walked back around the bed, feeling a sudden need to put as much distance between him and the phone as possible. It was with some hysterical hilarity that he wondered if the next people to stay in this room would know about what had just happened—that a serial killer tried to threaten an FBI agent into surrendering in this room.

Those feelings faded away when a terrible feeling suddenly came over Hotch as he realized the Reaper knew which hotel—which room—he was staying in.

It wasn’t unusual during their cases for an unsub to contact another person in the midst of their crimes, but the memories of Elle in the hospital bed and Morgan in the interrogation room had been seared into his brain.

Both times, unsubs directly went after members of the team.

Unable to remain in the room any longer, he went around unceremoniously throwing his things inside his bags before leaving the hotel room. Paranoia quickly crept back into his consciousness as he quickly made his way down to the parking garage with a hand near his gun, intent on heading straight to the field office.

Only half an hour later, Hotch was staring at the glinting gold ring on the bus driver’s hand, feeling oddly detached from the situation as he was confronted with the consequences of that cursed phone call.

“6 bodies, not including the driver,” Rossi said from the back of the bus. “He put them down with a gun—or, more likely, guns—and finished them off with his knife.”

The call had come straight to the field office, just minutes after Hotch walked into the empty conference room that the team had taken command of. A beat cop had heard a series of gunshots and went to investigate, only to see the macabre painting of blood on the side of the bus with its occupants slumped over inside, unmoving. “Arthur Lanessa’s wedding ring,” Hotch heard himself say for the other agent’s benefit.

“What’d he take?” Rossi made his way down to him in the front.

He snapped back into the present with a sudden surge of anger. “Does it matter?” he asked bitingly, turning and storming away from the crime scene for the relative privacy of a nearby alley.

“Hey,” Rossi called in worry, taken aback by the brash response. “What’s going on with you?”

Hotch stopped some way into the alley and took a deep breath, taking his time before turning to Rossi, who had followed closely behind. “He called me tonight at my hotel room and offered me the deal.”

“What did you say?”

“I hung up on him,” his eyes burned with the sting of tears—whether out of anger at the Reaper or himself, he wasn’t sure. “And then he does this.”

“So you think this is your fault?”

How could it be anything but? He looked away, trying to hide just how shaken he was. “It is.”

The familiar sound of the safety of a gun being released pulled his attention back to the man in front of him. “Well, here, use mine,” Rossi said, holding out his gun to him. “You convinced me. No, no, you hung up on him,” he pushed as he waved him off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You practically killed them yourself—”

You practically killed them yourself.

Killed them yourself.

Killed them.

Yourself.

You.

You did this.

You should have made the deal

Hotch flinched away from the touch of cold metal against his head only to freeze in his place, ice settling in his bones as he processed what was happening. Barely seeing the horror on Rossi’s face, he stared at the other man’s empty hand before he focused in on the gun that was resting against his own head, tilted at an angle. There were five things he knew:

I have a finger on the trigger.

My hand is trembling.

I am still one of the best shots of the agents that are not in a tactical team.

Make one move, fire the gun, only the hearing in my right ear will be gone and the darkness continues to creep towards me.

Make a different move, fire the gun, I’ll leave Jack the legacy of a coward and Haley the knowledge that her efforts back in high school and college were for naught.

You did this, a malicious voice in his head said, sounding oddly like his father. And suddenly, he recalled the memory of the blood droplets hitting him and the ringing in his ears the first time he witnessed a gun go off when he was nine.

Slowly, deliberately, Hotch met Rossi’s horrified and guilt-filled expression and lowered the gun from his head. Carefully measuring his steps, he moved forward and pressed the gun into the older agent’s hand, which dropped down to the side, the weight of the gun now accompanied by something unseen, something much heavier.

Not sparing him another glance, Hotch turned and walked back out of the alley.

This isn’t the time nor place to break.

But in the end, he didn’t have a choice.

“Foyet escaped.”

Hotch’s blood ran cold as he processed JJ’s words before he roughly placed his mug onto the desk and stood up from his chair, following JJ outside to the bullpen that was full of noise and movement.

“Guards found him in his cell vomiting blood and convulsing, they rushed him to the prison hospital,” JJ explained quickly as they made their way down the catwalk. Hotch twitched as he heard Rossi’s office door open behind him, the man coming out to see what the commotion was about.

“Get me the US Marshal’s Office,” Hotch ordered, making the executive decision to ignore the older agent in favor of getting down to business.

“I already called Don Reilly. I offered our assistance, he said they’d call us if they needed it.”

Prentiss rushed to the trio, holding a phone up to her ear. “The Boston field office just identified documents from Foyet’s house,” she reported.

Reid approached the agents gathered in the middle of the room, holding out a printout of what looked to be a set of blueprints. “They’re schematics for the electrical, heating, and water ducts of the East Woburn Correctional Facility.”

Hotch looked at him blankly. “He had the schematics.”

“And not just for Woburn—for every jail, prison, and courthouse in Massachusetts.”

“And ten years to plan,” Rossi added, a heavy silence following as everyone turned to the TV.

Finally, Garcia turned around. “They’re going to find him, right?” she asked worriedly.

Eyes still trained on Foyet's mugshot on the TV, Hotch was completely certain in his answer. “No, they’re not,” he said, just as the memory of Foyet’s words rose to the forefront of his mind, unbidden.

If you know me so well, how come so many had to die to bring you here?

I’m going to be more famous than you realize.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, trying to get a hold of the wave of nausea that suddenly overcame him. He brushed past the team, purposely heading out of the bullpen for one of the bathrooms that was further away for the sake of keeping the team and their concern off his back.

Within minutes he was throwing up bile and the small amount of alcohol he had drank back in his office into the sink, thanking the god he never believed in that the bathroom was rather secluded so there wouldn’t be anyone catching him in this moment of weakness. His eyes burned for the second time in less than twenty-four hours—only this time, a few traitorous tears managed to escape from underneath his eyelids.

The taste of bile was strong as he turned on the tap and splashed his face with cold water, stiffening when he heard the door swing open and closed. Looking up to the mirror, he was both relieved and unsurprised to see Morgan locking the door behind him.

“You’ve been avoiding Rossi,” Morgan commented quietly. Hotch huffed a sardonic laugh, straightening up and turning around to face him, leaning against the sink for support. It was a familiar situation, one first started years ago when it was just them and Gideon, and stopped after the team started growing. Then New York happened and Hotch had to de-stress in a gas station they stopped at on the drive back to Quantico, and their secret rendezvous started happening again, when cases hit too close to home for either of them.

Somehow he always knows what the root problem is. “Was I that obvious?”

Morgan shook his head. “You know you hide it well. I’ve just known you far longer than any of the others, besides Rossi, of course.” He didn’t go on, waiting on the other to decide the direction the conversation would go.

Deciding to go for complete honesty, Hotch swallowed, tilting his head up and avoiding Morgan’s eyes. “He called me at my hotel room and offered me the deal.”

To his credit, Morgan only stepped closer, face creased in concern and a hint of knowing. “I said no, and he shot up a bus,” Hotch continued tonelessly. “I lost it in an alley near the crime scene. Dave had pulled out his gun and was trying to make a point about self-flagellation, but—” he cut himself off and shook his head frustratedly.

“I don’t know what happened. One moment I was just angry, and the next moment I was aiming a gun at my head,” he met Morgan’s eyes desperately, stern facade completely gone. “I don’t know what I wanted to do—I don’t,” his voice cracked as he sagged against the sink and his trembling became more pronounced. He quickly covered his mouth as a sob tried to escape his throat, prompting Morgan to move.

It was surprising to both him and Morgan how willingly he melted into Morgan’s body when the man reached out to stabilize him, but the sensation of the embrace was oddly calming for both of them. Neither spoke as they stood in the bathroom, not even as Morgan felt his shirt getting wet from the tears that Hotch finally let fall, and not even as the crying became more audible.

Now, they would stay in the bathroom and soak up the comfort that they offered each other. They would talk about Foyet’s taunts and what Hotch confessed later.

But later never came, because life never waits, and neither do unsubs.

Soon, they were racing against the clock as Reid got infected with an engineered strain of anthrax

Soon, they were investigating one of the worst, stomach-turning crimes they had seen.

When they got back from the pig farm, Hotch only asked the team for a bare-bones report of the investigation and let them leave to the comfort of their homes while he stayed behind and dealt with the rest of the paperwork and red tape that was involved because of their foray into Canadian jurisdiction.

It was past midnight when Hotch finally left the office and entered his apartment with the intent of pulling out a glass of scotch and staying on his couch with a book, knowing there was no way he was going to fall asleep that night.

But Foyet was waiting, and Hotch was weakened by the exhaustion and stress of two all-nighters in a row.

That night, as his team was sleeping in their beds, dead to the world while he was slowly bleeding out and floating in and out of consciousness in his own apartment, he could only take comfort in the fact that his death sealed Foyet’s fate. There was no way Morgan the team—hell, even Strauss, or anyone in the bureau—would stop hunting his killer to exact their revenge.

He faded into unconsciousness with the expectation that that was it.

He slowly regained consciousness to the sharp smell of antiseptic and the unpleasantly familiar beeping of a heart monitor. Fatigue settling heavily over his whole body was the next sensation that registered in his foggy mind, and then the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Where am I?” he forced out through a dry throat, eyes still closed.

“In the hospital,” Rossi, his mind told him. He opened his eyes only to close them again when he was met with blindingly bright lights, letting out a pained breath.

“How did I get here?”

“Foyet drove you.”

Morgan. He drew in a shaky breath as dull, pulsing pain finally made itself known through the painkillers.

“Can you remember what happened?”

That’s Prentiss.

He vaguely felt his head loll to the side before the memories rushed back into the forefront of his mind. Foyet’s words, the same exact words he remembered thinking back in that alley echoed unpleasantly,

You should have made the deal.

Hotch swallowed again and forced his eyes open through the heavy fatigue. “What did he take?” he asked quietly, unwilling to delve deep into what he remembered and deciding to mentally run through the details about the Reaper case instead.

“What do you mean?” Rossi asked, uncomprehending.

“The Reaper always takes something from his victims.” you’re one of his victims now—shut up and think about that later “Do we know what he took?”

“There was a page missing from your day planner,” his eyes flew open and he looked over at Prentiss as she continued talking, “in the address section, the Bs.”

No— “What did he leave?” Hotch asked, eyes slipping shut as a trickle of fear went down his spine and his brain screamed out in denial.

“I don't know,” Prentiss said, floundering.

“He also leaves something with his victims,” he trailed off in a breathless whisper, unable to sustain the volume he had been speaking at as the throbbing grew stronger.

“I looked over your whole apartment,” Prentiss told him helplessly. “Nothing felt out of place.”

A thought came to him. “Where are my clothes?” Hotch asked, slowly trying to force his eyes open again. He turned his head, watching Prentiss bring a plastic bag over to the hospital bed. Careful to avoid looking directly at his bloodied clothes, Hotch managed to pull the bulging manila envelope closer to him on his chest.

His hands froze as his credentials slipped out and he noticed a folded paper tucked inside. Slowly, shakily, Hotch pulled them out of the envelope and carefully flipped it open.

He sank deeper into the bed as the breath he had been holding was almost punched out of him by the sheer terror that pulsed through him, the treasured picture of Haley and Jack staring back at him tauntingly. That’s my blood, he thought blankly, staring at the red streak he knew was deliberately painted over his family’s smiling faces.

“Haley’s maiden name is Brooks,” he finally said, almost numb to the implications. “I always listed her in the Bs in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands.”

Some kind of precaution it turned out to be.

“He knows where they live.”

And that was that. As Hotch was stuck in flashbacks and lied to Prentiss about what happened, Morgan led the SWAT team in sweeping Hotch’s old house and picked Jack up from his playdate. As Hotch talked with Haley and failed to not think about that night in the alley with the cold metal against his head, Morgan played with Jack outside and failed to not think about Foyet using his credentials so he could continue to torture his friend boss. As Hotch remained confined to the hospital bed, Morgan watched through an upper-story window as Haley and Jack were driven off into the distance to a location unknown to anyone but a select few in the Marshals service.

Nine stab wounds, thirty minutes down time, and six days in the cursed hospital.

The numbers circled through Hotch’s mind when he stepped back into his apartment and had to work through the panic that rose within as he stared towards the place where he knew Foyet had been hiding.

In the end, what brought him back from the edge was when his eyes caught the new security panel that had been installed over where he knew the bullet had made a hole and the sticky note with what he recognized as Morgan’s handwriting that was stuck over it, concisely written instructions on how to use it. If he looked around carefully enough for other signs of Morgan’s presence, he could see where the section of bloodstained carpet had been replaced, and that was only because there was the tiniest spot that had been missed.

The tiniest reminder was enough to send Hotch into a panic, but he knew there was no way he could tell Morgan about it.

Is this what you felt like, Elle? Unsafe in your own home, having to sweep each room for fear of another one of the monsters we hunt lurking in the shadows?

Slowly, numbly, Hotch worked his way through medical leave and physiotherapy, during which everyone in his team came over at least twice, Prentiss and Morgan the most often to help change his bandages. He knew they worried, but he couldn’t summon the will to care nor the words to thank them for keeping him company and preventing the darkness in his mind from taking over.

And maybe it was a good thing, because there were things they didn’t know, things that he lied to them about. He lied and he lied, and he knew that if he had the words, they would all come tumbling out, and what little of himself that he had left would be exposed for all to see.

Even if Morgan had tried to take everything he might be able to use, there was still his mind, and so if he had the words, they would all know how many times he envisioned holding cold metal against his head just as he had back in that alley.

On the thirty-fifth day after he was discharged from the hospital, when they were discussing Darren Call on the plane, they came close to finding out.

So why hasn’t he killed himself yet? Sprees usually end in suicide. If he's got nothing to live for, why hasn't he ended it?

It was much later, after a day of being on the receiving end of careful, worried glances, and overhearing Morgan’s firm declaration from inside his office that he realized his slip.

“I’m not going to stand by and watch this man kill himself,” Hotch had heard Morgan snap towards Rossi. Moments later, Morgan passed in front of his office window and made eye contact with him, making it clear that his choice of words was deliberate.

Suddenly Hotch was back in the alleyway with the gun pressed to his head and managed to talk himself off the ledge he didn’t know he was standing on while Rossi stood there, frozen and horrified that his brazen attempt at making a point had backfired so disastrously. His own words on the plane came back to him, then thought about what others would have seen when he walked into that house unarmed, and he understood.

He hadn’t been thinking at all when he went in to try and talk Darren Call down, but though he didn’t have a background in psychology, there were some things that didn’t need expert opinion to be said, and so he knew exactly his action could be classified as.

Don’t lie to yourself, you know exactly what that was.

Hotch swallowed convulsively and broke eye contact with Morgan, turning back to stare at paperwork until the other man walked back to his desk in the empty bullpen. As much as he tried, he couldn’t forget Morgan’s impassioned exclamation nor the depth of the worry that was present in his eyes when they made eye contact through the window.

Maybe that was the day when things shifted. It wasn’t a complete change—the team still hovered around Hotch in uncertain worry, his thoughts never completely disappeared, and he nearly broke down in the bathroom the day Jack turned four in witness protection after seeing what footage of his child on a playground Garcia could enhance.

There was, however, a different air to his and Morgan’s interactions after that case. Perhaps it was a long time coming, stemming from the painful understanding that was formed that day in the secluded bathroom when they found comfort in each other.

It wasn’t news that the higher-ups were watching him again, but then he walked back to his office after helping JJ triage consult requests to see Strauss fixing him with a stern stare. The next few days he spent trying to work through the frustration of recording and justifying every decision while trying and failing not to antagonize Morgan. And so while he waited for Morgan to come into his office, he could only hope that he hadn’t managed to destroy the strange friendship that had been built between them based on their shared knowledge of just how close he was to the ledge sometimes.

I should give him more credit, I don’t know how he puts up with me sometimes, and he has more than enough reason to report me to Strauss.

“Come on, Hotch, nobody's gonna replace you,” Morgan said, incredulous at the notion of Hotch getting replaced. “Fight Strauss. I'll go to the mat for you, so will everybody else. You know that.”

“Morgan, it won't work,” Hotch spoke over him, trying to get him to understand. “Decisions like this have their own momentum. Unless I step down—”

“Step down? What are you talking about?”

A foreign feeling Hotch recognized with some surprise as amusement wriggled its way into his consciousness as he anticipated Morgan’s reaction to his coming announcement, “I'm resigning as unit chief at the end of the week”

“What? No!” Hotch couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching as his feeling of amusement grew slightly stronger at the visceral reaction. “Hotch, look, yeah, ok, sometimes your actions, I may disagree with them, but it's not enough for you to leave this team.”

“I'm not leaving the team, I'm just no longer in charge,” Hotch corrected, continuing before Morgan could get in a word. “You are.”

He watched as Morgan’s jaw dropped in shock, before finally asking, “Me?” Detecting no deception from Hotch who had nodded, he continued. “Look, I had the chance to be unit chief in New York, and I said no. I turned it down because I like this team. Strauss can't just fire you like this.”

