#what is queued endures

[captain-sassy-socks]

#TFLN #Stargate SG-1 #Samantha Carter #what is queued endures

[quitedisastrous]

gonna put milkwail in people clothes tomorrow since i think it's incredibly amusing to do that with normal feral characters. what do you guys think she would wear

#aside from a leopard print overcoat since every character loosely based off of my personality gets one #(can you tell i love my leopard print overcoat) #queued requests #milkwail #mommyclan #realizing i never shut up about milkwail. sorry (realistic milkwail gaze) (i am lying i am not sorry. you are forced to endure) #anyways what kind of people clothes dyou recommend she would wear. the more niche and ungodly the better. i love absurdist humor

[thevalicemultiverse]

Hatter: What day is it?

Hare: Thursday.

Hatter: Really? Feels like Tuesday.

Hare: Tuesday has no feel. Monday has a feel. Friday has a feel. Sunday has a feel.

Hatter: I feel Tuesday and Wednesday.

Gryphon: Alright, shut up, the both of you.

Emily: [observing this from another section of the tea table] And for me, no day of the week has a feel at all because you do rather lose track of time when you're dead. [pause] And honestly, I haven't really been keeping track of it in Wonderland either.

Alice: They haven't either -- it's actually Friday.

#~M: I want some questions! now! (ask) #~M: grin without a cat (anon) #~V: Technicolor Phase #what day is it in Wonderland #~C: Emily Cartwell #~C: Alice Liddell #((poor Gryphon having to endure this nonsense XD #and I couldn't resist having Alice say it was Friday #because while this may have come in on a Thursday anon #it was as you can see queued for a Friday XD)) #~M: with this hand I will lift your queue

[whateveriwant]

Happy Sunday! Whatever you do, definitely don't imagine Simon stuck in a time loop, forced to relive the worst day of his life over and over again 😀

The worst day of Simon's life? you might wonder. What would that be? Good question!

How about the day that Simon, at the tender age of four, came face-to-face with the boogeyman himself? His mother had warned him of the ghoulish entity, the one who lurked in shadows, inflicting pain on those who would seek to misbehave. What she didn't tell him, and what Simon would discover for himself that night as he awoke to the sounds of screaming, was that the boogeyman was no mere specter. She didn't tell him how he punished indiscriminately, uncaring if you were a woman or child. She didn't tell him how he wielded his fist like a hammer, his breath stinking of booze and cigarettes. And she didn't tell him (because how could a mother begin to explain to her young son?) that the boogeyman would wear the face of his own father.

Or how about the day that Simon realized he made the biggest mistake of his life? When he first joined the army, he had lofty ideas of honor and glory; action and duty; responsibility and yes, if it came to it, even sacrifice. Call him naive, but what else could you expect of a boy who's been fed nothing but a trough of propaganda his whole life? Simon surely didn't realize, not as he signed his soul over for a pair of dog tags. He didn't realize, not as he queued up with other lost boys for his chance to play soldier. He didn't realize even as he was shipped out with less than two months of basic training under his belt. No, Simon didn't realize until it was already too late, until it was staring at him across the blood-soaked trench with glossy, unblinking eyes. It was only then, looking into what remained of the face of a friend, that Simon realized there is decidedly very little that is ‘dolce et decorum’ about dying in war.

Or there's the day Simon discovered hell exists right here on Earth, and it's ruled over by a devil called Roba. Simon had thought that living a life already full of pain and horror would have thickened his skin like the rings of a tree, making an impenetrable armor even a mortar couldn't dent. But all it took was the careful orchestration of one wicked man to prove that even the toughest of trees can be felled. Day in and day out, he endured a steady stream of beatings, tortures, and assaults. Day in and day out, he was forced to the brink of his sanity, tipping over it once or twice. Day in and day out, the once unbreakable soldier entered a new circle of hell, and as he descended, finding each pit worse than the last, he wondered if he would ever make it out alive.

Or there's the any number of days (and there are a dreadful many) that Simon lost the only things in his life that ever truly mattered to him. The day he came home, the taste of betrayal acrid on his tongue, to find four mangled corpses had replaced the people he called family. The day he failed, the target vanishing like smoke from a gun barrel, his hands wet with the blood of the sergeant he had come to consider a brother. The day he never saw coming, the day that smashed what was left of his heart into pieces, the day he lost the best thing to ever happen to his miserable excuse of a life; the day he lost you.

It was years later, long after he'd hung up his masks and tags, that they came for you in the dead of night. Payback, they'd said, for something he'd done when he was still in the service. Though you had no affiliation with that period of his life, they knew that by taking you – by hurting you – it was the perfect eye for an eye. All Simon could do as they bound and beat you was watch from across the room, his own chains rattling desperately. He watched as your fingers bent at odd angles, your clothes adhered to your skin with blood, the bones in your face shattered and swelled until you were unrecognizable. You were strong – stronger than Simon ever wanted you to have to be – but that didn't stop his heart from breaking with every abuse your body received. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, he tried to get through to you, even as the sickening crack of your femur threatened to drown him out.

It was hours (it felt more like decades) that you were both dragged through this misery. Simon watched the whole time, hot tears obscuring his vision, his voice keeping you awake between the syringes of adrenaline pumped into you. But eventually there came a point in which you slumped, a sort of finality to the way your limbs sagged, and Simon couldn't help how his own heart stopped pumping. The room was loud in his ears, louder than it had ever been thus far, and yet, not a single sound was made. He shook his chains to rouse you. Get up, he ordered. Get up, my love. Get up! he begged, screamed until his vocal chords shred. His pleas were met by only silence, a slowing trickle of blood leaking from your mouth, and when the ones that did this to you declared that revenge was now claimed, Simon knew the last thread that wove any sort of meaning into his life had finally been cut.

Any one of these days could be a contender for the worst day of Simon's life, an eternity of torment looped within a 24 hour cycle. And no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries to change things, it's never enough. He is never enough.

#so definitely don't imagine that! #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley angst #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2

[xeriprincess]

Spark - Kim Hongjoong

━━✫・*。in which you run into Hongjoong before your first Ateez concert

pairing : idol!hongjoong x atiny!reader

genre : comedy, fluff, just vibes

warnings : smoking

word count: 1,3K

A/N: 100% delulu hours. we don’t talk about it. can you tell who my bias is. hj has black hair in this because its my story and i make the rules

You were queueing up for your very first Ateez concert, which you were super excited about. So excited you couldn't really process it. Only about two hours remained until the venue opened its doors, and you had decided to go for a stroll around the arena to get yourself warmed up. Cold wind and remnants of white snow made standing in line for hours feel like a test of endurance. Checking the time to make sure you were good, you informed your friends of your plans and took off.

The long queues stretching all around the arena never failed to amuse you. The way fans from all around the world showed up at ungodly hours just to stand a chance at getting close to the stage. You were no different though, so it’s not like you could judge.

The walking was starting to return feeling to your toes, which was a god-send, and you picked up your pace to warm up the rest of your body.

Sun was shining, ateez songs were playing, the vibes were great.

In honor of this beautiful day, you decided to allow yourself a celebratory cigarette. You only smoked on special occasions, and today was honestly as special as it was gonna get. You thought it wise to wait until you made it behind the arena, where no queuing was going on, so you could damage your lungs in private.

Slowly distancing yourself from the front, you noticed large trucks stacked with stage equipment parked behind the venue. Just where you were hoping to have your smoke break. You looked around for any signs of the area being off-limits, or any staff running around, and after not seeing any indication of trouble you happily strolled towards the row of trucks. You figured standing in between them would cover you nicely, and the sun was hitting the area perfectly.

Even before settling down, you whipped up your shiny pack, eagerly sticking a cigarette between your teeth. Rummaging your pockets for a lighter, you caught a glimpse of a figure out the corner of your eye. No biggie, this was a nice spot after all. You couldn’t have been the only one to clock it. Coat coming up empty, you stuck your hands down your back-pockets in search of a spark, mumbling profanities under your breath.

Without even having to look up, a sudden awkwardness weighed in the air, as you felt a pair of eyes burning themselves into your face. You mentally prepared to nonverbally tell whoever it was to fuck off, the absence of your favorite lighter having wound you up. But, when you looked up, what you found was probably the thing you expected least in the world.

The pair of eyes boring themselves into you were attached to Hongjoong, who was stood like a deer in headlights. With his back against the wall, he held a half-finished cigarette gingerly between his fingers. He seemed completely terrified to be seen by you, but the experience was so bizarre that your brain couldn’t process it at all. So you broke off the eye-contact and continued searching your pockets, determined to have that damn cigarette. Though you didn’t react outwardly, your thoughts were doing all the work.

I’m tripping so hard right now. There is just no way Hongjoong is having a cig right before his own concert.

Frustration grew as you double, triple, and quadruple checked every pocket on your person, coming up empty every time. Letting out an exasperated breath, you mentally prepared to return to the queue with no nicotine, before your head snapped towards the unexpected voice sounding from your right.

“Need a spark?”

The man beside you found your eyes once again, a sheepish smile now painting his features instead of the frightened grimace from before. His fingers were decorated with fancy rings as he held a stupidly boujee lighter up to your face, which made for quite a peculiar sight.

You didn’t trust yourself to say anything, so you silently leaned into the tiny fire with a cigarette pressed between your lips. Hastily inhaling, you savored the first drag you’d had in a very long time.

“Thanks man,” you said with an exhale, finally trusting yourself enough to break the brief silence. “Lifesaver.”

Hongjoong’s attention remained on you as he put his lighter away, eyes tinted with amusement. There was no doubt he realized you were an atiny- an ateez logo painted onto your jacket by yours truly- yet the fact seemed to freak him out a lot less than before.

“Why are you smoking all by yourself?” you ask, not wanting the conversation to die out. Your heart might be pounding it's way to freedom, but you’d be damned if you let this experience go to waste. Some stars must have aligned up there for this moment, so you were gonna put those stars to work.

“I’m not by myself,” he said, taking a drag of his dying smoke and turning to face the sunlight. “I’m with you.”

Reality finally dawned on you in that very moment, as you dared to stare at the man in front of you. From where you were standing, his side profile was on full display, afternoon sun painting his face golden. Eyes closed, lashes brushing his cheeks, lips curled slightly up at the corners, he looked like an angel sent to ruin your life.

“Damn, I see how it is,” you said, snapping Hongjoong out of his meditation and bringing his attention back to you. “What happened to ‘hello, my name is’,” you continued teasingly, hoping to at least get a tiny chuckle out of him. Hongjoong smirked, that amused sparkle never leaving his eyes.

“My deepest apologies," he said, voice tinted with sarcasm.

"Hello, my name is Hongjoong,” he went on, challenging you with his gaze. You both knew damn well that there was no need for an introduction on his part. “What’s yours?” he asked, taking one last drag of his cigarette before it burnt out.

“You come here often, Hongjoong?” you teased before adding, “I don’t think I’d miss a handsome guy like you.” Hongjoong openly laughed at your words, eyes turning up into crescents.

“It’s my first time actually,” he replied, sparkles dancing in his eyes. “Now please tell me your name.” Feeling satisfied with his reaction, you threw your cigarette bud to the ground before replying,

“It’s y/n.”

Hongjoong turned his face towards the sun again, closing his eyes, and you felt like he was doing it to taunt you.

“y/n?” he asked, leaning back against the wall.

“Yup,” you confirmed, lighting up at the sound of your name leaving his lips. “Can you say it again?” you asked, leaning back and closing your eyes for the sun just like he did.

“y/n,” he repeated, slightly confused.

“One more time.”

“Am I saying it wrong or something,” he asked, turning to face you with a puzzled expression. You cracked one eye open, taking him in. Black hair slicked back messily, a few loose strands swaying in the gentle breeze, confused face illuminated by golden sunlight. You selfishly wondered if you were the first to ever see him like this.

“Nah, just liked hearing you say it,” you chuckled, carefully looking to see his reaction. His eyes widened slightly, before he let out a defeated sigh and returned to his previous position.

“You’re good,” he replied, words tinged with a chuckle.

“I know,” you replied cheekily.

The two of you stood there, enjoying the silence for a few more moments, before you were reminded of the friends you had to get back to. They probably thought you died.

Reluctantly pushing yourself off the wall, you felt a bit dazed from your short sunbath (and the nicotine). Sensing your movement, Hongjoong opened his eyes to look at you.

“This was fun,” you started, squinting a little as you faced him, “but I have a concert to get to.”

Hongjoong’s face turned up into a smirk, eyes dropping down to the ground as he adjusted his stance.

“Come smoke again after?” he asked, looking back up at you with that damn smirk.

Even if you tried, your friends would never believe you.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez drabble #ateez fanfic #hongjoong #ateez one shot #hongjoong x reader #joong

[terrifyingly-bi]

Fool for You (Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader) (Part 1)

Summary: You've never been one to be pushed around. When you work at Hawkin's Public Pool during summer break you're paired up with Billy for your shifts, and Billy just met his match.

Warnings/tags: flirty reader, confident reader, billy starts out as rough and tough but I've got a thing for softies so... we'll get there

Wordcount: ~2,2k

A/N: You wanted some Billy x Fem!Reader and I once again got carried away. Idk how many parts this will be... I'm sitting on about four or five... uh... :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

『••✎••』

“And this is where you’ll be spending most of your time,” Adam said, gesturing to the small booth. “We’ve got at least two lifeguards out by the pools at all times, if one of them needs to step away, you will take over for them until they return. Otherwise, this is your hub.”

