I'm coping and seething over the new cannon human VY2 design

Half of US Adults Say “Apartheid, Illegal and Terrorist Regime of Zionist Cunt 🐖 🐖 🐷 Isra-hell, The Bastard Child of the US, UK, France, Germany and the West,” Has 'Gone Too Far' in Its War on Gaza

Recent poll indicates a growing disapproval of Israel's 15-week brutal attack in Palestinian enclave, with half of US adults viewing it as excessive, while support for the Biden administration's approach also diminishes.

— TRT World | February 02, 2024

Photo: Associated Press

The poll also shows about half of US adults are extremely or very concerned that Israel's war on Gaza will lead to a broader conflict in the Middle East. / Photo: AP

Half of US adults say Israel's 15-week-old aggression in Gaza has “gone too far,” a finding driven mainly by growing disapproval among Republicans and political independents, according to a new poll from The Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research.

Broadly, the poll shows support for Israel and the Biden administration's handling of the situation ebbing slightly further across the board. The poll shows 31% of US adults approve of Biden's handling of the conflict, including just 46% of Democrats. That's as an earlier spike in support for Israel following the resistance group Hamas attacks on October 7.

Melissa Morales, a 36-year-old political independent in Runnemede, New Jersey, says she finds herself watching videos and news from Gaza daily. Images of Palestinian children wounded, orphaned or unhoused by the fighting in Gaza make her mind go to her own 3-year-old boy.

“I just can't even imagine, like, my son roaming the streets, wanting to be safe. Wanting his mom. Or just wanting someone to get him,” she said.

Israel’s offensive has gone too far, Morales says, and so has the Biden administration’s support for it.

Criticism Mounts Over Apartheid Illegal Isra-hell's Onslaught

The US has become increasingly isolated in its support of Israel as the Palestinian death toll rises past 27,000, with two-thirds of the victims women and children. Yet the Biden administration says it is pressing Israel to reduce its killing of civilians and allow in more humanitarian aid.

John Milor, a cybersecurity expert in Clovis, California, who describes himself as a Republican-voting independent, says he remains “100%” behind Israel.

But Milor notices more young people in his circle speaking out against Israel. A visit to a family friend led to Milor being aghast when the man's stepson denounced Israelis as “warmongers.”

‘’It's not like they asked to be attacked, you know," Milor said by phone this week. "And they still have hostages over there."

In all, 50% of US adults now believe Israel's aggression has gone beyond what it should have, the poll found. That ’s up from 40% in an AP-NORC poll conducted in November.

The new poll was conducted from Jan. 25 to 28. The new findings include more worrying news for President Joe Biden when it comes to support from his own political party.

Fracture lines are growing in his Democratic base, with some key Democratic blocs that Biden will likely need if he's going to win a second term unhappy with his handling of the conflict.

About 6 in 10 non-white Democrats disapprove of how Biden is approaching the war, while about half of white Democrats approve.

Sarah Jackson, a 31-year-old professional closet designer in Chicago, is a Democrat. She says Biden has been about right in his level of support for both Israel and the Palestinians.

But as Israel's air and ground offensive goes on, Jackson's thoughts turn to finding the best way to phase down US support for it, she says.

“But yes, as it goes on, I do become more worried," she said. That includes worrying a new leader will take office here, and phase down support for Israel too abruptly, she says.

'Palestinians Should Have a Safe State'

The poll also shows about half of US adults are extremely or very concerned that the Israel's war on Gaza may cause broader conflict in the Middle East.

The poll shows 35% of US adults now describe Israel as an ally that shares US interests and values. And thirty-six percent of US adults say the US is not supportive enough of the Palestinians, up slightly from 31% December.

A similar share of US adults say that about negotiating the establishment of an independent Palestinian state.

Morales, the woman from northwest New Jersey, said Palestinians should have a safe state, or at least a safe community.

“Everyone deserves a safe space where they can just be. Without interference because of who they are,” she said.

Werewolf Movies that Butter my Biscuits

For starters, let’s get out of the way that The Howling and American Werewolf in London are two of the best werewolf films ever made. I have a preference for The Howling personally, but they’re both excellent. If you’ve never dipped your toe into this sub-genre at all, then start there. Now on with the list!

Ginger Snaps : Lycanthropy as a metaphor for female puberty. It’s been said before, but never so good as it was said here. The performances in this movie are top notch. The effects are amazing. The impact is astounding. I can’t say enough good things about it, but I think it’s well known enough I can just briefly recommend it here. 

The Company of Wolves : An adaptation of a collection of short stories by Angela Carter, with an emphasis on the stories about wolves. Very dream-like, with Neil Jordan at the helm just killing it. The final sequence is my favorite, where we take a post-modern spin with Little Red Riding Hood. With a transformation that burns itself into your brain. Great movie for those who love folk horror and twisted fairy tales. 

Dog Soldiers : A group of soldiers are camping out in the woods when they’re ambushed by werewolves. Simple plot, yes, but it’s excellently done. It owes a lot to Aliens and Predator and other action horror films of the same ilk. There’s a lot of great fight scenes and nasty gore. I’ll say it’s less about the werewolves themselves and more about survival against a supernatural predator, but even still the werewolf design is fantastic. 

Bad Moon : A good good boy versus a big bad boy! A single mom and her son are happy to find her brother has returned to stay with them. But the family dog understands dear uncle is no longer human. I know this one gets flak for a bad transformation sequence, but feh to that, I say. The final form of the werewolf is amazingly scary. The fights with the dog are intense. Michael Pare plays the hell out of this guy who’s trying for one last grasp at his own humanity. It’s a must watch. 

Silver Bullet : An adaptation of Stephen King’s Cycle of the Werewolf. I won’t spoil anything. I’ll just say if covers the monthly cycles of a werewolf wreaking havoc on a small, you guessed it, Maine town. With a particular focus on a young disabled boy and his family as he figures out who in town is the werewolf. Not to sound like a Buzzfeed article, but the answer may shock you. Which is part of the fun. 

Wer : A man is accused of some very brutal crimes, and his lawyer is convinced he couldn’t possibly be the culprit. But... big but. There’s something very different about him that... fits with this list. I’ll say if you prefer your werewolves to be very fuzzy and look like dogs, this isn’t the look you’ll want. They are animalistic, but it’s a very different design than you usually find. I thought it was refreshing, but others might be disappointed. I especially loved the twists and turns the story took, along with how absolutely ridiculous the fight scenes were. These werewolves do things to people that look downright painful. 

Howl : A train passes through the wrong part of the forest and stops in its tracks. (heh.) And, of course, this part of the forest just happens to be infested with ghoulish werewolves. I use the term ghoulish very specifically here, because that is the design we’re treated to. They’re so nasty. Nastiest werewolves ever. There’s a lot of that Romero-esque “humans are the real monsters” type of storytelling, and I thought it was well done. Where we spend a lot of time with these characters, for better or worse, and the werewolves take advantage of their natural penchant for self-preservation and betrayal. 

Wolf Cop : A werewolf comedy! Good God, this movie’s dumb, but then that’s the point. If you’re well entrenched in werewolf media, this will make you laugh. And wince. And then laugh again. 

Late Phases : Werewolves invade a retirement community, and the blind war vet who recently moved in isn’t going down without a fight. Charming, low budget affair. With an extremely cool transformation scene. The story has some gut-punch to it as well. An old war horse who gets his last stand and all that. Very well-done for how little they had to work with. 

Wolf : The werewolf as toxic masculinity. Werewolves get to be a lot of things metaphorically in fiction, and it’s impressive all the ways we can bend it. This movie is about a man who feels he’s been emasculated regaining his confidence and dominance. It’s very ALPHA, and the movie plays it pretty straight, which can be a little off-putting. But I think there is a reading of this film that’s interesting and deeper than that, especially considering the ending. 

When Animals Dream : A female werewolf. We’re so rarely treated to those, and this is a slow burn with a dreamy feel to it that ends with a big splash. It doesn’t quite take the same road as Ginger Snaps, but there is an inherent, womanly curse involved, so there are touches of that. Though I’d say this movie is better at showing our female werewolf embracing who and what she is, and how that isn’t a bad thing. 

The Howling IV : Hey, some of the sequels have their charms. Like this one. Where they go back to the source material and kind of retell. Is it cheaply made and kind of hilarious? Yes. Does it also have a nun who teams up with the main female lead, and the tension between them is cool and sapphic, and I could’ve watched them solve supernatural crimes together all day? Maybe it’s a little more clear now why I’m recommending it. 

Also, a quick list of fun movies that feature werewolves, but werewolves aren’t necessarily the point of the piece: 

Trick ‘R Treat 

What We Do in the Shadows 

Deadtime Stories 

Waxwork

The Cabin in the Woods 

There’s more I need to watch. I’m always trying to expand my mental library. There’s a lot I’ve watched that I’d not list here because uhhhhh they sucked pooty. But maybe someday I’ll make an update list or a part 2. 

The Worry

The Pool | The Difference | The Notes | The Fear | The Thought | The Question | The Walk | The Ordeal | Masterlist Pairing: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Warnings: The next two chapters will deal with pregnancy, societal pressure around pregnancy, and concerns around pregnancy! I’ve CW’d them for that in the tags!! If you need me to add any additional tags, please let me know. I’m not a doctor. Just, you know. Disclaimer.

Also cursing; canon-typical violence Notes: Angsty and fluffy Summary: You don’t want to give a voice to your panic before you know that anything’s actually wrong. 

It’s been a question since before you and Borracho even get married: So when are you two having kids?  You just laugh it off when his sisters ask, and his mom, and Gabriel, that one time. When you were dating it was only once in a while - usually when you turned down the offer of a beer because you’d agreed to be the designated driver between the two of you for that night. Nadia or Megan or Isobel would sidle up to you and pat your stomach and waggle their eyebrows, and you’d just laugh and knock their hands away and screech, “I’m driving!” But now that you’re married… Well, it’s almost constant. And it’s not just from his family. You know that the guys have a pool going about whether or not you’ll be pregnant by the end of the year. The website that you guys used to register for wedding gifts is popping into your inbox every other week to set up your baby shower registry.

And you and Borracho have talked about the kids thing before, a few times since the weekend that you looked after Lissie. Thing is, you haven’t talked about it in a while, but you know that Borracho’s thinking about it. He hasn’t been smoking - he’s been using nicotine patches and chewing gum like a fiend. When you ask him about it, he just shrugs and mutters something about, “having to kick the habit some time”. He’s a little moody about it, sure, but you had been very clear when the two of you spoke that you didn’t want cigarette smoke about your child - “Besides,” You’d murmured when you’d talked about it, “It’s not good for you, Benny. And I want you around for a long time.” That fact that he’s doing that sort of signals a ‘soon?’ to you, but you don’t talk about it. You’re not sure you want to. Talking about it would make it real, and making it real might freak you out, and you really, really want to bask in your honeymoon phase for a little while longer. His family is still pretty pushy about it. When you get handed a kid at any family function, or you help of your own volition, you inevitably hear something somewhere behind you about, “practice,” and “it’ll be different when she has her own”. And you know that it’s because they’re excited for you and Borracho, but it’s starting to wear. There’s one day when you’re cleaning popsicle off of Lissie’s chin, and you hear Nadia coo about you looking like a little mother. And you’re so, so tempted to ask if she’d rather you just let her child make a mess. You’re not being a mother, you’re just trying to help. If Borracho were doing this, would he look like a little father to them? But instead you give her a tight smile and turn back to Lissie, and let the baby’s garbled speech make you smile for real. -- That night, you wait until Borracho has fallen asleep before you get up and do a little research. And a little research brings on a lot of worry. -- You still don’t talk about it. The talking will make it feel real. You don’t want to give a voice to your panic before you know that anything’s actually wrong. But the thing is you and Borracho have technically been trying since you got married. You’re not on the pill, you’re both clean, so you haven’t been using condoms. You’ve been tracking your cycle, you know your ovulation window, and while you did think, once after you came back from your honeymoon that you two might be-- Well, your period was just a couple of days late, so it didn’t matter anyway. You didn’t mention it to him. You read an article that tells you that 80% of couples conceive after 6 months of trying; the same article tells you that 90% conceive after a year of trying. You and Borracho have been trying for 8 months and-- nothing. So maybe there’s something wrong? Some irregularity with your ovulation cycle - or maybe he could have a low sperm count, you don’t think he’s ever gotten that checked out. All of this is in your head. It’s not on your mind, it’s just hanging out in the background. Occasionally it drifts to the forefront and you wave it back to its place, along with the worries that if, somehow, you ever managed to have a child, you’d be an awful mother and the kid would hate you. -- Borracho, bless him, waits. He doesn’t ask right away. Whatever it is that’s wrong, he can tell you’re not ready to talk about, and he’s got the feeling that the conversation will make him want a cigarette, anyway, so maybe it’s for the best that he lets you come to him with it. -- Your first anniversary should be sweet. It’s not. It’s actually kind of an ordeal. The guys have been working an art theft case for the last three months and you’ve been so consumed by it that you haven’t even had time to worry about whether or not you can get pregnant because the two of you have been so busy that you’ve hardly had time to have sex. After a particularly hard night, Borracho broke down and bummed a cigarette off of Connors, and you didn’t begrudge him that one. You’d just sat outside of the bar with him and rubbed your hand between his shoulder blades. “I’ll be back on the patches and gum tomorrow,” He’d sworn to you, and you’d just told him that it was alright, and that you loved him, and that you knew that this was hard for him. He’d flicked the cigarette butt away and practically pulled you into his lap, kissing your neck and murmuring that he wanted to marry you all over again. And then Nick had come out and threatened to arrest the both of you for public indecency. But you and Borracho spend most of your first anniversary getting ready for a sting. Nick’s managed to rope you into field work again (much to Borracho’s chagrin). You’re posing as a buyer, and meeting up with the man that had stolen the painting from the Kohn Gallery. None of the guys can do it - this dealer’s been busted by them before, he’ll recognize them right off. You’re the only one whose face he doesn’t know. When you show at the station, the guys let out little mutters; Connors gets out half of a wolf-whistle before Nick punches him in the shoulder. You arch a brow. You’re not sure what it is - the suit you’ve opted to wear, the pointed-toe heels, or the wig. This one isn’t pink, of course - it’s similar to your hair, but it has a loose, styled wave to it. “Why don’t you ever come to the office like this?” Henderson teases, even as Borracho stares him down. “You all never get dressed up for me, why the fuck would I get dressed up for you?” You retort. “She’s got a point. We’re rollin’ out in ten,” Nick adds. Borracho stands from his desk and walks over to yours, watching you reach under the wig to put in your earpiece. “You’re sure you wanna do this?” He asks. “It’ll be fine,” You glance at him. He purses his lips, and you reach out, cupping his chin, then teasing your nails through the goatee there. “Come on, this isn’t my first field op.” “We won’t be in there with you,” Borracho reminds you, though he sounds like he’s much more hung up on that fact than you are. “I know, but you’ll be nearby,” You say, “And the second I confirm the painting is the one you guys have been looking for, you’ll grab the guy and we’ll be set.” Borracho doesn’t look so convinced, but you lean up and peck his lips and murmur, “Relax, Benny.” And you expect hoots and hollers to go up from the guys, but you hear nothing. They’re giving you two this moment. They know what today is; they know how worried Borracho is. And the guys can be dicks sometimes, but you love them. -- Your first anniversary should be sweet. It’s not. It’s kind of an ordeal. You wind up sitting on the back of an ambulance because a bullet grazed your right arm - not deep enough to do real damage or hit anything serious, but bad enough to need stitches. Borracho is leaning against the ambulance, jaw clenched as he stares down at your pointed-toe heels. You’ve tried to engage him, and you’ve tried to get him to look at you, but he just won’t. When you’re leaving, you expect him to bum a cigarette off of Connors, but he doesn’t. Instead you drive home in silence, his hand territorial on your thigh, like the art dealer is in the backseat, like the bullet is hovering near your shoulder, but neither will be able to touch you as long as he is. He waits until you two are in your apartment to draw you into his arms and hold you tight against his chest. You go willingly, and you cuddle against him and hide your wince in his neck as your arm twinges when you take hold of him in turn. Some part of you is tempted to joke, to murmur, “Happy anniversary?”, but you consider how mad you’d be if he did that to you just now, and instead you murmur, “It’s just a scratch.” And maybe that’s not the best thing to have said, either, because his grip tightens on you, and he mumbles, “Scratches don’t need stitches, sweetness.” -- That night, he’s gentle with you, the way you were with him the first time the two of you were together after he’d been shot. He takes his time undressing with you, pushes your hands away from your clothes when you reach to remove them yourself. When you tease and ask him if he wants you to keep the wig on, he shakes his head and covers your body with his, and he nuzzles against your jaw and murmurs, “You,” sweet and desperate, “I just want you.” -- It’s a hiccup. A bump in the road. A reminder that what you two do is dangerous, that anything can happen. Time passes. The wound heals. The worry comes back. -- You wake up with cramps one morning. You go into the bathroom - you confirm it is what you think it is. You tiptoe around your bedroom, pull on sweatpants and head into the kitchen to make coffee. It’s been a year and a half now, and you are worried. Borracho never did say that kids are a deal breaker, but what if they are? What if he’s changed his mind? What if you change your mind? Your vision is blurring with tears as you pour water into the coffeemaker. You can hear Borracho shuffling around in your bedroom, and you let yourself sniffle before you scrub at your eyes. You set your hands on the counter, taking a few steadying breaths as you hear Borracho come out of the bedroom. You hear him pause before he cuddles up behind you, his big, rough, warm hands settling comfortingly on your hips. He presses a kiss to the back of your head, then to the side, then brushes his lips against the shell of your ear. “What’s going on, sweetness?” He murmurs. You should’ve known better; the man knows you better than anyone, you can’t hide from him, not well. It’s a wonder you’ve managed to go this long without saying anything to him. You lean back against his chest and mumble, “I got my period.” It takes him a few moments, but he nods a little, turning and pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay.” “What if-- Benny what if I can’t-- And we can’t--...” Your eyes are welling up with tears again; your voice is wavering, and your throat feels tight with worry. He slides his arms around your waist, soothingly rocking the two of you side to side. “We’ll figure it out, sweetness,” He soothes, “We can talk to a doctor, we can look into adoption-- Anything you want.” “What’ll your family say?” “Hey,” Borracho turns you to face him. He lifts one hand to your chin and tips your head up to look at him. “This isn’t their marriage, this isn’t their decision. It’s ours. We make this choice, you and me.” He reaches up and smooths away a tear when it escapes you. “And if that choice is no kids, then that’s our choice, sweetness.” You can’t stop the tears now; you surge up and bury your face in Borracho’s shoulder and curl into him and mumble that you wanna marry him all over again. -- Your second anniversary is sting-operation and bullet-graze free. The traditional second anniversary gift is cotton. The box you give Borracho contains a cotton shirt that says ‘I’m Going to Be a Daddy!’, and your (cleaned) positive pregnancy test. (You’ve got a matching shirt that says ‘You Can Stop Asking When We’re Having a Baby Now’.)

SEBASTIAN “SEB” KATSAROS —

IG bio/info: @/s3bgl00m | 17.4k followers | i hate it here. i hate my username name too. Listen to my podcast wth my mate here...open.Spotify.com/podcast/?!.doomngloom

28 years of age

Born & raised in Liverpool, England...don’t ask if he’s met the Beatles he will completely ignore you if you do

Music shop owner in the heart of town

It’s called, “Kicking Kettles”

loves collecting vinyls, cassette tapes, & cds sorry, what did you expect?

His mother is a children’s illustrator

She’s Ashkenazi Jewish

His father is a graphic designer

And is from Nafplio, Greece

They’ve been separated for about a year now, with seb’s father living in France

His mother was skeptical on dating around while she was in a place of uncertainty in her marriage but with a deep discussion with her husband, then her children, she slowly went forward just to see what was out there & found that she wasn’t sure if she’d be open permanently with other beings

Seb was similar to his mother in many ways...

Has a older sister by 2 years named, Xenia...she’s very bossy, a busy-body, & is very vocal. The opposite of seb

she used to beat up guys just for them to turn around and ask her out on dates, a few of them tried to bully seb but Xenia was not having that ofc

very close to his family, even if things are a little off between mum & dad

I feel like he went through a buzzed hair phase & when he finally made the choice to start growing out his hair, going on 4-5 years now, everyone seemed to approve

Even if they didn’t? It be no matter, sure he’d feel a little awkward if someone he cared about didn’t like it but he was sure they would get over it OR get used to it

The hair only comes out when he’s showering or going to bed

His best friend who’s a barber (and a bit of a douche) tells him he’s got to let his hair breathe more often or he’ll have breakage, seb doesn’t think it’s that serious? He’s not sure how much longer he’ll keep the bun now anyways...

This same friend encouraged him to get a “Pompadour” haircut & seb’s never been so offended before in his life, “I wouldn’t want to look like the rest of you knob-heads.”

Anyways, he takes care of his hair the best way he knows how and it seems to work for him...some slightly expensive haircare products here and there & a trimmer & he’s good to go

When he first started growing his hair out, he felt like he needed to go to the salon to know how to manage it. After awhile he learned how to do it on his own + you save $ that way

uses his hands to talk or holds one hand in the other when having a conversation since he doesn’t know what to do with his hands exactly

He’s a chapstick kinda guy who always loses his before he can finish it (been there)

Absolutely loves Japanese food and eats it almost everyday

Japanese Mayo is the superior condiment, bill can stfu!!

probably watches anime

owns a bunch of vans, beanies, and hoodies

smokes hookah every now & then but isn’t too crazy about it

canon: catlover! I feel like he would have a Sphynx, Abyssinian, Ocicat, or oriental shorthair + was over the moon when his baby had babies !!!

