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bella-goths-wife · 26 days

Text

Angel and Charlie talk about pet reader

Warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of SA, mentions of death, mentions of drug use, mentions of body image and starvation

“Heyyy angel” Charlie said with a try hard nonchalant tone that only showed her clear desperation as she sat next to him at the bar “how’s it going?”

Angel dust raised one questioning eyebrow before giving a subtle look to husk with the clear intention of getting him to leave for a moment. The barkeep let out an annoyed huff before placing angels drink in front of him and leaving to lock himself away with a bottle of whiskey for the night.

“You wanna talk ‘bout her” angel asked but his tone made it sound more like a statement “about pet”

“Whattt” Charlie exclaimed with an overly exaggerated disbelief “noooo”

Angel narrowed his eyes at Charlie with a very clear unconvinced look before taking a swig of his drink.

“Okay, maybe I want to talk about her” Charlie admitted with a sigh before looking at angel dust with a more hopeful look “will you tell me about her”

Angel thought it over before sighing and taking another drink.

“Okay” angel said hesitantly “what do you wanna know?”

“Is her name really pet?” Charlie asked quickly, glad for the opportunity to satisfy the curiosity that had built up in her for a few days now since she met you

“No” angel answered with a shake of his head “that just what the Vs call her”

“What’s her real name?” Charlie asked curiously

Angel goes to answer but something stops him as his mouth hangs open for a moment before closing and opening again.

“Y’know, i actually don’t know” angel realises with a confused look “no one does I think, we all just call her pet or kid”

Charlie has a look of disbelief at the lack of knowledge of your basic information before asking a question.

“What’s she like?” Charlie asked carefully, treading carefully after angel dusts fragile realisation

“…..quiet” angel answers after a few moments thought “but not in like the usual introverted way, more like a scared child way”

“Scared?” Charlie questioned with a confused look “scared of what”

“The Vs, Charlie” angel answers with a sigh “she’s scared of the Vs”

Charlie thinks about it for a few moments before her expression turns somber

“What do they do to her?” Charlie asks carefully “do they hurt her?”

“That and more” angel answers with a scoff “let’s just say their preference for her doesn’t make them less cruel”

“How do they hurt her?” Charlie asks with a concerned tone “is it similar to what happens to you”

“No thank fuck, their relationship with her stops her from going into my situation” angel says with he a grimace “Vox and velvette stick to the usual slappin’ around and so does Valentino, but let’s just say he doesn’t let her being only eighteen stop him from bein’ gross with her”

“That poor girl” Charlie sighs out with a sympathetic expression “how does she cope?”

“Rumour has it round the tower that every time she has a breakdown, they lace her food or drink with something to ‘relax’ her” angel says with a scoff “I’ve seen Valentino pop a few pills in her drink whenever he’s feeling like she’s due a punishment”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Charlie asks helplessly

“Unless you can figure out how to break soul contracts, there’s nothin’” angel states with a shrug “they have eyes on her all the time, the girl can’t even go to the bathroom without tellin’ one of them”

Charlie sighs and leans her head in her hands as she thinks about the situation before having an idea pop into her head and turning to angel dust with an excited expression.

“She could come here” Charlie says with an excited smile “like you did”

“And how you gonna do that?” Angel asks sarcastically “go into the tv station and ask Vox to pretty please let his pet move here?”

Charlie stays quiet but her excited smile gave all the conformation angel dust needed. He turns to Charlie with a desperate expression

“No, no, no, no” angel dust said desperately, his Italian accent becoming more prominent in his tone “you can’t Charlie”

“Why not” Charlie asks stubbornly

“That’s only gonna make things worse for her” angel tried to explain with a worried expression “you don’t understand Charlie, they have these rules in place for her-“

“I’m sure I can convince Vox to at least let her stay here at night and work during the day like you do” Charlie states, but she’s so far in her own mind concocting a plan that she might as well have been talking to herself “I could assure Vox that she would be safe here, and then they couldn’t hurt her”

“Charlie your not listening-“ angel dust tried to reason with her but is cut off

“Angel I can do this, I’ll be able to convince Vox” Charlie stated with a sure of herself expression “I’m gonna go there tomorrow! And who knows, she might be able to be redeemed”

Angel dust threw his hands up in defeat before finishing his drink and leaving for his room, he knew there was no getting through to Charlie when she had a plan in her head and she was determined.

But god did he hope you wouldn’t be punished to severely for her actions.

———————————————————————

Unbeknownst to either of the two demons, a certain radio demon had been listening to their exchange for some time now with a tight lipped grin.

He knew that the princess’s plan was foolish and could only end up with more severe isolation for you, it was extremely difficult to believe in the possibility that Vox would place you in the same facility where his nemesis was staying.

But he knew Charlie was blinded by her own desperate need to help and fix the demons around her problems, and while it was a lovely trait to have this was a delicate situation.

But no matter, the radio demon had already begun planning his own act of helping you escape the Vs thumb and place you under his instead.

He just needed time to figure out the logistics, and then you would be all his.

Tag list so far

@the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @repostingmyfavs @buttercupfangirl @corvid007 @fandomaddict505

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2023legendoflinkzine · 1 month

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Hi, I have a question about the donation breakdown regarding the charity. It currently says all proceeds will be donated to Doctors Without Borders—which is different than profits. As I understand it; profits account for covering the overhead cost, and proceeds are the entire amount received. If all proceeds are going to the charity, does this mean that whatever is purchased is the same as a 1:1 donation? Like, if I buy a $5 sticker pack, does the entirety of those $5 go to Doctors Without Borders? It sounds great, but I’m not sure how that’s possible.

Hello!

This is a wonderful question! Thank you for asking and giving us an opportunity to be transparent with where our money is going.

Profits and proceeds are indeed different, with profits defined as money made after production costs have been covered (as you said).

However, proceeds is a more vague term, and it doesn't have a singular definition. This is why you may see many non-profit organizations use the word "proceeds" rather than "profits" in legal material relating to their funds and donation processes. It often implies a more complex breakdown of charity funds than simply financial surplus.

Here is the answer to your core question: our goal is to raise $1,000 dollars for Doctors Without Borders. All money made up until the $1,000 mark will go directly to the charity, and not to us!

If we are blessed enough to hit our donation goal, a portion (no greater than 25%) of funds made past the $1,000 mark will go to help cover the cost of production.

If someone purchases a $75 bundle now, while we are still working towards the donation goal, all $75 dollars will go to Doctors Without Borders.

If someone purchases a $75 bundle past the $1,000 goal, and we are operating under the maximum 25% being invested back to production costs, $56.25 dollars will go to Doctors Without Borders, and $18.75 will be used to cover production costs. An announcement will be made on all social media platforms if we hit our donation goal, and it will include details on how the donations will see the above change.

Regarding how this is possible, I (Seeking7, the magazine organizer) have paid for all production costs from my personal bank account. I'm a uni student, but I've been working two jobs for the past year to help save, and while it would be nice to be partially compensated for production costs, it's not my priority at all.

I don't want to put all my eggs into one basket, but if we get past the 1k milestone, I will release a statement detailing the breakdown of all further funds. This will be displayed on the website so that interested patrons will be aware of where their money is going, and will be able to make an educated decision on whether they are interested in purchasing the zine.

Our website also includes a "Where Is My Money Going" tab that includes more details on where and how money will be handled!

In conclusion, we've used the word "proceeds" in the language of our donation because instead of using the money to cover production costs and then using profit to go to the charity, we're doing things in the opposite manner. Once we have hit our goal, then we will delegate a portion of further funds to helping alleviate the burden of production costs, but our highest priority is to raise money for a fantastic charity!

Let us know if you have further questions. We want all interested patrons to feel informed about how we are handling their money, and to be able to make an educated decision on whether or not to support us!

Thank you once again for the great question!

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dojae-huh · 2 months

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Hello! Just want to say again that I'm glad I found your blog, your down-to-earth commentary, especially about the business side of it all, is very much appreciated :)

Hi. Thank you for letting me know, I'm glad you find some more down to earth posts useful. In part, I run this blog to offer an alternative in fandom experience.

Thing is, we, as k-pop fans and as people who don't work in showbusiness or South Korea, don't have enough knowledge, experience or inside information to have a strong educated opinion on most of things when it comes to idol companies and their executives. We can have opinions as customers - I like this music, this promotional strategy works on me, these outfits are ugly, this concept rocks -, but not as business analytics. Especially considering how much media play, false information and difference in cultures we face.

However, nowadays everyone has the illusion that they know better, that their opinion and feelings are valid when it comes to any topic. And spread and defend their opinion like it is the ultimate truth.

I've recently come across a twit starting with "it appears that" and ending with "for sure". In a span of a few sentences the fan offered an imaginary scenario and finished with a "this is truth". Of course to "prove" that SM is evil, heh. Such baseless statements easily play on fans' love for their biases, evoke an emotional response, call to arms, they give an answer to "Who is to blame?!", provide a target for unleashing frustration and anger.

When one solo-stan blames our bias, we can call bullshit because we know how things really are. When a fan blames Chris Lee or SM, other fans are ready to accept the words as believeable. Either because they share the sentiment, or have no own opinion on the matter, so any will do. If everyone around says the same thing, it should be true, afterall? That's how our brains are wired: follow the majority, agree with the tribe, mirror everyone's current emotion.

We can't see the inner works and we don't know the inner rules, but we can see the results of labour and sometimes a reflection of things.

When I came to k-pop, I knew SM as the company that overworks its artists, has lawsuits with them, is super strict. Broken in two halves TVXQ and EXO with half of its members gone weren't a good representation. So when I started to get to know NCT better, I started to wonder if I was lied to or that something had changed in SM (the latter). Neos were taught how to songwrite, SM persisted with good quality music for NCT despite the group not taking off right away, artists not looking slavelike, there was SMstation and interesting projects.

Sure, I can observe bad work: poorly prepared concerts (Link), constant failures with album production (omitting Doyoung's name, boring designs for 127), tasteless stylists, etc. However, I also see good work: artists flying first/business class and living in 5 star hotels, being given opportunity to go to the beach, museums, to enjoy sightseeing in new countries; opportunity to explore one's creativity (soundcloud, NCTLabs, solo performances for Link); SM giving artists second professions (MC, variety host, model) that will aid professional longevity (Doyoung hasn't finished school and doesn't have a degree, but I'm not worried for him, even if SM collapses, he'll always find a job. Same for Taeyong, he came as a blank page, now he is a songwriter and a producer, he can even become a choreographer); neos progressively being given more choice and say, their opinion being consulted and their ideas being implemented once they gain enough experience (Golden Dust story, Taeyong making his own setlist for his concert, Doyoung saying Unity should not have solo-stages, Ten choosing the mood and genre for his solo, etc).

Most importantly, I can see many friendships between neos and producers/managers, and that Haechan and Doyoung, who experienced all of SM's downsides personally and not once, continue to like the company. Meaning, the good should outweight the bad. At least for now.

Fans learnt the name of Chris Lee and continue to blame him for everything to this day, although he doesn't own any shares in SM and has stopped being a CEO a year ago. He is a token scapegoat.

Should I blindly trust fans or should I go read Wikipedia, interviews and listen to the guy himself? In situations like these I always choose the latter.

Sure, I can't tell if he evades taxes or participates in shady business, and what neos think of him (aside from Doyoung calling him "hyung" in public and not being afraid of getting punished for it), but I can see he was the person who overlooked all the early NCT songs (we have "Limitless", "Cherry bomb" thanks to him); created SMStation and SMClassics (say thank you for "Try again", "Star blossom"); found Dem Jointz ("Kick it", "Punch", "Sticker") and multiple other songwriters who now work for SM; brought to Korea the idea of songwriting camps, in which Kun participates nowadays and where he befriends foreign creators; invested SM money into a publishing company (and not a winery or a hotel business), which means SM artists will be secured to have a lot of songs to choose from in the future, and Korean young producers will have access to the global market. He has been with SM close to 20 years, and he is evidently a music nerd, ergo he understands artists and their love for music. So why should I hate him? I have no proof of him taking money away from neos, but I have evidence he was very essential to formation of NCT and the quality of SM sound being maintained. On the contrary, I'm inclined to suspect the quality of albums (song setlist, production) is raising again because he is back to supervising A&R in SM.

#ask me away #food all around chips all around #notes in the margins #chain reaction

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farewelltoeden · 1 year

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Bear Hugs

summary: reon’s birthday occurs just shortly after the team learns a somewhat interesting fact about their dear wing spiker. his boyfriend plans accordingly.

tw: mention of blood, but in the context of semi being uncoordinated? another mention of blood in reference to carrie by stephen king. author is bad at endings.

a/n: i have a million asks sitting in my inbox and instead i’m writing a self indulgent fluff fic. not proofread ✌️ happy birthday to the best #4 fight me on it

________________________________________

as a child, ōhira reon never really celebrated his birthday. his parents didn’t see much of a need for it, and, being a child, he went with what his parents said. this was among the many usual childhood activities reon never got an opportunity to partake in.

it was a pretty average day when the team found out two shocking facts about reon. not only did he not celebrate his birthday (which was sad enough on its own!) no, it went further than that. something that got everyone down, even if he didn’t see it as much of a big deal himself. even ushijima was a little pouty.

“yeah, no. i don’t think i ever had a teddy bear.”

obviously, this could not be allowed to continue. though reon’s birthday wouldn’t occur until late october, eita’s plan went into effect way before that. making sure that everyone, along with whatever they wanted to gift ōhira themselves, had a teddy bear to give him. some picked out their own while others went to the (self appointed and titled) event coordinator for help. he was turning 18, and damn it, if he didn’t have one as a kid, he certainly wasn’t going to go into adulthood without them- and without people who wanted to celebrate him.

***

by the time his birthday actually rolled around, reon had entirely forgotten that he'd even said anything to the team about it in the first place. after all, his boyfriend was the only one who seemed truly appalled by the information in the first place. he woke up in the morning expecting some texts and birthday wishes throughout the day, endless excitement and attention from eita, probably a present or two, based on past experiences. he couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed when he checked his phone to see no new messages (even from semi!), but he wouldn’t say anything. as always, it wasn’t a big deal to him.

what he didn’t expect, after he brushed his teeth and got ready for his day, was to open the door of his little shiratorizawa dorm room to come face to face with ushijima. who looked like he’d been up for hours, by the way. meanwhile, he was still bleary eyed and exhausted. “hi..?”

“good morning, ōhira.” ushijima greeted, regarding the other with a small smile before holding out a neatly wrapped box. “this is for you.”

reon took the box, looking between it and ushijima himself before smiling in return. “oh, wow. thank you! you really didn’t have to-”

“it’s your birthday.” he was interrupted rather promptly with the matter-of-fact statement from the captain. “it’s your birthday, and you deserve to have your birthday celebrated just like the rest of us.” he continued, patting his shoulder. “so.. i hope you have a good day. i’ll see you later.” he nodded, turning on his heel and walking off down the hall. he smiled to himself, only just slightly. the other seemed happy to receive the gift.

“okay- well, thank you again!” he called after him, letting himself smile fully now that there were no eyes on him. he slipped back inside the room to open the box privately, almost feeling bad as he tore the pristine wrapping. the guilt quickly subsided when he saw what was inside, though. among an assortment of sweets and candy sat a smiling face, staring up at him with brown plastic eyes. he picked the object up in disbelief, marveling at the softness of the black fur and how damn cute it was. it even had little paw prints on the feet! it was about the size of a football, he’d say, and he hugged it to his chest with the biggest smile.

his very own teddy bear.

he’d have to find ushijima and thank him endlessly later, though he couldn’t imagine why he’d decide to buy him a teddy bear. the reason didn’t matter, however- he was just so excited to finally have one. he felt like a child when the thought crossed his mind to just skip classes, stay in his room and stare at it all day, but it was such a shock. he didn’t want to leave it all alone! still, he eventually kissed its head (don’t judge him) and set it down on his pillow with the promise to be back later. even as he was leaving, it continued to smile at him the whole time.

