#this is from twitter i made this after i forced my beloved friends to listen to me scream on discord for 3 hours | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thesolferino · 3 years

Text

Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!”

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.”

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?”

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.”

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet?

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend.

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes.

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you.

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?”

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed.

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up.

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks.

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought.

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him.

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in.

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him.

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well.

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you.

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend.

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?”

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister.

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!”

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you.

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out.

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him.

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else.

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though?

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place.

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room.

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home.

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls”

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right”

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait.

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend.

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin.

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones.

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?!

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown.

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream.

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway.

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive.

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it.

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people.

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?”

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?”

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.”

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.”

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should.

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well.

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.” you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.”

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.”

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good.

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good.

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you.

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you.

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand.

“What?”

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it.

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty.

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it.

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was.

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it.

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning.

“Kiss me.”

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.”

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good.

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes.

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad.

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken angst #dream x reader #dream x you #dreamwastaken x y/n

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stylistiquements · 3 years

Text

Day 1 : Soap Bubbles.

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist}

𐐪𐑂 Summary : You're being introduce to the internet in a peculiar way, it's up to you to decide what you're going to do with it.

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.4k | W: written part underneath

𐐪𐑂 Warning : very few swears

Masterlist | Previous | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

The coffee that sinks inside your stomach brings out a grimace and a click of your tongue where the taste stains; too bitter, too acidic but you’ll drink it anyway and to the last drop; there is something about the idea of spending time with three best friends that is so made of spring and honey that you wish to miss none of it.

“Someone is lurking,” George contemplates out loud, and the call goes silent for a second as if to look for the intruder. And it would so easy to flinch, to hit the back pedal, because you almost feel like one being exposed front stage like that. But today- today is not that day.

It's not that you don't want to join the discussion, it's that it takes a second to warm up, to absorb the energy and become one with it.

And sometimes, all it takes is Sapnap to exclaim, “Panini head, my beloved!” for your smile synchronizes with his chuckles. Somehow, once noticed by the right person, life flows back naturally.

George and Dream greets you in trailing unison, like two kids forced to greet their unwelcomed aunt on a sunday afternoon.

“H-hey troublemakers,” you finally say. Your voice is still quiet, not reluctant, but rather uncertain. It doesn't bother anyone.

“I’m beating Dream’s ass at chess and he’s bitter,” Sap explains, and you silently nod, as if they were able to see you.

A long silence follows along, rythmed by clicks of mouses and keyboards and it falls in your ears like high droplets. It's comfortable. It's intimate, shared with friends only.

"We haven't heard from you in a while," Dream says. "I mean ... before the clout fiasco."

You wouldn't exactly call it a fiasco, even though you don't really like the idea of being perceived a little too closely from the eyes of twitter.com, but you do agree anyway, "I've been caught up on college essays lately."

"That sucks," George probably adds.

“Good thing you’re here, then,” Dream notes, simple as a breath. “This is a worry-free zone.”

It hovers for a second, carried by George’s approval hum.

You squint suspiciously, detective mode, at the profile pictures that light on and off before your eyes, “Thanks, dream.”

He scoffs a “sure” and you’re not sure why you sense a bit of irony stuck on the back of his teeth. You're so tempted to call him out, but you don't. Instead, you write a mental note of this odd moment.

“It’s because I told him about your three brothers and now he’s scared they’re gonna find him and kick his ass,” Sap explains as if he just read your mind.

Sometimes, there’s this thing in the air, though you’re miles away. Something like a connection. There’s this thing when you don’t need to talk for Sap to understand. Sharing one brain cell, you dismiss ironically. Probably coincidences and predictability, but it always sounds a little special, a little like something you’d wish to be out of this world, like morning dew and fairy circles. And it makes you feel safe, at home, just like snuggling up in the sheets during a stormy night. Your smile washes up the sleeve of your hoodie, covered palm carefully hiding your chuckles.

“Three older brothers,” George muses, and there’s no telling if it’s something meant for you to hear. “That’s kinda scary.”