You nodded as you took a look around the tiny room. It reminded you of a ticket booth but pool-themed. On the only wall available hung a calendar with pictures of the beach, as well as a schedule for the lifeguards. There were seven in total, including you.

“Cool,” you said. “And do I need to keep my eyes out for anything in particular or…”

Adam shrugged. “Not really. You’ll be standing by most of the time. If any visitors have any questions or need equipment, directions, or help you’ll be in charge of taking care of them.” He pointed to the notepad on the tiny desk. “Any pool equipment or swimming aids you lend out must be recorded, so that we can keep track of them when they’re lent out and returned.”

“Write up the things I hand out and what I get back, got it,” you said. “Anything else?”

“First Aid Kit is in the box under the desk and there’s a phone in the office with a phonebook right next to it. Other than that, you should be all set.”

You doubted that, but you weren’t about to start fussing on your first day. “So do I just… go change or what?”

Adam turned and pointed over to the changing rooms. “You can just use the women’s to change. Head back here once you’re done and I’ll introduce you to your shift mate.”

With a nod, you began making your way around the pool to go and change. The brilliantly red swimsuit you’d been given to wear bore the Hawkins Pool logo, and you wondered if you’d look as good in it as some of the lifeguards you’d seen so far. 

The changing room was mostly empty with the exception of a handful of girls gossiping and queuing for the mirror and a mother trying to wrestle her kid into a swimsuit. It smelled like chlorine, soap and sun lotion, and by the time you had squeezed into your new suit and made to leave you were alone.

You hesitated briefly when you passed the mirror. The Hawkins Pool suit fitted decently. It could have been a little bigger in the bottom area but you were confident enough that you would endure it. From the right angle, it even looked good.

When you returned to the booth, Adam had called another lifeguard over. 

“You’re back, good,” Adam said. “This is Billy, and you already know me. Billy, this is Y/N.” 

‘Billy’ was tall, muscular, and looked like a Californian dream. He stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest and looked you up and down, wearing a pair of dark aviators and a somewhat disdainful look on his face. “Yes, we’re happy to have you here,” he mumbled. “But unless there’s anything you specifically need me for, I’ve got things to do.”

You shook your head. “You do what you need to do,” you said. “You’re a lifeguard after all.”

The sneer on his face turned neutral and he gave you a quick nod before he turned and headed back to the tower, climbing up and taking a seat.

“He takes his job very seriously,” Adam said, leaning closer to you. “Don’t let him push you around. He is not your boss.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you said. “I’m not going to let him.”

-

It didn’t take you long to learn that whenever Billy was at the pool, things were running like a well-oiled machine. It was mind-boggling to see how kids you knew from school turned into law-abiding visitors the moment Billy told them off, and it was difficult to miss the way people were particularly wary when they walked in his vicinity. 

If you had to pick something to complain about it would be the number of girls coming up to you only to try and get a peek at the schedule on the wall behind you. Billy was popular with the ladies, and it was hardly a secret. Even the mothers put on a show for him whenever he looked their way.

You didn’t see the point. Obviously, he was handsome and you caught yourself looking longer than a few seconds a handful of times, but he was rude and never said hello when he passed you by. It wasn’t like you were going to waste your time on someone that couldn’t bother to say hi.

At least, that’s what you thought until a particularly unrelenting heatwave passed through Hawkins. The pool was filled to the brim with people trying to cool off and you spent a considerable amount of time handing out water bottles and helping out a few people that had burned themselves in the sun.

But while you spent most of the day in the shade of the tiny booth, you couldn’t help but notice that Billy sat dutifully perched in the lifeguard tower, glaring out over the pool and the visitors - on the lookout for trouble. 

With a sigh, you grabbed one of the water bottles you kept in the cooler crammed under the desk, and headed over. “Hey, Hargrove,” you called when you approached.

He looked over at you just in time to catch the bottle when you tossed it to him. “What’s up?” He asked.

“You haven’t had anything to drink all day,” you said. “I would prefer it if you didn’t fall off that tower when something happens.”

Billy looked at you for a moment before he looked back to the pool. “Thanks,” he said, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink of water. You could tell by the way he went through half the bottle in a few greedy sips that he must have been thirsty.

“You gonna take a break any time soon?” You asked. “Maybe get out of the sun?”

“To slack off? Is that what you’re trying to get me to do?” he asked without looking at you.

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m trying to make sure you don’t get a heatstroke so you can keep doing your job.”

Again, Billy turned and looked at you. For a moment, he seemed to be contemplating your words. “Five minutes,” he said. “I need to take a leak anyway.” He tossed the bottle back to you as he began climbing down from the tower. “You figure you can hold the reins until I get back?”

“Don’t worry about me, Billy,” you said and handed him his drink. “I can hold them just fine.” You turned and climbed up into the tower, seating yourself in the surprisingly comfortable seat. When you looked down, Billy was still looking at you. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

“I just might,” he said, a lazy smirk playing on his lips before he turned and walked away.

-

"Got ourselves a cut." 

You looked up from the notepad as Billy appeared in the doorway, holding a girl in his arms. Looking between them, it was almost comical how indifferent Billy looked while the girl was making heart eyes at him. But upon closer inspection, she did have a pretty nasty cut on her foot. 

"Damn, let me get the kit," you said and got up. "She can take my chair."

Billy put the girl down on the chair with minimal effort. "What did you say you cut yourself on?" he asked. 

"I'm not sure. I stepped on something sharp over by the fence, I was just grabbing my bag," she said. She blinked at him, her lashes fluttering as he inspected her injury. 

"Over by the fence?" Billy asked. He either didn’t notice or care for her ogling. Instead, he looked over at you. "Hey, Y/N. Can you treat this while I go and have a look?" he asked. 

You could tell that anyone but Billy treating the girl's cut would ruin her day. The way she deflated made you feel bad for her. "Uh… why don't you help her out and I go and take a look? I need to double-check on the back gates anyway," you offered. It was technically true, only that you usually did that at the end of your shift. "I need to go and get another pack of gauze from the office as well, but we should have enough for now." 

Billy looked skeptical as you handed the First Aid kit to him. "You sure?" 

"Yeah. Put those pretty hands to use and I'll be right back," you said and winked as you slipped out of the booth, leaving him with the eager visitor. 

It was almost the weekend and you figured you could give that girl something to swoon about. It was a surefire way to keep the girl - and all of her friends - coming back. 

The area by the fence was mostly covered with dry grass. Some people preferred to leave their things there or spread a towel out where they could enjoy the sunshine. You started by the concrete and followed the fence around the perimeter, and just like the girl had said, you found the culprit of the cut; a piece of aluminum from a soda can. After looking around you found the rest of the cam and discarded it in the nearest trash can. 

You took your time as you went back, stopping to help a kid that struggled with a pair of goggles, and walking a full lap around the pool before you went about your other tasks.

By the time you returned to the booth - after having made a quick trip to the office for supplies - Billy had sent the girl on her way and returned to his spot atop the tower. You gave a slight wave as he looked your way, making sure he knew that you were back where you were supposed to be. 

He nodded at you from where he sat before he returned to his lifeguarding duties. 

The rest of the day was dull and uneventful. At the end of your shift, you counted the swimming aids, checked the lost and found, and walked around the pool to make sure everything was in order before you went to change. 

You were usually one of the last people out of there - with the exception of the pool manager and sometimes Adam - but when you exited the changing room that night, you spotted Billy on his way out to the parking lot. He looked your way when you adjusted your bag on your shoulder. 

"Heading home?" he asked. 

"That's what I usually do after work," you said. 

"Need a ride?" 

That was an offer you hadn't expected. While you got along well enough, you would hardly call the two of you friends. But you appreciated the fact that he'd offered and that he made an effort to be nice. 

"Sure," you replied with an easy smile. "What's the occasion?" 

Billy snorted when he walked you to his car. "I can't be nice just for the hell of it?" He unlocked the car and gestured for you to get in. 

You chuckled and got into the passenger's seat. "We both know you're not nice. Either you think you owe me a favor, or you're trying to impress me." 

"Maybe so," Billy said as he slid into the driver's seat, closing the door with a huff. 

You caught a glimpse of his bulging bicep when he pulled the door closed. It was a pleasant sight and you had since long given up on trying not to ogle. "So which is it?" you asked. 

The car roared to life when he turned the key in the ignition. Stepping on the gas, he revved the engine, it purred pleasantly. He took his aviators off and put them in the pocket of his shirt before he turned and smiled at you. "Guess." 

"Smooth," you said. There was no denying that part of you was very impressed.

Billy gave a light chuckle as he shifted gear and pulled out onto the street. "Where did you live, again?" he asked. 

"I don't think I ever told you," you pointed out. 

"Bit hard to drive you home if I don't know where you live, don't you think?" He glanced over at you but you stubbornly looked ahead, wanting to keep him guessing. "You gonna tell me? Or should I just take you home to mine?" 

As tempting as that sounded, you were eager to go home and shower. "Coming on a little strong, aren't you, Hargrove?" 

"Suit yourself. I don't offer that to all the girls I meet," he said and clicked his tongue. 

"You'd better not," you said and looked over at him. 

He laughed at that. An actual full laugh that had his shoulders bouncing and his eyes squinting. "You're something, Y/L/N." 

Grinning, you turned to look through the windshield. "Just get me home," you said with a smirk.

『••✎••』

Taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #dingus writings

[thecameronchronicles]

Fright Fest

TW: DarkRafe! Smut! Language. Degrading Language. Slight angst/tension.

SUMMARY: What should have been just a movie night at your best friend, Rafe’s, house, turns erotic when he learns how both the movies and himself affect you…

WORD COUNT: 3000

*Requested*

Fright Fest

Halloween left you dependent on three things; a group costume with your friends far too sexual for a theme that was guaranteed to enrage mothers and feminists alike, a stomach ache the morning after from having guzzled candy like it was going out of style, and the annual Cameron movie fest with your best friend, Rafe. 

The details were the same each and every year, and yet it was a staple in your friendship with him that would feel sacrilegious to not partake in it. Even if you found the gaudy yet festive decorations hung by Rose to be less than desirable, your heart warmed at the sight of Rafe’s warm smile greeting you as he sent a fist full of some unboxed candy into his mouth. 

“‘Bout time.” He teased, motioning you inside, unbeknownst to you, his eyes following your fame as he closed the door behind you, just as he had done each and every time you crossed the threshold. But to be fair, you were able to steal your own fair share of glances when he wasn’t looking. How could you not when every single one of his shirts strained at the mercy of his muscles tensing without much effort. 

“So I thought we could try something a bit scarier than ‘Goosebumps’ this year…” He continued to tease you as you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms as he unveiled the marathon in question. A collection of modern movies set across the screen of the large television laid queued as he gave a wicked smirk. 

“I already have the pizza on the way and as always,” He withdrew a bowl of candy from the side table, setting it on the surface before you as you made your way onto the couch. 

“And if you get scared, I’m always right there to hold ya…” He leaned close enough to you to test your reaction before turning the remainder of the distance from the couch until he was at your side. 

It would only take a handful of minutes, however, before the first death would be broadcast across the screen, something that made you hike your knees to your chest, while you hid your eyes away from the gore. 

“Not too late for ‘goosebumps’, you know…” He taunted as the sound of the doorbell rang and he was quick to his feet, a crisp fifty in hand, before leaving you to endure the movie on your own. 

“Well that was…whatever the hell that was…” Your eyes jumped to him, thankful for the excuse to look anywhere but the screen in front of you. 

“What?”

“Sketchy pizza guy…must just be a pogue not used to Figure Eight…just…didn’t seem right…” He shrugged it off before setting the pizzas onto the table, the sight of a classic display of cheese and pepperoni making your mouth water. For a moment, you caught him from your peripheral vision as he seemed to focus on something just over your shoulder, before returning to the dinner. 

A series of tormenting jump scares and laughs made at your expense from your supposed best friend, and you found yourself set with only one movie left. But just before he was about to press play, the remnants of a pizza existing on the table by aroma and crusts alone, he narrowed his eyes to the window at your back. 

“Do you see that?” He learned closer to you on the couch, pointing with his toned arm set in the direction of what he spoke of. 

“Stop it, Rafe…”

“No, I’m serious…Look-What IS that?” He questioned as you looked back to simply validate his attempt was to frighten you, before you noticed a bush moving from having been brushed despite the lack of wind on this specific night. 

“See-”

“What-What is it?”

“Here..I’ll go check it out…That way you can change your panties…” He teased. 

“I’m not THAT scared!”

“Either way you’ll piss yourself because of it you’ll be so thankful when I return having defended your honor that it’ll show-either way, needing new panties...” He winked, this usual oversexualied banter a normalcy between the two of you, one you’d always roll your eyes to as you never believed it held any true merit. How wrong you were…

He was gone only a handful of seconds before you could hear him call after someone, the sudden sound of a gunshot stilling you in place, until you’d ultimately summon him by name. 