***

when he arrived at the cafeteria, his first order of business was to look around for eita. he wanted his birthday hugs and kisses, and of course to tell him about ushijima’s gift to him. he didn’t spot him, though. in fact, none of his teammates were at their usual table. and he still had no messages. odd, he thought, taking out his phone to call his boyfriend when a voice from behind interrupted him. “ōhira-senpai!”

it was called in a pitch he very much recognized, prompting him to turn on his heel to face everyone’s favorite first year. “good morning, tsutomu.” he greeted happily, noting the way his underclassman was panting. “did you run here?”

“that’s not important!” goshiki replied, cheery as ever. just a little out of breath. “happy birthday!” he continued, shoving a bag toward him. not a gift bag- just a plastic bag, like you’d find at any store. but it was the thought that counted, and it counted a lot to reon.

“oh, wow- thank you! you really didn’t have to get me anything..” he started, the same spiel he intended to use on ushijima. though he got further that time, he still didn’t get to fully finish.

“i wanted to.” the younger interrupted, smile still bright on his face. “it’s your birthday! it’s special. go on, open it.” he seemed to only get more excited with each word, which gave reon a distinct feeling of dread. the type that told him it was one of those situations like when his brothers gave him something to open and a snake popped out at him.

even so, he opened it, not wanting to disappoint his junior. inside was a keychain that had a picture of the team shrunk down onto it, alongside something that made him regret being suspicious. shiny little eyes and soft brown fabric that just looked so huggable. he stood there in the cafeteria for a solid minute just staring, a fond look in his eyes as he resisted the urge to pull it out and smile like an idiot. “wow.”

“do you like it?”

“yeah, i do.” he finally looked up, matching goshiki’s smile with one of his own. “thank you very much, tsutomu. i love it.” he was about to continue when the other clapped and hugged him excitedly, causing him to laugh and hug him back.

after a minute, the younger stepped back and bowed his head. “i’m glad you like it! anyway, i have to go, my teacher wants us there early today for a project..” he grumbled, his smile dropping as the sulking began. reon just laughed, patting his shoulder and walking him out.

“you’ll do great.” he assured him, about to wave goodbye when he stopped. “hey, before you go- i don’t suppose you’ve seen eita anywhere?”

he tried not to find it odd when the younger abruptly shouted his goodbye and left without answering his question.

***

his day went on in such a pattern. run into one of his teammates, get a teddy bear, then have them run off before telling him where eita was. he tried to convince himself it was nothing, but there was always a gnawing feeling that this was their way of softening the blow before telling him that his dumbass- but loveable!- boyfriend got himself expelled or killed.

if it was, it was pretty nice, regardless. shirabu and kawanishi were together when they stopped him in the hall on the way to his second class, each with a small bag in hand. taichi quietly presented him with the image of a classic teddy bear- button eyes, threaded smile, soft to the touch. explaining that he figured he’d like it, cause he’s like 40, y’know? and it’s an old person teddy bear.. hah. that earned him an elbow to the ribs from shirabu, who quickly changed the subject with his own gift. lo and behold, another bear, this one built like an actual bear- four legs, correct bear posture, mouth sewn on in a straight line- because bears don’t smile all the time, he said. only when they mean it.

after getting an awkward hug from each of them and expressing his gratitude about a thousand times, he asked them if they’d seen his boyfriend. despite his wide smile in the moment, he was getting kinda sad. he hadn’t seen him since practice the previous day, and he was starting to really miss him. shirabu only rolled his eyes. “i already remembered your birthday- now i have to keep track of your boyfriend, too?”

if nothing else, it made him laugh a little as the two underclassmen started to walk away. “thanks anyway!” he called.

***

he got through the next three classes without much ruckus- a ‘happy birthday’ here and there from teachers or a few of his classmates who heard in the cafeteria. other than that, it was quiet. which really was odd, because right around now he’d usually be catching up with-

“BIRTHDAY BOY~!!!”

ah. there he was.

he turned around to greet his friend, seeing a flash of red already barreling toward him. used to these antics, surrounding students cleared a path without so much as stopping their conversations. satori barely managed to skid to a stop 2 feet in front of him, smile wide as ever. “hello, satori.” he greeted him quietly, turning to stand by his side and resume walking to class. a package was shoved into his chest before he could take two steps, causing him to blink in surprise.

“happy birthday! open it! open it, open it, open it, open it-”the redhead repeated, over and over until reon finally opened the box.. at which point loud cheering ensued. he was somewhat embarrassed, but that went away when he saw tendou’s bear selection. a normal bear, dressed in what seemed to be a bloody prom dress..

“satori. no.”

“it’s bearrie!” the redhead declared excitedly. “b- carrie? cabearrie.. car-bear.. come on, i put effort into this!” he whined. it was true! he cut out the little prom dress himself, painted on the blood, all that fun stuff. he knew it was the other’s favorite book.

“i thought we spoke to you about the puns.” reon sighed, before letting a smile break out on his face. “i love it, though. thank you.” he chuckled, holding onto the bear as tendou jumped on him for a hug.

“i knew you’d love it! she’s your favorite, right? you can totally tell me if she’s your favorite. obviously she’s your favorite-” he rambled, nudging reon repeatedly with his elbow before he rolled his eyes and walked away. “what?!” satori called after him. “was it something i said?”

***

the only thing dampening his good mood as he walked back toward his room, arms full of bears, was that he’d still yet to see eita. he wasn’t even in their usual sixth period class. he really was starting to worry, intending to call him again once he got everything sorted away. as soon as he did, though, someone burst in through his partially open door. “boom!” he heard the voice of the team’s libero, toting a gigantic ass bear on his back. “i win!”

reon watched with wide eyes as yamagata plopped the thing down on his bed, and while he definitely wanted to hug the shit out of that bear, he first had to ask- “won what, exactly?”

“y’know. your birthday.” he beamed proudly. “it’s not an official competition, but.. biggest bear means i win.” he insisted. “it’s called a djungelskog-”

“i really don’t think you can win.. my birthday.”

“agree to disagree.”

***

that argument actually went on for a while- basically until hayato also insisted he won that and ran out of the room. that left him there, alone- well, not entirely. call it childish, but he finally understood what people meant when they called their teddy bears their friends. or maybe it was just because these came from people who meant a lot to him. even so, laying on his bed among six of the best teddy bears in the world, all he could think about was eita.

he just couldn’t understand why he hadn’t seen him all day. in years past, eita had been the one to make sure his birthday was celebrated. while he was sure he had something to do with the gift theme that day, nothing would compare to seeing him in real life. he stared at his phone screen, displaying yet another call semi didn’t pick up.

he decided, at that point, just to go look for him. maybe he was sick or injured, or maybe he was mad. whatever the situation, he really missed him. he stood up from his bed, pocketing his phone and slipping his shoes on before opening the door. there, on the other side, was eita, getting ready to knock. he was absolutely soaked from head to toe, hair a mess and a fresh gash on his palm. even so, he smiled when he saw his boyfriend. “happy birthday!”

reon could only stand there, shocked at what he was seeing. “what the hell happened to you? i- come in, come here.” he told him, wrapping his arms around him for warmth. he’d completely missed the fact that it was raining, pouring actually. he’d been too focused on missing him. “where have you been?” he sighed, moving hair out of his boyfriend’s face and lifting his wounded hand. “i missed you.”

“oh.. well, did you get your bears? looks like you had a good day..!” he smiled, not wanting to think he ruined reon’s birthday by not being there.

“yeah, but i wanted to see you.” he chuckled, drawing him in for a gentle kiss and walking to his bathroom to grab some alcohol wipes. “i’ve been looking for you.” he told him, patting the bed to tell him to sit down beside him. “i do love this little theme. i assume you had something to do with this?” he gestured to the bears.

“i’m sorry.” eita sighed. “i.. i did, and i got so busy helping everyone else pick one that i totally forgot to go pick mine up, and so i went this morning and.. and it’s not even done.” he groaned, letting his head drop onto his non-bloody hand. “and i fell on the way back and now i don’t even have my main gift because they fucked up the orders.” he continued, getting more upset with every word. he’d put so much thought into his bear. he picked the material, the color, eye color, everything out. he ordered it through a highly rated custom gift website, even had it embroidered on the foot- 愛してる. i love you. he was going to spray it with his cologne.. so it would remind reon of him. “i’m sorry..” he sighed again, covering his eyes. he couldn’t believe he missed most of his boyfriend’s birthday for a gift he wouldn’t even be able to get for another week. he could have cried.

“hey, hey.” his boyfriend whispered, finishing up his hand and then moving in beside him. “i’m not mad, okay? i missed you, but you were trying to do something nice for me.” he hummed, kissing his temple. “besides, you’re here now, yeah? let’s get changed and lay down. i want my birthday kisses.”

eita laughed, wiping his eyes and planting one on him. “i can do that.” he agreed, standing from the bed. “oh! speaking of changing, i got you this.” he went into his school bag, pulling out a baby blue hoodie. of course he didn’t only get him one gift- what kind of boyfriend would he be? he unfolded it and held it out to him, revealing a little embroidered teddy bear with a hear on the right side chest. “if it’s not too lame, i also got a matching one.”

“oh, it’s so lame.” reon teased, taking the hoodie. “let’s see it.” he peeked into eita’s bag, identifying the same hoodie in baby pink. “i’ll let it go, because you’re cute.”

it took eita a while to peel off his wet clothes, but as soon as he was comfortably dried off and changed he joined reon in his bed. the teddy bears were spread out all around them, and he thought it was absolutely precious how much he seemed to cherish them. “i told you.” he whispered, poking the tip of his nose. “everyone needs a teddy bear.”

“mm, maybe.” reon agreed, hugging him tighter. “but i’ve got my favorite one right here.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#semi eita #shiratorizawa #ohira reon #tendou satori #ushijima wakatoshi #reonsemi #yamagata hayato #kawanishi taichi #goshiki tsutomu #shirabu kenjirou #happy birthday reon

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caralara · 1 year

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Hey Cara! Sorry your inbox is probably a mess right now. Did you see that Louis eye tattoo has 7 eyelashes upper lid and lower lid? I'm fully aware this could mean nothing and simply be a esthatic choice. It would add a whole nother layer of meaning to the tattoo though. Although I hope it ends, I hope it's not connected with the cancelling of tour dates. If it is, I assume it was planned some time ago and I'm not a fan of the idea that fans disappointment was somewhat calculated into it to make it more believable. So a part of me does hope it doesn't end now. If it was due to ticket sales we prob won't get a statement. How would one word that? Sorry I had to cancel, we overestimated how many tickets we could sell? I just can't see them publicly coming forward with this information. Anyway, I hope you don't let mean anons and drama get to you. Have a nice day.

Hi lovely! Thank you for your sweet message.

I did indeed see the 7 eyelashes and had a good chuckle about it - as the eye, along with the pyramid with the dot and the bones I think were from one design, I thought it was more the occasion of the universe providing more layers to initial meanings than it being intentional :)

At this point I am leaning two thirds towards it not having anything to do with bbg, and one third that it does. I agree that it would be really fucked up if it was planned ahead - then again he’s done quite a few things to push babygate that we thought he’d never do recently. If it was ending soon and they use this cancellation, may it be preplanned or just taking the opportunity now that it’s cancelled anyways, it would at least get one good thing out of it all.

I also 100% agree that I don’t think he’ll give us an explanation about the cancellation, especially if it’s because of low ticket sales, but I do hope to god he’ll tweet something about being gutted, our Asian Louies deserve this bare minimum.

It does make me sad to think that Louis will have to deal with the fact they might have overestimated him after the initial high of the 2022 tour - I am pretty sure he did not want to cancel and was looking forward to finally performing for his Asian louies (like he said)

Thank you again for your message and hope you have a lovely day, too!

#anon #bbg #babygate

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abyssallector · 1 year

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just reading your ask about farmhouse arc raph and omg i 1000% agree, the farmhouse arc is one of my favourites of the entire series and raph really shines throughout those episodes. i just did a rewatch of the entire series but that season might be the one i go back and watch a few times over just because i love it so much.

but i was also wondering if could you give your opinion on the croaking episode 👀 like you said in your ask, there’s a lot of varying fandom views surrounding it, so i’d be curious to hear your two cent on it!

thanks ❤️

The Croaking is my least favorite episode out of the entire set of farmhouse episodes, and possibly my least favorite out of the entire season . This is because this episode showcases one of the things i dislike about this show the most- how they approach writing Mikey as a character. Mikey is one of my favorite little guys ever, but even though he is one of the main four protagonists of this show, he's never actually treated like one. He doesn't have any serious long form arcs or moments of introspection (outside of group development), and what sucks is that this episode would have been the Perfect time to do that for him. The writers themselves can't seem to treat him seriously as a character, and the weakness in this part of his writing is why this episode is perceived the way it is.

One piece of the beginning of the episode gets shared around without context- a scene where his brothers berate Mikey for making a mess of the farmhouse and force him to clean up. Raph in particular is harsh to him and he says the infaamous words, "Some ninja! he's just a big screwup." And by no means was Raph right in saying that, but there's a lot of context often left out in the discussions of this episode. One thing, for instance, is Leo's comment about it actually being the *third* time in that week that Mikey trashed the house. Their frustration didn't come out of nowhere, and that's important information to know. Mikey didn't deserve to be called a screw-up, and he's totally justified in feeling hurt by those words, but he was not fully innocent in this situation either. However, this is never *meaningfully* acknowledged by the episode. And despite Leo and Donnie not disputing Raph's harsh comments and also yelling at Mikey in this scene, Raph is the only one treated as someone who's actually done something wrong. Both by the show, and by the fandom. It's incredibly shallow.

I think Mikey running away could be an interesting story, especially with the lead-up from the episode previous, where Mikey's suspicions about April's mom are dismissed by everyone for no reason other than that the suspicion is coming from HIM. But after the scene where he actually does leave, his feelings are just kinda... never brought up again. As if he forgot the reason why he ran away? As if running away isn't an EXTREME kind of action for anyone to take??? There is actually a brief moment when he talks about his brothers to Napoleon Bonafrog, and Napoleon says something like, "whoa, your brothers sound awesome." To which Mikey responds, a little sadly, "Yeah, they are awesome... even after I trashed the house." This isn't out of character for him to say or anything, but I have a few issues with this statement with the greater context of the entire episode in mind. One, this is factually not true- because if it was, he wouldn't have run away in the first place. (not saying that Mikey should be pissed at them, or hate them, because the reason why he left was out of sadness that they don't respect him. I just mean that what they said to him sort of wasn't awesome at all, and nothing in the episode directly affirms this). And two, this, and like one other small off-hand comment, is all we get of Mikey's thoughts regarding the event that led him to run away. I really feel like they could have done more, but they spent most of their time with the stupid frog plot instead of using the setup as an opportunity to advance Mikey as a character.

I also don't want to like, nitpick, but there's also a lot of weird plot inconsistencies in the episode itself? I don't want to get into them all, but the Article that Donnie brings up where they're trying to find Mikey is. strange... It reports on the local campsites being destroyed by the punk frogs, and there's a depiction of Mikey's face in the sketches shown of the perpetrators. But at that point in the episode, Mikey had JUST met Napoleon in the middle of the woods? It's never shown or implied that Mikey was even a part of those camp raids at all, outside of this. It seems so out of character for him to even willingly participate in something like that. If anything, he'd try to get them to stop, lmao. There's a few little moments like that here and there.