“You better be scared, one of them is probably your FBI agent,” you tease mindlessly, though there's nothing scary about those three grown men.

“I’m British, Bunny,” he points out. Whether the exasperation in his tone is fake or genuine, that, you can’t tell, but you play it cool, grin carved so deep it almost hurts. Dream’s wheezes rise and fall in the background.

“Say that to his face then,” you outbid smirkingly after a second of silence, heels growing into the carpet to make your chair spin slowly left and right, so breezily.

“I’d praise you for the rest of my life if you-Oooooooh your ass is wacked. Your ass is so wacked, dude. You fucked up so bad,” Sapnap chokes out between strings of giggles.

“Oh no, my streamer is losing his game?” You theatrically pout. “My streamer Dreamwastaken, have you met him? Guess you don’t need any of my brothers to kick your ass.”

“Okay yeah- no- it’s not my fault if your- they’re distracting me, okay?” Dream defends.

Slowly, the energy lowers again and the call remembers peace as Dream admits defeat.

“I’m not playing against you anymore,” he mumbles through greeted teeth, your hoodie shelters a muffled giggle. “Let’s talk about y/n’s twitter fame instead.”

“Let’s just not-” you mutter, both because seeing Dream lose at something is a miracle that has to be witnessed once and because you’re somewhat reluctant. “Let’s just not talk about that.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had no idea it would draw this much attention to you,” Sap admits.

“Well, you talk about her all the time it was only a matter of time before twitter finds out,” George taunts and you secretly smile, listening to the way your best friend tries to defend himself, mind flooded with the last memories you have of when you were able to see those chuckles for real.

“Yeah, Quackity already told me you guys talk behind my back,” you fakely muse. “That’s totally fine, I don’t wanna know what you guys are talking about at all.” It’s a lie, obviously, the idea creeps upon your mind with assumptions you can’t quite get a grip of nor let go.

“You and Quackity talk?’ Sapnap asks, hint of surprise, and you hum.

“Or rather, he talks to me. He keeps calling-.” Shit. The forsaken word traps itself into your mouth. It’s too silly anyway.

“Come on, just say it,” Dream pushes as if he knew too much, more than you even do, and your cheeks flush mindlessly. You don’t notice.

“Dream, quit it!” You demand.

“Quit what?”

“You talk as if you knew more than anyone did.”

“Maybe I just do,” he coos, so dream-like.

Oblivious or careless, Sapnap asks, “Is Quackity bothering you or something?”

“He-" you begin but stop to look for the right way to put it, "He triggers my flight or fight response.”

"I mean, duh," Sapnap probably rolls his eyes.

"But I like him. He's funny."

After a second of silence, George says, “Well that was unexpected.”

“Not so much, I think we’re both chaotic neutral people.”

“What is that neutral chaotic thing anyway?” Dream is confused.

Roll up your sleeve girl boss because now is your time to shine! You offer your best dream smp alignment chart to the classroom. They're speechless, but they listen carefully.

"Then you're more chaotic good than neutral. You're too sweet anyway," Sap says.

"I'd even say lawful good," George debates.

"That's because you haven't seen Bunny during her crazy cat hour."

"True," you note.

"She'll go absolutely batshit."

“What?" George burst between confusion and surprise. "We've never seen you like that."

"A lady never reveal her secrets," you retort. No one answer.

It leaves a second for your mind to enjoy peace. For your eyes to lay on c!tubbo on lawful good and think true, then on c!dream on chaotic evil and think also very true. You huff and it's like a wave; as sarcasm leaves your breath, an idea comes in.

"Sap, check your DMs," you request.

Surrounded by the evening lull, Sapnap’s laugh pops like soap bubbles, "God, you’re so stupid. Why can't you just marry me?"

“So, is it Sapnap approved?” You chuckle lightly to prevent Sapnap’s morning fresh laugh to fill your chest and leak everywhere.

“Just press ‘send tweet’ please,” he confirms with leftovers of a smile in his voice.

"George, get me out of here. They're doing it again," Dream whines.