“R-Rafe?” You questioned slowly, inching towards the door he’d left open, feeling as if you were suddenly thrust into the center of your own horror movie. This was amplified as the sight of a serrated blade made its way against the front door, a masked figure making his way over the threshold, shaking his head as you’d begun to back away. It wasn’t until he lifted the weapon that you’d noticed how it had been coated in blood, a sight that sent you sprinting towards the steps before he’d catch your ankle. No matter if the details boggled your mind between gunshot and knife, you were too frazzled to question.

“Someone!” You pleaded for a passerby to hear your pleas, but with the estate set behind thick stone fencing and their nearest neighbor having likely been at some event, you were left to your own devices. For that, you used your opposite foot to try and kick yourself free, but were pulled down to the base step, a straddle to your waist keeping you in place as his hands carried to your face, the cold knife pressed to your cheek. 

“Please…” You begged as you felt him chuckle over you, almost amused by your plea. Your eyes closed tightly as you prepared for what was to come, too confused how it had even transpired, before his hands inclined to your breast. At the same moment that he fondled you through your cropped top, nippled hardening by your natural anatomical response, you’d been allowed insight to the identity of this masked intruder. 

“Is that…pizza sauce?” You asked, reservation in your voice as the blade was close enough to take in the scent as he stalled for a second before your fingers pulled the mask up to reveal himself to you. 

“Happy Halloween-” He spoke proudly, Rafe’s wicked grin stretched wide across his face as you pushed yourself off of him, hands in sharp shoves against his torso. Using the back of your hand to wipe away the tears that had escaped your attempts, you narrowed your eyes at him with a deep glare.

“What the fuck, Rafe! I thought…” You motioned to the direction of the door, realizing any attempt to make him sympathetic to you would be in vain as he wouldn't find fault in what he believed to be a harmless prank. 

“You can’t really think some psycho pizza guy could get ME-” He continued with his humor as you just shook your head in disbelief. 

“You’re an asshole!”

“Hey, it was just a joke-”

“To who?!” Tears continued down your cheeks. “I thought you were dead, Rafe! Right now, I wish you were!” Your words, more painful than intended to both speak and hear, brought him to take hold of your wrist. 

“I’m sorry, okay, I thought it’d make you laugh-”

“What part of that seemed funny to you? Where I thought you were dead or where you tried to kill me?”

“Come on, you know I’d never hurt you…”

“Tell that to my back that was just pressed up against those stairs. My heart, my-” You paused, “You know what, forget it! I’m going home, fuck this…and fuck you.” You moved to the direction of the living room, where your purse lay on the floor, before he blocked the closest exit, removing the costume stored prior to this apparent plan. 

“Please…”

“This is too far, even for you, Rafe.”

“Even for me? What's that supposed to mean?” His eyes narrowed. 

“That you keep doing shit like this and I ALWAYS defend you…I’ve lost SO many of my friends doing that…” His eyes fell away from you for a moment as your thoughts continued aloud, “THAT was too far-”

“So you’re just gonna leave over some joke you couldn’t find humor in?”

“I thought you were dead! And then you…you grope me like that!” To your words, he’d only smirk. 

“You know…THAT’S what I find funny…” You threw your hands up in surrender. 

“What, Rafe?” He now crossed the floor in front of you. 

“You didn’t push me away…Almost like,” He continued closer still, knife drawn to your stomach and making a slow incline to the curve of your crop top exposing your breasts. “You wanted me to…”

“You’re sick-”

He shrugged. “I felt you react to me…Your body curving into me. You forget that I’ve known you your entire life…I know your reactions to everything-”

“You’re delusional! I’m going home-” You tried to move past him, but he ‘tsked’ against you, knife guiding you into the wall at your back. 

“Rafe-”

“I know it turned you on…it’s okay…I can help…” His hand now collected your hip as you retracted from him, his eyes flashing to you in survey. 

“We’re friends…”

“Friends…” He slowly nodded before looking towards the couch. “Were we friends when you pushed yourself against me when you got scared? We we friends when you show up to my house dressed like a whore-”

“Rafe!”

“Because you WANT me to see you this way…” He carried the blade to your lips, pressing it sideways to not draw blood, but to keep the threat the same nonetheless. 

“You’re not leaving until you tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“That you wanted meto fuck you-” You turned in disgust as he suddenly took hold of your jaw. 

“I was REALLY hoping you wouldn’t make it easy-”

“What are you-” Before you could object, he had his hand within your shorts, the evidence of his speculation indisputable on the edges of his fingers. 

“Fuck…I knew it…” Your breath became erratic as his fingers collected your slick for evidential purposes aside from offering you pleasure, and yet, it had been enough to leave volts of electricity behind in his endeavor. 

As your breathing quickened to him, he marveled at just how you had reacted to these touches, his body pinning you against the wall as you took hold of his arms for stability. 

“Fucking greedy little thing, aren’t ya-”

“Rafe-” Suddenly his fingers stopped, your eyes remaining set into his, as he withdrew his touch from your panties, and carried it to his mouth. Tracing your remnants on his bottom lip, he’d extend this over his tongue and rolled his eyes to your taste. 

“Better than any fucking candy…” He explained as he saw your lips part to speak against this, well aware your morals were quaking against your arousal, a constant feat he knew and conquered all too often. 

“You have ten seconds…Run-”

“Rafe?”

“Because once I find you…I’m GOING to hurt you…” You pushed past his arm, looking back for only a moment to watch him garner that smirk, until you’d tried for a haven anywhere within Tannyhill, finding several of the rooms locked in what you realized to have been a ploy by him. 

Cursing beneath your breath, you heard him climb the steps at your back as you managed to hide in the hallway closet before he passed you. Once he was no longer in view, you attempted to move back down the steps and into the living room as you knew it was only a matter of time until he came upon you, feeling him apprehend you by the back of your neck. 

“Back where we started-poetic isn’t it?”

“Please, Rafe-”

His eyes rolled again. “You sound so fucking good when you beg…how about when you choke?” Your eyes narrowed in confusion as he forced you onto your knees, your eyes lifting to him. 

“Rafe?”

“You can keep saying my name…you’re not going anywhere until I’m done with you.” He lowered to you, pulling your neck at a further extension by the grip he still held. 

“Especially since I know how badly you want this…” He teased a kiss, forcing your lips to part, before he returned you to your knees. 

“I KNOW you know what to do…so stop making fucking excuses and take me like the whore you are for this knife…for me…” Your fingers struggled to rise in confidence, making him frustrated enough to undo his belt with one hand. This was what you needed to slip away from him, that release of your neck, as you’d tried for another exit. Only now, it only lead you back to the steps, a guttural growl heard as he pulled you to face him. 

“That’s fine, sweetheart…fight it all you want…I know the mess you’re making in your panties for me…In fact…” He kept the knife to your neck as he removed your bottoms and leaving only that saturated silk behind. A hard swallow from your throat only widening his grin. 

“Touch yourself. With my knife to your throat…or I could always…” He now turned the knife, holding the blade carefully between his fingers as he used its hilt against your clothed clit. 

“Still gonna deny this? I’m not even touch you and you’re fucking soaked and being fondled by a knife’s edge…And I could do this all day, sweetheart…I don’t think your panties can say the same-” Your hand reached to his wrist, your arousal taking over for your sense of mental stability that always seemed to falter in his presence. Moreso now than ever…

“Please…” You whimpered, your nails digging into his grip as he only scoffed to your attempt to bring him pain. 

“Please? What are you asking for? Because you’re crying but you’re grinding into me-kinda confusing, don’t you think-”

“Just-”

“What?” He interrupted, teasing you.

“Touch me, Rafe…Please!” You continued to rock into the hilt, motions intensified by him taking it deeper against you, as you began to moan unapologetic whines while finding an uncomfortable rest at the stair behind you. 

“You want me to touch you, sweetheart?” You nodded, “Nah…I like watching you fuck against this knife…Feels good, don’t it?” You clenched your jaw, not wanting to admit it as he took his freehand to your breast, kneading your nipple just as he had done before. Only now, without the mask, and without the fear, as you DID want this. 

More Than you should have. 

More than you wanted to admit. 

“Good fucking girl…yes…” He chuckled, taking his covered cock against your thigh. 

“I was gonna try and be sweet with you…take my time…But then you had to go and pull that shit-” The knife was now thrown behind him as he turned you onto your hands and knees, the sound of his clothes being removed sending your eyes into a roll for what was to come.

“So now you’re gonna take me how I want and be fucking grateful I’m letting you have my cock at all after that stunt-”

“Rafe-”

“What’s that? No…You don’t get to fucking talk anymore. Not unless it’s to beg me-not that I’ll stop…But just because I love hearing it.”He growled before suddenly penetrating into you, your hips rammed into the wood of the steps and back into him, a painful continuation that didn’t find cessation in any aspect. 

And you loved it.

You loved the way he felt bottoming out inside of you, your pussy just as hungry for it as his cock had been, as well as how he was so rough after years of sexual tension amounting to this. This was what you wanted-however he wanted you, you’d succumb just to please him, just to feel him. 

“Fuck-” You grunted as he pounded against you, his stamina tiring your own as he showed no signs of stopping, only chuckling and grunting to your struggles. 

“You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” Before you could answer, he supplied one for you, “Yeah you do…Fucking whore…” 

“Rafe-”

“That’s okay, baby-you’re MY whore…” He soothed the sting of his words before forcing you harder against the steps. 

“Feel so fucking tight-shit!” He cursed, your fingers reaching for some form of release that he continuously denied you in his distance. Desperation led your hand to your clit as he was quick to apprehend. 

“Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you!’ He ordered as you whimpered. 

“Rafe, please! PLEASE!”

He growled into your shoulder,a slight indent of his teeth left behind into your skin, as he slowed. 

“You beg so fucking pretty…For that, I’ll listen-”

“I want to come-please…” You added the plea in the hope it would sweeten his reservations. But it only seemed to darken the lust behind his eyes. 

“You wanna come, baby?” His tone turned soft. “You want me to make you come?”

“God,YES!” 

“Tell me-”

“Rafe-” You whined as he pulled you to his chest. 

“You said some mean things, sweetheart…I need you to convince me to reward you for this…Otherwise, I’ll use you for myself…and as you can tell, I can do this ALL night…” You groaned at the idea. “So use your big girl words for me…and tell me…convince me…”

“Please, Rafe…Make me come-'' But you were left abandoned from his cock, a sucked breath taken behind his teeth as he positioned you over his lap. 

“Then work for it…” He grunted as you took hold of his shaft, aligning him to your entrance, as he slipped back into you with ease. 

“See how fucking wet you are! Shit! You're making It so easy but still so goddamn tight-Goddammit!” He admitted behind clenched teeth. 

“Thatta girl-Keep riding me like that-yeah-yeah-yeah!” He groaned into your shoulder, your bodies moving together at a murderous pace as he’d takehold of the back of your neck before guiding his hand to your clit. 

“I want you to come for me-come on my cock so I can feel you clench-come on…” His hand now tapped your cheek, a light slap validating his dominance as you moaned out a smirk as he’d repeat the process. 

“You like being used just for me? Fucked like this? Like a little whore?”

“YES!”

“Then. Fucking. Come.” You buckled over him, your clench prompting his own release as he'd leave marks into your skin by his grip, keeping you stilled as you recovered from your mutual tremors. 

“Rafe…Happy halloween-” You teased him as he scoffed before leading you into him with a deep French kiss. 

“But if you EVER pull shit like that again…You won’t get to touch me.” The fear of losing you now broadcast behind his eyes, he nodded. 

“We still have one more movie to finish…” You climbed off of him as he watched you in awe, the words on the tip of his tongue that he’d wanted to admit since he first felt them in his early adolescence. 

He loved you. 

He loved everything about how depraved anddemented you were; synonymous to him. 

But more than that, he loved that you were willing to be that FOR him. 

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets

#rafecameron x reader #rafecameron #rafe cameron #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #outer banks smut #obx #outerbanks #drew starkey #netflix #outer banks #kooks

[coopigeoncoo]

Hot Dish, Chapter 1: The First Course

Chapter Links: One, Two, Three

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+

Tags: Sexual content, Exhibitionism, Chikan, Heavy Petting, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Safe Sex, Consentual Sex, Swearing, Romance, Soft Shigaraki, Posessive Shigaraki, Domestic fluff, Mutual Pining

---

Down on his luck and scrambling for survival, Shigaraki Tomura was just looking for a place to score a hot meal.

Instead, he ended up scoring a hot date.

--- "You want gravy?" You asked, waggling the ladle of onion sauce enticingly, some of it sloshing over the edge of the spoon and falling back into the pot with a wet squelch. Tomura glared at the chunky sauce disdainfully before closing his eyes and sighing.

"Whatever."

"Gravy it is!" You cheer, pouring the sauce over the meat patty before passing it to him. "There you go! A hunk of meat for my favorite hunk."

--- A slow, domestic romance between a volunteer at a soup kitchen and the newly destitute leader of a notorious villain organization.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to Ao3!

Chapter 1: The First Course

It was the busiest time of year at the soup kitchen.  The weather had recently turned bitter cold and the promise of a warm meal and a respite from enduring the brutal weather was too good of an opportunity for people to pass up. You had started volunteering during high school, looking for a way to beef up your college applications, and found a great deal of personal fulfillment helping out others in your free time. 