I do really like Mikey and Napoleon Bonafrog's friendship though. It's always fun to see Mikey deal with characters who can be more.. immature (?) than he is, and it was cute watching him try to teach Napoleon some of his skills. And even though im overall very dissatisfied with the emotional resolution of this episode, i really like how excited Raph was to see Mikey again, even hugging him mid-battle. (I was a little thrown off by how they both acted like they had never hugged before though????) . This scene is also what people tend to leave out when talking about this episode, unfortunately. So, when that clip of the beginning makes its rounds, it makes Raph look really really really really REALLY bad. It's often used as evidence of Raph being abusive and hating Mikey, but if this episode does literally nothing else, it does have moments showing this to be the contrary. People either forget or overlook it entirely.

But that's just kind of the problem here. The resolution they have is just not strong enough to leave any sort of impression on the audience because there barely is one present here. Both sides of the conflict with Mikey and his Brothers were poorly presented without really taking the time to actually think about the deeper meaning or implications this kind of story would have on these characters. Whatever message or theme this episode has gets pushed to the side and muddled because of the prioritization of the action-oriented plotline. This happens with pretty much every Mikey-centric episode, except for like, two. MAYBE 3.. It pisses me off to no end because this character has so much potential but because Mikey is the silly goofy comic relief, the "youngest" of the family, he's just stuck playing that role. Or maybe the 2012 writers just kinda suck at writing complicated characters, who knows. So yeah i don't like this episode HAHA

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt mikey #tmnt mikey 2012 #tmnt raph #tmnt leo #tmnt donnie #i didnt mention her but april was the only one i didnt have a problem with #good for her ig LMAO #i said a lot of words here and i hope they make sense

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biinaberry · 2 years

Text

Demon Core

Statement number: #9460121, ‘Demon Core’. Statement of Researcher Tango T. Tek on a new research assistant. Obtained from an in person interview on March 09, 1946. Date of recording: April 17, 2019.

[Tango] "…There are two types of scientist. Those who work with a team, and those who work alone. I’m a part of the lucky, or unlucky, few who were given the opportunity to work on my own."

[Magmits is not a part of or associated with Hermit Archives] [Google Docs] [AO3] Editor: aroaceacacia

A series of fizzles echo through the microphone like an old television. The Curator is clearly heard, despite a slight muffling of the audio, as if the mic were hidden somewhere.

“Are there any possible leads that can be taken? Like prior recordings or cameras in the storage unit? It would be silly to assume it was me. Unless I somehow gained the ability to suddenly sleepwalk.” The Curator chuckles under her breath.

A crackling, staticky voice joins amongst the twangs of the microphone. “We already know you couldn’t have done it. The company did a thorough background check before hiring. [static] -anagement knows you couldn’t have done it. However, your seamstress portfolio was mighty impressive. Hopefully my copilot is checking camera footage as we speak and sending investigators to look over the cases.” Someone sips at a liquid, swallowing loudly, before a small clack signals they’ve set something down onto a counter. “The logs will probably be null and void since recordings are checked a day or two after they’re submitted.” So what can we do?” A metal chair screeches across the floor.

“There is no we in this statement.” The voice softens as it gets closer. “You’re a Curator, you weren’t hired to play detective. Go back to verifying info and recording. You shouldn’t work a job you didn’t sign up for . Besides, this isn’t the first time someone stole from us.” The boss chuckles, a twiddling thing, as if they had lightning in their veins. ”However none of them ever expect how thorough we can get. They never get too far. While I, [static] -ment will work on this, you can go back to work.”

The Curator sighs, then hums idly. There’s a sound like a soft footstep and inhale of breath, and then the chair squeaks again. Clothing rustles as she stands and straightens. “Cleo.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for notifying us. Including the time at the end of the recording was also very practical. It’ll help with the timeline of things. You did good.” The air is stale, settling in its silence. It remains eerily unperturbed until a door thuds shut with a decisive click . ----------

Papers of various weights are shuffled across a desk space. The Curator takes a few sips of something, before putting it down on the desk with a clack - sounds ceramic.

“Following a few of my requests, management was able to give a list on what statements were already recorded.”

A paper is picked up. “One Pearl E. Moon took up the job of recording statements. Upon asking why she left in early 2012, the Boss said she just... ‘lost interest, gained a sense of paranoia’. Which isn’t a new thing, some people take their job way too seriously, but it started to affect her performance. Stuttering and constant retakes during recordings, and all that. It started to be too much for the company, so they let her go. Sad to see, because she was one of the better on-foot researchers that the company had prior to her job shift. Certainly had a way to get the information she needed out of others. Management didn’t see a need to immediately replace her, since all statements have been transcribed to new material and security does routine checks on the storage units.”

“Which, I won’t lie, makes me question what makes the Curator job special, unless it is really just the merging of two jobs into one. …Maybe I should’ve asked them that when I had the chance, earlier.”

There’s a large, heavy thump, and some kind of crate or box slides across the desk and closer to the microphone. “Boss also preselected a new file for me, with artifacts attached. They felt bad about yesterday’s incident, so they decided to do some of the work for me.” A folder slaps onto the table, as if dropped. Fingers sift through papers, sliding them around and fanning them out, until one is picked up. The paper is shaken out straight and snapped into position.

“‘All papers and artifacts in this crate pertain to case file #9460121 ‘Demon Core’. The only exception being an older Geiger counter left in storage unit ISO- SP3. Notes have been sectioned off into different folders, color-coded, and labeled. Physicists who specialize in radioactive critical states have been hired to read through the statement giver’s notes and to give a condensed final copy for the statement reader’...I’m curious to see just how many notes were included for them needing to condense it. ‘All notes have been photocopied and scanned into the company’s databases, however the statement giver requested a way for them to still keep ownership over their research findings, as well as a way to remain anonymous. A deal has been settled that their name would be kept on all documents in our database, but would not be released publicly by us in conjunction with either the statement or their research, nor in association with our organization at all. All details, regarding both the statement giver’s personal information and the case itself, are classified and for the eyes of the Curator only. Any other employees of work site Maple do not have clearance to read this file beyond its name. They did give consent to the use of their name during an in-person interview with the site Maple Curator. As such, a copy of the original March 13, 1946 recording has been provided, as well as a transcript for only the Curator’s use.’ Why ask to be anonymous in the first place then?”

There’s a beat, before something hard is driven into the crate. Wood seems to splinter and protest, and the Curator exhales with effort, before it splits apart. Something small and metallic pings several places, and the Curator shrieks in surprise - “bloody nail,” she grumbles. Another beat. Fabric rustles, and flesh scrapes across the wood. “There’s one,” the Curator mumbles, and drops a massive file onto the desk. The thump echoes through the room. Another scrape. “There’s two.” Another thump. And again: and with each continuous thumping sound, the disbelief and pure astonishment in the Curator’s mutters of ‘oh god’ increasingly grows. “What the hell kinda experiments were they conducting to have five massive folders on just research notes .” She takes another sip from her mug and exhales deeply. “Okay... Thank you management, holy shit.”

----------

“Cleo Zombie, Curator of work site Maple, record number: #9460121, case file ‘Demon Core’. Statement of Researcher Tango T. Tek on a new research assistant. Obtained from an in person interview on March 09, 1946. Date of recording: April 17, 2019.”

The soft whir of a winding tape accompanies the sips from the Curator’s cup. The tape stops winding, and the Curator presses a button with a click. The tape begins.

[Tango]

You sure this whole.. record-ificator you have there will be enough legal proof? I spent months on this work, murder wouldn’t be the only thing on the table if I lose ownership of this.

[Curator]

You submitted an audio log with your notes. It’s enough. If you believe a bunch of paper and restoration workers will find a use for plutonium research, I’ll see if Lily can print out a physical contract.

[Tango]

Fine... actually please do, that would make it easier. I don’t want this getting out.

[Curator]

It won’t. You came here with an encounter or story with a-?”

[CLICK. NOTES ARE TAKEN.]

[Tango]

-- Research assistant, a new one.

[Curator]

“ It’s always the new ones … Okay! Statement of one…?”

[CURATOR SHOVES THE MICROPHONE IN FACE. IMPACT AND GRUNT. FUZZ.]

[Tango]

Tango T. Tek.

[Curator]

On a new research assistant! The day is March 09, 1946, coming to you live from work cite Maple. You may begin your tale, o fortunate victim.

[Tango]

…There are two types of scientist. Those who work with a team, and those who work alone. I’m a part of the lucky, or unlucky , few who were given the opportunity to work on my own. Flying solo the entire time like a newborn bird. Could have been because my whole job could vaporize anything and everything into a new breed of mutant, but that’s neither here nor there.

I work with plutonium, nasty stuff if someone doesn’t know what to look for. The line between safety and certain death is a… delicate one, to say the least, and sadly, we’d already seen the worse of those two outcomes. My company didn’t want another outbreak again, even though it was on the contract. But it’s a little easier to be safe, when you’re working alone. Fewer people to consider, right?

Then the boss came down all ‘we got some news for you’ and I was terrified that all of my funds were just ripped for me. Oh it was worse . They surpris-ificated me with a lab assistant! Which you know should be a good thing, but I had this whole system. And trying to teach that to someone who isn’t yourself is more pain than it’s worth. So I’m dreading it, my brain’s dreading it, I could hear the screams coming from my lab as she’ll probably get rearranged.

[pauses] Uh- oh wow I made it sound like the new guy was horrible- he wasn’t. We. We got into a rhythm...eventually.

It wasn’t until a week later that I was actually able to meet him for the first time. I could only describe him as average, in an American sense. He wore a typical white lab coat, a brown cardigan, and blue jeans. That cardigan…! He always had the top two buttons undone, and he never wore an undershirt, did you know that? It seemed a little unprofessional to me!... but I was wearing an unzipped vest myself, so the same could be said for me. His hair was like clouds, light and fluffy. Bright yellow, like the fields of wheat on my old drive to work. Tightly curled in the front but more wavy in the back. Unreal, in how perfect it was. Didn’t realize that fact until we were walking to my lab.

He introduced himself; where he got his degree (Britain), prior lab experience (also Britain), jobs, the usual. “Call me Zed,” he said with a smile and an actual twinkle in his eye. His eyes… I swear, every time I looked at them they changed color. When I first entered the room his eyes were a dark blue, that weird shade where you can have a whole debate on if it could be classified as blue or purple? Yet, when I shook his gloved hand (purple with yellow palms, so bright they hurt to look at), his eyes were a light brown. His face was covered in freckles, like stars and constellations. They were against a tan canvas; overall he looked like he’d spent a lot of time in the sun. He also had two hair clips on the left side of his face to keep his bangs out, both black. The boss led him down to my lab and that's when I got a good look at the rest of him, and it really struck me that he was off for a British person. He was about 6’5, or maybe 6’4. That’s an estimate using my boss as a reference - he’s six foot. It also didn’t help that the new guy was either nearly or fully a head taller than me. There was no way I was self conscious of my own height, nope, no way, not at all. I’m a very proud and regal 5’7, okay!

… Anyways. When we made it down to my lab, lucky old 27, I showed him the basic layout. The left side of the room was for the active experiments, the right side was used for completed experiments, and storage for all the research. The left wall was covered in counters, and dials, charts, and levers, versus the right, which had multiple filing cabinets, all meticulously labeled. Stuff like “Experiments 1-15”. I know I know. Very descriptive, I’m a naming master. But the most important part of the room was the Geiger counter in the top left corner of the room. It sat right next to the viewing window used to keep track of the experiment chamber.

Once I’d shown Zed around the place, it was time to get to work...Have I described the exact nature of the experiment yet? We’re researching Biology, its effect on the body, all that typical jazz. Place the subject in the testing room, push the plutonium until a desired amount, stop the experiment, repeat with the next batch. I’ll admit it, my tests aren’t the most.. ethical. Outsiders call it torture, but that pales in the pursuit of science. Just..don’t tell the board and we’re a-okay. We.. have an understanding. To help Zed get settled in, we did a trial run. I tested the equipment as normal, put the subject in the chamber, started the experiment, and documented it. Been doing it for four months now, so nothing new. I gave Zed the task of documenting the results at the bottom left side of the room, by the dials and charts. I would look over the test subjects and the Geiger counter at the top left side of the room, easy enough. Every 20 seconds I would mark down the number on the counter and when it reached over my marked capacity or ten minutes had passed, I would shut it off.

Tell me how, after just two minutes, the counter was click click clicking like it was the end of the world! I checked all the readings and it seemed that if the experiment were to continue, it would generate an effective radiation dose of around 1500 rem - over three times what should have been expected! I was scrambling to shut down everything! I looked like a headless chicken from how quickly I was running to turn it off. I whipped my head toward Zed to see if he saw it as well, and he was as still as a statue! Almost like he was made of stone, before the widest smile I’d ever seen on a person spread-ificated on his face and he burst into laughter, just gasping like he were a man drowning. “Is that supposed to happen?” he asked. [mocking] “Supposed to happen?” Of course not! I’d only ever have the counter that high if I were trying to see how fast I could kill a person!

I quickly informed the boss so we could evacuate the lab building. I didn’t want any more heads put on my platter. We had some specialists in hazmat suits check the building. A group of ten. No matter how hard they looked or how long they checked, they found nothing wrong. No radiation leaks, no plutonium monsters, no nothing. So now I look like the bad guy, because I interrupted everyone’s work for nothing! I tried telling them the plutonium was acting up, the numbers were way too high, but they laughed it off. Told me to keep a better eye on it, rude . When we were finally able to enter the lab again a week later, I was checking every piece of machinery meticulously. Every nook and cranny, every bit and bolt. But nada, zip, nothing! I couldn’t find a single reason for why the values were multiplied! Sad to say that subjects 1 through 20 from batch C had to be removed from further testing. While they won’t be of any use for Alvarado, they became an experiment of their own. We placed them in a separate control room, to monitor how they were affected by the much higher dose of radiation they received. Of course, radiation poisoning was to be expected, but what else might happen? It felt like new ground. Still, the accident had left me a bit shaken, and I took a few days of sick leave.

Two days passed before I brought myself to resume the experiment. I checked the equipment as usual and no defects could be found. I placed the next batch of subjects into the test chamber and started again. All was going the same for the first two minutes, but at 2:47 minutes, the counter went bonkers again! Hundreds of milliroentgen! Shut everything down, checked the charts, double checked with Zed, started it over. Nearly the same result, but this time we had to worry about even more milliroentgen, and it started alerting us at 3:15 , instead! And again, we repeated it, with new results - and again and again and again. This repeated for two weeks . The length of time for the counter to go off and the amount of milliroentgen kept changing.

Normally in an experiment, you’d expect the results to be a little different each time, because it’s the job of the scientist to read between the lines and find the pattern. But here’s the thing. There was no pattern! I was losing my mind! I had no team to bounce theories off of, and there was no way Zed knew what was happening, because he had no clue how the experiments should be running. It didn’t feel real. I thought, “maybe it’s the equipment?” I got the boss to almost fully replace everything in the lab. Wiring, lights, counters, hell even new Geiger counters! The only thing he wouldn’t replace was the happy fun time rock - ah, the plutonium. Still a little bitter over that.

By that point I’d been at it for two months, hundreds of subjects wasted and many deceased from the radiation. I was just about to give up. Sure, I got notes on higher levels of radiation, but none of it made sense ! My research should have time and radiation as our constant - all of the specimens would be exposed to a specified level for the same lengths of time - but now neither were independent! All batches were exposed to levels far exceeding their assigned so we had to shut it down! None of what I was getting could be used for my prior work at all! All of my research was on varying levels of exposure and its effect on the body. Each batch of specimens had a level of radiation assigned, and then each batch was further divided into subgroups based on how many times they would experience that radiation. All of my prior batches had to stop the day Zed joined, because I couldn’t risk tampering with those results.

Realizing none of this could be used, that I had spent months spinning in place with nothing but inconclusive, nonsensical results to show for it, was my breaking point. When I entered the lab, I planned on creating a new thesis or research statement, because my current one was going to be on permanent vacation. Yet, when I got into the lab, a small note was at my desk. Apparently Zed called the boss, said he would be out for the day. Car troubles. It would just be me again. I can do that.