"Doing what?" He asks, unbothered.

"Act like they're alone in the convo. Just get a room." And you don't get to stand up for yourself that you and your best friend are actually sent to another room.

"Well this one is chaotic evil confirmed," you mumble as you roll your eyes but the vibes are much peaceful, much more comfortable in here. "So ... hi."

"Hi," he chuckles in return.

Maybe that's for the best; a moment that needs to stay a little timeless, secretive and special. It hasn't happened in so long, you don't even remember the last time it did.

"I'm glad you're here. I miss you, you know?" He says, and it's hard to not feel so bittersweet about it. It's hard when longing involves a craved touch, a real smile and an eye contact. Your shoulder sinks in the chair a little harder.

"I miss you too. I'll be here soon," you promise. And soon couldn't come any sooner.

But the conversation, soft and free, will wash up any worries, as always, and you'll end up talking about everything and nothing, about streams and planned videos and college and god knows what. As long as it makes the two of you happy and smiling. Just like the old days, you'll both think and it's fair to say until the evening turns into night and night turns into fatigue.

"Are you sure you're okay about that clout?" He asks once again. "I know you don't like being exposed like that."

"Yeah, yeah don't worry too much about it. I'll try to make good use of it."

"I'm sure you will," he murmurs, but oh boy did he not know what was about to come until you two meet.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa ; @gaysludge

A/N : so first of all it has come to my attention that 129 days from now on is actually my birthday so that's a weird coincidence lol. Hi how are you guys?? welcome to the first part I hope you liked it. I'm fairly new to the mcyt community and that's the first time I write for them, so bear with me. Feedbacks are always appreciated. Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

#sapnap smau #smau #mcyt smau #sapnap x you #sapnap x reader #sapnap x y/n #sapnap series #129 days #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #sapnap fluff

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feralaot · 3 years

Text

random scouts hcs!

I did a post like this for the warriors my beloved (here) and people seemed to like it so here's one for the scouts :) had some input from @afrival for this one luv u

no warnings I think

eren

if he had twitter he would have a vaporwave bart simpson profile picture and tweet lil peep lyrics. also uses way too many hashtags

he's scared of snakes and hates armin's ball python

his eyes are probably crusty as hell and mikasa has to wipe em for him because he won't

when he's losing an argument he goes "ooh you wanna kiss me so bad" and it always escalates things but he doesn't stop

almost exclusively wears american eagle

"what's a pronoun".mp3

uses the 💯 emoji in every other text message he sends

armin

sends his friends pictures of cats cuddling/hanging out and says "me n you <3"

genuinely can't stand when people have dirt under their fingernails. he gets so mad at eren bc his nails are dirty asf and armin forces him to clean them

he calls himself sexy a lot (e.g. "that was really sexy of me")

chews on bottle caps then is like hmm why do my teeth hurt

he hates feet. toes look weird to him. nobody in his house is allowed to take their socks off

unironically uses faces like ^-^ and :3

acne :(

mikasa

she's really bad at giving advice. don't go to her for help she'll literally be like "that's tough"

probably has like 4 instagram accounts made just to follow eren

solid black profile picture and no bio

maybe now and then she'll put a my chemical romance quote on her story but that's about it, she doesn't respond to dms or anything

doesn't wash that damn scarf so it's probably stinky

sticks staples, pins, etc through the tips of her fingers for no reason other than she likes freaking people out

probably hisses at people

jean

the only possible relationship dynamic somebody can have with him is rivals to lovers

very short social fuse and has to stay home for several days after public events bc it's just exhausting

he's an introvert adopted by extroverts (connie and sasha) and has to deal with their shenanigans. truly the mom figure between the three of them

marco has to listen to him ranting about connie and sasha's foolery and doesn't have much advice to offer bc he doesn't know either

for a long time he only knew "straight" and "gay" and when he found out about the concept of bisexuality his mind almost imploded

he sighs and yawns a lot and doesn't even realize he does it. people always think he's either annoyed or tired

probably dresses like a diet e-boy. crewneck king

connie

the kind of kid in your high school gym class that wears mismatching neon clothes. bonus points if it's nike

