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happybanana2 · 10 months

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This is what I’ve written out for Bioshock 2. I’m not a writer by any means, I did this for fun and hope others will enjoy it. I’ll be posting each chapter as I write them. I also changed around something that didn’t make sense outside playing the game itself. Let me know how you dealt with Grace Holloway too, I’m taking in the communities opinions before I get to deal with them in this fan fic (?)

They’ll be tagged with my name for easy findings as well (happybanana2)

I hope you enjoy!

A soft pitter patter of water dripping onto a metal helmet wakes a sleeping beast. Low groans echo through an empty room. Water splashes as the huge metal beast rises from the puddle he lay in. Upon looking around the room it’s lowly lit by the bioluminescence shining from aquatic plant life that’s filled the leaky room. On the far wall, behind the giant decorative globe labelled “Adonis Resort Spa”, pictures were plastered all over it. No one he recognized, still strange place to leave what almost looked like a memorial.

Radio static grabs his attention. Although faint he can hear a woman trying to get through.

“Hel-. The sign-very weak. Can you he-“ the radio static overwhelms any chance of him hearing her full message. Surely there is a place to get a better connection. The beast leans over and picks the radio attaching it to his belt. Next to a lit machine labelled “Vita-Chamber” behind him, lays a drill. Much larger than any human could carry, but he was much larger than a regular human. Wouldn’t want to walk around unprotected in this unfamiliar area. The drill easily attaches to his right arm along the metal bracing connected to his diver suit. With some protection, he looks around the room and sees a staircase heading up and out of the room.

“In the house of upside down, cellars top floor. Attics ground. In the house of upside down, laughing cries. And smiles frown. In the house of upside down. Found is lost. And lost is found.” Whispered a voice. The small whisper echoed just enough for lurking beast to hear. The sound lured him closer to the top of the stairs, his paced quickened. If only a small amount. Yet when he turned the corner at the top of the stairs there was only a golden vent. Decorated with small, intracate details, almost as to appeal to younger children. As he inspected the vent a small pair of yellow lights quickly popped up and vanished just as fast.

Not put off by this, he continued on as his hulking feet stomping along made loose rubble from the old architecture fall to the floor. The top of the stairs closed off by glowing pink coral but easy enough to break. A quick swing by his right hand, equipped with a giant drill easily broke the coral, freeing his path. Another round of static starts from his waist, but no voice or words to be made out.

*Who is this? What do they want? Where am I?* he thought. This place was familiar. If only from a dream, but it didn’t put him off as much as it should’ve. The algae covered walls seemed to continue forever until the long walkway ended in a swimming area with a large pool and surrounded by shuttered windows. Near the back of the pool sparks flew from a short circuited machine. Surely it had shorted due the leaking all around the building. He was surprised to find that the place wasn’t completely flooded.

Not even finished getting himself familiar with the area, a heart stopping screech made the beast wince. What a terrible sound, not even nails on a chalkboard sounded so foul. From one loud sound to another the screech came from a lanky metal beast. Similar to himself in armour but differed in stature, slimmer and more agile. It quickly jumped onto the still standing statue, launching itself off and up into the hole in the ceiling while the statue fell shaking the ground under him. Although unsettling, this creature, ran off. Hoping not to encounter it again, the metal beast continued to the back of the pool. Before heading into the main back room, a small red blinking light caught his attention.

*A recording device? What could be on-?*

His free hand grabbed the recording device and hit play. A woman explained how to jumpstart the generator with something called “Electro-Bolt”. That name. He had heard it before, long ago. Why couldn’t he remember anything? Not where he was, why he was there or even his name. The only hint he has was a small white triangular marking on the back of his hand.

*Delta. That’s the symbol. My name?*

Walking past the generator, into the back rooms was a steam room before the therapy spa rooms. Taking a peek at the steam room there was something written on the door. A code. Surely one to the lock right outside?

*0451. Did they get locked inside?* he questioned as he punched in the code. Sure enough the door slides open, allowing the steam to finally be released. Another recording on the ground, couple of dollars too. Never hurt to have extra money, he picked up what bills were still intact and shoved them into a pocket along his left thigh. Continuing to the back room, it was lit by a red machine with two statues of little girls on each side, labelled Gatherer’s Garden. The machine started to sing a little jingle about flowers growing. In the dispense area sat a glowing red fluid in a glass bottle. The design had a skull like face at the top with glowing red eyes to match the fluid. Children’s drawing littered area along with jars of fireflies.

~Father~ a voice flashed into his head. Calling out for her father. That voice. He recognized it but what was her name. Was he her father? Why couldn’t he remember his own daughter? More and more questions got added to his mind but he didn’t allow himself to spiral.

*Keep moving. I’ll find answers. I’ll find someone. But this…stuff. I’ll take all I can get* he grabbed the bottle of luminance, injected a clean needle labelled “Eve” from his person into the bottle, sucking up the mysterious liquid and injecting it into a small tube on his right wrist. A small prick. Little pain. Only for a moment. Suddenly he gasped, a sharp pain shot through him. He screamed but only a low growl left his mouth. His vision blurred as his head spun and he sank to his hands and knees.

As he tried to get a hold of himself a small shadow appeared.

“Daddy was sleeping, for such a long time. And Eleanor has missed you! Find her and you’ll be all better!” she smiled and stepped towards him holding a small handmade doll. Her eyes glowing yellow. Even the where it was supposed to be white. Just as his vision refocused the child was snatched by the lanky screaming metal being.

“DADDY!!” She screamed as she was zipped away to god knows where. The doll fell onto the floor. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that it was an eerie lookalike to himself. A small watch face made the porthole he looked out of, a thimble with a twisted wire for his drill and rubber bands holding it together at the body.

*Daddy? How many…?* he shook his head and stood up regaining his balance. Now his left hand glowed a faint blue light that was zipping around. Lightning. Aware he could restart that generator now, he turned to see the door was the short circuited after the monster took the child. Thankfully he had a way of restarting the power now. He raised his hand and flexed, just as his muscles moved a blue jolt shot out. Sparking the door to life and opening. Back to the pool and onwards.

As he head back to the generator he heard voices. Not a screech, nor a child. These were adults speaking nonsense about unity and selflessness. He peered around the corner to see two people. One man standing at the diving board and a woman near the generator. As he stepped out they heard his metal boots clank on the ground. The man turned to look at him. He raised his arm with a large pipe in hand and tan towards the metal Goliath. The crazed lunatic screamed and charged as did the woman. The man landed one blow before getting smacked back onto the ground by a swing of the drill, as the woman went for a hit but was only met with shock as the blue Electro Bolt rendered her motionless. With tense muscle spasms keeping her still, the drill roared as it spun up. Upon meeting the woman’s body the drill spun covering the floor, surrounding walls, and his armour in blood and viscera. The drill’s hum silenced and she fell torn and dismembered. Although gruesome, the scene wasn’t too out of place. Bodies were in other rooms anyways, he had to. They swung first.

He shook the excess blood off the drill and aimed his left hand at the power box of the generator. ZAP! And then music whirred up as lights flicked on. The shutters jolted, and slowly rolled up. Outside them a beautiful display of wildlife in the ocean with another large hulking metal man. The one outside being shorter in stature, but looked just as strong and armoured. The last door finally opened after it sparked, welcoming the metal beast inside.

“A signal! Finally!” The radio came to life. “You, Herr Delta, bringing this dead city to life, my name it is Tenenbaum. Come to the ticket booth in the Alantic Express Train Station. I will offer all I know about you” a German woman explained.

*Delta.* he thought. Finally he had learned something. With no other ways of getting out or learning where he is, Delta decided meeting this Tenenbaum woman was the best idea. He moved onwards, finding the odd recording Delta made sure to pick them up and listen. Maybe he could find something off these to help as well.

The Adonis Resort was large but thankfully most of the building had flooded and inaccessible due to being locked off by bulkhead door. It was easy to find a way through. Passing by the restrooms, Delta saw the little red light again. Grabbing the diary and pressing play he heard a woman with a British accent speaking to her unborn daughter.

Eleanor. That was the name that the little yellow eyed girl said. The woman speaking seemed passionate about helping others, yet was off putting. Unsure why, Delta continued. Around the way was a door being jammed by a rivet gun. Must’ve been dropped by this metal man. A dead body in a big diver suit sat parallel to the door. This suit looked very similar to Deltas own suit yet Delta’s seemed older and more worn. The door stopped clanging and opened up. Delta was only met with more hostility. As he dispensed the crazies in front of him with ease, he found some medical supplies and a glowing blue hypodermic needle. Grabbing both quickly Delta saw the side door with small amounts of steam passing through inviting him in. A yellow-beige suitcase was placed centre just past the entrance, an audio diary. As Delta listened he realized that his man came here on his own to find someone. The voice wasn’t familiar but his predicament was. Delta could relate to this Mark Meltzer as he was also looking for someone. Eleanor. She must know something. Delta turned around and back out towards the train station. More baddies delayed him as two crazies, unaware to Delta’s presence, fought back and fourth about looking for food and living in filth. Not wanting a fight Delta thought

*Can I sneak around?* surely not. His footsteps were far too loud, it was odd that they didn’t hear them approaching. Guessing their banter was too loud. Feeling a small zap and while rubbing his fingers together, it hit Delta. Zap ‘em. A small muscle flex cooked the two in the water, it looked as if they had a seizure before falling limp and lifeless in the water. Delta proceeded. The final door in his path took a moment to open, when the door rose it was pitch black inside. Taking a step in and turning on the light on his helmet Delta saw another little girl. She sat over top a corpse while sticking an oversized needle into it. Once the light flicked onto her she turned and smiled at Delta. Removing the needle and jumping towards him, signalling him to pick her up. Just as he started to lean down that damned screech rung in his ears.

“Daddy” the girl spoke softly “Big Sister doesn’t want me playing with you.” She sounded afraid with no time to grab the little girl, the Big Sister made her entrance. Jumping off the upper floor onto the Adonis sign, and right in Delta’s face. She literally had jumped onto him and stared into his helmet before jumping off and brandishing her weapon. She came to end whatever was going on with Delta. What a fool if she thought he’d go down without a fight.

As Delta drew his gun her hands lit ablaze and she threw fireballs at Delta. He quickly threw himself to the side making the fireballs hit the Adonis sign. He didn’t hesitate to fire back. Launching rivet after rivet towards her. She grunted in pain, but still ran towards him jumping onto walls like she was a spider. Delta only managed to land one Electro Bolt jolt on her. As she shook in pain for the blast and screamed again. Blurring Deltas vision by the sheer pitch. She ran off breaking down a blocked door to escape.

*Coward.* Delta sighed to himself.

The little girl was gone, he had missed where she ran to during the fight. He hoped she was safe and wasn’t harmed. With only one way to go Delta followed the Big Sister.

The only door available opened and led to a large open hall. Delta jumped down the main floor from the balcony, only managing to take a few steps before the screeching started again. That lanky bitch was back, she ran and jumped off the back wall being made entirely of glass. The large needle on her arm scratched the glass causing water to start spraying in the hall until the pressure got to be too much for the faulty glass. One large crack was heard before the whole panel shattered allowing the ocean to invade the space. Although Delta braced himself the waves force easily pushed him over. After shaking off the knock back Delta breathed heavily. His breathe echoing in his helmet.

“Even in this suit the ocean can not harm you. This is good. But Rapture is the death of many great men. Alone, you will not last long. You can still reach the train station. Find me there.” The transmission ended.

Although inside had been run down, the ocean was peaceful. Fish swam as if no city was there. Plants lit the dim ocean floor as Delta walked along the sea bed. A round sunken vessel grabbed his attention. Inside where two bodies, one had an audio recording. As the Delta played the tape and listened he heard this couples demise as they were shot down while trying to escape. * This Lamb woman I’ve being hearing about on the PA system has an issue with people leaving. Why?* Delta thought. He trekked through the ocean and saw another another metal man. This one was just as tall as Delta, with a rocket launcher on its shoulder. As Delta inspected him a small girl, just like the one he has seen being taken, appeared from his side. As they walked along a group of thugs came along. Clearly the girl was scared as she ran towards her saviour. Without a second thought he started firing the rockets towards these brutes. Their corpses fell as the rocket hit. The girl uncurled herself and hugged her protector before continuing on. Delta thought to continue as well, he still had Tenenbaum to meet. She had the answers, hopefully the right ones for him.

Travelling through the ocean floor Delta found himself and the top of broken balcony, Rapture lit the waters for as far as the eye could see. Delta jumped off, only to sink back to the floor. His suit was too heavy to let him swim, and he wasn’t about the drop his drill to see is that was enough to let him move more freely. He needed that drill, from crazed lunatics with pipes to weird metallic people it was clear Delta needed all the help he could get. He grunted as his feet hit the sandy bottom, he looked to his left and saw an airlock to the train station. Just as he moved towards it the lanky screecher swam out and up towards the top of building. Delta knew he couldn’t get her, nor would his drill do anything if he couldn’t get close. Irritated, Delta entered the airlock and cycled it to drain.

Finally at the train station after what felt like far too long for a supposed short distance. He looked to find the ticket booth. Tenenbaum said she was in there. Walking into the building he saw a man fumbling with the controls of a door. Just as Delta approached the door, it fell shut. Clearly the man had achieved what he had set out to do.

“Now most to survive are like this. Splicers. Vicious animals.” Tenenbaum informed Delta about the residents of Rapture. In a side room filled with electrical equipment Delta rummaged and found a hack device. Surely this was made by splicers to aid them in moving about Rapture since a lot was closed or locked off. Luckily there was a dart for the device there as well. Since Rapture was in ruin there was lots of parts broken and run down, most glass was cracked or broken. The only thing that separated the side room and the other side of the door was one flimsy, cracked piece of glass. Just enough room for Delta to aim and fire the dart. Using the keys on the device he was able to signal the door to open.

*Too easy. Gotta keep this one.* Delta cheered to himself. Putting the hack tool on his belt he grabbed the rivet gun off the side of his air tank. He didn’t know where these Splicers would appear, best to stay ready for a fight. Walking onwards he couldn’t help but notice all the graffiti. The walls were lined with white paint spelling things like “we will be reborn” and “she is watching”. Butterflies made out of handprints. As his heavy steps continued to the ticket booth he had to walk through one of the trains loading docks. Delta knew he was quite large in stature but he didn’t think that it would cause the train stationed above to fall from the loading line. Just as the dust settled from the collapse Delta heard splicers yelling. They dropped it. Probably hoping for it to crush Delta. With a few shots from his rivet gun and zap from his hand they fell. Heading around to the booth he was met with a red lit room filled with shut off tvs. It appears as if the buttons and switches in this room was to control the doors. Delta pulled the largest switch hoping it would unlock the door instead it shut off the lights. One by one the tvs flickered on. After they had switched on, a voice came over the PA system.

“I know you. That symbol on your hand marks you a dead man. 10 years Subject Delta, since I watched you put a gun to your head and pull the trigger.”

*I what?* Delta saw a quick flash before his eyes. All he remembers is green flashing, and…and HER! That voice! She told Delta to kill himself. Shot in the head with a golden pistol. He remembered now. Eleanor. He had to protect her, he couldn’t remember exactly but he felt an overwhelming sense of anger after hearing those words. Sofia continued “but to take heart out of your pain, Paradise was born. I don’t know how you survived but know that these men will ease your burden. Please understand that like all I’ve done, this is an act of love.” The tvs shut off as splicers are heard running towards the glass front of the room.

“It is Sofia Lamb! She has found you!” Tenenbaum worried.

Delta trapped in small room with no escape, tried his best to avoid splicer fire. Far too many bullets were being fired for Delta to not get shot. They threw in a molotov hoping to burn out the metal beast. Starting to feel the heat Delta panicked. He heard the floor crack. Once, then twice. Before the second crack even finished Delta fell through the floor. The burning debris followed as Delta as he slammed into a flooded level below. The water broke his fall and left Delta only a little worse for the wear.

“Now you know of the enemy we share. Sofia Lamb. The camera in your helmet allows me to watch through your eyes and help you fight her.” Whoever this Tenenbaum was she was resourceful.

Leaving the flooded basement Delta was met with a soft purple glow as candles where laid about the room with more graffiti. Up ahead he heard a small wurring noise. It was a security camera.

“Careful! Security cameras belong to Lamb. But if you’re clever you can find a way around them.”

A way around? The camera covered every angle of the room towards the door way on the other side. He was too big to try and hide behind desks and too slow to run past. While looking for a way to get around the camera he bumped into a desk, knocking the contents onto the floor. Upon the refuse was another hack dart. Two at that! Quickly grabbing one and his hack tool he aimed the camera. The dart connected and he started to dial up on the tool. With a couple of clicks the camera light changed to a light green. The camera whirred up lighting the splicers hiding inside. Now it wasn’t their friend anymore, the camera rang the alarms setting out security bots. They boys came filled armed with machine gun and riddled the splicers with bullets causing them to fall dead in their own blood. The ringing alarm ended and the boys returned to their hiding spots in the rooms security panels. Outside that office was the postal room, busted pipes caused mail to be littered across the room. In the dead centre was a red wagon with another red glowing bottle, some blue Eve hypos, and a jar of fireflies to light the area. As Delta approaches he suddenly got light headed as a voice entered his head.

“Father. It’s me, Eleanor. I know you’re awake in there. I can feel it. Mother won’t be able to…to you with you like that, ever again. This plasmid is for you…if I’m right, you can use it now! Please…find me…” he saw her bright blue eyes and jet black hair in his mind as she pleaded to be found.

After gathering himself he grabbed the bottle, and jabbed another needle into his arm. The pain this time wasn’t nearly as bad as the Electro Bolt was. Delta flexed his fingers as mail lifted in front of him, he drops the mail and tries to get the typewriter. Without another thought the typewriter flew towards him stopping a few inches in front of his hand, he aimed towards the back of the room and launched the typewriter with enough force to cause the machine to shatter, leaving a dent in the wall as well. Delta quickly left the mail room feeling empowered.

Up a flight stairs, the top covered in graffiti saying “she is watching”. Delta heard splicers talking about a man who left Rapture with a bunch of children. Some admired and some mocked him as they huddled around a burning trash bin. Fire. Easy disposal of these splicers, Delta waved his hand at an oxygen tank. Lifting it into the air before hurling it at the burning trash bin. The force combined with the heat cause the tank to blow up instantly, killing the splicers in a fiery ball. Delta hopped down, rumbling the ground beneath him.