…When I tell you everything ran perfectly. It. Ran. Perfectly. No random spikes, no sudden time differences, everything was exactly how I wanted it. How it had been before . I won’t lie, I almost cried. Sadly batches A1 through Z1 had to be rejected, stuck to only the ‘analysis’ part of the experiment, but it’s better than nothing at all!

[DESPERATE, WHEEZY LAUGHTER. IT TRAILS OFF INTO BREATHING.]

I was so happy to start again that I didn’t even question why until I got home… When your entire job is based around logic, you don’t think about a person being responsible. It’s.. unimaginable in a sense, especially in this context. But there I was, sitting on my couch drinking coffee contemplating if Zed was the reason! You understand, I am nothing if not a scientist. I needed more data. So I held my belief for the next day.

As I entered the lab, Zed was standing there, filing papers away. He turned and smiled, that awful smile with his stupid shiny teeth, and then he apologized for missing work the day prior. His eyes were gold this time. I said it’s alright, accidents happen, and besides, I was able to advance the experiments. God.. he was so happy when I said that, and it made me feel ill. Something about him hurt to look at. The sight of his neon-bright gloves alone gave me a headache. He ran to the filing cabinet and picked up his glasses, clipboard and two pens.

“So we’re starting a new batch? Says here we’re moving to batch A3 through Z3.” This was my opportunity to test my hypothesis from the night before. I confirmed, and told Zed I’m going to watch over the experiment this time around; an inversion of our usual roles, though I didn’t tell him that. I asked him to check the test subjects, to make sure each batch contained precisely 40 subjects. He saluted, like a soldier, and said “Ay ay, Captain!” before leaving the room.

As predicted, without Zed, the experiment ran smoothly. Ten minutes passed before I heard Zed call out my name, asking if he could come in. I agreed. When he entered the room, I looked at the counter: it clicked 5 marks higher. I took a deep breath and gathered my courage before turning to smile at Zed. I told him to stand next to me. My heart followed the beat of his footsteps. Five, ten, twenty, fourty - the counter kept clicking higher and I could feel the sweat gather on the back of my neck - eighty, one-twenty, my heart hammering against my chest. A bird trapped, fluttering and fighting in its cage before I could feel his shadow fall over me. Four hundred and sixty milliroentgens per hour. I couldn’t stop staring at the counter. Zed’s hand came to rest on my shoulder. It was warm. Four-seventy, his other hand reached past me, four-eighty, his face inched forward (bright purple eyes), four-ninety, his hand touched the counter.

The glass shattered. The counter’s needle flew by my head, hitting the wall and clattering to the ground. My ears rang. My vision blurred, focused on the broken machine, its screaming death rattling my brain like a smacked metal tin. I couldn’t think. I turned to look at him. Zed smiled, his eyes a kaleidoscope of colors, green to purple to yellow to blood red. He tilted his head to me, teeth as sharp as blades and freckles that glow like stars. He looked like he was made of radium. His hand retreated back to my shoulder and I felt it, somehow, at the base of my spine. Ringing. I can’t feel my hands. Ringing. I can’t feel my feet, only my eyes and my ears. Ringing. “Oh~ What a pity. Thought this one would work .” His voice melted. I was helpless to listen. “There’s no time for that now. There’s experiments to be done.” Somehow, he didn’t sound unkind. Fingers grasped the back of my neck, pulling me away from the machine.

…I don’t know how I got home that day. I don’t remember. The moment he took his hand off my back, I blacked out and woke up on my couch drinking coffee. I never felt so out of control , I -

[SILENCE. SOFT BREATHING.]

Well, now I know how it feels to be the rat in the maze… What do I do now? I still work with him, we still do our experiments. You know, I had to get glasses? My eyes haven’t worked quite right ever since… Sorry, I don’t know how to finish this with a nice bow.

[Curator]

You don’t need to. ----------

A rattled click concludes the end of the tape. The Curator huffs, and takes a large drink of whatever she has in her glass.

“Let’s all agree that that statement was insane. Surely, it’s just the ramblings of a mad scientist who’s not gotten the results he wanted. But, there is this crate -” she smacks the crate on her desk “- and the apparent broken Geiger counter in storage, so there has to be some truth to his claim. … Ah, right! The statement summary. ”

“‘Mr. Tango T. Tek was living in his New Mexico home with his housemate, Nathan “Impulse” Stewart-Voss, an electrician for the same company. Mr. Stewart-Voss reported Mr. Tek went missing on March 19st when he didn’t return home from work for two days. Sadly after the initial investigation from March 21st to 25, Mr. Stewart-Voss also went missing on the 27th. Neither of them were found again. After police checked their home, multiple notebooks were found scattered across the floor, all containing different formulas, messages, and diagrams. Only a small handful of the notebooks were deciphered, but those that were had variations of ‘Yes?’, ’Where?’, ‘He’s Here’, ‘Where is He?’, ‘Tango’, ‘A deal’s a deal’ and various forms of legible smiley faces. From the images, a vague shape of a map was found. The trail ended at a dug up hole in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Investigators excavated a 20 ft by 20 ft by 10 ft deep square; however, nothing was recovered. Eventually, all pursuits to find the two dwindled down, as no new information could be found.”

“Attempts have been made to find Mr. Zed, but the search has been null as well. The Curator did provide the research team a possible location in New Mexico based upon an off handed comment Mr. Tek said prior to the recorded interview. Seeing as no other leads were found the team got to work and started to ask around the specified area. Even with a description of the man, a possible name, and a photograph; every manager has denied the existence of such a man and investigators have been told to leave. The conclusion was that Zed was a false name. No new information has been found out regarding the case in general.”

“Mr. Tek’s research deals with the overarching hypothesis of ‘does varying levels of radiation effect biology?’” A sheet of paper rustles, as if the Curator were putting the statement summary aside. “ However , this paper so far fails to mention specifically what biology he is testing with. Rabbits, rats, humans, who the hell knows. If I had to make a guess, based upon his talk with Zed about checking batches, I’m going to assume rats or rabbits. Surely, if 40 humans per batch went missing, somebody would notice.”

The flapping of paper is heard as the Curator mutters a curse, pushing her chair back to pick something up from the floor.

“‘Within this folder is a selection of photographic artifacts related to Mr. Tek’s statement. All photographs have a handwritten comment on the back, written in black ink. Refer to the given chart for each photograph by number and description.’”

“‘Photos 3/8: Abnormal Spots.’ After the encounter with Mr. Zed, Mr. Tek informed the Curator that he started to experience an almost.. tingling feeling on his shoulders. As if ‘there was electricity in my veins’ to copy his words. When getting ready to go to bed, he noticed a faint glowing on the mirror to his right. Upon turning he noticed that his shoulders and sides were glowing underneath his shirt. After freaking out, he used a camera to start taking photos of himself. When the Curator asked why he instantly went to taking photos, he replied ‘We’re scientists, we document everything.’” He also believed the spots came from standing right next to Mr. Zed. Showing regret in the fact he didn’t think of the consequences for said action.”

“The spots continued to spread down his spine and onto his hands. He informed the Curator that they would shift between shades of white, yellow, and orange in no particular order or duration. The most pressing one is on the back of his spine and left hip, where they appear to have the shape of a massive handprint. Alongside the photos of the spots, he included one from a year prior. Stating it as proof that the spots were a recent development. The spots are absent in the last photo.”

“‘Photos 11/17: Lab Reference. Photos taken by Mr. Tek on February 12, 1946.’ The company’s manager wouldn’t allow outsiders access into the building unless they’re a part of the company. As a work around Mr. Tek took photos of the lab as a reference point as he told the story and a way to preserve the lab in case items got rearranged. The photos included all four walls of the lab, a large table on the right side of the room, and the broken Geiger counter. Along the left wall are multiple counters and dials as he described, the viewing window for the experiments and the Geiger counter. The front wall contains a giant whiteboard covered in notes with printed charts, and filing cabinets hug the right wall. Mr Tek did chuckle over feeling the Geiger counter photos were a bit pointless after he and Mr. Stewart-Voss simply took the counter once management planned to replace it.

“‘Photos 1/2: Subjects. Two photos containing both Mr. Zed and Mr. Tek’. The first is a candid shot of Mr. Zed and Mr. Tek in a hallway. Mr. Zed’s hand is around the small of the other’s back. Mr. Tek’s head is turned to the left, enough where you can see his nose, eyes and a little bit of his smile. Both are holding food in their left hands, I think hotdogs but I can’t be sure.”

“The second phot- oh .. Holy shit- I um- the second photo is a formal view of the two infront the viewing window. Mr. Tek is on the right while Mr. Zed is on the left. Nothing of note is to be said about Mr. Tek, but Mr. Zed on the other hand… well. He makes a convincing Witch of the West. They’re both smiling, but with how squished Mr. Zed’s cheeks are, you shouldn’t be able to see his whole eye. Yet- god, is there no shading in his eyes? They’re entirely white, except for his black irises. There’s no gradient either, it’s fully black. His hand also appears to melt around Mr. Tek’s hip. It’s hard to tell but his fingers clearly shift into the same grayish white of the other’s lab coat as if he fused with it. Right behind Mr. Tek’s head appears to be almost.. another Zed.”

“His face is slightly blurry and transparent, however a smile and one eye are clearly visible. It almost looks like that one ghost photo done by..” The Curator snaps her fingers while tapping the desk. “God who wa-Corbert! That was the person! Yeah the ghost photos done by Corbert. He has that blurry texture around him while still being almost.. too clean in spots. The head is tilted to the left with a wide smile on his face, stretched like putty. His hair seems to fade away near the edges until it blends perfectly with the glass. I would pin this as being simply long exposure if it weren’t for the fact that it mentions it was a snapshot photo done to commemorate a week of working together. The figure is also holding something behind Mr. Tek’s back. It’s large and rectangular in shape, maybe undeveloped film, yet you can see the shadow of the box against the glass. It might be a book, because I see a spine with some form of letters on it. Wish I could make it out more clearly, but I’m missing a magnifying glass... ”

“With that, Curtains Close, End Statement.”

----------

The picture warbles as it’s placed on the table. The Curator sighs before the sounds of the chair lightly scratching against the floor.

“That photo spooked me more than it has any right to…” The light sound of skin slapping skin is picked up before the Curator groans.

“It’s just a photo, a blink and you miss it moment, but I can’t miss this. There’s too much evidence proving that that was real. A genuine experience and.. I don’t know what that means moving forward.” Ceramic slides against the desk as the microphone hears light sips from it before silence airs throughout the room. Broken only by the chair screeching back from sudden movement.

“I’m just gonna.. walk that off, I need to check storage anyway. What unit was it anyways?... SP3. Got it.” The lock clicks as the door opens. Hinges whining as it slowly closes behind the Curator.

“With how many storage units there are, it’s easy to get lost, I feel. All the different labels, how many turns you take, might even call it a maze. So the boss-” She chuckles. “-gave me a horribly doodled map pointing to its holding box. They mentioned that every month the counter gets a cleaning and touches on its finish to help preserve both the original look of the counter as well as make sure the rust doesn’t spread.”

The storage unit keys jingles as it’s picked up. Slowly being carded down the key loop as the Curator mutters under her breath. “Come on.. Come on. One of you- god. I’m going to kill management bef- ” The lock clicks and the door’s hinges whine as it’s opened. “ Gotcha .” The Curator steps through the door before belining it to the back of the unit. Footsteps clicking on the floor as if she was marching to a beat. The footsteps abruptly stop before quickly resuming once again. A shutter door is flung open, the metal rattles unused to such force.

“Oh well. The counter is certainly still here! Would probably lose it if this.. surprisingly large Geiger counter also went missing under my watch. It’s maybe… 4 or 5 feet long? And a width of about 1 foot. The exterior paint is dark green however with how heavily chipped it is, I think less than a half of the counter is still painted. There are massive fissures in the metal radiating from the cracked dial, as well as a few holes. Despite Mr. Tek’s best efforts he could not find the needle that broke off, even after scavenging the whole lab…”

“Management also failed to mention the handprints on the barrel of the counter? Unless those were a part of the original design… either way I’ll let the Boss know. Besides the forgotten fingerprints, nothing else is out of shape. I’ll head back to the office an-” A sharp fizzle cuts out the audio, it pulses for a minute before it slowly starts to dissipate. The Curator’s voice slowly comes back into frame midway through an apparent ramble.

“-I don’t know how I feel about this whole supernatural deal. I mean- It’s a massive breakthrough for sure, but I was expecting more unicorns and fairies. You know, the fun and safe kind that helps you in times of need, not a man who can break Geiger counters. I’m still not over that! What else is out there? Does he know about us? He sure as hell didn’t like Mr. Tek giving out information. Or was that caused by something completely different, like.. paranoia or a sudden spark of mania?”

The Curator sighs, rasping her fingers against a wooden object. “I’d like to ask the Boss a few more questions.”

#magmits #hermitcraft #zombiecleo #tangotek #tango tek #zedaph #tma au #magmits au

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education-over-demonization · 1 year

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Hello!

Firstly, I wanted to tell you that I really appreciate you giving others the opportunity to educate themselves on anything related to the multiple personality disorder. Being willing to do it is almost never easy (totally understandable). I completely agree with your account name. If it's not a bother, I'd like to ask you some questions that came to me while doing research on this topic. I don't have this type of disorder, but as a neurodivergent and empathetic person in general I don't feel good with the little information I have.

Some of the questions will be in form of statements, because they are conclusions that I reached by reading, but obviously I do not assume that they are true. I would be very grateful if you could instruct me regarding any of these or what you consider appropriate. I don't want to stop apologizing for the ignorance that my vocabulary probably contains. I'll cover this from a point of view that doesn't reveal most angles, and I'm sorry if any of that makes someone uncomfortable.

I'll start then:

This type of disorder only develops from an extremely traumatic event during early age, when the person is still developing their personality. You are not born with this disorder. Is that true?

I understand how a person can be, for example, Dean and John at the same time. But some people report having non-human alters. How is that possible? What kind of fragmentation occurs?

While this fragmentation is not technically a bad thing, I've read that some people don't want to heal, or "fusion", or whatever. I understand that there are different terms to describe different stages. Would it be wrong to tell a person in this situation that although their identities are respected, since right now they are more than one person at a time, they could be cured and it is not good to deny them that cure? I'm not saying "it can be cured" in the sense that if you don't, you're going to be a bad person, but I can't think of how it could be a good idea not to reverse symptoms that have fragmented a healthy development.

Do you know valid percentages regarding the rate of people fully recovered from this disorder?

Can it happen that some personality does not feel part of the family to which the real personality belongs? Is it valid to say "real personality"?

Sorry for rambling too much, I hope not being bothering. Once again I thank you. I hope my doubts are useful.

Have a good day!

Sorry for taking so long to answer this, but here you go! I’ll also number my answers for ease of correlating then to the correct question. Keep in mind that ages and specific experiences vary from person to person, thus why I often say “usually.” I also want to make it clear that while my language may sound harsh, this is not directed at you, I simply wanted to convey the information in a clear and concise way.

1. True! People aren’t born with DID. DID forms when repetitive trauma is experienced at a young age, often seen as before the age of 8, though there is speculation that it could happen with trauma occurring up to around age 13 in children who take longer to develop mentally. The child simply cannot deal with what is happening, so the brain creates a separate “person” to deal with the trauma. Depending on the type of trauma and the extent to which the child can handle it different types of amnesia can occur. In full blown DID (so to speak) you usually end up with total amnesia, meaning you don’t remember anything, while many people with OSDD (other specified dissociative disorder) have reported feeling emotional amnesia, where they can remember the event but have no emotion attached to it, or it can feel like walking a movie. Often you can get a mix of both, where the worst will be completely omitted but with lesser events the emotions may simply be removed, though it will vary from system to system. So while no one is born with it, the severity of dissociation and amnesia depends on each child, the trauma, and how it is experienced.