also the most likely to start a food fight for funsies

he doesn't yell often because his voice cracks when he does and it's embarrassing

sasha and him hate cafeteria food so he always brings an ungodly amount of food in his backpack instead to share with sasha. connie's backpack is 90% food

unironically says things like "pogchamp" and "rad"

he works at zumiez and probably lives there. always rocking their latest drip

jumps up and slaps exit signs

sasha

randomly breaks into song (usually disney songs) and connie will automatically duet

manages to fall asleep in any situation. on buses, while watching movies, sometimes even mid conversation if she's zoned out enough

tried to take armin fishing one time but he almost cried because he felt so bad about it

at least reiner will fish with her though. the himbos always come through

her instagram is all pictures of fish she caught and now and then there's an awkward candid pic of niccolo

stayed overnight in a walmart one time and got away and brags about it but she won't admit it was an accident. panicked and spent the night eating snacks off the shelves to "survive"

while she's talking her voice slowly gets louder and louder and she doesn't realize it until people tell her to stop yelling

historia

pulls people by the ears to bring them down to her level

also kicks people in the shins a lot, if she's arguing with someone they'll usually keep their distance to avoid getting shin kicked

loves climbing on ymir's back and just being carried around like the little creature she is

posts inspirational quotes on her story

would definitely be a cheerleader in high school. nobody would guess a prep like her is dating some grunge girl w a pretty much opposite personality

she always has bandaids with her for some reason. if someone gets scraped she'll whip out a bandaid immediately. her friends call her "mom" sometimes

hates grilled cheese so god damn much. can't stand it

ymir

"damn I don't remember asking".mp3

is always the first one to comment on historia's instagram posts. her comments range from "beautiful my queen!!!" to "damn ma yo ass fat"

she always called reiner gay as a joke then he came out as gay and for a while she thought it was her fault

her and reiner have wlw and mlm solidarity, they're bffs for that matter

if someone tells her that her music is too loud she'll say "huh?" and turn it up

similarly if someone scolds her for something she'll go "hm? repeat that, I'm a little deaf in this ear"

"bro stfu you always tell me you're gonna fire me for being late"

levi

really really hates cooking pasta because straining the water is for some reason more difficult than it should be

"do not underestimate me, bitches"

always refuses to get his hair cut at places in shopping centers. especially walmart great clips

makes monkey noises when he sees something he likes. he started doing this as a joke to mock zeke but it evolved and now he can't stop doing it randomly

will not hesitate to knock someone on their ass if they're talking shit

coffee makes him jittery so he drinks tea instead but won't admit to anyone that he lowkey also has a redbull addiction

hange calls him a catboy but he doesn't know what that means so he's always like "yeah" bc he thinks it means he's a cat person

hange

buys levi shoes from the kids section and doesnt tell him bc he likes them anyway

such a millennial, they say shit like "doggo" and "adulting"

"for practical reasons I don't exist. do not perceive me"

probably wants to marry mothman

levi has had to scold them on several different occasions for bringing live animals into the house

legally isn't allowed to cook bc they can and they will blow something up

goes on tipsy rants almost nightly

erwin

white skechers king

hosts barbecues in those white skechers. he talks shit about people with nile and pyxis like a bunch of gossiping middle aged fath- wait

his profile pictures on social media are probably pictures of himself taken from awkward angles with an empty expression. it's always posted like six times as well

when levi is getting Out Of Hand he'll pick him up from under the arms and carry him away like "okay, that's enough" and levi kicks around but can't escape

rubs his hands together a lot like a fly. nobody knows why he does it. what are you scheming

falls asleep on couches while watching sports games

[swinging his keys around his finger] "let's rock and roll"

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lilmissbeanie · 4 years

Text

Navigation Haikyuu Masterlist

Tetsuro Kuroo x F!Reader Song ~ In Too Deep By Why Don't We Warning - Swearing Fluff SFW Word Count ~ 1.7k

So Happy Birthday @kimi09 loves ya sugar!