Now in college, you still made time to regularly volunteer even though your budget would greatly benefit from you picking up more shifts at your part time job instead.  But you were driven to altruism by that stubborn organ beating in your chest; reminding you of how much you loved the regulars, your friends in the volunteer group, and the feeling of contributing something meaningful to society. 

As much as you enjoyed the work, there were definitely plenty of things about it you wish you could change; the biggest being the terrible feeling you got when the time came to shut the door and cut the line off because you'd reached maximum capacity for the night.  Having to turn people away, hungry and cold, always gnawed at your conscience and you desperately wished that you had a Quirk that could somehow stretch your food supply farther- make every bite more filling or every pot bottomless.  

But you didn't.  So as soon as the last pan of curry was placed up onto the chafing dish you waved to get the attention of the volunteer at the door, a massive literal bear of a man, who then began to make apologies to the people queued up outside as he closed up the entrance.  

"Looks like Scruffy Hot Guy didn't make it in today," Kiyomi, your long time friend and fellow volunteer, teased with a gentle elbow to your ribs.  

"Oh, hush!" You chide her sharply as you scoop up rice. 

"Relax!  It's not like I'm going to tell the guy you think he's- what were your words?  'Brooding and mysterious'?"

"I deeply regret telling you that," you grumble irritably as you slide a plate in front of Kiyomi for her to ladle a serving of curry onto.  Laughing at your expense, you watched as she gave the curry a stir, counting the remaining chunks of chicken and mentally calculating how to divide them up fairly amongst the remaining guests in line.  The next few plates were distributed without incident, people quietly thanking you both as they received their entrees and continued down the line as you and Kiyomi chatted together.  

You were dishing up one of the final scoops when a deep, growling voice interrupted you.

"That ain't enough rice," the man in front of you grumbled in complaint.  He was unbelievably tall, his head nearly scraping the spotty and discolored ceiling tiles as he crossed his arms across his chest, flexing his basketball-sized biceps in an obvious bid to intimidate you.  You had never seen him before, but that wasn't terribly uncommon as people generally filtered in and out as they moved around the city looking for new job opportunities.  

"Excuse me?"

"I said that ain't enough damn rice.  That might be enough for a small thing like you but I need more."

"I'm sorry, sir.  Everyone gets the same dinner serving size to keep things fair.  Further down the line we have protein bars and fruit that you can supplement your meal with-"

"I don't want protein bars!" The man yelled.  "Damn things taste like sawdust!"

You were about to offer another apology and attempt to diffuse the situation when another voice spoke out from behind the irate man.

"Take the food or get out of line."

"What did you say?" The man screamed, spinning around to confront the man behind him.

"Scruffy Hot Guy," Kiyomi gasped in delight.  Sure enough, the object of your idle gossip appeared from behind the screaming man; somehow managing to appear both disinterested and profoundly irritated by the goings on in front of him.  

"I'm hungry and you're holding up the line.  Move, " he practically growled from behind his facemask, his red eyes narrowing in warning.  The large stranger threw his head back, clearly amused by the willowy man's implied threat.  

"Oh, yeah?  Tell you what, why don't you just give me your portion then?  No way a stick like you needs to eat much."

You didn't clearly see what happened next.  There was no scuffle or physical altercation, just Scruffy Hot Guy hooking a finger over his facemask, preparing to pull it down, as he disappeared behind his aggressors' wide frame.  The next thing you knew the large man was reeling back, white as a sheet, as he tripped over his feet in his hasty scramble to the exit.  

Scruffy Hot Guy stepped forward in the line, now occupying the space in front of you as he adjusted his facemask back into position and pulled the sides of his hoodie forward to obscure his face as best he could.  

"That was amazing," you breathed, scooping up a slightly larger helping of rice onto his plate now that there was one fewer person in line.  "What did you even do to that guy?  A Quirk thing?"

"Nah," Scruffy Hot Guy shrugged, scratching at his neck uneasily under your scrutiny.  "I just showed him my face.  Guess I must be pretty ugly."

"I sincerely doubt that," you laugh as you push his plate down the line towards Kiyomi.  "But even if you were, I'd still give you my number if you asked for it," you said, staring directly into his eyes and raising your eyebrows imploringly.  His eyes widened, obviously stunned by your flirtation.  The skin above his facemask burned a brilliant red, temporarily coordinating with his eyes in a very fetching way. 

He mumbles something under his breath as he quickly averts his eyes, hunching his shoulders as he shuffles down the line; grabbing the completed tray from Kiyomi’s hands before loading up his coat pockets with protein bars and trail mix packets and sliding into an open seat on the far end of the room.    

Kiyomi shakes her head, laughing at your rejection as she preps the final plate of the evening.  

“What?” you huff in exasperation.  “You can’t blame me for shooting my shot!  I’ve been waiting weeks for an opening!”

The last person in line, an old woman who came around every week or so, tsked disapprovingly.  “The Gods take the time to craft a man with a butt like that and you wait weeks to make a move?  Are you really that stupid?”

“Hey!” You screech indignantly while Kiyomi throws her head back, cackling.  “I’m not stupid!  Just…cautious.  You never know what someone is really like, you know?”

“True enough,” the old woman hummed, gently rummaging through a pile of overripe bananas. “But I take it that you have a better idea of what sort of man he is now?”

You spared a glance over to the far side of the room, where Scruffy Hot Guy was slowly savoring his meal; his hood pulled low down low to obscure his face while he ate. 

“Yeah, I think I do.”  

Scruffy Hot Guy hadn’t seemed to be particularly receptive to your first advance, but he also hadn’t outright rejected you either.  So you’re currently stuck occupying some sort of weird flirtatious limbo; unsure if you should continue your pursuit or abandon your efforts entirely.  

Deciding to play it by ear, your life cycled through your normal routine until your next shift at the soup kitchen.  

“Well, well, well!  Look who it is!” Kiyomi crowed in delight as Scruffy Hot Guy stepped up in front of you again.  “Our very own Hero has returned to us!”

“Please, Kiyomi,” you scoffed as you slid a grilled fish onto a plate.  “He’s better than a Hero; he’s a good person.”

“Aren’t they pretty much the same thing?”

“Not always,” you mumble, using your tongs to scrape at some fish glaze that had burned at the bottom of the serving dish, entirely missing the interested gaze of Scruffy Hot Guy quietly assessing you.  

"Oden today," you said as you ladled broth into a large soup bowl, chunks of fish cake floating up to the top.

Scruffy Hot Guy peered at the bowl, seemingly unimpressed by the offering.

"Not a fan?"

"It's fine," he mumbled, placing the bowl down gently on his tray, careful not to spill a single drop despite the bobbing radish slices sloshing the broth about.  

"If you have an allergy or something there are some leftovers from yesterday I can reheat for you."

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head gently, pausing to spoon some seven spice on top of his bowl.  "I usually try to pack some of the food away for later.  But soup doesn't travel very well."

You hummed thoughtfully as he finished his meal selection and took his seat.  Once the line had died down you ducked back into the kitchen, snagging a disposable coffee cup and lid before making your way back to the cafeteria.  Silently, you deposit the empty cup next to Scruffy Hot Guy's tray before continuing on past his table to grab a tub of dirty dishes to haul back to the kitchen for cleaning.  

"Thank you," he said quietly as you passed behind him, carefully spooning a hardboiled egg into the cup you'd left him.  

"Of course."

"We have to stop meeting like this," you sighed dramatically, passing him a bowl of stir fried vegetables. 

"How else would we meet?  It’s obvious we run in very different social circles."

"What makes you say that?"

"Really?" Scruffy Hot Guy scoffed.  

"I'm serious!" You pouted, looking critically down at the parts of your ensemble visible around the disposable apron you were required to wear.  You took a lot of pride in your appearance, a good portion of your slush fund spent on building your wardrobe and keeping your nails finely manicured.  Friends had joked about your high maintenance appearance in the past, but you personally likened yourself to a painting; already beautiful to start with but an absolute masterpiece with the right frame to accentuate your features.  Finding no obvious flaws in your appearance, you narrow your eyes at him peevishly.

"Are you saying you'd be ashamed to be seen with me?"

" What," he sputtered, his voice pitched somewhere between shocked and indignant.  

"Don't you 'what' me, mister!  I'll have you know that I'm hot enough to roll with any crew."

"That's not the issue."

"It's not?  So you think I'm hot then?" you pry coyly, fluttering your lashes.  Choking on air, he slams his bowl of vegetables down onto his tray and quickly bumbles away as you laugh.

"Where’s the bun?" Scruffy Hot Guy asked, staring down at the lump of meat you were serving up.

"It's hamburg steak, not a hamburger."

"So it's a burger.  With no bun."

"Right.  No bun, but there is gravy.  You want gravy?" You asked, waggling the ladle of onion sauce enticingly, some of it sloshing over the edge of the spoon and falling back into the pot with a wet squelch.  Scruffy Hot Guy glared at the chunky sauce disdainfully before closing his eyes and sighing.

"Whatever."

"Gravy it is!" You cheer, pouring the sauce over the meat patty before passing it to him.  "There you go!  A hunk of meat for my favorite hunk."

Cheeks rosy above his facemask, he mumbled something intelligible before calmly stepping away.  Smiling widely, you spun on your heel to face Kiyomi.

"He didn't run away!"

"He didn't run away," she confirmed, laughing as you pumped a fist in victory.

"Soooo," you drawl sweetly. "Am I ever gonna get a name out of you?" 

Scruffy Hot Guy visibly stilled, obviously deeply uncomfortable by your current line of questioning.   

"No need to answer if you don't want to.  I won't pry.  I can just call you by the nickname Kiyomi and I gave you," you offer in concession, laying a generous serving or rice gratin next to a small pile of lettuce leaves.  

"What name is that?"

"Scruffy Hot Guy."

A sound that could be best described as some sort of plaintive wail escaped Scruffy Hot Guy as he scratched nervously at his throat.  

"You should-," he paused to swallow thickly.  "You should call me Tenko.  It's better than- than that."

"Tenko it is, then.  Hot Guy Tenko."

"You're insufferable," he growled.

"Well, misery loves company so how about you and I suffer together over coffee sometime?"

"Don't turn my insults into propositions," he chided, selecting a small pouch of dressing for his wilting salad.  

"Sorry, no can do.  I'm nothing if not persistent."

"Persistent?  That's a considerate way to frame that bratty attitude of yours."

"Oh?  What would you call me instead?"

"I would call you what you are," Tenko says, the space between his eyes crinkling with malicious glee. "An absolute Pest."

"Tenko!" You gasp, a gloved hand raised above your chest in mock outrage. "Save the cute nicknames for when we're in private!"

Tenko grunts irritably as he rolls his eyes and steps away from you.  

Kiyomi whistles sharply, waving a hand to fan at her face. "Goodness, that was intense.  When's the wedding going to be?"

"Spring next year.  I want a long engagement so I can save for my dress," you grin, sending a wink at Tenko when you catch him trying to sneak a glance back at you.  He glares back before dropping his head and digging into his meal.

The past few months had been the absolute lowest point in Tomura's life.  His Master had been brought low and imprisoned in Tartarus, the League was fractured and forced underground, and all of his available resources had been drained during the frantic scramble for survival those first few weeks he spent on the lam.  His life of ease and luxury had been erased in an instant; falling to ashes around him like he had dusted it with his Quirk himself.  The summer months outside hadn’t been awful, but he had been forced from his favorite hiding spots once the weather turned colder.  

These days, he spent the majority of his waking hours holed up in various arcades; lifting near empty play cards from unminded purses and pockets and taking hits from unstubbed cigarettes he pulled from the ashtrays to keep his hunger at bay.  Whatever prizes he managed to win he would deliver to Toga during their brief meetups; small things like cell phone straps and plush animals that meant nothing to him, but that she would cradle to her chest with a delighted squeal like they were precious treasures.       

When the League had split, Twice had tearfully supplied them all with maps of the areas he was familiar with.  They were bizarre, scrawling things, folded up like origami cranes and written in a mix of precise pencil notes and wild glitter pen scribblings.  The maps turned out to be just as useful as they were visually abrasive, though.  He’d taken the time to write out common Hero patrol schedules, potential hide outs, the stores that sold the cheapest burner phones, and places to grab free meals.  That was what brought him into the soup kitchen that first day.  

He hadn’t been expecting a lot, because little was all he seemed to be capable of receiving these days.  Little food, little sleep, little peace, little comfort.  But he definitely hadn’t been expecting you.

You threw Tomura through a loop like you pitched for the Major Leagues; with a devastating and seemingly effortless force that left him awestruck and barely holding onto the metaphorical bat.  

There had been plenty of women before.  They were always there, buzzing about the fringes of wherever people of power congregated.  But interactions with them were simply transactional, trading calculated touches and honeyed words for money or influence; things Tomura was awash in for years and freely utilized to sate his desires.  

So flirting was a bit of a new experience for him.  

He didn’t know what to do when you smiled at him; guileless and simply pleased by his presence.  When you flirted with him it was out of some misguided, but sincere, desire to be closer to him.  There was no angling for his money because there was no longer any money to be had.  The mere idea that you found him somehow valuable and worthy of your attention was as flattering as it was bewildering and left Tomura floundering more often than not.  