*How much further?* Delta wondered. For a train station this place was huge. Felt like Delta had been walking for hours, although he did make frequent stops thanks to Sofia. Just as Delta went to pass to the other side of the station the door fell. Far too large and heavy for Delta to brute force through it, he also didn’t see any control panel for him to tinker with. Retracing his steps to find something to help with door he heard a woman giggling. He saw through a hole in the wall a splicer jam her weapon into the gears of the door. She ran off still giggling. Thinking they’d stopped Delta, he shook his head before using his plasmids to remove the pipe as if it never was there. They door moved back open and Delta hoped it wouldn’t be too much further to Tenenbaum. One last set of stairs. As he reached the apex a Big Sister jumped down, giving Delta a jump. She hastened off, up above the trains. A camera whirred and splicers called out as they ran to swarm Delta.

“Quickly! Head for the elevator!” Chimed Tenenbaum. Delta poked his head around to shoot his last hack dart at the camera. Missed. Delta shot the camera out then quickly put his rivet gun onto his back, pulling out his drill again. Heading towards the splicers, drill spinning up Delta didn’t hesitate to blast them with Electro Bolt before removed their innards with just a moment of the drill meeting their bodies. Pushing through the pain of splicers landing the shots and a couple of blows thuggish types, Delta entered the elevator quickly.

Blood dripped off the drill as the elevator doors slammed shut. More and more voices echoed, calling out for Delta’s head. As the elevator rose Tenenbaum chimed through the radio.

“Now this is what the children tell me. You are a very old Big Daddy, bonded for life to single little one. When you are apart for too long your body begins to break down-like a coma. The name of your little one is Eleanor Lamb. Daughter of Sofia. She is kept in Fontaine Futuristics un the other side of the city. You must go there und save her. Before it is too late” Tenenbaum lowered her voice as her sentence ended.

*Damn. That’ll complicate things* Delta thought

The splicers couldn’t get him up here anymore, he crushed the controls inside the elevator to keep in stationary. Finally getting to the ticket booth, Delta walked up and knocked on the metal shutter.

It slowly opened to see Tenenbaum and 5 young girls. They didn’t look like little sisters, their skin wasn’t pale-ish grey nor did their eyes glow. They looked like normal, healthy, little girls.

“You see? This is why I must find Sofia Lamb. She is using the new Little Ones for…for something…und I have returned to rescue them. If I do not, more children will die for MY sins —and the Rapture nightmare will repeat forever. Now we must tal-“ she was cut off from Sofia Lamb over the PA system. The screen behind Tenenbaum lit up with Sofia’s face followed by Delta’s image.

“Citizens of Rapture-” The announcement started “-this is Subject Delta. Behind that mask hides an enemy of the people-without soul or sympathy. It’s is a beast apart-and as a Family, we must tear out its jaw and drive it back into the sea!” The announcement ended with an alarm going off.

“Please hold off the splicers” Tenenbaum asked with desperation in her voice.

Delta readied himself and walked towards the train where splicers unloaded. Although in a large group, the splicers had sectioned themselves on either side of Delta into small groups of three each. Easy for Delta to plow through the first group with his drill. Until he heard a sputter and his drill gave out. No fuel left. Quickly throwing a barrel into the faces of splicers hastening towards him with his Telekinesis plasmid. Delta grabbed his rivet gun and blew them away as red hot rivets pierce their flesh. After the splicers and bullets fell silent and the radio sparked up again.

“Thank you und I am sorry for this but I must leave you. This man Sinclair is an ally! Und will guide you to Eleanor. Good bye Herr Delta und good luck.” From one speaker to another Sinclair pipped up!

“We’ll look at you…a bonafide knight in armour. Complete with iron horse. Ol’ Tenenbaum an’ I share an interest in the ol’ Fontaine building-the very same place you’ll find Eleanor Lamb. I think you and I can do business. Take the train to Ryan Amusements…I’ll see you shortly.” A smooth talkin’ business man with a Southerner accent was Augustus Sinclair. Although not sure of his motives, Tenenbaum helped Delta with no reason. She said he’ll help too, Delta trusted Tenenbaum’s decision and followed Sinclairs instructions. He moved onto the train and started the controls to take him out of this damned train station.

#bioshock 2 #happybanana2 #Bioshock novel #Bioshock 2 novel #fan writing #fandom #fanfic

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kabannoneko · 1 year

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Post-Return Stream Update

So yeah, we got to stream again yesterday, but there were a few complications. lol I know the term "complications" is a bit too much, but that's what they were, just not that big.

The TV was moved upstairs, so during our stream time, we couldn't do the thing upstairs (we're doing this in secret, our dad just thinks we play games with friends online) Because of that, we moved downstairs in the dining area, where it's unfortunately more public (if we talk loudly, neighbors could possibly hear us, the dog is closer and she barks a lot because of said neighbors, and there's the possibility our dad could walk in on us before ending stream).

In the end, yeah, we got to stream, but we got walked in on. And because of that, we had to mute and end stream.

I doubt our dad would want to move back downstairs, since he doesn't really like how our neighbors (particularly his sister and her husband) talk behind our backs. I wouldn't want us to stay downstairs either, since there's no privacy.

So how to solve it? Would we have to stop streaming/making videos?

And then an idea hit us. Why not use the study desks in our former bedroom?

And so, we fixed it up today with our dad's help, and we're pretty happy about it! We get our privacy, and our dad doesn't have to move the TV back downstairs and watch there.

=====

Okay, now to the main part.

We decided that we'll be changing things for this new year, since we've started thinking more about what we really want to create. And so, we'll be making the following shifts:

We're not gonna do writing streams anymore. It doesn't mean that we won't be writing anymore, it's just that we found that we really are uncomfortable writing in public view, so it would make sense to not do it anymore. We will talk about it sometimes, but we'll keep the act private from now on. And following that, we're dropping the writer tag on Twitch.

We're gonna focus more on the art and learning types of streams instead, and only really do one day of games per week. We're not really a gamer, and we mostly do that for fun. We don't wanna degrade it to just "content", because then it will just feel like work. To make up for the incomplete games though, we're just gonna record instead of stream so we can somewhat showcase them fully without worry of having to progress quickly.

Regarding games... We will be focusing more on the more indie/obscure/old types of games and not so much on the newer stuff unless we really like them. (Like Genshin, but that's something we don't want to stream/record anymore since we're a lazy player lol)

Regarding art/learning streams... Some ideas of ours are: doing stream assets, making doodles, maybe making comics, book reading/book reacts (basically reading with commentary as opposed to just reading or just commentary), video watchalongs/reacts, and study streams (which is kind of apt since we do have a chalkboard theme generally, and we can insert our study for this March's CSE)

We've also been thinking of doing only two streams per week... but that's still up in the air. Right now, we're sticking to three, since we still have the time.

This is not just because we have a clearer idea of what we want to make, but also because we want to improve our YouTube channel as well. So far, we've been posting VODs, but that's not really interesting for us, and it doesn't really reflect what we can really do.

ALSO, we've pretty much dropping marketing ourselves as a vtuber (if ever we really did lol), since we figured, we're not really a vtuber in the sense that we fit with the culture of it. We will, however, still keep the pngtuber tags and stuff since we do still use an avatar.

Then again, we have described ourselves as "dabbling in vtubing" so I guess that was a sign lol. - Kochan

#streaming #streaming updates #content changes #kochan

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seokiloquy · 2 years

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Mismatched - Kyoutani Kentarou

Au: Regular

Requested

Tags/Warnings: GN!Reader, Idiots that aren’t into dating are forced to go on dates, Platonic relationship, dialogue-heavy, Swearing, and strangers being weird.

Word Count: 11k+

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting when you walked into the club room that evening. Maybe a quiet environment with the winter sun shining through the window with a golden light. Or perhaps, your co-writers and designers passionately discussing what should be done for this month's journal. What you did find yourself walking into, though, should’ve been what you were expecting as it was the same every week.

The club leader, Fuji, who also was in charge of page layout and organising printing, was writing on the chalkboard at the front of the classroom while other students were spread around the room. The first years sat in a circle playing a card game and screeching at each other as one person stole away the lead from another. Toward the window, you saw your writing teammate as he scribbled down notes in a small book.

“Hi Takahashi,” you said, sliding into a chair in his vicinity.

Looking up, he gave you a round, cheeky smile and nod, before writing again.

“Alright!” Fuji dropped the piece on chalk, making it break in two when it hit the metal ledge at the bottom of the board. “The 3rd-years on student council have enlisted our help for a project as we graduate. As Valentine’s day and White day occur just before exam period, they want this project to be thoroughly planned out before school ends so that there’s no interference when they examine the results and pass down the mantle to the second years.”

The romance month. You were familiar with the concept although never really participated in it yourself. Valentine’s day was traditionally the day that, usually, girls would confess to their male counterparts, followed by a month of courting before it was the boys turn to confess to their female counterparts, whether they were different or the same. You tried not to yawn. It was a relatively straightforward concept, even now the specifics of the rules became muddled. One person confesses on February 14, and then the other responds on March 14. Simple. So what were these scheming 3rd-years planning?

Fuji continued, “While the student council, specifically the event’s committee branch, will be handling all the technical portions, they have asked us to write up an article and run reminders about the event occurring. Kaito, Rin, that will be your job.”

Kaito slumped, rolling backwards and away from his circle of friends and the wide-eyed girl next to him cheered, throwing her cards in the air, and subsequently forfeiting the game. A card landed on Kaito’s nose.

Your brow pinched, and you raised a hand. “Fuji, if this is purely a social event thing, what do the rest of us have to do with it?”

“Test subjects,” she said as if it was obvious.

“Oh?”

Takashi picked his head up from next to you and shoved an elbow into your side. “Looks like you get to live your guinea pig dreams.”

You smacked him.

“The student council is already underway working on preparations. So Kaito, Rin, by the next meeting we will need your first draft of your posters and article. By then we will have the likely finished copy of the questionnaire and final drafts can be written up. The rest of us will be looking at and filling out the questionnaire to see if students will answer the questions in a manageable way.”

The club seemed to collectively sit straighter, words falling out of their mouths in a rumbling chorus.

“So they’re doing a matching service?! So cute!”

“Do we have to participate? What if we already have a crush?”

“What if someone’s incompatible?”

“Sign me up. I want my stupid romance story!”

You perked up. “Questionnaire?”

“Called it.” You smacked Takahashi again.

Eventually, the club began getting too loud, making Fuji screech for quiet.

You winced, “tone down the cussing, would you Fuji?”

“Sorry.” She nodded in your direction. “But yes, that is the plan for next meeting. So get all your articles finished before then so that we can have a bit of fun with that. Now,” she smacked her clipboard onto the podium at the front, making your ears hurt again from the sharp noise, “bring up your edits, we are compiling.”

“So what exactly are we supposed to answer for this?”

The sheet in front of you was primarily made up of multiple-choice, true and false, and a couple of short answer questions.

You had easily made your way through the first part of the questionnaire, marking things that described your physical appearance as well and general likes and dislikes. Just like you practised with all those online personality quizzes that allowed you to just talk about yourself and give you a silly result in return.

Momo sighed next to you, “Just fill in whatever comes to mind first. That will be what you’re most interested in. Like look here,” she shows you her sheet, which she scribbled with plenty of pink ink and doodled hearts, “they want to know what sort of body type I’m attracted to, so I checked off ‘soft, round, and homebody’ see? Easy.”

You blinked. That made no sense. You looked back at your sheet, focused on the next question.

Favourite body type?

Well? Uh. Skip.

What is your favourite activity to do with someone else?

What the hell were these suggestions? Hold hands? Kiss? Hug? These aren’t activities, they’re just actions. You huffed, leaving the response blank. Skip.

Choose one:

Movies/TV or Sports or Video Games

Easy. You smiled and circled sports. What a sham you would be to not enjoy sports when you were writing articles about it. You looked over to Takahashi’s paper, and then the rest of your club mates. If you were to even breathe too loud, you were sure it would break their focus. From the looks of it, they had all flipped to the back of the page, leaving you stuck as the last person on the front. You huffed, glaring at the paper.

Being last wasn’t an option. Not in your wheelhouse. Next question.

What is your favourite physical feature of another person?

Seriously? Skimming the responses, you circled hair and eyes. Your favourite volleyball player had a mohawk with dyed ends.

What is your favourite personality feature of another person?

They should get Fuji to edit this. You marked off passion and drive.

What is your best quality?

Uh. Nudging Takahashi, you showed him the paper, pointing to the particular question. He gave you a raised brow and marked off patience, loyalty, understanding, joyful, and mischievous. That’s a lot.

You gave him a quirked brow, to which he shrugged as if to say ‘you’re asked me’.

Theme park, or Movies, or Dinner?

Theme park!

Describe your favourite date:

You paused, pen hovering over the black horizontal lines. Describe it? Uh. Okay.

July 28th. It’s the middle of summer break, no school and I can travel to see volleyball games.

You nodded to yourself. Grin creeping up your cheeks. There was no other possible answer to that.

What is your favourite snack?

Sugar Candy.

When you looked up, people were still scribbling in their answers to what looked like the date question. You grinned, you finished first. Pumping your fist, you refused to look down at some of your empty responses.

Fuji groaned. “I’m going to need to suggest some rewording for a few of these. How did you all find it?”

You groaned a bit, pulling out your laptop from your school bag. “It took a bit longer than I expected, and a few were a bit hard to answer, but not bad I guess.” You placed your sheet down in the centre of the table. You read through Takahashi’s last articles of the school year, checking for even the most minute edits that had to be made.

“You’re just sad that there isn’t an immediate result,” Momo laughed.

Rin perked up. “Don’t worry, results will come on Valentine’s day!”

You hummed.

“Okay, everyone!” The group of nine looked back Fuji’s way. “Time to forget these quizzes and do your final edits and page layout! Rin, you wrote the draft, right? Have Kaito read it over. I'm going to go talk to the student council!”

The teams split up. Kaito and Rin ran into the corner of the room. Momo and Itsuki followed behind, having already finished their work for the Clubs article. Though you were sure Momo would drift away from that over the rest of the meeting and work on layout and print in Fuji’s steed. Hira, Tomoe, and Akira scurried to their opposing corner, working on the exam layout for their respective years. Which left Takahashi and you to slowly look over each other’s sports articles.

“You misspelt ‘triumphant’ here.”

“Fuck you.”

He scoffed.

“I’ve edited yours. I’m gonna work on my essay.”

“Didn’t you finish that last week?” Takahashi tilted his head at you, halting his typing. “You found spelling mistakes didn’t you?”

“Shut up.”

On February 5th, a letter was waiting for you at your desk. Your brows pinched and you stopped walking. A letter? You looked around. Nearly all of the other desks had letters on them too.

They couldn’t be exam results. Those were posted publicly in Aoba Johsai’s main hall by the principal’s office (you swore, every time they were posted you could see him snicker as students fell to their knees in despair). Besides, they haven’t even been written yet. Won’t happen for another month and a half. You watched as one of your classmates eagerly tore open her letter with her friend, both giggling as they discarded the red heart sticker on the envelope.

Red hearts? Shit.

Rushing to your desk, you snagged the flimsy paper off the desk, not even waiting to sit down as you tore it open.

Your name was printed in neat cursive, followed by printed text.

Thank you for participating in our very first Romance Match Up for Romance month from Valentine’s day to White day!

What?

After filling in the first draft during club time you concluded that you had your fun with this little event. After which, you successfully avoided taking even a single copy of the final questionnaire that everyone else had been scrambling for at the beginning of the lunch period when it was released.

How did they even? You paused, fingers wrinkling the edge of the letter. “Fuji.”

Footsteps came in behind you. One pair was faster than the other. Momo rushed excitedly to your side. “OH! A Match! Yay yay yay yay! You got a match! So you did participate! Are you excited to find somebody? Huh, are ya? Come on, let's see who it is!”

Takahashi reeled her back, making her crash into his stomach with a thud. “Enough. Let’s sit first.”

Their tables had letters of their own. But as they sat, they ignored the papers, waiting for you to read through yours first.

You sighed and read the paper:

“Hello, and congratulations on receiving your match for the romance season! We, the student council, hope that you get to enjoy the next four weeks with your assigned partner and that results are to your benefit. That being said, we have compiled a list of requirements for you to follow so that this experiment will be a success.

For this event, you have been assigned the position of the ‘Confesor’ for Valentine’s day, meaning that on the 14th of February, you will be gifting your match their desired treat. Following that, we require that you both go on at least four dates over the next month. We have taken the liberty of giving you a coupon that should be used for your first date, to ease the worry of planning. At the end of these 4 weeks, another letter will be sent out as an exit questionnaire to determine the success of this event.

Basic information on your match is included on the additional slip in the envelope, as well as your coupons.

Thank you for your participation, and remember, Choose Love.”

You sucked in a breath before dropping the sheet on your desk. Takahashi and Momo opened their letters. Momo’s was the same as yours, while Takahashi’s set him in the position of the ‘Confessed’ and without an extra slip, meaning that he would find out his match in about a week's time.

“How fun!” Momo had already pulled out her slip, giving it a quick glance before tucking it in her pocket before you could catch a look. “All right, tell us who your lover is!”

“Lover? Don’t say it like that!”

Takahashi smirked, “Come on, it can’t be that bad. Just read it out!”

“Momo didn’t show us hers!”

“It’s a secret!”

“Ugh!” You pulled out the paper, glancing over to the rest of your classmates as they all started tearing their envelopes excitedly. No one, but Takahashi and Momo, was paying you any mind. A sigh fell out of you.

“Kyoutani Kentarou.”

Takahashi choked, hand going to his chest, while Momo rubbed his back and pinched one of his cheeks. “Nevermind it can be that bad.”

“Bad?! What do you mean?!”

Momo’s head tilted, “Whos Kyoutari?”

Takahashi opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a loud squeal in the classroom. You pinched your nose and groaned.

“Kyountani,” he corrected. “Better known as Mad-Dog.”

“Him?!” Momo cried, standing in her chair. You swatted at her like an annoyed cat.

“Who’s Mad-Dog?”

“You watch sports for fun and reporting and you don’t know who he is?”

“Well, sorry, that I have a duty to report on the girl’s teams, It’s not my job to keep track of everyone you wrote about! I bet you don’t know who Point is.” You slumped in your chair.

“Who?”

“Exactly. She’s the best player on the basketball team. Now tell me what’s up with Kyoutani!”

Momo sighed. “Mad-Dog is one of the most aggressive and scary people in the school. He’s on the volleyball team.”

“He’s known for pushing people around and being aggressive about the game. He’ll shove teammates around just to get a spike, even if he misses. He’s not very smart. I can’t even imagine why he would sign up for this thing. He doesn’t seem like the type.”

“I’m not the type either,” you scoffed.

Takahashi shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “That’s not it. You’re at least likeable. Mad-Dog is, well, I don’t even know if he has any friends besides the players he just puts up with. He was suspended from playing because of his attitude. He’s pretty intense.”