“She can reassign me, and we can avoid that if I promote internally.”

Unable to come up with a counterargument, Morgan was silent for a moment. “This is wrong,” he finally said.

A strange thrill went through Hotch at the confidence Morgan had in him—their relationship, while slightly different now, ultimately had been built on unstated respect and the ease with which both were able to call each other out on their bullshit; it wasn’t built on such blatant declarations of trust and confidence. Hotch opened his hands, shrugging helplessly. “It's the only way to keep the team together.”

Morgan nodded consideringly before carefully eyeing Hotch. “So all of this,” he gestured between them, bringing up the tension that had built up between them in the last case, “this is why you've been pushing me so hard, huh?”

“I haven't been pushing you that hard,” Hotch denied, only to get a disbelieving look from the other man. He let out a faint smile before regarding the other with a serious look again. “Morgan, I need to know right now. Will you do this?”

He couldn’t articulate the relief he felt when Morgan finally agreed and continued to feel for the rest of the night as he introduced Morgan to the other parts of the job. Just like every other positive emotion he had felt over the past few years, however, it was short-lived, as Hotch had freed up time to dedicate to the hunt, even as he often stayed later to help Morgan get adjusted. Within months, they were called into a family annihilator case and Hotch was confronting Karl Arnold, one of the few unsubs that had continued to haunt him even after the case was closed and they were killed or incarcerated.

Of course, Arnold had to get in the last word, and oh, did he get it in.

The cursed eye of providence, now drawn over a newspaper article about the attack months ago, never failed to create a surge of anger and fear within him, but never had it created such a storm of emotions before now. One torturous night of waiting as the envelope the taunts were sent in went through the lab, and the whole team was in the throes of the hunt, and in the process, fell victim to tunnel vision.

What if they had slowed down and remembered that Foyet worked with computers? Would they have managed to catch him at the apartment unawares? Would they have been better prepared for what Foyet had planned to do?

But there wasn’t anything Hotch could do except try and talk Foyet out of going through with his plans while trying to maintain as level of a head as possible.

“Your mother tried to protect you from your father, but she wasn’t strong enough, and you hated her for that, didn’t you? So, you decided that all women were weak,” Hotch suddenly brought up, hoping to catch him off guard as he vaguely wondered if the team was on the line, listening.

“Those are your words, not mine,” came the grating, annoyingly blasé reply.

“What were you, nine when you killed them?

“It was a car accident. And, now that I think about it, our childhoods are eerily similar, don’t you think?”

Caught unawares, Hotch jerked the steering wheel, barely managing to avoid crashing the car as Foyet continued. “But it was only your father who died, whereas your mother remarried.”

How—? He turned cold at the show of Foyet’s obsession, which was clearly much deeper than he or anyone in the team could have predicted.

“No response?” the killer taunted.

“My father swallowed a bullet because he couldn’t live with his self loathing or the cancer,” Hotch finally snapped, quickly directing the subject back towards Foyet. Even with the pit in his stomach growing as it became clearer that he was being toyed with, he couldn’t help but use every negotiation tactic he knew and taught at the Academy, desperately but futilely trying to dissuade the killer.

“Haven't you gotten what you wanted?” Hotch tried, somehow having regained his composure after the unpleasant bombshell. “You've set yourself apart from anybody we've ever dealt with. You're not just a famous serial killer, you're the Reaper. We're going to study you and your methods for years and years.”

“You know what I've been thinking?” Foyet finally asked after a few moments of silence, his next words sending his heart pounding in fear. “Haley looks really good with dark hair. She’s lost some weight. Must be all the stress you caused her. Where's the little man?” No, don’t you dare— “Oh. There he is. Does he like Captain America because of you?”

Hotch gripped his phone tightly as he heard the ringing of another phone. “That's your wife. Hold, please—Mrs. Hotchner,” Foyet took on an accent, tone turning jovial. “Open the gate and I'll drive in.”

Open the gate? That son of a—of course.

“Aaron?” the malicious glee was back, cutting right to Hotch’s core. “I really gotta go.”

Almost frozen with fear, he pushed the car faster, heading straight towards the old house and praying to whatever deity he could think of that he could get there in time. He wasn’t sure how long had passed when he got Morgan’s call, which was confirmation that the team had indeed been listening. He didn’t dwell on it and only continued to push the car, disregarding speed limits and almost hysterically glad that it was the middle of the day and the streets were relatively empty.

When his phone rang, it was with numb, mechanical movements that he answered, fully prepared to beg and bargain for his family’s life if he had to, only to sharply inhale at Haley’s dearly missed voice, which turned shaky with fear when she realized the danger she was in. As Foyet undercut their exchange with his maliciously satisfied taunts, telling Haley all that he could never bring himself to confess about the case, Hotch could only think about how he was just too far away, Haley, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for lying to you about everything, I’ll never forgive myself—

But then Jack was on the phone, and the pure innocence and eagerness with which his son greeted him after months of no contact was enough to send a fresh wave of tears coursing down his face.

“Is George a bad guy?”

“Yes, he is,” Hotch answered, wanting to scream at him to just run away, get as far away from him as you can when an old memory was suddenly brought forth from his subconscious. “Jack, I need you on this case with me. Do you understand?” he tried to keep his voice steady, hoping with his whole being that his son would remember. “I need you to work the case with me.”

“Ok, Daddy.”

“Jack, hug your mom for me,” he requested, voice cracking and desperately trying to contain the sobs that were steadily building. He could only imagine the warmth his son was feeling from his mother now, potentially the last memory he would ever have of her. Hearing his son’s too-inquisitive question about his mother’s mood left him viciously biting down on his bottom lip, trying to maintain some modicum of control over himself.

“Is he gone?” Hotch finally asked, nausea joining the storm of emotions within him at the nickname Foyet had given his son.

“Yes,” Haley confirmed, letting her fear shine through now that Jack wasn’t there to see it.

Each shaking breath was a stab straight to his core.“You’re so strong, Haley, you’re stronger than I ever was.”

Her response nearly sent him shattering into the pieces she had so carefully helped him put back together back in high school after his stepfather died.

“You’ll hurry, right?”

I can’t lie, I’m so sorry, Haley. I can’t lie to you. Not after everything I’ve already done, “I know you didn’t sign on for this.”

“Neither did you.”

Why does it have to be now that we finally talk about what caused the divorce?

“I’m sorry for everything.”

There was a short pause as Haley inhaled sharply, before leveling out into shaky breaths. “Promise me that you will tell him how we met and how you used to make me laugh.”

No, please— “Haley,” Hotch trailed off, unable to continue and almost paralyzed at the knowledge that these might be her last words because he’s too far away, I’m not going to—

“He needs to know that you weren't always so serious, Aaron. He needs to believe in love, because it is the most important thing, but you need to show him. Promise me,” she ordered him forcefully.

“I promise.”

The sound of three gunshots tore straight into his soul.

And then he was finding Haley’s body, trying not to let the seams break when renewed rage roared to life within him at the extinguishing of the light that had been inside her and lit up every room she walked in. Minutes later, he was straddling the demon that had haunted him for over a decade, the demon that he finally caught up to but at a terrible cost and then he was punching—

I’m going to kill that bastard son of yours and I’m going to tell him it was all your fault—

and punching—

You practically killed them yourself—

and punching—

You should have made the deal—

someone yelled his name—

Promise me.

“—dead. He’s dead,” someone was shouting as Hotch tried to lunge forward away from the person pulling him back and towards the man who killed my wife HE KILLED HALEY—

But all the fight that had been inside him suddenly disappeared, and he was left staggering backward, mouth open in a silent, rage-filled scream as someone—it’s Derek—kept a careful grip on his body, holding his shattered pieces together just long enough for him to gather his tattered seams close to his chest and fling himself away towards the stairs.

Hotch collapsed to his knees in front of the chest, seeing no indication of any taunting messages and daring to hope that his son was—

And the sight of his son, unharmed and blinking at the sudden change in brightness, nearly sent him into a mess of relieved tears that were also tears of unadulterated grief because I got his mother killed—

He held himself together and lifted his son out of the chest, seeing all the features he got from Haley—her his hair, her his eyes, her his inquisitiveness—and struggling to maintain his weakening control as he told Jack to go to Ms. Jareau, who was waiting with open arms in the doorway to the room that had once been his office.

Hearing their footsteps fade away and shaking with suppressed sobs, he slowly stood up, injuries that he sustained in the fight finally making themselves known as he made his way across the hall to the room he knew Haley was lying in—

He saw Morgan taking her pulse and for a moment he couldn’t help but hope that she was still—

But Morgan was pulling back and he was gently placing Haley’s right arm back on the ground and he wasn’t yelling for medics and—

“I’m so sorry, Aaron,” Morgan said softly as Hotch knelt down, his trembling becoming more palpable by the moment.

If he looked past the unseeing eyes and the blood that pooled everywhere and her lying on the floor and—

He could almost convince himself that she was sleeping. For a moment, he was almost afraid to touch her, afraid to disturb her in her sleep, but in the next moment—

He was pulling her cooling body close to his chest and burying his face into the crook of her neck, gut wrenching sobs escaping his lips as a wave of grief shattered the flimsy show of control he had put up for Jack’s sake, his son who just lost his mother because his father was addicted to the chase and I broke my promise, Haley, I’m so sorry—

She’s gone.

The solemn silence weighed heavily on the team as they waited for Hotch to finish testifying before Strauss and the brass. They had all expressed their outrage when they got the orders to come in for their statements, only two days after their leader nearly lost everything, but there was nothing they could do.

It had been painful to watch the man who had been a protector for so long, since childhood through his teenage years and into adulthood, try to maintain the post, disregarding his own health in favor of being the earliest in the office and last to leave, spending every free moment trying to get rid of the threat to his family. It was worse having to listen over the phone as his control started to slip while he tried so desperately to save his family from a madman.

With the sight of him savagely beating Foyet’s dead body into the ground, all vestiges of the infamous controlled facade gone, they all hoped for Hotch’s sake that Jack had found safety and were beyond relieved to see him in JJ’s arms. Reality caught up to them, however, when they watched as Morgan had to physically wrestle Hotch away from Haley’s body so she could be transported to the ME’s office.

When they got the full autopsy, they could only be glad that Hotch wasn’t there to find out all that Foyet did to his first love.

And within a year, Hotch’s family had been ruthlessly snatched from his desperate, flailing grip and torn into broken pieces before being shoved back at him, misshapen with pieces missing.

The faint sound of a door swinging closed had them all straightening up in their seats, turning to look into the bullpen where Hotch was walking up the stairs in front of his office, only to freeze right in front of the door with his hand just in front of the door knob.

They watched worriedly as he let his outstretched hand fall back to his side and slowly backed up from the door, almost as if he were in a trance and startled when Morgan suddenly jumped up and ran out of the room and through the bullpen towards the man.

Their confusion cleared up when they realized that Hotch wasn’t stopping as he backed up, somehow unaware that the stairs were right behind him and stumbled, only barely catching himself on the railing. For Jack’s sake, they forced themselves to stay seated but watched out of the corner of their eyes as he tried to stand back up, only for his knees to buckle underneath him.

Before he could hit the ground, Morgan quickly grabbed onto his arms, almost collapsing himself under his dead weight but managing to lower them both onto the ground, holding onto him in a way eerily reminiscent of what he had done when he pulled Hotch off of the barely-recognizable body of George Foyet.

Hotch was still staring at his office door as if he had seen a ghost, and it was with heartbreak that Morgan realized what it represented to him—it was the source of so much passion and temptation that had gotten the love of his life killed. Looking back at the conference room and seeing the eyes focused on the two men, Morgan carefully pulled Hotch up from the ground and slowly guided him out of the bullpen, knowing that the team had Jack taken care of.

They walked through the winding hallways and into the bathroom that he followed Hotch into the night it all started to go horribly wrong. This time, it was different and yet the exact same, and after Morgan locked the door behind them, he pulled Hotch towards him, mindful of his bruised ribs.

Surrounded by the four walls that heard so many of their small talks and witnessed their vulnerabilities, it wasn’t long before Hotch’s eyes began to burn as he finally melted into Morgan’s protective hold when the dam finally broke, letting out a wave of pain and anguish that was only made the slightest bit more bearable by the warmth of Morgan’s his friend’s care.

But even that couldn’t make that one sentence disappear.

You practically killed them yourself.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hurting Hotch is so fun #aaron hotchner whump #hurt aaron hotchner #mortch #george foyet #haley hotchner #tw guns #tw suicidal ideation #tw suicide #tw character death #sodone one sentence

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trillgutterbug · 3 years

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Fic Writer Questions!

tagged by @palamedessextus 😊 thanks friend!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

64! only five more to the magic number ayyyyy and then i’m legally obligated to never post another one.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

289,575 apparently??? which seems way way way higher than i ever would have guessed, wow. who knew!

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

31 on ao3, although that’s lumping, eg, all marvel subfandoms together. but i have a ridiculous amount of wips in all kinds of other fandoms that i haven’t/won’t post, soooo.... more than that! and i don’t want to list them all bc that’d be a long boring read!

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

it serenely disdains to destroy us, a magnus archives fic that, i somewhat vainly note, has been orbiting in the top few top kudosed fics in the tag since i posted it womp womp.

concerning flight, because we all thirsty for thor/loki+gender and i for one support us.

untitled porny snippet (yes that’s actually what it’s called), because same as above. (i see u, kudos-to-comment ratio and i aint mad but.... i see u. all you dirty birds out there shamefully yet silently jerking it. kudos to YOU.)

an experiment in posthumous subsistence, a batman/joker zombie au i wrote fucking TEN YEARS AGO ALMOST. why???? why is this fic so popular?? i’m barely a good writer now and i sure as shit wasn’t one a decade ago! the terrible title alone should disqualify it from being read, but i guess the people want what they want. and what they want is batman and joker handcuffed together, trying to escape the zombie apocalypse ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

all good things, some stucky hydra trash party-adjacent smut regarding piercings. i stand by this one 100%, it deserves every kudo(s?) tbh.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

i do, depending on the comment! i don’t think comments like “loved this!” / “thanks for writing!” are written with the intent to receive a response (or at least, when i write them on other people’s fics, i certainly don’t expect one). they’re like an extra kudo(s?), and i appreciate them a lot, but they’re not really an invitation to Discuss. whereas if someone clearly has put a lot of thought into a comment, or asked a question, or made some observations that i jive with, or just seems like they want to engage, then hell yeah i jump in there. love that shit.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

i guess arguably thine own self, which is some hydra husbands abo. laugh all you want, it’s one of my fave of all my fics lmao. probably specifically bc of the unpleasant/open ending.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

probably moderation is a memory! since it, unlike 99% of all my other stuff, isn’t just total smut, and the whole point of writing it was to wallow as deep as possible in the sauce of giddy teenage infatuation, it got the opportunity to have an actual emotional arc (more or less). furthermore i could not possibly bring myself to break johnny lawrence’s tender little heart ever, that would hurt me far more than it would hurt him.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

i only realised while answering this question that apparently.... no i don’t write crossovers! which is not at all a deliberate choice, i guess a compelling enough one just hasn’t occurred to me yet!

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

shockingly no! by some accidental miracle i’ve managed to fly under the radar so far, despite some of the really buckwild stuff i’ve posted. however, considering some of the stuff i’m probably ABOUT to post.... that clean track record might soon come to an end lmao.

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

lmao. uhhhh. almost exclusively, and i guess??? all kinds? this is clearly a question composed by someone who does not write smut.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of, and i wouldn’t really care if i did.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah i think a few....? a number of people have asked anyway and i always say yes, so probably there’s at least one floating around out there somewhere.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have! just once, and we really made it count. it’s called a reptile dysfunction, which should tell you all you need to know.

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

thorki, probably. i always have and always will come back to it, no matter what. it’s got such a ferociously timeless staying power and so much potential variation, i don’t think i could ever get bored of it, regardless of what level of marvel-exhaustion i might feel at a given time, or what tropes, kinks, or stage of literary pretension i’m at. truly the oh tee pee.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

ohhhhh all 836575927 of them, but. there’s this one thorki fic i started almost ten years ago as an experiment with a new-to-me style, which turned out over the intervening years to become my main style, and looking back on that fic, which for many years was a touchstone of writing-to-aspire to for me, it’s actually Not Very Good lol. but i still love the core concept, which is a canon divergence berserker thor au, but not only is it a somewhat inaccessible (admittedly less so since the deadpool movies came out, which was a hilarious pipe dream back when i started writing it) x-force comics crossover, but i wrote myself into a bunch of corners and have yet to dig up the energy to write myself back out of them! i go and reread it every year or so and think “hmm... maybe now...” but tbh it’s just not really good enough to bother! perhaps someday i’ll repurpose the best elements of it into something new.