Tomura didn’t understand your interest.  He’d seen himself in the mirror and held no illusions about his appeal.  He was pale and lanky; crusty and scarred.  He’d seen his partners hide grimaces when his shirt came off, their fingers giving his flaking skin a wide berth as they hesitantly set a course across his back and shoulders.  

And as distasteful as his body was, Tomura knew his personality wasn’t much better.  

There wasn’t a single thing about himself that should draw your attention.  But he still desperately, recklessly, wanted it just the same.  

“Shit,” Tomura whispered, dropping his head forward to thump against the window of the pachinko machine he was seated at, the wild pinging of the steel balls synchronizing distressingly well with the frantic beating of his heart.   

You had been pulling on your regulation hair net when a flier on the bulletin board in the volunteer lounge caught your eye.

“Oh, no,” you moaned miserably.  “We have a Hero Day coming up?”

Various groans of confirmation came from the other volunteers, each sounding as excited at the prospect as you were.    

“Who is it this time?” 

“Mt. Lady and Uwabami.  They got into a spat at some televised fundraiser so their PR teams are shoving them together here to kiss and make nice for the cameras,” Kiyomi explained as she slipped the strap of a plastic apron over your head.    

“Great.  Just great,” you sneered as you hip checked the door open and made your way to the dining room.  

“So, is today finally the day?”

“Is today the day for what? ” Tenko asked, waiting impatiently for you and Kiyomi to finish serving his tempura.  

“Resolving this obvious tension between us by going out on a date together?”  

Tenko narrowed his eyes, an inscrutable look on his face.  “And where exactly would I take you to?  A different soup kitchen?”

“Nah, this one’s pretty nice, don’t you think?”

Tenko sent a brief look off to the right, where a wet mop was propped up in the corner near the section of floor missing a large chunk of linoleum.  “Nice.  Sure. ”   

“Well, nice enough for a first date at least.”

“If this place is first date worthy I can’t imagine what sort of place you’d consider for a second one.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see then, won’t you?” you replied with a wink.

“I guess I will,” Tenko said as he slid his tray down the line before looking back over his shoulder.  “Well?  Are you coming or not?”

Eyes wide, you spin around to face Kiyomi who’s silently mouthing the word ‘Go’ while shooing you away with frantic hands.  Tugging off your gloves and hair net, you dashed out from behind the counter, skidding behind the last patron in line who called out as you passed:

“Get it, girly!” he cackled as you made a brief detour to dump your used sanitary into a trash can.

"I'm working on it, old man!"  You hollered back, sliding into the chair opposite of Tenko while the other occupants of the table scrunched their chairs and trays towards the far end of the table to give you two some semblance of privacy.  

"Hero Day?" Tenko sneered down at the flier on his tray that was advertising the fast approaching special event.

"Yeah," you sighed. "It gets really busy here on Hero Days, so we like to give the regulars a heads up.  The Hero agencies usually donate larger quantities of better quality food, so the bigger meals draw in folks who would normally hit up other soup kitchens."

"So they bribe desperate people with food to act as props for their social media campaigns?"

"Yep," you agreed as you passed Tenko his plate, which he slammed down over the faces of Uwabami and Mt. Lady grinning up at him from his tray.

"Disgusting, " he spat as he stormed away to his usual seat.

The force of everyone's collective will power wasn't enough to stop Hero Day from arriving at the soup kitchen.  The entire crew of volunteers had arrived unreasonably early that morning to clean the facility from top to bottom in preparation for the arrival of Mt. Lady, Uwabami, and the veritable fleet of sidekicks and photographers they would both bring.  Once the janitorial work was completed and the entire front room smelled overwhelmingly of bleach, everyone migrated back into the kitchen and began assembling and bagging up sandwiches to be handed out to the scores of hungry folks who would be drawn to the large event but unable to make it inside before the line cuts off and the doors close.  

You were stacking large boxes of finished sandwiches against the back wall when one of the volunteers, a middle-aged man with a bat mutation, paused in his work of spreading mayonnaise across slices of wheat bread when his ears twitched.  

“They’ve arrived,” he warned quietly as he resumed his work.  “And they don’t sound particularly happy.”  

Kiyomi snorted.  “What else is new?”

Another ear twitch.  “Oh.  Now they’re arguing with the Program Director.  Things are getting heated.  Someone should go up there and back her up.”

Everyone was quiet at the idea of having to go toe-to-toe with two Heroes and their sycophantic entourages.  

“Not it!” Kiyomi called out, thrusting her hand into the air.  The rest of the volunteers quickly followed, tossing their hands into the air to opt out.  You had been halfway across the room, carrying a large box of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that prevented you from raising your hand.  

“Real mature tactic there, everyone,” you snapped irritably as you set the box down and made your way to the door.  

“Have fun!” Kiyomi said cheerily as she waved.  You stuck your middle finger up in return and made your way up the hall to the dining room. 

The scene you arrived at was chaotic.  

Your Program Director, a usually sweet and accommodating woman, was red in the face and absolutely screaming at a sharply dressed man in an ash gray suit.  Mt. Lady and Uwabami were seated as far from each other as physically possible in the moderate sized room, shooting icy glares at each other while their makeup teams toiled to get them camera ready.  The tables in the dining room were already half full despite it being a couple of hours before you were set to open; the seats occupied by people in ill-fitting clothes with dirt smeared artfully across their faces while they passed the time tapping on the screens of expensive, top of the line phones.  You hurry to your Director’s side, making excuses to the man in the suit and guiding her away from the altercation with a firm hand on her elbow.  

Her eyes begin to water as her adrenaline crashes, and you grab a handful of scratchy napkins from a dispenser for her to dry her face with as she sobs. 

“What’s going on here,” you ask gently, rubbing soothing circles on her bicep.  

“Mt. Lady was worried about how the PR photos would turn out so she decided to hire some extras to pose for pictures with her,” she sniffed, dabbing at her face with shaking fists.  

“ Some extras?  We’re already at half capacity with all these people here!”

“I know .”

“And she’s just going to give away food to people she’s paying who can already afford to eat?  While actually hungry people line up outside?”

The Director nodded miserably while you scrubbed a hand down your face, furious.  

“I fucking hate Hero Day.”    

There wasn’t a force on Earth that would force Tomura into the soup kitchen on the day when it would be swarming with Heroes and their worshippers, but his stomach was still making a strong case for itself despite his iron-clad will.  Being able to obtain regular meals made missing one even harder because the gnawing hunger tearing through his gut was an unfamiliar pain that demanded his full attention.  One hand held a nearly empty can of coffee, all he could afford with change he found on the ground today, while his other hand was buried deep in his coat pocket, systematically bending each of Father’s fingers into a fist before carefully straightening them out again and setting about to bend them once more.

He continued fiddling with his macabre fidget toy as he watched tiny snowflakes drift past the covered bus stop he was currently tucked away in; the plexiglass walls doing nothing to trap in heat but they did stop the blustery wind from chilling him down to the bone.  A soft knock next to his head drew his attention away from the falling flurries as he quickly spun to investigate the sound; finding you standing outside of the bus shelter, waving gently.  

Snowflakes had settled onto your eyelashes and they glittered fetchingly under the sickly yellow glow from the streetlight overhead.

"Mind if I join?" Your voice was muffled and distant through the plexiglass, but Tomura heard you clearly enough.  He nodded his assent and you beamed at him, quickly jogging to the entrance while pulling a large shopping trolley behind you.  

"Brr!" You exclaim as you settle next to him, closer than he should have allowed but still not as close as he wanted.  The trolley was situated in front of you both, and your thigh ended up brushing against Tomura's when you leaned forward to root through it.  He inhaled sharply at the innocent contact, his skin tingling with something other than chills where you pressed up against him.  

"Are you hungry?  I've been making the rounds with sandwiches and fruit and have some leftovers.  I've got ham and swiss or turkey and cheddar."

"Whatever's fine," Tomura said as you passed him a sandwich and an oblong apple that he immediately pulled down his mask to take a bite of.  It was mealy and so cold it caused his teeth to ache, but he polished it off in record time and dropped the remaining core into the plastic bag he extracted the sandwich from.    

He examined you from under his lashes, tugging down his hood to obscure his face as you did a quick tally of the remaining supplies in your trolley.  

"You're not at the soup kitchen today?"

"Nope.  Not my usual shift anyway.  I go in and help prep for the Hero Day visits, but me and the other volunteers leave early when the camera crews roll in.  We split up and pass out food on the streets instead."

"Didn't want to stick around for some autographs?"

"Hardly," you snorted inelegantly, tugging your gloves further down onto your fingers.  "We can't pass up on the donations the Hero Agencies offer up, but I refuse to participate in their meaningless virtue signaling.  If they actually wanted to help out they would just volunteer normally like the rest of us," you sniff in irritation, grinding a scratched off lottery ticket under the heel of your boot.  

"But instead they roll in with a cavalcade of reporters, serve up a couple of meals, and then wait for people on social media to tell them how thoughtful and good they are for putting on a show.  It's like a fireman showing up to a house fire, spitting on the flames, and then having people applaud them while the house is still burning."

"Like, Heroes have the money and the influence to actually help people, to really make a difference.  But instead they just waste their resources on meaningless stuff and- ugh, I don't know.  I guess I'm just frustrated because I can't imagine a scenario where I would prioritize acquiring fake internet points over providing a living, breathing person with a meal."

Sighing in frustration, you cross your arms and lean against the wall, your head tilted back to observe the falling snow like Tomura had been doing when you arrived.  

"Think we'd be better off without them?" Tomura asked, peeling off a section of bread crust and popped it into his mouth.

"Hmm?  Without who?"

"Heroes.  Do you think they're necessary?"

You're quiet for a moment, thoughtful.  Obviously weighing your words carefully before replying.   

"It's hard to say, I suppose,” you begin hesitantly. “This is the way the world's been the entire time I've been alive; so I don't have anything to really compare it to.  But I believe that things could be- should be , better than they are now.  I want there to be change, but I don't know what the best course of action for that sort of thing would be."

Tomura hummed, a sound of acknowledgement if not agreement, as he finished off his sandwich and pulled his mask back into place.  His meager disguise once again in place, Tomura leaned his head back and joined you in watching the snow flutter to the ground.  The small flurries had all but disappeared and were replaced by fat, puffy flakes; dramatic bits of fluff that stayed airborne for longer than seemed possible before they settled delicately onto the ground.

"I really love night time snow.  It's so romantic, don't you think?" 

"Can't say I've ever given it much thought," Tomura said, attempting to keep his voice level and casual and you slowly and cautiously slid towards him on the bench, the distance between you narrowing at a glacial pace that had Tomura nearly writhing in anticipation.  You came to a stop achingly close to Tomura, the remaining gap an open invitation for him to reach out, to touch, to accept whatever beautiful and intangible thing you were offering up to him.  

If Tomura were a good man, someone with a noble heart or a modicum of self-restraint, he would have tried to resist the temptation echoing in that sliver of space between you.  But he was, at his core, selfish and greedy; traits that had only been compounded by the past few months of hardship.  With so few things to his name, what he did possess became infinitely more precious and jealously guarded.  And here you were, entirely of your own volition, offering to become one of his rare possessions; to lay down willingly in his hoard- a priceless jewel amongst common trinkets for him to admire.          

The back of Tomura’s hand made contact with you first, gently skirting up the outside of your thigh.  You gasp, a sudden, breathy sound that sends a large cloud of condensation exploding into the air in front of your face as his hand continues its journey up the side of your body.  When his hand reaches your shoulder he carefully extends two fingers and sends them walking over your shoulders, a measured, unhurried march as they make their way across your back.  Once his arm is fully behind you he extends his thumb and wraps your bicep in a three fingered grip and pulls you towards him, the distance between your bodies erased as the grooves and divots of your bodies mold and settle into one and other.  

“Oh, Tenko,” you breathe, nuzzling into the cradle of his shoulder.  “Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Of course,” Tomura says as he runs an index finger across the swell of your cheek, smirking as you lean into his touch.  “I’m not planning to let you go.”     

Tenko had slid in through the soup kitchen doors a few minutes prior and you couldn't help the feeling of exhilaration that roiled in your belly and bubbled up your sternum as he drew closer to you in line.  The shift in your relationship was a recent and exciting novelty.  Every interaction was littered with relationship firsts; delicate threads of moments that would weave into precious memories you bundled your heart into to keep it warm in Tenko's absence.  

He was next in line, paused before Kiyomi as she placed a nearly expired rice ball donated from a local convenience store on his plate.

"You sure you want onigiri tonight?" Kiyomi asked, grinning fiendishly at Tenko as she added a couple of pickled plums next to the rice ball.

"Are there any other options?" 

"Well, you do have the option of this hot dish right here!" Kiyomi cackles as she elbows you roughly in the side, sending you stumbling out of place.  You grumble, rubbing at the impact point with your forearm so you wouldn't have to change your gloves.  

"I hope that you aren't offering her up to everyone in line," Tenko warned, his gaze steely as he narrowed his eyes at Kiyomi.  She swallowed thickly, shaking her head rapidly from side to side.

"No!  Of course not!"

"Good," Tenko said as he reached out for the plate you were holding out to him, running two fingers softly across the exposed band of skin above your glove, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake.  

"I've never been one for sharing."