Marking the word ‘passionate’ on the questionnaire jumped into your mind. Maybe you should have filled in more, fluke traits.

“Well, great, I now have to figure out this whole dating thing for a guy I don’t even know and probably will try to bite my head off!”

Momo whined. “He’s really scary. Maybe you should just not go. I’m sure he wouldn’t care too much!”

A coward's choice. You huffed through your nose as your leg shook and you bit your lip.

Takahashi has been reporting on the boy’s side of school sports for two years now. Volleyball, something you both passionately enjoyed, was something you could happily converse over. If anyone in the school knew all these athletes intimately, even from an outside perspective, he would. Interviews and watching games, he has built his knowledge on these teams. If he said a player was trouble, they were.

Even so, you didn’t know what was going on, on Kyoutani’s side of the equation. Not that you could do math very well anyways, but if there was even a chance that the scary second-year was excited about this matchmaking, who were you to back out and possibly make his attitude worse. Even if your participation was unintentional, there was no backing out now. You weren’t going to play the coward, and from what you’ve heard, Kyoutani wouldn’t either.

“No, I can’t do that.”

Class started with you watching Momo and Takahashi sneek worried glances toward each other.

Aoba Johsai’s culinary room was packed with students as they prepared the treats for their Valentine’s. Generally, the classroom was filled with laughter and sugary smells as the students took advantage of their club time that they might not have been able to take advantage of at home. It was cute, sweet, and overflowing with excitement.

Every one of them avoided entering your corner of the room.

“Why the fuck did he list fired chicken as his favourite snack?!” Your corner was greasy, boiling, and most of all sweaty. No one, who wanted to keep their precious candy safe, would interfere. “Why couldn’t he have said hard candy? It’s just melted sugar! Maybe a bit of flavouring and food colouring! But no! I have to slave over a fryer so he can get his precious chicken.”

Momo, held out your basket with wax paper, ready to receive the freshly made fried chicken. “You don’t even know him and you’ve cooked him a whole meal? You could have waited for, like, the third date for this really.”

“What else was I supposed to do?!” You dropped the chicken and grabbed the woven cover to keep them warm. You grumbled and gently took hold of the basket. “The things I’m doing for this man. You should have seen my parents' faces when I left the house with a whole chicken.”

Takashi tossed out the bones before following you out of the home-ec room. You could hear a collective sigh of relief as you left. Your clubmates rubbed your back, urging you to breathe slowly as you walked down the hall.

“You’re on edge. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Momo’s voice picked up happily.

When the three of you made your way out of the school’s main building, you shivered. Snow had started to fall at lunchtime, and it wasn’t letting up, catching on your clothes. You all rushed back inside to throw on your coats before starting your trek to the boy’s gym again.

It was a pair of wide brown eyes that greeted you at the gym door. A recognisable face, one that took up a majority of the volleyball’s article space.

Takahashi sighed. “Oikawa, Is Kyoutani here?”

“Mad-Dog?” It seemed like the tall boy was about to start singing. “He sure is! Hey, Mad-Dog! Looks like someone is here to see you!”

When members of the team began to snicker, you wanted to shrink in on yourself. Heat pooled in your cheeks before dropping into your stomach and kicking around with your stomach like a soccer ball. You could feel your acid reflux kick up.

Hopelessly, you watched as the group of boys pushed a furious looking member in your direction. You cast a glance to your friends, who had backed off a few metres, nearing the corner of the building, almost hiding behind it. This was humiliating. You stared at your feet, only looking up when a scuffed pair of volleyball shoes entered your line of vision.

God, he was kind of scary, wasn’t he?

You remembered what you had marked off on our questionnaire. His hair was bleached blond, definitely against dress code, with two natural stripes that wrapped around his head. Even more against the dress code. You couldn’t help but wonder why teachers hadn’t spoken to him about it. His eyes though, looking past the glare he had, were a honey gold, soft looking.

A cold breath of winter air filled your lungs. You could do this.

“You said you liked Hamima Chicken, but I had to make something, not buy it, so here. Fried chicken. I hope you like it.” You held the carefully packaged gift to him.

He glared at him, huffing through his nose.

“Um, It’s freshly made, you might want to eat it before it gets cold.”

You hear the volleyball team snicker, making you glance over. Kyountani tenses in front of you, swiftly turning his head to look over his shoulder. Whatever look he gave them was enough to have them hurrying back a few steps. You tried not to laugh at their expense.

A spiky-haired member started shoving them back into practice.

When Kyoutani looked back your way, you lifted the fried chicken back up. His eyes flicked between your face and the food.

He took hold of the sides of the basket and pulled it into his stomach. “Hmm.” He still looked like he was glaring.

“Um, so. We have to go on four dates.” He nodded along, as you pulled out your phone from your pocket. “How about we exchange numbers and I’ll make the plan for the first one.”

He continued to glare but turned his attention to the small device in your hand. You gulped as he took it, and punched his thumbs into the keypad.

He handed it back and you nodded in the windy silence. It was hard not to shiver a bit.

“Okay then. I’ll send you the info.”

With a final nod, he stepped back into the gym, door slamming behind him. You could hear howling laughter through it. How embarrassing.

Takahashi and Momo ran up to you from their hiding spots, hands landing on your shoulders.

“You did great!”

“Sure but what the hell do I have to do for this date? What do people do on dates?!”

They started escorting you back towards the main building, aiming for the lockers where you could get organised before heading home where your parents would definitely be waiting for answers. Hopefully, they were stuck at work like normal.

Takahashi hummed. “Didn’t your letter come with a coupon for something?”

You snapped your fingers and rummaged through your backpack. Pulling out the somewhat tattered envelope, you tucked your fingers in and pulled out the two coupons.

“Theme park. Eligible for this Saturday.”

Momo clapped and pushed the school door open. “There you go! Now you have a plan!”

Once you stepped through the doors you froze, a cold shiver running over your head despite the warm interior. You cried, “There’s a Sendai Frogs game that day!”

This sucks.

“Chilly, chilly, chilly.”

Oh, how you despised the cold. Even if the falling snow was pretty, and winter came with hot chocolate, you shivered at the mere thought of needlessly standing outside to freeze. Yet here you were, standing straight as a board, in a line for a ride with a near-stranger at your side as snow fell clammy before melting as soon as it landed on any surface that wasn’t a pile of snow.

To top it all off. The coupon that the student council had so lovingly given out for this date, wasn’t for a scream filled, stomach-churning, terror-inducing, roller-coaster filled park like you were expecting. While that might have seemed to be a bad option in the colder weather, you liked to think the adrenaline would counteract that.

You stared up at the pink and red, bubble lettered sign that decorated the front entrance of the ride ahead of you. At any of them, park, it wouldn’t have been your first choice, likely not on the list at all. But to your displeasure, it was the only ride in the vicinity that had offered some sort of excitement, by parading its riders through a dark tunnel.

The general concept sounded aerie, and the fact that the ride was the only one that took place in an enclosed environment, you were a bit hopeful. You would be excited for scares if it weren’t for the previously mentioned sign that bore the name of the ride.

‘Tunnel of Love’

How humiliating.

You grimaced and turned your head to glance at the bitter looking boy next to you. Words to fill the silence were about to fall, probably stupidly, out of your mouth when a shove in your opposing shoulder shut you up and knocked you into Kyoutani’s side. He caught you with an arm around your shoulders.

He glared at the couple that had shoved their way in front of you, into the first spot in line. Wordlessly, he let out a huff, making puffy clouds escape his nose.

Grabbing hold of your arm through your coat, he shoved his shoulder into the spine of the guy in front of him, effectively ending the couples mid-day makeout session. When the stranger turned around, mouth open to berate Kyoutani, the teen sneered.

“Fuck off and get behind us.”

Kyoutani hiked up his free elbow, cutting through the couple and pulling you alongside him. Once back into your original spot you tried to pay the annoyed pair behind you no mind. It was rather easy once you noticed Kyountani’s arm that was still stiffly wrapped around your shoulders gripping nervously at the air just next to your arm.

Returning to your board-like state you glanced sideways to get a look of the boy’s face.

The skin between his brows was pushed outwards, creating thick creases by his brow. Same for his nose, which had deep inset lines branching up to the inner corner of his glaring eyes, and sides of his mouth. His mouth, which was sewn shut, bottom lip being pushed up as high as seemingly possible. He was grimacing more than before. Looking back to his hand on your opposite shoulder, you could see the tendons pop as he tried to keep it as still as possible as if trying to hide it being there.

Did he want it to be there? You weren’t sure. His scowl could be of nerves or discomfort, maybe both. But while you couldn’t read his emotions through that grimace, you knew your own, at least partially, and it felt awkward and uncomfortable. You just hoped he wouldn’t try to bite your head off, the couple behind you definitely wouldn’t do anything to help.

Taking a gulp of cold air, you reached for his wrist and ducked under his arm. Guiding his hand to tuck back into his coat pocket, you looped your elbow around his arm, before tucking away your own hands into the safe confines of your pockets.

You tried not to make a face when he turned his head to look at you.

“Next in line!”

You pulled him by your linked arms and got into the ride, quickly setting off into the dark tunnel.

As expected, it was dark. Too dark for any kind of ride. What was the point of this? Your only saving grace was that the cold wind couldn’t reach you in there, making you feel considerably warmer. Well, that plus the furnace of a boy next to you.

“It’s a lot warmer here at least, huh?”

Kyoutani scoffed, “Ya, you’ve been whining all day.”

“Hey! At least I’ve been trying to talk!”

“Wimp.”

Silence permeated between the two of you. You glanced over your shoulder to see if there was any light coming from where you entered. Nothing.

“So, you’re on the volleyball team.”

“Hmm.”

You couldn’t see any of his reactions. He was probably still glaring.

“What position do you play?”

“Opposite hitter.”

You stuck your fingers between your knees, trying to warm them up.

“Ah, so you must like doing a lot of spiking.” You recalled your conversation with Takahashi and Momo. “Finishing moves are always the most fun.”

“Ya.”

Well, at least he was saying something.

“Maybe I should watch more of your games. I’m normally parading around with the girl’s teams, so I don’t often have the opportunity.”

“Hmm?” Participation! You perked up in your seat a bit.

“I’m a part of the journalism club as the girl’s sports reporter. I go to all the games and some practices.”

“Their team isn’t as good as ours.”

A grin fell onto your cheeks, and before you could stop it, you let out a chuff at the challenge.

“I suppose not, but your team also has its faults from what I’ve heard. The best team in the school is currently the girl’s basketball team.”

You heard him huff as a gentle gust of hot air hit your cheeks. You couldn’t see it, but he was finally facing you head-on. Progress? You hoped you weren’t hitting the wrong buttons.

He didn’t say anything for a bit, but he didn’t turn away or shuffle. “So, journalism club. Did you have anything to do with this?” He sounded annoyed, but not much more than usual.

“Ah, no. I didn’t even mean to participate myself—”

A loud, breathy sigh echoed through the tunnel behind you. You froze, jaw dropping. The couple that had tried to cut in line.

You gulped. “Oh my god, that is horrifying.” You heard Kyoutani’s tongue click and his clothes rustle. “I very much regret dragging us in here now.”

Kyoutani’s hand landed roughly on your shoulder. He had stood in his seat and gotten to his knees, gripping onto you for balance in the dark.

You grabbed his wrist, “Careful!”

“OI, FUCKERS, YOU’RE NOT ALONE IN HERE!”

Laughter ripped through your stomach, echoing off the walls of the tunnel and shooting through your ear like a bullet. Once the acoustics stopped, you could hear hurried scrambling as the two behind you moved around frantically. Which sent you into another fit of laughter, dripping Kyoutani’s wrist like a vice.

“DISGUSTING!”

You choked on your breath, feeling tears slowly trail down your cheeks as they tried to find a place to freeze.

The ride ended soon after, and you were greeted with one of the workers, disturbed faces. You left, walking back into the cold.

“That was terrible!”

“Fuckers can’t keep their pants on for one minute.”

“I never want to experience that again.”

“Me neither.”

“The worker looked terrified! Do you think they have night vision cameras for safety?”

You watched a smirk on his face contently. “I sort of hope they do.” His stomach growled.

“Let’s get some food.”

You both stood awkwardly for a moment, watching the extraordinary amount of couples that walked tightly knit together around you. Kyoutani met your eyes for a moment before pushing out his elbow, hand still tucked away in his pocket. Your arm was looped through his again as you walked through the theme. For a while, you had forgotten exactly where you were.

Oh god, everything really was made for couples.

After a bit of wandering, you both found your way to the only not jam-packed cafe in the theme park. Sadly though, no matter where you turned, you were met with just as, if not more, PDA positive couples as the one you encountered at the love tunnel.

“This place is an eye sore,” Kyoutani mumbled while reading the menu.

A couple, only a seat over, were tucked into the corner, hands never leaving their partners skin as they kissed heavily against the wall.

You both cringed. “Let’s just get a drink and get out of this place.”

To your despair, your hot drinks did little to fight against the cold, which had only seemed to drop in temperature since you got to the cafe. You both stood stiffly in the middle of the theme park, sipping on your drinks through straws and staring at the concrete ground, away from all the lovey-dovey couples.

“So this has been terrible,” you sighed.

“It’s still 3pm.”

“Yup.”

For the love of— what the hell do people do on dates? Think, Think. The quiz had mentioned dinner and movies? Were there any noteworthy movies released recently that weren’t RomComs? All that the damn letter gave you was coupons, and for all you could care, the saved money didn’t make up for the awful location.There were still some rides that you could do, but they were slow with long lines, and staying in the cold felt like it would only worsen the mood. And you were certain that seeing another handsy couple would make you both uncomfortable. The parks games would likely suck up the rest of your money too. Even if Kyoutani was a skilled athlete, rigged games weren’t worth it. Neither of you were really dressed to be outside too long either. Finding a gym could possibly work, but they’d all likely be booked for practices. Wait!

“I have season tickets to Sendai Frogs? They’re division two but still really good and—”

“Let’s go.” Kyoutani’s back seemed to have straightened, shoulders rising slowly as he sucked in some air. He loops his arm through yours, pulling you toward the theme park’s exit.

“The game isn’t for another 3 hours!”

“We’ll get food first.”

With it being the ‘most romantic day of the year’, people were crowding the trains and streets as they went on the merry way to their dates. It was overwhelming. You and Kyoutani had to push your way through giant bouquets of roses and massive chocolate hearts as you travelled the relatively short distance to the stadium. It was annoying, not being able to see over mountains of roses and hearts. While you were fine with just dealing with the hindrances, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh when Kyoutani decided to curse them out for being in your way. You were sure to give the people quiet apologies though.

You had made it to a small family owned restaurant up the street from the stadium, stuffing your faces with all the food that you had missed throughout the day.

“Let me pay for my food.” Kyoutani was rising out of his seat to go pay at the cash register when you grabbed the hem of his shirt to pull him back.

“I’m not broke you wimp. You’re already paying for the tickets.”

You didn’t want to correct him by saying it was your parent’s money paying for the tickets. Then again, paying for the meal would be your parent’s money as well. You let go of his shirt. “Fine, but hurry or we’ll miss the pre-game stuff.”

“You think I’m slow?” He growled, turning around to face you.

“No, but you will be if you keep standing there. Just go pay quickly.” Shooing him off to the counter, you wrapped yourself up in your coat and grabbed his off the backrest. Holding it open for a quick slide on when he returned.

His “thanks” came out in a small grumble before he linked your arms again and set off toward the stadium.

You were happily jumping with each step as you approached the building and your seats inside. Games were always a highlight of and sort of week. Home or away. It was always great to see your city’s team play. Nothing made you feel better.

A familiar figure with rounded and hunched shoulders, a protruding stomach and a large cup with piss coloured liquid stood in the seat next to yours. “Oh, great.”

He must’ve heard you, as his head turned to look at you as you descended the steps to your seats. Kyoutani was just a step behind you when you slid into the row.

“Hey, Kid!” The man’s hefty arm slung itself around your shoulder, bringing you into a tight side-hug that nearly made his drink spill onto your coat.

“Hi, already drinking?” You put a kind smile on your face as you looked at the soft plastic container filled with beer.

“Fourth one! Gotta start strong!” He shouted it out proudly, as if he wasn’t going to be asleep in his seat by the end of the game from all the alcohol.

“Congratulations.”

When the man’s arm dropped, he turned to face his buddies for a moment that were on the other side of him. A tug on your elbow had you switching places, putting you farther away from the noise and drinks. Kyoutani let you go, back facing the strange man as he pulled off his coat. You looked at him with wide eyes, silent as you quickly got rid of your jacket and placed it on the seat behind you.

The man turned back, beer-soaked mouth open as he was about to speak before pausing, shutting his jaw, and then promptly speaking again. He leans around Kyoutani to see him. “Ah! Who’s this guy? I don’t know your face.”

Kyoutani’s face began tight as he gave the man a side glare.

“He’s a,” you gulped, “friend from school.”

The man grinned, showing off his crooked teeth. “Ah! Nice to meet ya, Bud!” He raised an arm swinging it toward the striped blond’s shoulders until Kyoutani took a step closer to you and out of reach from the drunken grasp. Grabbing the man’s wrist, Kyoutani lowers it with a glare. “Ah, not a hugger, that’s fine. You better cheer loud though.”

You both were finally taken out of the guy’s immediate thought at the pre-game starting, pulling his attention away like a moth to a flame.

Kyou leaned toward you, lowering his volume to be underneath the announcer’s. “Who’s the jackass?” The anthem began to play.

You huffed through your nose and whispered, “Honestly, I don’t know his name. I just call him Drunk Guy. He’s got season tickets as well. He’s not terrible, he’s just really—”

As if someone watching over you had a specific taste in comedic timing, the anthem finished and the subject of your conversation let out a horrendous scream, then a sharp whistle that stabbed your ears as the players took their positions. He follows the volume match with a slurry of rambling cussing directed at the opposing team, challenging and coercing them into an aggravated state, while he shook his beer wildly in the air. Whether or not he succeeded in making your opponents annoyed, you didn’t know, but he definitely made you hate him.

“Loud,” you finished.

Kyoutani huffed, glaring over his shoulder at the man until the game started and everyone settled into their seats.

The drunk man’s sneers and swears quickly faded into the crowd’s cheers as the game continued. Letting you enjoy the game fully without any distractions, except for a minor few

Whenever Sendai scored a point, and the onlookers jumped to their feet to cheer, Kyoutani’s hand found your shoulder and squeezed in for dear life before pulling away like it burned his palm. Looking over, you’d see a familiar scowl with his eyes glued on the game before you. He was rather quiet the whole game, only letting out small huffs of excitement every now and then as he grabbed your shoulder and clenched his other hand into a fist. Quiet until Drunk Guy decided to heckle one of the injured opponents as he walked off the court with a bloody nose. Kyoutani snapped at him, yelling louder than anyone in the crowd. You tried not to laugh as the man backed off like a whimpering puppy.