He wanted to keep all 5 of the kittens but knew he probably couldn’t, at least not forever but he was going to wait until they were all at least a few months before he decided to put them up for adoption...which sucks but would ultimately be the best choice, maybe???

tried eyeliner again outside of the villa & finds pencil or pomade is better than the standard liquid liner

likes black nail polish but is slightly embarrassed to be seen out with it, it’s the same thing with the eyeliner...he’s not that confident

the guy is a huge blusher & he despises the fact that his face betrays him 80% of the time

often gets nosebleeds

loves red wine especially if it’s on a rainy day and he’s home to fully enjoy it, he feels like he’s on his grown man shit when he does so

I feel like he’d be a fan of the umbrella academy & thinks it’s way better than stranger things...him & nick have argued over this on doom n gloom!

Five is his favorite

Everything he owns is in either black, red, gray/grey, or green

His main phobia is emetophobia (fear of v*mit) & he won’t share why, that’s just what it is

Introvert!

Canon: he’s not a Aquarius

So wtf r ya? Nick & I would like to know plz

Virgo sun? + Taurus moon? + Pisces rising?

I feel like he’s one of those people that feels the need to bring a backpack with him everywhere and you can imagine it to be black ofc

“Who tf are you Linus? But with a backpack?” His sister often jokes (I do this with my sibs, both of them love carrying backpacks. Me on the other hand? I don’t have time for the shit)

He drives a shitty car from the 90s that’s Engine sounds as if it’s about to blow

but 100% perfers to drive his moped, Atticus around

played football (soccer) growing up to help get rid of his asthma

Cannot sleep with the tv on or any form of light around him, it has to be completely dark & quiet!

He’ll only do so if it’s with Genevieve since you know they’re trying this whole long distance thing out

Are one of those couples that will fall asleep on the phone/cpu together

Genevieve might be the, “no you hang up first” & seb will actually hang up the phone and get into bed lmao

Just for vieve to call back like?!! “I can’t believe you’ve done this!

“Well you said—

“Never mind what I said, sebz!!! It’s extremely rude...”

his last relationship before Genevieve lasted 6-8 months (there was a time when he felt like he was unsure if he was still in a couple with that person, isn’t that a shame?)

his love language is acts of service, he’ll do things for you to ease your worries out of love and not obligation so that you feel valued as his partner & I believe he wants this in return as well

I think he’s a bit of a worry wart too when it comes to certain things even if his exterior might show him trying to hide it

He was super nervous to get his first tattoo on his chest, “if words fail, music speaks” but he found that the slight pain was worth it? And quite nice! then he kept going back monthly and soon enough his arms were completely covered

mum hated it, her baby boy was becoming a man! (It’s not like he’s almost 30 but you know how moms are)

Deff has a collection of silver rings, he’s tried out necklaces but he thinks he looks better with his rings

The slit in his brow came from trying to squeeze thru the broken patio glass door with his sis as if it were some booby trap (not exactly, but a safety hazard forsure!) & a piece of glass fell from above slicing his brow and left him with 4 stitches

Secretly into watching those dating shows before and after experiencing it himself

people he enjoyed seeing on the Telly from previous seasons: jen, jake, talia, erikah, lottie, Noah, Carl, Kassam, Priya, & Hannah

AJ is his best girl friend (besides vieve) they FaceTime quite a bit & chat shit to each other on the daily

Feels like she fits in well with his friend group, which just contains his barber friend — they put up with his banter & give it right back to him but he can also be vulnerable & comfortable with those around him so that’s always a plus

It’s the same with nick, except they share a hobby together, their podcast & that’s what seb wants to keep it as, a hobby, for fun & giggles yet nick is thinking about getting paid for what they do. He thinks it’s a great idea whereas seb doesn’t want this to turn into a career/chore

He’s perfectly happy at kicking kettles

He feels strongly about his stance while nick is on both sides

They’ll figure it out, soon.

How are things outside of the villa & since the boat party? They all have a group chat that they randomly speak up in, in the beginning they would do morning and goodnight texts but that became tedious so they settled for either or. Or simply just checking in to see how each other’s days went with seb secretly being the most curious to everyone’s days

Things are awkward between him and Yasmin, he kinda avoids talking to her tbh & not because he doesn’t want to...its just yeah it’s not the same with him and aj where they can easily move forward, it feels like pulling teeth with Yasmin since they’re some what similar & it seems like she’s waiting on him to take the lead on fixing some imagined issue they have with each other? It’s weird idk

Lives in a cramped studio apartment, it works for him so he doesn’t need any inputs thank you

celeb crushes? Demi lovato, Hwasa, Amanda Seyfried, & Birgundi Angel Baker

as for music? Sleeping with sirens, pierce the veil, teagan & Sara, the pierces, panic!at the disco, all time low, twenty one pilots, x-ambassadors, awolnation, jon bellion— listen when atl dropped? Seb felt like he was reborn okay?! , Japanese breakfast, & great grandpa

Anthem = The Postal Service, “Such great heights”

1274

Department One: Apparel And Jewelry

What are you wearing today?  Just a white duster dress. Very loungewear-y, hahaha. I didn’t feel like wearing shorts today.

What does your favorite shirt look like?  At the moment I’m obsessed with my Vante shirt. It’s fanmade but it was made tastefully; the designs aren’t too loud and I love the cute little shoutouts and tributes to his past paintings, so it had been a ridiculously easy decision for me to want to buy it.

What kind of underwear do you prefer wearing?  Eh I don’t really have a preference as long as I don’t find them uncomfy.

What are your favorite kind of jeans?  I’m definitely still stuck in my mom jeans phase. Idk man, I just love how they match nearly all kinds of tops.

What do the last pair of shoes you wore look like?  They were adidas sneakers. Not a big fan of chunky shoes but it’s an Ivy Park and it was on a big discount HAHAHA so I didn’t hesitate to get them.

How many shoes do you own?  A little more than 10. I love shoes and wanna collect them someday...just not today, hahaha.

How much jewelry do you own?  Not too big on jewelry; most, if not all the ones I wear are just borrowed from my mom since we share the same style anyway.

Do you own any real diamonds or other expensive jewelry?  Yeah, the ones I would borrow from my mom are pretty pricey.

Has anyone ever gave you jewelry as a present?  Yes, I received rings and necklaces from my ex. One of my aunts also gave me a necklace when I turned 7.

Do you like diamonds or gemstones better?  I just stick with diamonds...which is...also a gemstone too, if I’m not mistaken.

Silver or gold?  Silver.

Department Two: Electronics

Do you have a DVD player in your car?  Not in mine, but we do have one in the family car. I used to watch movies on there often but after one grueling road trip where my motion sickness acted up, I haven’t wanted to use it since.

If you have one, what does your camera/camcorder look like?  I just use the camera in my phone but back in the day I used to have a DSLR; that was when I thought I wanted to take up photography, heh. It was a Nikon D3100.

How much did it cost?  I’m not sure since my dad gave it to me as a present, but a quick search told me it would’ve cost him around P20,000 which issssss wow more expensive than I thought.

What kind of cellphone do you have?  I have an iPhone 8 with an LCD screen that’s deteriorating by the day HAHA. I really need to get a new phone.

How often do you send texts?  I text just for work purposes now, so it really depends on how busy my accounts are. Some days would require me to send out more texts than usual.

Do you have your own computer or does your family share?  I have my own laptop. My workplace also provided me with what’s supposed to be my work laptop, but they had it sent to me when I was already a couple of months into my job and all my needed files and programs were already in my personal laptop. Since I was too lazy to start everything all over again, I’ve never actually used the work laptop haha.

How many computers are in your house?  We have three laptops in total - my siblings and I each have our own. Kind of a necessity these days.

Do you still have a VCR?  I don’t think so.

How many DVDs do you own?  We probably have around 30-50 but most of them are movies from like the 2000s that we just haven’t thrown out. Personally, I have about five DVDs of old films like Gone with the Wind, Rebel Without A Cause, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, etc, and recently I’ve been buying BTS merch so DVDs are part of that mix too.

Does your car have a GPS?  No. I use Waze on my phone instead.

What kind of iPod/MP3 player do you have? Haven’t used an iPod in like a literal decade. I use Spotify for my music.

How many songs are on it?  Spotify doesn’t work that way since it’s technically a database of songs.

What size is your TV?  Never bothered to ask/check.

How many TVs are in your house?  Four. Living room, dining room, master bedroom, my brother’s room.

What video game systems do you have?  We have a PS3 and PS4. 

What about handhelds?  Switch. I believe my sister also still has her DSi stored somewhere.

How many video games do you have?  Probably somewhere around 50-60. My dad and brother are content with repeating their games lol.

Department Three: Home

What kind of shampoo do you use?  It’s a Dove variant but I’m just blanking out on the specific name/what it does.

Soap or shower gel?  Shower gel.

What does your comforter look like?  It’s pretty colorful and has geometric shapes and lines.

Does it match your pillows?  Yep, they come in a set.

What size is your bed?  Twin.

Do you or your parents like to decorate the house with various things or is it plain?  My mom puts considerable effort in decorating the house but it’s nothing overboard that it feels tacky. There’s enough decor in enough spaces.

Does the furniture in your house match?  Sure. I imagine my mom would be very irritated if she felt something was uncoordinated at home.

What does your couch look like?  It’s a gray L-shaped couch. Gabie broke a portion of the couch’s springs when it had only spent its like first two weeks at home but surprisingly my mom has not noticed it yet; probably because she barely sits on that side.

How many does your dining room/kitchen table seat?  It has six chairs, though since we’re five one of the chairs is almost always unoccupied.

Do you have any fancy china?  No, my mom isn’t the type to collect those.

Do you have outside furniture?  Yeah we have a table and chairs up on the rooftop, if they count.

What do your curtains look like?  My siblings and I have pull-down blinds. The other rooms have these pulled-back gold curtains that’s accompanied by white sheers.

Department Four: Grocery

What kind of bread do you get?  Sliced white bread, always. Sometimes my mom will pick up pan de sal, but she gets those from a certain bakery and no longer the grocery.

What is your favorite kind of cake?  CHEEEEEEEEEESECAAAAAAAKE.

Do you get a lot of sweets from the grocery store?  Eh, nah. Not a big fan of sweets.

What kind of soda is your favorite?  Don’t like soda.

Do you drink juice? What kind?  I can take it or leave it. I wouldn’t buy it for myself.

What is your favorite chewing gum?  Doesn’t matter to me. The flavors last for only like a minute anyway.

Do you usually get candy from the check-out aisle?  Nah. Those are far more accessible so who knows who could’ve touched or tampered with them. Plus, I mentioned I don’t like sweets.

What is your favorite soup?  Miso or cream of mushroom.

Have you ever had soup when you were sick?  No. I don’t enjoy hot beverages/liquids very much so I doubt I would feel comfort from soup when I’m sick.

What are your favorite canned vegetables?  Not sure if it’s a cultural difference thing but canned vegetables kind of sound gross and I don’t think I’ve encountered those (I actually had to look it up lol). My parents always buy fruits and veggies as is.

What do you eat for breakfast?  Fried rice is a constant but my mom switches up the set of viands every time. Some of the meals she serves would be hotdogs, eggs (either scrambled, omelette, fried, or sunny-side up), corned beef, dried fish, hashbrowns, luncheon meat, tapa, and Vienna sausages. Poptarts or toaster strudels?  Poptarts. I’ve never had toaster strudel and I’m honestly not sure what that is.

What salad dressing do you prefer?  Spicy mayo.

Ketchup, mayonnaise, or mustard?  MAYONNAISE. I can live without the other two.

What kind of cookie do you like best?  I only ever eat chocolate chip.

What kind of snacks do you get at the grocery store?  Salted egg chips or Pringles. Not a big fan of snacks either. This survey is making me realize I’m way more into full meals than anything else.

Do you get the meat from the deli?  Er, we don’t have delis here. Too fancy a concept lmao. If we have them, they are most likely in those extremely upscale, boujee neighborhoods.

What is your favorite frozen dinner?  I mean my dad buys frozen meat, fish, etc, but the frozen dinner sets that I see in American culture, which I’m guessing is what’s being referred to in this question, are not common here.

Do you prefer frozen dinners to actual cooking?  I honestly can’t imagine how it’s filling, but then again I’ve never tried it. Personally, food made from scratch is still the best.

What is your favorite kind of pasta?  Fettuccine.

Do you eat meat? And if not, do you eat vegetarian meat?  Yes, I eat meat. I get vegan options if they’re accessible and affordable, but those choices are hard to come by here.

What is your favorite fruit?  Avocado is really the only one I’ll give a pass to. Everything else tastes horrible.

What about vegetable?  Broccoli, bell peppers, green beans.

Department Five: Health And Beauty

What kind of makeup do you normally use?  None. If I absolutely have to put on makeup, I will begrudgingly put on foundation, maybe some eyeliner, and lip gloss. And they will all most likely be borrowed from my sister.

Do you wear more makeup on special events?  Not necessarily.

What is your favorite makeup brand?  I wouldn’t be the right person to ask because I would just say none of them.

Do you use any acne products?  Mmm no, I just splash water on my face, really. I actually got into a conversation about skincare with my co-workers yesterday and besides the usual shocked experessions I get when people find out I don’t use products, they recommended I at least get moisturizer and sunscreen. Idk, let’s see but historically it’s been hard to convince me to invest in skincare haha.

What kind of perfume do you use?  I have one of Beyoncé’s perfumes, Heat Rush. I don’t actually know if that’s still in production but it’s been my staple for like a decade or so now.

Have you ever been on a diet?  No. I never really had to be on one.

What products do you use in your hair?  Shampoo and conditioner.

How often do you brush your hair?  Only when I have to leave the house or have an important virtual work meeting.

What do you take when you have an upset stomach?  Nothing. The toilet usually solves that for me lol.

Do you take any prescription medicine? Nope.

Department Six: Movies, Music, And Books

What is your favorite movie of all time?  It’s been Two for the Road for a solid nine years and it doesn’t look like anything’s on its way to dethroning it anytime soon.

What genre of movie do like best?  Drama. The more realistic it is, the better.

What was the last movie you watched?  It’s a Korean film called Be With You. I liked it and I cried waterfalls, but the ending was so rushed it was kind of disappointing.

What was the last movie you purchased?  I don’t buy movies. If I wanted to see a film I’ll check if Netflix has it, then if they don’t I just try to scour one of those illegal movie streaming sites that always happen to have thousands of pornographic ads hahaha.

What is your all time favorite band? Paramore. Do you still buy CDs?  Only from artists I’m an extremely huge fan of. Right now that would be BTS, so I’m catching up on all the albums they’ve released in the last eight years.

What was the last CD you bought?  I got the Butter album set, if that counts. If it doesn’t, the last full-length album I purchased was Dark & Wild.

What was the last song you listened to?  I think it was Permission To Dance.

What is your favorite book?  I haven’t found it yet.

Do you even like reading?  I used to love it a lot more, to the point that back in grade school I was known as always having a book in my hand. I just don’t know where that passion went.

How often do you read?  Nearly never. I mean...I do read fanfics, I guess; but I won’t count those.

Department Seven: Sports And Fitness

Do you own a bike/scooter/skateboard/etc.?  We do have a bike at home, but that doesn’t mean I know how to ride it. We don’t have the other two.

How old were you when you learned to ride a bike w/o training wheels?  I still don’t know how to last on a bike without training wheels heheh.

Have you ever been camping?  Nah.

How often do you work out?  Nope but at work my boss just started another fitness challenge, so I’ll probably have to get back on working out soon just because I would want to accomplish the challenge.

Are you in good shape?  Sure, I think so. I’m not like fit fit because I neveeer exercise haha, but I also don’t make it a point to constantly eat unhealthy foods or have an unhealthy lifestyle to the point that it affects my body.

Do you go to a gym?  I do not. I thought of getting a membership at the start of the year but I’m glad I didn’t push through with it because all the gyms are still closed anyway.

Have you ever been fishing?  No. Idk if it’s my kind of pastime or not.

Have you ever been on a boat?  Yeah. My country has like 7000 islands so I was bound to get on a boat at some point in my life haha.

Can you play golf?  Never seemed interesting to me so no. Even on Wii Sports I barely picked golf.

Ever rode on a golf cart?  Yeah, in resorts where we had to ride them to be taken to our room.

Would you ever go hunting?  That’s an easy no.

What is your favorite sport?  Pro wrestling or table tennis.

Ever played on a sports team?  No, my school didn’t have a table tennis varsity.

Department Eight: Toys

What was your favorite toy as a child?  Cash registers because I liked the buttons. Also Play-Doh sets that had those contraptions that would squirt out the clay in various shapes.

Do you still play with toys?  Well, no.

Do you collect any toys?  I don’t, but I’m not opposed to start buying Funko Pop figurines of people or characters I’m interested in.

Did you ever have building blocks?  Sure, but I was never creative enough for them.

Did you play with dolls?  No.

Barbies or Bratz? Which were better?  BRATZZZZZZ

What is your favorite board game?  Scrabble.

Do you like to do arts and crafts?  Hell no.

Do you think that kids now have it better than when you were young? For sure, but isn’t that kind of the goal?

Written in The Stars [Hoseok x Reader]

Warnings: Cuss words

Summery:  Hoseok had always been big on supporting his friends. Thus it came as no surprise that he ended up spending his free time at Namjoon's latest buiseness venture: a little dessert cafe. He didn't expect to fall for the cute barista who always worked when he was there though the.

Word count: 7k words

Genre: Slice of life au; Cafe au

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to @kyub for making the banner and @heyitsmeee2, @jung-hoseok-s-airplane, @jiminful, and @elenasgotyourback​ for betaing. This fic took so much out of me! I had one idea than the next and the main time I had to write this was during school. Oof! I am glad I did it though! Big shutout to @bangtanscenery​ for orchestrating and creating this project! It was soo fun!

Hoseok sighed from where he was seated in the all too cliche cafe. Namjoon had just opened it up so Hoseok was trying to fulfill his role as a supportive friend by eating there, but it just wasn’t a place he was into. The place was beautiful. He could tell Namjoon and his business partner had quite the eye for design. The wall behind the register was painted in chalk and the menu was written in large swirling letters across it. They had picked a light and natural wood tone for the tables and booths that complimented the dark grey of the metal chairs which were all  all seats upholstered with a rich navy blue and embezzled with glittering gold rebites keeping the cushions to the furniture. It was an ethereal kind of look that undoubtedly drew in the crowds. 

Looking around, Hoseok’s eyes landed on a large astrology chart sprawled out on the back wall, similar in handwriting to the menu, painting a story with the chart. He only noticed it because Namjoon had a passion for astrology and he would often gush about it to Hoseok who would listen to almost all the times that they met up. To top it off, the ceiling was painted in an all consuming shade of black, mimicking a galaxy with its streaks of white, here and there, which glimmered like actual stars (although Hoseok could admit that the ceiling was almost a piece of art). Aside from the heavy reliance on a theme, it was a dessert cafe. Hoseok liked sweets. Namjoon loved sweets apparently. Almost every food was doused in sugar and it was almost overwhelming just how sweet it all was. They all sounded amazing and cavity inducing (especially the french toast and ice cream combo), and Hoseok was tempted to try them, but he couldn’t handle all that sugar in one sitting. He’d need someone to help and he didn’t have someone to help him today. The only thing Hoseok could handle was the Black Hole coffee (americano with a little sugar) and a Galaxy bagel (it was just a plain bagel with some sugary cream cheese). Hoseok felt a little more like Yoongi, the resident grump of his friends, sitting in the cafe with such… unsweetened foods. 

Of course Namjoon’s cafe had some savory food and Hoseok wanted to try them some other time, maybe with Yoongi.The main thing Namjoon sold was dessert though, and to support Namjoon, Hoseok had to have one of the desserts. 

What wasn’t a shock about Namjoon’s cafe was that he co-owned and ran it with someone else. Hoseok didn’t know who it was yet, Namjoon having not told him yet but from what Hoseok knew of the current set up, they were manning the counter with two baristas. From what Namjoon had said about his business partner, they were much more focused on what they were serving as well as the astrology side of the cafe work than any of the real business. It gave Namjoon exactly what he wanted: the business side of things and a partner to share the possible debt. Hoseok had finally managed to visit today, their fifth day open and if he had to list the things that he did like,  he’d have to start with the ceiling and then mention one of the baristas:

They took his breath away the second he entered the store. They smiled broadly and greated Hoseok and for a second, he forgot that he was at a local cafe and not a family run restaurant back in Gwangju. The world slowed as he looked at them and all Hoseok could think about was the warm feeling of returning to his mom’s friend’s restaurant after his post-school program and eating kimchi and rice. 

The trance was broken the second she turned to take someone’s order and Hoseok slowly came back to reality. He wasn’t in Gwangju but he was about to have a wonderful meal in a shop owned by a friend. 

Hoseok had only been in the cafe for half an hour and he could already say that he was starting to develop a small crush on the barista. He didn’t mean to and he didn’t dare think about actually asking her out… it just happened. She was a pretty woman doing her job and Hoseok was an attention starved small business owner who was entranced by her caring attitude. Hoseok was stressed and tired. Plus, he was finally feeling better after his last relationship. There wasn’t this constant longing nestled deep inside him at the thought of the end of his last relationship anymore, and he might finally be at a point where dating was ok to do again.

That is what he brushed it off as. 

Hoseok didn’t want to think of the alternative. He just got out of a relationship a month ago and was still recovering even if he felt like he might be better now. Sure it might have been a mutual agreement based on his best interests and their best interest, but that didn’t make it any harder. Hoseok still missed the nights when they would spend the night in their apartment and snuggle close while watching cheesy shows or when they’d force him to stop working on pottery for a day and instead grab food at one of the food trucks. He missed the companionship but by now, he didn’t know if he missed them.