2. “Two people at once” could actually refer to a number of things! Most commonly to being cocon, when two or more alters are sharing control. They may trade off who does what, or one may simply be there to enjoy the ride! And nonhuman alters tend to happen when the child is alienated or being nonhuman provides safety. Religious trauma could cause an alter who is a demon or angel for example, and animal alters can come from corresponding abuse. While these are more common, it’s entirely possible to have an alter that could be something like a rock, for example this would allow them to be “outside” the trauma and just an observer.

3. This is a pretty complicated point, and there isn’t necessarily one “cure.” DID is a vast and complex disorder that looks different in everyone, so what could work for one system may not work for another. Being “cured” or “fixed” are controversial in terms as they imply something is broken, and while you can definitely argue that splitting is breaking apart the consciousness, it can also imply that it should not have happened and that the child should have stayed “whole.” And our head mates can feel like family, we’ve been with them practically our entire lives, and while to some systems final fusion (where only one “identity” remains) can be the dream, it can feel like murder to others. Fusion is when two or more alters fuse together to create one, however it’s a very tricky topic. While you can get amazing results, such as two very fragmented parts forming a more complete part, just one alter not wanting the fusion to occur can cause a lot of chaos and disorder within the system. Final fusion would also require the sharing of all memories as only one alter would be left, something not everyone wants to do. Many systems instead have a goal of functional multiplicity, meaning they do not plan on working towards a final fusion, but rather on perhaps the fusion of fragments to create more “complete” alters and to improve communication and break down amnesia barriers. While wanting to be “cured” should seem like a universal want, but it’s so much more complex than that. As above mentioned, calling it a cure can imply that the dissociation resulting from the trauma was “wrong” and that the child should have “dealt h with it.” While this is rarely what people mean it’s how it often comes across. Final fusion, and even functional multiplicity require tremendous amounts of work as well. Alters that are designed to function in day to day life by not remembering trauma might not be able to function suddenly, so it could potentially require a job that would allow you to take the necessary time off. It can mean extensive years in therapy, and can require a trauma specialist which can be expensive and hard to find, especially since DID is so under discussed even within psychologists. And the idea of being all alone in your head can be terrifying. If you spent most of your life working with a team of people, each with a role to conquer life, suddenly having to do all of it on your own can be terrifying, and it comes with the reality of what can feel like loosing friends, family, and even partners. So you can work to reverse the negative symptoms without final fusion, which is the goal for many while others work towards final fusion.

4. As said above, “fully recovered” is not easy to define. Unfortunately the statistics don’t look super good. Up to 72% of people with DID either have or will attempt suicide. And substances and the risk of addiction poses a huge threat as well. Depression and anxiety are common, and seeking help is terrifying. Many also end up in and stay in abusive relationships as well, and the lack of specialists and the difficulty of escaping abuse can make any sort or recovery extraordinarily difficult.

5. “Personality” tends to be seen as an outdated term, and “alters” or “parts” is now generally accepted, though some systems prefer one term or the other, and there’s nothing wrong with like one term and not another! The “real personality” you’re referring to is what was commonly referred to as the “core,” or the “original.” However those are also seen as outdated terms, and tends to imply that one had more right to exist than another. the “original” can be just as fragmented, if not more so than other alters, and is not necessarily set apart when categorizing. Rather, the host tends to be what people think of, as many assume that the “host” and “original,” (so to speak) are the same when that often isn’t the case. Many systems will refer to biological family as the “body’s family” or simply as theirs depending on how long they have been host. Who the host is can change over time as circumstances and needs change, and many systems have a host team, or a group of alters who front frequently to walk through day to day life!

Tldr; people aren’t born with DID, nonhuman alters are typically caused by severe trauma that dehumanizes the child, healing looks different for everyone and many dislike the idea of being “cured,” healing is very hard and time consuming, alters may not feel any relation to the body’s family at all, and the term “real personality” is very outdated as well as offensive.

#did #did system #did osdd #did systems #dissociation #endthestigma #mental health awareness #plural system #awareness #destigmatize #education

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nat20marketing · 3 months

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Welcome back to this week’s Nat 20 Marketing!

This week’s going to be about the secret ingredient to successful IMC, so sit back, relax, and read on.

In the world of business, we cannot always count on luck that our strategies will work out all the time, especially without proper planning ahead of time.

Last week, we covered the difference between marketing and IMC. With IMC being part of the whole marketing strategy, the simplified process for IMC starts with reviewing the core marketing plan. This is logical, after all we need to know our goals and objectives. Then, we’d like to learn about the consumers and the brand itself more. During this stage, we as marketers will need to know what concepts and ideas the brand would like to represent; what values the brand would like to deliver to its customers. After that, we would need to determine the budget for the IMC program and then we would implement the program. Lastly, we would monitor and evaluate the performance of the program and revise the IMC plan as needed.

When we develop the IMC programs, there is always the chance that a slip-up may happen. It is only human. Timing and tones are important. Spellchecking and so many other nuances to take care of. The programs may not be as well-received as we predict them to be initially. That’s why we need to be ready to make changes in time. The worst case scenario would likely be having to take down the released content and issue an official statement addressing the problematic issues. Then again, that is why in-depth research and analysis are so critical to the success of IMC. We need to gauge what the target audience cares deeply about. In a world where businesses are all looking to give back to the community, it is up to us marketers to understand what a brand is fighting for and for whom we are doing these things.

In the business world, there is nothing not about money, money, and money. It is very realistic, and we must accept that we do not have unlimited resources, so sacrifices need to be made here and there. As a matter of fact, we cannot use the same programs to target every group. Age, gender, interests, habits, culture, and many more aspects all play key roles in a person’s decision on which service or goods to buy and acquire. For example, a child would likely be more interested in toy cars whereas an adult may be more interested in buying an actual car since they would be the one driving the vehicle. There is simply no one-size-fits-all solution in marketing.

Knowing that we cannot target everyone at once, setting SMART objectives is the next step. As anyone who works in any business, having a clear goal is more than essential in the long run. To quickly summarize, SMART stands for specific, measurable, achievable (or attainable), realistic, and timely. With the advancement of the Internet and the sheer speed of information transmission, being timely with content release is critical. What is important today may no longer be relevant or acceptable in a few months. People can educate themselves so easily these days with just a few clicks and a few keyword inputs. We need to have measurable objectives because, without this, it is difficult to determine if something is working or not. Everything moves so fast for us to sit and wait. We must be on the go and ready to interpret numbers and statistics and turn them into useful information for decision-making. If there is any key takeaway from this week’s blog, I would say being ready to go and move is the one thing to remember, for it can be applied to basically anything in life. Opportunities are for those who are ready in the moment. We must seize them before others do.

Being born in the digital age has made me feel more than thankful that collecting data has never been made easier. All the hard work is automated with artificial intelligence and computer programming. Efficiency and attention to detail are the words. Our work does not stop at the implementation step, we have to keep track of the data, the reception, the response, and the discussions that spark from the IMC programs. We need to react to them appropriately. Perhaps the program is so well-received that we may want to reconsider them again in the future, or the program is a dud and we should avoid repeating the same thing down the road.

With that, I think it is time to wrap up this week's topic by wishing you all good luck with formulating your greatest IMC strategy. Stay tuned for next week's BIG IDEA!

#integrated marketing communications #digitalmarketing #marketing #smart goal #business

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crispyturtlepainter · 1 year

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Emma's first statements after her return to WWE

Emma's first statements after her return to WWE: The most recent episode of WWE SmackDown (see coverage and results Friday Night SmackDown October 28, 2022) will go down in history as the night that marked Emma's return to the Company to face The Champion, Ronda Rousey.

Emma's first statements after her return to WWE:

Last night on SmackDown we could see great movements of the WWE women's division because in the open challenge in which he put his Presea into play, 'Rowdy' Ronda Rousey showed heel attitudes inside and outside the ring, which makes it official that her stage as a babyface fighter is over and gives us hints of what we can expect with his reign in the Blue Mark. Beyond that, what really makes last night's show go down in history is emma's return also known as Tenille Dashwood, to World Wrestling Entertainment, because his music exploded surprisingly while waiting to meet the challenging surprise to the Round Championship:

Emma has her sights set on the SmackDown Women's Championship: Although Emma failed to become Sovereign on the night of her return to WWE, the truth is that that goal still stands. This was revealed in an interview that was conducted later that same night in which he assured that after his fight with Ronda understood what she must do to become the owner of the Presea: "I can't express how good it feels to be back. I've waited five years for this night, five years to make sure I'm never forgotten again. And now, I know exactly what I have to do to be the Champion. The talented Australian fighter appeared in WWE for the first time in 2011;. From there she would have a remarkable career in NXT that looked quite promising, however. Thank you for sharing your time and enjoying this passion with WWE WRESTLING. The best wrestling and wrestling information, interviews, videos, coverage and live monitoring. Do not forget that you can directly access all WWE news and of next PPV WWE CROWN JEWEL that will take place on November 5. For More Information Visit These Articles: - William Regal talks about his meeting with MJF – Wrestling WWE - William Regal talks about his meeting with MJF – Wrestling WWE - Shinsuke Nakamura will fight on January 1 at NOAH - Shayna Baszler reveals why she doesn’t betray Ronda Rousey - AEW announces tournament for a title opportunity – WWE Wrestling - Mike Tyson will return to All Elite Wrestling – WWE Wrestling - Two new title matches added to WWE Crown Jewel - WWE Crown Jewel card for November 5 - Spoilers for the WWE SmackDown show on November 4 Read the full article

#Emma'sfirststatementsafterherreturntoWWE

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juanarcthethird · 2 years

Text

An Opportunity Has Arrive V6

At Junior’s Club

Jaune: Are we allow to be here?

Yang: Relax, I been here before. Just need to talk with junior, get the info that I need, and we are out of here.

Jaune: I’m still don’t understand why you ask me to help you with this.

Yang: I need it some back up just in case, and you were de only one available.

Jaune: backup, that’s the part worry’s me.

Yang: Your will be fine. You are a better fighter now. You need to be more confident in yourself.

Jaune: I’m just being realistic.

The arrive at the bar and see junior.

Yang: *Smile* Hello junior

Junior: *Annoyed* Not you again. What do you want?

Yang: I just want some info. *takes out some lien and put it on the table* I’m paying this time.

Junior: Good, something to drink?

Yang: Two strawberry sunrise for me and my friend *Points at jaune*

Junior start to make the drinks.

Jaune: Sooo what now?

Yang: Just keep an eye out while I talk with him.

Junior: Here are your drinks.

Yang and junior start talking while Jaune looks around.

Jaune: There’s a lot of lights here.

Without knowing some one bump into him. Making him drop his drink on his pants.

????: *Worry* Im so sorry, I didn’t see you there.

????: Way to go sis.

????: Shut it!

Jaune: *Tries to clean himself up with a napkin* Is ok, accident’s happen. So don’t worry about um…

Melanie: Melanie, my name is Melanie, and this is my sister Miltiades.

Miltiades: But you can call me Miltia

Jaune: Nice to meet you. My name is Jaune arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue, ladies love it. *Realize what he just said and covers his face from embarrassment* I’m sorry, I trying to stop saying that.

The twins giggle

Melanie: I think is cute. Hey, we work here and we have a dryer that you can use for your pants.

Miltia: In the mean time, you can use one of the dress pants the other “Employees” use.

Jaune: *Smiles* Thank you. Just let me tell my friend about it. *Turns to yang* Hey yang I’m just going to leave for a moment. I drop my drink on my pants and they told me I can use their dryer.

Yang: *Doesn’t look at him* Ok, have fun.

Later the went to the second floor. Melanie opens the door and enters first, follow by Jaune and then Miltia. Jaune looks around and…

Jaune: *Nervous* I don’t see a dryer here

He hears the door getting lock behind him. He turns around and sees Miltia at the door giving him a seductive smile and then looks at Melanie.

Melanie: *Open a bag that is in one of the corners of the room* I’m sorry for doing this to you, but this was the only way to bring you here.

Jaune: *Worry* W-what do you girls want from me?

Miltia: *Hugs him from behind* Relax, big guy. We just want to get a little taste~

Jaune: *Very worry* W-what do you mean by that?

Melanie: *Takes out a cámara and start to set it up* We saw your videos, love your work by the way, and…

Miltia: *Rubs his chest* …We like it so much that we become your fans.

Jaune: *Still worry* How did you guys find out it was me on the videos? They hide my face.

Melanie: *Points the cámara do the bed* Yes, they hide your face, but not your sexy body.

Miltia: *Rubing his abs* My sister has a good eye and from your reaction, she was right.

Melanie: *Bed is in frame and recording* So we created this plan to get you alone, and it work. *Sits on the bed seductively* So big guy, would you like to give your lovely fans a demonstration.

Jaune: I’m sorry I came with my friend and at any mo-

Miltia: Don’t worry, we ask our friend junior to keep her busy.

Melanie:*smiles* You know how hard it is to find information. Finding the right file, checking the sources, a lot of work.

Jaune: I’m sorry but I-

Melanie: To get out of this room you’ll need a set of numbers for the passcode at the door, and we are the only ones that knows it.

Jaune: *Realize what she meant by that statement* I see, I guess I don’t have a choice.

Miltia: *Giggles* I’m going to love this. *Start to unbuckle his pants.*

Jaune: *Looks down at her hands* Wow! You are aggressive.

Melanie: *Stands up* We both are.

Jaune: *Looks up* Wha-Mmm *Gets kiss*

Meanwhile

Yang: WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE COMPUTER JUST EXPLOITED?!

Junior: It happen all the time, believe. Don’t worry, I’m getting my back up soon.

Yang: HOW LONG?!

Junior: About 3 hours should be enough.

Yang: *Annoyed* AAAGGH!!!

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goingmorry · 3 years

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Hello! Can you write monster trio reaction to someone flirting with their crush? Please ☀💛

[One Piece Headcanons] Monster Trio -> when someone flirts with their crush

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji Tags: female reader, jealous boys Author's Note: Thank you for the request! I love me some jealous boys. There's something about it that just hits right with me. 💖

MONKEY D. LUFFY

One clueless boi.

Figures out that he has a crush on you when he explains how he feels about you to Usopp.

Doesn't quite know how to express his feelings for you in a way that you'll understand.

Interrupts the other person from flirting with you.

"Hey, I found you!"

Barging in from god knows where, Luffy interrupts the man's playful antics by sandwiching himself in the tight space between you and the stranger.

Caught off-guard, the flirtatious man begins to shove the pirate captain away from his face, resulting in Luffy's muscular torso squeezing against your much softer one. The feel of his solid body against yours is enough to cause you to blush, prompting you to create some distance by pushing him away to the side.

"Listen, pal—" the man begins, about to give the straw hat pirate a piece of his mind for violating your personal space, but not before getting rudely interrupted again.

"Who's this guy?"

"An acquaintance," you pipe up instantly in response to your captain's inquiry, omitting the piece of information where this stranger spent the last twenty minutes hitting on you.

Apologizing for your captain's childish behavior, you give him a brief rundown of who precisely the straw hat-wearing pirate is.

"I'll call him porcupine from now on," Luffy says, pleased with the nickname given to the man sitting across from you, "Since he has spiky brown hair that reminds me of a porcupine!"

"I appreciate you taking the time to ask me out," you address the stranger, grabbing hold of Luffy's stretchy arm in the process, "But I don't think this is gonna work."

Pleased with the way events were unfolding, Luffy flashes you a toothy grin to which you cock an eyebrow in response.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"I-I don't know what you mean," he says, puckering his lips to the side. A telltale sign of an obvious lie.