The game ends with Sendai Frogs’ win, tightly making it over the two point difference with 29 in the 5th set.

You pulled Kyoutani out of the stadium by your linked arms. It had happened unconsciously. After silently finding an agreeable way to hold on to each other as you walked, it seemed like your arms looped together like magnets once needed.

The winter wind was much stronger than when you had arrived, making your teeth clatter as you walked home.

“I have more tickets if you want to come again. My parents usually end up missing games because of work.”

Kyoutani let the wind fill in the silence for a moment. “When’s the next one?”

“Next week. It’s an earlier game though. We could count it as one of our four dates,” you said, absentmindedly, suddenly remembering the context of the whole situation.

When you looked his way though, Kyoutani’s face was screwed in a way that made it seem as though he had just eaten something incredibly foul.

You backtracked, “O-or not. We don’t need to hang out at all if you’d prefer, it’s not a big deal.” You were used to attending the games on your own regularly anyways.

Kyoutani huffed, eyes straying to the side where a dog park was. “I just don’t like the date thing.”

You stopped in your tracks, pulling Kyoutani along with you. “Is that all?” His mouth opened for a moment before getting distracted by a large, puffball of a canine that made its way over and pressed its nose against the separating fence. Kyoutani poked it, making the dog dark happily before running back to its owner.

Your laugh brought his attention back your way. “Seriously, Kyoutani. If it’s the idea of it being a ‘date’ that bothers you, then let’s just think of it as us hanging out instead. There’s no expectations with that, right?”

For once, the boy’s expression seemed a bit more neutral, unblinking as his eyes jittered between looking at the both of yours. His shoulders dropped, you hadn’t noticed how tense he was until that point.

You hummed, “Sound good?”

Rin’s hands were held together, pressing into her chest as she sighed dreamily toward the clubroom ceiling as if Aphrodite herself was descending from it. “We went to see a rom-com! He held my hand and hugged me throughout it. He’s so warm. He even wiped off a crumb from my cheek and kissed it and—AH! I feel hot just thinking about it! Am I blushing? My face must be so red!”

You blinked at the younger girl. Held hands? Through the whole movie? That must have been really sweaty. And kissing on the first date? What? Noticing that it was wide open, you shut your jaw.

Momo laughed, “You look like a strawberry, Rin. Takahashi and I went to a fancy restaurant. We held hands and drank water like it was fancy wine. Almost convinced him to propose right there!” She elbowed the boy that sat between you with a cheeky grin, making him shove her back. “We’re going ice skating next. You’ll carry me so I won’t fall right?”

“Sure.”

They all seemed to melt into the floor as they spoke about their dates. Like somehow their body temperature was high enough to render their muscles useless, letting them sink into the floor or chairs like puddles of molasses.

Akira cheered from their chair, “Ooh! We went skating for our date! She held my hand the whole time and we had hot chocolate afterwards. I got some whipped cream on my nose and when I wiped it off she kissed my cheek!”

You watched Akira’s eyes become half lidded. Rin decided to take the following science to fly a pin your way.

“How did your date go?”

You laughed like a fog horn. “We caught a couple getting frisky in the love tunnel at the carnival and then went to this cutsie cafe that had sort of meh drinks. Then again, it seemed less like people went for food but instead to make out. So we ditched and went to a family restaurant before watching the Sendai Frogs play.”

“You just ditched the whole Valentine’s day date thing?” Momo pouted.

Takahashi snorted. “Why am I not surprised? I can’t imagine you, or Mad-Dog enjoying that sort of thing.”

Rin whined, “But you were supposed to have a cute date and fall in love and stuff!” To which you just silently shrugged in response. “Do you even plan on going on another date?”

“Uh, there’s another Sendai frogs game, but other than that, it’s technically his turn to plan, I think.”

Momo looked at you as if he had just heard a forecast of endless bad weather. “You think?”

Again, you shrugged.

Your gloved fist hammered on the wooden door, making a dull thud rather than a recognisable knock. It had gotten colder over the week, like nature wanted to sneeze out its last remaining bits of winter before spring came around. Even the weather forecast talked about a probable chance of cold winds and snow coming from the north for the next while. It was cold, getting colder, and you were on the racecar stripped teen boy’s doorstep, shivering in it.

He finally opened the door, yawning and still in his baggy pyjamas.

You scoffed, “Sleep in?”

“Ya. Come in. I’ll get changed.”

You brushed past him and pulled off your outdoor clothes, eager to soak in the heat. “Don’t bother, it’s fine. You can get changed before we leave if it’s more comfortable. Not like I'm dressed all that fancy.” You gestured to your sloppy sweatpants and shirt before taking your shoes off. “So what's the plan for today?”

Not needing to take care of extra clothing like you did, Kyoutani took a few extra steps into the living room and grabbed two remote controls off the coffee table. “I’ll order fried chicken and pizza in a bit too.”

You smirked, “Oh, I see. You ready to lose?” Finally removing your second shoe, you rushed forward, snatching the remote from his hand and flopping onto the couch.

“As if.”

The pizza had been eaten quickly between matches, Kyoutani eating half of your side of the pie after he had inhaled a hefty amount of fried chicken. Despite the constantly full mouth, it didn’t seem to prevent him from talking.

“Shut up and get out of my way!”

“No way. We’re going against each other, I’m trying to win!”

Kyoutani kicked a leg up onto the couch and pushed his heel into your shoulder. Being shoved sideways sends your arm askew, making you kiss the needed buttons.

Kyoutani jumps to his feet, stretching his arms high into the air before crashing down into a hunched squat. “Fuck Ya!”

“Oh, fuck you, cheater!” You dropped the remote in exchange for the throw pillow that you had been, well, thrown into, and used it for the purpose it’s name suggested. Kyoutani’s head, followed by the rest of his body in a wave like motion, toppled sideways, before spinning back and landing on the couch. Then, your alarm rang.

Drunk Guy wasn’t present at the game this time, you’d never know for sure why. But you always told yourself that he probably got too drunk at a nearby bar, and couldn’t make the extra trip. Though you would never be upset about his absence, a game where he would likely start yelling at his own team, made you grateful you didn’t have to hear his crude ramblings.

The game was disappointing. With the team's ace injured after last week, a concussion along with a badly bruised nose, morale had dropped and the team wasn’t playing their best. It wasn’t a bad game, necessarily, close in score and filled with good plays. But within five minutes, everyone in the stadium seemed to know that Sendai Frogs were going to lose.

You sighed, and turned to look Kyoutani’s way, who —despite the obvious loss— was staring intently at the match before him. Looking closer, it was almost as if his eyes were glowing. Amber, gold, and honey.

Before you realised it, the first set ended and Kyoutani sank into his seat with a huff.

“You look very intense when you’re watching the game. It’s a bit scary, but your eyes look very pretty too.”

“Shut up.” He pushed you over, making you laugh and retaliate by doing the same.

“Oh that reminds me, do you bleach your eyebrows too?”

New letters were decorating the tables when you arrived at class on Monday morning. You didn’t even wait for Momo and Takahashi to arrive when you dropped onto your assigned chair and tore the envelope open.

“Ah,” Momo had shown up, peeking over your shoulder. “An ice skating coupon, that’s fun!”

You crumpled the letter, and stuffed it in your backpack.

Takahashi had sat down as well, pulling the happy girl off your shoulder and pushing her into her own chair. “Can Mad-Dog even skate?”

You groaned, at least it wasn’t the carnival again. And with Valentine’s day over most of the red heart and rose decorations would be gone. Though, that didn’t mean anything for White day, perhaps why would have just changed the colour scheme a bit for the next few weeks. “I don’t know, but it looks like I’m going to find out. This coupon is 50% off for couples. Gotta abuse that.”

Thinking more about it, the Sendai Frogs game that week was in another city, so instead of seeing it in person, you’d be watching the live broadcast. You weren’t sure if Kyoutani would mind coming to your place to watch it or not, but he had invited you to his home, so.

You hummed.

Kyoutani hummed also, when you showed him the coupon and mentioned the away game. You quickly left though, at the teasing sounds of laughter and pursing lips from his teammates behind him. You understood why he lashed out at them.

“Ouch, ouch. Hey, too much!”

To Kyoutani’s credit, he knew how to skate. Though his heart belonged to volleyball, being an athlete set him up to at least have transferable skills in all sports. Along with his skills however, his insistent need for perfection and winning seemed to carry over too, even in things that weren’t competitive in and of themselves.

He tugged your skates laces tighter, practically suffocating your foot

“Watch it! You’re gonna tear the thing right off!”

From his kneeled position before you, blade between his knees, he looked up and gave you a glare. “Do you want to break an ankle?”

“No, ideally not.”

“Then shut up and deal with it.”

He just had to show off that he was better at tying laces than you were. And what sucked more, he actually was.

The skating rink was outdoors, split into two sections, one where people played a bit of hockey, or did fancy tricks, and the other that was limited to casual skating. Beside it, a large wooden cabin-like building that functioned as a change room and cafe along with having rentable skates. Kyoutani had you sitting on one of the wooden benches until he got your skates fused to your legs.

Once on the ice, Kyoutani had no qualms about shouldering you, trying to knock you off balance, confident in his work of your laces. Of course, you retaliated, making the shoving match continue as bruises built underneath your jackets and you both began to build more speed turning the shoving matches into dodging and then a flat out race.

You could barely hear Kyoutani’s growls over the cold wind that rushed by your ears. People yelped as you both zipped by, nearly knocking them over. The speed was exhilarating, you haven't skated in years and sliding across the ice at a speed you had never reached before was like becoming a new person. You and Kyoutani were neck in neck with a clear path ahead of you. You wanted to win.

The feeling of cold wind pushing back against your speed made you think for a half second. It had been a number of years since you stepped foot on ice. Maybe you should’ve practiced stopping.

Kyoutani held two ice packs in his hands, one in each. He pressed the one in his left against the swelling spot on top of his as the other, in his right, was pushed against your forehead. He was, also, holding up the weight of your head as you jokingly slumped into it as you filled out the skating rinks injury form. At least you were smiling and not grimacing over the pain he supposed.

It was a simple questionnaire, primarily going over the incident and making you both confess over how dumb you were being while promising not to sue them over your mistake. When you finally gave the piece of paper back, Kyoutani was able to hand off your ice pack and return your skates to the amused worker behind the counter. He glared at the man.

The ice packs were luckily one time use, meaning that you could take it home, not that it was all that different than just standing out in the cold.

Kyoutani groaned from the ache in his head as you both walked. “Did you really have to fill out that form?”

“Just be happy that I didn’t make you fill out one too. And belides. It was kind of fun.”

For once, you were grateful for the frigid temperatures. The feeling of the wind and snowflakes against your burning forehead was relaxing. You were almost sad when you arrived home.

“Oh! You must be Kyoutani! My, I never thought I’d see the day that my kid went on a date!”

You tried not to gag at the memory of the first ‘date’. Beside you, Kyoutani didn’t hide his disgust. Your mother didn’t pay any mind though, running up to you both, helping you out of your winter gear, all while gushing about the thought of her darling child finally behind with someone. You pretended not to hear her mention Takahashi and Momo and her thoughts of setting you up with either of them.

“I wouldn’t say it’s a date exactly—”

“Dinner is ready, love birds! Grab your plates.” Your dad called from the kitchen.

You cursed yourself silently for mentioning Kyoutani coming over to watch the game. If you hadn’t, the two might have actually stayed at work like they usually did.

One hand on either of your backs, You bother ushered you into the kitchen to stuff your plates.

Sitting around your living room furniture as your parents stared at you and Kyoutani like reincarnations of past lovers made you want to regurgitate the food you had already tried to each under their oppressing gazes. You tried your best to focus on the match that was streaming on the screen in front of you.

“Could you not stare—”

“So, Kyoutani, did they ask you out on Valentine’s day? It was with the chicken right? Oh, darling, why didn’t you tell us you had a crush?”

From the corner of your eye, you could see the blond's shoulders crawl up to his ears.

“I didn’t, I don’t,” you huffed, setting your nearly empty plate down. You didn’t have the appetite any longer. “It’s a school organized event by the student council. So, I didn’t really ask him out. We just sort of got paired up.”

“Ah, have you two been having fun on your dates at least?” Your dad piped in.

Kyoutani set his own plate down, not even a trace of food was left. “The first date was pretty trash, the rest have been fine, I guess.”

You blinked. Would you ever get a better compliment from the boy than that? You felt rather smug. You nodded, “We didn’t really have a say in that one, but ya, it was pretty bad.”

Your mom frowned, “Oh? Why not?”

“Stupid horn dogs and a fucking love fest of a theme park.”

Again, you nodded. “Exactly that, really.”

“Oh, but the Valentine's theme park is so cute and romantic!” for a moment you watched as your mom fell into your dad's arms dramatically, showering him with love and adoration that he eagerly reciprocated as they both thought back to fond memories of dates and other things.

Their ramblings became mute to your ears as you turned your head to instead watch Sendai Frogs score a clean point and take the set.You and Kyoutani cheered, his hand came to clasp your shoulder again in the excitement.

By the time it had come for Kyoutani to make his way home, your parents had gone off to who knows where.

You leaned on the door frame as he pulled his shoes on. “I’m sorry if they made you uncomfortable. When I mentioned you coming over for the game, they insisted on getting out of work early. I guess, I know why now.”

“They’re just weird fuckers who care to much about your love life. It’s weird, but fine. Not too different from everyone else.”

You didn’t hold back your laughter, “You’re not wrong! Huh, I don’t think I ever really noticed that.”

Even before the student councils, meddling, dating and crushes seemed to be all people talked about outside of school and a few other things. Classmates, schoolmates, celebrities, fictional characters. Did it ever stop?

“Do your parents do that? Like what mine did?”

Kyoutani swung on his coat and glared to the ceiling as if in deep thought, maybe he did have to think hard about it and you were just mistaking it for his usual look. “Not really. My mom tells my dad how handsome he is and my dad will hold her and take care of her. But I've seen friends do that too. He never buys roses or chocolates, and she never makes elaborate meals to celebrate anniversaries. I don’t even know if they had a wedding. I just know that they love each other.”

That’s it, huh?

He zipped his coat and continued after another pause. “They’ve never pestered me about anything like yours seem to either. They care more about how I'm doing in school and if I’m staying out of trouble.”

You stared at the class one student with a delinquent’s reputation and smirked. “Are you? Staying out of trouble that is.”

He huffed and zipped up his coat. “Shut up. I’m managing.”

When he took one step out the door, he turned around to look at you with his signature glare, before holding up his puffy sleeve covered arms.

Smiling, you let go of the door and sank into the hug with a slow sigh. “Get some safe, okay? Watch out for the ice.”

He was warm. His hands were still on your back for a moment before brushing along the length of your spine and pulling away with an affirmative hum.

Rin stared at you with a dropped jaw and pinched eyes. The journalism club, as they do once the main load of work was done, was once again talking about their dates. Fuji used the opportunity to make a small sampled report to give to the student council every week. But within your small group of friends, you seemed to be an outlier.

“Let me get this straight. You guys shoved each other around on the ice, raced, and slammed into the barrier instead of, like, holding hands and drinking hot chocolate?”

You nodded as your fingers ran across your laptop's keyboard. “Ya. Why would we do all that stuff?”

Rin groaned, fists slamming into her thighs. “‘Cause it’s supposed to be a date! A romantic date!”

“Why though?”

Kaito rolled his eyes before smacking the back of his classmate's head. “Leave it alone. There’s only one more date left anyways. And if they don’t want to date they don’t have to. This is the first time the Student council has done this sort of thing, so it’s not perfect. They just don’t like each other.”

You tilted your head in the younger students direction as you listened to his tired words. Not like each other? You did like Kyoutani. Why wouldn’t you? Sure things started off a bit strangely; being thrown into an uncomfortable situation with a stranger is weird. But you did like him. He was passionate about competition and sports. Particularly volleyball, which you had a shared interest in. He was funny, and at least someone fun to anger since his reactions here were entertaining. He was aggressive and maybe a bit scary at times, but not without reason. He was fun, liked dogs, and gave good hugs too. Why was there not to like?

You stared at your clubmates as they went on to talk about their matches. Was it really all that different? Rin’s whine stabbed your ear drum. You winced.

Maybe it was different.

But who gives a fuck?

Momo and Takahashi were already on the raised platform when you arrived. Though you three had nearly always been by each other's sides, since the two got matched up however, they had been stuck like glue in and outside of school. You didn’t even know they liked each other like that. You slid in next to Momo.

The boy’s volleyball team members were the the court, facing off against another school for a friendly scrimmage practice. From what Kyoutani had mentioned, at the end of the school year, they invited as many opposing teams as possible for a final hurrah of playing. All just for fun. You hadn’t ever taken a moment to watch any of the boys teams, but when Kyoutani had brought up the friendly, end of year tournament, asked (insisted) on being there to watch a few games.

Your teeth dug into your lip as Kyoutani shoved past his teammates to get a spike in against the opposing team. Never having seen him play before, you could now clearly see why Momo and Takahashi were concerned beforehand. But it didn’t stop you from cheering his name loudly when the ball landed with a dangerous thwack at their libero’s feet, just inside the line.

Momo pulled your arms down from their victorious thrusting. “Are you sure you don’t like Kyoutani?”

You huffed, arms crossing as you narrowed your eyes at the girl. “What do you mean? I do like him. I wouldn’t have come to watch otherwise.”

Takahashi continued to type on his laptop. Likely a play by play of sorts so that he could include it at the end of year article. Sadly, none-of the girl’s teams had anything going on. So there wasn’t anything for you to contribute other than a summary of the year and edits. He groaned when Momo leaned backwards against him, still giving you a suspicious glare.

“Okay… if you say so.”

Why she was hung up about it, you would never understand.

You were walking off the platform when you spotted the striped boy pounce on his captain.

Oikawa always was a bit of a twerp, annoying Kyoutani and trying to find every button that would make him explode.

“Oh, Mad-Dog! Your little date is here.” The captain sang, digging his fingers into the younger student’s shoulder.

Kyoutani groaned indignantly. “We aren’t dating, asswipe.”

“Really? They were cheering for you pretty loud. Louder than my fans even. Are you sure you aren’t an item? I knew our plan would work out!”

Kyoutani glared at the brunette, huffing hot air out of his nose as he crouched down. “Fight me you piece of shit!” he lunged, and choked.