He might.

There wasn’t a real way to always tell though. The two went everywhere together. Every place that Hoseok went to now conjured memories that danced and pranced around in his mind. This cafe would be different though. There were no ghost memories dancing around. It was new and he could work effectively and happily. 

At some point while Hoseok was finishing his food, Namjoon came over and joined him. The two had barely had more than a handful of conversations since graduating college, both too busy to make time for the other as small business owners (well this was Namjoon’s second business venture, the other supplying him a good source of money to fund him and the cafe). That was how life was sadly but with this cafe open so close to where Hoseok lived and worked that now they might have a chance of having long and winded conversations again.

“Do you remember watching stars on our old apartment’s rooftop?” Namjoon asked at one point, a soft and content smile on his face

“Somewhat. They were nice. Cold, but nice.” Hoseok lied while taking a long sip of his coffee.

Namjoon had always loved the night sky, so much so that he would drag Hoseok out three times a week just to look at the sky. The man could name every constellation and phase of the moon off the top of his head. It was an amazing skill. Hoseok didn’t have that same passion though. Sure, the night sky was nice, awe inspiring at times, but most nights Hoseok would return from work exhausted and all he wanted to do was go to sleep. Those nights when Namjoon and Hoseok would go onto the roof and look at the sky were mostly filled with Hoseok drifting off in the cold. 

Hoseok did it though and Hoseok would do it again in a heartbeat because it made Namjoon happy. 

Namjoon smiled broadly, “That was kinda the inspiration for the cafe’s decorations! My co-owner, Y/n-ssi, really likes astrology so she added some of the more… magical elements.” 

Hoseok chuckled and looked around with a small smile growing on his face as well,“I am glad you enjoyed those nights so much. Do you still make time to go out and look at the stars?” Hoseok asked before taking a long sip of his coffee.

“No.” Namjoon snorted, his smile much larger now, “I am a working man. I barely have time to eat, sleep, and breath. Let alone gaze up at the stars.” 

“You should make time, Namjoon-ah. It isn’t healthy to work all the time.” Hoseok chastised, taking special care now to scrutinize Namjoon’s face.

He looked very similar to the young twenty year old Hoseok once knew but there was more evidence now of stress and wear-and-tear. Frown lines and bags etched in his face. When was the last time Namjoon took a break from all his work? Hoseok didn’t know the answer. He did know though that he was no better than Namjoon. This was his first real break in a week or two.

“You sound like Minjae.” Namjoon laughed.

Hoseok winced instead, “Sometimes we need someone to look after us, Namjoon-ah.”

“I am sorry, man. I didn’t mean to-”

“It is ok, dude. I am over her.” Hoseok said, carefully watching Namjoon process what Hoseok said.

He still looked stressed, his frown lines growing as he looked at the table instead of Hoseok. Namjoon had set up Minjae and Hoseok and his pride was undoubtedly wounded when the two decided to end it. Namjoon also barely had time to check in with the two so his own memory was probably a little foggy.

“ Anyways, we should try to go camping sometime… or go to some sort of museum for stars. Bet we could stay there for five hours before they’d kick us out.” Hoseok proposed, watching as Namjoon smiled, his frown lines becoming ghosts as he looked back up at Hoseok again as the previous stress left him. 

Namjoon snorted in laughter, “I would love to look at the stars with you again, if that is what you’re asking.” 

His eyes lit up as he started to speak animatedly, “And we can make s’mores and grill some beef. Oh my god! I haven’t had beef in sooo long. It would be so good!”

“I think we would have to go camping to do that, Namjoon-ah. I don’t know if a museum will allow us to start a fire and cook stuff there.” Hoseok laughed.

“Well then, looks like we will be going camping.” 

“Yeah. Looks like we will have to plan that soon.”

A comfortable silence filled the two as they looked out at the bustling cafe, nothing left to talk about. They were both running their own stores, Hoseok had his pottery shop and Namjoon had the bookshop and now this cafe. The two did the same work just in a different setting and neither felt the need to talk about it. Shortly after their conversation died down, Namjoon had to go back to work. He mainly worked in the backroom but there was almost more work to be done.. Hoseok didn’t mind. He understood the struggle. Namjoon leaving actually left Hoseok excited as he could finally start reading the latest book he grabbed from the library. Giddily, he tapped his feet against the floor and quickly pulled the book out of his bag and started to read. The soft and sure feeling of the hardback book grounded him as he started to be carried away by the words. Distantly, he registered people moving around him as life carried on but he didn’t care one bit. The tension rose in the story the further he read and soon enough he found himself tightly gripping the book as more and more problems arose. Time passed at an unknown rate to Hoseok as someone new sat near him or left or readjusted. He barely noticed any and all changes that happened around him, too absorbed in the world he held in his hands (which he was somehow only a third of the way through). That was until he noticed someone sit across him at his table. They said something that he didn’t quite hear or understand and he quickly tried to get to a stopping point so converse with whoever it was (probably Namjoon back to bother him more).He looked up in shock to see the cute barista from earlier, smiling and taking a bite of her sandwich. You were the last person Hoseok expected to see sitting with him. Maybe an old friend and very possibly Namjoon, but you? A cute barista he barely said one word to? Nope. 

You blushed and started to speak, a hand covering her mouth to hide the food you were eating, “I hope you don’t mind me joining you for my lunch. I noticed you talking to Namjoon-ssi earlier and you’re reading one of my favorite books and I thought that it could be cool to meet and talk to you. I am Y/n by the way.” She smiled brightly and nodded lightly at Hoseok.

Hoseok laughed quietly and blushed himself before nodding with a smile, “I am Hoseok. Why is it your favorite book? Oh! And no spoilers! I just started the second part.” 

“Ah! A bunch of good stuff is about to happen! I am warning you!” You laughed before taking a sip of your drink. 

As you did so, Hoseok looked at what you brought with you, namely your lunch box. Hoseok knew that Namjoon built into the budget a small meal for each of the workers during their shift and it struck Hoseok as endearing that you brought your own food instead of eating the sugary sweets offered in the cafe. It was smart too. The sweets probably wouldn’t be the healthiest to eat daily and you could eat more if you packed your own food. 

“I really enjoyed the story. It just… it traps you and doesn’t let you go. The author is really good about that in general with her works. I have read some of her other works and they’re so good!” You said, your eyes glued on the book splayed on the table and not Hoseok.

“I am learning that now.” Hoseok laughed, “This is my first time reading one of her works and I definitely want to read more of her stuff. I specifically enjoy how she is associating certain aspects of her world with different textures and feelings. ”

You nodded excitedly as Hoseok kept talking, your cheeks full of food as you ate. His heart fluttered endearingly as he watched you eat and talk about the book, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed with excitement. Time was moving almost as quickly as when he read the book and he enjoyed it. There was something fun about talking about a book with someone. He hadn’t done it since high school (Minjae was always more of a movie or show person and he did other things with other people). Until now, reading had been an  activity he’d done alone. He found himself smiling and laughing more with you than he had in awhile. Maybe there was something fun about talking about books with others that Hoseok had been ignoring until now.

Maybe there was something magical about you. 

Maybe it was how your eyes drew him in and kept him there. He didn’t fully know. 

The fun didn’t last too long though. You came to talk during your lunch break and lunch breaks were short. It didn’t help that as they talked more and more, he started getting inspiration on some new pottery and he knew that he would need to start working on them soon or he might lose the idea (that or he’ll lose the inspiration).. Just to be safe, he excused himself after you finished eating your sandwich and made his way to his shop. He tried to ignore the image of you nodding and smiling sadly as he left that bounced around in his head but it was heard. You simply looked so adorable and he wish that he didn’t have to leave.

In fact, he thought about how he left Namjoon’s cafe in a rush  many times over the following week. Regret stewed inside him the more time he dwelled on it and didn’t return to the cafe. He should have risked the idea for talking with you (his new creation barely sold so it probably wasn’t worth losing a conversation). He should have stayed longer. He should have asked you for your number. Then maybe he might have been able to ask you out to meet up (and maybe call it a date). Plus, if he had gotten your number then he might have had enough courage to reenter the shop instead of standing outside of the shop like an absolute buffoon every time he passed it. Like he was currently doing right now.  Inside the shop, people were bustling around. A group of children had gathered there after school and were drinking some sort of milkshakes. People were simply sitting there and working. Friends were meeting up. You were working away behind the counter.

He was standing outside like a loser.

He wished that he had the gall to go in and order something (as well as as for your number) but all he could do was watch you flutter around behind the counter as you worked hard, his own heart fluttering and stuttering as he watched you work. Why was he chickening out? He didn’t have this issue when he officially asked Minjae out but with you Hoseok could barely manage to gather up courage to ask for your number. Maybe he wasn’t actually ready for a new relationship. 

But he couldn’t stop thinking about possibly having one with you. Hoseok was so confused. Friends could ask for numbers too. It wasn’t inherently a romantic action. Hoseok liked the idea of it being a somewhat romantic action. 

He didn’t have the courage to go in today sadly. Hoseok didn’t know when he would have the courage to.

With a disheartened sigh that seemed to cling in the air around him, Hoseok turned around and sat at the bench in front of the cafe. It overlooked streets that were surprisingly empty save for a bus or two. He watched as a couple walked hand in hand on the sidewalk across the street, dopey smiles on their face as they looked at each other. 

A pang of jealousy bubbled up in his stomach as he stared at them. The two looked so happy and content. He wanted that. He wanted that with someone who wanted similar things out of a relationship (unlike Minjae).  Hoseok could be the man across the street holding hands with a romantic partner if he just asked someone out.  

“Crazy seeing you here, Hoseok-ssi.” Your voice shocked Hoseok out of his thoughts, making him jump and turn around to face you. 

Your hair was frizzy from a long day of work but your eyes shone brightly, almost saying that you enjoyed every minute of the hard work you did. Hoseok understood that drive. Your navy blue apron complimented what you were wearing underneath too, over all you looked undeniably cute. You took Hoseok’s breath away. Even if you had coffee stains and looked like death, you would have taken Hoseok's breath away.

“Y-y-yeah! I… Uhhh… I was enjoying the view.” Hoseok managed to stutter out, turning red as he kept stuttering.

“Oh really? Street views are nice… Yet, I had hoped that you might have been thinking about coming into the cafe. Guess I was wrong.” You laughed, sitting next to Hoseok on the bench and taking out your lunch box, this time a dinner tucked neatly into it. 

Hoseok spent a few seconds to look at the tattered lunch box. You must have had it for a while as there were scratches and dents on it that only came with time and repetitive use.

“I-I… well… I might have been thinking about going inside.” 

“And what made you decide to not go inside? Did you want an actual dinner?” You laughed before putting some of your food into your mouth.

“Oh… Uh… no… I just… decided not to. Nothing against the cafe.”

“Ok. And how is the book going?”

“Uhh… It is going decent.”

Hoseok was kicking himself. Just a minute ago he was fantasizing about going on a date with you and thinking about how cute you were and now he could barely finish a sentence! How was he supposed to even possibly ask you out when he couldn’t even get out more than a four word sentence and you were carrying most of the conversation? 

He was handsome, damn it! 

He was a catch! Yet here he was getting flustered by a barista… what has he come to.

You weren’t just any barista though… You were a cute and interesting barista who liked similar books to him.

“Why’d you decide to come outside and eat instead of eating inside?” Hoseok finally asked, trying to push his nerves aside. 

“Oh! Well… It’s hot and stuffy. Plus, you’re here. That helps.” You said quietly and from the corner of Hoseok’s eye he noticed you blush as you gently brushed your shoulder against his. 

A fluttering in Hoseok’s heart made his response get stuck in his throat. What was that supposed to mean? Was she interested in him too? How was he supposed to interpret that?

He cleared his throat and spoke, “Yeah… You’re pretty cool too, I guess.” 

What?

What is all he could say?

How lame!

“I mean, I think you’re cool. I just don’t know you much yet and don’t want to say something that might possibly be wrong… I don’t think you might not be cool though! I just-”

Your laugh interrupted Hoseok and struck him into silence. It was a melodious laugh that he could listen to for hours on end and never get bored. 

“I am glad you think I am cool, Hoseok-ssi.” You said, turning towards Hoseok with a broad smile.

Hoseok’s heart was beating wildly now. Its erratic heartbeats weren’t ideal earlier when you were simply sitting next to him but now? How was he even supposed to focus with you staring at him intently? Especially with your lips looking like the perfect place for his own lips.

Unintentionally, Hoseok started to lean towards you.

They really did look wonderfully soft. 

What was he thinking about?

You were practically a stranger! Even worse: you were Namjoon’s employee! For all he knew you were trying to use Hoseok to get a better pay.

But Namjoon paid his employees well… and most didn’t have tons of room to grow with the work as it was a small cafe. 

“I enjoy your company too, Y/n-ssi.” Hoseok said with a cough as he turned to face the street again. 

All of the sudden he was very focused on how hot he was feeling. It wasn’t summer but the heat was… present. He was probably blushing and sweating from the heat. Nothing else.

“Even if we have a conversation like this? Where we’re both awkward?” You asked with a strained laugh, leaning into Hoseok.

You had stopped eating.

“Uhh… y-y-yeah. I am having fun. Even if it doesn’t seem like I am.” 

“So… would you enjoy my company if we… went on a date, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked slowly, your voice devoid of all laughter.

“Oh. I. Yeah! Totally.” Hoseok’s voice cracked and he leaned back and coughed to try to cover it up, “I mean… It’d be cool, I guess. Yeah. That would be nice.” 

You giggled, “Wonderful. How does… Tomorrow at seven in the evening sound? We can meet up here and then go somewhere close by.” 

That was so soon.

He could make it though.

“Yeah. That works.” Hoseok nodded, trying to ignore the incessant vibrations from his phone that was sitting in his pocket.

“Are you going to take that, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked with a small giggle, already going back to eating your food.

“Oh. Yeah.” 

He quickly grabbed his phone and looked at who was calling. It was Jisoo, one of his employees.

“Hey… boss. I am sorry but uhh… I can’t make it to my shift. I have been vomiting nonstop. I think I have food poisoning. I am about to go to the hospital. I tried asking Jinyoung but apparently he is currently working and can’t do any more overtime. I am so sorry.” Jisoo spoke hurridly.

Hoseok winced at the connotation. He only had two employees aside from him and this meant that he would have to go in and keep the shop open until ten tonight. Five hours more of work and he needed to leave soon.

“Don’t worry, Jisoo. You didn’t intend to get sick. Take care.” Hoseok said before hanging up and looking over at you, “That is sadly my signal to go.”

You looked like a kicked puppy in that moment, a sad gaze growing as you looked up at Hoseok, “Ok. See you tomorrow.”

All while he walked away, he wished that he could turn around and spend the rest of your break together. He felt like an ass for leaving right after agreeing to a date but his shop needed him. It was the curse of a shop owner and it was a curse that Hoseok had chosen. 

Of course, what he hadn’t realized until he got to his shop and Jinyoung had left was that he completely forgot to get your number once again. 

He was such a damn idiot at times!

Now he couldn’t text you to fill the time that he was forced to work. He also couldn’t get any more information about your date. Would it be formal? Casual? Where were you going to take him? Should he get a gift for you? 

It’d make sense that the two of you would be going on a date after your shift because otherwise why would he meet you at Namjoon’s cafe? 

In the end Hoseok fretted all throughout his shift and the night about what he could possibly wear for his date tomorrow. Everything felt wrong and he had no idea what to do. Everything he did and tried on felt like not enough. Nothing felt right and for the first time in a while, he didn’t know what to do. First dates were hard and he didn’t know how to prepare. 

He shaved and just barely missed twenty nics and even took a longer than normal to make sure that he wouldn’t stink during the date but what was he supposed to wear?

Despite his panicking and fears, Hoseok somehow managed to calm himself down to restlessly sleep that night and was even able to work in the morning. After work though, he was back to panicking. Somehow Hoseok managed to settle for wearing a simple pair of light blue jeans, one of his favorite large shirts with a smile on it, and his long tan jacket.

His whole afternoon bleed into itself and eventually Hoseok found himself sitting on the bench outside of Namjoon’s cafe, a single sunflower held loosely in his hands as he waited for you (he got it at some point between changing into his current clothes and coming here but he didn’t know if he could manage to pinpoint exactly when he had).  He barely had enough sense to wear his jacket for when the sun set and it got cold (or if he had to hide in it if you ended up taking him to some fancy restaurant). He would feel so underdressed if you did.

Why would you though?

From what Hoseok understood, you were just coming off of work so you probably wouldn’t want to go to some fancy place. Plus, working in a cafe wasn’t going to get you too much money, even if one’s employer gave them a living wage. You’d probably be a little pressed for money. 

If that was an issue though, Hoseok would be more than happy to pay but he wouldn’t care either way. 

It also probably wasn’t Hoseok’s place to pry at this time either.

In a last ditch attempt to make sure he was ready for the date, he quickly tried to check his breath with his hand, only getting blasted with air in his face instead. How was he even supposed to check his breath with his hand? 

Had his hair got messed up on his trip here?

Had they even agreed to meet here? Maybe you said a different place instead? 

Just to check, he looked inside the cafe and didn’t see you there. It was almost seven so maybe you were in the back? Maybe he could just text Namjoon to make sure you were off at seven. Hoseok didn’t want to overstep yet. 

“Are you looking for someone in there, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked from beside him, scaring him to the point that he jumped up and almost dropped the sunflower in his hands.

Once he managed to get his bearings again, his breath was taken away by how etheral you looked. There was almost no way that you had come from work, Hoseok was sure of that. Your hair was beautifully and simply styled and your outfit… Hoseok loved every bit of it. His heart fluttered slightly as he looked you over again (barely noticing the reddening blush growing on your face). You looked so good and for the umpteenth time that day, he questioned his own choice in clothes. He might be really underdressed. 

Dress pants would have been better to wear instead of jeans. What was he thinking? He really goofed up.

“Y-You look wonderful tonight, Y/n-ssi.” Hoseok finally said, blushing lightly as you laughed quietly.

“So do you, Hoseok-ssi.” You complimented, a broad smile on your face as you stepped closer and looked down at the sunflower.

“I… Uhhh… I got this for you. I don’t know what your favorite flower is or if you even like flowers but I thought it would be nice.” He stuttered out, quickly giving the flower to you. 

You looked up at Hoseok with a small laugh before saying, “I love it Hoseok-ssi. Shall we get to the restaurant? I got a reservation for seven thirty.”

“A reservation! I guess it is really fancy, huh?” Hoseok asked, rubbing his neck nervously as he started to walk with you.

“No. Not really. It is just popular and I didn’t want to have to spend the night looking for somewhere to eat. I hope you like Haemul Pajeon (vegetable pancake), I got us a reservation at a small place that is just about three blocks down the street. They make wonderful food.” 

“I love the sound of that. How’s your day been so far, Y/n-ssi?” Hoseok asked, biting his lip to hide a large smile growing on his face.

Haemul Pajeon was one of his favorite foods… and Y/n was being so considerate. He was feeling so soft and mushy. How dare you make him feel so soft. 

He loved it.

“It hasn’t been the best. I worked the morning shift and… well there are always rude customers but morning people have such a strange breed of rude customers.” You had started rambulling, animatedly gesturing and talking about the rude morning customers.

Hoseok simply watched and listened as you kept going on, a content and fuzzy feeling washing over him as he kept waking next to you. Occasionally your shoulders and hands brushed as you expertly led the way to the restaurant while ranting and while it left Hoseok reeling, it didn’t seem to phase you at all. He could live with that though. As long as you were happy. 

In the midst of all your rambling about work, the two of you made it to the restaurant. It was at the bottom of a large building, the upper floors likely dedicated to apartments or business offices. Even from the outside, Hoseok could see a large mass of people jostling around in the restaurant. Large friend groups talking and moving around the restaurant drunkenly, couples draped over each other, and restaurant workers expertly weaving through the masses. 

It was obviously a popular place and it made Hoseok just a little nervous. How would you and him get to talk much when all that was happening around you two? Maybe it would be more of a people watching event? One where he only really talked when it came to theories about other’s lives outside of this restaurant. 

There wasn’t too much time to think though as the two quickly started walking inside. You only stopped talking after introducing yourself to the hostess. In the silence between you two, Hoseok looked around the restaurant. It looked different from the outside. Whereas earlier it looked as if it would be a party place, now that Hoseok was inside, he could see a semblance of organization to the chaos.

Despite both you and Hoseok not talking, there wasn’t a silence that fell. The whole of the restaurant was lively and filled with a soft amiability that Hoseok really enjoyed. 

“Alright. Your reservation is ready. Please follow me.” The hostess said, bowing slightly before turning around and starting to weave through the tables. 

Hoseok swallowed his nerves before he started walking in front of you (the three of you had to walk single file because the space was too small to walk side by side) and gently grabbed your hand from behind. People were bumping up against him as he quickly followed behind the hostess but his grip on you didn’t falter. He hoped that his hand wasn’t too sweaty and that he wasn’t gripping you too hard, but Hoseok was nervous and he didn’t want to lose you in the crowd (or let go of your hand yet). 

The table that you had reserved was tucked in a corner and overlooked all of the action happening in the bar. There was a small candle lit between the two of you that flickered gently in the soft breeze created by the fans above. Hoseok liked the spot.

“I just realized,” You started with a laugh once you sat down, “I talked the whole walk here. Silly me. I got carried away. How has your day been so far?” 