16) What are your writing strengths?

man, it’s so hard to say. in much the same way that you can spend hours every day staring at yourself in a mirror, yet be utterly incapable of picking yourself out of a lineup, i spend a lot of time eyeballing my writing, but stepping back it seems like a chaotic mass of nonsense with few cohesive throughlines. i’m good at writing smut, i know that much! and in that vein, i think i am good at smut bc i am very good at committing to the bit, as it were. getting into the nitty gritty of experience and sensation (physical or emotional) and rendering largely abstract internal concepts in fairly comprehensible ways. i think my prose is quite decent on a sentence level too.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

utterly incapable of finishing anything! or plotting anything! can’t mange a cohesive emotional arc! write myself into overly structured corners or out onto a vast plain with no structure in sight! all the macro elements of storytelling totally elude me, which is very frustrating when i have all this tasty fleshed out micro-level character stuff, but no narrative skeleton upon which to drape it.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? don’t! unless you are very sure you know what you’re doing, and the other language bits are a) very few, b) easily contextually understood, and c) actually adding something other than a weird flex that you know google translate exists.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

11yo me wrote spock/kirk/janice rand and thought she invented the concept of a threesome. brand been stronk since day one 🤘. (the vulcan salute is right next to the devil horns in my emoji list, so....)

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

i love the (ongoing) better with you series very much, not least because i’m still absolutely flabbergasted that i wrote something that long. i think it’s actually pretty good all things considered and it’s very dear to me on many many levels. but the fic that i just viscerally adore, that i love the style of, and that i had such a transcendent, invigorating, organic Experience writing, is temper its strength, adding honey until quite cold, which is a terror fic with the inexplicable pairing of edward little/hartnell, featuring crossdressing and gender stuff. it just burst out of me fully formed one day and i don’t think i’ve managed to top it yet!

lowkey tagging @lingua-mortua @pitcherplant @kaasknot @froggy-babyy @deputychairman @nomercyonlytears @clockheartedcrocodile

#writing meme #whoops it's 3:30am #excellent life choices courtesy of: yours truly

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breadbrioche · 4 years

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➵Terushima Yuuji x GN!Reader

➵Word count: 1.3k

➵A/N: first post!!! and its of this degenerate lmao I wrote this a long time ago at like 3am and I never thought it was good enough to post but here we are lol

Well, today is gonna be an absolute shit show you thought to yourself as you trudged through the gates of your school.

It was only the start of the day yet, for some reason, so many things had already gone wrong for you. First off, you must have missed the several alarms you purposely set (you swore you could never get up without at least two loud, annoying alarms) because when you checked the time upon awakening, it was way past the time you’d typically wake up. Then immediately after stumbling haphazardly out of your bed, you’d mistook your cleanser for your toothpaste and then proceeded to brush your teeth where you only realised this predicament after a few seconds of vigorously brushing.

Despite re-brushing your teeth, there was still an underlying taste of the soapy facial product and your face scrunched up disgustedly every time you were able to taste it.

Once you arrived at your homeroom, you sighed as you blissfully plopped your head down onto your desk in the hopes of getting a few more minutes of sleep. But, of course, today was not your day because as you were finally drifting off, the loud trill of your phone forcibly ripped you out of your peace. Eyes snapping open, you fished it out and squinted at the caller ID. It was your friend.

“This better be worth my time or she’s gonna get it-“ you whispered underneath your breath before answering it, shoving the speaker to your ear.

“What is it.” You demanded gruffly.

“Oh? Bad day already? Well that’s a new record!”

Your friend teased through the phone but you just huffed in annoyance. “What is it.” You ‘asked’ again in a sharper tone. Your friend whistled slowly, recognising that she should stop pushing your buttons.

“Could you fetch my notebook from the locker room?” She asked sweetly.

“Why would I-“

“Because you love me and I’m an amazing friend?”

The silence afterward signalled her the opposite.

“Fine! I get it you woke up on the wrong side of bed and yada yada. But can you get it for me just this once? I need it for the first period and your classroom is closer!”

You stayed quiet, still debating whether to help her or not.

“I’ll buy you cake the next time we go to that café I know you like!” She bargained, sounding really desperate at this point. You begrudgingly sighed and hopped out of your seat. Looking up to the clock on the wall, you assessed the amount of time you still had left before the bell rang.

You had maybe twenty minutes left on the clock. The trip to the locker room and to her classroom would usually wouldn’t give you enough time for you to head to your classroom safely but you calculated that if you jogged you probably could.

“Fine I’ll do it.” You could hear a cheer of victory on the other side of the line to which you rolled your eyes at. “But stay on the call; I’ll need you to tell me which locker it’s in.”

You briskly jogged to the locker room and notified her when you made it there.

——————

You rummaged through the lockers in a rushed manner, the time quickly passing by.

The locker opposite the mirror, she said. This has to be the one. You even went up to the mirror and walked in a straight line to see if this was truly the one her notebook was in. It had to be because you checked the ones around it too but it wasn’t in there! This was the only one it had to be in.

You hurriedly searched through the contents of the narrow closet space and a mixture of frustration and confusion slowly building up inside you. God damn, you knew your friend was a messy girl but you sure as hell don’t remember her having all this junk.

What was the point in keeping a mirror in here when she was literally opposite one? And what would she need a belt for? She wore a skirt. Men’s cologne? For all the years you’d known her, she’d never worn this scent ever! It had a strong smell of cedarwood that would be way too pungent for her.

Thoughts piled on top of the over as you continued to bury through all this junk only a guy would ever own. Then you paused in your tracks.

Your friend was female. And all the belongings in here seemed like stuff a guy would typically have- and now that you think about it, so were all the stuff in the lockers you looked through!

Did that mean that you weren’t in the-

Suddenly, it was hard to see the items in the locker as a dark shadow casted over it, seemingly coming from behind you.

Fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfu-

“Oh? What do we have here?” A deep, definitely not feminine, voice called out curiously in a teasing tone as the scent of cedarwood and men’s deodorant wafted in the air around you.

Your eyes widened as you whipped your head around at the voice to see who’d caught you red handed.

It was indeed a boy.

A familiar boy. You would be considered crazy if you didn’t know of his reputation.

With his face inches from yours, Terushima Yuuji in the flesh dared to stand there with that fucking shit eating grin on his face. His hair was in disarray, presumably from his morning practice. Even a stray bead of sweat trailed from his forehead, further supporting your assumption.

You couldn’t deny he was handsome, you’d be lying to yourself if you did.

“What’s a cutie like you doing in the boy’s locker room? Are you some kind of pervert~?” He teased, jokingly covering his chest which you came to notice was indeed lacking a shirt. That wasn’t something someone would see everyday.

The dude was fit; no six pack but definitely toned enough that you could see how years of sport impacted his body. And while you would probably be inclined to admire it if you weren’t in such a time crunch.

“I’m in the boy’s locker room?” You questioned seriously. Terushima just blinked. You… weren’t here on purpose? He owlishly nodded. You groaned and looked at the clock on your phone; you didn’t have much time left. You ran a hand through your hair angrily.

“I wasted all this time trying to look for this fucking notebook and I’m not even in the right place?” You seethed out loud, confusing the taller boy even more.

“What are you-“

“Look. I don’t have time for this pretty boy. So can you please just move out of the way?” You cut him off before pushing him to one side and storming out of the room.

You quickly burst into the correct locker room and quickly went to the correct locker. Slamming the door open revealed the wretched notebook, you’d been looking for all this time. Exhaling deeply, you grabbed it and exited just as quickly as you entered.

You ran with flushed cheeks angrily to your friend’s classroom. The recent sequence of events ran through your brain like lightning while you stormed through the hallways. Your nails dug into your palms as you recounted the events.

You knew that touching the infamous Terushima Yuuji while he was shirtless would probably cause you some embarrassment in the near future but currently, you couldn’t care less. You’re main concern was whether your friend would uphold her promise.

She had better.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #terushima yuuji #terushima yuuji x reader #terushima x reader #terushima x y/n #reader insert #x reader #fanfic #own works

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spnshameblog · 3 years

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you know i gotta say its very fun spinning all these conspiracy theories about lines that were cut, about rewrites, about last minute edits etc, but its literally just that to me. a little fun to distract me from the fact that i am allowed to be angry.

this show is incredibly good at gaslighting. it has been for years. they wrote, shot and edited all these moments and scenes KNOWING how fans would interpret them and still acted like they were crazy for connecting the dots.

and now that they gave us “what we wanted” in the worst way possible, we are made to feel like we’re entitled or greedy for expecting better. we quite literally were told “you got what you wanted”, when that is not remotely true. how the fuck is a tragic love confession in the 3rd to last episode, after which the confessor dies and the confession is never mentioned again “what we wanted”? how am i crazy for watching this incredibly emotional scene and expecting literally any sort of follow-up? how am i entitled for expecting them to have the story progress in a logical way? am i supposed to believe that this is normal? am i supposed to believe that you dont need a resolution to this big of a set-up? how the fuck am i delusional for thinking it makes no sense to not follow up on a love confession and the death of a major character?

i have no idea who makes these decisions. i have no idea who ultimately decided how this was going to play out. but someone sat down and decided they were going to give us a onesided confession that was never going to get mentioned again. and, as i said, we can put our heads together and speculate about the secret good finale that never was, but here is the thing: i firmly believe that finale never existed.

i’m convinced this was all planned out from the start and the confession was literal bait to get as many people as possible to watch the finale. they knew there was a huge amount of “former fans” still listening with one ear and they knew they’d get us with this and it worked lmao! their plan literally succeeded. we made it trend immediately and have not calmed down since! gay people are the best kind of pr machine lol!

so they kill castiel, knowing full well that nobody believes he is actually dead when supernatural has a history of bringing ppl back from the dead and just to keep everyone hooked they have fucking lucifer imitate castiel on the phone and we get dean demanding he be brought back. just to keep people thinking that something else HAS to be coming, bc why else bring it up right?? If we were supposed to just accept that casteil was nt going to appear again, why not.... end the conversation instead of LITERALLY DANGLING THE OPTION OF BRINGING HIM BACK IN FRONT OF OUR FACES.

and now that the biggest amount of viewers possible has been conned into watching the finale they can really just do whatever. i mean the show is over anyways, why the fuck should they continue pandering to the gays lol, its not like they need us to keep the show alive anymore. and maybe if the make the finale as bro-ey and devoid of romance as possible they can get the “normal” fans to follow jared into his new show, idk.

they literally went right back to gaslighting after 15x19. the stupid pre-finale thing was mainly to establish the fact that the show is and always has been about the brothers and their car. they rushed through a few of the other characters, but carefully didnt give castiel any special treatment, he was just a random minor character after all lol oh and they didnt even mention eileen hhhhh. all to have something to fall back on in case anyone really expected them to do something more with the ~thing~ they set up in 15x18. its really your own fault for expecting more, after all the show was only ever about the two brothers, look, you can see it quite clearly in the special pre-finale episode we made. we tried as hard as possible to fit the word “brother” in there as many times as possible, just to drive it home.

in short: no, i dont believe tptb EVER intended to give us a satisfying ending to the destiel set up and think the confession was the definition of queerbait. dont let them manipulate you into believing you are asking for too much when you expect the trail of crumbs lying in front of you to lead somewhere.

for the record: i dont know whom to blame for this mess, the only people i’m not side-eying are the actors and writers of 15x18. I thought the scene was beautifully written and acted and i know they edited out a lot of dean’s reactions to tone his side of the scene down. I dont blame misha, jensen and bobo and i think it was meaningful for each one of them, but i also kind of hate them for making me care about a show that has no respect for me.

(also this post is specifically about the destiel stuff, i didnt even touch on eileen, blurry wife, the fact that deanshould have retired and should not have died a hunter and the other instance of bury your gays in the last three episodes. oh and the fact that the finale was bad just from a neutral storytelling viewpoint. like wtf, we start off way too light hearted, we spend way too much time on them doing their daily routines and then the pie festival wtf?? the idiotic choice of having rando vampires as your final monsters that end up killing one of the main characters who literally defeated god last ep? john is in dean’s heaven?? cas is alive and just chose not to contact dean?? and then we have to watch a speedrun of sam’s life and death like??? this episode was just objectively bad.)

#supernatural #sorry i had to get that out at one point #spn #destiel #anti spn finale #m

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tomoonine · 4 years

Text

noted | oneus soulmate au

[lee keonhee] — as a stationery hoarder, you were bound to have mistaken your soulmate link stationery for your favorite ones at some point in your life. and boy did it give keonhee the biggest scare of his life.

soulmate au wherein you have this limited stack of sticky notes. write whatever you want on it, and that note would magically appear somewhere in your soulmate’s line of sight during that day.

Pairing: keonhee / reader (gender-neutral) Genre: soulmate au, non-idol au, musician au, fluff, humor Word Count: 1945 words

note: this marks the end of the soulmate series! i’ve been reading feedback from people, and i greatly appreciate the love these stories are getting, thank you from the bottom of my heart ♥

“Ah, crap.” You mutter to yourself as you stare at your study desk.

Crap is right, it appears you��ve finally understood what caused your misfortune in school earlier

You were certain that you wrote a note two days ago to buy some of your groceries and to accomplish your homework in advance

And well, you did put it on your desk

It’s just that

It didn’t stay on your table

It ended up on Keonhee’s refrigerator

Well you don’t know yet that it’s at Keonhee’s home now

Because you’re still convinced that you simply misplaced your sticky note reminder

Which still pisses you off because losing it was the reason why you weren’t able to prepare your lunch for today

And why your homework started to accumulate and pile up

In hindsight, high schooler you never bothered exploring your soulmate link

You were busy with other things

School work, extra curriculars

Extra curriculars which, in your case, involves learning how to play your instrument of choice

And other matters like purchasing every cute sticky note pad you find

lmao who can resist a sticky note pad in the shape of a corgi’s butt tbh

Understanding your soulmate link only became a matter of importance to you now that you’re experiencing an anomaly in your routine

It sounds sad, but deep down you know that there isn’t a point in rushing to meet your soulmate if you’re bound to spend the rest of your life with them anyway

So that brings us back to your current situation

Crap is right, you just sent your grocery list and homework reminder to your soulmate

The first interaction you’ve ever had with them

Happened in high school, without even a warm greeting written on it

And instead, a note that terrified Keonhee into believing he was the one with homework that he forgot to do

It’s a bit anticlimactic, especially for the ever-romantic Lee Keonhee

But Keonhee boy here will take whatever he can get, even if it was an accidental sticky note

So he forgives you uwu

Even though you made him drop his last glass of milk when it suddenly appeared in front of his fridge

He can buy another carton of milk lol

But the odd thing is, it’s still weird that you still forgot about your grocery list and homework

Keonhee made sure to write a note to you back with your list and homework, along with a little message from him

It should appear on your line of sight, in fact you should have seen it two days ago

You’re still puzzled, desperately looking for that sticky note you remembered putting on your desk

Until you hear your sibling call for you, saying that they found your sticky note

“Yo, (Y/N)! Your note is on the fridge!” Is their reply, followed by the door of the refrigerator closing.

Huh? On the fridge?

Weird

And true to their word, it was on your family refrigerator, just beside a commemorative picture magnet of you and your family

Your note with your grocery list and homework is there

Except it wasn’t in your handwriting

You tear the note off the surface and analyze it, and you’re surprised to see something else written on it

Hi soulmate! I think you accidentally wrote your list on our soulmate link, so I wrote it down for you again! I may have dropped my glass of milk in shock bc of u, but its ok. Take care! - LKH

Oop

It’s your soulmate :0

Now you’re embarrassed that this had to happen

Despite the scenario

You find it funny, because he wrote it on the corner of the pad and he tried to cram in the last few words of his letter by not only writing the words in short-cut

but also by curving his writing upward to fit the remaining words in

Although

You’re hesitating on writing back to this “LKH” person because you know your soulmate link has limited sticky notes to work with

So you opt to not reply anymore, and you go back to your usual business

Until it happens again :]

Like before, you didn’t mean to write it on your soulmate link

You were supposed to write on a sticky note the pieces you have to practice and a reminder to finalize your repertoire for the next culminating concert you’ll participate in

It just so happened your favorite notepads specifically for that purpose

Was just beside your soulmate link ones

Thirty minutes after practice, when you arrive home, you’re surprised that instead of your reminder

It’s another note from “LKH”

Looks like it ended up with your soulmate again

And it definitely did, it ended up on Keonhee’s music score for Pie Jesu from Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Requiem

While he was practicing

And it made him belt out a vibrato-powered scream, along with a well-executed comedic fall onto his ass

what is new tbh

Anyway, so the note right?

You pick it up again and scan through it

He kind-heartedly rewrote the reminder for you, and yet again another message from him; this time written more legibly

Hi soulmate! I didn’t know you played an instrument, I’m actually taking voice lessons! I was singing for my repertoire until your note arrived and scared me to death ㅠㅠ Good luck with Salut d’Amour and your repertoire! -LKH

MAN at this rate you might end up running out of sticky notes because of accidental usage,,,,,

But you think it’s sweet of your soulmate to wish you luck :((

AND you guys are both classical musicians :((

Boo hoo your heart is soft :((

Moved by your Soft Heart, you test out if you can actually maximize your soulmate link by cutting up your sticky notes so that you can finally reply to LKH without worrying that your notes will run out fast

And it works !