Ever since that night at the bus stop Tenko had been staying late with you at the soup kitchen, awkwardly holding a mop in a pincer grip as he unenthusiastically pushed it around the edges of the room while you and the other volunteers closed up shop.  Once the doors were locked and you’d waved good-bye to your fellow workers, you and Tenko would set out into the city together.  On days when you had a lot of homework or a looming exam he would escort you to the train station, both of you shortening your gaits to draw out the precious few minutes of time you could spend together.  But when your schedule was more flexible you would wander around aimlessly; examining the garish holiday displays set up in store windows or settling on a park bench for extended bouts of people watching.    

Today found you both wandering through a pop-up market, weaving through crowds of harried shoppers and visibly distressed men trying to point their girlfriends and wives to vendors hawking less expensive potential Christmas gifts.  You were comparing the prints of a few different scarves when you noticed the first flurry drift through your line of sight.  With an excited squeal, you turned to find Tenko, sliding your arms around his waist and bouncing happily on the balls of your feet.

“It’s starting to snow again!”

“So it is,” Tenko said, a smile present in the timbre of voice.  Tilting your head back to gaze up into the inky sky, you sighed happily as the tiny flakes multiplied and spun around in dizzying patterns above you.    

“You weren’t kidding when you said you liked snowy nights,” Tenko said, observing your dreamy smile with soft eyes.  

“Yeah.  It’s as close as us city dwellers can really get to seeing a sky full of stars.  When I was a kid I would pretend that all the snowflakes in the sky were shooting stars, each of them racing as fast as they could to grant my wishes,” you admit bashfully, slightly embarrassed by your past whimsey.  

Tenko hummed thoughtfully as he gazed at the icy flakes darting through the sky.  

“They’re going to need to go faster than that if they want to beat me,” he said, dropping his head down to nuzzle into your neck.  “Because there isn’t anything in this universe that wants to grant your wishes more than I do.”  

“Is that so?” you giggle as Tenko buries his face under your coat collar, his chilly cheeks and warm puffs of air making your skin break out into delighted tingles.  

“Yes ,” Tenko sighed against your skin, mask bunched up over his nose as he layered kisses across your collarbone. 

“Well, that’s pretty convenient since all I find myself wishing for these days is you.”

“You should wish for something better.”

“I don’t think there is anything better,” you say as you comb your fingers through the loose strands of hair falling across Tenko’s forehead.  “Not for me, anyway.”  

Tenko’s arms tightened around your waist to an almost painful degree, like he was trying to pull you through his layers of flesh and sinew and into his chest; tucking you tightly into the space beside his heart, caged safely behind his ribs.  

And you were happy to let him try. 

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #tomura x y/n #tomura x reader #tomura x you #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x female reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x self insert #pigeoncoos🕊

[captain-sassy-socks]

#TFLN #Stargate SG-1 #Samantha Carter #Jack O'Neill #Daniel Jackson #what is queued endures

[huebris808]

trying to break out of my shell and post madcom hc shit aka Look At My One Of Many Weirdass Hank Ramblings, Boy

hank you know them. they're six-foot-something and wanted to try volleyball. they dont get sarcasm and refer to stuff as "thingys". they're the autistic power fantasy of throwing bricks at those who view you as subhuman. their bedroom's apparently just a mirror to practice cool poses with and a blanket and their favorite drink is eggs now according to the streams. and they are your new nonbinary president

im constantly fluctuating between Animation & MPN Are Two Different Timelines/Universes or They're The Same, But He’s Testing Which "Hank" Is More Favorable/Useful To Others

wasian hank truther baby. (jp+filipino-american)

this guy would probably use わたし/私 (ive seen a lot of artists use オレ/俺 for him though but i feel like its a bit?? much)

definitely had to pick up sign-language after [Vague Gesturing] All That

has autism in the way that they have No Clue they got it. like "damn i got [Specific Autistic Issues]. sucks that im so so normal and yet i must endure The Problems everyday"

speaking of autism, enjoys confined spaces sensory-wise. vents and boxes and shit like Come On Man. Do You See The Vision.

gonna be honest like half of the shit (Understatement) i got for hank is projection but what's madcom without that in some aspect!! that's the POINT man!!! [ON KNEES WAILING] that's the POINT

working in real estate and as a mercenary since The Incident made their self-worth go to SHIT; in a world that dehumanizes you, you are quick to dehumanize yourself. this is where the power of lesbian friendship comes in

subconsciously puts doc on a pedestal over time, leading to (See Bullet 1); this dissipates after they somehow reach a conversation of Bitch We Are Both Equals And Fighting For Our Fucking Lives Out Here THEY SOLVE SHIT TOGETHER MAN!!! THEY SOLVE IT

sorry. sorry. im trying to delete it

out of nowhere maybe its the Autistic Projection maybe its cause im allergic to Sadstuck Shit i dont dig negative stuff with 2bhank it just feels Wrong :-( i wish i could word this better but like. i need these little chesspiece fucks to learn to communicate

what i will refer to as the Newspaper Era (aka the time before we got doc characterization from arena mode) caused people to make some weirdass depictions of their relationship and im glad its phasing out. The Horrors

main 4 are all butch lesbians btw. not sorry about that one

also POLYCOMBAT TRUTHER this dude would HATE how vulnerable these three would make them feel at first. they're the first to actually treat him like A Guy and that fuck him up a bit initially

i think eventually they all reach a point where they're able to do stupid shit together like fireworks or breaking chairs over each other heads. you've seen how doc is don't exclude him from doing dumbass shit

"erm… actually they wouldnt be friends or have fun or date theyre ruthless criminals and madcom is cruel :/" L + ratio + the rule of The Funniest Thing Is The Answer in madcom prevails + That's The Devil Talking, Boy

shit at technology. if they had a blog their lack of skills would loop back around to make them the most powerful shitposter on earth

there's definitely more that im missing here and takes that Don't Suck (for example people need to put out more hankford content. Cmon Man) but my brain has this shit Queued Up in a way so. Yeah

#my ass is NOT maintagging this im Too Scared

[quitedisastrous]

my goal is to hit moon 25 tonight, which is about eight events/panels :Cat_Boom_Explode: wish me luck ultimate goal is to hit moon 26 by tomorrow and moon 28-30 by monday. maybe i'll hit moon 35 by then, maybe i'll only be hitting moon 25. who knows

#queued rambles #clangen: siltclan #this thing is fun but man is it a test of endurance with the moons that have like seven things happen #it's like stretching. or having zoomies. either way i'm curious as to how far this will get before it enters its first stasis period #(ie periods where i don't focus on it. like what milkwail is in right now for reference to my mommyclan followers) #(i will draw her again eventually. promise)

[httyddragonfox]

Ray/Saeran's regard towards MC

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Now we should look at Ray's route, this also goes into the after ending a little bit, but it's mainly repeating what we've seen before, so I won't go into it that much.

The first real difference is during the branch, Ray remembers how unpleasant the elixir was to take and realizes that he doesn't want you to endure that. Why does this happen? Ray loves you in the other route as well. In this route, you've shown more signs of wanting to stay with him despite the lack of elixir, this wasn't as present in V's route which is why he took drastic measures. Ray realizes he doesn't need to brainwash you if you're going to be with him anyway, in the V route he probably knew deep down that you wanted to leave. So Ray tells you himself that he was lying to you over the past few days and that the RFA are in fact real. You're not as upset with him in this version, probably because he's choosing to be honest with you now and no real damage was done. Of course V shows up, and Ray freaks out, thinking he's a threat to us. V changes his tune and decides to try to save Saeran in this route, mainly because we're in no immediate danger. The real turning point is that Ray decided not to drug us.

Instead of the savior supporting Ray's efforts against V, like in the last route, instead she berates him for letting this happen. Probably because in the last route he took more affirmative action against V when he showed up, and here he just froze. She gives him much more elixir than before, and he continues to berate himself, thinking he's not good enough. That's including us; the savior officially welcomed us, giving us a card to access the facilities and walk freely. She also seems to be thinking about giving us a more important position once we're done with the party. Ray actually sees us less, only really coming to see us to give us some fake elixir in case we're forced to drink it. The thing is, he thinks because he let V interact with us, he put us in danger; because he didn't do more to stop him, he's not good enough for us.

In the bad relationship ending, we're drugged, and we have trouble recognizing people (I believe is part of the brainwashing process, as it happened to V and Zen as well). Ray is just kicking himself, for being unable to protect us. In the 1st bad ending, we have constantly convinced Ray is best and can be better from working, and so he's self-sacrificial towards us, calling us his goddess. Ray wanted to be better for us, and we convinced him this was it.

Of course, in order to convince him we love him, and that he's not short-coming in any way, we kiss him. He's quite moved by this, and a little shocked: "Our lips touched." He seems very innocent, but he says we are free to do it again as much as we want, so he enjoyed it. Of course the "savior" says the best thing for him would be to put him under, so he could be more effective. Saeran then comes out, and the first thing he does after a wardrobe change is to visit us. He wants to see what we're about. You are queued in that he is different, especially when he says he won't devote himself to you. He explains that he is another side of Ray, in fact he's more of the real one, and we're never going to see Ray again. He calls us an airhead, and mocks the idea that we think we're a princess. He then pins us to the wall, and tells us he hates the way we smell (Then why are you getting up close, dummy!). He tells us that everything about us gets on his nerves, he hates our eyes especially, maybe he should blindfold us. He then blames us for trying to get rid of him by being nice to Ray. He claims we were using him as our puppet, and that we're an idiot for trying. He demands that we entertain him, show him an interesting face, such as sadness or anger. When we tell him to let us go, he laughs at us, and claims we're disastrous and from a world of fairy tales. He claims we're stupid and good for nothing. He tells us if we know our place, we'll be silent like the grave, and not even let him notice us breathing. We get on his nerves by trembling, so he threatens to bite our head off, and so he bites us on the neck. Was it blood drawing bite or a hickie? Who knows? We try to push him away, but he's just amused that he scared us. Similar with Jaehee's bad ending, he says we shouldn't freak out because he's barely begun. He decides to check the next day to see if the marks last, so it's not that deep. He tells us we have to be interesting and fun if he's going to spend time with us. This is where we start crying, and he just wants to see us get angry. He wants us to provoke him so that he could play with us. Of course he gets bored, so he lets us go. He claims to have more "fun" with us if we make trouble, like begging for help from the RFA. If we do so, we'll be cleansed, and he knows how to make it really painful. He debates actually telling the savior we're bad so he could do it, but since we're quiet he gives up on playing with us. He leaves, telling us he'll be back when he's bored. He then tells the nearby believers that nothing is to go inside our room, and that we are forbidden to leave. We have become a prisoner.

Why is he so mean to us here? The other routes he's still a danger to us, but he's not mean. The evidence is right above here, he thinks we're a threat to his survival. He's been brainwashed to believe that part of him is essential, but we've been telling him he's fine the way he is. So he's lashing out at us. In the other routes there's no threat of us changing him "for the worst," so he's not as mean. If anything, in the other routes he's more capable of changing us for the worst.

He spends the next couple of days heavily abusing us, [Examples listed here], the savior comes in and tells us, "So sad for you, enjoy being tormented." Why is she choosing to let this happen? Well most believers have to go through training anyway, this might as well be ours. She's not as interested in us in this route, because V isn't as interested in us. When V was interested in us, she thought we were similar enough that we could understand her. In her words here, she says that we need to be the weak one in order for Saeran to be strong, it's all for his sake. You question why more believers don't have this dynamic, but you see Saeran has a lot of authority at Mint Eye, he has certain privileges, also again, this is training for us.

Saeran tells us not to tell the RFA, because obviously this isn't good; deep down he knows that. He's acting this way because he believes it's right. He also spends a lot of time pretending to be Ray, either to make Ray seem more pathetic, make us seem pathetic for liking him, or to get certain "favors" from us. He comes to our room disappointed we're not putting up more of a fuss, guessing it's because we were starved. Then he takes the time after insulting us to vent towards us about the RFA situation. We can either try to reassure him, or tell him he's over reacting, either way he snaps at us for either not doing enough or for talking back. We try to put some distance between us and him and he then tackles us to the ground, pinning us there. He calls us his prey who he has now trapped. We try either appeasing him or calling out for help, because we are terrified. He tells us that the only thing we should say to him is "Yes," we can either appease him or say nothing. Appeasing him has him tell us he's doing a good thing reminding us of our place, but saying nothing makes him aggravated. When he tells us our only purpose is to entertain him, we can either appease him or defy him by calling out for Ray. Defying him makes him consider gagging us because he doesn't like our voice, but appeasing him has him say we should use a certain honorific with his name, which I think is nim which basically means master (equivalent to Japanese sama or dono). He wants you to see him as above you, and wants you to devote yourself to him. He goes on to say we need to do a better job cleaning ourselves because we still smell the same. We get interrupted, which he says is lucky for us, then backtracks and says he'll just make the next encounter worse.