“I like listening to you talk so it’s ok. As for my day, it has been a good day. I didn’t make any more pottery, but I headed the shop and got some good work done there.” Hoseok started, a large smile on his face as he looked across the table at you. 

“Oh! So you’re one of Namjoon’s business friends?”

Hoseok snorted at that. Namjoon did have a lot of business friends at this point.

“Yeah. I think I might be Namjoon’s first business friend though. We met in high school and have been friends since. Back in high school Namjoon wanted to be an astrologer believe it or not.” 

“Oh? I wouldn’t have guessed!” You laughed, “So what do you do?”

“I am a potter. My shop is just two streets over from the cafe you work at.” Hoseok nodded.

“Own. Namjoon and I are co-owners. I run the front.” You corrected lightly, “How about we look at the menu?” 

“Oh. Yeah. Let’s look.” Hoseok nodded along, somewhat caught off guard.

You were the co-owner? It made sense, Hoseok thought as he opened the menu, you looked like she belonged in that cafe. Plus, you were closer to Namjoon’s age than the other baristas' ages. He should have seen it coming. 

After a few minutes of looking through the menu Hoseok spoke up, “So… have you figured out what you’re going to get?” 

“Yeah. I am thinking of getting Haemul Pajeon with a side of chicken feet. What about you?” 

“Uhhh… I think that I am going to get Haemul Pajeon as well but with a side of kimchi. I’m not too hungry today.” Hoseok laughed lightly thinking back to his two large stress induced meals earlier today. 

You snorted and laughed lightly before taking a sip of your water, “I get that. Plus, the Haemul Pajeon are quite large. They have great deals.” 

Shortly after you two decided, a waiter came by and took your order, and then Hoseok and you were left in amicable silence once again. He was a ball of nerves once again and he had no idea of where to go from here… He wasn’t this anxious when he started dating Minjae… why was it so hard with you? Maybe because he was genuinely interested in you from the start and he was scared of screwing it up. Maybe because he had just spent most of the day fretting over this date and now that it was here, he realized that he didn’t think over the right stuff. 

“So,” Hoseok coughed lightly, hoping to clear his throat some, “Do you come to this restaurant often?”

“Not really. I came here the first night I moved into the apartment complex above the cafe but since then I haven’t. I actually came here on my own and just sat at the bar and talked to random strangers. It is amazing to see what conversations one can have when they’re open to it.” You said with a smile as you looked over at the bustling bar space. 

“I can imagine. I haven’t gone to bars much so I don’t have such conversations often but I have never had a dull conversation.” Hoseok said wistfully, thinking back to some of the talks that he had when he volunteered to help the homeless back in Gwangju. He wanted to keep up the volunteer work when he moved to Seoul but it simply didn’t happen. He got carried away with his studies and his life and service work simply got put on a backburner.

“Yeah? I doubt that, Hoseok-ssi.” You laughed, “I can’t believe you’ve never had a dull conversation. Not even one with a boring professor?”

Hoseok laughed lightly and shrugged, “I mean, I guess you could count some of those conversations as dull. I guess I was more thinking about general conversations with people… not cardboard cutouts.” 

You snorted at this before taking a large sip of your water, blush rising quickly on your face. A sense of pride washed over Hoseok at your reaction. He had made you laugh. It felt good to make someone smile this much. 

“I loved most of my professors, don’t get me wrong. They were amazing, but oh my gosh. Ask Namjoon about Professor Gaewon who taught our Stat 240. He was such a snore.” Hoseok started animatedly, smiling as you laughed again, “Even for me and I double majored in Statistics and Business. Dude could put me to sleep in seconds. Lecture or not. I went to one of his office hours once and it was even worse.” 

“Oh really?” You asked with a laugh, raising your eyebrows and looking at him with a lopsided grin.

“Oh yeah! I wanted to know a little more information about some complicated statistic and the details and whatnot, nerdy stuff really. He got so excited but you couldn’t tell because he talked in such a monotone voice,” Hoseok smiled brightly before he started mimicking Professor Gaewon, “This statistic, blah blah blah. It is interesting stuff.”

You were laughing uncontrollably at this point and Hoseok couldn’t help but indulge in the butterflies that fluttered wildly in his stomach. This was amazing.

“Needless to say, I didn’t go to his office hours after that.” 

You nodded, “I didn’t have anything like that in college. I mean, I was also not a business major and didn’t have to take any stat classes but I mostly got a lot of very pretentious professors who had written books or wild professors who I loved. I didn’t enjoy the former.” You laughed lightly and shook your head, “They seemed to think that they knew everything. It was painful.” 

“Oh? What’d you major in?” 

“I double majored in Literature and History. I love it. Don’t use it much with my work but that is ok.” You said, coming to a stop when the waitress came with sides for the food. 

You and Hoseok slightly bowed to the waiter before turning back to each other and smiling. For a couple minutes, the conversation died down and the noise of the restaurant around you two filled the air as both of you indulged in the sides. Before you and Hoseok had time to continue conversing, the waiter returned and gave both of you your Haemul Pajeon and the two of you dug in All throughout eating, the two of you made comments about how the Haemul Pajeon compared to what you two had had in the past. 

Somehow, all the time in the restaurant blurred together and before he even knew it, the two of them were back at Namjoon’s and your cafe. It had closed by now, the windows dark and reflecting the party life outside. 

“Well… this was a great night, Hoseok-ssi.” You said, swaying forwards and backwards with a soft and happy smile plastered across your face. 

Hoseok felt giddy looking at you. How did he get so lucky to have you ask him out? 

“It was. I would love to do it again sometime.” 

“Yeah.” You giggled and bit your lip as you asked.

“Yeah.” Hoseok nodded, biting his own lip as he took a step closer to you.

You took a step closer to him as well, your smile growing as you reached out and grabbed Hoseok’s waist. He leaned closer at this and gently pressed his lips against yours, you quickly reciprocating. His hands rose to cup your face as the kiss got heated, soon enough tongues starting to intertwine. 

A moan left him as you broke the kiss, a sly smile spreading on your face, “You may have to work for my phone number first, Hoseok-ssi.” 

He groaned quietly and smiled, his hands sliding down your soft face to your shoulders, “Well then, can I get your number then, Y/n-ssi?” 

You took a step away from Hoseok and giggled as his hands fell to his sides, “Nope. Try again tomorrow… then I will consider. Until then, good night, Hoseok-ssi.” 

How Thor Changed the Marvel Cinematic Universe

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Marvel’s Thor, the first theatrical live-action film to feature the comic book giant’s version of the Norse God of Thunder, opened in theaters a decade ago, on May 6, 2011.

Directed by Kenneth Branagh and starring a then little-known Chris Hemsworth in the title role, Thor was the fourth film in the still-nascent Marvel Cinematic Universe. It was also — as we look back at it now — a pivotal one in the development of the MCU.

“I’m very proud of my part of it,” Branagh told us a couple of years ago about his handling of Thor. “Which was providing a sort of backbone that they could comically riff off, but at least it originally contained some of the high stakes Nine Realms import that that larger mythology has to have as well.”

Thor took the franchise off the Earth for the first time and into the cosmic side of the Marvel mythology, introducing audiences to the Nine Realms, the kingdom of Asgard and other mind-bending concepts that comic fans had adored for years but which were a major risk to put in front of mainstream moviegoers.

Even the character of Thor — with his helmet and his hammer and his arch way of speaking — often seemed to skate perilously close to laughable in the pages of the comics themselves. But he was also a mainstay of the Marvel line and a charter member of the Avengers, the superhero team that Marvel based its entire initial run of films upon.

Marvel

Thor didn’t take the Rainbow Bridge to the screen

A Thor movie based on the Marvel Comics version of the character had, surprisingly, been bandied around for years even before there was a Marvel Cinematic Universe.

The God of Thunder debuted on the page in Journey into Mystery #83 (August 1962), created by Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, and Jack Kirby. A founding member of the Avengers, he joined Iron Man, the Hulk, Ant-Man, and the Wasp in the pages of The Avengers #1 (September 1963). In the ensuing decades, he has starred in multiple iterations of the Avengers comics, plus many ongoing and limited series of his own.

An animated version of the character debuted in 1966’s Marvel Super-Friends show, while the first live-action incarnation of Thor (played by Eric Kramer) showed up in the 1988 TV movie The Incredible Hulk Returns, a follow-up to the late 1970s series The Incredible Hulk.

While Thor continued to turn up in various animated Marvel properties, it was in 1991 that the first full-length, live-action Thor movie was proposed — by no less than Sam Raimi.

The director, who later went on to make the first three Spider-Man movies and who is now working in the MCU on Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, revealed to the The Hollywood Reporter in the wake of Stan Lee’s passing that he pitched a Thor movie to the Marvel Universe co-creator over lunch.

“We worked together writing treatments and took it to Fox and pitched it,” Raimi recalled. “And they said, ‘Absolutely no. Comic books don’t make good movies.’ This was in 1991.”

The rights to Thor bounced around Hollywood for a few more years (at one point it was set up at Sony with David S. Goyer writing and possibly directing) until landing back at Marvel Studios, which had reinvented itself as an independently financed production company in 2005 with distribution through Paramount Pictures. The studio, run at the time by David Maisel with Kevin Feige as president of production, hired Mark Protosevich (I Am Legend and the unfilmed Batman Unchained) to write a script for Thor, with Matthew Vaughn (X-Men: First Class) coming aboard to direct in August 2007.

Marvel

Enter Tom Hiddleston as Loki…

No sooner did Matthew Vaughn sign up to direct Thor than he seemingly left just as quickly, although it was officially announced in May 2008 that he was departing. Creative and budget issues seemed to have sealed his exit. “Marvel loves the script,” he wrote in The Guardian in late 2007. “The only problem is that it has been costed at $300m and they ask how I am going to reduce it by $150m.”

Even though Thor had already been scheduled for a June 4, 2010 release date, Marvel still had to find a director. Talks were held with Guillermo del Toro, but he decided to direct The Hobbit instead (which he ended up leaving as well). At the end of its search, Marvel finally chose Kenneth Branagh, the Irish actor and director best known for his epic adaptations of Shakespeare’s Hamlet and Henry V — which kind of provided an idea of the tone Marvel was looking for.

Branagh was finally signed in December 2008, telling MTV News, “It’s a chance to tell a big story on a big scale…It’s a human story right in the center of a big epic scenario.”

Once Branagh was signed, the movie’s release date was pushed back from June/July 2010 to May 6, 2011, providing plenty of time for the film’s extensive visual effects to be designed and created and for Branagh to find his cast — starting with the God of Thunder himself.

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The first person allegedly approached was Daniel Craig, who had just starred in his second James Bond film, Quantum of Solace. It was because of his commitments to the already massive 007 franchise that Craig turned down the hammer-wielding Asgardian, although it’s somehow hard to imagine the tough-as-nails Craig as the egotistical (at least at first), young Odinson.

A long list of young, relatively unknown actors tested for the part, including Chris Hemsworth (who was just making his brief but scene-stealing appearance as James Kirk’s father in J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek), his brother Liam, the equally obscure Tom Hiddleston, Kevin McKidd from Grey’s Anatomy, Alexander Skarsgard (Godzilla vs. Kong), Charlie Hunnam (Sons of Anarchy), Joel Kinnaman (The Suicide Squad), and others. But Chris Hemsworth ultimately won the day, with Hiddleston landing the consolation gift that would keep on giving, the role of Thor’s villainous adopted brother Loki.

“That was my starting point, was that you have a character with a predisposition toward mischief,” Hiddleston said about playing the trickster god, during a 2010 set visit attended by this reporter in Manhattan Beach, California. “An inclination toward chaos and a delight in imbalance, and you couple that with the fierce intelligence that he has, and a chess master’s ability to manipulate events three or four steps ahead of the game.”

Adding even more gravitas to the production was the signing of the legendary Anthony Hopkins to play Thor’s father, Odin, along with Natalie Portman as Jane Foster, Rene Russo as Thor’s mom Frigga, Colm Feore as Laufey, the king of the Frost Giants, Idris Elba as Heimdall, and others. Also signed: Samuel L. Jackson for his third appearance as Nick Fury (in an end credits bonus scene) and Jeremy Renner as Clint Barton/Hawkeye, marking the live-action debut of the bow-and-arrow-wielding Avenger.

Filming on Thor began in mid-January 2010 and wound down in early May, with shooting taking place at Raleigh Studios in Manhattan Beach, California (Marvel’s studio home in the MCU’s early years), Santa Fe, and other parts of New Mexico, and locations in northern California.

Colm Feore told The Deadbolt that the Shakespearean training which he, Branagh, and Hopkins all shared enabled them to quickly communicate with each other while shaping the characters and finding the right tone: “One of the things that was enormously helpful on Thor was that during the breaks, Tony, myself, and Ken would be talking in Shakespearean shorthand about what the characters were doing, what we thought they may be like, and how we could focus our attention more intelligently.”

During that same set visit to the Manhattan Beach set of Thor, Marvel president of production Kevin Feige told this reporter and others that the movie was going to feature more extensive post-production work than other Marvel films. “When you walk around Captain America or Iron Man, you can get it,” he explained. “With Thor, what you’re seeing is only 30% of what the movie will be. This is the big question mark and to me that makes it the most exciting. I like it when people don’t exactly know what we’re going to do.”

Reshoots were completed in late 2010, while The Avengers director Joss Whedon shot the end credits scene in which Nick Fury reveals the Infinity Stone known as the Tesseract to Dr. Erik Selvig (Stellan Skarsgard).

Marvel

Marvel takes a big swing with Thor’s hammer

Introducing Thor and the Asgardians — who were essentially aliens, with technology so far ahead of our own that they seemed like gods to the ancient, more primitive people of Norway more than a millennium ago — was a major gamble for the MCU and its then-president of production (and now Chief Creative Officer) Kevin Feige.

Out of Marvel’s first three films, Iron Man and Iron Man 2 were massive, out-of-the-box hits, while The Incredible Hulk was a middling success at best. Yet all three films were Earthbound and dealt with plausible (as far as it went) science and technology. The science of Thor was — to borrow a phrase from the late science fiction titan Arthur C. Clarke — indistinguishable from magic.

“Asgardians are kind of ‘been there, done that’ when it comes to that kind of stuff,” said co-producer Craig Kyle to this reporter and others on the set visit. “For them to send you across the universe, it’s as easy as turning a key … Their technology is only as sophisticated as it needs to be to do extraordinary things.”

Making Thor, Odin and the other inhabitants of Asgard, Jotunheim and the rest of the Nine Realms into extra-terrestrial beings mistaken for gods by ancient humans took Thor away from sword-and-sorcery and fantasy and more overtly into the science fiction genre. But it also provided the film with a back story and mythology that was perhaps easier for modern movie fans to swallow — more Star Wars than the Völuspá.

“We just kept trying to humanize it all, and keep it very real,” Chris Hemsworth told Superhero Hype at the time about his approach to the title character. “Look into all the research about the comic books that we could, but also bring it back to ‘Who is this guy as a person, and what’s his relationship with people in the individual scenes?’ And working with someone like Kenneth Branagh, who has all those bases covered and has so many ideas, it was a hell of a time!”

In addition to taking the big creative risk of bringing Asgard and Thor to the screen, the movie took several other chances as well. Starting a tradition that Marvel would return to with films like Captain Marvel and Guardians of the Galaxy, Thor did not function as a traditional origin story. We meet Thor, Loki, Odin, and enter Asgard with only a brief introduction detailing the history of ill will and war between the Asgardians and the Frost Giants.

Thor’s journey in the film is not that of an ordinary character being bestowed with great powers and learning how to use them, the typical arc of a superhero film. He is fully formed here, if flawed, and as the film progresses he learns to be a better version of the immensely powerful being that he already is — with the help of the human beings that he meets during his fall to Earth.

When Thor — the likely successor to his father’s throne — reignites hostilities with the Frost Giants partially due to his own immaturity, Odin decrees him unworthy of wielding Mjolnir and banishes him, powerless, to Earth. That leaves the door open for the crafty Loki — who has discovered that he is not Asgardian after all, but the child of Frost Giants — to manipulate and scheme his way into power himself.

Marvel’s other big gamble was making Loki a much more fully developed antagonist than had been previously seen in many comic book movies. Skillfully portrayed by Hiddleston in a performance that made him an instant star, Loki is an empathetic, nuanced character whose longing for the love and attention of his adopted father — who lavishes more of both on Thor — leads him down a dark path and into a character arc that would take several years and movies to play out.

“I think Loki intuitively feels that he doesn’t belong there, he doesn’t belong with the family in Asgard and doesn’t belong in the pantheon of gods,” said Hiddleston at the time. “He’s confused about his place in the universe … We all reach a point in our lives where we think, ‘What the hell are we supposed to do with our life?’ Thor reaches that point in this film and Loki does as well, so yes, maybe if Odin had made him feel valued and respected and essential to Asgard, then it would have been okay.”

Marvel

Thor smashes all preconceptions

Thor had its world premiere in Sydney, Australia on April 17, 2011 and opened in that country — Hemsworth’s native land — four days later. It premiered in 56 more markets before finally opening in North America on May 6, 2011.

The film earned a 77% fresh rating and mixed reviews on Rotten Tomatoes, with critics praising the performances by Hemsworth and Hiddleston, as well as the grandiose family drama on Asgard, but less impressed by Thor’s journey to Earth and the climactic battle there against the massive golem-like Destroyer sent by Loki to kill Thor.

More importantly for Marvel, the film connected with audiences despite the perception that Thor was largely unfamiliar or dated. Thor earned $181 million at the North American box office and a further $268 million abroad for a worldwide total of $449 million.

While that ranks it near the bottom of the 23 MCU movies released to date (along with Ant-Man and Captain America: The First Avenger), it was a far from shabby showing for the early MCU and proved Marvel’s calculation that it could expand Marvel’s footprint on film beyond already established characters like Spider-Man, the X-Men and the Hulk.

“I liked it when people said, ‘Iron Man’s the B-Team. You’re calling out the B-Team!’ We knew it wasn’t,” said Feige on set about using what were perceived as lower-tier Marvel heroes. “We knew it was going to be great. And that holds true for Thor … here’s another one that will redefine us and at least raise the bar of what a comic book movie is, for both people who’ve read comics and those who haven’t.”

Thor expanded the boundaries of the MCU into the realms of space, alternate dimensions and cosmic conflicts, while putting another key part in place for the impending arrival of the Avengers. And while 2013’s follow-up, Thor: The Dark World, was a misstep and considered one of Marvel’s few outright failures, the studio brilliantly reinvented the character in 2017 with Taika Waititi’s Thor: Ragnarok, moving him away from the initial Shakespearean grandiosity and into a more humorous space.

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That in turn allowed Thor and Hemsworth to have one of the most profound character arcs across the entire span of Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame. His story in those films, the box office clout of Ragnarok, and Hemsworth’s enthusiasm for the role led Marvel to commission 2022’s Thor: Love and Thunder — marking the first time an MCU hero is venturing into a fourth solo movie.

Ten years later, while not a perfect film by any means, Thor is still an enjoyable, consciously weird Marvel epic that proved the God of Thunder could bring the lightning even to modern audiences. And while Thor has seemingly abandoned the throne of Asgard for now, his first film’s place in the MCU pantheon is secure.

The post How Thor Changed the Marvel Cinematic Universe appeared first on Den of Geek.

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Scarlet Letters

Chapter 2 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Prologue | Chapter 1

Chapter Synopsis: Grappling with the aftermath of her breakup with Rafael, Heather is faced by yet another threat, forcing her out of her apartment. Bryce and her other friends come to her aide.

Pairings: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 2.4k+ | Genre: Crime, Mystery, Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / language, hints of violence

Author’s Notes: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song. Please let me know if you want me to tag you in the next chapters. Comments and suggestions are certainly very welcome! Thank you for reading!

Heather can't remember how she covered the distance to her building, nor how she arrived in front of her apartment door. Grateful for the silence that embraced her as she got inside, she went directly to her room. Once the door shut closed, she finally let go of the flood that brimmed from her eyes. Crouching down on the carpeted floor, in that dark rainy night, she sobbed like never before.

What she can only remember is how hopeful she was tonight before it all ended.

She planned the surprise for him on the first day she landed in Maryland, coming to the realization that she was waging an unnecessary war against him and his efforts to comfort her. It never occurred to her that she will be too late.

She squinted at the picture of the bodies entangled in Rafael's living room couch. She can still vividly see it, along with the sound of the breaking bottle of wine she bought at the airport.

She heard rumors. That's all she thought it was - baseless whispers of people seeing Rafael with someone else. Even her friends Sienna and Elijah tried to warn her of what was happening, but she was so deep in denial that she didn't dare to listen. She trusted him that much.

Her sweet and charming Raf. Her savior. Her love. She never wanted to be so wrong as badly as she did at that moment.

The man whom she thought she exactly needed and wanted was the same person who wreaked havoc in her soul.

She wanted to forgive him, in her heart she wanted to give him another chance. But her brain screamed against it, her past life bursting in all shades of red inside her mind.

The portraits of her teenage years flashed before her eyes one by one, like horrific creatures escaping from her personal Pandora's box:

That fateful day she came home early because she was sick during her junior year in high school, the sound of voices in the master bedroom.

Her dad and a strange woman enamored.

The bags and boxes containing her father's belongings. The divorce and its fallout.

Her mom working night and day to put her through school, leaving her alone most of the time.

Cancer. Losing her mom because of it. The reason why she wanted to be a doctor.

It cost her half of her life to submerge those experiences in the trenches of her adolescence. But now, all of it was bursting over the surface, like large waves in the sea of her present. She felt like drowning.

Helpless, she wailed, wanting nothing but the indescribable hurt to fade away. But it didn't, instead, it stayed, for how long she have no idea.