Iwaizumi held the back of the boy’s collar, just holding him out of reach for Oikawa’s neck. The smiling brunet sang a little tune.

The rest of the team watched on with mute laughter as their resident pound dog got his leash tightened on his by the dog walker. Iwaizumi sighed.

“Settle down, chihuahua. He’s not worth it!”

“Hey, Kyoutani!”

It wasn’t the first time the team had seen you, so actually seeing you, along with two friends, though a bit out of the blue, was not really anything brand new to them. What was surprising though, was the sight of their rabid friend's shoulders relaxed and the aggressive creases in his face softened as he looked your way.

You parted ways from Momo and Takahashi at the school gate. Kyoutani looped his arm through yours once they were out of sight.

“Okay. So why did you do the questionnaire if you didn’t want to go on any dates?”

“Fuck if I know! Those assholes made me do it. Wouldn’t stop pestering me about getting a date until I filled it out! And they’re still bothering me about it!”

You laughed, kicking a snowball that was left on the sidewalk.

“You aren’t like those asswipes either. Why did you sign up?”

“It was an accident actually.” Kyoutani raised an invisible brow in your direction. “We were helping the student council look over the questions and fill them out to see if they were any good. Test dummies essentially. Plus I like quizzes and questionnaires. But when Fuji gave them back with recommendations, I guess mine got filtered into the system even though it was the draft version. My friends keep getting annoyed that I don't do what they expect me to on these damn dates.”

You paused, holding Kyoutani back as you looked at the large snowflakes that were now following on his head.

“But honestly, I’m not even mad about it. Sure the first date was weird as all hell. But I like hanging out with you.”

“Hmm.”

You watched as a large fluff of snow landed on Kyoutani’s nose. Making him scribble up from the cold and snake the offending fluff off. A snort escaped you, making you hunch over in laughter.

Kyoutani growled at the sound and tugged you by your attached arms, pulling you into his chest.

“You’re warm. It’s nice,” your laughter subsided. “And you smell like sweat. Less nice. Did you not shower after the game?”

“Shut up.” Kyoutani’s eyes were closed as he tilted his head back towards the sky and let the softly falling clumps of white fluff land on his face.

You smiled, sinking into his hug. “Who cares if we’re not doing what everyone else wants. I like what we’re doing.”

“Hmm.”

The boy seemed to leave his door unlocked a lot.

“KENTAROU!”

Raising your leg up, you shoved your heel into the (already open, you didn’t want to damage anything) wood door, making it swing open.

On the other side, Kyoutani was padded up in his heaviest winter gear in a deep lunge, ready to dive.

The temperature had dropped again, the final assault of snow that week had made large stacks of snow that had to be shoveled through. Spring will come soon.

Seeing the blond boy’s conniving smirk, you held your hands up and surrendered, taking a few steps off his porch so that your back was facing the snow mound on his front yard. Once your arms lowered, all truces were off, and he pounced.

Hands collided with your shoulders, sending you flying backwards into the snow, and landing with a force that knocked the air out of your lungs.

You wheezed, “Fuck you!”

“Get off your ass. We have a game to win.”

His smile was contagious.

The Haishi Automotive Lions were the Sendai Frogs biggest rivals. All the players seemed to know each other really well, and got along great, which just made them want to one up each other more, no matter the outside standing of the V league. As it was one of the biggest games of the season, it also had a large turnout.

Drunk Guy included.

Spotting him in the crowd, Kyoutani’s eyes narrowed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, stitching your spots before you slid into your seats. His arm stuck there like glue afterwards.

Having an extra body in the way for the man’s screams to bounce off instead of going directly into your ear was definitely a blessing. Especially when the Lions came out and a roar of heckles were thrown their way.

You groaned, shutting your eyes and letting your head fall onto Kyoutani’s shoulder. “This is going to be a long game.”

“We should get you noise canceling headphones.”

It was, in fact, a long game. The Sendai Frogs, having their star player back after his two week concussion recovery, was able to hold a steady lead throughout the first set. Finishing their first set winning with 27 points.

The crowd had gone wild when the referee’s whistle blew, rising to their feet as they screamed and pumped the fists. Kyoutani’s hand remained on your shoulder as you stood up to cheer along.

The second set had been much harder but ended similarly with 29 points for the Frogs, who were happily drinking cold water in their green jerseys that were gradually becoming more and more laden with sweat.

The Lions took the 3rd set with 28, and the 4th with 31.

The crowd had become restless and agitated, screaming all the nasty things they could against the opposing team. Which only made the visiting Lion’s fans retaliate with their own hateful words.

You groaned into Kyoutani’s shoulder, hoping that you would be able to leave the stadium without getting stuck in a brawl. It happens sometimes.

Luckily though, you managed to leave the stadium alive and with a happy smile at the memory of the Sendai Frogs taking the 5th set at 18 points with a gym rattling spike from their captain.

“AAH!” You shot your arms into the air. Letting the heavy snow fall on your cheeks. “That was amazing! Kyoutani, you’re gonna come to the game next week, right?”

His head tilted. “Isn’t this the last date?”

March 14th, White day, was next week. Meaning that everyone who hadn’t confessed on Valentine's day would take the opportunity to confess their love with the symbolic white roses. How could you have forgotten?

You paused, staring at the bow with an exaggerated scoff. “We talked about this already

“Who gives a fuck?”

The boys volleyball team had dismissed themselves from practice early so that they could go give out their white roses. This left the gym nearly deserted with the exception for the super dedicated players, ie the captain and a couple lackeys, tossing balls into the air. You had pulled Kyoutani up to the viewing ledge, where you could sit at least somewhat privately, while also still being in close access to the gym floor, should he want to run back on at any moment.

Your brow furrowed as you looked over the questions of the exit questionnaire that was left on your desk that morning. “Are you going to continue dating going forward? Yes or No? Seriously, that's too simplistic.”

“The fuckers set us up, what do you expect?” He took a bite from his Hamima Chicken, “What do you want to say?”

Dropping the sheet into your lap, you paused, and looked his way, watching as he scarfed down another bite without breaking a sweat. “What do you want to say?”

He swallowed and looked at the paper before throwing his head back with an annoyed grunt. “Who gives a crap!” he shoved the rest of the branded fried chicken down his throat before grabbing something from his bag and throwing it against your head.

It was hard, and crickled on impact before landing on the sheet of paper in your lap with a thud.

“You were supposed to catch it dumbass!”

“I didn’t know you were throwing something at me!” you laughed, rubbing the spot on your temple.

Picking up the crinkly plastic wrapped gift you admired, the inconsistent sized hard candy that sat inside of it. At the tied opening, a small card read ‘Happy White Day” is his recognisable messy handwriting.

You smiled. “Thank you, Kentarou.”

The questionnaire was left blank.

This is the closest I’ve been to not finishing a oneshot in time, I thought I was gonna split it into parts.

Lol, I love this one. I just let my ace heart run wild with platonic fics, could’ve probably written so much more if I paced myself better.

holy shit 31 pages. - Bacon

It was very cute :( it didn’t even feel like 31 pages lskdjfla - Kiwi

11k wordsssss - Bacon

It’s about drive, it’s about power - Kiwi

We stay hungry, we devour - Bacon

PUT IN THE WORK, PUT IN THE HOURS AND TAKE WHAT'S OURS - Kiwi

Okayyy gotta post nowwww back to essay writing and date memorizing - kiwi

Posted: 05/12/2021

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letterboxd · 3 years

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Chaotic Bisexual.

Shiva Baby writer-director Emma Seligman tells Ella Kemp about expanding her wildly cringey short film into an even more anxiety-inducing feature, why Virgo and Taurus make the perfect producing pair, and the eternal conflict of being a good Jewish girl.

“If I can skip a bris to see E.T., I like movies!” —Emma Seligman

It sounds like a strange riff on a guy-walks-into-a-bar joke: a girl walks into a shiva and bumps into her secret ex-girlfriend, then her sugar daddy, then his shiksa wife, oh, and their baby—yet the payoff is so much more rewarding.

Filmmaker Emma Seligman’s debut feature is a new kind of teen classic: 78 non-stop minutes teeming with well-drawn traits and tropes that define the best coming-of-agers, the best Jewish comedies and the best day-in-a-life psychological roller-coasters.

Shiva Baby began as a grad project—a short film of the same name—and Seligman’s feature-length embellishment impressed at last year’s virtual editions of SXSW and TIFF, where it was quickly snapped up for international distribution. In a way, Shiva Baby was perfectly tailored to the times we were living in: Danielle, our reluctant heroine, is trapped in a claustrophobic family event she can’t escape, as people from her past and lies about her future make their way deep under her skin.

Fred Melamed, Rachel Sennott and Polly Draper in ‘Shiva Baby’.

Shiva Baby is very much the product of a wry school of emerging filmmakers who understand excruciatingly mundane horror and pin-sharp comedy as intimate bedfellows. Seligman’s writing finds a way to flesh out gloriously caricatural Jewish relatives, probing and overbearing and irrational. She does this both through dialogue and a visceral, haptic aesthetic that lurches in and out of focus visually, and has a nails-on-chalkboard unease sonically.

Coming in hot with a 4.01 average rating, Shiva Baby is striking all sorts of discordant notes with film lovers. “Combines some of my biggest anxieties: being asked if I have a boyfriend as well as what my plans for the future are and people talking with their mouths full,” writes Muriel.

The film’s “bisexual chaos”, which hinges on a haywire performance from Rachel Sennott as Danielle, opposite Molly Gordon’s overachieving ex-girlfriend, Maya, is also one of its great strengths. Glee star Dianna Agron is the shiksa threat, Kim, while Danny Deferrari is Danielle’s hapless benefactor, Max. If that’s not enough? Polly Draper, Fred Melamed and Jackie Hoffman are also just there.

What do you think defines a Jewish sense of humor? Emma Seligman: It’s morbid usually, and darker—generally uncomfortable and cringeworthy. I think about Curb Your Enthusiasm or Seinfeld, and A Serious Man. It borders on, “Is this funny at all?” I think Jewish humor leans into the darkly funny British sense of humor. I’m Canadian, so I feel like I’m halfway between the UK and the US in terms of their sense of humor.

Was it always your intention to make a comedy that feels like a bit of a nightmare? You’ve mentioned Black Swan and Opening Night as touchstones… Because I came from a short film, the question when expanding into a feature was, “How are we going to keep everyone interested in this day?” It’s got to be a significant day, it’s got to be that this young woman’s life has completely changed from this day. So what is it that changes? Why are we watching it? I watched a lot of movies that took place in one day, one of them was Trey Edward Shults’ first film Krisha. And then from there I realized that anxiety and this scary psychological feeling is a great way to have the audience stay there.

I watched Opening Night because there’s a shiva in it, but it was more the lobby scenes that were so claustrophobic and tense. And then each step of the way with each department, we were like, okay, it’s gonna be tense, but then we got to music, I was like, okay, this has become a full nightmare. Initially, I was just like, it’s got to be tense, but by the end, I was like, well, it does feel like a nightmare to a young woman sometimes.

Because you mention that, I have to ask whether you’ve seen Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade? I have, it’s incredible. It’s so funny, they’re both coming-of-age [films], and one of them is about a fourteen year old and then the same sort of feeling exists when you’re 22. When you’re fourteen is when it begins, and when you’re 22 you’re sort of at the end of it and you’re like, “Oh, I thought I figured out what I was supposed to do when I started feeling insecure this way at fourteen about sex and boys.”

Diana Agron and Danny Deferrari in ‘Shiva Baby’.

Let’s talk about Rachel Sennott, who you have describe as your “Virgo rock”. What do you bring one another in your creative partnership? She’s a hustler, and she sets goals like nobody else. I think she moves very fast, and I’m more detail-oriented. I don’t know if the movie would have happened without her because she was like, “What are the goals to achieve this film?” After we made the short film, she just kept checking in with me. She goes well beyond what an actor does, which is why she’s an executive producer, because she was very, very invested in seeing the movie get made.

I think she pushes. We joke that she brings me out of my depression and I help calm her down. I feel like Taurus is a little more chill. Virgos are also earth signs, but they run on a faster frequency. So I think I calm her down, especially when we’re writing and bringing it back to structure. But she’s way funnier, she’s able to give jokes so quickly. We balance each other perfectly, for sure.

Do you think your partnership with Rachel is the kind of partnership you could see yourself maintaining throughout your career? Definitely. I think it’s important to have a good friend and also a young woman. She’s got different career goals from me, but they’re aligned. And we’re not in competition with each other. I feel so grateful because so much of the time I feel like the world does make you feel like you’re in competition with your friends that are trying to do the same thing as you when you’re a young woman—or just maybe in general.

Rachel Sennott and Danny Deferrari in ‘Shiva Baby’.

Her character in Shiva Baby completely subverts the idea of a “nice Jewish boy/girl” which can be a trope in movies, but also very much a real thing in life. Is that something you consciously wanted to subvert, or did it come organically from the story you wanted to tell? I wanted to contrast that idea of a “nice Jewish girl” because every nice Jewish girl or boy has a sex life. I felt the sort of nice Jewish girl stressors on me were completely opposite from the NYU art school sugaring worlds, and hookup culture broadly. My family is such a huge part of my life and I think that those two sets of pressures are completely contradictory; to be a good girl or boy and have a stable career ahead of you, and to be finding, even if it’s at the very beginning, your eventual partner, or to just be in a relationship. And I felt like in school, no one wanted to date, everyone was hooking up. So many of my friends are sugar babies. I tried it super, super briefly.

I felt like the world was telling me to be like “an empowered, independent, sexy woman who doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her, and doesn’t abide by any rules”, and I was like, “This is the opposite of being a nice Jewish girl!” And I just felt like those two things were screaming at me. So I did want to play on that. But I don’t even think it’s playing, just because that felt like what I was trying to battle within myself. And I think a lot of young people do, whether they’re Jewish or not. That’s their family’s expectations. And then the world is like, “But don’t care and don’t commit…”

Writer-director Emma Seligman. / Photo by Emma McIntyre

But then you still have to go home to your parents at the end of the day and they’re going to tell you what to do… Exactly.

What would you want viewers to take away from Shiva Baby about the sugaring community that you feel has been maligned in the past? I’m not a sex worker, so I don’t want to speak on behalf of this community, but I definitely feel like there hasn’t been many positive portrayals of sex workers. So I just wanted to show someone—because I knew so many friends of mine who did it—who enjoyed it, or purposefully did it and didn’t feel bad or shameful about it. I think maybe a lot of people think that it’s always something that comes out of dire circumstances. But whether that is the case or not, I think there’s a lot of people who enjoy it and enjoy what they do like any other job. So I just hope that they’re able to sort of widen their scope of what a sex worker looks like and acts like. Every sex worker has got a family, friends, a full robust life, as we all do.

It’s time for your Life in Film questionnaire. Can you give me a few must-watch Jewish films for people who don’t know where to start? Fiddler on the Roof, Yentl, Keeping the Faith, Kissing Jessica Stein, A Serious Man. Definitely Uncut Gems, and Crossing Delancey.

Shiva Baby has been described on Letterboxd, variously, as “Uncut Gems but make it chaotic bisexual”, “the most stressful Jewish movie since Uncut Gems”, “the chaotic successor of Uncut Gems”, “if Krisha and Uncut Gems had a baby”, and, of course, “Uncut Gems for hot Jewish sluts”… Amazing, I love that. Extremely nice comparison.

Who is your favorite promising young woman? Not Emerald Fennell’s film, but a young creative or performer who you think is making waves. I love Hari Nef—I think she’s amazing and am really excited to see what she does next. I loved her so much in Transparent and Assassination Nation, and I don’t understand why she hasn’t been the lead in a million movies.

Molly Gordon with Rachel Sennott in ‘Shiva Baby’.

What should people watch next after Shiva Baby? Those Jewish movies would be a great start. And then Krisha, although I think a lot of people have seen it especially if they’re on Letterboxd! But then those Jewish romantic comedies, and then Obvious Child, all those movies are very sweet and endearing and helped me make it.

Separate from film, if it’s shiva-related then Transparent. If I didn’t have Transparent I don’t think I would have seen world of grounded, nuanced Jews that I could do comedy with. It would have been more in the Curb vein, which is also amazing, but a little more schtick.

What was the first film that made you want to be a filmmaker? My parents are huge movie buffs so I’m not sure there was one moment, but I will say that when I was six there was a re-release of the 20-year anniversary of E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial and I was at a horribly packed bris and my uncle was like, “Fuck this, there are so many people here, I can’t even breathe. Let’s go see E.T.” That was the first moment where I was like, if I can skip a bris to see E.T., I like movies.

Related content

From Short to Feature: Rob’s list of 2020 films that made the jump

Jewish Cinema (non-Holocaust): Amelia’s list of films “for when u want to celebrate your heritage but don’t want to have to think all too deeply about the Shoah”

Best Directorial Debuts of 2020: suggested by Letterboxd members, featuring Shiva Baby

Follow Ella on Letterboxd

Shiva Baby is now in select theaters and on VOD in the US. Film stills by Maria Rusche.

#shiva baby #emma seligman #jewish filmmaker #jewish director #directed by women #rachel sennott #jewish film #jewish movie #transparent #uncut gems #hari nef #e.t. the extra terrestrial #obvious child #krisha #trey edward shults

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babsvibes · 2 years

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Who are your favorite "Bob's Burgers" characters and why? Any number of characters will do, but more than one would be nice. :3

Thank you for the ask, and also, hey, first ask woo!!! 🥰 I worry you don’t know what you signed up for, so please grab a snack for this one lol

Short answer, my favorite characters are the reason the best gif of all time exists

Long answer,

My favorite by a mile is Louise! A Louise-centric episode is basically guaranteed to be a winner for me (unless it’s a heavy-handed morality lesson, which... ehhh...). Earsy Rider, The Kids Run Away, Thelma & Louise Except Thelma is Linda all come to mind.

I love her motivations, her humor, and her strong-will.

Like the rest of the family, she doesn’t fit an exact mold and lends herself to these unique plots so well. To me, it’s a flavor of magical realism. Not magic-magic, but the outlandish elements played in reality are just *chef’s kiss* like how many kids do you know are friends with a biker gang, gamble with their landlord, and accidentally work on a pot farm?

Who doesn’t love a cup of “the small, cute one is also an evil mastermind” in the morning, right?

Her brand of chaos is immaculate. Though, she’s kind of experiencing the opposite of flanderization, in that more of her episodes lately tend to be centered on how her chaos is morally wrong. An episode like Art Crawl doesn’t seem like it could happen in these later seasons, where Louise is mean, makes money off it, and suffers no consequences. Let👏girls👏be👏mean👏 buuut then we flavor her with a deep love for her family, so she’s not an antagonist 😂 But hey least I can always rewatch the classics!