You thank Keonhee for wishing you luck, expressing the nervousness and excitement you have in anticipation.

You make it a point to apologize for not replying to everything he sends also, and for sending stuff by accident

Keonhee follows suit and cuts them in half too and replies to you almost immediately

After a few sticky notes shared, both of you finally settled with sharing your social media accounts so that you can get to know each other better

Because lmao there aren’t any conditions to this soulmate link so why not right?

Since that moment in high school, Keonhee and you have become close online friends

You’ve spent so much time online getting to know him and it was going great

But you aren’t sure that you love him romantically yet

You haven’t even met him face to face

And no amount of classical music recommendations and practice video recordings could help you assess your own feelings towards him

Keonhee may be sweet and romantic, but it doesn’t feel right yet ya feel?

It kinda sucks because you can’t meet up since you live cities away from each other

And the colleges you were planning on going, despite being both Conservatories of Music, were still far away from each other

Keonhee doesn’t express his longing to meet you and give you affection, knowing that it might ruin the established friendship you both built together

So when college rolls around, your friendship remains the same, except now you have more to share thanks to your experiences in your respective majors

You’re a bit more wary with the sticky notes you use in fear of accidentally sending it back to Keonhee and to prevent him from finding out the ridiculous PE subject you accidentally enrolled in

And you’re extra careful when it comes to conversing with your soulmate, knowing that he must be busy

It sort of reduces the interaction, to the point that the only time you guys get to talk is when TwoSet Violin posts a new video or if there’s a funny classical music meme you can tag each other in

Though deep down, you don’t want to lead him on and play with his feelings

Since high school, you were very focused on your school work and your extra curriculars

It wasn’t even in your plan to think about your soulmate; thinking it was going to come along naturally, not accidentally

But as time passes, you’re starting to miss Keonhee :(

It’s already the second semester in your first year of college and the last messages you sent each other were “Happy New Year”s and “Good luck” messages for the next semester

And your finals performance is already being discussed by your professors; the schedule, the venue, the attire, the repertoire, literally everything

With more details being divulged and discussed, your longing for your old friend is starting to rekindle into something a bit bigger

Similarly to your routine, you reach out for a sticky note in your envelope to jot down the next reminders

Except

This time, you’re reaching out for your soulmate link sticky notes on purpose

As the professor speaks, you’re writing the finalized details neatly, finishing off the message with a personal note from you.

XX University’s Conservatory of Music Annual Culmination Concert May 30, 20XX at the University Concert Hall 6:30 pm onwards Guests to wear semi-formal and reserve tickets via faculty or students enrolled in the university. Hey Keonhee, I’d like to invite you to my culmination concert. Do you think you can make it? - (Y/N)

You remember to take a picture of it on your phone so you don’t forget the reminders

When the class ends you stick the note on your notebook, knowing it will appear in Keonhee’s line of vision later

However, the longer you wait, the more stupid you feel for doing that on purpose

Keonhee is busy, you remind yourself, why would you invite him to your culmination concert when he probably has his own to worry about?

The stupid feeling is morphing into a fearful one, now you’re scared that this could potentially make things more awkward and quiet than they already are

You sulk for the rest of the day, and you dread to see Keonhee’s reply

Except when it does arrive

It’s carefully placed on the spot of your work desk where you always leave your reminders

Keonhee must have thought it was another accidental send, because he rewrote the details of your culmination concert

You feel disappointed now

He could have at least said yes or no to your invitation, instead of ignoring it ://

You pick up the sticky note, but you’re shocked to see something written on the back

You flip it and read the note

I’ll be there :) Are you a fan of flowers? I’ll be ready with a bouquet of your favorite flowers Maestro (Y/N) ♡

It’s the first time you’ve become flustered over your soulmate, and honestly? You’re relishing in the feeling that comes after the initial embarrassment

You send him the name of your favorite flowers via online messaging, along with a thank you for accepting the invitation and an expression of your excitement to finally meet him

He replies promptly: Noted, soulmate! See you soon and good luck with your repertoire 😘♥♥♥

No amount of music memes and short greetings could help you assess your own feelings towards him

But now that you’re anticipating for the performance date and your first meeting with Keonhee

You can at least conclude that you may have a tiny bit of affection for your soulmate

It feels as if angels are singing symphonies to the tempo of your heart

And it’s music to your ears

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monkberries · 3 years

Note

Wait what's wrong with the AKOM How Do You Sleep episode? I remember it being fine but its been ages since i listened to it so if you've got any thoughts I'd love to hear them :)

Be aware, this is only about the first episode, not about the George-focused episode. If they resolve any of the issues I have with the first episode in the second episode, then I sincerely apologize.

First, there are some things they talk about that I agree with! Near the end of the episode, they discuss the dynamic between John and the people around him in a really insightful way, and in a way I’ve often thought about it; both John and the people around him were all kind of in this mindset of “oh, Paul rejected us? Well, we didn’t want him ANYWAY! So THERE!” They also discuss the fact that John was very easily manipulated, and nearly his entire support system (minus Ringo, and shame on them for not mentioning that) basically egged his anger and viciousness on. And they also play/read some interviews with John about the song and tangential subjects, and it’s always nice to hear primary sources.

However, much like their post about Lewisohn, I find a lot of this episode excessive, overtorqued, and generally far too exaggerated. They perceive an imbalance in narratives (which I do think is there, just not to the extent they say) and overcorrect, imho.

First, I want to get my opinion on the song itself out of the way: I listen to it a lot. It’s on my Fall 2020 playlist. I enjoy the musicality, the style; the mood it evokes is extremely strong to me. Sometimes it’s fun to indulge in feeling evil or mean without having to actually be evil or mean! Plus, I love playing it right before Jealous Guy, or Steel and Glass, or I Know (I Know), just to get that maximum John Lennon Mood Whiplash effect. I think George’s solo is vicious and perfect for the mood as well. However, the lyrics are pretty horrendous in terms of their effect on Paul and his feelings; they’re also horrendous in that they’re just not well-written lyrics. IMHO you can tell it was written by three different people all throwing insults at the wall to see what would stick and rhyme. Half of the digs don’t even make sense. “So Sgt. Pepper took you by surprise/You better see right through that mother’s eyes” Wut? “The one mistake you made was in your head” ??? The hell do these things even mean lmao

Anyway. Onto the episode itself.

Around 1 minute in, they say that there’s not a lot of check and balance in the Beatles fandom w/r/t this song, and that much of the fandom espouses that HDYS was “deserved” and “honest”. They reiterate this sentiment over in different ways throughout the episode, and I just do not see that kind of thing being a majority opinion in Beatles fandom spaces at all. Perhaps they are occupying different fandom spaces than I occupy (tumblr/Hey Dullblog/beatlebioreview), and it is true where they are? (In which case, my goodness, find some better blogs to follow, babes!) They talk about how they’ve never seen anyone pick it apart before, and that the discussion around it has not changed, that people have been saying Paul deserved it since it came out. Again, this is does not jive with my experience in the Beatles fandom.

From Shout!, a book with a well known anti-McCartney streak, published in 1981: “John’s Imagine album - despite the plea for universal peace and brotherhood in the title track - launched a thermo-nuclear strike back at Paul with ‘How Do You Sleep?’ a title suggesting crimes almost in the realm of first-degree murder. The McCartney references were unmistakable, and, often, cruelly unjust: ‘The freaks was right when they said you was dead... The only thing you done was Yesterday...’ There was even a two-fingered gesture of contempt for Paul’s new outdoor life with Linda on their Scottish farm.” Also, the RS review spends two paragraphs talking specifically about how heinous and unjustifiable HDYS is. You can definitely say that rock journalism takes some of the attitude of HDYS and runs with them, such as Paul’s music sounding like muzak - that sentiment certainly persisted. But I would argue that most of the shit journos are reacting to and buying into comes from Lennon Remembers primarily, where John says all the same crap and more, and worse, rather than HDYS itself, which they seem to balk at.

They make the claim as well that the Imagine LP has been elevated to some kind of untouchable, un-criticizeable status. In the years after his death, I think there is probably some truth to that, although again, untouchable is an extreme word. Even in 2003, the LP was number 80 on Rolling Stone’s top 500 albums of all time. However, it was 227 on NME’s list in 2013 and dropped to 223 on Rolling Stone’s new 2020 list, suggesting a waning in popularity over time and a willingness to look more objectively at the quality of it.

The thing that really bothered me about this episode is like... They talk about the need for nuanced discussion of the song, right? And that’s all fine and good, and I agree, nuance in any Beatles discussion is essential if you want to get close to any actual truth. However, they then go on to say, quite adamantly, that if you say the music of the song is good, even if you think the lyrics are awful, then they wouldn’t even bother having a conversation with you. It’s very “We want nuance! NO NOT LIKE THAT! YOU’RE DOING NUANCE WRONG!” Like, I’m sorry, the music is good, in my opinion! John is very good at evoking a mood! The fact that I think George’s solo is incredible, or that the keyboard riff gives me chills, or that I think the bass goes super hard, doesn’t mean I don’t understand how rough the lyrics are or the effect they had on Paul. In fact, imho, I think it’s important that we discuss how quality the music is because it underscores the calculated cruelty John exhibited. He worked hard on this song. He wanted to create a very specific feeling out of it, and he succeeded in spades. I think if it had been crappy musically, people would have been much more contemptuous of it than they already are. As I said earlier, some of the digs don’t even make sense; I think they’re bolstered and propped up specifically because the music underneath them is so good. Also, it’s not fucking wrong to enjoy a groove.

I also take some issue with them saying that HDYS was easily among the worst things John ever did. Like... equivalent or worse than going on anti-Semitic, homophobic rants? Yikes.

There are many instances in this episode where they will go “I often read things like...” or “Jean Jackets will say...” or “I see this a lot...” and then never actually talk about where they see these things or quote directly from them. One instance goes “I often read things like, ‘John Lennon is expressing years of pent-up resentment over creative differences’, as if John is some kind of, like, drunk art teacher doling out free advice to Paul on his music.” I’ve read a lot about HDYS and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that. Just about every discussion of the song I’ve seen says very clearly that it was an unjustified, deeply personal attack. I realize there is an aversion to publicly Naming Names when you’re calling out people who perpetuate a bad narrative. But I want to know where this stuff comes from. I want to actually see what it is they’re upset about.

Lastly, they talk near the end about music innovation and experimentation, and this is where I think things go much too far in overcorrecting a narrative. The well-known narrative for many years post breakup was that Paul was a boring square who wrote granny music. That is true; he was much maligned in the press about that. However, I think post-Hertsgaard, post-Revolution In The Head, post-Complete Recording Sessions, and post-Many Years From Now, that attitude has changed quite a bit. Most serious Beatles fans know now that Paul was the first one to really get into Avant-Garde stuff; most fans know about the fact that he made McCartney 1 basically alone in a homemade studio. Most fans have probably heard or at least heard of Temporary Secretary, lmao.

But it feels like these women are still living in the past where Paul was still being maligned for being a square, so instead they go way far to the other end and say “Paul was the musical innovator, not John.” And that is just flat out NOT true. They were BOTH musical innovators. The fact that Paul was the first to get into avant-garde art does not exclude John from also being incredibly innovative and experimental in his own way. Perhaps he wasn’t doing that on Imagine; they are right that Imagine is a collection of really good but fairly commercial songs. But they utterly discount the fact that he did Strawberry Fields Forever, and I Want You (She’s So Heavy), popularized backmasking, was one of the first if not the first to use amp feedback in a song in I Feel Fine, experimented with recording his voice differently with Tomorrow Never Knows and Revolution, and also the entirety of Plastic Ono Band!!! You don’t have to downplay or erase John’s experimental contributions to music in order to elevate Paul’s. You can elevate both of them. It’s fine.

Also, this is the episode where they say Lewisohn’s book is exactly the same as all the other Jean Jackets books except thicker, and I have a viscerally bad reaction to that for many reasons I have already outlined on this blog. Suffice to say, it is demonstrably untrue (not least because Lewisohn hasn’t published anything in his Tune In series that goes beyond 1962) and unfair to someone who has done an unbelievable amount of legwork to back up his writing. They also compare Lewisohn to Goldman (???????) and call them John and Yoko’s “fuckin bitch boys saying the same shit over and over again.” I have to imagine Goldman was a misspeak and she meant someone else, but still that jarred me lmfao

#about the blogger #Anonymous #podcast blues

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wintaejk · 4 years

Text

Jungkook’s FIC REC | series

Because I spend a lot of time here on tumblr reading fanfictions, I wanted to create my own fic recs. Like that, I can recommend fictions that deserve more recognition and at the same time, if I want to reread one of them, I just have to come here.

Everything on this list is about Jungkook. And of course, all those works have been written by the authors I tagged next to the name of the fictions, they do not belong to me (and if the authors want me to remove their work from my rec, I will).

I also want to thank the authors. I really appreciate all your works and efforts to create all those beautiful stories. I send you all of my love.

I decided to try writing a commentary for each of the stories. I always try to use the right pronouns when talking about the authors, but if I used the wrong ones for you, don’t hesitate to tell me. I will change it in a minute.

(f) = fluff

(a) = angst

(m) = mature

The following fictions are all about completed and finished series. I hope you will enjoy them as much as I did.

Complete

— wanted (F) (M) | One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six — by @jincherie

You were a deserter, a renegade, a wanted “criminal”. It was never in your plans to crash land on that planet, and it most certainly wasn’t in your plans to fall in love with it’s handsome ruler.

space au | alien au | royalty au | soulmate au | +56k

Commentary - To be honest, I don’t even know where to start and what to start with. But I think I’m simply gonna start with my first thoughts of this story. Because this fiction, I saw it multiple times on many fic recs. And to be completely honest, every single time I saw it, I found the summary attractive and intriguing but something was holding me. Probably the universe. The fear of being unsatisfied and disappointed. Because the difficulty with that kind of fiction is to immerse the reader in a universe they don’t know. You then have to describe it enough so that the reader can represent it in their head, but not too much to the point of becoming heavy. And this balance between the ‘enough’ and the ‘not too much’, you find it perfectly in ‘wanted’. I was not only imagining the scenery, I was totally living it. I was seeing everything, I was completely immerged, as if I had been living in that world my whole life. Also, the other risk with diving into a fantastic universe is the possibility of writing (or reading) something that has already been done. Yes, I already read stories where the characters are traveling from planet to planet. Yes, I already read love stories between an alien and a human. And yes, I read stories with kings before. However, this story is totally coming from the author’s imagination, or at least that’s the feeling I have. I don’t feel like I’m reading another story with aliens or in the future or a love story between a king and a non-royal reader that eveybody already knows by heart. No, I am reading Rha’s own story, her scenery, her plots, her descriptions... It was coming from her and it was her interpretation of an ‘alien world’ in the future. And I was even more stunned that I was not expecting that at all. It was in definitive a fucking good surprise. If you ask my opinion, I could even imagine it being the next best-seller book and then someone adapting this fiction in the next record-breaker movie. Now, let’s talk about the love story. Shit, fuck, damn. I’ve been craving a good love story these past few days and she gave it to me. A slow burn with a good amount of actions between the two characters, a flirty and sensual back and forth, a little bit of soulmate au, characters who have a personnality and feel truthful emotions, a last chapter with full on smut... It was for me a delight! And can we talk about that smut? Spoiler alert: Rha will make you wait until the very last minute, the very last chapter. And after waiting five long chapters, I personally only had two words for that smut... The. Fuck. I was so scared when I read the warnings and I saw tentacles and triple penetration. I was wondering where the author were bringing us. BUT BUT BUT!!! Holy fuck! I think we need all to respect a minute of silence in memory of the old me who just died. BECAUSE HOLY CRAP I FEEL LIKE A NEW WOMAN. No, but honestly, I am starting a new day tomorrow as a new person. This smut was something else. Never thought tentacles could be that exc.... Okay, I’m stopping now before making a whole essay on that perfect-amount-of-kink smut :))) I am going to conclude this lil (lol lmao lmfao) comment by emphasizing the work the author put in that fiction. For me, Rha’s story deserve so much recognition. Because this is clearly one of those fics where you can feel everything has been thought. Everything has an explanation, everything arrives at the perfect moment, everything is followed by a logical event, without being predictable. The plot, the secondary plots, the characters, the details... This author truly has nothing to envy to those ‘famous authors’ like J.K. Rowling, J.R.R. Tolkien, Jane Austen... This was not the first fiction she wrote that I read (she actually is the second account writing about bts I followed) and it is not a surprise that I loved so much this story. I am even certain, even if I just finished reading it, that this fiction will be one of those that you remember of, even years and years after you first read them. So Rha, if you happen to read this, let me tell you that you have a real talent, and you should keep embracing it! Love you lots, sweetheart, and I’m looking forward your next pieces of art.