With her ears ringing and her whole body sore, she fell into a troubled slumber. It wasn't until the next morning that she saw the scarlet letters painted on her walls.

***

Jordan huffed as he jogged away from the sidewalk into the alley nearby. His black hoodie cast a shadow dark enough to hide his face.

He discarded the plastic bags in the dumpster, a soft thump sounded as the spray paint canisters rattled against the bottom.

He found his way to his parked car nearby and jumped in, removing his leather gloves and shoving it into the compartment. He briefly looked at his watch - 10:36pm. He roughly had about 24 minutes before the meeting.

Backing up from the alley, he drove out to the main street and made sure he wasn't being followed. He took the next turn to the highway, flipping on his radio, humming along the music.

When he arrived at his destination, he found a nearly-empty parking lot. He found a solitary Lexus near the back fence and parked his car several meters away. He took a discreet path towards the black car and hopped inside, pulling the hood off his head.

"It's done," he spoke to a man in a suit at the back seat, and showed a picture of red spray paint on blue walls. "You'll hear it on the news tomorrow."

The man beside him silently nodded, sneering at the image. He withdrew a thick manila envelope from his side and gave it to Jordan.

"As requested,"

Jordan peeked into the contents, revealing a thick wad of cash and a glint of black metal.

Contented, he stepped out of the vehicle and got back to his own. Turning on the ignition, he thought to himself - Phase 1 check. Time for phase 2.

***

The sound of scrambling footsteps overlapped with the loud and panicked shrieks within the walls of Heather's bedroom.

Jackie came in first, ready to curse the abomination of Heather's screams as she came in to the apartment, after pulling an all-nighter. She stopped in her tracks darting at the direction where the other's frightened gaze was fixated.

After hearing Jackie's panicked shouts, Sienna and Elijah followed suit into Heather's bedroom. Upon entering, all their eyes shot across the pale blue wallpaper, a scene right out of a horror movie, coming to life in front of them.

LEAVE BOSTON NOW, OR ELSE.

The characters were sloppily written in red spray paint, as if someone spelled it in haste.

Sienna was the first one to rush to Heather's side, sliding an arm around her in an attempt to comfort her. Elijah got out of the room to call 911, muffling Jackie as she cursed with a mouth of sailor.

Within 15 minutes, the police arrived.

Elijah also sent a text to their group chat, alerting Aurora and the rest of their friends as to what just transpired.

A flurry of replies came in right after. Bryce's was among those text messages.

His face crumpled with anxiety as he sat staring blankly at his phone. He was in his office, his oak desk was filled with case files, all of which he recently dug out from the records department to assist on the reopening of the investigation.

This recent attempt to terrorize his star witness made him speechless. The person behind this is getting bold, he observed.

He decided to abandon his attempt to work on a Saturday, unable to quell his worries. He stood up, got his leather briefcase and made his way to the parking lot.

He drove as fast as he could, plying through traffic effortlessly, navigating the familiar route using muscle memory. He ran into their apartment building, and practically raced to the closing elevator to bring him to the penthouse.

When the familiar door came into view open, he let himself in, his eyes darting around.

Gone was the serenity of the brunches he shared with the group. The scene he stepped into was just chaos.

A barrage of yellow markers were strewn in the apartment, while several people were trying to collect any traces of evidence left behind by the perp. Police tape marked one doorway, a few voices discussing possible theories as to how the events unfolded.

In the middle of it was a frail figure wrapped in a thick gray blanket, and he instantly recognized who it was. "Hey," he managed to say coolly as he strode towards her.

Heather looked up at the towering figure who just crossed the living room. She offered a weak smile, trying to hide the turbulent emotions inside her.

Bryce could see right through her though, but he just smiled back, understanding that she wasn't quite ready to open up yet. As he reached out to touch her hand, he was interrupted by the sound of Rafael's booming voice as he stormed into the room.

"I came as I heard, are you alright?" Heather's boyfriend said as he rushed in to kneel down in front of her, looking very much concerned.

"What are you doing here?" The hatred in Heather's quiet voice made Bryce's eyebrows shoot up.

He saw Rafael immediately retreat, an apologetic look in his face, as if he forgot who he was. He saw Raf's instantaneous shift, then went to leave them to talk to the police at the now cordoned room.

He gently nudged Heather, a wordless question in his face. She shook her head and frowned, peeking at her roommates and the CSI team moving about the apartment.

Clearly, she didn't want to discuss it with strangers around, Bryce figured. He nodded, his eyes softening as he realized that there was more events to uncover beyond what he can see.

After an hour, the deputy in charge motioned for the group to gather in the living room. Once they were all there, he began to explain that Heather's room will be a designated crime scene indefinitely.

"I strongly suggest staying somewhere else, we don't know the and exact nature of this, at least not yet. Choose a place that offers the the most security, but preferably somewhere nearby."

With this, Bryce saw Rafael about to raise his hand. Seeing the panic in Heather's face, he quickly blocked the other man's attempt.

"Keiki's in boarding school, so I have a spare bedroom. You can stay there temporarily," he winked at Heather, assuring her that he got her back.

"Why should she stay with you? Rafael's an FBI agent. She should stay with him," Jackie contradicted as she stood behind Heather, unable to see her discomfort.

"But that's what exactly the attacker expects. We have to get one step ahead of them." Bryce countered.

"But Rafael's her -"

"Enough." One stern look from Heather was all it took to shut Jackie up, her other roommates visibly confused. She shot them each a pleading glance, making all eyes shift to Rafael's tall figure across the room. He immediately hunched his shoulders as if in concession.

"I'm staying with Bryce temporarily. He's right, we have to be at least a step ahead if I want to stay alive." She mouthed a thank you to Bryce, then turned back to her other friends. "Sienna, can I please borrow a few of your clothes? I can't touch anything in my room, except the suitcase I brought in from my trip."

"Of course." Sienna left the room while the others still shared a puzzled look between Heather and Rafael.

Agreeing to her new housing arrangements, the deputy nodded and excused himself, stepping out the apartment. He beckoned the rest of his team out before leaving behind his card, asking them to give him a call if they remember anything new. Taking that as his queue to leave, Rafael left after, looking deflated.

When the group was all that's left in the penthouse, Heather told them about the breakup, clearing the awkwardness from the room. She told them everything - from catching an early flight to surprise Rafael, to her ending up being the one surprised, witnessing her boyfriend's betrayal.

"That son-ov-a-bitch!" Jackie cussed, Elijah only shook his head. Bryce's reaction was a mixture of speechlessness and confusion.

"I-I know I've told you about my suspicions, but I had no idea Rafael had it in him to prove them right," a meek Sienna told Heather, her firm hand rubbing against her arm.

"Well however you look at it, he fucked up. So bad." Bryce whistled, his mouth stiff with the effort to wrestle with the truth bomb Heather just dropped.

"For once in this life, I agree with you, meathead," Jackie nodded to his direction, her eyes softening as she turned to comfort Heather in her own way.

They each tried to console her, but Heather insisted she was fine. Bryce saw her defensive body language, so he made it his mission to provide Heather an escape route.

"All right people, don't you have sleep to get to? Gotta keep you all well-rested. Can't have you bitten off your asses by Dr. Ramsey, am I right?" Apparently, the mention of the infamous grumpy attending was more than enough to make them back off.

He grabbed the duffel bag Sienna produced and grabbed her black suitcase along. Heather removed the thick blanket around her and replaced it with her brown trench coat hanging on the couch.

After what seemed like endless hugging and assuring each of them that she'll be fine, she followed Bryce into the elevator to the garage.

They loaded the bags onto his silver Camry's trunk in silence, and got into the car. Heather instantly sighed in relief as she settled into the passenger's seat. Bryce navigated his way out of the basement and into the street, his amber eyes alternately darting from the road to his friend.

"Well, you look like shit."

"Thanks?" she smiled back at him, unable to stifle a chuckle.

"No problem. You know I'm not one to give false commentary." He grinned, before finally focusing in his driving.

It wasn't long before they arrived in Bryce's sleek condominium complex. She knew the building was newly-built and probably the most secure residence in the city money can afford. Bryce called it Boston's Fort Knox, so when he offered his place, it seemed to be the best solution.

It was initially a bachelor's pad, with enough space for a kitchen, a living area with floor to ceiling windows, and two bedrooms. But over the past few months, it transformed into something more homey, a place where the Lahela siblings can call their own.

It wasn't Heather's first time there. She spent many of her day offs there, all just to help him with his relationship with Keiki, Bryce's teenage sister. She also had the most hand in how it looks inside now.

As they stepped into the condo, Bryce couldn't help but notice how Heather's looked around. The sight of her in his place brought back fond memories.

After a few moments, he urged her to move forward, and led her to the bedroom across the hall.

He unlocked the door and let her in, a mixture of yellow, blue and white interiors welcomed her. It was a homage to the sun, sea and sand of their native state Hawaii.

"Do you want anything? A drink? Something to eat? Boxing gloves to punch someone with?" Bryce leaned on the room's doorway, watching her as she settled in.

As if on queue, her stomach rumbled, and he can't help but laugh.

"Do you still have a pack of ramyun here? I'll come out to cook once I don't look like the piece of shit you just called me." Heather rolled her eyes at him, grabbing a towel from the nearby dresser.

"Nah, I'll whip it up myself you just make yourself presentable to eat my majestic korean noodles." He bowed to her like a butler would before setting course back to the kitchen.

She snickered as she stepped into the shower. Leave it to Bryce Lahela to lighten up the mood.

Tags - @choicesficwriterscreations @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela

all that’s left in the world | chapter eight

Title: all that’s left in the world—

Synopsis: —is me.

Neku’s been shot and Shibuya is threatening to go the same way as Shinjuku, but just because the first Game is over doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten how to play.

Or: Neku deals with a nightmare city and his most annoying (and mathematical) partner yet; Shiki and Joshua commit an escalating number of illegal moves, Beat and Eri hunt down a stray Reaper, and Rhyme watches and waits for the counter-attack. Shibuya refuses to go down easy.

Fandom: The World Ends With You | TWEWY

Warnings: cursing, referenced current character death via Reaper’s Game, references to past character death, friend drama, and self-worth/self-esteem issues. If there’s anything in the chapter you feel I missed, let me know and I’ll add it on here!

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AO3 Link is here!

Previous chapters are here!

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part eight: eri

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Eri and Beat’s first day of casing Shinjuku—what’s left of Shinjuku—goes poorly.

They arrive late, and search until the sun starts going down and turns all the buildings into gothic, spooky silhouettes, and if Beat had his way, would probably have continued searching after dark if Eri had not loudly and firmly put her foot down. (No matter what Beat says later, it was not because the moment the lights went out, Eri had gone stiff and pale and jumpy at the slightest noises. It was not. Eri doesn’t believe in ghosts, not even in the apocalypse, and she is, most certainly, not afraid of the dark. So there.)

Night falls fast and quick, and in the end, they find an empty shell of a café stand and settle down for the night. When the talking finally dies down, and Beat gone to sleep, Eri lays there in the dark for a long time, feeling young and stupid and missing her bed, because it’s the petty things that keep her mind from the frightening things—how hollow Shinjuku has become, how cold, how Shiki hasn’t answered any of her texts at all… how none of Eri’s texts have reached her.

Here are the cold hard facts: Eri has no idea what’s going on.

Beat had tried to explain—Reapers and Games and UGs and whatever—but she suspects he doesn’t really understand it fully himself, and no wonder. There’s so much Eri feels like her head is going to explode, this rising scream in her ears like an instrument out of tune, and if she focuses on it too long she thinks she might cry. That first night, she curls up with her Mom’s old brass knuckles clenched tight in one fist, and doesn’t sleep well at all. In the dark nightmare city, her dreams have turned faint and blurry, almost feverish, a distorted echo of her room and her father opening the door, his face fallen in grief, saying, “Eri, honey, I’m so sorry... Shiki is...”

When the sun finally rises—or at least, when the ash gray sky gets a little lighter— Eri wakes up with her eyes dry and aching, and Beat leaning down over her with a frown. “You okay?” he says, when he sees she’s awake. “You were making noise.”

Outside the café stand, the sky is pale gray and dim; the light barely reaches inside at all. Her mouth feels cottony and her throat tight; dust drifts in the air like snow. Even Beat, brash and bold and bright like a really annoying flare, seems faded here—his pale hair near colorless, his clothes greyed and the colors turned weak and subdued.

Eri sits up, and scoots away. She doesn’t dislike Beat, mostly; doesn’t really know him, besides the fact he’s part of that weird group of friends Shiki picked up from nowhere and then couldn’t be separated from. “Fine,” she says.

She’s not. There’s dust in her hair and smearing all across her pretty green skirt—the one Shiki stitched her—and the night has left a crick in her neck, her side, the back of her leg. Eri stretches out her leg and takes a breath. “Fine,” she says again, stronger now. “Day two?”

Beat doesn’t look like he believes her, but he leans back, and that’s good enough for Eri. “Yeah,” he says. Hesitant, maybe, and looking like he wants to ask, but in the end, he just shakes his head. “Day two, yo. Ready to go?”

“In a minute.”

“Alright.”

She watches him wander off to repack their stuff and check the surroundings, or some other survival shit she should probably be thinking of, and exhales shakily. Day two. Ugh. She’ll say this for the nightmare-land Shinjuku: if nothing else, it’s convinced her that whatever’s going on, it’s very, very real. Bizarre monsters aside.

Eri works on getting up, stretching out her arm, and tries not to shiver at the memory. Noise, Beat had called them, and Eri still isn’t sure if that’s meant to be ironic or something, because frankly those things hadn’t made a sound. She hasn’t quite mustered the nerve to ask. Those monsters were just…

They would have been beautiful, Eri thinks, in any other circumstance. Those swirling designs and colors, the bold strokes. Even their resemblance to animals… but maybe it’s the resemblance that makes them so unnerving. Their limbs too long, proportions all off, eyes blank and fuzzy like the white static on broken TVs. God. It still makes her shake to think about.

The fact Beat has fought them before—that Shiki has probably fought them before—doesn’t help matters at all. What happened that month, when Shiki was ignoring her? How could Eri have missed this? Her best friend was fighting for her life while Eri… what, sat and moped at home?

It doesn’t make sense. It just doesn’t fit. She knows they had that fight, but… surely Shiki must have known Eri would have come to her side in a heartbeat, right? Even if their phones didn’t work or whatever, couldn’t she just have told Eri straight? Shiki must have known Eri would help, right? …Right?

(Her fingers curl tight over the brass knuckles. In her head, her dad’s voice echoes. Eri, honey… Shiki is—)

Eri hates this city. Shinjuku: officially on her shit list! Forget the creepy apocalypse aesthetic, ignore the blood-red clouded sky and the cloying taste of ash. Damn the broken rubble and everything. Eri could handle all of it, but these stupid Games and stupid monsters, and all the questions they bring with them… yeah, no. That, Eri can’t forgive.

And the silence—god! The silence. It hadn’t bothered her too much at first, but the longer this ordeal goes on the more it itches at her. The Noise, too… their bright colors all dull and ashy like everything else in this ghost town, and as Eri had watched them stalk the streets, the lack of—anything—click of claws or snarling or even static—had made something knot in her throat. This place. Just, this place.

Café-man should have sent Mom here instead of me. Her mom would laugh and laugh if she knew Eri was getting freaked out by the quiet; deafness, an automatic defense mechanism against the apocalypse. This place and its creepy silence would barely phase her, though the sheer destruction would probably still make Mom look twice.

Ugh, and now Eri’s thinking about her parents, and missing them, and missing home all over again. Stupid brain. Mom isn’t here, and even if that absence of her—of anyone— aches more than even the silence, Eri just has to deal.

She finishes stretching out her arm and moves on to rolling her shoulder. Ow. Café stand floors are so not comfortable resting places. Which, speaking of…

“I can’t believe I slept on the floor,” Eri mutters to herself, rubbing at her neck. Shiki owes her for this. Shiki owes her… a reply and a call back, maybe. It’s not her phone, Eri’s pretty sure—she’d called her parents last night, said she was staying at a friend’s place, and learned in the ensuing conversation that according to the rest of the world, Shinjuku had never existed in the first place. What are you talking about, Eri? Ha, ha, ha.

This is so not how Eri wanted to spend her summer.

She takes a moment to cover her eyes and breathe, and then she rises to her feet and smacks the dust off her skirt. That’s probably as good as she’s going to get. It’s time to face the day.

Beat is waiting by the entrance, rubbing absently at his wrist. Eri comes up beside him. He eyes her. “You ready?”

She shrugs, and fusses a little with the bangle on her arm. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

He frowns at her, a little. Eri stares coolly back.

“If you say so,” Beat says finally, and hands her a protein bar before heading out the door.

Eri takes the bar with a grimace, and follows after him. As they walk, she peels the bar open, chewing it glumly. Second worst thing about this endeavor. She’d been so shaken by, like, everything... she’d forgotten to prepare. No supplies, no food… no water.

Or so she’d thought, anyway. She’s still not sure what to make of the backpack of supplies they found when they stopped to rest, or of the way Beat lit up and went “Thanks, Coffee Man!” but like. After yesterday? It’s fine. It’s whatever.

She checks her phone—no messages getting through to Shiki, okay, okay—and then crumples the wrapper in her hand. Go time. Maybe she isn’t the fondest of Beat (or Rhyme, or Neku, but—) but, Eri can do this. She can. For Shiki, if nothing else. Eri’s feelings on the matter don’t mean shit in the face of yesterday: the way Shiki had gone dead white, the way her eyes had gone lifeless and blank and far-seeing at that phone call. The way she’d stared right through Eri— right through her, like she wasn’t there. Like nothing was there. Like for a moment, for Shiki, the whole world stopped turning.

And yeah, thank god, it hadn’t lasted long. Shiki had hung up the phone and gone scary intense instead, before running off to do—whatever it was she was planning. But Eri... Eri doesn’t think she’ll forget that look anytime soon.

And that matters too. Eri isn’t the fondest of Neku, but she’s never wanted him dead, and—and if that’s what Shiki looks like when Neku is gone, if that’s what taking Neku away does to Shiki... then yeah. Eri’s here. She’ll play this weird fucking murder game for dead kids and she’ll help skater-boy track down the cutesy girl with the gun and Eri is going to do whatever she can. Whatever it takes. Whatever’s needed to make sure Shiki never has to make that face again.

It just. Galls, a little. A tiny bit. Neku. Beat, Rhyme, etcetera. Why them? Eri knew Shiki longest. Eri has known Shiki for like, ever. Where did these people even come from? And why—why are they so—?

It’s not jealousy! Eri tells herself, now out on the streets proper and squinting up into the glaring white foggy day. Eri isn’t jealous. She’s not. It’s just weird, is all. It’s just— it’s always been just her and Shiki, before. She’s not sure where these strangers fit into that. She’s not sure why they have to.

She kicks a rock, somewhat vindictive. It bounces away very pitifully. Eri tilts back her head and sighs. Ow, daylight. Burning her cornea. Another thing she forgot: sunglasses.

She can’t see the sun, but this dead Shinjuku is bright anyway; it’s like it is reflecting the light tenfold. Makes sense, in a way. Empty buildings and blank screens—what else is it supposed to do if not reflect? It’s not like it’s got any image of its own to show.

Eri kicks another rock. It doesn’t even make a sound. God, this place is so creepy.

“Hey, uh...”

She resists the urge to sigh at him; her fingers clench. “What?”

Beat is walking with her, now, fallen back to match her pace. He rubs at his shoulder like he’s trying to press out an ache, and squints at her like she’s the sun. “You, uh... you sure you okay? ‘Cause like—”

“I already said I was fine.”

“I mean, yeah, but—”

“Look,” she says, losing her patience. “I’m in a nightmare city in a nightmare place looking for fucking Neku Sakuraba and we’ve been here for hours and nothing’s happened and so far I think I’ve been holding together pretty damn well, so could we just—” She throws up her hands. “Can we not!”

She pauses, breathing hard. Beat looks away first. “Whatever, yo,” he says, a little stiff, and takes off down the street. “I won’t ask again, alright, I got it.”

There’s a brief flare of shame—he hasn’t even done anything, and here she is, yelling at him like he’s the cause for everything—but Eri is tired, and she’s just woken up, and she’s thinking of Shiki now, Shiki with Beat and Neku and Rhyme, the way Shiki smiled. And suddenly she doesn’t feel sorry at all. “Good.”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say a word, just checks in another building. Turns away, and heads to the next one. Conversation apparently over. Well, that’s just fine with Eri.

Beat heads over to another ruin, though, and Eri lingers back, hand on her hip, starting to frown. He’d done this last night, too, before it got dark; Eri makes an incredulous noise. “Are we really checking every single building for this Reaper girl?” He’s not even checking them properly—one glance through the windows and gone.

Beat’s expression sours a little. “Yeah? So? Man, why aren’t you lookin’?”

“I don’t think we’re going to find her like that,” Eri informs him. “I mean—isn’t she—that’s too easy.”

“You got a better idea?” he says, but it seems rhetorical, because barely a second later he shakes his head hard, fists clenched and says, “Bah, figures,” which makes no sense at all, and then he makes a sharp, angry noise in the back of his throat, puts down his skateboard, and starts rolling away.

“I—you—what?” Eri stares after him. He gets further away. What the fuck? “Seriously!? Where are you going!”

He ignores her. “This is taking too long, yo!” He puts down his foot and stops with a jolt, and shakes his fist at the bleeding morning sky. “OI! Reaper girl! Coco! Get the fuck out here, man!”

Holy shit. He’s—he really just did that, Eri realizes. He left in the middle of her talking. He’s speeding away on his damn skateboard and yelling for the murderous Reaper with a gun while she—

Ugh.