Kuroo sighed as he steps through the door, he placed his briefcase down on entrance hall table and his keys in the bowl as he rubbed the back of his neck trying to relieve some tension it had been yet another long gruelling day at the office the stress of making sure everything was ready and all the deadlines were being met was starting to set in.

The apartment was dark, reminding Kuroo just how late at night it was, he felt guilty not being able to come home at a reasonable time and he knew that she had to be asleep right now. He stepped into the kitchen flicking on the lights, needing a small late-night snack before having a shower and clambering into bed.

Walking up to the refrigerator, a lazy smile crossed his face as he opened the door and found a plate wrapped in cling film, on said plate was some sanma shio yaki. She knew him so well, and god did he just fallen even more in love with her for it. Grabbing the little sticky note from the top, 'Hey, baby. I'm sorry if I'm asleep when you get home, so I made your favourite for dinner, sorry it's cold. I love you, xoxoxo.'

He chuckled threw his nose soft before slipping the note in his pocket, Kuroo didn't even care that it was cold, she had made him his favourite food. Taking a seat the breakfast bar, he picked at his mackerel while scrolling threw his phone has a catch up on what he had missed that day on Twitter and Instagram. It was the usual, Bokuto being Bokuto, he had recently gotten a pet owl that looked exactly like him and was all he post recent, well that and the Black Jackels team. Kenma posting his new streaming times, Akaashi posting book quotes and other updates of his old friends and teammates.

He wondered into the bathroom once he had finished clearing off his plate and placing it in the dishwasher. Finally, a nice hot shower will wash away the stress of the day, he was looking forward to climbing into bed and snuggling up to his beloved.

Rubbing his hair dry and the rest him he pulled on a fresh pair of boxers brushed his teeth, and lazy yet quietly wandered into the door leading to their shared bedroom, as he pushed the door open a foot or two allowing the light to slip into the room, where he found his favourite sight, curled up in the middle of the bed clutching on to a pillow, wearing his old Nekoma jersey was his high school sweetheart. Sadly the jersey no longer fitter the former scheming Nekoma captain but it swamped her, it was basically a dress on the petit girl.

He remembered the first time she wore one of his t-shirts back in their second year of high school before they, finally, got together, by finally meaning Kuroo had had a crush on the girl since the school festival in their first year. She played the 'Drops of Jupiter' by Train, he was hypnotised by the way her fingers ran over the irony keys, but when he heard her voice, and that was it he was hooked, it was like a sirens call, he wanted to listen to her sing all the time.

From that day onwards he did everything in his power to hear her voice every day at school, whether she was just speaking or he would often stop by the piano room to listen to her sing, he had never spoken to her, she was the first to talk to him, he was stood with his back to the door as he listens to melody float out the room and down the corridor. "Ya know you can come in, right?"

He heard her voice floated to his ears, his head flickered around seeing her back still turned to him her fingers still running over the keys. Kuroo cleared his throat awkwardly, as he stepped into the room, she patted the stole she was sat on motioning him to take a seat next to her. So he did. He took a seat next to her. There was the dorn of their friendship, and both their feelings for one another grow swiftly.

The day he finally got up the courage to ask her was the day they got caught in a tracheal down poor, and it was the first time she wore one fo his T-shirts, and he knew at that moment he saw her in his geeky 'In Science we trust' top that she was the girl he was going to marry, begin a family with and cherish for the rest of his life.

"I'm in love with you," He blurted out of nowhere not even five seconds over walking back into his room wearing that t-shirt as she was rubbing her hair dry, the blush exploded over her cheeks as she gawked at him.

"Tetsu, you better not be messing with me right now," She mumbled as she nibbled on her right thumbnail, he knew that was her nervous tick.

He stood up, freshly showered after using his parent's bathroom. "I'm not fucking with you Y/n, I'm so deeply in love with you." He cupped her face in his hands, "I don't even know how to explain it, it's like suffocating when I'm around you, but in a good way, I just want to express how much I love you, and it's suffocating not being able to do it. When we're apart it's like I'm overboard in the middle of the ocean, I can't swim and your the only one who can save me"

Her eyes flickered around his, seeing the adoration swimming in his gray eyes.