And that’s why, unfortunately, Logan is also my favorite character lol

Surface level, he and Louise are pretty similar in what they care about and how they react when challenged. They both see themselves as the leader of their loved ones (Louise with her siblings and Logan with trying to make his friends comfortable/enjoy themselves at the steps, the hill, and the restaurant), have a uhh let’s call it “unique” perspective on morality, enjoy pranks and chaos, and jump to revenge when they’ve been wronged in their eyes.

But that’s not the only way in which my love for Logan is an extension of my love for Louise. He’s her nemesis because he challenges her, like antagonists are supposed to do lol. If she’s not challenged, we don’t get to see her come out on top. Louise actually isn’t the only one he pushes either. In the infamous melon episode, we see him as Gene’s push. But that’s an essay for another day 😂

As her ARCH nemesis, he has more longevity than any other character she’s gotten into a scrap with (that could be personal bias because the things he says are so delightfully weird like “you can’t buy me like a cheap sex lady”). Louise tends to run over characters that might oppose her, think the “breezing right past you” lines, which is fun in its own right but could get stale. Logan’s not that guy she breezes right past, and we get to see the full extent of Louise’s crazy.

Beyond that, Bob’s Burgers writers use Logan in creative ways for each of his episodes, give him hilarious lines, and add background details (like him messing with the chalkboard) that make this dumb teenager so entertaining to me.

In conclusion,

#bob’s burgers #louise belcher #logan bush #sailoreuterpe #babsbles #asks

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exeggcute · 2 years

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dream job ranking (updated)

(1) game manual writer

(2) bassist in a ska band [changelog: updated from trumpet player to bassist in light of recent skill acquisitions]

(3) trader joe's chalkboard artist who makes those signs with like a drawing of a polar bear surfing but the surfboard is a giant knockoff oreo or whatever

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msoogabooga · 3 years

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Wasting Away (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Chp. I - A Sworn Enemy

Warnings- None

Word Count- 2146

Summary- You have singlehandedly decided that Tom Riddle is to be your sworn enemy until the end of time.

A/N- Hello! This is my first chaptered Tom Riddle fic. Hope you enjoy and tune in for more!

•••

Tom Riddle was the loneliest boy that had ever existed. You were certain of it whenever you witnessed him walk alone in the corridors or when he picked at his food in the great hall while everyone around him chattered amongst themselves, leaving him be. Ever so often you take a glance at his parchment paper in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where he sits next to you, and you catch him writing lines of beauty. Words that flow together and create great works of art. That is until he catches you staring and covers his paper with his arm, not before cursing under his breath at you of course.

Oh yes, though you felt a sense of pity for the lonely boy, you swore to hate him until the day he died. It wasn’t always this way, of course. You wouldn’t be so cruel as to hate an innocent peer. In fact, you even thought to befriend him of course. The unforgivable day happened outside on the castle grounds. It had been raining quite heavily that day. You ran through the downpour of the storm as your house scarf floated behind you and your mary janes began to stain from the wet dirt. You had finally reached the shelter of an arched corridor and began drying yourself with your scarf. A sudden clatter startled you as you turned your head towards the direction of the noise. The black-haired Slytherin boy was crouched on the ground picking up a bundle of textbooks and parchment papers he had dropped. He began to grow more frustrated when he realized they had become soaked from the seeping rainwater that came through the window. With a pitiful frown, you rushed over to help him.

“Better the books than yourself,” You said with a smile, acknowledging your rained-out state as you began to pick up pieces of parchment. “The storm came so suddenly. I hardly had any time to rush to safety and, well, this happened. I was playing Quidditch you see. It was a bit cloudy, sure, but not even the greatest prophecies could’ve predicted this storm. You’re quite lucky, though. You don’t seem to have a drop on you, except on your schoolwork of course.” Tom Riddle snatches the parchment from your hands so fast that it leaves you with a papercut on your hand. You wince and take your hand back before shooting him a glare.

“Do you mock me?” He spat.

“I was just trying to help,” you explained with a grumble in your voice. “You didn’t have to be so harsh.”

“What makes you think you are allowed to talk to me?” Tom picks up the rest of his items and stands up. You stood up right after.

“Well excuse me all high and mighty. I didn’t know I needed to sign a prerequisite form before daring to stand in your presence. As I said, I was just trying to be of some assistance.”

“I never asked for any assistance. You’re making me seem pitiful.”

“Or maybe, get this, I was just trying to be nice!”

Tom scoffs. “Nice? Yeah, alright.” He makes a sharp turn and begins walking in the opposite direction of yours.

“What is wrong with you?” You shout. “I don’t even know who you are!”

Tom stops. He began walking towards you once more. You take a step back, unsure of what caused him to turn around. “Of course you don’t. I don’t expect you to. But I know everything I need to know about you. You’re the type of person to befriend a lonely kid because you feel it’s your moral obligation. Because you think that this will help boost your popularity points. Don’t think I don’t see right through you. I see the way your friends whisper and giggle at me in the corridors. You may not think I hear it but I do. So if you think you’re going to make a fool out of me for your own benefit then you’re clearly mistaken. So you can go back to your friends and tell them all about our interaction because I know you will. Now, goodbye.”

He walked away before you even had a chance to respond. You wanted to clarify. To say that you don’t approve of your friends gossiping. That you genuinely meant to help him out. But your saltiness took over and you only replied with, “AT LEAST I HAVE FRIENDS.”

You were unsure if he heard you or not because he had already disappeared from view. But you were satisfied. You knew who he was, obviously. That part was a lie. Tom Riddle was quite infamous for his knowledge in Defense Against the Dark Arts and is an acclaimed member of the Slug Club as well as yourself. You had even made eye contact with him a few times while you had dinner with Slughorn and the rest of the Slug Club. But you never expected this innocently kind looking boy to be so cruel at your act of kindness. You didn’t know much about him but you did know one thing: Tom Riddle was now your sworn enemy.

This is made extremely evident at his increasing side glare while you two sit together in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not by choice, of course. Assigned seating was never more painful than this moment right here. Still, the most you can do is glare back while everyone silently reads. You open your textbook as a way to distract yourself and flip to the unit you are currently on. Iguanas, iguanas, iguanas. Though you are puzzled as to how they were linked to dark magic, you took down notes anyway. You follow the pattern of dipping your quill in ink and writing line after line. All while you feel the hot glare of Tom’s eyes on the back of your neck. The bell signifying the end of class rings and you take a sigh of relief. Enthusiastically to get out of there, you begin gathering your materials, scooping your textbook in your arms all at once. Tom clears his throat quite obnoxiously enough to gain your attention.

“You miswrote something.” Tom states. You shoot him a dazzled look. “In your notes. I couldn’t help but look at your sorry excuse for parchment paper. It just reeked of misinformation. Sure enough, you wrote down that iguanas were omnivores when they are in fact herbivores.”

“Since when do you care so much about iguanas?” You ask, raising your eyebrow at him. “And why do you even care about what I write in the first place?”

“Well, one, I don’t. And two, I would just rather not be sitting next to the girl who got low marks on the iguanas exam. It would be quite embarrassing to witness.”

“Oh go suck an egg,” You retaliate. Tom Riddle scoffs and leaves without responding to your comment and your best friend, Wendy Slinkhard, replaces him.

You had met Wendy in the Slug Club. She was top of the Ravenclaw class, earning high marks that introduced her into the Slughorn's group. The first thing you noticed about her was the way her doe-eyes lit up every time someone mentioned writing. It was all she ever talked about. Her grand aspiration to become a famous author in the wizarding world. She had quite a euphonious voice when describing her life, casually mentioning the fact that she is indeed muggleborn and unafraid of any criticism. How her entire family is made up of writers and she is thrilled to follow the legacy. She had the most elegant way of describing things you had ever seen, almost like works of poetry roll off her tongue. When you ask how she comes up with these unique words she just responds with, The wizarding world seems to give a great muse to the imagination. Whatever that means, you are unsure, but it seems important enough.

“Well hello there,” Wendy says in her wispy voice. “Seems you have quite a charmer for a partner.” She looks over to Tom Riddle who has just left the room.

“Right.” You reply, getting ready to leave alongside Wendy. “It’s like nails on a chalkboard every time he speaks. I’m telling you, Wendy. You couldn’t bear sitting next to him for an hour.”

“Oh, I am sure of it. I’m not sure if I feel too keen about my partner as well. He is, to put it shortly, not quite attentive. Constantly asking me for notes or an extra quill, it’s quite annoying really! But overall, nothing compared to who you have to deal with. Tom Riddle. I always knew there was something off about that lad. Merlin knows why Professor Slughorn chose him of all pupils for the Slug Club.”

“Well he is exceptional at the Dark Arts, I’ll give him that. He has such a crude way of showing it as well. Constantly showing me up. Making me seem as inferior in knowledge as opposed to himself. A real nightmare.”

“Well, if it means anything to you, nothing good can ever come from being exceptional at the Dark Arts.” Wendy gives a slim smile and nods.

You and Wendy walk alongside each other on your way to your next class. Coincidentally, both of your classes are right next to each other. Though you really do miss having her in the same class. You speak to no one in History of Magic. You just sit alone with your face in your hands, hearing your professor go on and on about some troll war you don’t care too much about. Your quill picks up every once in a while to jot down scribbles of information. Something, something... Troll War. Not the most exciting subject if you were to be honest. But it sure beats suffering another hour with Tom Riddle constantly pointing out every minor flaw in your notes. Something about your professor’s voice sends you into a bit of a drowsy state. The way his words flowed so slowly and sterile. Slowly bringing you closer and closer into a…

“Wow. You look bloody awful.” You jolt awake at the sound of Dahlia Ferdinand looking down on you. She is dressed in her Hufflepuff Quidditch jumper and stands with arms crossed and a smirk spread across her face. You lift your head from the desk and detach a piece of parchment that had stuck on your face.

“How long has class been over?” You ask groggily.

“For about an hour, give or take.”

“She’s joking!” Wendy calls out, running into the room and standing beside Dahlia. She adjusts her giant red glasses and flattens her skirt. “Only a few minutes. No need to be so childish, Dahlia.”

“Oh come on. You never appreciate any of my jokes.”

“Dahlia, you know I hate your immature remarks. They are plain and unfunny.”

Dahlia rolls her eyes. “You must be real fun at parties.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been invited to one.”

“Don’t worry. We can tell.”

You let out a snicker before covering it up with a cough. Wendy, seeing right through you, shoots you a glare before adjusting her glasses once more.

“Speaking of parties…” Dahlia continues, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a green envelope. “Marcella Rosier invited me to the Slytherin common room party tomorrow night. From what I gather it’s going to be a grand event. Her uncle supposedly is bringing in firewhisky from Hog’s Head. Naturally, I expect you two to come with me.”

“Firewhisky, Dahlia?!” Wendy interjects before you can respond. “You know that is very much against the school rules. Not only that but against the law as well. And don’t even get me started on the policy of dorm-hopping in the middle of the night. I don’t even trust that Rosier girl to begin with. I’ve heard a load of terrible things involving her. Why are you even friends with such a person?”

“You know, Wendy, you sound like nails on a chalkboard sometimes. A simple no could do. What about you?” Dahlia responds, now addresses you.

“Oh,” You say suddenly. “Well if you’re going then I guess I’ll go as well.”

“So will I,” Wendy adds on, much to both you and Dahlia’s surprise. “Only to drag Dahlia out and scold her when she gets carried away with the firewhisky which I know she will.”

Wendy and Dahlia glare at each other and you cough. “I promise you, Wendy, that I will keep Dahlia outside range of the firewhisky.”

Wendy nods, satisfied. The three of you go your separate ways. You head straight to your dormitory, ignoring all work assigned for this weekend and your rude encounters with Tom Riddle. You raid your closet and begin the hunt for an acceptable outfit to wear to the biggest party of the semester.

#harry potter #tom riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fic #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle angst #tom riddle x you

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signsandartwork · 15 days

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Exploring the Artistry of Wall Mural Painting in the UK

Unleash the transformative power of wall mural painting in the UK to elevate your living or workspace aesthetics. A burgeoning trend in interior design, wall murals offer a unique opportunity to infuse your environment with creativity and personal expression. From capturing picturesque landscapes to abstract compositions, the possibilities are limitless.

Engage with talented Mural Artists in The UK who specialize in bringing your vision to life, whether it's a whimsical scene for a child's bedroom or a sophisticated backdrop for your office. Not only do these murals serve as captivating focal points, but they also have the ability to enhance the ambiance and mood of any space.

Discover the joy of curated artistry tailored to your preferences and dimensions, breathing new life into your surroundings. With wall mural painting in the UK, you can turn blank walls into captivating masterpieces that inspire and delight. Elevate your interior design with the timeless allure of bespoke wall murals. Visit us to know more.

#mural artist #mural painter london #traditional sign writer #chalkboard sign writer #hand painted sign #sign writing #sign writers london

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tcm · 4 years

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Andy Griffith: An Underrated Movie Star By Susan King

Andy Griffith was one of the greatest actors of the 20th century. He didn’t make the impact of his peers Marlon Brando, James Dean and Paul Newman when they all burst onto the scene in the 1950s, but Griffith demonstrated he was an actor of depth, complexity and, at times, brilliance during his 50-plus year career. His depth is especially on display in his greatest role as Lonesome Rhodes, the odious hard-living, hard-loving Arkansas drifter who becomes a television sensation in Elia Kazan’s A FACE IN THE CROWD (’57).

A dark social commentary about power and the media, A FACE IN THE CROWD is as prescient today as it was 63 years ago. It wasn’t a hit upon release but has grown in reputation over the years. And, it’s head scratching to believe that Griffith wasn’t nominated for a Best Actor Oscar for his performance.

Perhaps he’s not uttered in the same breath as a Brando because Griffith achieved his greatest success on the small screen. He starred as the gentle widower Sheriff Andy Taylor in the beloved 1960-68 sitcom The Andy Griffith Show and as the folksy but brilliant and often cantankerous attorney Ben Matlock in the 1986-95 legal eagle series Matlock. Despite his popular, genial and understated turn as Andy Taylor (who many kids thought was the best father around), Griffith didn’t even earn an Emmy nomination.

Griffith originally wanted to be a singer or a preacher but ended up teaching at a local high school after graduating from college. But the lure of performing was too great, and he left the chalkboard behind to become a comic monologist. And he was funny. Check out his most famous routine, “What It Was, Was Football” from a 1954 The Ed Sullivan Show on YouTube. He’s so believable as the backwoods rube, audiences undoubtedly thought that was Griffith’s real character.

The year of 1955 was life-changing for Griffith. He became an overnight sensation after he was cast in the lead role as the naïve Air Force Private Will Stockdale in the live TV comedy No Time for Sergeants. He’s so mirthful as the good old boy that members of the crew can be heard laughing. Later that year, he made his Broadway debut in the stage version of No Time for Sergeants earning rave reviews and a Tony nomination. It was while he was the toast of Broadway that he was approached by Oscar-winning screenwriter Budd Schulberg (ON THE WATERFRONT, ‘54) about playing Lonesome Rhodes.

Griffith told me in a 2005 L.A. Times interview that Schulberg and his mother came to see the play and soon after Griffith met the writer at a bar. Ironically, Schulberg didn’t think Griffith could handle such a ruthless character. “We were sitting there talking and drinking,” Griffith recalled. “He told me, ‘you can’t play this role.’ I had never read the script or his short story on which it was based at that time, but I just kind of envisioned the character. I said, ‘I can’t provide it to you…but I can play it.’”

Kazan also had his doubts, but quickly changed his mind when Griffith did an impression of evangelist Oral Roberts “healing” the filmmaker. “At that moment, he and Budd could see that I had a little wild side – that is, I can create a wild side. So Gadge [Kazan’s nickname] used that. He used that part of me to find the emotions of evil, the various thousands of moods that this man had.”

Kazan and Schulberg, Griffith noted, “were trying to make the social commentary that the medium and the people who control it can control the thoughts of the country and how dangerous that can be,” Griffith said. The director told Griffith to drink some whiskey for this film’s conclusion when Rhodes is unveiled as a phony and a demagogue. “They brought me a bottle of Jack Daniels Black Label,” he said. “I would shoot a little bit and drink a little bit. I thought I was great. Gadge pulled the plug around 3 o’clock. The next day he said, ‘Andy, we have to shoot most of that over again. Today, just smell the cork!’”

The 1958 film version of NO TIME FOR SERGEANTS and another 1958 service comedy, ONIONHEAD just didn’t work and bombed with both critics and audiences. “I basically struck out in Hollywood,” Griffith told me in 1993. He returned to Broadway, earning another Tony nomination for the musical version of Destry Rides Again. Griffith admitted, though, the show wasn’t very good. So, he decided to do television. The pilot for The Andy Griffith Show, which also starred Ron Howard as his young son Opie, Frances Bavier as Aunt Bee and Don Knotts as the ultra-nervous deputy Barney Fife, aired on the popular The Danny Thomas Show. The show was quickly snapped up by CBS to develop into a series.

Knotts, who won five Emmys as Fife, wasn’t in the pilot. Knotts, who appeared with Griffith in NO TIME FOR SERGEANTS, called him and said, “Don’t you need a deputy?” “I was supposed to have been the comic, the funny one,” said Griffith. “It might not have lasted even half of season that way, but when Don came on, I realized by the second episode, he should be funny, and I should play straight to him. “

Despite the fact the series was the no. 1 show, Griffith wanted to stretch his acting muscles and the series ended in 1968. But Hollywood still didn’t know what to do with him. He signed a three-picture deal with Universal, but the first film ANGEL IN MY POCKET (’69) had a devil of a time trying to find an audience and the critics were not impressed. He struck out again and returned to the small screen. In between series work, TV movies and guest spots, Griffith appeared on the big screen, most notably in the sweet nostalgic comedy HEARTS OF THE WEST (’75) with Jeff Bridges and Alan Arkin.

He finally earned an Emmy nomination in 1981 for the TV movie MURDER IN TEXAS, in which he got the opportunity to show his dramatic chops as a wealthy Texan who thinks his daughter’s new husband isn’t exactly who he appears to be. His turn in Matlock gave him a renewed popularity. Griffith was doing guest spot on TV and had just released a hymns and spirituals CD when I interviewed him in 2005. Two years later, Griffith was perfectly cast in WAITRESS (2007) as Joe, the elderly and curmudgeonly owner of a small café who had a generous and kind heart. The role fit him like a comfortable glove.