What does Shiki see in these people?

“What are you doing? Stop that!” Eri cries, ineffectually, and jogs after him. He’s stopped, thank goodness—staring up at the sky with a scowl, hands curled to frustrated fists. His lip is getting worried through his teeth. His foot is tapping. “Oh my god. What were you thinking? What if she—and you—do you ever slow down?”

He blinks at the clouds and then turns and blinks down at her. “Nope,” he says, though he sounds a bit sheepish about it. His shoulders slump a bit. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to leave in the middle of the convo, just… ah, it’s just getting to me. Phones used to— anyway, sorry about that. I just thought...” He trails off. He stares with a furrowed brow over the city, and makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Man. You really don’t like Phones, do you?”

Eri has to mentally rewind their conversation for a few minutes until she gets it, and then she flushes a dull red. In a nightmare city in a nightmare place looking for fucking Neku Sakuraba… possibly, maybe, a bit obvious. Whoops. “I— look, I’m just frustrated. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Beat only shrugs. “Alright. If you say so. Rhyme always says I jump to conclusions…” He trails off again, and then shakes his head. “Well, anyway.” He takes a deep breath. “OI, COCO—”

Eri muffles a scream behind her teeth and lunges at him, dragging him back. Beat yelps. “Come on! You’re just drawing the attention of all those monsters to us! There’s obviously no way that’s actually going to w—”

Their phones ding at the same time. Eri chokes.

There’s a long moment of stiff silence. Beat reaches for his phone first.

“Don’t—”

He’s already opened it. Eri covers her face.

“…Damn,” Beat says, finally. The anger has fled from him; he sounds tired now, worn and a little frustrated. He presses a hand over his eyes. “She’s just messing with us.”

Eri warily reaches for her own phone—first café guy, and now this murderous Reaper, how do these people keep getting Eri’s number—and flips it open.

Her hand tightens at once. This is… what even is this? Eri has a set font for her phone, meticulously installed settings and everything, and somehow this text message has defied all of them. Coco has mangled the look of the kanji something awful; Eri wants to strangle her partly for the poor aesthetics and partly in revenge for her eyes.

Next to her, Beat shakes his head. “Argh, this doesn’t make any sense to me, yo. Hey, can you read this shit?”

Eri doesn’t grit her teeth, but it’s a near thing. Damn, she knew he’d ask. She flits her gaze back to the text message—big and ballooned and pink-lettering like the writer was trying to be cute, with so many hearts it makes the designer in Eri wrinkle her nose and sniff, tacky. Plus, she thinks—is that short-hand? Oh, fuck.

If she’d had better sleep, if she wasn’t exhausted, if there wasn’t a headache pounding behind her eyes, then maybe Eri would have some success parsing through it. As it is, she flips her phone shut. “No,” she says stiffly, but when Beat just nods and sighs and turns away, she relaxes a little. “Can you?”

He mutters. “Game… welcome… I think she’s asking us to play? Definitely from that damn Reaper girl, though.” He scowls, and flashes the signature at her; COCO, written out in English with a big and scrawling font.

Eri looks back to her phone with a clench to her gut.

Beat groans and snaps the phone shut. “Whatever, yo. Who cares what shit she has to say. Probably just a stupid game. Reapers love that stuff.”

Eri bites her lip and opens her phone again. No. Language still not computing. Still... “If it’s from the girl we’re tracking down, there might be a clue. Shouldn’t we—”

“Nah, it’s cool.” She frowns at him, but Beat grins back, wide and a little brash, and punches his fist into his palm. “Look, trust me on this one. I’ve got this, yo! They want a game, I’m not gonna play. Works every time.”

That doesn’t seem quite right to Eri. “Um.”

His smile falters a little. He rubs the back of his neck. “...Look, I—I, um, I’m not the smartest, I don’t get things sometimes, I get that, but— I dunno, it’s worked before, alright? People like Miss Chiff, you know, they want... they need people to play. And when I was in the Game...”

He makes a noise, waves his hand, as if trying to find the words. “I mean, they erase you if you don’t do the missions, sure, but shit like this is different, yo! When you don’t play, turns out they end up coming right to you. Get them mad, and then hit ‘em when they’re distracted, and bam! Reaper down!”

There’s a pause. Beat trails off at Eri’s stare, turning red, and looks away. “It, uh, worked for me and Phones, so I... never mind, you’re probably right, it’s stupid. Let’s—”

“Erase you?” Eri echoes, hollow, and Beat stops mid-word and blinks at her. “What do you mean, they erase you?”

Beat blanches. “Uh.”

Eri’s mind is whirling. “Do you mean—if you fail a mission, they kill you?” But then… “No. No, that doesn’t make sense, then why would it be erasure? That’s just murder.”

“Well, yeah, it is,” Beat says, looking uncertain. “But we were kind of already—”

He stops. Eri stops. Beat’s eyes go wide. “Oh,” he says, and then he starts waving his hands, laughing loudly and nervously. “Never mind, yo, t-that’s not—anyway, what about this weird-ass text, right—”

Eri isn’t listening anymore. “Already,” she says. Neku, shot dead by the murderous Reaper—he’s in the Reapers’ Game, a contest to come back to life, isn’t that what that weird café guy had said? And on second thought, with what she knows now: isn’t that odd? Isn’t that strange? Doesn’t that mean…

“Already,” she says again, and her breathing picks up. Oh no. Oh no. “But then—if that means—you have to be dead to get into the Game? But you were in the Game. I don’t understand. If Neku is—and you—but then, that means—”

The dream comes back to her. Eri claps a hand over her mouth. She falls to her knees.

“Woah, woah, woah, I— Eri— yo, you okay!?”

She should have realized this sooner, Eri thinks. She should have connected the dots as soon as Beat explained the Game to her, as soon as he’d said he was a Player too. That awful echo of a dream. All those questions about where and how and when Shiki met Neku, met Beat, met Rhyme.

“Shiki died?” she asks, and her voice is very small.

“Oh, shit,” Beat says, and kneels next to her, hands fluttering over her shoulders like he doesn’t know what to do. Eri has the same goddamn tick. Somehow that hits her hardest of all; she starts hiccupping. The alarm on Beat’s face deepens to panic. “Oh man, no, I— she’s not! Anymore! We got out, yo, we all came back. Good as new!”

And now, at last, she has a better idea of why they all called it the Game. She thinks she might be sick. She wipes at her eyes. “Y-you won?”

“Well, that’s... y-yeah.” Beat looks away. Then he looks back at her. “Shiki’s alright. And she’s strong. Whatever she’s doing now, she’s probably kicking ass. Maybe even beating us to Phones, or the Reaper girl.” His smile is weak and false, but it stretches wide on his face. “I don’t— I don’t know much. Sorry. But she’s okay, yo, I can feel it. And when this is done you can go and yell at her all you like.” He awkwardly claps her shoulder. Eri presses her hands against her eyes, the sudden crying fit fading as quickly as it started. “You... uh...”

She exhales, slowly. Her head pounds. “F-fine. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” She brushes his hand away—kinder, this time—and rises unsteadily to her feet. Games and Reapers and Shiki dying. She supposes she understands why Shiki went so blank in the eyes, before. It feels a little like getting hollowed. “Let’s... let’s talk about something else.”

“Uh... well, okay, but—”

“Plan,” Eri tells herself, and rubs at her cheeks. Ugh, makeup smeared everywhere. She rubs at it harder. It’s already faded from the night—and who cares how put together she looks right now? It’s the damn apocalypse, or something. “You said you had a plan?”

“Well... nah, never mind it, it was kind of stupid—”

But Eri remembers it now, and she rubs at her face one last time and takes a deep breath, thinking. “Don’t play their games. Anger her into coming to us.” She exhales carefully, and swallows down the last stray sob in her throat. “That... that could work.”

Beat brightens at once. “Yo, you think so?”

“…Yeah.” Her breathing is settling. She blinks and shakes her head and straightens. “Y-yeah. If we—I mean, this message... she responded to you. She’s paying attention. She’s trying to make us do something. and if we don’t do it...” If they just ignore it entirely, or do something so out of bounds ridiculous... this is a girl who was willing to kill someone for this, whatever her goals are, right? So she’s taking this seriously. She’s got plans.

The more she thinks about it, the more it clicks. Because really, Eri thinks. What better way to draw the mastermind to you, than to treat the mastermind in question as irrelevant? She’s pretty sure she saw it work in a movie once, or something.

And hey, even if it doesn’t work... at least they tried. One option down.

She feels a little more settled now. She tugs at her skirt hem and gives Beat a weak smile. “Hey, works for me.”

“Really? Aw, hell yeah!” He punches the air. His face tightens, a brief flash of pain, but Eri blinks and a second later its gone. Beat shakes his head and laughs it off. “Man, I was worried for a second there. I know you don’t like me, so I thought that you’d—”

“—What?”

“—shut me... what?”

“It’s not... I don’t... I don’t dislike you,” Eri says, and feels it burn in her cheeks like heat.

He frowns at her. “I don’t mind it,” he says, slowly. “But you think we don’t see the looks you give us? Me and Phones?” He rubs at his hat. “Now if it was at Rhyme, that’s nuts, but it’s whatever, I guess. Can’t like everybody. We’re cool, man.”

Some part of Eri is horrified. “You—” They noticed? Oh god. Had Shiki noticed? Oh no. “I don’t hate you,” she says, and she means it, but she’s bright red anyway. Ughhh. “And I—I wouldn’t shut you down even if I did. I wouldn’t. You have some pretty good ideas sometimes.”

Beat looks back at her with raised eyebrows like she’s said something silly and it actually hurts, a little, to see that. “You do. I mean it. Maybe you don’t think things through, and maybe you rush ahead a lot, but that’s—that’s not—” She doesn’t have the words for this, the language, and she bites her tongue hard and shakes her head. “I actually kind of— can I tell you something?”

He blinks at her. “Uh… ‘course.”

“Thanks.” Eri takes a deep breath. “I want, more than anything—I’ve always wanted to be a designer.”

He nods. “Like Shiki!”

“Yeah.” The reminder of Shiki warms her. She imagines Shiki’s smile, her quiet encouragement, the way she took scribbles and half-hearted dreams and turned them into something real, something Eri could hold in her hands and look at and really, really see. I can do this. With you, I can do anything.

She wonders if Shiki will ever know just how much that moment meant to Eri. Maybe not.

“Yeah,” Eri says, more decided now. The things Shiki gave to Eri… maybe she can pay it forward. Give it to Beat, too. “But some people—I mean—trends are fickle. So is design. And, and I’ve had people tell me… that I’m an airhead, I’m vapid and s-self-centered and fake because I like clothes and I like how they make me look and wanting to make clothes isn’t—isn’t—well. You know.” She makes her voice high and mocking. “It’s a bad idea.”

Beat is staring at her. “What, seriously? Why? Look, trends don’t make much sense to me, but staying on top of them—making shit that a whole lotta people wanna wear—” He shakes his head. “That’s amazing, yo!”

“I know,” Eri says, and smiles a little. “I… um, confession time, I guess? But I’m not too good at math. And… I— I have a lot of trouble reading. Um, anything. It’s just brain stuff.” He’s watching her, intently, and her eyes drop and skitter across the ground. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I get it. Not… getting things. If that makes sense. But that doesn’t make me—doesn’t make you—we’re not—” She struggles for the words. “I’m never going to just… Argh!”

“Nah, it’s okay.”

“It’s not, I—”

“I hear you,” Beat says, a little quieter, and Eri shuts up and looks at him fully now, scanning his face, trying to make sure he means it. He grins at her. “Rhyme says it too, and they’re plenty smart; if both of you are telling me, I guess there’s gotta be some truth to it, huh?”

“Guess so,” Eri echoes. “I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t just shut you down. I’ve been listening. I promise.” She hopes so.

Beat shakes his head. “Yeah, I know. Sorry, yo. I didn’t mean it like that. I know you wouldn’t… just, I don’t really have something I’m good at. Not like you and Shiki, or even Phones. And Rhyme, man, you should see them go, they’re good at everything. But me…”

He pauses. “I haven’t found… what clicks for me, yo.” Beat stares at the ground. “Never did, even before this whole mess. Guess I’m just a little nervous I won’t ever find it.”

“Well, I can tell you one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Listening,” Eri says, awkward, and shuffles on her feet, thinking back to last night. “Really… really hearing people. I think you understand what’s important, Beat.” She offers him a weak smile. “I’m sorry for earlier. I’m not mad at you, I didn’t mean— it’s not you. You’re fine. I just, I don’t know. Shiki cares a lot about you guys. And you always make her... she always smiles so much.” The way she trusts Neku. The way Beat will say one thing and Shiki’s eyes will light up, bright with fondness. The way the very sight of Rhyme is enough to make Shiki smile. “I wish I could do that too.”

“Understandin’ what’s important, huh?” He rubs the back of his head, looking almost bashful. “Y-you think so?”

There is a memory in the back of Eri’s mind—faint, distant, watery as a dream. You aren’t meant to be a designer and the way Shiki’s face had fallen flat, like Eri had stabbed her instead. If Eri could have listened better, maybe she would have seen it earlier. Maybe she could have understood why it hurt Shiki to hear that. And maybe, just maybe, she could have known what Shiki needed to hear instead.

“Yes,” Eri says. “I absolutely do.”

Beat smiles at her, bright and beaming. Eri looks back at him, quieter now, and for a moment she tries to see him fully. Tries to see what Shiki must see in him. He’s a kind listener. He’s brash and bold and loud. He’s got a good heart, even if he fumbles with it.

Maybe she’s got this all wrong. Maybe she really hasn’t been listening, or seeing him, the way she should. Maybe Eri can do better, be better, and take a chance to know this person who has found his way into Shiki’s life so perfectly, and see how maybe he can start fitting into hers too.

Maybe, she thinks. Maybe.

But for now, she loops her arm with Beat’s like she does with her friends, and offers him a more genuine smile. “Let’s give that Reaper girl hell,” she says, and when Beat throws back his head and whoops in agreement, fist raised, Eri taps his fist back with a grin stretching ear to ear.

And just maybe, she thinks—maybe she can do this after all.

Change the Outcome {Denki Kaminari}

Quirks, Denki Kaminari had learned very early on, had limits.

Electrification was a useful and potentially powerful quirk to have, and he wouldn’t even consider trading it for any other, but he would be lying if he said that short circuiting from overuse was an easily dealt with drawback.

He hated when he overexerted himself to the point where he went into what his UA classmates later dubbed “Idiot Mode” but there were times it was necessary. As long as he didn’t do it too often or go too far over his limit, the professionals assured him that he wouldn’t suffer permanent damage.

The villain’s suit was a sleek silver and covered them from head to toe but didn’t seem to hinder their metal manipulation quirk. Black market support items for villains seemed to be becoming more and more sophisticated, which pissed off Katsuki Bakugo, pro hero Ground Zero, who’s explosions didn’t even phase the asshole in front of him.

“FUCK!” he shouted as he landed next to a panting Eijirou Kirishima, pro hero Red Riot.

“Neither of us have even put a dent in that armor,” Kirishima said through gritted teeth as he watched Pinky and Froppy attempt a combo move to take out the villain. It was like the armor itself couldn’t be pierced by any of their quirks, the corrosive properties of acid also unable to inflict damage.

Almost immediately, the girls gave the villain a wide berth and a second later, the silver suit was encompassed in electricity from Denki Kaminari, pro hero Chargebolt. But once again, not a scratch appeared.

"Your limit is ten million volts, but my suit won't even crack until fifteen million," the villain said smugly as the blonde retreated back towards his fellow pros. "Designed with you in mind, sweetheart."

Kaminari clenched his teeth as he brushed his sleeve across the sweat gathered on his brow, trying to figure out another way that they could crack the armor.

Pinky had quickly put together her Acid Man move to try and go toe-to-toe with the villain in the meantime while he regrouped with Kirishima and Bakugo, watching Froppy and his own girlfriend continue to escort nearby workers out of the line of fire.

"You gotta push it to fifteen million,” Bakugo ground out past his grimace. “If the armor cracks, we can charge and take them out while you go stupid."

"You can't expect him to break that far past his ability!" Kirishima protested with a shake of his head, gelled spikes moving stiffly.

"I always say ten million is my limit, but I can definitely do twelve for sure without causing myself any damage. I've never pushed it past thirteen, but I'll try it,” Kaminari said, determination evident in his voice.

"Man, you shouldn't-"

Kaminari grinned. "Plus ultra, right, bro? That's what heroes do."

"I don't like this, but I can't stop you. Don't mess yourself up, alright?" Kirishima pleaded. “Your girlfriend is fired up enough to kick all of our asses if something happens.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue against his teeth in agitation. “Step in with the girls and let them know our plan. I’m putting together some grenades to use as a distraction so you’ll be able to gear up with your disc and then fry the shithead.”

“Got it,” the blonde nodded, springing back into the melee.

Kirishima watched the fight intently, trying to understand the villain’s movements so that once the armor was cracked, he could strike hard and accurate.

Bakugo worked quickly to prepare the grenades, his eyes focused until he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, a flash of blue denim growing closer.

A kid?

"Yo Red, I thought you said you got the last of the civilians on our half?! The fuck is there a kid still here for?" Bakugo shouted, gesturing towards the lanky boy in a grey beanie running towards them. Kirishima’s brows furrowed. "I did! There weren’t any-" The boy skirted to a stop in front of them, gold eyes wide in fear under wisps of dark hair that had escaped the beanie. He was panting hard, but the heroes weren’t sure if it was from running, fear, or maybe both. Before either could ask if he was alright or begin to get him out of the building, the boy started speaking earnestly.

"Listen to me, you can't let Chargebolt go so far over twelve million. If you do, he's going to short circuit himself to the point that he completely fries half of his brain and limits his quirk drastically." "Who the fuck are you to be telling us what to do?" Bakugo bit out reflexively, the boy’s words not registering at first. "Please trust me. He can't... he can't go over that limit. He'll live but he's gonna suffer and his pro hero days are over. I know what happens if he does this!" the boy insisted, looking between the two heroes in front of him. "You can see the future?" Kirishima asked, thinking the boy had a foresight-esque quirk. "Not in the way you're thinking-"

His words trailed off as Kaminari came to land near them after assisting the girls in a few of their moves while also informing them of the plan they had formed. His discs did a lot to help his aim and keep others out of the currents he put out, but he never wanted to take an unnecessary risk. "Red, GZ, we gotta strike, the girls are wearing down,” he said quickly. Then, taking notice of the newcomer, asked, “Who's the kid?"

"Chargebolt..." the boy whispered, awestruck by the sight of him.

“You shouldn’t be here, kid,” he warned, glancing back at the fight. “We’ll give you autographs after we take care of this villain, yeah? But for now, you gotta take cover while we get back in there.”

The kid grabbed his wrist tightly, stopping him from going back into the fray. “No, you have to listen to me! Don’t go over twelve million! You can’t do it or you’re going to end your career as a pro tonight!”

“What the-“

The kid ripped the grey beanie off of his head, black spiky hair springing loose as well as one bright blonde section in the front that was kinked up like a lightning bolt. Glossy golden eyes stared at him in fear.

Both Kirishima and Bakugo’s eyes widened at the full view of the younger boy in front of them. Between the eyes and the hairstyle… if the golden section were farther back on the left…

“My name is Raiden Kaminari and I know it sounds absolutely insane but I’m your son. I came here from the future to make sure you don’t short circuit yourself beyond repair tonight. Auntie always says that no one should meddle with time, but I had to do this. Please, you have to believe me!”

Kaminari couldn’t move. He’d experienced his fair share of bizarre and terrifying scenarios since starting out to become a pro hero at the age of fifteen, but the current situation may have taken the cake for both most bizarre and most terrifying.

The boy—his son?—was looking borderline hysterical as a tear finally rolled down his cheek and his body shook violently.

“You’re telling the truth,” Kaminari murmured, his heart thundering in his chest, but his intuition screaming at him that this kid was his kid.

Raiden nodded furiously. “Yes, yeah, I-I am! I swear, this is all to help you! Twelve million is the limit and even trying to push thirteen so quickly… you can’t.”

“What’s your quirk, kid?” Bakugo interrupted, eyes narrowing behind his mask. He thought the entire situation was insane and too family oriented for his liking but if this kid was here, he was gonna be useful.

“E-electrification,” Raiden stuttered, intimidation causing him to shrink into himself. “Just the same as my d- as his. My limit before I short circuit is five and a half million but the effects only last for about fifteen minutes and aren’t as bad as… well, as you’re used to seeing. My quirk is regulated better because of my mom.”

Kirishima shook his head. “Man, we are not making a kid fight a villain-“

“But I’m training to become a pro hero!” he said quickly. “I’m in my second year at UA in class 2-A just like you were, and I know how to control my quirk better than most!”

“It all depends on your aim,” Kaminari cut in. “I’ve got my disc to help direct my current, but if you can’t aim then we’re gonna have a major problem.”

Raiden shook his head with a grin both Kirishima and Bakugo knew all too well. “My aim’s crap on its own, but that’s why I’ve got these bad boys.” The teen pulled out a pair of glasses similar to Kaminari’s, just a bit more upgraded, it seemed. “I should be able to lock onto your disc the same way and we can combine our currents to crack the armor.”

Kaminari considered the plan for a moment before adding, “Only go five million. We’ll hit with seventeen million between us and nobody will even come close to short circuiting, got it?”

Kirishima’s eyebrows rose slightly, the concerned tone in his friend’s voice sounding distinctly paternal.

“I can do that,” Raiden agreed, slipping the glasses on.