You can't help but feel ridiculous for having a crush on the most insufferable pirate captain in all of existence, hoping that he, too, feels the same way as you do.

RORONOA ZORO

Only recently comes to terms with his feelings for you.

Hasn't figured out how he'll confess.

After all, romantic love is uncharted territory for him.

Won't really do anything unless he feels that you're in danger.

Pretends to be preoccupied with something else; ends up eavesdropping on your conversation with the flirtatious individual.

Inwardly though, he's more bothered than he lets on.

"Hey, I was wondering if you'd like to grab a coffee with me? I'd love to show you around town," the man says to you earnestly.

The sound of steel clashing against metal echoes loudly enough to startle people, their heads swiveling toward the origin of the noise.

In the corner of the room, the one-eyed swordsman sits upright, body tense in concentration while meticulously polishing Wado Ichimonji, one of his three signature blades.

Zoro ignores the curious looks thrown his way, focused instead on your interaction with the man in front of you.

The stranger's proposal was genuine enough. Objectively, he was undoubtedly an attractive man. Friendly and polite too from your conversations with him throughout the night.

He just... wasn't your type.

You were more interested in rougher-looking men. Someone who was strong but would never abuse their strength to harm the weak. Someone who was stoic but also had a heart of gold. Someone like—

Zoro glances in your direction, seeing the hesitation on your face in accepting the man's offer.

"Sorry, I don't think I can make it. I promised to do something with a friend," you explain, settling with a half-assed excuse for fear of confrontation.

It wasn't exactly a lie, not really. You did have plans to retrieve some supplies with a certain green-haired swordsman, though they weren't until much later in the day. But this man didn't need to know that.

Zoro wouldn't mind if you used him as an excuse.

The Pirate Hunter's shoulders relax considerably at your statement, switching his attention from you back to his current task.

Face expressing his disappointment at your rejection, the man's posture visibly deflates. "Maybe the next day then?" he adds as an afterthought.

Biting your lip guiltily, you shake your head, stray hair falling across your forehead. "Sorry, I can't. Our crew is leaving tomorrow night."

"Damn," the man says, scratching the back of his head in awkwardness before adopting a fake smile — one you choose to let slide. "I'm gonna miss you. After all, it's not every day that I get to meet such a fine young lady with the guts to traverse the terrors of the Grand Line. You take care of yourself, all right?"

"You flatter me," you giggle, cheeks tinged pink at the man's sincere compliment, "And likewise."

At the sound of your unrestrained laughter, Zoro pauses, deeply craving for the moment that he, too, becomes the recipient of your happiness.

SANJI

The person who flirts with you, his precious lady, better prepare for some ass-whooping.

Technically, Sanji can't call you his — not yet — though he has been thinking of the perfect way to confess to you.

Still, even though you're not officially together, he'll never not be feral when you're involved.

Deliberating for a few seconds before gesturing toward you, the stranger places his order with the barkeep and says, "And anything the pretty lady desires."

Pointer finger circling the rim of your shot glass in consideration, you smile at the stranger in gratitude. "In that case, I'll take another round then."

Exchanging a round of pleasantries and small talk, you and the stranger become reasonably familiar with one another.

Familiar enough to know that this man would rather whisk you away to a more private setting than converse with you under the public's watchful eye.

"I know of a better way we can spend the night together," he murmurs suggestively, low enough for you to hear despite the idle chatter in the background.

"Do you now?"

You weren't returning his flirtatious words, but you weren't exactly declining them either until you spot a tuft of blond hair in the corner of your vision, striding toward you with purpose.

When Sanji arrives, he's gushing praise and amorous advances, all for you. Ignored and uncomfortable with watching another man proclaim his underlying love and devotion to you, your newfound drinking buddy clears his throat to get your attention, earning a scornful glare from the cook.

"Who's this shitty and rude bastard?"

Unsurprising to you, Sanji doesn't even try to act civil. Your drinking buddy, however, is astonished by the cook's open hostility, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Sanji doesn't buy the man's innocent charade, one eye squinting in distrust as he presses on, "I asked you a question."

Leaving out his invitation to you for more lewd nightly activities, your drinking buddy settles for a half-truth, "Just a guy she met at the bar."

Amused with the blond's jealous streak, you decide to cut in before things escalate beyond your control, "Any particular reason you're here, Sanji?"

At the sweet lull of your voice calling his name, the cook resumes his lovestruck behavior with a hint of seriousness when he whispers the sobering news to you, "Marines were recently spotted in town. We're leaving, my dear."

Seizing the opportunity, Sanji offers his hand, palm up, for you to take, and the significance of his action is not lost to you.

You recall his strict policy for only using his hands for cooking — how, as a child, Sanji found solace from abuse by preparing meals for his sickly mother, sparking his lifelong interest in the culinary arts.

Touched, you place your hand in his, a picture-perfect rendition of a prince charming whisking away his lovely bride-to-be. You tell him exactly that, and he graces you with an amused chuckle and a soft smile.

If only people knew the real reason you and him were fleeing the scene.

"Let me be your Mr. Prince then."

Your delicate hand dwarfs in comparison to his larger one, but that doesn't stop you from interlocking your fingers together like two intimate lovers.

Neither one of you says anything else, coming to the same silent conclusion that your growing feelings for each other would have to be addressed sometime soon.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #sanji x reader #monster trio #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #one piece writing #mywriting

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pastxlscorp · 3 years

Text

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.2)

Chapter II: Exigence

✿ Word Count: 2.6k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Mitsuya POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, manga spoilers, slight angst + smut

“You look so pretty while you’re sleeping.”

The tender voice-- so gentle, so sweet-- it began to echo within his mind. He, at first, had thought he was dreaming but that voice-- oh that beautiful voice, it tempted him so dearly. He began to chase the voice, following it through the mess of his mind, his thoughts, firmly clasping it and--

It isn’t you.

He opened his eyes, closing them instantly again as the light burned them intensely. He waited a few seconds before trying again, his eyes beginning to readjust as the light became calmer and more bearable. He was face to face with a woman-- he couldn’t seem to recognize her. Her voice, her pleasant voice… it had sounded too similar to your own, he could’ve sworn it was you, laying beside him naked with your head drooping over him as you admired him sleeping. Looking closer upon the woman in front of him, he recognized her as one of his classmates and member of his Home-Economics club. It began to come back to him slowly, how exactly he ended up here. It was just the usual after all, sleeping with women to satisfy his needs-- or rather, his suppressed desires.

He happened to only share one class with you-- of course, it was Designer-101. In this class, the professor would instruct and teach you about the most trendy styles going on, or some older styles that were coming back in fashion and how to incorporate them into your works. It was a very intricate class but you both were determined to accomplish your dreams, even if it meant passing this dread of a course. However, as hard as it might be, Mitsuya fully enjoyed every aspect of the course because it was fun to clash styles, colors, and fabrics just to accomplish the final design. He had noticed you took great pride in this class, too, and even incorporated these color schemes into your lighting and filter ideas. While he’d never admit it to your face, his heart fluttered seeing your eyes gloss over your masterpiece and grin, taking a few moments to admire your work. He rarely bothered you in this case for this exact reason, although he couldn’t help the occasional tease, just to see your squirm.

┃ “Y/N, dear, are you alright? You seem to be struggling a little bit with this embroidery pattern.”

┃ “Sorry, Professor! I’ll get the hang of it quickly, I’m sure, just a small obstacle!” You reassured him, giving him the warm smile Mitsuya mourned losing and wished he could see from the receiving end just once more.

Unbeknownst to you, Mitsuya had eavesdropped on the entire conversation table next to yours. You had attempted to choose a seat that was far away from him, but he picked up on that quite quickly and decided, just out of spite, to sit the table directly horizontal from you. Desperately yearning for a small scrap of your attention, he quickly stepped besides the Professor but composed himself before saying

┃ “Professor, if I may… since Y/N seems to be having a rough time, I can help them out. If that’s with your permission, of course, sir.” He said with that bastardly shit-eating smile that made your stomach turn inside out while wrapping his arm around your shoulder. It was the smile that captivated teachers with it’s innocence and purity-- if only they knew that it was the mischievous smile that you were accustomed to seeing after he was done with you.

Before you could offer a rebuttal, your professor smiled genuinely and nodded, thanking Mitsuya before walking off and mumbling how he was such a good kid. As soon as your Professor had made it to the other side of the enormous classroom, Mitsuya turned to you, shit-eating grin beginning to form into a devious smirk as he finally had some alone-time with you.

┃ “Hey baby~” His voice came out smoothly like butter, words falling out of his mouth as if this was the entire script planned out in his head. Little did you know, it was.

┃ “You’re only helping me figure this embroidery pattern out, that’s it, no rebuttals, nothing more. Got it?” You spat harshly, making that smirk on his face quickly turn into a scowl as you once more rejected any flirtatious opportunity he threw at you.

He scoffed, not acknowledging your question with a nod or even the common courtesy of a reply, but he moved off to the other side of the table to grab the needle that was engraved in the cloth you were attempting to sew on. Even though he moved on pretty quickly, your words had stung him deeply, as it made it clear to him any romantic opportunity he had with you had been reduced and diminished into nothing. He placed it in front of you, motioning his hand for you to continue what you were doing before folding them over his chest. You growled, assuming that this was him punishing you for not reciprocating his flirts. However, it ended up being the exact opposite, as he intently observed your stitch, attempting to pinpoint where you were going wrong. Your accuracy was fine, your hands enwrapped the needle firmly but gently as you intertwined it within the cloth and there, he had picked up on what you were doing wrong. He carefully set himself behind you, having his chest press against your back as he wrapped his arms around you to hold your hands. The surprise caught your breath and made it hitch, feeling his ice-cold hands gently coddle your warm ones, balancing out the heat. Catching on to your growing flustered state, he smirked but his voice disguised it perfectly as he explained your mistake to you while beginning to guide your fingers through the cloth.

┃ “Your accuracy, your grip, all of that is perfect, sweetheart. Your mistake is you pull the needle out too early before allowing it to catch proper depth within the cloth. That’s why the final design comes out messy.” He explains, his words sounding almost like a textbook, professional, informative, while also comforting your tensed shoulders with his velvety voice and pet names as he continued to guide your hands until you reached the end of the segment.

Subconsciously, you had begun to relax in his grip, leaning your back into his chest as you finally perfected the technique with little help from his assistance as he withdrew his hands and allowed you to continue without him, setting his hands on the table and caging you in. He took the moments of silence to indulge in the warmth of your back pressing against him, a moment that came so rarely yet drove him insane every time your skin happened to graze him. You, on the other hand-- your mind was far from relaxed. You questioned why he was being so tender with you when he was so rough with you earlier, unprovokingly shoving you to the ground and humiliating you in front of your classmates. You opened your mouth to question him, but reluctantly closed it once you realized you wouldn’t get a real answer if you questioned him. After all, after being so kind the next day he’d return to normal as if nothing happened-- as if there was no spark between you both. He awoke you from your thoughts by placing his fingers below your chin, softly lifting your face to meet his own.

┃ “Cat got your tongue? Or maybe I will, soon~” he giggled to himself, grinning down at you, this time a genuine smile that expressed pure delight.

┃ “What happened to us, Mitsuya?” You bluntly asked, causing him to tense, his smile forming into a poker face as he contemplated your question carefully.

Months-- months ago, you were standing there after school after one of their club meetings next to the campus entrance, waiting for someone as she told him. He offered to wait with you but you told him it was okay-- no, you shooed him off, giving him some excuse as to why he couldn’t wait with her. A little arrow pierced through his lovestruck heart but he nodded and walked away, however he did not leave. He remained across the street hiding in the corner, far enough for her to not notice he still remained on campus grounds but close enough to still see her patiently waiting. He insisted his duty as her club president was to watch over her and ensure her safety, of course, there was nothing special about that. Any club member would do a little spying just to ensure their kohai’s well-being. She was pushing him away, that wasn’t normal, so surely something must be wrong. That was when that little shit Takemichi came along and his mouth fell open, in shock she knew a loser like him. Hanagaki Takemichi did not attend their university, however, he was a part of Toman, which was still growing in power. Takemichi had only joined recently but he had quickly won the hearts of Mikey and Draken, therefore anyone would think Mitsuya liked him too. How far from the truth that statement was-- Mitsuya despised Takemichi. His dumbass couldn’t fight for shit-- no brains nor brawn. During the fight with Valhalla, he was tasked with saving Baji and couldn’t even do so. Thankfully, Baji had survived his stab wounds, although the doctors informed Mitsuya and the others he was very lucky to have lived. On lesser issues, Takemichi also shows no signs of respect-- going as far as to punch the recently appointed 3rd division captain, Kisaki Tetta. What the fuck were you doing with someone like him? He watched your interaction so diligently, taking every note of laughter, smiles, and nods you gave Takemichi until Mitsuya began to feel himself clutching his knuckles so tight they looked like they were about to pop right out of his fists. Was everything you had gone through for the past few months nothing more than a game? Had he misunderstood your feelings-- was there really no spark between you both? The thought of this made his stomach drop, hitting him like a truck. No no, that was clearly the case, there was no other reason why you'd giggle so much around Takemichi, smile at him so fondly, or gaze at him as your eyes began to sparkle whenever he got enthusiastic about whatever the fuck it was he was talking about.

The next thing he knew, he was yelling at you after club hours the next day, shouting about how much of a dumbass you were, and how you failed to pick up on social cues around you. Many other insults came flying out his mouth, hitting you like bricks, piling up and causing the tears to build up. Truthfully, the entire situation was an entire blur to him. All he could remember was the close proximity of your faces as he yanked your chain when you attempted to talk back, which is when he noticed the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall if provoked any further. You were released from his grip instantly and in a calm voice, he allowed you to exit, a loud sniffle accidentally slipping out of your lips as you ran out of the room before he could see you cry. He stared at you blankly, reminiscing before releasing your chin from his gentle fingers and backing away from you as he replied:

┃ “I could ask you the same.”

You remained looking at him for a few moments, before deciding it wasn’t worth engaging with him. He watched as you carried your project back to your designated locker, locked it, and put on your backpack before asking the professor if you could leave since it was time to go. Glancing at his watch, he announced class was dismissed and you quickly rushed out before bumping into Hakkai directly outside the door to the left, who was waiting for Mitsuya. You apologized to him instantly, to which he smiled and patted your head. A conversation ensued between the two of you and as Mitusya walked out, he saw the two of you engaging and laughing. It almost identically mimicked the way you acted with Takemichi, innocently smiling and staring at him so adoringly. He envied the comfortability you both shared in your relationship, the air bubbling with chemistry. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s staring until one of his club members taps his shoulder, greeting him and complimenting his outfit.

┃ “Hey, Kashi! Love your jacket, is it new?”

Now he’s here, back at his place with one of his kohai’s as he pushes her into the wall, roughly kissing her and quickly unbuttoning her shirt as she unzips his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and soon the rest of their clothes follow. Moans and groans fill the room, although most of them are hers. He’s painfully silent throughout their session, too frustrated to really focus on her-- however, she’s too accentuated on her own pleasure to notice he’s simply using her as a stress reliever and nothing more. There’s nothing wrong with her, she’s beautiful, she’s skilled, talented, kind, but she’s simply not you. She looks nothing like you but her voice, oh god her voice, it sounded almost just like yours. Her moans made his skin heat up, imagining it was your warm silky hands embracing him, you begging him to love you more. It was enough to satisfy him for now, just enough to pretend the woman he was pleasuring so much was you. She moaned his name and he bit his lip, using all of his might to fight the instinct to moan out your name instead. His slams grew harsher and tougher, releasing all of that pent up desire and anger in single strokes. The rest of the night was a blur, as soon as he pulled off the condom he went to sleep, bored of her.

┃ “Kashi~”

He sighed, remembering his idiocy of yesterday evening and how he’d now have to gently reject this girl without letting her know he simply used her as a distraction. He spent a good minute contemplating her name before she spoke to him again.