The party gets suspended, so we get taken off the task. We are no longer allowed to talk to the RFA, only Saeran and Rika. Saeran has full custody of us, allowed to get rid of us should he see fit, allowed to do with us as he pleases. He has a camera installed in our room to see us at all times, taking away our privacy. Rika asks him why he doesn't just get rid of us, and he says he can still find fun things for us to do, he likes seeing us suffer. He says the RFA is moving forward without us, not even needing us. Of course we know it's a lie. We eventually get to talk to Rika and figure out that she is the mastermind behind all of this. She says we brought this suffering upon ourselves, because we refuse to be strong like they are; that includes hurting others before we ourselves get hurt. Saeran claims that once they bring over the RFA they will also learn how pathetic we are. We can point out that the RFA won't be defeated, he nonchalantly points out that they'll just be cleansed if they refuse. Rooting for RFA over Mint Eye makes him see you as a traitor, but he says that doesn't change anything. You'll still be his toy no matter what you do. He tries to taunt you over your hunger by sharing a picture of his food, if you don't enter the chat room he tries to bribe you with it (of course, knowing him it would probably be a lie). He then decides to make you uncomfortable by making you kiss him.

He comes into your room, mocking your love for Ray. He says since you didn't get up immediately to see "the face you love so much" you must not actually love him. You could either say he isn't Ray, or tell him not to mock you. He says he may not be Ray, but at least he shares his body, so that should be enough. If you snap back to him, he gives you a kudos for your love staying strong. He then gets into your personal space (why else would the CG be that close up) and says you probably want to kiss it, he's pretending to be Ray so you can go ahead. If you don't he'll just have some fun with you in the basement and then get rid of you, whatever that means. Will he torture us, r*** us, both? Doesn't seem good either way. Now you can kiss him, or you can push him away, it doesn't really matter because he starts snapping back when you do either. When Ray snaps back, he notices how thin we are and realizes that Saeran must've been hurting us. He apologizes profusely, saying he deserves to be thrown away for such actions. When we tell him that it was Saeran, not him, he explains to us that Saeran is his birth name. Ray was created from the weakest parts of himself balled up to excised and shouldn't even exist. This anger and hatred, it is a very real part of himself, but he is also scared, Saeran is also scared, with us around he wasn't... he cuts himself off, telling us to leave before Saeran comes back and hurts us again. He then runs off.

Funny enough, in V's route Rika acts like it was a good thing to keep Saeran under, but then again she was talking to Ray at the time. In this route she acts like either one of them is good in their own ways; Ray is dutiful, while Saeran is strong.

Saeran comes into the next chat-room freaking out, wondering what we did to bring Ray back. He gets so fed up with us, he decides at the end of the chat that he's going to get rid of us. We then have a talk with Rika who says that Ray only came back because Saeran had a moment of weakness with us. Was it because he liked kissing us? Was it because we took him by surprise with us pushing him away? Maybe with the push Ray realized we were in trouble? To that degree, she decides to make our death a big ceremony, and use the special elixir on us. Yay? Everyone is going to celebrate our overdose. Saeran keeps talking about how painful it will be for us, and how once we're gone he'll get a better assistant, trying to make us suffer with prospects of the future. He is frustrated his savior won't let him take part, and we tell him what she said. He denies it and says he's going to see us before our final moments, as much as he wants and no one can stop him. Of course, he's denied entry. Rika soothes him and stops him from hurting believer on guard by telling him he's the strongest believer she has. This makes him forget his rage for a moment. He contacts us later and says what his savior told him and we should take pride we belong to him. We try to warn him he's being used, but he won't listen. He seems to be debating with himself if he actually wants us gone or not.

The 2nd Bad Ending comes up because we let Saeran get away with his abuse towards us, and reassured him on his beliefs. He takes away our phone after a cruelly tricking us into thinking Ray had returned. He's actually happy that we don't like Saeran. The point of all of this is that we're miserable. We suddenly break and just don't have any hope anymore. Later he's seen to give us gifts, only to cruelly take them away from us, calling us undeserving. We're starved to a certain extent, and he keeps telling us about a new "girlfriend" he'll have, who'll be better than us in every way. Of course, there's hope for us if we can satisfy him. Of course, what we do is never enough. He then leaves us alone for a long time, implying it's not the first time he's done it.

So, what do we know of Saeran so far? He wants to believe he's strong, and much better than Ray is. He resents that part of himself, so he's not happy with you for liking it. He's trying to prove to you he's the strong one. He does this by being forceful around you, depriving you of everything so you have no choice but to rely on him and accept him as he is. Of course he's also envious of Ray, as why else would he use him to force a kiss from us. It could be a way of showing that he owns us, but there's a point I need to make later. Why do we have to be miserable in the 2nd bad ending though? In other routes it wasn't necessary that we were miserable. I believe this all has to do with Ray, which is a point I'll make later.

Eventually he gets frustrated with how things are. He makes his way to our room and forces his way in. He snaps at us saying we better show ourselves to him, if we try to calm him down, he snaps at us for caring about him and talking back; if we ask if he wanted to see us, he just says he had to make sure we were okay for our death. He is rather frustrated though, because we're his toy so why does he get to sit out with what happens to us. Our best use would be for him to finish "playing" with us and then throwing us out himself. We try to contribute, but he barks at us to be quiet and just nod to what he says. He then starts flashing back to his mother, reminded of the abuse she inflicted on him. Despite us not saying anything, he snaps at us saying he's not like her. He keeps flashing back to his mother's abuse, and even to his own savior's abuse. He then snaps and attacks us, grabbing us tightly by the arms. He claims he's going to kill us then and there, because he's the strong one, and demands we cry out in pain. If we say nothing, he continues demanding it. If we say it's painful, then he's a bit ecstatic, happy at the pain he's causing us. If we call we strong it's the same result. He says he has to cause us pain, because whenever he does he feels a little better about his own life, and if we disappear then that cold grayness in his life will persist. We can either beg him leave with us, or tell him that even if he kills us he won't be saved. Either way he snaps at us, telling us that we don't know anything, or we'll probably just leave him if he leaves with us.

So why are we so miserable in the 2nd bad ending? It's because Saeran realizes deep down his life is not great, unlike in the other routes where we didn't make him feel like he could have a life outside with us. In other routes, he's trying to convince us he's not all bad, and life in Mint Eye is good. In this route we have to be miserable because it will prove we were wrong. Ray is weak, and therefore we're weak too.

Rika is shocked over what happened. She decides that we're better left alive for the time being, and postpones our ceremony until Saeran can be found. She also tries to keep an eye on our room in case Saeran returns there, but discovers he put a lock on the camera monitor so only he can use it. She then offers us a high position if we were to turn over Saeran should we see him again. Saeran is hiding in the garden, and plans to be agressive with whomever comes for him. V then defends him, and begs him to leave Mint Eye with him and the us, as we're also worried about him (He met us earlier to give us food and update us on the RFA). Saeran thinks of maybe turning V in or killing him, but when he thinks about what would happen to us if we left, he realizes we'd be much happier. This is where he realizes that Mint Eye isn't a paradise, and how cruel he has been to us. He tells V that he should take us and leave. Saeran then spends the next chat room talking about how he's questioning everything he believes and he's now vomited out all the elixir he's drank (hyperbole, as he literally can't). He then comes to visit us as we're sleeping, and promises us he won't hurt us ever again. He explains that all the insults he threw at us were things he thought about himself: stupid, useless, an airhead. All those times he insulted our smell, our eyes, anything about us, he never meant it. He explains that he wanted to get closer to us, but at the same time he was afraid and he wanted to put distance between us. He actually admires us, because we refused to be pushed around by him, yet we were never cruel to him, to him we're actually very strong. He just didn't want to believe it. He tried to hurt us, but in the end he was the only one getting hurt. He actually admits Ray would be a better person for us, because although he's timid ('a chicken' in his words), he would never think of harming us. In a phone call, he asks us who we would leave with, and no matter what we say, he says we should pick Ray. He promises to leave and Ray will come back instead.

Rika is shocked that Saeran would admit such things, but now that he's back and that Ray is going to be back, she'll have a better time controlling him. Overall, she's decided she's not going to kill us, instead she's just going to cleanse us. It's easier to control Saeran and Ray that way. Saeran has a flashback, where he made a promise to his brother to always be himself and never change for anyone. When he wakes up, Rika starts drilling him with plans to induct the RFA, but he realizes he doesn't want to be there anymore. He confronts her by saying that Mint Eye isn't a paradise, it's a machine she runs so she has the excuse of feeling good about herself whilst treating people like how her parents treated her. True paradise is being with the one who makes him happy. She snaps at him, saying she'll cleanse him, she'll banish him, and then realizes what she's saying and then apologizes, begging him not to leave. She also realizes he's not Ray, but he's not exactly Saeran either. Saeran then leaves.

There is a bad ending where you join Mint Eye as Rika's #2, using Saeran as a puppet king. He's willing to do so as long as you're happy.

In the Bad relationship ending, your ceremony happens. You have trouble recognizing people and Saeran has trouble recognizing himself. He feels terrible that he couldn't save you and decides to put you somewhere safe, that being the apartment.

In the game proper, he actually saves you before they come to get you for your ceremony. He comes in through the window (classic Saeran), and you land in the garden. He tells you that he is both Saeran and Ray now. It took him a while to realize what he actually wanted out of life and that Mint Eye was not a great place for him, but he has you to thank for helping him come to terms with himself. After sharing a tender moment with him, where he promises to treasure you for the rest of his life, he leaves with you to the safe house. When you're safe, you tell Saeran that his brother is missing. Saeran still has some lingering resentment for him, but he realizes most of it is misplaced and he's hoping to have a relationship with him again. The RFA is informed about Saeran's situation, and they ask him to help in the effort to find his brother. Even though he doesn't want to pursue a life in hacking, he does want to save his brother, so he agrees to do it.

In the Good ending, they have Zen reveal all of the prime minister's misdeeds and that his sons are in trouble, also detailing the life they lived. Later they visit their old home to find evidence about Saeyoung, as he was held there for a few days. Saeran has a bit of an anxiety attack upon entry, so you leave with him so he can cool his head. This is where you give him back the bookmark he had as a child (symbolizing his bond with Saeyoung). He again thanks you for everything, as he never would have even considered this path (leaving Mint Eye, trying to reconnect with his brother) without you.

In the Normal Ending, the broadcast doesn't happen, so in order to protect Saeran, Jumin decides to relocate him and us onto a private island, the only condition to be to catalog the plants there. So Saeran and us end up living on that island for a whole year, Saeran talks about each season he spent with us, as well as the fact that Mint Eye and Seven's organization have disappeared. He even mentions how he made us angry on purpose one time just to see how we'd react. He's willing to spend as many seasons with us, no matter where we live, no matter where we go.

So, final thoughts... his final form considers you an angel, his form of paradise. He treasures you and is curious about you, he sees as you as the light that lit up his dark world. He sees you as an honest being, being true to yourself but also letting him realize the truths about himself.

Ray wants to devote himself to you and make you happy to be with him. Suijin Kang diagnosed him with Borderline Personality Disorder, so therefore that would mean he's heavily attached to you, idolizes you, and wants to do right by you. The problem is he sees himself as less.

Saeran is complicated. He likes you, but he doesn't want to show it. He feels threatened by your interest in him, so he decides to approach you while also keeping himself away; he chooses to do this by abusing you. He wishes to prove again and again that your views are wrong about who he should be, that way you can't threaten him anymore.

Next we get into the After ending, this gives us some more insight on how his final personality regards you. There are so many different bad ends here, I might not go through all of them.

It starts with a meeting within the RFA to discuss plans to find and save Saeyoung from the Prime Minister. Of course V comes in, and Saeran's suspicious of him, warning you not to take in his "perfume." V knocks out everyone in the group including us, but not Saeran. The hypothesis here is that he's resistant to the drug from Mint Eye which is what the gas was made of. Saeran is at a loss of what to do when we're asleep, just wanting us to be okay. When we wake up, he professes his love for us, and says that now that we're okay he can think clearly about what to do. We obviously take top priority to him.

We decide to go to the address V gave him, and it turns out to be the apartment. Saeran scouts it out, and we decide to head in the next morning. Meanwhile, Rika and V get a hold of the chat room, claiming that everything they're doing is to protect Saeran and Saeyoung. So, Saeran makes a separate chat-room for us and Saeyoung to access, realizing Seven's agency is attacking the messenger and also getting a hold of Vanderwood, asking for his help in saving Saeyoung.

Saeran admits that everything and everyone is changing around us, but we are the heart of these changes. We allow Saeran to maintain the control he has over his strong and weak selves. The angry him had a strong heart and obsession, while the gentle him showed him he had understanding and talent. We however awakened his desire for freedom. He loves us, even the parts he cannot see. He'd have lost his way if not for us. We are his faith. Like his brother, he'd sacrifice his life for us.

Later that night he talks to us while we're asleep, admitting that he's afraid going back to his old tactic of hurting others before he himself got hurt, but he has learned how good love is so he doesn't wish to fall back into hatred. When he feels himself getting lost again, he will think of our love. The fact he loves us will always remain true, even when everything else is a misunderstanding. Faith gives him power, and power brings miracles, like us.