“Toss the hat back on, too,” Bakugo ordered. “We’re going to make our strike from over there where there’s more coverage. Kid, you’re staying out of sight and busting out your sparks from right behind this dumbass so it looks like its all coming from him. We don’t need to explain this future kid bullshit to anyone else. Once that armor is cracked, it’s all on me and Red.” He looked between the three in front of him and when he saw no objections, he turned to begin his trek towards cover. “Let’s move! Pinky, Frogger, and your baby mama have been in the thick of it long enough.”

Kirishima laughed at the sputtering attempt at a protest Kaminari tried to form and the bright red blush on Raiden’s cheeks at the mention of his mother.

The four regrouped behind the covered point near the corner of the warehouse where the battle was taking place, Raiden sticking close to Kaminari. Bakugo surveyed the situation from his vantage point for a long moment before a feral smirk overtook his features. He turned back to the three behind him, tossing a still-pinned grenade between his gloved hands.

“Show time, boys.”

He leapt out from behind their cover and unpinned three grenades in rapid succession, his aim as he threw them flawless. Flanked by Kirishima, he let the villain become more concerned with them on the other side of the warehouse so that their back was to the two electric users.

Kaminari turned to Raiden. “I’m climbing this cargo and launching the disc, so when you hear me call out my voltage, lock on and let loose. But remember, only five million, okay?”

Raiden nodded, and the older blonde quickly scaled the wooden cargo crates to stand tall and launch out the white disc to attach itself to the back of the villain’s armor.

“Twelve million volts!” Kaminari shouted out, his hands extended into finger guns to guide the electricity right towards its intended target. He could see additional currents going towards the disc, thankful that Raiden was able to lock onto the target even with the upgraded glasses.

The villain cried out as their suit was hit with the electricity and each of the pro heroes couldn’t help but smile as the seemingly impenetrable silver suit began to crack beneath golden sparks.

“All yours, Red, GZ!” Kaminari called as the flow of electricity died down, the other two pros jumping into the villain’s space to break him down further so an arrest could be made.

He climbed back down off of the cargo stack, jumping the last meter to land on his feet beside the younger boy still vibrating with excitement. Dusting his hands off on his pants, he smirked.

“You did great, kid.”

Raiden’s face split into a wide grin. “This is seriously the coolest thing I’ve ever done! I know I didn’t really, like, do much battle-wise but I just helped take down a villain! With you! Seeing you in action and-and-and being able to fight alongside you is… it’s insane!”

Kaminari smiled fondly at the boy in front of him, his chest feeling warm at seeing him so happy.

“I’m glad you came to help,” he said honestly when the boy’s excited rambling ended. “You said… earlier you said you came to prevent my hero career from ending. If I had gone for the fifteen million on my own, what would’ve happened?”

“Well, you would’ve short circuited,” Raiden began cautiously. “But going too far over your limit so fast caused permanent damage to the point where mom told me that you were in the hospital for a week with the effects of short circuiting. She always said that it was the worst week of her life because I guess before you would give like a thumbs up? Like, saying you were okay, she said, but that week, you barely moved. She stayed with you and you babbled and cried… she only talked about it a few times.”

Kaminari felt sick to his stomach imagining the effects going for that long. When it happened, he was stuck in his head and couldn’t really speak, only able to gesture and give vague noises to indicate that he was alright or if he needed something. For an hour, it could be funny for his friends and family and even he got a good laugh hearing about his own antics, but God, an entire week?

“After a week you were able to speak and get back to normal, kind of,” Raiden went on. “Mom told me she cried for the first time during the whole situation when the doctors came in to tell you that you’d overdone it so badly that you’d caused permanent damage to your brain and… and your quirk. The memory loss was hard on you because a lot of it was so scattered. You’d remember a specific English lesson from UA but have no idea where you went on your first date with mom-“

Their first date was at a shitty American diner he had frequented during his middle school days in Saitama Prefecture. His shirt had been green, and hers was purple.

“-and as far as your quirk, you can only do five hundred thousand volts as of my time. That forced you into early retirement from hero work. You still did okay, though, because you started teaching at UA; took over literature from Cementoss and I know firsthand that you’re tough when you grade papers.”

“Wow,” Kaminari breathed. “Were… were any of the other pros from tonight injured too?” He spared a glance behind the cargo to see the police beginning to step in to make an arrest and the girls begin to give their statements from being the first ones on the scene.

Raiden shook his head. “No. Uncle Kat and Uncle Ei took out the villain and mom and Aunt Mina went right to you to make sure you were okay. For a long time, though, Uncle Kat blamed himself because he told you to go to fifteen in the first place. You never blamed him, of course, but I think he still carries some guilt about it.”

‘Knowing Bakugo, he probably does,’ Kaminari thought.

“I’m just happy I was able to change how tonight went down,” Raiden admitted, allowing them both a comfortable silence after he spoke.

“You mentioned your aunt earlier,” Kaminari remarked, surveying the remains of the warehouse. “If she says you shouldn’t meddle with time, I guess that means time travel or something like it is her quirk, right? But she wouldn’t help you come, so who did you get to bring you here?”

Raiden chuckled. “Auntie passed on a version of her quirk to her daughter. She and I are close just like you and her dad are. It’s cool I got to meet young him tonight too. Kinda weird to see him without the undercut and earrings, though.”

Kaminari nearly broke his neck turning to look at him. “Kirishima or Bakugo?! Dude, I gotta know!”

“You’ll find out,” Raiden laughed.

“Man, either Bakubro or Kiri land a lady with a time quirk, who’d have thought,” he mused, shaking his head when he realized how wild the future would be. “So, is your, uh, cousin around here somewhere too? Or did she, like, throw you into a portal or something?”

“Not exactly. Her quirk is called Savepoint, and basically it allows her to transport someone to the same location they were in on a certain date, but the dates can get confusing because the savepoints aren’t intuitive to her, so she has to pick a date and she’ll get to the closest savepoint from there.”

“Honestly, my brain hurts just trying to understand that,” Kaminari admitted. “Do you go back to the savepoint to go back to your timeline too?”

“Yeah, when I touch that wall over there, I’m outta here.” He hesitated for a moment before adding in a murmur, “I’m actually a little scared to go back.”

Kaminari cocked his head as they began to walk towards the wall. “Why? You saved me, I’m not gonna be your lit teacher anymore.”

“It was never about you being my lit teacher. You had to give up your dream of being a pro hero after less than two years on the job, and mom couldn’t make herself continue working as a hero when you couldn’t. I just wanted to stop the pain and the guilt you both felt. Neither of you deserved what happened to your careers and everything that came after: the nightmares you still have, the eviction notices that mom hid from you… you didn’t deserve any of it. I love both you and mom for everything you’ve done for our family and make no mistake that we’ve turned out alright back in my time, but you both deserve the happiness of living your dreams just like I’m starting to.”

Kaminari laid a hand on his shoulder, hesitating for only a moment before bringing the boy into his arms and squeezing tightly. “I don’t know how I landed an awesome as fuck son but ohmygod is future me lucky as shit.”

Raiden laughed breathily against his shoulder. “Mom is gonna be pissed you cursed around me.”

“She’ll be pissed you cursed too,” Kaminari chuckled as they released one another. “Keep the secret?”

“You bet,” Raiden nodded, beginning to walk towards the wall he had indicated earlier. He turned back one last time. “I’m happy I got to see you in action, doing what you loved. I hope when I get back that I see more of the same… dad.”

Kaminari smiled, then as the boy turned back to the wall and extended a hand, a thought occurred to him and he shouted out, “WAIT!”

Raiden jumped, startled, and turned back in confusion.

“You said that her quirk takes you back to a location you were previously in. So, you had to have been here already!”

With a mischievous grin Kaminari was sure his own mother had already seen countless times, Raiden called back, “You’ll meet me later this year!” and slammed his hand against the wall. With a quick flash of light, he was gone.

As tired as he was, and as warm as his girlfriend was against him, Kaminari couldn’t sleep. His mind was too preoccupied trying to process everything from the last six hours.

“You’ll meet me later this year!”

That stuck out to him the most. He would have a kid within the calendar year? Possible, sure, it was only mid-January, but he wasn’t married or even engaged. He loved his girlfriend more than anything, but they’d only gotten together about two years prior. Realistically he knew that part didn’t really mean anything, but he had always cared a little too much about what others would think of his circumstances. But also, where was...?

His eyes widened and if he wasn’t frozen in horror, he would have lifted the covers to look at his pajama-clad lap.

“Stop shifting so much,” he heard his girlfriend grumble beside him, elbowing him in the ribs without force.

“Sorry,” he chuckled sheepishly, tightening his hold around her waist.

“Y’should be. You’re not the one who got sent flying into a wall on the first strike.”

Kaminari hummed. “Yeah… I got pretty lucky damage-wise.”

“Well my back’s killing me,” she pouted. “More than it already has been lately, at least, so it’d be appreciated if you could stay still. Or if you’re really desperate to move, gimme a massage.”

“Oh, I’m always happy to give a massage, babe,” he said with a grin, straddling the backs of her thighs when she completely rolled over onto her stomach.

“I’m too tired for that tonight, Denki, just get those hands moving.”

“Yes ma’am!”

He began kneading her shoulders, his intent to gradually make his way further down her back as he usually did. Before he could really start, she turned to look back at him.

“Can you do more on my lower back? That’s what’s been giving me trouble the past week or so. Getting slammed back into that wall earlier tonight definitely didn’t help. Feels like really shitty cramps at this point almost.”

Kaminari froze, his hands stilling to rest on the small of her back.

Wall. Back pain. Cramps?

He never hit the wall that served as the savepoint. He hadn’t even come close to touching it. When Raiden had used it to return to his own time, he had been only a meter or two away, but that was the closest he had been.

“You good, babe?” she asked when he hadn’t moved for a moment.

He took in a breath, shakily exhaling it before he spoke. “Speaking of cramps… when- when exactly is your period supposed to start next?”

“Dunno. Have to check my app,” she replied, shuffling over to her right and reaching out to grab her phone from the night table. Tapping quickly, she toggled between screens until she was on the proper app and studied it.

He considered passing out for a brief moment because of the anticipation. For once, something other than electricity was causing his veins to buzz beneath his skin.

She turned back to him once more, her voice soft as she asked, “Will you short circuit if I tell you that I’m nine days late?”

Kaminari surprised himself when he realized that no, he wasn’t going to short circuit. He wasn’t going to puke or faint or run, either.

He grinned, bending forward to wrap his arms around her waist as his forearms supported his weight over her. His chin hooked over her shoulder and his cheek pressed warmly against her own.

“Nah, I’m gonna tell you that I’m so fuckin’ in love with you, and that Raiden is a badass name for a kid.”

Let’s take a tour...

A Tour of Clyde and Sherri’s Home Close your eyes and imagine. Well, don’t close your eyes because you have to read this.

Clyde bought the cozy two-bedroom house after the last great Cauliflower scheme. Sherri moved in a few weeks before their wedding. I imagine the exterior looking something like this...

LIVING ROOM

Alright. Now, we’re in the livin’ room. Very simple: Cream walls, butterscotch oak floorin’. Navy blue sofa against the wall, matchin’ recliner beside it. Dark wood coffee table. Flat screen TV mounted on the wall. Sherri’s additions: She picked out the table under the TV. Its color matches the coffee table almost perfectly. She put framed photos on top of it (we’ll talk about those photos in a few). At one point, she’d bought a coral rug to put up under the coffee table. Right now, she’s got a white vase in the middle of the table with some artificial peonies up in it. 

Oh, she also bought a shoe rack that’s by the front door (please use that next time). And a floor lamp. Just a regular ol’ floor lamp with a silver body and white shade. Before they got engaged, Sherri strongly recommended that Clyde get some real blinds and toss those temporary shades (he did). KITCHEN/DINING  Alright, now we’re gonna walk through the living room and into the kitchen and dining area. As you can see, the kitchen has maintained a...”classic” look—the wood panelin’, wooden cupboards and shelves.This yellowed linoleum that needs to come on up. The oven and refrigerator are both black--kinda new. Sherri’s mom once asked her when those two would get the kitchen remodeled, It reminded Clyde of his Grandma and PawPaw’s kitchen. The previous owners didn’t make any changes to it, so neither would Clyde.  Now--step on inside, y’all, I don’t bite--now, as you can see, when you walk all the way into the kitchen, the fridge is pushed to the wall on your right, sitting beside a half-counter that connects to the oven. You see the counter wrapping all the way around to the door--giving Clyde and Sherri some good cookin’ space. They do other things on this counter, but that ain’t my business to tell. They love lookin’ out this window over the sink to look at the birds and butterflies in the backyard. Of course, that door leads to the back yard, but this door is right here to my right is the pantry slash laundry room.  Sherri’s additions: So, Sherri got her grandma to make these cute lil’ embroidered curtains for the window and the door. Sherri keeps sayin’ that she’s gonna learn how to sew, but that ain’t girl ain’t gonna start no time soon. Anyway, she just bought this big blender--she said it’s for smoothies, but she really wants Clyde to make her some frozen margaritas this summer. She also bought them a 12-piece Pyrex set. Now, I don’t like to stereotype men, but both me and Sherri were shocked that Clyde had so much cookware, and silverware, and a good set of dishes. I mean, the man had all kinds of nice pots and pans--even a cast iron skillet! But the thing is, the stuff was barely used. Of course, he’s always busy at Duck Tape, but one day, he told Sherri that he’d bought it all during his “Food Network phase”. Okay, to your left is their dining table. Nothin’ fancy. Let’s move right along... MASTER BEDROOM So, if y’all turn around and step outside of the kitchen and look to your left--that door right there leads to Clyde and Sherri’s bedroom. It has the same design as the living room: cream walls, butterscotch flooring. Y’all follow me inside. So, as you can see, the bedroom set is a dark wood, I guess that’s ebony or somethin’. It came with a queen-size sleigh bed, a vertical dresser, and a nightstand. Clyde could have gotten a horizontal dresser with the mirror attached to it, but he didn’t think he’d need it. He just put a floor length mirror on the back of the door. Clyde also keeps sayin’ that he wants a king-size one day--he’s a big man, you know? But he didn’t wanna overcrowd the room. To your left is the closet, where Clyde and Sherri keep their shoes; their coats; their nice clothes--you know, dresses, suits, and all that. Now, as we look past the closet, our eyes will land on the nightstand, and beside that, the bed. Clyde put the bed there so he could look up at the sunshine in the morning. Then, on the other side of the bed is the horizontal dresser with its attached mirror. Then, directly to your right you’ll see a vertical dresser. That’s a case for Clyde’s prosthetic arm on top of it. Sherri’s additions: Sherri hasn’t added much to the bedroom. Of course, she was definitely gonna need some space for her clothes, so she and Clyde went on and picked out a horizontal dresser. Sherri kinda hates it, though--because it doesn’t match the rest of the set. Clyde bought the landscape painting over his dresser. But other than that, Sherri’s only additions are her personal items, a few candles, and some extra bedding sets that she keeps in the linen closet. BATHROOM Okay, now let’s step out of the master bedroom and walk across the living room and into that tiny, little hallway. In front of us is the linen closet. To your right is another room and to your left is the bathroom. Let’s step into the bathroom, it’ll be quick. Matter of fact, don’t even step inside--just peek in. The wall is a pale yellow, the floor white tile. The sink is to your left. That’s a medicine chest on top of it--I don’t think they put those in too many new houses, these days. Of course, that’s the toilet beside the sink, and beside the toilet is the tub. That’s Clyde’s shower curtain. The mother duck leading her ducklings across a pond. He picked out these green rugs, too. Sherri’s additions: Again, all Sherri really bought to the bathroom are her personal items...and her desire to set the shower curtain on fire.  SPARE ROOM

*closes bathroom door* Now, let’s turn around. We have what’s my favorite room in Clyde and Sherri’s home. The “spare” room. I love it and they love it because it’s a space they built together. When Clyde and Sherri were dating, it was an empty room, minus a few boxes and a random lamp with a bird on it. 

Come in, come in.  So, when they were engaged, Sherri helped him sort through his boxes. Just a few boxes--three or four, I suppose. They had books; photos; stuff from his time in the military, and some of his mom’s belongings--some jewelry and a few little accessories. Clyde told Sherri that he just never got around to unpacking the boxes, but she knew that he really meant, “I wasn’t ready to unpack these boxes”. So, she didn’t push him with this one. Instead, they just put a lot of thought into what they’d turn the room into--then the stuff in the boxes would find their places.  So, finally, they decided they just turn this into an “unwind” room. Not an entertainment room, but a place to just relax, or take a nap. But as you can see, they kept the furnishing minimal--because who knows? The unwind room might have to be transformed into the Lil’ Shlyde or the lil’ Clerri room, one day. Don’t tell them I came up with those names, they’re liable to take me serious. So, I know, the first thing y’all probably noticed was the console record player right in front of you. Somethin’ about the scritch and scratch of some vinyl just puts you in a different kind of mood, don’t you think? Up against this back wall is a modular sectional. Clyde and Sherri take many a nap on this thing. Doesn’t it look cozy? I wonder what they’ll do with it if they move out...

But anyway, to your left--is a modular bookcase that houses the lovebirds’ combined book collections. Over here, under the window is a mini fridge and a tub of snacks. The unwind room turns into the “PMS” and “eat your feelings out” room, real quick! Okay, that wasn’t my business to tell.  I’d show you the backyard, but it isn’t much. It’s fenced in--that I will mention. But other than that, the yard is patchy. They have a couple of reclining lawn chairs. They don’t have a grill because Jimmy is the designated Logan Grill King, so why bother? But it’s a pretty empty backyard--nothin’ special.

So, that brings me to the end of this tour. I hope y’all enjoyed it. Please pay Clyde and Sherri a visit. They’re a lovely couple. Ask Clyde to fix you up a drink he calls the “Sherri”. I don’t know what’s in it, but I know that thang had me in their living room doin’ The Wobble one night. The Wobble wasn’t even playin’ and I was doin’ it by myself. Needless to say, he doesn’t make it for me anymore.  But anyway. Bye y’all!

i started thinking about that gay bastard oc of yours. platano. can u tell me about him

omg u wer thinkgin about platano..... mr banana man... mr 4011. i am obsessed with the banana code srry i just got back from work (it was good :-D)

any way. um. im going below the cut. he kidnaps people and he murders people and i hate him because he’s also a massive weeb so. hm

HISTORY OF PLATANO... yea his name is spanish for banana

his father, pablo, will probably get a name change someday but i literally never think of his father since the only thing he did in platano’s backstory was disappear 

since platano’s world has characters based off like. fruits and vegetables (there aren’t really any limit to what the characters are based off of. it was in my lazy google translate name phase so we have like... a gay character named arcenciel who becomes dadlike through my powerful canon-changing touch. also arcenciel wears the colors of the rainbow as often as he can i haven’t figured out a good design for him since i’m not used to using more than 5 colors. he also owns a hat factory)

i think arcenciel and platano are friends they met when platano was like. 17 probably and arcenciel would be around uhhhhh ummmmmmm 21??? idk man but in canon he’s probably around 30 . yes i m saying “in canon” because i wrote a really dumb and horrible story back in 2018 arcenciel used to have HUGE internalized homophobia and i turned that into a running joke and i dislike that so that’s a reason why i’m not sharing the fun little story i wrote for my friends

(the best part of that story is when arcenciel threw his light-up rainbow heelies at platano, thus starting the boss fight which the main cast LOST.)

ok back to the topic at hand. platano.

i have a whole doc named platano where i just wrote drabbles about him so i’m going to summarize them

the first one was his friend, percisi (my only cishet oc he’s very short and very aggressive while also dressing in a soft-colored turtleneck since he’s based off of peaches) using a misunderstood form of satanism to summon satan. guess what percisi and platano summoned satan for. it was a manga update! wow

i won’t say the mangas name it was an inside joke

so platano was like “hey satan can i have this manga now please please” and satan went “sure just kill people for me” 

that determined platanos job for the next 7 or so years <3 wonderful. 

(it was basically me writing a backstory for a scene to happen in the main writing i wrote for my friends. he killed someone because someone else in the building was trying to summon satan. very confusing but okay i guess.)

i think right after that i wrote about platano meeting his boyfriend, sage, for the first time. i have horribly mixed feelings about their relationship since it’s very. Hm.

so platano kidnaps people to watch anime with him because all his friends left him and his best friend, mangue, is too busy being a dictator over the Land of the Fruits. i shit you not fruits oppressed the vegetables. i wrote that dynamic between the two because i was learning about the revolutionary war in US History. something like that at least

(the Land of the Fruits is not the official name)

on the topic of kidnapping people. guess who his favorite person was. sage. it was sage. so he tried to take sage often but they probably discussed Proper boundaries since everyone else tried to run away. hmm i am now going to write a bit right now 

“Platano,” Sage started. “Why do you keep kidnapping me? It’s rude and I hate it.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” The yellow-haired fool leaned on his sword, digging the tip deeper into the ground. 

“ASK ME IF I WANT TO HANG OUT??” 

“I can do that?”

“You keep making my dads worried.” Sage looked around the area, fidgeting with his hands. 

“Oh. Okay. Want to hang out? Watch some anime?” Platano paused for a moment, but managed to say “Maybe kiss?” before Sage got to answer.

“I- KISS??? We can watch anime together. We can go now.” 

Sage ushered Platano through a portal as fast as he could. 