"I love you too," She mumbled out as she hooked her arms around his neck pulling him down into a timid kiss, his hands found their way to her hips giving a light squeeze as he kissed her back with a little more force.

"Baby are you just going to stand there staring at me or are you going to come to bed," Her gentle sleep-filled voice reached his ears bring him out of his memories, he noticed she had rolled over and looked at him with heavy eyelids. He flicked off the hallway light and used the street lights that were peaking through the curtains to guide his way to the bed like he did most nights when he finished this late, crawling in bed wrapping an arm around her and his free hand to grab her left hand placing it on his chest like he did every time before he began to fiddle with her engagement ring he slipped their not three months.

"Sorry I didn't mean to wake you chibi, you just looked so peaceful I couldn't help but stare,"

His eyes were open wide the second the two words spilt from her lips. Just like he had done all those years ago blurting out he loved her, she just let the words slip from her lips like it was the most natural thing to do.

"It's okay, I was only half-asleep," She replied, placing a delicate kiss to his jawline before snuggling her face into the crook of his neck. "I had something I wanted-" cutting herself off as she yawning "wanted to tell you anyway,"

"Go to sleep it can wait till the morning, you're so tired." He smiled, planting a kiss on her forehead, letting out a happy sigh as he closed his eyes, pulling her closer to her side as he began to dose off.

"Tetsu," He rolled his eyes at the nickname of his first name, it was rare that she used that nickname and it was normal when she wanted to tell him something, his full name well then he knows he's in the shit. He knew she was going to make sure she told him tonight, "I'm pregnant."

Kuroo unravelled himself from her as he planted one of his hands placed next to her head on the pillow as he hovered over her, looking into her e/c eyes, his other hand was resting gently on her belly, his thumb stroking the soft skin."Are you serious?" He asked, eye wide and nervous, praying she was serious.

Y/n could hear the hope and fear in his words as they slipped out. She giggled and nodded her head as she brushed his slightly damp -one of the factors his hair is the way it is- hair from his face. She couldn't help but be excited when his whole face lit up with a joyess smile of excitement, and the tears welled in his eyes, he crawled down the bed pushing the old Jersey up exposing her stomach as he began to pepper kisses all over it.

"You're going to be a daddy," Running her fingers threw his hair as he continued to litter kisses on her exposed abdomen.

"I'm going to be a father." He chocked out as the tears ran down his face.

"How far along are you?" He questioned when he finally settled back in to bed with Y/n snuggled into his side with her lwft hand placed on his chest as he hummed contently once againg playing with the ring adorning her finger.

"Three months." He smirked instantly, he remembered that night, it was the night they got engaged.

"Good night baby, I love you so much" Y/n yawned out snuggling closer to the love of her life.

"Good night chibi and lil one," He replied bring her hand up to his lips placing kisses on the back of each of her knuckles as his other thumb continuously stroking the side of his stoamch as Kuroo realised he had the girl of his dream in his arms, who he was going to make his wife and she was carrying their first child. "Thankyou, for everything my love." He mumbled into her hair, her breathing became a relaxed even pace as she had fallen asleep.

He could not be more excited to start the next step in their life together.

Marriage and Parenthood.

He couldn't think of anyone else he would rather do it with.

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#haikyuu!!#haikyuu! fluff #hq kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo testuro #Kuroo tetsuro x fem reader #kuroo x fem!reader #beanie🏐#beanie✍#beanie💕#beanie🌸#beanie🎶

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orionsangel86 · 4 years

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“I Think It’s Time For Me To Move On”

...And Other Things That Have Destroyed Me This Weekend...

So there is this common trope within love stories which generally happens at the end of the second act in which everything goes wrong and we all think that the lovers are doomed to failure. Its pretty much standard in every Jane Austen novel, every romantic film every made, every single bloody love story. Go ahead, name one. I guarantee you the break up moment is there.