— Falling Skies (F) (A) (M) | Prologue ; One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six — by @fortunexkookie

Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. Once upon a time, she had called you her sun and him her moon; it was fitting, given the constant push-and-pull between you two. You used to consider him a friend, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.

You often wondered how Jiyeon wasn’t bothered by his behavior. In fact, she often seemed to encourage it. What you failed to see was that she was just trying to show you how he reflected your light. Jiyeon had realized he was in love with you even before he did, but of course she knew. It was a twin thing.

So despite the fighting and teasing, you always found yourself drawn back to him. You knew he was one of two constants in your life: the Jeon twins were - and had always been - your one indisputable truth. You were the sun, Jungkook was the moon, and Jiyeon was the sky holding you both up When she died, it ripped a black hole right through you.

friends to enemies | enemies to friends | friends to lovers | +50k

Commentary - I think I will never have the words to express how much I love this story. This fiction has its own place in my heart, and I have the need to come back from time to time to read again and again and again this beautiful piece of work. I’m gonna be honest with you. If you don’t like angst, if you don’t want to suffer even a little bit, this fiction is not for you. However, you would miss something. And a big something. Yes, your heart will sink, you might even cry but dammit, it is so worth it. Plus you will find some comfort in Jungkook and reader’s love story. Who doesn’t love a good ‘enemies to lovers’ at the same time of a ‘friends to lovers’. Did I mention smut? No, I did not yet. SMUT, ladies and gentleman. Good smut. In a few words to summarize that all, this is an amazing, wonderful, brilliant masterpiece. Just... go read it.

— Roommates (M) | One ; Two ; Three — by @tayegi

When you accepted to let Jungkook, your best friend’s younger brother, to live with you, you did not take into account how much he grew up… and became that handsome young man.

roommate au | best friend’s brother | college au | +25k

Commentary - I’m pretty sure I couldn’t count how many times I read that fiction on only one hand. This story is the definition of slow-burn itself. As well as a collation of a roommate au, a best friend’s brother au, a friends to lovers au and an older reader. Let me tell you that when Jungkook and reader finally decides to act on that tension, it doesn’t end up in fire, but rathen in a volcanic eruption. And let’s be honest, that is exactly what we are here for.

— Animal (F) (A) (M) | One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine — by @cutaepatootie

“I don’t want to die without telling someone about her,” he says, his voice softening when he says ‘her’. “I don’t want to disappear without the world knowing about her and what she did for me.”

“About her?” the girl frowns.

Maybe his daughter? His sister?

The man turns his head and faces the girl, a soft, distant smile plastered on his lips. The gesture is nostalgic, sad, almost loving.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, the name rolling off his lips softly, just as softly as the waves of the sea roll over the sand. “Her name was Y/N.”

boxer au | flashback au | +115k

Commentary - I’m not gonna lie, this story, I haven’t read it much. Simply because every single time I read it, I left some parts of my heart behind me. You can’t and I promise you that you won’t come out of this fanfiction in one piece. My heart broke the first time I read it. And the second time. And the third time. And this is probably the most I read it. Not that I didn’t like it, on the contrary: it is one of my favorite fictions in here. But there are some stories that you can’t read too many times, because they bring you such a combination of pain and joy, suffering and contentment, sorrow and euphoria that it is hard to handle, that you need some time to heal before reading it again. Putting words on what I felt while reading it is hard. I loved the characters, I loved the plot, the different stages of their relationship... And the end! I don’t think I would find someone who wouldn’t want for the end to be different. The last part let me in pain. Literally. I had a knot in my stomach and tears in my eyes. I had to stop two or three times to breathe in before continuing. In conclusion, if you love stories full of emotions, just go for that one. I read a lot, like a freaking whole lot. And fuck, this fiction is beautiful. Destructive also, but it is really worth it.

— Bunny Boy (M) | One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five — by @parkmuse

Catching feelings for your sisters friend wasn’t part of your plan.

sister’s best friend | older!reader | virgin!reader | +17k

Commentary - If you have the same taste as me in terms of fictions, you will like this fiction. There’s no complicated plot behind this story, but this is exactly what I loved about it. Sometimes, you just need a simple story between the reader and her sister’s best friend. A simple story between two young people pining for each other. A simple story maybe, but with a lot of charm. I particurly appreciate this story because of its simplicity. Love is not always complicated and impossible, and it is refreshing to read a story that remins you of that.

— Cream & Sugar (F) (M) | One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six — by @taehyungforreal

Stepping into this coffee shop was either the best or the worst idea of your life. You know that barista, you know he’s great in bed. You also know he’s the biggest asshole you’ve ever met.

escort au | barista au | enemies to lovers | +36k

Commentary - Cream & Sugar is another gem you can find on tumblr. Every time I read this serie, I fall in love once again with the characters of this stories. They are realistic, genuine and fierce. And this is what I love the most about Ashley’s fictions: the realism she puts in every single one of her work. The stories are thought, the psychology of the characters have been analyzed, the plot is consistent. This is not a coincidence I love everything that she writes; she has talent, and you should go read her fictions. And if you love slow-burn, sexual tension, and a good enemies to lovers universe, I warmly recommend you to start with this beautiful serie that I read multiple times and that I will continue to read again and again.

— Everything in you (F) (M) | One ; Two — by @jjungkookislife

Y/n wants a baby, Jungkook is wiiling to help.

best friends to lovers | roommate au | pregnant!reader | +24k

Commentary - If you are looking for a cute and soft Jungkook’s story, I hardly recommend you to not click on this one. And for the others who are ready to give it a go, make sure to prepare your eyes and soul beforehand. This fiction is made of 90% of smut. This is kinky Jungkook asf, this is filth, this is all we like to read. Plus if we add the friends to lovers theme on top of everything else, this fiction can be considered as the holy grail for sinners like me. (But if you consider yourself pure and innocent, I promise the damnation is worth it.)

— the jeon twins (F) (A) ; kookie ending ; jk ending — by @krreader

jk thought he was doing this for his twin’s good. falling in love with you while pretending to be kookie was never something he planned on doing and he hated himself for it.

twins!jeon | college au | badboy!jk | nerd!kookie

Commentary - I loved the concet of this fiction. A double ending, so everyone is happy at the end. Plus we have the duality of Jungkook in one fiction: the nerdy part of him vs the iNtErNaTiOnAl PlAyBoY one. And I have to admit that I’m a sucker for both of them. So having them reunited in one fiction is a delight.

— fear is forever (F) (A) | One: fear in your eyes ; Two: forever and a night — by @gukyi

there’s a werewolf in that forest behind your house, they told you, and he’ll eat you before you can even beg for mercy.

werewolf au | strangers to lovers | +8k

Commentary - For some reasons, this story hit me hard. I love reading werewolf au, or should I say that I just love everything that is supernatural and magical. But this one was different. No crazy smut, no mate au, no pack. At some point, I even thought about Red Riding Hood, but not because the stories are similar. Far from it. I didn’t realize it directly, but after a few days, I was still thinking about it, and I could imagine telling that story to my future children. And then I realized why I was associating it to Red Riding Hood. This story feels like a fairytale. The famous ones. The ones that you tell your children before they go to sleep. The ones with magic, as much in the story itself as in the way it is written. The ones that make you still think about them days after you first read it. This story is literally a fairytale.

— Cafuné (F) (A) (M) | One ; Two — by @daffodilon

cafuné - (brazilian portuguese)

“the act of running your fingers through your lover’s hair; among the few words that cannot be directly translated into english”

roommates au | friends to lovers | +19k

Commentary - This fiction is the personification of the friends to lovers au itself. You want soft? You will have soft. You want soft smut? You will have soft smut. You want soft smut with Jungkook? Seriously, I don’t know why you still are here reading my bullshit when you could be reading that beautiful baby instead.

— vaunt (M) | One ; Two — by @yminie

Every weekend Beta Tau throws a ‘little’ party to help students relax and let loose, and the frat resident Jungkook has a big mouth that talks a lot of big game. You finally get sick of the lack of relaxation on your end and set out to see if he’s all talk.

college au | fratboy!jungkook | enemies to lovers | +18k

Commentary - I only have three words to describe that fiction: big dick Jungkook. You want reasons to go read this story? A lot of smut. A good amount of crack. A little bit of fluff to end the story. And also, fuckboy!jungkook; fratboy!jungkook; and Big. Dick. Jungkook. You want a little bit more of filth and sin in your life? You are in the right place, that’s all I have to say.

— bad for you (A) (M) | drabble 1 ; drabble 2 ; Epilogue: undressed — by @yoonia

His whole presence emits sin and danger, and you are not supposed to be attracted to him on the first glance.

stripper au | bachelorette au | +31k

Commentary - Another fiction that I love reading again from time to time. And yes, cheating is wrong. Don’t do it at home kids. But no, I am not ashamed to love that fiction so much. I’m a sucker for Jungkook. But I’m a hoe for stripper!Jungkook. Plus the alchemy between reader and Jk is too good to not count that fiction in the top of my list of fictions. You add smut, fluff and the right amount of angst and BAM! You end up with a five stars fiction that you will devour until the very end.

#fic rec #jeon jungkook fic rec #jeon jungkook #bts fic rec #series fic rec

117 notes · View notes

rainbowserenity · 4 years

Note

1. “Do you want me to leave?” - Hopurai

royal!AU tag

my intention with this AU was for it to be a bunch of oneshots that could be read separately….but this is the installment that makes me wish I’d had the foresight to just make it into a multichapter fic 8D;if you don’t want to go in blindly, I would HIGHLY recommend (re?)reading at least the previous installment before the this one. all the fics are in the above linked tag, or they’re in a collection on AO3 here

sorry for being so ridiculous lmao

*****

Therewas such a strange disconnect from staring outside the windows of thepalace as opposed to when she’d had to stare out of a hole in theceiling back when she’d been living in the slums. Back then, she’d belooking up into the smog-covered sky, trying against all odds to seethe stars that the fal'cie would bring at night.

Now,sitting in her office, she could literally look down on so much ofEden since the palace towered over pretty much everything except thefal'cie Phoenix itself. It was weird, to say the least.

Well,she supposed it was no stranger than Lightning Farron, former soldierand resident of the slums, being discovered as Eden’s long-lostprincess.

Lightningfrowned slightly as she watched people go about their daily business.From up here, they looked like ants. It was hard to believe that somecould be struggling or confused or going through heartbreak…

Notthat she’d know anything about heartbreak. At all. Nope.

“Hey,you finished yet?”

Witha sigh, Lightning pulled her gaze away from the window and stared atSazh, who was officially her adviser, but really played the role of ababysitter. It was insulting if she thought about it too much. “Doesit look like I’ve finished?”

“True.”Sazh waltzed up to her desk and pointedly stared at the pile ofpapers. “'Cause if you had finishedthis incredibly easy task, I bet you would’ve found me already andclaimed that poor ol’ Sazh was overworked and needed a vacation - ”

“Itried to give you a vacation after the ball,” Lightning pointedout, raising an eyebrow. “You told me I’d probably set the palaceon fire if you left for a day.”

“AndI’m probably right!”

“Doubtful.”Lightning rolled her eyes and tapped her pen against the papers infront of her a few times. “I’m fairly sure that I, a grown adultwho’s been taking care of herself since she was a teenager, couldeasily manage without you for a few days.”

“Keeptellin’ yourself that.” Sazh picked up one of the papers. “Whichone are you working on?”

“Theletter to Vanille.” DiaVanille had been an important guest at Lightning’s introduction balla few days ago. It was a gathering that had officially presented heras Eden’s princess, which, in turn, would hopefully open up newrelations. Now she was supposed to be writing letters of intent toget people on her side with whatever she planned to do as regent.

Despitefinding the whole practice completely ridiculous, Lightning actuallyhad gotten along fairly well with the Duchess of Luxerion, Vanille.She had to wonder if this was partially because her bodyguard wasfriends with the Duchess and that made it easier to like her.

Or…formerbodyguard, she supposed.

“Keepit short and sweet,” Sazh advised. “Vanille’s not much for longletters.”

“Andyou think I am?”

“Justlet me dream a little, geez. Kids these days.”

Lightningrolled her eyes again, her mind wandering to the ball. Chatting withVanille and her girlfriend Fang, the Princess of Oerba…dancing in adress that glittered with an obnoxious amount of diamonds…steppingonto the balcony with -

Ugh,okay, definitely not goingthere.

Aftera pause where she wrote a few words, Lightning glanced up. Sazh wasscribbling something in a book – probably grading her on heretiquette, hmph. “Was there something else you needed?”

“Yes,as a matter of fact.” Sazh stopped writing and plopped into a chairwithout any grace. If she’d done the same, he would’ve recoiled inhorror. “We didn’t really get a chance to talk after the ball.Gotta say, I’m impressed with how you handled things.”

“Itwas a glorified dance. Not too difficult.”

Thatwas a lie and they both knew it. Lightning had grown up in a suburbof Eden and then spent her teenage years in the slums – she’d neverbeen to any sort of dance, never mind a ball of the caliber that’dbeen held in her honor. Beingparaded around like a doll had been one of the most difficult thingsshe’d ever done. Luckily, she’d met Vanille and Fang very early onduring the night and their new-foundfriendship had made goingthrough the motions much easier.

Therewas someone else who’d helped out, but she preferred not to think toohard about that.

“Yeah,yeah.” Sazh waved a hand. “Keep tellin’ yourself that. And tellme your thoughts –anybody there you think we could strengthen an alliance with? Or formone? Technically, Eden’s always been on good terms with the otherkingdoms since Phoenix is the most important fal'cie, but there’salways room for improvement. See any of that? Or…” He raised aneyebrow. “Any potential suitors?”

Lightningducked her head, hoping against everything that the heat she feltsimmering under her skin was from a…hot flash or something. Yeah,that totally made sense. She wasn’t about to blush atthe thought of a certain personal bodyguard taking her to see astar-filled sky and light-studded city. There was definitely nothought of his hands on her, his lips caressing hers…

“Nosuitors,” she finally said, clearing her throat and daring to lookup. At least her face felt normal. “Serah seemed to like the Patronof Yusnaan, though.” She frowned.

“What,you got a problem with him?” Sazh looked faintly amused. “I knowhe’s just a kid, but then again, so are you.”

“Hejust seemed…” Lightning shook her head. There were only a fewwords she could think of to describe Snow Villiers, and none of themwere all that flattering. “But we’ve been on particularly goodterms with Yusnaan, so it doesn’t really matter. Fang seemed to likeme, so maybe we can strengthen ties with Oerba.”

“Thatgirl’s an odd one.” Sazh leaned back in his chair, looking lost inthought. “I’m pretty sure all she really gives a damn about isVanille. For awhile, it was lookin’ like Oerba and Luxerion wouldofficially join forces, possibly to try and topple Eden and take overPhoenix.”

Lightningraised her eyebrows. “Could they do that?”

“Probably.Ain’t like the fal'cie care that much.”

Shehad no idea if that was true. Lightning had yet to see Phoenix inperson since being found as the princess of Eden. “Do you thinkFang was trying to get on my good side, then? And then betray me whenleast expected?”

“Nahhh.If Vanille liked you, then Fang’s sure as hell not gonna mess withyou or anybody in Eden. And trust me, Vanille is as genuine as theycome. Kinda hard to believe she’s royalty sometimes.” Sazh sighedin exasperation. “I’ve worked with so many of you kids over theyears that I wonder if you all share the same stick up your ass.”

Insteadof biting back with a retort, Sazh’s comment made Lightning asksomething she’d been wondering for awhile. “That’s right – bothFang and Vanille said that they knew you. You were an adviser forsome members of the old family, too.”

“Gladto see you pay attention when I talk.”

“Thatdoesn’t make much sense, though,” Lightning continued, ignoringSazh’s comment. “You’re not even twice my age. You said you’ve beenserving the old family for years, but if you served Fang and Vanilletoo…”

“Inever told you?” Now Sazh looked confused, but also a littleconcerned. It was very strange to see him with an expression towardsher that wasn’t exasperation. “Huh, guess I wouldn’t have at thebeginning. And things have been so crazy with the ball andeverything…”

“Toldme what?”

Sazhundid the top two buttons of his shirt and tugged it down a bit. Itwas still hidden under some fabric, but there were a bunch oftelltale lines and intersecting arrows that made Lightning sit ramrodstraight in her chair, eyes widening a bit. She knew what it meantbefore Sazh even said the words.

“I’ma l'cie.”

Thestories had spread among the slums – scary children’s tales thatwould send Serah crying into her arms in fear. L'cie were warriorschosen by fal'cie and sent to fight their battles, using magic farmore powerful and horrifying than the average person was capable of.They would live forever until the fal'cie grew tired of them andended their misery with agony, only to gather new warriors and repeatthe cycle anew.

Sincethere hadn’t been a real war in centuries, l'cie were just terriblestories. Even though Lightning knew they were likely just that –stories – nobody she knew had ever met or been one, so itwas hard to say what was the truth or not.

Itwas true, however – recorded in history books and all –that l'cie were branded when they were made. The lines intersectingon Sazh’s skin perfectly matched what Lightning knew.