His dads were never worried.

hmmm maybe that’s alright idk i’m a little tired so it’s probably a little out of character. sage probably isn’t that loud but i think it was trying to be the dynamic of “oh, we’re not dating” when they kiss every sunday at 5 pm by a romantic river scene 

he’s a character who is, at his very core, horrible and bad. he is portrayed in a way i DESPISE but i’m too lazy to correct it. his interest in sage actually started with me going “hmm i think platano would draw sage like this” then sauce giving me fun facts about his oc, sage, yea sage is sauce’s oc <3 epic win . so sauce gave me fun facts about sage and i was like “time to doodle these in platanos ‘art style’” when in reality it’s just the mockery of people just getting into an anime art style, with the chin so pointy it could cut a cake 

i might reread my old writing from 2018. i gotta agree with the judges for that year i did not write very well

it mightve actually been made in 2017 which would be FUCKIN CRAZY im gonna check rn 

yea it was started in 2018. february 14th... huh . finished it completely in june of that year it was 41 pages total and it’s not even double spaced how did i write something without double spacing it

OH MY GOD BOB IS GOING TO HIJACK THIS RANT JUST FOR A LITTLE

so bob is a fluffy little anthro cloud with a grey top hat and bowtie. he is amazing. i love bob. bob is another one of sauce’s character and mangue (mentioned earlier) was made by my friend jamie 

(you can always ask for their tumblrs but i’d ask them if its okay to share their tumblrs. i might just look at them and reblog their stuff cuz i like their art!!! maybe jamie posted a drawing she made recently on her blog but tbh i don’t think she would she’s more of a twitter user)

ok so im skimming thru UMG which is the story it stands for “Universe of Magic Gardens” and it was originally made for a prank on ponytown so people would go “what’s UMG” and my friends and i would be like “ur mom gay xDDDDDD” or something like that . horrible but i’m glad i’ve changed from . that.

here’s a bit i actually like AKLJFISJFIO

“What the actual FUCK, Ilkie?!” Arcenciel cringed in fear. “Put it back- it’s too ugly.” He pointed at Platano, whose arms were crossed. 

why is it bolded. anyway.

i just saw a part where eau used y’all... water cowboy moments <333 i really need to make refs for all of those old characters. all of my umg-related characters have to be my oldest-living ocs. 

i cant believe this is making me genuinely reread my old writing just to go “WJHFSIDAJKSFIOJ WTF????” 

some of the lines on it sound like something you would hear on like. a school bus or somethin 

looking at umg like “wtf how did i add so much Meat to this writing” bc most of my writing now is mostly quotations to progress the story (like the quickie i wrote earlier. i could add meat to it but im  tired lol)

OK THIS IS MORE GENERAL BUT MY FAVORITE THING ABOUT THIS WAS WRITING HAIKUS FOR PORTALS. after you visit a place enough times it’s kind of just an instinct to open a portal there so you don’t have to recite a haiku 

uhh ok here’s another bit becuase im feeling like living la vida loca.  ur biggest regret should be “can you tell me about him” by this point bc i’ve written too much to go back now

He landed on his face once he was outside of the hat. Meko quickly walked over to the guest room, opened the Portals for Dummies book, and flipped to a page. It looked devious.

“Banana, mango,

Each tasting amazingly.

A taste of evil.” 

Meko did the dance on the page, it consisted of something that looks like it’s from an anime. A portal opened, the familiar scent of bananas and mangoes coming from it. With some hesitation, Meko stepped in. He quickly made it so only his head peeked in.

it wasnt bolded this time but i like it bolded. ok i understand how i added meat it was just shitty expired meat ALKFSJSHDAIUJKFEIODSJAK . it wasnt even that much meat DAMN. it just looked like more.

actually that’s all i will write. i could  do more w platano but yea at his base he is a blonde twink who kills people because he wanted a manga but now he’s friends with a dictator. woo! wow. amazing character writing. i cant wait to get motivation to rewrite everything and make platano a good villain (he will still be very interested in anime sadly. idk why around that time i liked making characters who were obsessed with anime i didn’t even watch it much myself. i think it was because i wanted to put capes on them)

LIANA LIBERATO / CIS FEMALE — don’t look now, but is that saige beaumont i see? the 21 year old criminal psychology / linguistics student is in their sophomore year and she is a rochester alum. i hear they can be blithe, energetic, evasive and irrational, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet she will make a name for themselves living in murphy’s beach homes. ( james. 20. est. she/they. )

snjdfg these took so long i’m so sorry but anyways please LIKE and i’ll slide into yr IMs for plots !!

TW DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, IMPLIED ABUSE, ADDICTION, HIT & RUN.

a e s t h e t i c s

stick n’ pokes at 2am – when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they’re bad luck and they’ll break your mother’s back – even if your mother doesn’t love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song – one that’s got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven’t taken down. it’s may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

general info !!

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): n/a so give her some uwu

b.o.d. - july 7th, 21 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: bisexual w/ a very slight preference towards masc-presenting folks

pinterest

stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert beaumont, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

saige never believed she was created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire, molded to their will.

it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning the cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years.

kept on a short leash, homeschooled, and learning skills she had no interest in – she was more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she felt restrictively tethered to her parents.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends – saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

running from bodyguards (nannies, in a sense. her father is a paranoid man) into festival crowds and climbing out of windows in the dark of night to swim in lakes with locals she’d meet only a few hours earlier – she absorbed as much of what she could get; this intense, undying love for a world she had always craved to see.

it was the start of something near dangerous – a phase that seemed to never end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. the bad sort of crowd was the crowd she found herself landing, more often than not – introducing the sheltered girl to a world she hadn’t quite known existed

she ran away, briefly, at age fifteen with a man three years older than her – which nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though the guilt of her parents’ disappointed weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism – it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it – she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either – but, by some chance – and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of life, next thing she knew, she was a student at lockwood university.

she was involved in a getaway chase from an armed robbery at a bank which then turned into a hit-and-run in washington when she was on the brink of turning eighteen. it was a situation she had no control over, not knowing her role in the scheme until it was too late to turn back. the victim survived but saige’s family has been paying the medical fees since then. her parents haven’t spoken to her since.

ever since the accident, saige has avoided causing too much trouble - generally staying out of headlines and tabloids, partially in fear of her parents finally cutting ties, and partially in fear of doing something that’ll cost another person their life.

personality !!

bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s got so much fucking energy on her – she goes running every morning and every night and swims like every afternoon and she’s n e v e r tired ?? the personality of a coke bottle shaken up but like if the bottle could laugh.

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes–reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

if she wants to do something, she will do it and there’s not much you can do to stop her tbh. she’s very easy-going, very go-go-go, very…mischievous, y’know? even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kinda just have to let her do it or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and you’ll feel ?? this weird sense of guilt ?? which isn’t the Best thing but she’s not the best person either so dfghjh

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

like…she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. she’s not disowned…like, yet, but they haven’t said more than like five words to each other since saige was eighteen and it k i l l s her but they also send her a shit ton of money every month so.

owns like…four cars…..she has them all on campus…..she prolly isn’t suppose to…but she does…one of them’s a real sleek sports car, one is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like LED lights n shit, one is the same exact fucking car from the princess diaries b/c saige is obsessed w/ the movie. the other is like. a mini cooper probably.

a photographer, her walls are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants and in general her room is very ?? cluttered ?? like it’s very home-y but god. she’s a mess. clothes everywhere. she’s probably got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies on a chair in the corner that she hasn’t touched in a while

speaking of !! she has a bunch of random, like, skills ?? like knitting and sewing and cooking and three different forms of ballroom dancing, and she can definitely work a gun and a car engine except she goes thru interests so rapidly and is disinterested in most of the other ones b/c her parents forced like half of them onto her.

she plays bass guitar. she loves her bass guitar. she knows other instruments but the only ones she’ll really fidget with are her bass guitar and like, her violin. everything else she’s like ~okay~ at

got really obsessed with languages at a young age and started learning them ?? her mother is like. super french, like genuinely from france, so she already grew up speaking both english and french but she’s learnt others for the hell of it and she’s still learning like three other at the same time which is a MESS but she’s a mess so like can u blame her sdfghj

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like…quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly – she’s rarely sober.

a budding alcoholic because she’s convinced that without it she’ll be Miserable and Horrible to everybody because she’s a Horrible, Awful person who is the absolute Worse and if drinking vodka mixed in with 23 crystal lite packets helps with not thinking like that then she’ll do it no questions asked

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by … the situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she loves so much. she loves everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either. if ur a shitty person/come off as an asshole then she’ll be more likely to be attracted to her b/c shes Always been like this. finds them super interesting which is ?? questionable ?? sometimes i want to just. knock some sense into her but y’know what…it’s fine we’re Fine

she gets around p frequently but is also the type of person who’ll like, try n maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with b/c the idea of having regrettable encounters is smth that Bothers her and she just pretty much refuses.

it’s honestly a bit of a problem ?? she blurs the lines between friendship and Something, Anything More too often and with too many people b/c she just. wants to be loved. but there is never enough !

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

uuuhh her mom sends her like…prototypes of things she designs n shit that isn’t out yet and saige 100% always gives it away or it sits in her closet and essentially that is her go-to gift for birthdays or christmas or whenever she feels like it

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

and just in general, like, people she’s p close to ?? she’s really friendly and is the kind of girl who’d be really popular in high school but doesn’t care abt popularity n talks to literally Everybody like she’s known them all her life.

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, where they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like…she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

…somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

the drug dealer she keeps sleeping with even though she can just … pay for her shit. b/c it’s funner this way !

just … people where their like … relationship status is Blurred and it’s like, are they a thing? are they not? b/c she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to !

please. take her. give me connections.

Man of Medan: AKA Let me Throw my Money at your Face Supermassive

It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these little analysis things, and I doubt this one will be very long (just kidding I lied), but I’ve been playing Man of Medan, the first episode of the new “Dark Pictures” anthology by Supermassive games, and I think you can tell by the title exactly how I feel about it.

(As a note, I will be discussing the contents of the game, so SPOILERS ahead)

First of all, let me just start by saying that I am a huge fan of horror in general, but especially of horror anthologies. There’s just something about the format that fits in so well with this particular genre, one that is often more about eliciting a certain kind of emotion or feeling from the audience vs. any grand character studies or morals to be shared. Don’t get me wrong, those things are great as well, as a writer becoming known for my massive amounts of character (a large number of which I kill off) I understand entirely. But horror in particular is a genre best encapsulated by its brevity. The shorter and more visceral it is, the less you have to explain, and often the more terrifying or thought-provoking. 

Another benefit of the anthology format is the ability to explore a larger amount of ideas in a shorter amount of time. And horror is of course, all about its ideas. So the instant I heard that Supermassive was going to create a series of shorter horror stories in the format of its previous game “Until Dawn” I was immediately excited. I held back a little, holding onto the fear that sequels are often worse off than their predecessors, and that lightning doesn’t often strike twice. I am pleased as punch to admit that my caution was entirely unwarranted.

Keep in mind, I have never actually played “Until Dawn”. I have seen two different Let’s Plays of it, but I feel as if I can’t truly judge a game without actually having played it myself. That’s kind of the purpose of a video game. Thusly I will not be making a whole ton of comparisons between the two works, but rather discussing “Man of Medan”, or MoM as I will abbreviate it as, on what I have observed and its own merits.

However, the one point of comparison I will have to make is between its two “framing devices,” mostly because I think it’s interesting to compare these two with the themes of their respective games. Until Dawn had a psychiatrist character, and many of its themes were related to the characters and their interpersonal relationships. I think people who claimed that the “choices didn’t actually matter that much” in the game were incorrect, as the choices weren’t so much based on how the story went moreso than how many characters made it out and how their relationships with each other changed. 

A lot of this theme of character interaction carries over to MoM, but at the same time I feel like there’s a much larger emphasis put on the concepts of the tales, as horror anthologies are wont to do, and the plays and twists on tropes that the creators can make. Thusly, MoM trades out the psychiatrist for the Curator. I will say that personally, I like the Curator better as a character. The psychiatrist was meant more to scare you, whereas the Curator has a deeper sense of disquiet to him. It’s more subtle, and it shows that while MoM does have a lot of “jump scare” moments to please the masses, it also contains that hint of genuine creativity and understanding of its genre. Also, for those of you who read Ede Valley, I think it will be obvious to you why I like this character so much. Or maybe not quite yet.

On the topic of its creators, I was incredibly impressed with the writers’ understanding of tropes and their uses in Until Dawn--I always hated when people complained that its characters were “weak” or “annoying” because once again, they completely misunderstood the creators’ intentions--and Man of Medan continues to impress on that front. To be fair, my friend (an actor) and myself (a writer) were able to guess what was really going on within about ten minutes of the game’s beginning, but even with that knowledge, it was still utterly fascinating for us to go through the game and seeing what the creators did with it.

Have you noticed that all of the characters see different things? (Special thanks to @allimiece for pointing this out.) Alex and Brad see pretty generic things, but Julia (who is unsure of her relationship) sees Alex trying to attack her, Fliss (who is relatively superstitious and cautious) sees cults and rituals, and Conrad, most interesting of all, has his own hornyness turned against him in the form of a pretty pinup girl turning into an ugly crone and hunting him down.

I am sincerely impressed with the amount of thought that went into the writing of this tale. As with its predecessor, these characters are not the smartest people. They are a little older than their wendigo-chow counterparts, in a slightly different phase of their lives, but still kind of idiots. But that’s the point. Sure, there’s some incredibly cheesy lines here or there, but all of it is done with this knowledge of “yeah, we know this is really stupid too. Look at this fucking idiot. You wanna kill him, right?”

But not only that, I am even more impressed with the thought and care that went into absolutely every detail of this game. I decided to go and watch some of the small featurettes that came with the game, as I’ve always been a sucker for behind-the-scenes stuff. This is actually what prompted the writing of this essay. Because in those featurettes, the creators talked about the amount of thought and love that went into every aspect of the game, down to hiring a costume designer and getting swatches for the Curator’s potential clothes, down to the details on his fucking desk and the hours of thought about the lighting in his repository, and I was utterly astounded (and honestly a little cowed, I wish I could write some of my stories with as much effort). 

I’ve always held the belief that if you put a lot of love and a lot of effort into a work of art, it will really show. And sometimes this will elevate a work from great to stellar, and now if I ever need a ready example of this, I can point to Man of Medan. You can truly tell that everyone involved with this project really cared about what they were doing, and about making something truly great, and every second of screentime just bleeds it.

I’ve played through the game about 2 and a half times now, once in multiplayer, and once in single, and it ran so smoothly and wonderfully and I only ever experienced a few minor graphical glitches (which are slightly worse in the multiplayer, but that’s most likely out of Supermassive’s control). Even my friend who is a professional business man was highly impressed with it, so much so that he was wondering how much money it would take to buy Supermassive (keep dreaming, Wimdy, keep dreaming).

So yeah, Man of Medan is absolutely fantastic and if you haven’t experienced it yet, you should really just go buy it. It’s available on Steam for only $30, and is worth every penny. I understand that it’s very easy to simply go watch Lets Plays, especially of games that play mostly like movies such as this one, but Supermassive is not a huge AAA studio. They certainly don’t get the sales figures that say Call of Duty or even Assassin’s Creed receives. So if you can, please, please go support them in any way you can. MoM is an incredible game and I’m so excited to see what they come out with in the future.

(Also, Allimiece and I are so excited for Little Hope. The Crucible is our shit and we are over the moon about it!)

Hold Onto Your Butts: I’m Coming Out

     Oftentimes, when I look back at myself, it seems like who I am now is the product of a coalition of different people all taking control of my life for different periods of time. Who I am now and who I once was are, at times, unrecognisable, though a number of central things about me remain. I can remember writing stories when I was six years old, imagining characters and a world vastly different from my own. I have pictures of myself in a purple velvet leotard at ballet, and in pink lipgloss at my first orchestra concert playing in an elementary school cafeteria. These are the big ones that come to mind, but sometimes, it is very difficult for us to look back and understand how the smaller things have snowballed over time. For me, these include trust issues that have accumulated from constant moves, a changing world, and the selfishness of humanity that seems so new to me. Another one is my adoration of classics, which began during the Scholastic Book Fair at my school, when my English had finally gotten good enough to read the popular “Goddess Girls” series, which has led me, almost a decade later, to pursue that sort of thing as a career. 

     Some things, however, are even more difficult to understand, let alone recognise. With the increasing attention of the general public to the inner workings of the LGBT community, especially with understanding gender on a global stage, this allows a place for a personal reflection of my own self and how I feel and how I want to be perceived and, in some ways, how happy I am with the body I was born into. For me, those questions have been incredibly difficult to answer. The way I see them and myself has changed many times over the years, and, though it seems backwards, has become more confusing to me the more I learn about what gender truly is and how I choose to define it for myself. 

    When I was little, my hair didn’t grow much. It is wild, Greco-African, and my white adopted mom had no idea what to do with it, so we left it to it’s own design, and it made like unkempt undergrowth. In my second grade class, I remember my teacher splitting the class in groups or halves in different ways, sometimes by eye colour, birth month, patronymic name, and, occasionally, length of hair. In that case, all of the girls were on one side, and all of the boys, plus myself, were on the other. My mother complained to the school once I asked her if that made me a boy, or less of a girl. What I couldn't articulate at the time, and haven’t been able to until recently, is that I never saw it as a degrading or empowering thing. It is just how things were and just who I was, and I didn’t think more of it than a cisboy about being a boy or a cisgirl about being a girl.

     There are hours, days, months, where I feel trapped in my own body, out of place distinctly not who I am. I look at government forms and don’t know how to label myself. I see transmen’s transition diaries and I wish that could be me. I look at ancient statues of men both virile ( The Antinous Braschi ) and dumpy ( any visual art of Socrates ) and I know that I would be happy with bodies like theirs. My schedule of ballet classes includes classes with the men just as they do pointework. I think of men, and I include myself. Yet, at the same time, I take a lot of pride in my femininity and the parts of me that are distinctly womanly, whether they be from my physical self or from within. There is power in me that comes from feeling effeminate, and the history of women is something that instills a great sense of identity and belonging in me. A great part of me takes solace in my desire to be masculine and in the ways that I am masculine. Another part of me is quelled by my feelings of femininity. This is all well and good, and many people can relate, but the issue is that these parts are not created equal, not all the time, and the presence of both is dominating in my scholastic, artistic, natural, and spiritual life. 

     For so long, I thought of transgenderism as an ensnaring commitment for me, in which fulfilling my view of myself as a man meant that I would have to sacrifice my femininity, or to stay a woman would mean lying and suppressing a large part of me for the rest of my life. I didn’t want to do either, so I ignored it. Which, as it turns out, is also not a great thing to do. I faced a manic number of years going through reinventions and obliterations of myself as I tried to force myself into a binary I knew would never make me happy. I bullied myself with the words of ignorant people with my own form of “self - help conversion therapy”. I told myself it was a phase. I told myself I was just doing it for attention. I told myself that I was making this all up, and that there are only two genders, and that I was between the phase of committing to being a transgender man or just staying a woman. I told myself to just settle for what I have because I’m beautiful and because it’s easier to just stay put and that it’s safer to stay put, and that, if I’ve already lasted this long ignoring these strange wills, I can live the rest of my life like this too.

     I found myself a few months ago taking a myriad of “Am I Transgender?” and “What Should My Gender Be?” and “Am I Nonbinary?” quizzes, as if cisgender people need to validate their gender so many times. The last time I did something like that, I was asking if I was a lesbian, and here I am, a decade later, still liking women. For some reason, I didn’t (or more accurately wouldn’t) put those pieces together. I would lie on some of the tests, seeing two answers for each question. One answer described, albeit shallowly, how I felt. The other answer was perfectly how I wanted myself to feel. One allowed for dynamic personality and the room for me to feel comfortable, and the other sought to place me in a box. Some tests came back saying I was distinctly male or distinctly female, and these were only a temporary comfort. Some tests came back saying that I exist out of the gender binary. And somewhere along the way, I figured that lying to myself or denying myself was no longer going to get me the answers that I wanted, so I started to research. 

     Instead of telling myself that I was nothing more than an attack helicopter who would never be taken seriously, I started reading articles and hoping that they would reassure me, in a healthy way, that I was simply cisgender and trying to protest societal norms. Considering this post, I’m sure you can assume that the effect they had on me what the exact opposite of that. Instead, they taught me about the history of gender across numerous societies and its presence in nature, as well as what gender means in a practical sense, and how to find what it means in a self - centric sense. As strange as this sounds, the most prominent and most important thing that my research gave me is validation in my confusion. I hardly understand how I identify myself; there is no word to encompass me and my identity entirely, but, in real life, there are no labels like that. We have broad ones, such as being transgender, being a student, being an American, but those experiences are different and beautifully undefined (You may have noticed an influx in my use of this word in my writing, in fact, as it has shifted for me from being something to be afraid of to something take refuge in.) for everybody. I don’t have all the answers about myself, but nobody has the answers for themselves either. To want to conquer those mysteries is to not want to enjoy youth, or enjoy life, or enjoy the intricacies of humanity and the human experience as a whole. 

     Some days are better than others, some days are filled with confidence and pride in my diverse self, and others have me feeling out of place and lost. The hardest step in this journey has been being able to come out to myself. I had a very distinct idea of who I was, and deviating from that and re-examining that meant being unsure and admitting that I am not as strong as I like to present myself as. I revel in the good days, and in the bad days, I remind myself that I should be happy with my confusion and my vulnerability; I am too dynamic and too broad to ever fit in a box. I don’t know how I define being nonbinary yet, but I have a long time to figure it out. And in the meantime, I know where I belong, I know who my friends are, I know where I want to go, and I know who I want to be, and that’s more than enough for me. <3

TL;DR

     I would like it if you referred to me with they / them pronouns and any variation on the name Frankie you want. Gendered terms of endearment like “gal”, “bitch”, or “bro” are just fine. I’m begging you not to treat me any differently akdakjdsa