┃ “Kashi? You alright?”

┃ “Mmh, sorry... just tired.”

┃ “Ah, it’s fine sleepyhead~ you know, yesterday was really fun, we should do it more often. How about a date tonight?.”

┃ “Awh...dear… that’s awfully sweet of you… I’m just not looking for something serious right now. I’m just into one-night stands at the moment.”

┃ “Oh… oh! Maybe we could be sex partners then?”

┃ “Ah, Sure… sure.” He privileged her with a smile of pure pity, relaxing his head back on the pillow, hoping to drift back to sleep so once he awoke she’d be long gone. The plan was if she ever reached out for sex again, he’d just come up with some excuse on how he was busy finishing a project. His mind drifted off, thinking about seeing you in class, only to remember it was a Saturday and that meant he didn’t have class with you-- in fact, Saturday’s were a relatively free day for him. He booked himself with classes every other day and decided he should have at least one day off. You know what that meant? He’d have to fucking dread it with this chick until she took the hint and left. The faster he fell asleep, the sooner this day would be over. He didn’t bother to listen to the woman as she continued speaking to him, closing his eyes as he censored her out and slowly drifted back to sleep.

tags: @haiq-trash, @blackmysticalsimp @the2ndl @bren-heron

a/n: f in the chat for anyone who thought bully! Mitsuya had healthy coping mechanisms, also you should check out @darenimo if you already haven't because she helped me proofread this chapter and gave me all of her commentary while reading it and I sobbed for a good 10 minutes straight. I love she.

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mbti-notes · 3 years

Note

INFJ. Processing past Fe failures. Want to get better at socializing / having deeper relationships/friendships. Muddling through Ti development - desiring to get better at self-awareness + communication. A lot in my brain and it'd be a lot to share the entirety of recent exchanges that have ended up in failed relationships, so I'll try asking this and hope it's enough to get critical thinking help from you, thank you much in advance. (1/2)

[con't: I notice a pattern of me trying to communicate and express myself to be understand by, or be emotionally met by Fi users, and them responding by saying things like "I don't know what you want from me", "I don't know how to help you," "I'm sorry you feel that way" or them even saying variations of "Maybe you're not used to my communication style" (ENTJ) if I express that I feel dismissed, uncomfortable, or disrespected.

This isn't ALL Fi users thank God & I'm in therapy now to address my downplaying of my emotional needs, being willing to work through anything even though the romantic relationships I'm attracting are woefully incompatible or unhealthy. But I want to get better at doing my part to increase the chance of relationships building. What am I doing/expecting/judging in my communication with Fi users so they respond that way or has me feeling being unseen/misunderstood? Is it the basic INFJ recs?]

You point to Fi specifically. Fi doesn't require outside validation, so perhaps what you're encountering is their lack of concept of outside validation, in the manner that you're seeking it with Fe.

All of those example statements sound like they could be taken sincerely. "I don't know what you want from me" could be an opportunity for you to better explain what you need/want. "I don't know how to help you" could be an opportunity for you to provide better instructions. "I'm sorry you feel that way" could be a helpless admission that the two of you don't see things the same way. "Maybe you're not used to my communication style" could be an indication that there is a need to investigate the big gap between what was perceived and what was actually intended.

Not everyone is going to see eye-to-eye with you, not everyone is going to agree with your version of events, not everyone is going to care about your needs and feelings enough to address them kindly and patiently. This should all be okay with you unless you were walking around expecting everyone out there to have the capacity to meet you emotionally or validate your emotions (unhealthy Fe)? That's simply not gonna happen, so it's an unreasonable expectation. That's why it's so important that YOU be the first to take care of yourself and own your emotions, set proper personal boundaries, and navigate interpersonal boundaries more gracefully.

If you feel someone has violated your boundary (i.e. you feel hurt by them), the answer isn't to violate theirs in return. You're trying to fix a problem in the relationship, so further damaging the relationship isn't going to help. Whether you are right to feel hurt is not the main issue. Feelings themselves are always true and tell you something true about you. However, what you DO about the feelings isn't always right. There are two main ways people deal with negative feelings: 1) bottle them up, which amounts to self-harm, or 2) express them, which opens up the possibility of doing harm to others, if they don't have the means to process your feelings. Neither way is ideal.

If your main approach is to expect people to change (when they can't or don't want to), expect them to give you more than they are capable of giving (due to not having the means or resources), expect them to understand something that they are not really capable of understanding (when they just don't think in the same way as you), etc, your expectations are easily perceived as "demands". You're essentially pressuring people to be what you want them to be, which amounts to dishonoring them and violating their boundary. This approach is usually met with submission or resistance. If they submit to you (because they care for you), they will be unhappy for having allowed you to violate their boundary, and the problem will recur because it was only swept under the rug. If they resist you, conflict ensues, and the relationship bond will be tested and possibly threatened, especially if the conflict recurs without resolution.

There is a way to honor your feelings while also honoring others' feelings. It requires you to have good emotional intelligence and be a good communicator. Good emotional intelligence means respecting your feelings and taking full responsibility for them. Instead of seeing yourself as the victim (i.e. "you made me feel this way"), you see yourself as an agent with the power to decide what is best (i.e. "I feel this way and this is what I should do about it"). Positioning yourself as a passive or helpless victim means that you cast blame and eventually demand reparations. Positioning yourself as an active and influential agent means that you survey the situation objectively and then try to act in the best interests of everyone involved. This is what healthy and confident Fe should look like.

For example, when you feel dismissed, maybe you bottle it up for awhile, until you can't take it anymore (because the problem remains unaddressed). Then you confront people and say, "I feel dismissed". This implies that the other person has done something bad to you. You are the victim, which puts them on the spot, feeling like the bad guy, and then they can't hear you, due to becoming too preoccupied with not wanting to be the bad guy. Communication is likely to stall there, unless they have the wherewithal (emotional intelligence) to keep their focus on you and your concerns.

Instead, you could say to yourself, "I feel dismissed". You take full responsibility for your feelings and validate them for yourself. When you are good at validating your own feelings and emotions (something you admit you really struggle with), you'll eventually find that you won't need to rely on others to do it for you.

What does it mean to feel dismissed? It means that you believe you're not being taken seriously, or something to that effect. Not very difficult to understand. What to do about it? The feeling of disharmony is a message to you that you have to do more to advocate for yourself and make space for yourself within the relationship/group (it is good Fe advice). There are many ways to advocate for yourself without stepping on others. If you choose the right way, in terms of honoring everyone involved, the feeling of being dismissed will dissipate naturally. If you choose the wrong way, in terms of honoring yourself but dishonoring others, you'll encounter the problem again, because you haven't addressed the underlying problem of you positioning yourself as the victim in every relationship conflict. Chronic victim mentality is often an indication that you depend too much on outside validation of your self-worth.

Unless you are stuck in a very toxic social environment, the majority of people are not malicious for no reason. Before accusing or blaming, are you absolutely certain that they INTENDED to dismiss you? If not, wouldn't it be wise to gather more info? For instance, you could ask something like, "Have you had the time to give my idea serious consideration?" No blaming, no battling, no victim-victimizer dynamic. Do you understand how communicating without blame, through genuine inquiry, avoids trapping the both of you in a vicious cycle of seeking emotional reparations? You give people the benefit of the doubt. You give people the chance to clarify or explain. You give yourself the chance to grasp the FULL picture so that you can make a more informed decision about what to do (based on their response to your question). But this presence of mind isn't possible when you can't accept your feelings/emotions and they run wild as a result.

One common misapplication of Ti is the tendency to jump to illogical conclusions or make up illogical stories about what is motivating people's negative behavior, all the while believing that you're being completely logical. It's a destructive way to deal with negative or disharmonious feelings. Once the false narrative infects your mind, you can't help but perceive the person as attacking you, even when they're not. This misuse of Ti is a major impediment to relationship building.

The problem with victim mentality is that you are hyperfocused on your perspective only, so you only have half the picture, which means making ill-informed decisions. If you are prone to Ti loop, you need to get to the bottom of why you're so quick to position yourself in the passive position of victim. A healthy relationship should be an equal partnership based on trust, which means that you should always try to 1) give people the benefit of the doubt, and 2) gather the facts of the situation before drawing a conclusion about what they intended or what kind of character they are.

If the fact of the matter is that the person really doesn't care about your feelings, then you know not to seek validation from them, and perhaps distance from them for your own good. Don't play around in toxic or abusive relationships. If the fact of the matter is that your perception of the situation doesn't match up with what they intended to say/do, then it's up to you to straighten out the situation in your mind before proceeding.

Trust your feelings, validate your feelings, but don't act blindly on them (i.e. without fully grasping what's happening with the other person). Figure out why exactly you're feeling what you're feeling, then take it up with the person in a way that addresses the root of the problem and in a way that doesn't immediately put them on the defensive. Conflict is sometimes unavoidable, but being more skilled at communicating your concerns will certainly reduce the amount of pain required to reach a resolution.

#infj #infj relationships #emotional intelligence #auxiliary fe #ti loop #communication #self worth #victim mentality #boundaries #relationships #conflict #ask

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Tolerate It

Summary: Reader struggles with feeling like Hotch is growing distant.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Category: fluff/angst

Warnings: the reader has thoughts/feelings of inadequacy

Word Count: 3200+

Notes: This is my entry for @railmereid‘s 2k writing challenge! It was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song tolerate it! I think there’s only one direct quote (I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life).

You met Aaron on accident. It could be said that a lot of people are met on accident, and that’s just how people meet other people. But with Aaron it felt different. It felt as though every little thing that went wrong that day lead you to the accident that would introduce Aaron Hotchner into your life.

After the shit show that was today, all you want to do is get home and sleep. Maybe also eat dinner, but honestly even food is on the backburner of your mind right now.

Your drive home from work was the first uneventful thing to happen all day, a necessary moment of peace. You made it into your apartment without any trouble, swiftly moving to change into your fluffiest pajamas and sleep.

The second your head hit your pillow, the fire alarm sounded. The blaring alarm screeched in your ears as you groaned. You forced yourself out of bed to comply with the alarm. Without thinking, you put on your slippers, grabbed your keys, and walked out the front door.

Once you made it to the street, you turned to see the building really was on fire. It looked contained to one patio, but it was big enough for you to give up your plans of sleep. Instead, you chose to turn on your heel and walk down the street to escape the crowd.

You didn’t have a plan as to where you were going. You just wanted it to be quiet. Before long, you found yourself in a park. Looking around, you spotted an empty bench. Perfect. You can just sit, enjoy the quiet of the park for however long it takes to fix the fire issue.

You start trekking toward the bench, now walking with a purpose, when you notice a man chasing his child. The child laughs loudly, joy so clear on his face. The man smiles at him, still running behind him.

His smile is so infectious, it has its own magnetic force pulling you towards him. Switching directions from the bench, you are now walking toward the grassy area they are playing in, not looking at your surroundings. You’re so captivated by the happiness on display in front of you, you don’t notice the change in terrain.

You end up tripping on a rock, falling and tumbling down the slight decline to land in a heap at the feet of the very man whose smile distracted you.

To make matters worse, he was not stationary. No, that would have been to simple. He was, in fact, still chasing the child. So, rather than rolling to a stop and looking up at him, you rolled right into him, causing him to lose his balance and fall over you.

The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs piled on top of each other. Slowly, carefully the two of you separated, gingerly moving arms and legs to avoid further injury. Helping each other rise from the ground, you were both speechless, equal parts amused and horrified at what just happened.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped at the sudden intrusion that brought you back to reality. Spinning around, you realized it was the child.

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to form a response. “Oh, um... yes I’m okay. Thank you.” Turning back to the man, you finally realized what just happened. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He chuckled, a small smirk appearing on his face before he replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh, good.” Your relief was short lived as you realized what you were wearing and how you were dressed. “Please tell me you didn’t see me roll all the way down the hill?” You cringed at the thought.

“I could say it, but it wouldn’t be very honest.” Again, a small laugh left his lips.

“Do you think we could pretend?” You took a deep breath as he quirked his eyebrow. “Ya know, that I didn’t just make a complete fool of myself?”

“But that’s not true! Daddy said when something’s not true it’s a lie and lies are bad.” The boy chimed in again, earning a chuckle from both adults. You bent down to talk to him.

“You are absolutely right, lying is bad.” You nodded along with him, matching his serious expression.

He took in your expression, as if judging the sincerity of your statement. Slowly, a smile began to form as if he was glad you agreed with him. “Do you want to play tag with us?”

Looking from him to his father, you took the slight smile and nod of his head as an invitation to accept his offer. “I would love to.”

That series of accidents led you to where you are now, though. A year and a half later you are sitting in your shared home, watching Aaron Hotchner do paperwork for what feels like the millionth night in a row. More realistically, it is the ninth night in a row, but you’re feeling lonely and dramatic. Those nine nights have been spread out over the past month, interrupted by nights he spends away from home.

You yearn to be closer to him. All it would take is for you to cross the room, but it feels as though the distance from the couch you are lounging on to the desk he is working at is too far, like there is some impassible divide preventing you from interrupting him.

So you just keep watching. It has been 36 minutes since you started your observing. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll pause in nine minutes to stretch, giving him the opportunity to notice your eyes on him. You’re hopeful that this time he’ll smile when he sees you.

So you wait. You watch him read. You notice the way his head dips just a bit lower as he tries to focus tired eyes on the smudged handwriting of a fellow agent. You notice how his hand squeezes the pen tighter than before, turning the once smooth glide of ink across the page into rushed, jagged strokes of letters. You notice the barely there wince as he flips the page, the result of the familiar feeling of a paper cut he’s grown all too used to. You notice everything he does. Which is why you’re not surprised when he speaks.

“You’re staring.”

Glancing at your phone, you note the time. Nine minutes later. Right on schedule. The smile you hoped for is noticeably missing, replaced by a curious tilt of his head.

“I’m basking in your presence.”

If he wanted to, he could figure out how lonely and dramatic you are feeling. But with the majority of his energy still directed towards the many reports on his desk, he only notices the surface level. Tired, slightly miffed, but enjoying that he is home.

There was once a time when he would have noticed it all though. A time when he noticed everything about you, sometimes before you had even noticed it about yourself. You’ve learned how to hide it though, to save him the energy that would be expended to profile you.

“You should consider a new career path. Comedy could really be for you.”

His deadpan joke doesn’t surprise you, but him rising from his desk chair does. For a minute, you expect him to come to you. To attempt to cross the impassible divide you’ve built in your head. Instead, he turns into the kitchen. He pauses at the island, drinking from the glass he never brings to his desk to prevent anything from ruining his files.

When he returns to his desk, squandering any lingering hope that he may have been done for the night, you rise. Unwilling to do what you had hoped of him, you turn away from his desk and move toward the stairs. Just before you lose sight of him, you turn back.

“Don’t forget to sleep tonight.”

Your tone is soft, emphasizing your concern to cover up the lingering loneliness.

“I’ll be up soon.”

You respond with a slight nod of your head, another thing unnoticed by Aaron as his eyes never left the files.

You flitter through the second level as you complete your routine to prepare yourself to sleep for the night.

You can’t help but notice the cold sheets on the empty side of the bed as you wait for Aaron, knowing you’ll likely be asleep before he comes to bed.

You’re surprised to wake up the next morning with Aaron still in bed next to you. You watch his chest rise and fall with the steady in and out of his breath. His face is fully relaxed, a sight you so rarely get to see.

You’re not sure how long you watch him sleep, but you notice when his rhythmic breathing changes pattern indicating he’s waking up. His eyes flutter open slowly, allowing you to see the exact moment he notices you.

“You’re staring again.”

The smile you are still hoping for is again absent from his face, too used to the frown that has taken over his features near permanently for the past month.