“You’re– how - ”

“Ohc'mon, you know damn well I’m not some war machine. I hear thosestories. Most of ‘em are totally untrue. Probably made up by somefanatic or anti-war group back in the day.” Sazh shrugged andbuttoned his shirt, hiding the brand from sight.

“Thenwhat is true?”

“One,we don’t live forever. But it does stretch things out a bit.” Hechuckled. “You pretty much stop physically aging once you’rebranded. Good thing, or I’d have half a century’s worth of gray hairfrom all you kids stressin’ me out.”

Lightningdid not laugh. She still felt something akin to horror, though Sazh’snonchalant attitude and her own logic were calming her down a bit.“But why were you branded? I’ve always heard that l'cie werejust tools for war.”

“LikeI said, stories.” Sazh waved a hand. “Yeah, sure, some were madefor war, but most l'cie are branded to carry out a certain purpose,whether for war or whatever else.”

“Andlet me guess,” Lightning said, her head starting to clear, “yourpurpose is to annoy me?”

“Close.”He chuckled again. “Nah, the old queen’s mother put in a good wordfor me with Phoenix. I kinda fell into the adviser role and the royalfamily was damn impressed. They asked if I wanted to do it forlonger, and well…” He shrugged. “Here I am. ‘Course, I’d go outto ally kingdoms or whatnot. In Duchess Vanille’s case, her parentsdied when she was barely a kid, so I kept an eye on her. I only knowPrincess Fang through her, though.”

“Isee.” And she did, actually. The initial shock had finally wornoff. Honestly, she couldn’t see why someone would want to live foryears and years doing the sort of thing Sazh did, but now she knewhow he was so good at his job…literal years of practice. “And I’mguessing this is common knowledge among the other royals?”

“Well,yeah. I’m everywhere, you know.” He tapped the side of his head.“Can’t do much to hide that.”

“Isuppose not.” Of course she was the last to know…but then again,she always seemed to be the last to know things lately, sowhat did one more thing matter?

“Onthat note, I’ve got some other things I need to do.” The tone inSazh’s voice had gone so serious that it made Lightning glance upfrom her letter and frown in confusion.

“Whatthings?”

“Geez,so nosy.” He shook his head. “Don’t you worry about it. Finishyour letters and I’ll have one of the assistants come in andproofread them.”

Sherolled her eyes. “Sure.”

Hewas already halfway out the door, but still called out as thought heactually had eyes in the back of his head. “I saw that!”

Lightningshook her head and stared back down at her letter to Vanille, tappingher pen against the paper a few times. Even though it’d been quitesome time since she’d been found as Eden’s princess, the formalityand unspoken rules still baffled her. Ever since meeting a bunch ofthem at her introduction ball, however, she’d seen that many of themfound some of the rules and etiquette archaic as well.

Sowhy did they have to do it?

Shesighed heavily and slumped in her chair – a posture that Sazh wouldfrown upon, but for once, she was blessedly alone. Not even a maidwas to be seen, although she could hear people puttering in thehallways outside her office. It was so rare these days she couldactually be by herself. Usually she at least had her personalbodyguard with her…

“No,”she muttered, chiding herself. She would not think about him.She would not wonder where he’d gone after running from her atthe ball, and she would certainly not replay the images oftheir kiss in her mind.

Nope.Not her.

Lightningheaved another sigh and shoved the papers aside, going back tostaring out the window. Concentration was clearly useless, at leastfor now. She may as well take advantage of Sazh not being around todemand her to do stuff.

–

Itwas only a few days later when she got the news.

Shewas in the sitting area of her suite, talking to Serah on the phone –an encrypted, ridiculously secure line, of course. Actually beingable to see her sister would’ve been better, but Serah wascompletely swamped with work at the university and couldn’t get away.

Therewas always, however, time for a phone call.

“Ijust don’t get what you see in him,” Lightning muttered, scribblingin the margins of her scrap paper. She was still working on thoseletters and had been trying to think of good things to say SnowVilliers, Patron of Yusnaan. It was exceedingly difficult.

Forher, anyway.

“He’sso sweet!” Serah basically swooned over the phone. “And don’t youthink he’s handsome? I wonder if he’ll wear the same outfit at myintroduction ball.”

Lightningfrowned. “He’s a big lug that kept stepping on my feet.”

“Notto mention that you can tell he really cares about his people.”Serah kept going on like her sister had said nothing. “Maybe it’sbecause he was elected? I mean, I know you care about everyone in thekingdom, but some of the other royals who have lived it since theywere born….it’s different for them. Don’t you think so?”

Unconsciously,Lightning’s grip on her phone tightened. He’d said that to her morethan once.

Youknow what it’s like on the other side. You’ll be able to bring realchange.

Herstomach fluttered and she willed the door to knock – something,anything to let her know that her personal bodyguard wascoming back.

Knock-knock.

Shestared at the door. Could it be…?

“YourHighness?”

Hershoulders drooped so quickly that she nearly dropped the phone. Sherecognized the quiet voice of Yeul, one of her maids. With a heavysigh, she called out, “Just a moment!”

“Sis?Do you want me to leave?”

“Sorry,Serah.” Lightning heaved another sigh. “I have to go. I’ll callyou back tonight, okay?”

“Okay!I should probably get back to all this homework.” Her tone grewteasing. “You think they’d let a princess catch a break.”

“Ifyou’d wanted to catch any breaks, you wouldn’t have applied to themost prestigious university in the world,” Lightning teased back.“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay.Love you!”

“Youtoo.”

Anotherquiet knock sounded at the door. This time, Lightning stood, herposture automatically straight as she smoothed down her clothes. Asthere hadn’t been anything urgent on her schedule for the day, she’dopted for comfortable slacks and a thin cashmere sweater – clothingshe’d take over diamond-studded ball gowns any day.

“Comein.”

Yeulentered the room, dropping into a curtsy. All of the servantscontinued to be ridiculously formal around her, despite herinsistence otherwise. It was sort of why she appreciated Sazh naggingher all the time, though hell would freeze over before she’d admitit.

Andspeak of the devil…

“Mr.Katzroy requests that you join him in the conference room, YourHighness.”

Lightningfrowned, the request immediately striking her as odd. Usually Sazhsought her out himself when he needed something, or at least wouldbring her to whatever room he needed. Especially since this palacewas ridiculously huge and she still didn’t always know her wayaround.

“Conferenceroom?”

“Yes.”Yeul bowed her head. “Allow me to escort you.”

“Sure.”Lightning was all too happy to leave her papers and thoughts ofwriting to Snow behind…although surely whatever Sazh had plannedfor her would be just as annoying.

Itturned out she wasn’t too far off.

Yeulmurmured something into a speaker that was attached to the earpieceshe was wearing, presumably telling her coworkers where she was. Therest of the walk was fairly quiet, which was fine with her. Lightningwas more than okay with staring at the paintings and pricelessartifacts that adorned the walls. A lot of them were portraits of herextremely distant ancestors. Apparently she and Serah would have tosit for portraits at some point and then they’d be on the wallsforever. It was a very weird thought.

Whenthe finally reached the conference room, Yeul curtsied again beforeopening one of the wide doors. “Her Highness, Princess Lightning,has arrived,” she called, her soft voice echoing into the emptyroom.

“Thanks,”Lightning said, nodding at Yeul before she stepped inside. There wasa weird flash of gold that struck Yeul’s eyes, but it was probablyjust glare from all the artifacts around them. Weird.

Theconference room was huge, with tons of folded seats and what lookedlike a stage and podium. It reminded her a bit of a theater withoutthe screen. “Sazh?”

“Overhere.” He was off to the side, where there was a table and somechairs covered with papers. She hurried over to him. “Always makin’an old man wait, huh?”

“Yeah,yeah.” It felt weird to comment on that since now she had a roughidea of just how old Sazh really was. “How come you calledme here?”

“Nobodyever uses this room and I wanted to inform you of something inprivate.”

Instantly,Lightning’s heart began to pound. For whatever reason, her firstthought was of the night of the ball. Had someone seen them out onthe balcony? Was there some protocol about a princess and herbodyguard sharing a kiss?

“It’sabout your coronation.”

Shelet out a huge breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding,slumping in her seat a bit. She ignored the evil eye Sazh gave her.“What about it?”

“Asyou know, the old family kept their power tightly reigned.” Themore he spoke, the more serious Sazh became. It was weirdlyoff-putting. “All of the descendants have been, more or less,direct from the first king. Kinda a cut and dry family tree, evenwith all the marriages and what have you.”

“Right.”Lightning vaguely recalled this when she’d been forced to study theold family. The crown almost always went to the firstborn son ordaughter, which wasn’t so unusual for royalty, she supposed, but thefamily tree was streamlined to the point where many of thefirstborn’s siblings rarely got married or had children of their own.It was why she and Serah being a part of all of this was basicallyunprecedented.

Veryweird.

“LikeI told you, I’ve had some dealings with the old family. And I’m notthat old to remember the first king, but there’s a reason theykept the family as it was.”

“Sazh,please.” Lightning was rapidly running out of patience. She wasn’treally sure why, but something in her just wanted to hear thenews already. “Get to the point.”

“Soimpatient,” he muttered. “Okay, fine – long story short – thecoronation and ruling status are only valid with approval fromPhoenix.”

Itfelt like a block of ice had suddenly dropped in her stomach,although it took her a moment to rationalize why. “Approval?”“Yes.”The serious tone in Sazh’s voice grew. “You meet with the fal'ciein a special one-on-one ceremony. Phoenix will brand you as the nextruler of Eden. Not like a l'cie,” he added hastily, whenLightning’s gaze focused on the spot where his brand was hidden.“There’s no permanent mark, although it lasts 'til you’reofficially crowned. Then you’re free to rule as you please.”

Theice turned to lead in her gut. “Okay, so I meet with Phoenix andit…approves of me.” She frowned. “Why tell me this in secrecy?This is probably common knowledge among the royals, right?”

“Yeah.Some of the others brand their rulers like this too, but Phoenix isthe most important because, well…obvious reasons and all.”

“Isee.” The perfect placeholder reply, because this whole thing madeher feel…uneasy. Phoenix was arguably the most importantfal'cie in the world. Without the sun and life it provided, therewould be no world. The fal'cie from other kingdoms couldeasily be replaced with hard work and effort from humanity.

Butthe sun? There was no replacement for that.

Theenormity of her role in the world suddenly hit her like a train. Itdidn’t matter if her sister or the other royals or certain personalbodyguards believed in her. She’d never been very good at followingrules and had always thought of herself as very independent. The factthat she was to be in charge of everything under somethingelse’s power made her want to take a sword to Phoenix just to rid theworld of it, so humanity could try to thrive on its own.

Notthat she would – or could – ever admit this out loud.

“There’sone other thing,” Sazh added when she said nothing more.

Lightningrolled her eyes a little, mostly out of habit. “What?”

Hedidn’t comment on her rudeness. “I know for a fact thatyou’re part of the royal bloodline. Ol’ Sazh did his research. Youdon’t even want to know what dusty old books and old familyrecords I had to look up to find you and your sister.”

“You’vementioned this.” She raised an eyebrow. “Many times, in fact.”

“'Causeit’s true.” There was a pause before his voice went grave.“However, if Phoenix doesn’t approve of you for whatever reason ordecides you’re not worthy of the power to rule…”

Lightningwaited a moment for him to finish, but she knew what he meant when hetrailed off. This, maybe, was the source of her instant uneasinesswhen he’d started talking. It was everything she hadn’t known she wasdreading since coming into the conference room.

“…Phoenixwill kill me.” She met his eyes. “Won’t it?”

“There’snot much of a chance it’ll disapprove of you,” Sazh repliedquickly. She wondered who he was trying to convince. “Like I said,I did my research and you’re a part of the bloodline. I’ve heardthat’s all it really cares about. It’s not like the fal'cie reallygive a damn about human affairs, y'know?”

“Right.”She ignored the unsaid words – there was still that chance Phoenixwould cast her aside and everything would be for nothing.

Betterme than Serah.

Thatwas what it always came down to, the first thought her instinct wentto. Serah was the one who deserved a comfortable life withresponsibilities chosen by her and not some rule or bloodline. It wasbecause of her sister that Lightning had worked her ass off when theywere still in the slums, doing everything she could to give Serahever opportunity possible.

Shenever thought there was the possibility it could lead to her death.

Butwhat about her role now? Though she hadn’t asked for any of this, shewas slowly finding herself eager to make changes around the kingdomof Eden and make things better for people who weren’t long-lostmembers of the royal family.

“You’veseen both sides. I think that’ll eventually come to be your biggeststrength.”

Eventhough she kept trying not to think about a certain personalbodyguard, his words from the ball popped into her head. She’d alwaystaken his reassurance to heart, but now it had a thousand times moremeaning.

Thoughshe would never deny that Serah had also suffered in the past,Lightning had always watched out for her and sacrificed somuch to ensure that her needs were met. Their experiences weredifferent because of that.

Nobodyhad ever looked out for Lightning until now.

Andbecause of that, she was the only one who could truly changethings.

Shewas quiet for another moment as though contemplating, but short ofrunning away, there was really only one answer. There had only everbeen one answer.

Lightningsucked in a breath and met Sazh’s eyes, trying to steel herself withdetermination.

“Whatdo I need to do before meeting with Phoenix?”

–

Aswith practically everything related to this princess business, thepre-ceremony rituals were completely over the top and ridiculous.Someday she’d realize that nobody around here ever did things simply.

Overthe next couple of days, she rehearsed the ancient words that wouldsummon Phoenix to an audience with her. A handful of older maids –ones that had been tasked with all of the ritual business with theold family – helped her with cleansing baths and created theceremonial outfit. They were all sworn to secrecy.

Shefigured that made sense. If she was killed by Phoenix, it’d beeasier in the long run to play it off as some kind of accident ratherthan the most important fal'cie in the world rejecting her.

Butshe tried not to think about that. Besides the maids – and Sazh, ofcourse – the only other person who knew about the upcoming ceremonywas Serah, and that was simply because there was no way shewas keeping this a secret from her sister.

Lightningdidn’t mention the risks, though. Some things were better kept quiet.

“Snowtalks to Pandaemonium sometimes,” Serah mused over the phone. Itwas the night before Lightning’s meeting with Phoenix and she decidedshe’d needed the distraction. “Maybe he could give you advice!”

“Idon’t want any advice from that big lug.” She rolled her eyes, notwanting to admit she was curious, but… “…Talks to it how?”

Serah’svoice was a little knowing, but she didn’t tease. “He told me it’snot so much words. It’s not like conversing with a person – thefal'cie send images and they get clearer the more you have a mutualunderstanding.” She hummed a little. “Maybe it’s easy for himbecause he was elected the Patron.”

“Ormaybe his head’s so empty that the images come easier because there’snothing in the way.”

“Sis.”Serah huffed in exasperation. “Be nice.”

“I’dbe nicer if you were less interested in him.”

“Buthe’s so sweet!”

“Hmph.”This was what she wanted to worry about – who was goodenough for her sister and ridiculous things like that…not if thefal'cie who basically sustained the world was going to kill her.

Shecouldn’t let herself think about it.

Luckily,Serah was eager to keep chatting – mostly about Snow, toLightning’s disgust – and her nerves settled somewhat. Her sisterwas the one person who could distract her from this whole princessthing.

Well,her and another person, but she didn’t want to think about him,either.

Thenight passed quickly and soon Lightning was too tired to even hold upthe phone. She fell asleep quickly without having time to dwell onthe ceremony the next day. Just as planned.

Ironically,the sun woke her gently the following morning, which was a nicechange from her alarm going off or someone knocking on her door. Infact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up so calmly.

Ifonly it was enough to make up for what was about to happen.

Thecalm was unfortunately short-lived, because about thirty secondsafter she’d stood up and stretched, someone knocked at her door.

“YourHighness?”

Lightningsighed heavily, immediately recognizing the voice of the oldest ofthese in-the-know maids. “Come in.”

Therewere three of them and they filed in slowly, their hands clasped infront as they walked. She realized this was an incredibly serious andformal situation, but the realness of it smacked her in the face atthe sight of the maids looking so grave. That lead block that’dformed in her gut when Sazh initially told her about all of hisreturned in full force.

“Thisway.” One of the maids gestured to her ensuite bathroom, whereanother maid was already running the water. Lightning could see heradding special oils and herbs to the tub, apparently part of thewhole cleansing ritual.

Shewas already long used to shedding her modesty in front of otherpeople since this whole princess thing had become a part of her life,but she’d never hated it more than she had at this second. Undressingand slipping into the tub in front of the others just made this wholething feel weird and awkward and way more serious than she wanted itto be. It didn’t help that she knew arguing was useless; the oldestmaid had a glare that could probably take down Sazh – a trait she’dlove to learn, to be honest. Maybe she’d ask for lessons later.

Providedshe survived Phoenix’s judgment, of course.