Baby boomers felt they had lost a big part of their childhood when Griffith died in 2012 at the age of 86. Ron Howard summed up what so many of his fans were feeling: “His pursuit of excellence and the joy he took in creating served generations and shaped my life. I’m forever grateful. RIP Andy.”

#Andy Griffith #Sherriff andy #Matlock #A Face in the Crowd #Budd Schulberg #classic actor #old hollywood #TCM #Turner Classic Movies #Susan King

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easyrevenge · 3 years

Text

shinkami drabble

word count : 1.6k

ship: shinsou hitoshi / kaminari denki

rated: t

summary: denki has a crush on shinsou who works across the street at the second-hand music shop.

(ive never written shinkami before & i’ve been having writers block so i wrote this based on true events for warm-up.)

Kaminari is pretty sure he might die.

“You’re being so dramatic,” Mina tells him. And yeah, he is, but that hardly changes the fact that he’s starving. Not to death but it’s significant. He forgot to eat breakfast and wasn’t even on the schedule to work today. He’s just a good employee, and friend, or whatever. Denki thinks Mina could at least be a little more--”But, someone did leave their Café Luna bag behind about an hour ago. See what’s in it.”

Denki loves her. “Café Luna? That place is expensive!” And delicious, so he’s heard. The restaurant opened a few weeks ago down the block and since then the line has been wrapped around the corner.

He hurries to the back of their shop and rummages through the mini-refrigerator that definitely should have been cleaned out at least three weeks ago. Past some questionable yogurt cups, he finds what he’s looking for.

Denki only spends a solid five seconds debating the morality of the situation--is it rude to eat someone’s untouched food? What if they come back for it? But it’s a short-lived consideration, especially once he sees what’s inside; a small clear container with what a fancy as fuck sandwich—“It’s been an hour, surely they would have come back by now…” he reasons. Most importantly, as well as the deciding factor, “Oh hell yes!” A huge, insanely thick double chocolate chip cookie. “Sorry not sorry, loser.” Who the hell could leave any of this behind?

The sandwich is obliterated within minutes. Then Denki, because he is a good friend and model employee, brings the cookie back out to the front and offers some to Mina.

“You’re sweet, Denks,” she says, patting his shoulder. Then she laughs, “But it looks like you might cry if I say yes and you're forced to actually share.”

Denki really, really loves her.

He’s half-way through the cookie, propped up on the counter and munching away while Mina does all the clean up tasks that he’s excused from today for coming in. This is their usual slow hour anyway, not a customer in sight. Easy money.

“So, I forgot to tell you that your walking wet-dream came by earlier.”

Denki almost chokes on his cookie. “What! When? What was he wearing?”

Mina smiles as she wipes the counters down. “I was swamped so I didn’t get a good look. He was in and out pretty quick.”

Denki leans back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment to revel in a quick day dream. One where he’s smooth and clever, manages to get his number, then maybe a date, a blow job, a boyfriend, a decent, regularly scheduled lay. He’d take that in any order, really.

Denki’s never actually talked to the guy but he does know his name is Shinsou thanks to a very tactful phone call by Mina. He works at the secondhand music store across the street and one morning while opening shop they made eye contact across the asphalt. Denki had been sweeping while the other was writing a music lesson schedule on a chalkboard menu. It was anticlimactic, lasting no more than three seconds, but Denki never stops thinking about it.

Shinsou is intimidating in the way that most pretty people are. He looks mean, disinterested. It pulls Denki in unquestionably, especially because he always smiles (full teeth) whenever he spots Shinsou through the window and rarely gets anything back except the highly coveted lifted eyebrow. Denki’s favorite thing about him is his eyes, dark and liquidy.

Denki also cares a lot about fashion and Shinsou’s clothes are the brand of cool that is obviously effortless, all black. His messy purple hair is usually pushed back with one of those cheap, zigzag plastic hair combs that were popular in the 90s.

Shinsou is aggressively hot, it’s almost offensive. Denki isn’t sure if he has a league but Shinsou is out of everyone’s.

“I can’t believe he actually came in. What did he order?”

Mina shrugs, “He just bought bottled water but he did spend a minute staring at your freaky art.”

“Oh my god,” Denki flushes pink with excitement and disbelief. He doesn’t exactly call himself an artist but he does fuck around a lot in his small studio and paint weird, neon colored, warped looking Pokémon-monster hybrids. Mina let’s him display them around her fruit shop because she’s a good friend.

A customer comes in and Denki continues to lounge on the counter, still daydreaming of purple hues and picking at the cookie while Mina makes a smoothie that has far too many vegetables.

“Hey Denks,” Mina says after the customer has left with their inevitable bowel movement in a cup. She sounds weird. He looks over and she’s smiling like the Cheshire Cat. He knows he’s fucked. “We’re best friends and I’m your boss, so you’re obligated to forgive me.”

Denki’s heart is squeezing tight and he stares wide eyed. “What did you do?”

Mina turns to look out through the front windows where Shinsou is currently looking left, then right, before doing a half-jog across the street. She hurriedly looks back at Denki, “I forgot to tell you the Café Luna bag was Shinsou’s and now it looks like he’s coming back for it and I’m going to go on my break now, bye.” She says the last part in one breath while the door opens and the little bell on top rings.

Shinsou walks in and all the air is pulled from Denki’s lungs.

Denki doesn’t have time to think, just react. He practically throws himself off the counter and—again, not thinking because who has time for that when someone that good-looking is walking your way—does the only thing he can think of to dispose of the evidence.

He shoves the rest of the cookie into his mouth. It’s a big fucking cookie, even with only half of it left.

He never should have come into work today.

The chime of the door tinkers again when it closes and Denki knows he has about 3.5 seconds before Shinsou reaches the front counter. He chews vigorously, practically suffocating on cookie crumbs and chocolate chips, but it’s all just turned to paste in his mouth and there’s no hope.

Then, he starts to choke.

“Should I call emergency services or just let you die.” It hardly sounds like a question and if it is, Shinsou is asking himself.

Denki sputters, standing up from his half-crouch in an attempt to hold on to an ounce of his dignity. But it’s all lost when they make eye contact and Denki knows there’s nothing he can do, so he just holds up a finger to say hold on before spinning around and grabbing the small trash bin under the sink.

He spits the cookie mush into the bin, eyes watering while he coughs the dust out of his lungs, and prays that death comes swiftly in the next few seconds.

Denki hates Mina. So, so much.

Catching his breath, Denki leans forward over the sink and runs the water. He wonders if he should fill it up and drown himself but opts for rinsing his face instead. The eyes boring holes into his back are unrelenting and vicious. He turns around and regrets being born.

Shinsou is way too goddamn pretty. His eyes drink Denki in, full of judgement and unabashed intensity before blinking back into nonchalance. “He lives.”

Denki can’t help it, he laughs. It’s loud and a bit wet because he hasn’t wiped off his face. What a mess. “Unfortunately.”

Shinsou doesn’t allow for any awkward silences though, just moves the conversation forward with ease. Denki barely has time to feel embarrassed but he knows he’s blushing deeper with every millisecond that ticks by.

“I left my lunch here earlier, I think. A bag from Café Luna.”

Denki considers lying because surely that would be the easiest route. He attempts to wipe his face off with the inner elbow of his sweater, nervous. “Oh—uh, I don’t…”

Shinsou holds up a long, slender finger. Denki wonders what instruments he plays. Maybe he should sign up for one of his lessons, give himself a second-chance to make a good impression. Erase this one from existence.

He shakes his head, explaining, “You have chocolate smeared on your chin.” An obvious accusation. Denki is so fucked.

He sighs. “The cookie looked way too good, dude.” It feels good to confess, at least. “I’m sorry,” Denki apologizes, eyes downcast as he pulls at the hem of his sweater.

“Are you,” Shinsou replies and Denki wants to run out the door but then something happens. Shinsou laughs. It’s a quiet sound, breathy and warm and deep. Denki looks up and smiles brightly because wow, that sounds like music. “I don’t think you are.”

Denki catches something like a smile on the corner of Shinsou’s mouth and it gives him some of his confidence back. Just enough. “Yeaaaah,” he breathes, grinning sheepishly. “It was really tasty so maybe not that sorry.”

“Sorry you got caught.”

“Definitely.”

“A true criminal.” Shinsou nods, something like approval. Then he pulls out his phone to check the time. Denki is already disappointed this interaction is ever going to end, despite his embarrassment.

“I’ll have the sandwich back at least, I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break. I’m starving.”

No, yeah, Denki is going to fucking murder Mina. He’ll be an actual criminal.

Denki knows his silence is telling but there’s no cool way to talk himself out of this. Instead he puts on his best pouty smile and apologetic eyes. Shinsou looks so unimpressed until he doesn’t, just annoyed.

He clicks his tongue, sucking air through his teeth like a disappointed parent. “I’m off in three hours.”

Denki pulls a face. “Oh-kay.”

Shinsou looks like he wants to roll his eyes. Denki feels hot all over, degraded even though he hasn’t been called any names or chastised.

The silence makes Denki itchy so he breaks it with a fountain of apologies and offers to pay him back. “Do you have Venmo? Just charge me the cost! My username is 69Pika—”

“Please, stop.”

“Okay.”

Shinsou knocks his knuckles on the counter, looking him over once more before taking a few steps back. Another customer comes in and the bell tinkers twice, open, then close.

They watch each other for a moment.

“If you’re off in time, you’re buying dinner after my shift. I’ll meet you outside the shop.” Then Shinsou turns and leaves and Denki just smiles because what the fuck else was he supposed to do.

God, he loves Mina.

#shinkami #kamishin #denki x shinsou #bnha

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ourwrittenstories-arch · 3 years

Text

○○Blog info~~

Info on my rules and muses for mobile under the read more

Side blog to @somexofusxarexhuman < Canon Stiles RP

Please remember this is an RP blog and not an Art blog, to see my art follow me here on twitter >>> ***CLICK***

My open starters > CLICK <

Anyone can reply, please don't let reblog amount scare you!

Rules::

Rule one

Please be patient with me. I’m either stupid fast at replying or I take a few days. If it seems I’ve forgotten you, though, send me an IM

Rule Two

That being said I will reply when I feel like. I will always tell you if I need to drop a thread, if I take long it doesn’t mean I’ve dropped it. If you need to drop it because I’m taking too long, let me know. I promise not to be mad.

Rule Three

I will not RP with anyone under the age of 18, even if the thread has no smut. I’m sorry, but no. This is an adult oriented blog. Heavy themes, along with smut, will be regularly posted in rp formal and/or in images.

Rule Four

I will not RP with anime/cartoon/game FC’s (There are exceptions like RE8 chars). I will also not RP with any deceased FC’s

Rule Five

As awesome as it would be to be bilingual, I only speak and know English. Anything you see me post that is not English was brought to you by Google Translate.

Rule Six

I do not have a verse page, but that doesn’t mean I’m not open to AU’s. I LOVE AU’s. I’m a multi-ship multi-post blog and am trash for any and all AU’s. Just ask!

Rule Seven

I can write a lot in my replies (And a lot of it can be unnecessary detail) but don't feel pressured to match my length! Just, please, try to give me something more than two sentences to work with. I don't typically enjoy writing short replies, but I understand muses can be fickle things.

Rule Eight

I don't enjoy pregnancy threads or writing children so I, typically, will steer clear of those types of threads. If our muses have been in a long relationship (and we have been writing partners for a while as well) I may make an exception, but don't come in expecting babies. My girls all have IUD's unless stated otherwise. That being said I am 100% down with the breeding kink.

Rule Nine

If a muse has (unknown) somewhere in their age it means they are old old. Like 100+, so age can be changed if you are uncomfortable with age gap.

Rule Ten

I have a handful of chronic issues that effect my sleep and my mood so I'm up all hours of the day. I live in EST time zone, but I'm often up at 4AM so.....it's a gamble lol!

Rule Eleven

I have SEVERE ANXIETY and struggle messaging new people. IF I FOLLOWED YOU I WANT TO RP WITH YOU! I'm probably just figuring out how to message you without puking lol. I would appreciate the help, if you want, or you can wait until I gather the enrve.

Rule Twelve

My grammar isn't the best in the galaxy, ok? I over use comma's and never really figured out the semi-colon. If something is horribly wrong or you can't understand what I've written, just ask please.

Rule Thirteen

I will tag major triggers (ie; Snakes, Spiders etc) but I won't tag smut or NSFW unless it really needs it.

Rule Fourteen

If I have ever posted a meme please feel free to send one in even if it was a year ago! With that in mind, I do prefer introduction threads with new muns/characters if I am not familiar with them.

Rule Fifteen

Don't like my starters

Rule Sixteen

Don't God-Mod blah blah and Follow TOS k I love you <3 <3

Muses:

Girls:

Inessa Morea

Nicknames: Nessy, Nessa, Ness Age: Unknwon (25) DoB: May 11th Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Forest) Sexual Orientation: Bi-Curious Position: Sub (Potentially verse) Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: Flourist Personality: Sweet, Curious, Oblivious, Playful, Innocent, Devious Face Claim: Candice King ○

Cassia Poole-

Nicknames: Cass, Cassy Age: Unknown (19-24) DoB: November 3rd Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Water(mermaid)) Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Sub Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: Student (Robotics and Marine bio-tech)/ Swim coach Personality:Innocent, Nerdy, Hyperactive, Bratty, Playful, Lame Face Claim: Jane Levy ○

Amara Nyx

Nicknames: Marr Age: Unknown (32) DoB: Oct 13th Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Underworld) Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: None/ Sugar baby Personality: Smart ass, Rude, Bitchy, Judgmental, Hateful, Possessive, Affectionate Face Claim: Elizabeth Gillies ○

Laleh Narvaez

Nicknames: Lala Age: 25(600) DoB: Sept 4th Pronouns: She/Her Species:Lamia/Naga Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: Argentina Occupation: Dancer/Jack of all Trades for Freak Show/Snake Charmer(Circus) Personality:Sharp, Sultry, Flirtatious, Seductive, Venomous Face Claim: Eiza Gonzalez ○

Samira Eve

Nickname: Sam, Sammy, Mira Age: (Unknown) 20-23 DoB: June 2nd Pronouns: She/Her Species: Air Nymph Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Verse Romantic Orientation: Panromantic Hometown: Boston Occupation: Thief/Courier Personality: Sarcastic, Smooth, Sassy, Flighty, Unreliable, Persuasive, troublemaker FC: Elisha Applebaum

○

Maybelline New-York

Nicknames: May Age: 28 DoB:Sep 17 Pronouns: She/Her Species: Zombie Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Sub Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New Orleans Occupation: None Personality: Shy, Angry, Mute, Hungry, Sassy" Bio: Maybelline has no memory of her life before she had been murdered at the age of 23. Hell, she's not even certain that's her age. Her name came from reading a magazine ad when asked who she was after walking into morgue. Zombies had been a small pest problem for a while now, usually obvious in their appearance and traits, but something inside of May kept her from fully succumbing to the sickness. All she felt was hunger and, after begging the mortician to, promptly sewed her mouth shut and clipped her nails. Now she speaks in sign or with a chalkboard she carries around to communicate. After weeks of study, it was discovered that Maybelline had a tumor that had taken over the majority of her brain, blocking the strain from traveling and taking her over. Face Claim: Camila Mendes ○

Juniper Lee

Nicknames: June, Junie Age:29 DoB: Feb 16th Pronouns: She/Her Species:Witch Sexual Orientation: Straight Position: Submissive Romantic Orientation: Straight Hometown: Seoul until 5 then Massachusetts Occupation:Herbalist/Illusionist Personality:Soft spoken, Kind, Intelligent, Playful, Self Concious, Delicate, unsure Face Claim: Jamie Chung ○

Barabelle Gunn

Nicknames: Belle, Belly, Bara Age:27 DoB: May 28th Pronouns: She/Her Species: Human Sexual Orientation: Straight Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Straight Hometown: Killin Scottland Occupation: Hunter (supernatural) / Mercenary Personality: Brash, Rude, Sarcastic, Bull Headed, Loyal, Protective Face Claim: Karen Gillan AU Verses- Resident Evil 8 Verse ○ Leora Brandr Nicknames: Leo Age: Unknown (26) DoB: Dec 21st Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Fire) Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: Queens Occupation: Pilot/ Glass Blower Personality: Gentle, Kind, Shy, Short-Fused, Fiery, Passionate Face Claim: Daisy Ridley

Boys:

Carlyle Abrams

Nicknames: Lyle Age:32 DoB: April 16th Pronouns: He/Him Species:Human Sexual Orientation: Straight Position: Top/Dominant Romantic Orientation: Straight Hometown: London Occupation: Private Investigator Personality: Charming,Calm, Kind, Playful, Posessive, Warm Face Claim: Adam Driver ○

Maxwell Ardeleane Nicknames: Max Age: Unknown (31) DoB: January 8th Pronouns: He/Him Species: Elder Vampire Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Top/Dominant Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: Bucharest Romania Occupation: Mob Boss Personality: Charming, Polite, Sarcastic,Dark, Cruel, Posessive." Face Claim: Tyler Hoechlin ○ Syrian Nyx

Nicknames: Syrian Age: Unknown(34) DoB: Oct 13th Pronouns: He/Him Species: Nymph (Underworld) (Alpha) Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Top/Dominant Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: Bank CEO Personality:Charming, Egotistical, Posessive, Rude, Dark Humor Face Claim: Oliver Jackson-Cohen ○ Esben Hvit

Nicknames: Esben, Ben, Es Age: 27 DoB: Oct 20 Pronouns: He/Him Species: Were-Raven (Albino) Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Vesatile Romantic Orientation: Biromantic Hometown:Seattle Occupation: Famous Writer(Penned under Raven White) Personality:Cocky, Quiet, Shy, Rude, Snarky, Intelligent Face Claim: Lucky Blue Smith ○

Carter Higgins

Nicknames: Carter, Car Age: 24 DoB: June 12 Pronouns: He/Him Species: Human Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Vesatile Romantic Orientation: Biromantic Hometown: Nashville Tenn Occupation: Street/Bar Musician Personality:Sweet, Friendly, Romantic, Goofy, Playful Face Claim: Cody Christian

----

Canon characters:

Peter Hale: Teen Wolf

Chris Argent: Teen Wolf

Tags:

#selfie;(name) - Photo’s of characters

(name)Starter- Starter for specific character

#wanted opposite - Wanted partner or character to rp with

more TBA

#Muses #Rules;;#1x1 rp #indie rp #smut rp #18+rp #independent rp #oc rp #canon rp #looking for partners #self promo #psa #mun things #discord friendly

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nvalentino · 4 years

Text

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 {𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬} • 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐨

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is my way of putting the story of two against the world into my own style and fixing things that bug me about the game. This is in no way meant to diminish the writer’s work, but everyone has different taste.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k+

Movies have always been my escape. A way to distance me from a crumbling economy and stressful days at work- something simple. There’s nothing quite like mindlessly inhaling popcorn in the dark, alone with no one to judge you. All the while staring at an enormous silver screen for two hours straight. I love that it’s a world away from my own.