Within the epic love story of Dean and Cas, there have been many break up moments, and all have had their emotionally devastating impact on the relationship and the show...

But THIS was a different level.

(For a nice summary of Destiel break up moments and understanding of this trope, @tinkdw wrote about it here.)

I didn’t think that there would be another moment within Dean and Cas’s relationship that could hit me this hard. The mixtape in 12x19, the wrapping of Cas’s body in 13x01, and the return of Cas in 13x05 are moments that I consider to be the very top of the scale in making this pairing undeniably romantic. Moments that pushed it beyond a platonic interpretation. These three moments have been the things I cling to when the show has otherwise made me doubt any conclusion to the DeanCas story, and since there hasn’t been another one of those moments since 13x05, until now I have been somewhat nervous that the story was dropped, or being forced back behind a platonic screen.

15x03 has ripped that screen away.

Emotional meta under cut...

This entire episode was an emotion fuelled dramatic roller-coaster that killed off three characters including our beloved witch queen in a scene that almost stole the show and practically canonised the SamWitch ship. Rowena’s death should have been by far the most torturous moment for viewers to endure, and it was extremely torturous and had me sobbing on a plane 3 hours into a 7 hour flight. That incredibly heartfelt moment between Sam and Rowena will probably go down as one of the top tear-jerking moments on this show. It was tragic in the best way - the way Supernatural is famous for.

But lets not gloss over the fact that in an episode where THAT should have been the climax, where THAT should have been the emotional highlight and end point, instead we get a further MORE dramatic stand off between Dean and Cas that pulled focus and ripped all of our hearts out just as violently as poor Ketch in the first act (a very clever and smug piece of meta foreshadowing there Mr Berens).

On a meta level, this is HUGE as a writing choice because they MUST know how this looks. This was the climax of the third episode of the finale season. The way Supernatural has always structured itself since Carver era is that the first three mytharc episodes of each season establish the direction of the story and set the foundations for the character level focal points and dramatic key notes to come.

That the writers have chosen to end the foundation episodes with a DeanCas break up moment that was more dramatic than a Spanish Telenovela has just stunned me and left me reeling because I just can’t see how else this can go. This break up scene absolutely DEMANDS a huge reconciliation of the sort that will be part of the A plot of the season - the FINAL SEASON. Guys. Part of the reason I have been so quiet and so disillusioned with the show during late season 13 and season 14 was because they pushed any Destiel plot into non existent territory - it became kinda irrelevant and Dean and Cas just acted like friends (homoerotic friends yes, and sometimes like an old married couple, but it was mostly played as an afterthought imo), so for this to suddenly be brought to the forefront of the emotional story again is excellent news for us.

The thing is, like with those huge moments I listed above, the break up scene is basically undeniably romantic when you break it down to its components:

1. It’s only Dean and Cas.

Once again we have another scene of high stake emotions that excludes Sam. In a platonic reading of the show, it makes zero sense for there to be such a hugely disjointed relationship between Cas and Dean and Cas and Sam given he has known them both for so long now that if they were all��“just friends” then surely Sam would also feel the impact of Cas’s choices as heavily as Dean. In a platonic reading, Dean comes across as an asshole, Sam comes across as being weirdly uncaring about his friend of 10 years, and Cas comes across as not even bothering to get Sam’s opinion before leaving. A romantic reading makes sense because quite literally THIS IS A ROMANTIC BREAK UP.

2. The words spoken.

“Well I don’t think there is anything left to say.”

“I think it’s time for me to move on”

From Cas’s perspective at least, name one time in a piece of media where such language has been used for a platonic breakup sincerely? There have been heartfelt break up songs that use these exact words. (I should know I’ve spent the last 24 hours listening to them all).

That last line in particular is so heavy. It’s the last line of the episode and nothing about it is platonic. This is relationship terminology my dudes. “I need to move on, and get over you.” This is Cas’s bloody Adele song. My heart breaks for him, but if I was his sassy and fabulous best girlfriend right now I’d be sitting him down, sipping a cocktail, flipping my hair and telling him “Babe, you’re too good for him. Good Riddance. Let’s go out, have some cocktails, something pink and fruity. No dive bars for us darling. I’ll take you to Heaven... the fun one in London.”