“I’m still basking in your presence.”

You notice the beginnings of a grin forming on his face. The twinkle in his eyes. The slight twitch of his lips. It’s nearly there when the moment is interrupted by the distinct, shrill ringtone indicating a call from the bureau.

You watch as he sits up to answer the phone with his typical “Hotchner”. If you hadn’t spent the last year noticing everything you could about the man, you would doubt that he had been asleep less than three minutes ago.

His brows furrow, his body leaning forward to sit a little straighter as he takes in the information from whoever is on the other end of the phone. His eyes trace the pattern of your comforter, up until he throws the blanket off of himself to rise to his feet. He’s changing into his suit before hanging up. Without even hearing his responses, you can tell where this is headed.

After he hangs up, you speak before he has the chance.

“I take it you won’t be here for dinner with my parents tonight? I’ll try to reschedule it.”

The question should express your loneliness, but you do well to hide the full truth. It’s easy to sound understanding because you are. You do understand, which is why you never plan to tell him how you feel.

The grim expression is enough for you to know you’re right, you don’t need the verbal confirmation. You nod your head, a smile on your face that doesn’t meet your eyes as he walks out of your bedroom.

While Aaron was away, you did everything you could to keep yourself busy outside of your typical 9 to 5 workday. Aside from the typical reading, cleaning, and TV watching you normally do you; you successfully navigated another conversation with your parents about why it was necessary to reschedule dinner a second time and played action figures with Jack, always in agreement about how his daddy is a hero.

Every night you found yourself staring at the door, hoping it would swing open and reveal him on the other side. Every night you grew less hopeful and more discouraged than the one previous.

Five days after he left, Aaron returned to your shared home. Despite the late hour, you waited for him on the couch. Knowing he probably hadn’t eaten dinner, you kept some food warm for him.

When the door swung open, you were in front of it in seconds. You pulled him into a hug, one he was too exhausted to reciprocate, and kissed his cheek.

Moving farther into the house, he dropped his files on his desk swiftly turning to head upstairs.

“I kept dinner warm for you.”

Your words stalled him at the bottom of the stairs. He turned around slowly, barely looking at you.

“I actually ate with the team tonight.”

His words hit you like a bus, but you turned to hide it. He didn’t eat with the team often, so you never blamed him when he stayed with them a bit longer than usual.

“Oh, okay. I’ll just put it in a container for tomorrow then. Did you want to talk about the case?”

You’ve always been willing to help him carry the weight of his job, but you’ve been trying harder to get him to open up this past month. Typically he brushes you off, tells you he’s fine, and then buries himself in paperwork.

He surprised you this time. Maybe he could tell you were upset, or maybe he was just too far in his head. Either way, rather than continuing on his path up the stairs, he moved to sit in the kitchen while you put the food away.

You listened as he ranted about the local officers withholding information about the case. You listened as he complained about the poor weather. You listened to every word, slowly washing and drying the dishes until they were sparkling. You listened until you were practically asleep, leaning against the sink. You didn’t dare to interrupt in fear he would shut down again. Or maybe it was you shutting down, but that’s a thought for another time.

When he finished talking, he rose from his chair, too worked up to sleep now, he sat down at his desk.

You watched, noticing everything you could.

Your weeks repeated much the same for the next few months. Your loneliness morphed into something new with each night you spent watching Aaron work.

It’s one such night when everything changes. You were trying to watch him work, but your thoughts drifted away from his actions as you lost yourself in your memories.

The first case Aaron went on after you moved in with him and Jack was the hardest for you. After a straight week of seeing him so often around the house, it felt like a slap in the face to come home and not have him there. Somehow you made it through, and you were clingier than usual when he came home.

He noticed how it affected you. That was before you started hiding your feelings from him. He told you he thought about you in every spare moment. That he wanted to solve the case even more than usual just so he could come home to see you even just a few minutes sooner.

He calmed all of your fears, protecting you from your own intrusive thoughts about holding him back when he was working.

You couldn’t help but think about every time he recognized how you were feeling and did what he could to help. How he would reassure you that he wanted to be with you, bringing you little key chains or stuffed animals from the cities he travelled to. How he would smile when he saw you. Where was that man now?

You thought back to the first day you met Aaron. It was like he saved you from a terrible day, bringing a smile to your face after hours upon hours of crap.

“Do you think we could pretend?” You laugh lightly to yourself at the memory of Jack telling you not to lie. Not realizing you spoke the words out loud, you’re surprised to hear Aaron from across the room.

“Pretend what?” The confusion is clear in his voice and the furrow of his brows.

“Hmm? Oh, um. I was just thinking about the first day we met.” Tears begin to brim your eyes as you think about how much everything has seemed to change. “And how you became my whole world and now I feel like I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life.” The tears are now freely falling down your face.

Aaron looks even more confused now. “What?” He’s frozen at his desk, pen in hand, reports on the surface in front of him.

“I’m so sorry. I just feel like I’m taking up so much of your time and you have such important things to do! God, I’m so selfish. I’ve tried so hard to hide it though, so you can focus on people who actually need your help.” The panic in your voice grows as you speak, along with the tears falling from your eyes.

“Y/N...” Suddenly, Aaron is on his feet, easily crossing the imaginary divide you’ve built in between the couch and his desk. He slows down, moving gently as he pulls you into him on the couch, moving your legs across his lap so he could pull you into his chest. “Sweetheart, you could never take up too much of my time.” He speaks slowly, so as not to start another round of sobbing.

“What?” Your confusion is clearly communicated with the one word question, but you’re on a roll with your feelings so why stop now. “Are you saying it’s all in my head? Bu-, but, but you’ve been so busy every time you’ve been home! I’ve barely seen you, and I’ve tried so hard to not let it bother me because I know how important what you do is! I do, I understand it all so much. I could never be mad at you for working so hard. I just feel like you’re tolerating me being here when you have so many more important things to do.”

Now breathless, your rant ends with more tears forming in your eyes. Aaron is quick to wipe them away as they fall. “You’re right. I have been busy.” His voice is full of concern and regret as he thinks about the past few months. “But please don’t ever doubt for a second that you are the most important thing in the world to me.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “Well, other than Jack.” This earns him a slight chuckle from you before you reply.

“Jack is the most important to me too.” Your clear your throat, hesitant to voice your next question. “You’re not mad at me?”

Aaron looks so taken aback, you would laugh if you weren’t so nervous. “I could never be mad at you. Especially not for having completely valid feelings. I’m so sorry I haven’t been as present as I should’ve been. I love you so much, Y/N. More than I could ever put into words, and I will be doing a better job of showing you just how much you mean to me from now on.” There’s a slight edge to his voice, as though he’s annoyed with himself for you feeling this way. “Please, don’t ever hide your feelings from me. I never want to lose you.” His own voice is cracking, slight tears in his eyes at the idea of you not being in his life.

“I promise.” You lean up to kiss him, trying to convey just how much you’ve missed him.

“Let’s go to bed.” He lifts you up from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs.

You shriek, clinging to him even more. “It’s only 9:15!” You laugh at his antics. “What about your reports?”

“I have more important things to do right now.” He smirks at you, quickly moving into the bedroom to show you just how much he cares about you.

permanent tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain

#renswritingchallenge #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fluff #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader

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dirty-brainrot · 3 years

Text

(Cat Cafe)

Oh god, first oneshot post... I proof-read this so many times.

Anyway,

Pairing: Jotaro Kujo³ x Reader

"Hey Jotaro, do you wanna visit a cat cafe?"

He didn't know why he agreed to his red-haired friend, he could've been doing something else like sleeping or smoking (anything that didn’t involve people, preferably). He doesn't hate exactly cats but he doesn't like them either, although he wished it was an aquatic-themed cafe instead.

After school had ended, Jotaro walked alongside Kakyoin who was pretty hyped about going to the cat cafe, he had not stopped talking about it since he mentioned it over at lunch.

The conversation was one-sided because of Jotaro's quiet nature. Sometimes he would hum or grunt in acknowledgment.

Finally arriving inside the fur-filled cafe, the two tall teens spoke to the store clerk and they went over some rules and guidelines.

Inside the cafe was decent-looking. Cute paw prints were decorating the cream walls, every object was cat-themed as expected but overall it had a vibe to it.

There were only a few people inside, talking and eating. The cat caretakers/waiters doing their job.

"Hey isn't that Y/N-chan?" Kakyoin whispered gaining Jotaro's attention and pointed at you, who was tending to a black cat.

You're friends with Kakyoin and he would sometimes invite you to have lunch with them. Jotaro doesn't mind it, as long as you're quiet and don't blast his ears off with squealing and fangirling. And of course, Jotaro intimidating the crap out of you, you barely talk with them. But there are times where you would get very talkative.

His cold gaze wandered to your figure who was indeed feeding a black cat. "Let's go find a seat, Jotaro." Kakyoin spoke and began dragging Jotaro to a table, littered with cats.

"Couldn't you at least picked a table with less cats?" He grunted, the table had at least 4 cats around it. But to poor Kakyoin's demise and Jotaro's delight, the cats started going away leaving Kakyoin to whine. "Look Jotaro! You scared them away!"

Kakyoin's whining was cut short to you arriving at their table with a black cat on your shoulder, making the cherry boy gasp.

"May I take your order?" You asked with a shy smile. It was rare to see the big bad delinquent visit a cat cafe but seeing his cherry loving friend, he was probably dragged along.

"You work here? And you have a cat on your shoulder!" Kakyoin asks along with stating the obvious that you indeed have a black cat on your shoulder. "Yes, I do. I don't know why but this lil' fella follows me everywhere." You scratched the cat's head.

"That's so cute, having a little cat follower." Outside the cafe, you would've looked like a witch but seeing that you were working in a cat cafe it was pretty normal. "Anyways, what would you like to order?"

They both looked at the menu on the table. "Do you have any cherry-flavored snacks here?" You chuckled knowing his love for cherries. "Sadly, no." Kakyoin pouted before ordering something else, Jotaro just ordered a normal latte.

"Alright, I'll be back with your orders." You said while putting down the black cat and handing them the brochure filled with information about the cute cats in the cafe.

Jotaro watched you walk away, his cold gaze never leaving your figure until he felt something soft and warm on his lap. "Oh! That one is called 'Qtaro'" Kakyoin stated with a chuckle while flipping the page of the book. "Huh, it says here that Qtaro is quite a distant cat and barely interacts with other cats..." The cat purrs on Jotaro's lap making Kakyoin smile. "Seems like Qtaro likes you."

Jotaro and the feline had a little staring contest, two ocean-colored eyes stare into each other. Soon later, you arrived with their drinks on a tray. "Here are your orders..." You trailed off, "Well, that's strange.." Whispering the last part while handing their beverages to them. "Qta never lays on people's lap aside from me."

"Oh? He kinda reminds me of Jotaro." Kakyoin took a sip of his drink, you giggled at his statement. Qtaro also reminded you of Jotaro, it was strange. Like Jotaro, the cat would stray far from people and wanted only peace, and sometimes you could feel Jotaro's gaze on you whenever you're in the same class as him same as the feline would do whenever you were working at the cafe.

"Also Y/N-chan, can you introduce some of the cats to me?" You nodded at his request. He quickly drank the rest of his drink, then stood up to follow you. The cat hopped off of Jotaro to follow you, while the huge man just watched from his chair. He doesn't know why but ever since you tagged along with Kakyoin he slowly became attracted to you.

He couldn't help but get jealous whenever Kakyoin made you smile or laugh or just get your attention in general.

Right now, you were introducing Toffee to Kakyoin. Nearly every cat ran away from him except Qtaro since he's following you but at a distance. Toffee, the most friendly and interactive cat in the cafe had rejected Kakyoin.

Kakyoin started sulking on the floor and you couldn't help but stifle your laugh. "D-don't worry Kakyoin. Pffbt- If it helps, if I ever turn into a cat I won't run away from you." Kakyoin only sulked more.

Unable to suppress your laughs, you busted out laughing. You tried to quiet down before gaining some more unwanted attention.

Unaware of the Jotaro looming behind you, you squeaked when you felt a rough hand land on your shoulder.

"Introduce me to some of the cats too." His deep voice notifying you that it was only Jotaro. He didn't know what he was doing, it just came out of his mouth. Confused at his actions, you still obliged.

"Follow me." You gently grabbed his hand on your shoulder and dragged him to the other side where cats had gathered, leaving the sulking cherry boy behind.

Both of you sat down on the floor, then you began introducing the cats to him one by one, all of them seem to have taken a liking to him. It was a cute sight, cats have gathered to Jotaro and some had even climbed onto him. Even Qtaro was on him!

"How did you manage to get their attention?! They all kept running away from me..." Kakyoin sat down beside you and pouted.

"Maybe Jotaro-kun is secretly a cat whisperer." You joked while petting a Siamese cat.

"So Y/N-chan, you never told us you work at a cat cafe!" Kakyoin said, trying to grab some of the cat's attention away from Jotaro. "Well, you never asked." You stated, grinning smugly at your sassy response.

"Touché. But when do you work here?" He asked, turning his attention fully on you since the cats won't even notice him.

"Every Wednesday to Friday at around 4:40 pm and my shift ends at 7:00 pm." You respond to him while helping Jotaro remove the cats on him.

"Oh, so that's why you don't hang out with us that often. I thought we might've scared you away." Smiling, you said "As shy as I look, you two don't scare me." Like a liar.

'Well, Jotaro-kun looks a... little scary...'

Kakyoin looked at the cute cat clock on the wall. "It's getting late... I need to go home before mom temporarily bans me from playing video games." You nodded and stood up with them.

"Oh don't worry about the drinks, I already paid for them. Think of it as a thank you for helping me last week with my math." You smiled at the cherry man, making the emo man jealous. Kakyoin rubbed the nape of his neck. "You shouldn't have..." He smiled and thanked you.

You accompanied them to the door, Kakyoin waved goodbye at you while Jotaro just nodded at you.

"Hey, Kakyoin, let's visit it again tomorrow."

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

Here's an alternate version. 🌚

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

"Oh don't worry about the drinks, I already paid for them. Think of it as a thank you for helping me last week with my math." You playfully winked at Kakyoin making him blush and stutter a thank you. From that little interaction, Jotaro had enough.

They walked outside the cafe, Kakyoin bidding you goodbye while Jotaro asked him to walk ahead. Confused by his actions, he nodded and walked away. 'He's been acting strange today... He's more quieter than he used to...'

Jotaro walked back into the cafe looking for you, your coworkers were nowhere to be seen giving him the perfect opportunity. "Oh hey Jotaro, I thought you left..?" You tilted your head in confusion as to why he hasn't gone home yet.

His cold gaze shifted to your figure and walks towards you by the cat feeding station. Unexpectedly, his hands were suddenly on the wall by your sides, trapping you. You felt your cheeks heat up "J-Jotaro..?" You whisper, starting to feel somewhat scared and intimidated by his height.

"I thought I don't scare you?" His deep gruff voice was deeper than before and his warm breath, that smelt faintly of coffee, tickled your face. "I- I-" You stuttered trying to form a sentence. He chuckled at your flushed state. You hugged the sack of cat food, trying to calm your burning face.

It was silent, besides some casual cat mewls here and there.

"Go out with me." He stated boldly which made your face much more redder than before. "H-Huh?!"

"Good grief woman, are you deaf?" His hands left your sides and went straight into his pocket, looking away he spoke again. "If you don't want to-"

"Yes!" You quickly interrupted his sentence. You could faintly see his ears turn pink as he pulled down his hat. You giggled, the redness of your face starting to fade.

"I would love to, Jotaro-kun."

#jjba jotaro #jotaro kujo #jotaro x reader #jjba x reader #jjba #jjba part 3 #jojo bizarre adventure #jojo #jojo no kimyō na bōken #x reader #jjba x you #jotaro x you #jojo jotaro #jotaro

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