Withthat thrilling thought in mind, Lightning allowed herself to be driedafter the bath and wrapped in a robe. She had to admit that whateverhad been added to the bath made her skin feel like new. There’d neverbeen any time or money to bother with girly lotions and potionsbefore Sazh had found them, but maybe there was some merit in it.

Onceshe was sufficiently dry, she was led into her enormous walk-inwardrobe, where the ceremonial gown was waiting for her. It wasactually quite a beautiful dress – a flowing garment in shades ofgold, white, and blue. There was a cape with a long train attached tothe back, maybe just to add to the ridiculousness. Phoenix’s brandwas embroidered along the edges in gold.

Themaids helped her into the gown and simple gold shoes. One of themclasped a gold bracelet with multicolored stones around her wrist.

“What’sthis?” Lightning asked, lifting her arm to inspect the bracelet. Anumber of jewels were kept in her wardrobe and a lot were in storage,but she was fairly sure she’d never seen this one before. It wasweirdly flashy and simple at once.

“Agift from Phoenix, Your Highness,” the youngest of the maidsanswered (although 'young’ in this case was about eighty years old).“It’s said that that fal'cie itself put it on the wrist of thefirst king. Ever since then, it’s been a tradition to wear it to theMeeting.”

Lightningsuddenly lost all interest in the bracelet and dropped her arm. “Oh.”

Thefinal part of her outfit was a headpiece that fit snugly in her hair.Long lines of gold extended from the band in varying lengths, thelongest about a foot. It formed a semicircle around her head – madeto resemble rays of the sun, she realized as she looked in a mirror.

“Whenyou’re ready, we’ll escort you,” the oldest maid said after apause.

“…Right.”Lightning let out a breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ifany of them found her comment weird, they made no mention. Instead,they simply ushered her out of her suite. The hallway – whichusually had people milling about cleaning and whatnot – was emptyexcept for them. Two of the maids stood on either side and one was infront to lead the way.

Theywalked like that the whole time in silence, the only sound being thewhoosh of her cape flowing over the floor. Usually Lightning reveledin quiet, but this silence felt way too heavy. It carried foreboding.

Doom.

Still,all she did was recite her summoning words in her mind, hoping shewouldn’t forget them. She’d never been one to crack under pressure,but this was a whole different level.

Itseemed like they’d walked for miles before they finally stopped infront of an enormous door. Lightning realized she’d actually passedthis area a handful of times, but the door was nondescript and tuckedaway, so she’d never given thought to what could be behind it.

Themaid in front slowly pulled the door open. Sunlight poured in and shetried not to squint at the glare.

“Wecan go no further,” the maid said. “Please head forward for yourceremony.”

“Thanks.”

Theyall curtsied in unison as she stepped into the light, not risinguntil the door slowly creaked shut behind her. Forget the lead in hergut; her stomach was doing cartwheels by now.

“Thatyou?”

Lightningnever thought she’d be so damn grateful to hear Sazh’s voice. She letout a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding and hurried over –as much as she could in this outfit, anyway – and even though hestill looked grave and serious, it was still a relief to be aroundsomeone normal.

Well,normal to her, anyway.

“Ididn’t think you’d be here,” she said, trying to sound composed. “Ithought it might be against the rules or whatever.”

Despitethe serious expression on his face, Sazh smirked a little. “Whathave I been tellin’ you? There’s no getting rid of me. Besides, youhave any idea what you’re doing right now?”

Lightninglooked around the room for the first time. It was weirdly bright andwhite, though she could vaguely make out ornate designs on the wallsin gold. Ahead of her was more brightness and – was that fog?

Yeah,she was totally lost.

“Thoughtso,” was all Sazh replied at the look on her face. “All right,lemme lead you through it. Ask your questions or forever hold yourpeace.”

“Justtell me how to get to Phoenix,” she replied. “I want to get thisover with.”

“Fairenough.” He shook his head in exasperation and then gestured to theweirdly bright, foggy area in front of them. “Head forward untilyou see a crystal. It’ll be floating in midair, so try not to freak.”

“I’veseen freakier things.”

“Yeah,yeah.” He rolled his eyes, which was oddly comforting. “Once youget to the crystal, hold cup your hands around it.” Sazh held uphis own hands to demonstrate. “Then recite the summons you’veundoubtedly memorized. That should take you right to Phoenix.”

Lightningheld up her hands in the same way Sazh had. “Crystal, hands,recite. I think I’ve got it.”

“Youdo.” He stared at her a moment and then sighed, bowing his head abit before nodding. “You really do. You’ve got this.”

Ifthat was his way of saying he was sure she’d survive…the confidenceactually worked somewhat. Much to her annoyance, Sazh really did knowa lot and she trusted him. It was not guarantee, but at leastit was something.

“Right,”she murmured, squaring her shoulders. “I’ll be back.”

“We’llbe waiting.”

Asshe headed into the fog, Lightning could’ve sworn she heard somefootsteps echoing behind her, but she did not dare to look over hershoulder. Eyes front. If she lost her nerve now, she’d never be ableto do this again.

Timelost all meaning as she walked through the light and fog. There wasno comfort in it, but oddly enough, she had no fear, either. MaybeSazh’s confidence in her had actually worked. Maybe it was becauseshe had to survive for Serah.

Maybeit was because, according to a certain personal bodyguard, she couldbring about real change.

Shehad no idea how long she’d walked before the crystal appeared infront of her. It was shaped a bit like a diamond and reflectedrainbows into the whiteness around her. Just as she was supposed to,she hovered her hands around it and closed her eyes, bowing her headas she spoke.

“OMighty fal'cie Phoenix, I seek you so that I may govern in yourblessed name. Guide me to your knowing light so that I may humblygaze upon you.”

Shefelt stupid chanting the words, especially since she wasn’t quitesure how much she believed in them. Apparently belief didn’t matter,though, because the crystal suddenly blinded her – even though hereyes were still closed – and she had the sensation of movement. Itfelt like falling, but she was still upright. Lightning didn’t dareopen her eyes in case it broke some kind of spell. Sazh hadn’tmentioned any of this! She was definitely going to rant at himwhen she got back.

Ifshe got back.

Whenthings finally stilled, Lightning took a moment to breathe, her eyesstill closed. It was extremely unusual for her to just stand aroundand put herself in any sort of vulnerable position, but what wasn’tunusual about all of this?Surely a breather wasn’t out of line.

Therewas about ten second of silence before an unfamiliar rumbling noiseand a flash of head made her finally open her eyes. She could notcontain the gasp that ripped through her at what was before her.

“Phoenix.”

Thefal'cie was long and skinny on both ends, with smaller pieces of itsbody – was that a body? - extending from it. Whether theseparts were something otherworldly, nature, machine – she had noidea. In the middle it was round, filled with a light so bright thatshe couldn’t stare for long.

Itwas nothing like she had ever seen or imagined.

Ofcourse she had seen fal'cie before. Most everyone had. There weresmaller ones that worked in separate jurisdictions in Eden, doingvarious tasks like providing electricity or things for export. Notall of them in other kingdoms made themselves hidden, either. Theywere just a part of the landscape and a part of life thatnobody really took notice of them.

Nowshe understood why Phoenix was hidden away.

Itwas impossible not to take notice.

Lightningstepped forward unconsciously, not sure if she wanted to run towardsit or away. She felt dazed, which was not a sensation she wasa fan of, but what else could she do?

Therewas noise coming from the fal'cie, but she wasn’t sure if it wastrying to speak or if that was just how it sounded naturally. Surelysomething so massive and powerful couldn’t be completely silent.

Thesounds were like screams and whispers all at once, having thestrength to ruffle her gown and cape, but somehow not loud enough tohear. Something about it made her want to take a sword to the massivebeing in front of her, but who was she to deny the world of this?

Andthen it happened.

Phoenixcried out and a beam of light shot right towards her, too quickly toavoid. It scorched her chest, painful yet not. She could feel theswirls and intricacies of Phoenix’s brand, letting it become a partof her and she now was of it.

Blurry,hurried images flooded into her mind. Lightning vaguely recalledSerah mentioning Snow’s experience with his fal'cie, that the imagesbecame clearer with mutual understanding.

Butshe and Phoenix had no understanding. She still couldn’t tellwhether she hated it or wanted to give thanks. There was anunderlying buzz of Phoenix not knowing what to make of her, either –just that she was of the bloodline and she could ruleunscathed.

Theimages she saw were most of people she only vaguely recognized fromthe portraits in the palace – memories of her extremely distantancestors. Some were of the stars and moon, extensions of the fal'ciefrom even farther away than this. One image would come, only to beimmediately replaced by another, and she could make no real sense ofthem.

Untilthat moment.

“Hope?!”

Everythingwas still so fast, but now Lightning willed her mind to slow,anything so that she could sort out why Phoenix was showingher images of her personal bodyguard.

Shesaw Hope, handsome as ever, talking to a group of people in a glassbuilding that gleamed with perfection.

Anotherof him in a white and yellow outfit that seemed strangely familiar –but it wasn’t the garb he wore as her bodyguard.

Himtalking to a shorter woman who, again, seemed oddly familiar.

Hiseyes sliding to look at Phoenix.

Hishands working on something that could have been otherworldly, nature,or machine.

Hisgaze on her for a thousand different reasons, most worthy of asecret.

Hisshame as he ran off from her at ball.

Inthat instant, something clicked in Lightning’s mind, though her heartwas pounding and her breath was coming too fast to really sort itout. The images abruptly stopped and the brand on her chest cooled.

“Howdo you expect me to - ”

Shedidn’t get to finish her sentence before there was that sensation offalling again. Phoenix had dismissed her?! She’d survived itsjudgment, but for what?

Therewas no making sense of it. Time had no meaning.

Whenshe stopped falling, Lightning opened her eyes in a daze and emergedfrom the light, a bit surprised to see Sazh, but also -

“Hope,”she whispered, her heart pounding again. It was too much for her bodyand mind. Her knees shook and she pitched forward.

Butlike any good personal bodyguard, Hope raced to her, his eyes widewith panic as he caught her. She settled into his arms so easily –too easily.

“Light,”he said, her name hardly a gasp. His eyes darted to Phoenix’s brand,which was on the left side of her chest, impossible to miss againsther pale skin. “Light, why? Whydid you do it?”

She stared up at him, a thousandimages replaying in her mind in an instant. How could she possiblyput them together in a way that made sense?

But maybe shealready had.

Her hand reached up to shakily brushsome of his bangs from his worried face. Worried for who, shewondered?

“You’re not a bodyguard,” shemurmured.

Theneverything went black.

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pumpkinpaix · 4 years

Text

Hello! and PSA

*waves* hi everyone! so uh, I’ve kind of had a bit of a surge in followers recently, and I thought I would make a bit of a PSA/intro post with a bit more targeted info than my about page.

anyways, I’m cyan! statistically speaking, you are probably here for one of the following reasons:

my fic

my meta

my gifs

my translation

all of the above

this is pretty much an mdzs blog on main these days, but I also rb a lot of other misc things because I have never been good at keeping my interests separate. it’s also my personal blog, so expect some of that? i am very all or nothing ahaha. my opinions change very quickly as I process new information, so like, something I said last week or yesterday might be different now! I’ve seen several people going through some of my older posts, and I’m just like oh dear, I said a lot of things six months ago that I no longer vibe with. /o\ please keep that in mind as you go diving in my blog!

i don’t have a BYF or DNI policy, but I reserve the right to block anyone for any reason because this is a personal blog first and foremost, and I do need to be better about setting my boundaries and curating my own online space! on that same token, you are free to follow, unfollow, block, whatever, even if we’re mutuals. <3

you’re free to come talk to me in my inbox or dms, but please be aware that there’s a very high chance I will never get back to you /o\ it isn’t personal!! I am just very mentally ill and have many difficulties with keeping up social interactions or talking to people.

in the interest of trying to be more open about myself, my brain, and what that means for me in an online/fandom space, I’m gonna do a boatload of mental health talk under the cut (or, if you’re looking at this on my blog proper or somewhere where the cut doesn’t display, it starts right after this paragraph), including mentions of self-harm/thoughts of specific self-harm etc, just so you are warned! I’ve been thinking recently that it’s good to try and take steps towards being more open about my issues, both for my own sake and others’. It’s long, because one of the fun things about my mental illness is that I am hyperverbal ahahaha (if that... wasn’t already obvious orz)

so if you’ve read pfmmpd, you can kind of get a sense of what I’m working with. a lot of how i wrote lwj was drawn directly from shit happening in my own brain, but like? dial that up from the specific issues that lwj had in that fic and apply it unilaterally across the board to almost anything you can think of.

I hesitate to describe my OCD as debilitating, but only because my specific cocktail of compulsions and anxieties and triggers push me to be hyperachieving and hyperfunctional. I consider myself pretty fortunate (?) in that regard. on paper, you could never tell how absolutely batshit my internal landscape is! which is very good for me practically in that I can hold down a job, keep scholarships, graduate with honors, have good prospects for my future, hold onto relationships (usually yikes) etc. but the fact of the matter is, I’m like. oh boy.

to give you a peek, here’s a non-exhaustive list of things that have triggered me to varying degrees of severity within the last like, week or so:

my dog

a chinese folk song

my mother reading a chinese haiku to me written by a young gay man

a chinese reader of my fic lovingly and gently giving me a history lesson on china and on mdzs while praising me

stepping on a piece of snow that didn’t collapse in the precise way i expected it to

writing meta

reading meta

ruminating on my triggers (honestly, I played myself)

seeing a twitter thread going around tumblr with decent information but the OP is someone who was exceedingly cruel to a good friend of mine

visiting my grandmother’s grave

deciding to visit my grandmother’s grave

discussing the concept of cuddling my partner whom i love and have been with for four years

self-harming (truly the height of irony, being triggered into self-harm and then getting triggered by the result of the self-harm hahahahahaha)

dropping off a package

trying to explain queer-coding to my parents

talking about stressors in my life related to covid19

having a very pleasant conversation with a person i admire

editing my translation

the fact that the “close” button on my accessibility sidebar on the translation website is the wrong color

choosing between eating all the shiitake mushrooms in my soup and purposefully giving myself a bad reaction or throwing one out and wasting food

thinking about playing a fun game with my partner and a mutual friend

my mom asking me to take a photo of some tea for her

my mom asking my opinion on a photo she was photoshopping

animal crossing

writing this fucking post HAHAHAHA

like!! it goes on!! endlessly! obviously, these triggers are not simply “bad” things. the chinese folk song and the haiku were both really beautiful and i love them! but I did spend a good amount of time curled up on my floor in the dark sobbing as i played the song on repeat. the haiku was one of the last straws that ended up with me screaming and crying and hurting myself. the snow??? like wtf the snow thing. I stepped on the snow and it felt wrong and my brain just started screaming SMASH YOUR KNEECAP. ???? (I didn’t, for the record, and I would never.) I love my partner very much! I love my friends very much, and my mother, and my grandmother etc. my triggers are infinite, unpredictable, and bizarre.

I’m saying all of this because I want to be clear that MDZS/CQL fandom specifically triggers me on a daily basis, sometimes very very badly. this is just a fact! it is no one’s fault! I have decided it is worth it for me to stay anyways. it is impossible for me to request people tag for certain things because I myself have no idea what my triggers are until I encounter them. It’s like a fun mystery boss encounter! sometimes it’s low level and i’m well-equipped to handle it. other times it’s a one-hit KO. We just don’t know! there are lots of very cool content creators in this fandom that I can’t follow because it would make my dash that much more high stakes. the original source canon material triggers me! all the events leading up to Lotus Cove massacre? I was shaking at work for three hours after consuming it for the first time.

Meta specifically is something I know a lot of people like me for, but it’s 100% the most triggering activity I participate in for this fandom. like, that suibian meta post I wrote that’s currently going around? Probably took me four or five hours of concentrated effort to write because I was compulsively panicking and rewriting and editing and panicking more and qualifying and editing and qualifying some more and then debating whether I should post it or not and then fighting with myself about my wording and then immediately regretting it and then every time someone commented on it (regardless of positive or negative!) my anxiety spiked. I started a reply to a response on that post and had to stop after a few minutes because I was already starting to trigger myself over it.

this is actually a pretty good outcome when it comes to meta! I recognized that I was hurting myself before I got any further, and I only spent like, five hours on it! it was good exposure therapy for me! the bad outcome is. well. bad, as you might imagine lmao.