My town’s movie theatre isn’t much, but she’s got character. Sat on the corner two run-down cross streets, her paint- peeled walls crawling with thick vines and the crooked marquee sign whose lights don’t work has almost become a second home. So when I heard she was hosting an all-night crime movie marathon, I’ve never bought a ticket faster in my life.

When I show up to the theatre, there’s a line wrapped around the block and they’re all dressed as mobsters, Femme Fatales, wise guys... these are my people. I look up at the marquee, which reads: ‘FILM MARATHON: ALL NIGHT GANGSTERS.’

My heart nearly jumps from my chest. I’d been waiting all week for this, for my break. I finally reach the front of the line, and I’m greeted by Murray, the owner of the place. I think he’s been hunched behind that ticket booth since Bogart ruled the box office.

“What’s a looker like yourself doing here alone on a Friday evening?” It’s always the same. No matter how many times it seems I show up in his lobby- Murray always forgets me. It’s lovely to know I’m so memorable.

“Are you ever alone when you have the characters on screen?” I keep my tone light and teasing. Can’t be cruel to Murray- bit like roundhouse kicking a puppy.

“You look familiar, you a regular here?” Ah, there it is. Scratch my previous statement, I’m at least a little important. Guess all those hours spent in front of him’s paying off.

“That I am.” I rest an arm on the counter, an even smile on my face. Murray leans closer, getting a better look at me. I’m all too used to all his antics by now, and smiling is the easiest way to get alone.

“And your name is?” Can’t have everything in life, I suppose, and, as lovable as he is, he hasn’t been all there for the better part of a decade.

“Murray, it’s me, {Y/N}.”

“Oh, right,” he smiles, straightening back to look me over. “Why didn’t you say so? You know my eyes ain’t what they used to be.” I have to hold back a laugh, but it’s easily covered with a large grin. “I didn’t take you for a fan of gangster movies.”

This time, an amused scoff passes my lips. Resting my hip against the counter I feign an offended look, “It’s like you don’t even know me anymore, Murray. I love gangster movies.”

“So do I, kid. The slick-talking, the high drama, the whirlwind romances.” A wistful look crosses his eyes, like that of a family member flicking through family photo albums reminiscing about the old days- then his face clears up. “Speaking of romance, where’s your date?”

Talk about beating a dead horse. I nearly always turn up alone to the movies- no matter how much I’d like to have someone to bring. But I come the same way each time- all by myself. “I just told you. I fly solo. I don’t need a wingman. Besides, why bring a date when you have the company of the beautiful people on the big screen.”

A look of concern washes over Murray’s face- something much unlike anything I’ve seen on him before like he was deep in thought. “Fair enough. A movie star will be your date tonight, then.”

“Exactly,” I laugh. “Now, can you let me in?”

“Can you show me your ticket?”

I reach into my pocket, eager to get inside so I can buy a box of popcorn and soda. But my pocket’s empty. Oh, god no. I reach into my other pocket. And to my absolute shock, there’s nothing inside but lint and a cracked phone. Instantaneously, I’m checking everywhere: coat pockets, shirt pockets, back pockets- each and every one of them like the last: empty. My heart sinks- I lost the ticket. Only me. I nervously read my surroundings. A line of impatient movie-goers behind me, an elderly ticket-take in front of me, and a sign in big bold letters that hangs above him. Tonight’s showing: Sold Out.

“Your ticket, please?”

“Oh, god, Murray- I-I can’t find it,” my hands glide over every pocket again- desperately trying to find some trace of the ticket.

I feel a lump burning in my throat and a wet gloss beginning to coat my eyes. If losing my ticket wasn’t bad enough- feeling the burning stares of the long line behind me is tipping my scale. “I’m sorry, dear. I’m not sure what I can do. We’re all sold out.”

My eyes fall to my feet as murmurs sound from behind me, doing my best to hold back the disappointment and embarrassment boiling over. “Right. My fault.” My cheeks feel hot, my entire body’s burning. I can’t believe it. A week’s worth on excitement drained out of me in a matter of seconds.

Just as I take a step away from the counter- Murray calls my name. “Hold on. Maybe there’s something I can do.” I turn around, and Murray looks at me with a sceptic’s eye. “You really want a date with a movie star tonight, do you?”

“Yes. Please, I can’t tell you how long I’ve been looking forward to this.” My pride’s the last thing on my mind, focusing solely on pleading with the man in front of me.

He reads my expression, seeming to gaze straight through me, and then he straightens out his vest. “You’re positive?”

“Murray, I’ve never been more positive about anything in my life.” Okay, drama queen- dial it back a bit.

“Very well.”

“One of my customers cancelled their reservation last minute. And they were very important. From Hollywood. You can take their place if you’d like.” And with those words, my face is overtaken with joy.

“Wow, Murray, thank you so much.”

Murray retrieves a golden ticket stub from the booth, and it sparkles underneath the glow of the marquee. He rips the stub in two and hands me the other end. Something in his eyes sparkles like he knows something that I don’t. “Choose your adventure wisely, kid. It’s almost showtime.”

For a moment, I’m captivated by the ticket- the grumbling line behind me forgotten. Admit One has never felt so... special. I stride past Murray, toward the doors to the lobby, the sweet smell of salted buttered popcorn pulling me inside.

But when I waltz inside, everything about the rundown movie theatre is different. The sticky floors have been replaced by slick velvet carpeting. A grand staircase sits where the pinball machine used to be. Thick red curtains have replaced the shredded B-Movie posters. And the people around me are dressed like they’re from a ball in the 1920′s. This room alone could buy all the places I’ve ever lived. This isn’t my theatre. The dimensions aren’t even correct. I’m either hallucinating or this is all a dream. Either way, I’m spooked. I’ve got to get out of here.

I pivot back to the door and yank at the handle. But it won’t budge. I can feel my heart bursting from my chest. Everything feels so real- there’s no way I’m dreaming. I wrap both hands around the handle this time, clutching the ironclad door. But it’s completely seals shut. Okay. Don’t Panic. There has to be an explanation. For why... for how... for how I’ve been magically transported to a movie palace from the early twentieth century. Just hearing myself think that makes me light-headed. This can’t be real.

I turn around once again, and in my delirium, I see a sharply dressed man eyeing me from amongst the crowd. His angelic smile looks like it’s worth a million bucks, and his eyes are like none I’ve ever seen in person. The colour of honeyed whiskey and unbelievably sharp. This only happens in the movies. He only exists in the movies. One of the crime flicks about the Roaring Twenties. But I can’t place exactly which one. With a sly wink, he confidently turns away from me and moves through the crowd.

Intrigued, and left with little other options, I follow him. But he’s elusive. I walk faster, but the faster I walk- the further away he seems to be. He reaches for an expansive, gold-plated door. And before I can even call out to him, he’s on the other side of it. Oh, come on.

I hurry my pace, clumsily weaving my way between the other guests until I reach the door myself. Without so much as a thought, I pull the door open and step into a buzzing room packed with boozy patrons dancing to the boisterous symphonies of Broadway jazz. I watch in amazement as women in sequin flapper dresses do the Charleston with men suited up in black tuxedos. Unless I’m mistaken, I’d say I’ve just stepped foot in a rowdy speakeasy from the jazz age.

Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. I pinch myself. Ouch. Not dreaming. I turn my attention to the crowded bar, its customers getting tipsy on saccharine highballs. If there’s one thing I need right now, it’s a glass of something strong. I move swiftly to the stool studded counter.

“What’ll it be?” The bartender, a bow-tie clad man whose greying hair is slicked back from his forehead, asks.

“Oh- uh, what are my options?” He points to a chalkboard behind him, which has the names of several drinks etched into its surface. Fuck. I should’ve paid more attention to the drinks featured in all the movies I watch because I have no idea what any of these mean.

“She’ll have a Gin Rickey with a dash of syrup.” The words come from behind me, saving my breath. “And I’ll be having an Old Fashioned, old-timer.”

The mystery man pulls a glistening silver case from his jacket pocket as the bartender begins synthesizing our drinks. He flips open the case revealing a handful of perfectly rolled cigarettes inside. How do you talk to a man from an entire century ago? Especially one so... gorgeous. Don’t reference memes. Easier said than done.

“Care for a smoke?” He flashes that five-star smile at me again as he retrieves a matchbook from his coat. I shake my head- mind racing. Don’t mess up, don’t mess up, down mess up...

“Where am I?” Way to go- not crazy at all. Definitely, something a completely normal and functioning human being would ask.

“You don’t know where you are?”

You’ve fucked up- own it, but try and keep your stupid contained. You’re supposed to be wooing him- not scaring him off. “Not exactly.”

The man ignites a match, the flicker of a flame painting his face in moving shadows as he lights the cigarette. He returns his silver case and the matchbook to his jacket pocket. “You tell me your name and I’ll tell you where you are.”

“{Y/N}.” So far so good. My mind is still reeling- eyes combing over every inch of the room- trying to find a sign, anything, to prove that this is all real. “I’m dreaming. Aren’t I?” The sudden sensation of being spun around takes over my body.

“If this is a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up.” I feel my cheeks warm at the words, at least one of us is articulated. “The names Nicky. Nicky Valentino.” Nicky brings my wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of my hand. I swear I can feel my soul departing

“Charming as you may be, I’m not from here-” my already jumbled sentence gets interrupted by the bartender. He places the candied, kaleidoscopic drinks before us. Nicky slips the man two bills, then looks at me with those mischievous hazel eyes.

“Cheers.”

I hesitatingly clink my glass with his and place the cold drink to my bottom lip. I take one sip and my mouth contorts with the overwhelming taste of tart. “Right- so as I was saying.” My tongue feels dry, tight as I glance around the room once more. Think, think.

“Doesn’t take a wisehead to know you ain’t from New York.” Even with my own tense posture, all his words hold a lilt of teasing.

“Yeah. But I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.” What do you even say? ‘Hey, I’m not just out of state, I’m out of century.’ I don’t know how that’d go over, but I’m imagining not well.

“Of course you’re supposed to be here,” it’s a good thing I’m not standing because the look on his face is enough to buckle my knees. “You’re the person of my dreams, and this is my dream, right?” His honeyed and soft words do loosen my shoulders- but I can’t help my tangled mind.

“Okay. How can I explain this... I’m not even from your...” Right words, right words. “Your... dimension” Could be better.

“So, like from upstate?” I have to hold back a scoff- he’s a total dork. Nicky coyly grins to himself, expression morphing into one I’ve only ever seen on a silver screen. “Can you pinch me? ‘Cause now I know I’m dreamin’.“

The tightness in my shoulders dissipates as I laugh at the remark. If there’s one thing he’s exceptional at- it’s being annoyingly charismatic. “I’m still not sure I can explain this right. Do you like going to the movies?”

“Yeah. I like the ones about wise guys, car chases, and the ride or die sidekicks.” Fitting.

“W-well... it’s- it’s... it’s like everything became a... a movie for me.” How in the world do you word this? “You’re like a-”

“A movie star?” I nod, and he considers this like it isn’t the slightest bit absurd. He exhales a thin stream of smoke from his lips then chases it with a sip of the Old Fashioned. “Listen, if it’s a movie, you gotta know some things. This movie is fast, it’s dangerous. Until about five minutes ago, all I wanted was the entire world and I wanted it all to myself.”

“And now?”

“Now I still want the world. But I want it for two.” Between the alcohol and the compliments, my head is spinning in the best way possible. Nicky was right: if this is a dream, then keep the damn lights off.

“That’s very poetic of you, F. Scott.” Everything about him is magnetic, drawing me closer with each word. I can’t help myself but lean in.

“You forgot my name already? It’s Nicky.”

Lord, he’s definitely a dork. “No it’s- never mind.” Nicky places his hand into the pocket inside his coat and pulls out a thin black jewellery case.

“I want you to have something.” He cracks open the case, and inside sits a breathtaking diamond bracelet with enough shimmering carats to blind me. It’s excessive. It’s perfect.

“Nicky, what is this?” I train my eyes on him, trying my best to get a read on him, but he’s impossible.

“Do me a favour. Just try it on.”

“I can’t... I’ve only just met you. And-”

My argument is cut short with a raise of his eyebrows, “I’m a movie star, right? So why not play the part. You can’t take it off soon as you finish your drink.” I let my eyes fall back to the case, combing over the bracelet.

“I may never finish my drink.” The words tumble past my lips with little thought- nearly catching myself off guard with the brashness.

“I’m counting on it.” I watch as Nicky removes the bracelet from the case, fingertips brushing my skin as he cuffs it delicately around my wrist.

“So, what’s your game, Nicky?”

“My game?” He seems confused by the inquiry, but I can’t think of a reasonable time someone would fork over something so expensive to a total stranger.

“Yeah. What do you want from me?” Nicky stares at the strand of diamonds that fits perfectly around my wrist. I suddenly feel off- like I’d overstepped an unspoken boundary. “It’s a fair question considering five minutes after meeting me you’re giving me diamonds. Usually, guys wait to the third date for that.”

“I’m setting my price.”

“Your price?” Baffled by the words, my eyebrows knit together, “your price for what?”

“Leaving it all behind.” Shoulders dripping, I scan over his face. He’s just as unreadable as before. What does it mean? Leaving it all behind. Nicky only offers a warm smile, like he can read mind and in his eyes, I catch a glint of sincerity behind the bravado. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have somewhere to be.”

“You’re kidding?” I scoff.

“We’ll be in touch. I guarantee it.” I can’t even protest, Nicky gets up from his stool and walks away.

“No, Nicky- you’re not- you can’t leave me with this bracelet!” My protest is futile, falling to deaf ears. He’s already a third the way to a far door. “Nicky!” But he either can’t hear me or doesn’t want to hear me. “Damn it!” Once again, Nicky eludes me as he finesses his way between guys and dames.

This time, I’m not letting him get away from me. I leap out of my seat, and the barstool nearly crashes to the floor as I hurry after him. I knock into a couple in the throes of a drunken kiss, interrupting what would have been a perfect moment. I collect my footing and peer ahead. Nicky is more than halfway now.

I’m a foot from the couple before a hand circles my wrist, spinning me on my heel to find a man already a few drinks deep. “Where you goin’, sugar?” His breath reeks.

“I-I... gotta,” his fingers are curled into the bracelet. “Let me...” I wrench myself free from him, stumbling back into another drunken couple standing behind me, “go.”

As Nicky’s hand wraps around the door handle, I take off, leaving the man and couples in my rearview. Just as I get within spitting distance, he pushes the door open. I reach out for him, grabbing a hold of his wrist before he can take another step. Feeling my grip, Nicky spins around to face me. The door slams shut behind him. A brash grin enveloping his face.

“You’ve done good, kid.”

“What do you mean? Was this some kind of test?”

“If it was, how do you think you did?”

“I’m not sure the type of person who wants to test me is the kind of person I want to be around.” Nicky lays his eyes on my hand, which is still tightly gripping his wrist.

“You sure about that, toots?” Instantly, my skin goes hot from embarrassment. I quickly retract my hand from his. He’s so frustratingly sauve.

“I’m- I’m sure.”

“Hold on, I didn’t say you should let go.”

“You didn’t need to.” Nicky inches closer to me, interlocking his fingers with mine.

“{Y/N}, I was only teasing. I don’t want you to let go.” He grasps my hand as if letting go would mean he’d lose a part of himself, a lifeline. “In my world, the less people you keep close, the less chance you have at getting hurt. But... you’re not from my world, right? So maybe there’s room for an exception.”

I squeeze his hand tighter, our hands clasped together in an unspoken devotion. I look up into Nicky’s eager eyes, and then at his lips before asking, “you want me to be your exception?”

“That’s right.” Nicky lets go of my hand and turns away from me. “Follow me.” He pushes the door open, enthusiastically walking into another sizable group of strangers outside. As I follow Nicky out of the room, he’s gone from sight. And so is everyone else.

I’m back in the movie theatre lobby- my movie theatre. The place is completely empty, and an eerie quiet has set over the room. I pace a few steps until I’m smack dab in the centre of the room. And now that I’m back to my world, I’m already longing for the adventure promised by the other. And my hand’s feeling awfully empty. So is my wrist. The bracelet. Fuck. I’ve had the damn thing for forty seconds and it’s already been nicked.

“Is someone going to explain all this to me? What the hell is going on?” Then, a hand taps me on the shoulder. “Whoa!” I yelp, startled at the other presence in the room. “Murray! Jesus, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“What’d ya think, kid?”

“The movie. What’d ya think about my movie?”

“Murray! You knew about all- all this?”

“I know what goes on in my theatre.” Murray momentarily looks down and polishes a brass button on his coat. “I’ve been showing movies for the better part of my life, and I know when I see a movie star. You, my friend, are a movie star. The question is: are you ready for your close-up?”

“What... what do you mean?” Everything is hitting me at once. That really wasn’t a dream.

Murray inhales with pride as he observes his theatre. “There are many theatres in this joint, all playing crime films from the great American eras. You’ve been fortunate enough to see the trailer for one, but did it suit you?” He places a hand on my shoulder, and we walk to the entrance of the first theatre. “Is the ostentatious world of Gatsby’s New York, of raucous speakeasies and illegal rum-running in the roaring twenties your adventure?”

He turns to look at me, kind eyes shining with expectancy. My heart rate jumps at the question, giddy for the prospect of adventure but anxious for the consequences. No movie is perfect. “I can just... be a part of it?”

“For now.”

“What about this world? The real world?”

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to escape. Besides, who’s to say what’s real and what’s not.” Murray smiled a wistful and weathered smile. Like what I pictured a clock would smile, full of known and unknown. “What’d you say, kid?”

He’s right, I’d be fooling myself if I said otherwise. I want this- I think I’ve always wanted something like this. With a calming breath and a final look around the theatre, I nod. “Yes.”

“Very good, your co-stars are waiting inside.” Murray steps aside, gesturing to the door. “Enter whenever you feel ready.”

“No time like the present.” I take another deep gulp of air, trying to silence my screaming heart rate. I’m not dreaming. This is real.

“But remember, this is a cinema: once the movie begins, there’s no rewind button.” Thanks, no pressure. I’m nervous, to say the least- but this is what I’m supposed to be doing. I proceed into the movie theatre entrance, its double doors awaiting my arrival. I push open the doors and walk into my starring role.

Lights. Camera. Action. Two Against the World.

#fictif #two against the world #nicky valentino #fictif nicky #fictif two against the world #nicky valentino x mc #nicky valentino x reader

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