Over the other chat-rooms, we learn about V's mom, and Rika wanting a family relationship with the twins again. We even have a discussion on starting a family of our own, Saeran admitting that all he knows is he'll really love us during that time. So we are unable to save Saeyoung, but the two brothers at least meet, Saeyoung is okay with sacrificing himself so Saeran can be free. Saeyoung is then sent to stay with Rika and V. Vanderwood then brings us to them as well, where he was actually supposed to bring Saeran to them. Saeyoung then develops a counter plan to set us both free so Saeran would not have to give up his freedom, however he's caught. Saeran ends up developing a counter plan even before coming to us. Of course once he comes to where we are, Rika has him chained up like when he was young to keep him from going anywhere. Despite his capture, he reassures us he loves us and he's willing to do anything for us. Despite everything he's going through, he'll be alright as long as we're with him. We decide to spend as much time as possible before the MC has to be sent away. Of course, Rika gets furious with him that he isn't how he used to be. How Saeran is trying to be understanding and forgiving of her, she wants him to get angry and lash out at her. Saeran admits the last time he allowed himself to be like that he hurt someone he cared about. He'll never forgive himself for what he did to us. Now he's trying his best to understand and show compassion, instead of hurting before he gets hurt, because he realized it's not the way to go. Rika apologizes for her behavior and agrees to get him ice cream.

When she returns, they decide to let him go, and V tells him the truth about what happened to his mother. Saeran meets us in private, and tells us he has an escape plan prepared for us to escape with Saeyoung, but we realize he's planning on sacrificing himself. We beg him not to leave us, but instead he just tells us that he'll love us even as he dies, and even after he dies. He'll always be watching over us. He meets with V and Rika, where Rika apologizes for what she did to his mother. Saeran admits that his mother was uncontrollable, but he still loved her, and he also admits that he was just a diversion so we could escape with Saeyoung.

Once Saeyoung is free, he works tirelessly to set about saving his brother from his father. We agree to go save Saeran, and take Jumin's driver with us. We meet up with Rika and she apologizes for her behavior towards us as well as Saeran, she only did those horrible things to other people as a means to protect herself. She was actually was jealous of our innocence, and thanks us for not giving up on her, she then begs us for forgiveness. Then we go with her and V to go save Saeran, who is being confronted by his father, all while recalling his love for us. We could save him, or not. If we don't save him we get the normal ending, if we do save him we get the Golden ending.

There's also a couple bad endings, one where you abandon everything to live free with Saeran, leaving Saeyoung to his fate. That one he says all that matters now is that he loves you. There's also one where you have him become a spokesperson for his father, that one he says he's not sure if he's happy, but he does love you. The bad relationship ending has Rika twist things so that it seems we left him to die, and that she will love and protect him from now on. She demands that he no longer speak of us, and he says his heart is no longer with him.

In the normal ending, Rika and V are the ones to save Saeran (as well as Driver Kim). Everything goes back to normal, with the exception that Rika, V and the Prime Minister are in prison. Saeran has decided to pursue a path in life that allows him grow flowers. He once again expresses his love for us and thanks us for allowing him to live a normal life with us. He expresses a desire to create a happy family with us and dedicate his life towards us. He then proposes to us, promising to make us happy everyday.

In the Golden Ending, we're the ones who end up saving Saeran. Saeran expresses his desire to be happy with us, wishing to see us one last time, once that wish is fulfilled, all that will be is pure love for us. When we find Saeran, Rika lets us go save him. We cling onto Saeran and demand he doesn't leave us. "Oh, my stupid reckless love, now I can't die," is his response. The prime minister plans to pin the blame entirely on us if Saeran dies, however we confront him saying he will not get away with what he's doing. We also tell him the only reason he can feel okay with hurting others is because he doesn't feel loved and is all alone. He must've had a really hard past. He then tells us that in order to get what one wants they have to be cruel. Saeran before total blackout embraces his father and expresses pity for him. We rush Saeran to the hostpital, and RFA escapes the hot water they were in, Saeyoung will never forgive his father even if Saeran had. Once he wakes up, he's willing to be a real brother to him. The prime minister then visits us, and thanks us for getting through to him, agreeing to leave us alone so we can live our lives. Everyone then gets their happy ending and then some, Jumin is in Politics, Jaehee is his assistant, Zen is becoming a big time stage actor, Vanderwood returned home, Rika and V are serving time, and Yoosung learning to become a Chef in france. We are with both the Choi twins who thank us for finding them, and now we can live happily together whilst being free.

So, more final thoughts... Saeran in his true form, loves us and idolizes us to an extreme level. Borderline personality disorder is coming into view here. He's placing us up on this pedestal, however unlike the disorder, he's not going to hate us at a moment's notice. He's choosing not to pursue that path.

[Conclusion]

#Mystic messenger #mystic messenger another story #mystic messenger V #Mystic Messenger Saviour #Mystic Messenger Rika #mystic messenger ray route #mystic messenger ray #mystic messenger saeran #V #Rika #Saviour #Ray #Saeran #Mystic Messenger Ray After ending #Ray after ending #Saeran choi #saeyoung choi #Mystic Messenger analysis #character analysis

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Kalim?

I actually had my Kalim Character Opinion Bingo queued up 😂

***Standard disclaimer: These are just my personal opinions of the character(s); regardless of what I may think of them, sharing my thoughts is NOT meant to offend or to shame anyone that thinks differently.***

This is probably a very unpopular opinion, but Kalim is my favorite dorm leader. Among the roster of students, he really is the “odd one out”. Unlike his peers, Kalim doesn’t seem to hold any kind of overwhelming power, crushing aura, or intentional malice. He doesn’t operate in an underhanded way, either. He’s the genuine article, friendly and cheerful, someone that’s easy to approach and talk with, someone that’s eager to lend his support and even his finances if needed. Kalim is a leader that is truly well-loved, not feared, and that is reflected in how much his dorm members look up him, respect him, and feel entirely comfortable telling him about their troubles. It’s a nice change of pace seeing someone actually want to help, no strings attached unlike Octavinelle, and it leads to a lot of funny interactions in which people react to Kalim’s... oblivious, carefree, and overly trusting nature.

There’s an almost child-like naivety in Kalim, most likely as the result of growing up ultra-wealthy and sheltered, so he has no idea about how the real world works. He also relies on Jamil to do a lot of things for him, and admittedly, I find the lack of self-sufficiency not very appealing. However, Kalim has demonstrated a willingness to learn and to improve himself, especially post-episode 4, so I have faith that with a little elbow grease and proper instruction, Kalim can do it! I would love it if we could see Kalim grow out of his rich boy roots and broaden his horizons. Sure, the world may not glisten like the gold he has grown up surrounded by, but it would be extremely valuable for him to be exposed that which doesn’t glitter--so that maybe he can help not just the people immediately around him, but those out in the world, too.

I think that Kalim is usually perceived as not that deep because of how happy-go-lucky he is. However, that would be disregarding all of the hardships he has endured up until this point in his life. Kalim has never had to worry about money a day in his life, but he certainly has had to worry about attempts on his life every second of every day--and I can’t imagine what that must do to a kid’s psyche. Unfortunately, we never really hear too much about how Kalim feels about these assassination attempts, but I think that him just speaking so nonchalantly about them tells us all we need to know. It’s routine. He barely bats an eye at them anymore... but that doesn’t mean that they haven’t cut him and hurt him deeply.

If you look at Kalim’s official profile, his least favorite food is curry. Why is that? Because, as Kalim tells us in-game, Jamil once taste-tested a curry dish for him--a dish which had been spiked with poison. That curry put him in a coma for several weeks, during which Kalim was at a very real risk of losing someone he thought of as a close childhood friend. What must have been going through Kalim’s head in that moment? Pain, sadness, confusion, fear, guilt. He couldn’t bring himself to look at curry the same ever again... something he still says with a smile. It makes me think that all the happiness that Kalim projects outward may be just a coping mechanism for him to deal with the daily threat of being killed, and the unconscious thought of how many others he must have endangered just with his existence. Any other person would be somber, always on high alert--but Kalim isn’t, because how can anyone he’s with have a good time if he isn’t? He has to play the part of a happy host, chasing away the looming threat so that even he, for just a moment, can pretend like he’s living in a dream. That may be entirely speculation on my part, but I think it’s an interesting angle to observe Kalim’s character from.

There’s two major popular takes about Kalim floating around in the fandom. The first of these is that he is incompetent or somehow unfit for his position. This belief is mainly derived from Kalim’s poor academic performance, as well as something that Jamil drops in episode 4: that Kalim got the seat of dorm leader via nepotism and large donations the Asim family made to NRC. The bribing part might be true, but I wholeheartedly believe that Kalim DOES embody the mindfulness of the Sorcerer of the Desert, and that he doesn’t lack intelligence. On the contrary, Kalim is incredibly socially intelligent--Leona even points it out as a strength of Kalim’s in episode 6--and he unintentionally knows how to wield it well to forge strong relationships with others. This is an incredible skill for a merchant or a businessman to have; Kalim can make connections with people and create what is essentially a network of buddies to help him out of any and every situation, and he doesn’t even REALIZE the power he has. That’s scary in its own way--can you imagine how terrifying that power would be in the hands of someone that DOES have ill intent?

Now, the second belief that’s pretty popular is that Kalim has done no wrong. While I’m not saying that I think Kalim is secretly an evil mastermind, to think that he has done “no wrong” implies he is totally innocent and has never done anything bad in his entire life. In my opinion, Kalim has hurt people, and in a way that’s more insidious than you may think. He hurts people through his words without even realizing it. Like Rook, Kalim is brutally honest--but unlike Rook, Kalim has zero self-awareness. As a result of that lack of a filter, Kalim unintentionally says things that can offend other people (ie when he commented that Riddle tires fast, implying he has low stamina)--and because he’s so candid about it, it can somehow sting all the more. I can see some people easily dismissing this because Kalim doesn’t hurt others on purpose, but I disagree because hurt is still hurt, whether intentional or not. I do believe that Kalim would apologize afterwards once he realized his mistake or if someone were to express that they were offended by him, but that still doesn’t change the damage he did, or the fact that he wasn’t able to stop it from happening in the first place. It’s the same principle that made Jamil resent Kalim so much: his obliviousness to the suffering of others, and the naivety to believe that every problem has a simple solution. I don’t necessarily blame Kalim in his entirety for this; it’s an obvious area of weakness for him, and something that can be improved with time and experience. He should still, however, be held accountable and own up to his mistakes (which, again, I think he will more readily do than the other NRC boys would).

#Kalim Al-Asim #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #ask game #character opinion bingo #spoilers

[junkshop-disco]

Books!! Thanks to @magicalrocketships for the tag 💖

An estimate of how many physical books I own: I have two floor-to-ceiling walls of books, and random piles elsewhere, so probably somewhere between 750 and 1000? I'm always scouring charity shops and flea markets for interesting books.

Favorite author: is there anyone who can pick just one? Oscar Wilde, Virginia Woolf, Paul Auster, Ali Smith, Graham Greene, Margaret Atwood, Kurt Vonnegut, off the top of my head.

A popular book I've never read and never intend to read: never say never and all that, but it'll be a cold day in hell when I crack open a Thomas Hardy voluntarily.

A popular book I thought was just meh: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norell. I wanted so badly to like it, but it was a struggle just making it through the first couple of chapters and I gave up.

Longest book I own: I do have War & Peace, Vanity Fair, and Bleak House, all of which are an endurance workout for the wrists. I also have The Norton Anthology of Poetry, which is a compilation of most poets and poems, ever, which is a struggle to get off the shelf.

Longest series I own all the books to: is the wider Terry Pratchett universe considered a series? If so, those.

Prettiest book I own: I have an early edition of Virginia Woolf's diary which has a cover illustrated by Vanessa Bell. I'm very fond of the design of that.

A book or series I wish more people knew about: I really wish more people had read the Widdershins books by Jordan L Hawk, so I had someone to exclaim 'but what about the bit when the librarians [spoilers]!!!' to while they yell back 'Christine my beloved!!'. So that's my rec, if anyone is looking for a series of, say, 11 books packed with magical historical fantasy shenanigans featuring archaeologists, but also aliens (no, really), that doesn't take itself too seriously but also delivers more convincing magical world building than a lot of books that do.

Book I’m reading now: I just finished The Half-life of Valery K and I'm halfway through a book of Emily Dickinson poems. I think I have a romance queued up next for a bit of a breather. Maybe a KJ Charles.

Book that’s been on my TBR list for a while but I still haven’t gotten around to it: my TBR is like four shelves high. The one that gives me the greatest pang of regret every time my gaze alights upon it is probably The World Broke In Two, which is about the impact of WWI on art and writing.

Do you have any books in a language other than English: I have some Spanish copies of Lorca I think.

Paperback, hardcover or ebook?: I mix it up. I usually buy secondhand books when I'm buying physical copies so I'll go with whatever looks in the best condition, but most of my actual reading I do on my Kindle because I don't put the lights on in the evening to help with my insomnia and real books don't have handy self-adjusting ambient lighting.

#books #if anyone fancies this #consider yourself tagged

[jakeperalta]

I went to a show a few weeks back and I thought I could be brave enough to endure a 3.5 hour concert standing the whole time but my ass was totally wrong. It takes a toll on your body to be standing for that long, it doesn’t matter what kind of physical shape you’re in. I was cramping a bit at night. Standing room is crazy.

especially considering you might be like queuing for merch, queuing to get in early for a good spot, standing all through the opening acts before the show even starts and all in possibly very warm weather.... I would be exhausted!!

#answered #anonymous