I like writing meta. I like talking to people about it too! I like participating in fandom, I like writing, I like translating, I like all of these things. they’re just also really hard for me! there’s a couple meta requests sitting in my inbox right now that I want to get to, but it might take me like. a long time because of. you know! *gestures* Everything takes me a long time. that first chapter of the translation took me literally five months from beginning the project to posting a final edited version. It’s just over 1k words. D8

I try really hard to be chill and kind in public and I largely think I succeed on the kind part (I hope!). If you thought I had even an ounce of chill before this, perhaps I have disabused of that notion entirely now lmao. I’m not saying this for pity, but like? just so we all know what we’re dealing with here. I don’t want anyone to get hurt when I don’t engage with them or feel snubbed if I never reply to them. and also like, hey, if someone relates it’s like hooray, high fave, solidarity! we’re not alone in this world! or maybe this will help someone understand OCD a little better! I don’t know. I hope this post is a positive thing. BUT! I’ve spent three hours on it already, and i’m definitely starting to compulsively spiral, so instead of going back and editing it over and over, I’m just going to post it. thank you everyone for your understanding! I hope you enjoy your time on my blog! (*´▽`*)

#/#//#///#////#/////#personal #psa #cyan gets too deep in the weeds #HA HA HA.#can't believe i'm using that tag on a personal post except like. of course i am #hello everyone are you ready for some cyan dlc?#well you're getting it #im anxious about this thing because i'm anxious about everything but!#we are doing exposure therapy this year!!#even if the world is burning down around us i can still try to confront my problems!!!#about

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heathered-beinn · 3 years

Text

BTS American Hustle Life Ep4

Ep 3 recap: BTS are in LA to learn about hip hop. During that episode they met their dance teacher, Jenny Kita. She set them a few challenges including a solo demonstration, a dance battle against professional dancers, and the task of choreographing a dance routine in small groups. J-Hope’s dance skills shone the brightest throughout which was both a surprise and a delight! Jin, despite being the least proficient dancer in the band, tried really hard and it paid off in the final challenge – he and J-Hope were deserving winners.

We also started to see the friendships between the band members more, which was quite lovely. I really hope this continues in the series.

On to Episode 4!

Holy cow, that dorm is an absolute pigsty. Ewwww! The amount of water bottles alone makes me want to cry.

Lol, I wonder how RM and Jimin ended up having to clean the dorm up?

They did a good job with it though and somehow managed to find some fun in between. The bathroom scene was hilarious!

Like last episode Jimin appears to have dropped some of his mask. Maybe I’m just seeing things but in this ep he just seems a little softer around the edges - more playful rather than loud and over-the-top. I think RM is good company for him. I’m not sure how to word it without accidentally making it look like I think the other lads treat him poorly (which I don’t believe they do!!) but I think RM is quite respectful to Jimin? As the leader RM’s attention will be pulled in many directions and when he can give spare undivided attention he probably spends it more on his elder bandmates as they are closer to his own age. However, I get the sense that when he does focus on Jimin he does it with the kind of patience and gentleness that the others are maybe not quite so liberal with? That’s not to say he won’t tease Jimin or joke around with him (he does) but so far it comes across as a little warmer than the others perhaps because he’s naturally gentler in nature? I’m probably talking out my **** here but that’s just what I’ve sensed.

One final thing: Jimin’s English is really improving!

So while Jimin and RM are cleaning the dorm, Suga, V, and Jungkook are on laundry duty. LMAO how is that fair? I was thinking that the “chores” were punishment for losing the challenge in Ep3 but Jimin and RM were so close to winning and yet seem to have been given the worst chore?

LOL, how can those three lads make laundry seem so complicated??

They really are big kids – I’m glad they can find ways to have fun though. But ewwwwwwwwww Jungkook, the 3/5/7/10 second rule is a myth, don’t eat things off the ground – particularly in a foreign country!!

Woah!!! they licked each other’s ice creams without hesitation!

To be honest I think it is more of a reflection on my own culture rather than theirs that this seemed so surprising to me. Generally sharing food without the ‘ew that’s got your spit on’ and other hang-ups – particularly between boys - ends around 8-10 years old here.

Jungkook sweetie, I really doubt you’ve put on much weight – are you sure you haven’t just grown another few inches? It certainly looks like you’ve grown. At this point you might end up towering over Suga and Jimin.

Ah so Jin and J-Hope are food shopping. So maybe these chores are not punishments for losing the challenge. I’d still like to know how Jimin and RM got the short straw to clean the dorm lol.

Oh good grief, BTS cooking – after their challenge in the first series I dread to think what poor concoction they’re going to come up with.

OK so J-Hope’s cheese sticks verdict… V = X, RM = XX, Jimin (so cute as he bounded over like an excited puppy) = too polite to use his new English word “disgusting”

Jin’s ham on toast concoction: LMAO at Jin blowing on the forkful before feeding Jimin. No comment on Jimin’s tongue action though…

It seemed to taste okay judging by Jimin’s reaction. RM does not agree lol. It was cute how Jin was feeding the rest of the toast to Jimin and Jungkook like a parent feeding infants.

After what I wrote earlier about RM it’s nice to see the other lads interacting with Jimin more. I wonder if some of the impatience that occasionally comes across is simply down to the editing?

So we move on to a new day and the whole group are heading to Long Beach by foot. Crikey, Jungkook looks like he’s grown another inch over night!! Why on earth is he wearing two layers in the LA heat???!!

It’s great to see that BTS are still ‘star struck’ by celebrities. I guess, back then, the band were not that well known – at least not like they are now. They certainly did not cross my radar – not like 1D did.

LMAO – V randomly saying he drooled when he saw Warren G. What?????!!!!

Warren G seems a great guy; very chill and calm with the band. *Again I’m going to say it but I love how BTS have the confidence to say another man looks handsome like they did when admiring the photo in the record store*

Yeah Warren G is a really decent guy.

There’s something fundamentally poetic in the way that Jimin said of Warren G, Snoop Dogg, Nate, (in a tone of amazement and disbelief) “They were just elementary kids but became legends”. I mean, BTS were once ‘elementary school’ kids and while, in that moment, Jimin did not know how big the band would get, the same sentiment applies to BTS.

So their new challenge is to write lyrics based on their own lives to Regulate.

Good boys; slapping on the sunscreen – thumbs up for skin care!

Oh good grief Jin, if the American dorm is slowly becoming like your Korean dorm then I shudder to think what state your Korean dorm is in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oooh so the band are opening up a little about their lives in order to make lyrics for their rap.

After a bit of travelling by bus and making friends with the locals, Jin and J-Hope settle down in a park to talk. We learn Jin started off acting and not singing? Now that’s interesting! Not all of BTS had joining a band or even BTS’ music style in mind from the beginning. Jin also has a brother and he was into hip hop so Jin had some knowledge of it before joining the band.

J-Hope’s turn and he admitted when he first joined the band everyone was a rapper and he was the only dancer which made him feel remote.

This, again, is really interesting to learn as this was the scenario I was pinning on Jimin – unless there were different BTS members back when J-Hope joined? I really don’t know how the band was formed so I hope at some point they talk about this. I liked how Jin admitted he was surprised to hear about J-Hope feelings. They should talk like that more often.

RM and Jimin travel to another part of town – near the school/college that some of the most famous rappers in the music industry attended. I really like the motto of the building “Enter to learn go forth to serve”. I’m not American so I don’t know it’s true connotations but to me it’s simple and strangely compelling. Like; ‘We don’t care who you are either come in and learn and repay by using it to serve the community - or travel forth on down the street and sign up for the army and serve that way. There’s a purpose for everyone.”

RM and Jimin talking <3

Jimin’s answer to what he found difficult when he joined the band is fascinating. While the translation felt a little off, it reads as he cares a lot about what others think of him and doesn’t want to let anyone down or let any of his (self-perceived) shortcomings hold others back. In order to achieve this he spent a lot of time trying to catch up or improve so that no one could easily spot his weaknesses. Ultimately, he wants to care less what others think of him so he can lose some of the pressure? I really think there is a lot more to this “want to care less about what others think” than the vague answer he gave (or was edited in). His starting phrase “I should live quietly for the sake of my team” was quite a loaded sentiment and didn’t quite follow what he said next – definitely some careful editing there.

RM’s sentiment echoes this. He talked about seeing a very over-weight man walking around LA topless and admired the man’s confidence to not care what other people thought. RM wants some of that confidence to stop constantly watching out for what others thought about him. This is the type of pressure many celebrities talk about a lot. In my opinion, any one remotely “famous” are seen as role models (rightly or wrongly) and society holds them to ridiculous standards. Make one mistake and that’s you cancelled like you are some item in a shop that can be returned for a refund. I personally think people have a very skewed idea about what makes a ‘role model’. For me, a role model shouldn’t be perfect but when they do make mistakes they should own up to it, apologise, and attempt to fix or make up for any hurt caused. We, as their fans, need to relearn how to accept an apology, forgive human errors, allow people to learn, and move on. Min rant over.

Moving on: Suga, V, and Jungkook are down near the beach front discussing their lyrics. The way V instantly thought of his Dad tells me he’s quite family orientated. It was touching the way he said he made him the person he was today.

Jungkook’s thoughts where based more on his internal thoughts of himself as a person and a musician. It was very honest of him to admit that back home he’d been pretty confident of his talent but once he joined (BigHit?) he quickly realised there was a lot of people with as much, if not more, talent than him and it knocked his confidence. I wish Suga had spoke more about his own thoughts rather than just write the lyrics.

Challenge Day:

To be fair, all three groups rose to the challenge and not only had some great lyrics but sounded polished and rehearsed. We only got snippets of the songs but from what we did hear I would struggle to pick a winner. I guess, for me, it would feel like picking one’s persons’ struggles over another’s. Hard to judge.

Lol at Suga oversharing about being in the toilet when he was writing *crying with laughter face*

Awww, Suga, V, and Jungkook won. They definitely tried harder with this challenge than the one in ep 3 so I felt it was deserved.

Final musings:

Another interesting episode. I think the band learned a lot more about hip hop this episode and Warren G was a real gent. We also learned more about each band member in terms of their thoughts and experiences when joining the band. We (I) also learned more about their personalities which hadn’t been so clear in previous eps and series. I think the editing can misconstrue some moments so I’m probably going to re-evaluate my musings on each band member from time to time – this is a good thing though!

Looking forward to ep 5!

#bts #American hustle life #heathered beinn musings #suga #jin #rapmonster #j-hope #jimin #v #jungkook

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ermuellert · 4 years

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what are your honest opinions on julian draxler's career?

personally i thought he was genuinely going to be a big star because he was this young wonderkid at schalke who won the world cup as a 20 year old (he didn't do much though to be fair) but it never really turned out that way ... he's not done terribly per se, he is playing for psg, living that sweet life en france, and somehow still getting callups to the german national team but i am just kind of sad that he never reached the full potential that he had ... i thought he would be the captain of the "new" germany generation, one of the leaders, but now he barely gets to play ... i am kind of extra worked up about his case because he seems like a nice and sweet person as well ... anyways maybe i just have a bad track record of predicting career trajectories, all the youngsters i thought would succeed haven't (yet), at one point i believed that julian weigl and max meyer would also be world beaters and here we are ... i don't know what it is, probably a mix of injuries, bad luck, and maybe just not working hard enough ... long long sigh

anyways if you read all that you're an absolute superstar because i really went and wrote an essay oops ... i look forward to your live blogging tomorrow as it is always entertaining ... lots of love xxx

i hope u know that deep down.... like. Deep Down... i am always always always craving to talk about julian...... like trust me... i promise essays on monsieur draxler are always welcome here because i used to write that much about him and sometimes still think that much about him too...

objectively speaking, i think he is doing alright! pretty good by a lot of standards probably, for most of the reasons u listed. he’s getting paid obscene amounts (probably more than he deserves at this moment in time), has a seemingly great personal life, and as u said, still getting his national team callups.

my personal thoughts, on the other hand, are... well....... not really of the same sentiment. i already know i’m gonna write up an even longer essay so let me just tuck the rest of this ramble under a cut for the sake of my followers lmao

honestly for me... thinking about julian is kind of depressing. if you feel worked up about him, just know that i relate. he seems very happy where he is in his life at the moment and so of course i’m happy for him too but compared to the potential it seemed he had... it’s just a bit sad. mostly because it isn’t as though he’s an excellent player hindered by injuries (e.g. reus) or anything really beyond his control - i think a lot of what’s so disappointing about his career trajectory is really just to do with him and him only.

yes, his failed transfer to juve back when he was at schalke wasn’t his fault but to move to wolfsburg? i know hindsight is 20/20 but i almost wish he’d just stayed at schalke. the drama he got into while he was at wolfsburg really did not do any good for his image, putting aside the fact that he was putting in average (even inconsistent) performances for the team. at schalke, maybe he could’ve had more time to develop within a team he grew up in and just use his time there to work and work hard. (there’s something i want to say about mentality here but i’ll bring that up later)

then, when his transfer to psg was announced, i felt like that was some beacon of hope although honestly, i think anything compared to wolfsburg could’ve looked that way to me at the time lmao keeping up with that club just for him (and partly andré schürrle) was fucking painful my god

at psg he was off to a decent start and things were starting to look up! wasn’t starting every single match but he was playing fairly well and made quick friends with his new teammates (u know who lol) etc. but then of course any sort of rhythm/momentum he gained was totally thrown off by mbappé’s and neymar’s arrivals which i think were both only around half a year after his transfer.

and so basically since then, he’s been “competing” for a spot with ney, kylian, and di maría.

(ok reading that back i realize that whole recap of his career was not really necessary or at least. making it as lengthy as i did wasn’t but. i’m too lazy to go back and reword everything so bear with me lmao)

taking all that into account, i think yes, to some extent, he has some excuse for the stagnation of his career. he’s had his injuries and he’s been played out of position for large portions of time.

but i think what really frustrates me about him is that as a fan who’s loved him for years it’s really sad to see that what’s holding him back is not necessarily a lack of ability but just that he doesn’t have the sort of drive i wish he did. it’s been on display in his performances before - he can be lazy and invisible - but i think what’s worse is how that translates off the pitch. he’s just never really seemed to fight for a spot in the starting eleven. and if the rumors are true (as they do seem so) the parisian nightlife has not been doing him very good lmao

not only that though but i think he just doesn’t care as much about football as he does about ... image? money? i don’t know. i don’t know what the word i’m looking for is. i don’t think julian is a superficial sort of person and i’m not saying ambition is a bad thing at all, but when he couldn’t go from schalke to juventus (and that failed transfer was riding, presumably, a lot on his wonderboy status at schalke), he followed the money to wolfsburg. put in performances that understandably received criticism at wolfsburg, then very publicly made a whole thing out of wanting to leave and not being able to. then followed the money to psg where he just ... vibes on the bench. well, at least up until this season. but even then, if it weren’t for all the covid cases and red cards, i don’t know if he would be playing as much as he has.

so tl;dr: i love julian a lot still and he’s still the same sweet dorky fuckboi-ish guy i’ve been a fan of since the start and i’m happy that he’s happy! the tragic irony is that what makes him happy - collecting checks while being a bench player - is also what depresses me quite a bit about him. he has his flashes of brilliance every once in a while where you can see that 17-year-old schalke wonderboy in him, so you know that hype from long ago wasn’t all a waste and that somewhere in there is a very talented, perhaps starworthy footballer. but he isn’t. not because he can’t but because he doesn’t really care to. and not in a dismissive sense i don’t think. i don’t think he thinks “ah who cares about being the best player in the world fuck that” but moreso in the sense of “ah i think i’m doing alright! that’s good enough for me.” and that sort of mentality is what places him (or at least, contributes to his position being) a tier below his peers who have proven themselves (e.g. kimmich, although that also brings up the whole “can that sort of fighter/die-on-the-pitch type mentality be taught or must it be inherent” kind of thing so let’s move on before i write an essay within this essay) at the end of the day i know not every footballer is in this sport simply for the sake of playing it, but from time to time thinking about him fills me with a lot of nostalgia and yes a tinge of disappointment because i can’t help but think of what could’ve been (i.e. what would’ve happened if he’d stayed at schalke? stayed there for good or stayed for a season or two more, developed even more hype, strengthened his abilities. had a successful transfer to a good, solid club and continued to hone his abilities, etc).

ok. now i’m done. i’m so sorry for putting u through all that and skimming this back i sound SO dramatic lmao but man i’ve been through like six-ish years of following his career so fuck it oh well

also if u wanna know how much i still care, know that after the “draxler to leeds united” rumors first dropped, i wrestled with my impulse control every single day for a week trying to stop myself from dming him on insta saying “i love you but get ur ass to leeds or i will kidnap u and get u there myself your football career is killing me but i love you and just want the best for u have a nice day xx”

#answered #thank u for this ask you're really sweet anon omg 😭#again i am surprised anybody cares about my opinions enough to ask me this... or to even talk about my liveblogging lmao...#even if it's just one anon i'm like !!!!!!!#anyway. i actually have more and more thoughts about julian but i literally wrote SEVERAL paragraphs and that man has disrespected me for t #so i'm not giving him any more of my time and energy tonight #although yes my brain is replaying his match against slovakia in the euros #and his goals against gent in the ucl back when he was with wolfsburg #and how he was the captain for the nt in the confederations cup which we won!!!#but ANYWAY #as for weigl and meyer... :(#haven't kept up much with weigl but sad about him too #as for max..... i was hopeful for him too #but i think he just got too big for his britches #which is again. another disappointing thing because look where he's at now #i just wish players understood the importance and the benefits of BEING PATIENT...#i think they just sort of give in to the hype about themselves #which is understandable but god i swear its a poison to careers #julian draxler #babe jules #anonymous #shit ava says

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