In all seriousness though, from Cas’s perspective, this was him admitting defeat and giving up the fight for love. How anyone can possibly say Cas isn’t in love with Dean after this, well I just don’t know what show you are watching. This is the face of a heartbroken man who has just accepted that his love is unrequited.

3. The many faces of Dean Winchester

On the other end of the scale, Dean was mostly silent after his poisonous words “And why does that something always seem to be you?”

Forgive the terrible gif quality I’ve no time for fancy gif work!

Look at his face here. He knows what he said was fucked up and he immediately regrets it. The way he swallows around that regret and then turns away.

and after Cas says that devastating final line and walks away? We get THIS reaction from him:

The jaw clench as he looks down. The sorrow on his face as he realises he has well and truly fucked this up. LOOK

Finally, he looks up, makes himself look up and watch Cas leave. If that isn’t the face of a broken man I dunno what to tell you. Anyone who thinks Dean is totally heartless and uncaring right now needs to reassess because this is NOT the face of someone uncaring. This is the face of someone who has just lost everything. Again.

4. The FUCKING MUSIC

Seriously. The sweeping heavy drama of the low strings that come in right after Dean says that horrid line, that carry the weight of the look of horror and heartbreak on Cas’s face as they amplify the emotion there. As they blend seamlessly into the slow and subtle version of the Winchester family theme behind Cas’s heartbreaking speech and Dean’s stubborn stoic face hiding a multitude of emotion, until the violin dominates as Cas says “I think it’s time for me to move on” and the Winchester Theme swells to its climax, ripping all our hearts out just like poor Ketch as Dean watches Cas walk out of his life surrounded by darkness.

I MEAN.

A friend on Twitter reminded us all of this point about the importance of this theme via @justanotheridijiton here which is essentially:

“The Winchester theme is not simply an aural marker to let the audience know when and how Sam and Dean love each other (any Supernatural fan knows that is the baseline of their relationship), but to provide narrative information, especially when the image and dialogue are incomplete or inconsistent with the true situation... Seasoned fans will recognize the theme and its history of being paired with images indicating deep emotional bonding and a desire to do the right thing by the Winchester code. Here we trust our ears over our eyes to reveal the truth.”

So here is yet another key indicator that any surface read that this is actually an ending between Dean and Cas and that Dean really is just an angry asshole is utter bullshit.

Honestly, this was PAINFUL, but it was painful in the best way. It was 13x01 levels of pain, but this time it was Cas choosing to walk away which makes all the difference. Dean’s greatest fear isn’t his loved ones dying on him after all, but of his loved ones choosing to leave him. This was exactly the kick up the ass Dean needs in order to win Cas back, classic love trope style.

Hence my excitement at what is to come. Yes we won’t see Cas again until 15x06, but in the meantime I fully expect a good helping of angst and wallowing from a depressed Dean who has to deal with the fact that he has just lost the love of his life and it is all his fault. That he just pushed away the one person who promised they would always stay by his side. That has got to hurt.

So yeah, this episode emotionally destroyed me, and I’ve only really covered the primary reason, let alone all my feels over SamWitch, Rowena’s death, Belphegor’s taunting of Cas over his deepest fears and then having to suffer through smiting a creature wearing the face of his son until his body was nothing but a burnt corpse... I wonder if Bobo had a bet going in the office over how much he could hurt us all? He was certainly enjoying scrolling through the Supernatural tag on Twitter and liking everyone’s reaction tweets including some brilliant Destiel related ones. I do love Bobo. Our Angst Goblin King.

If anyone had asked me a few weeks ago what my thoughts were on the chances of getting explicit canon Destiel by series end, I would have said somewhere in the realms of 30-40%, considering it a battle of wills between DabbBerens and CW studio execs who I still feel are against it in general. I would have considered everything that happened after 13x06 as the writers getting a big NO on Destiel from the network and therefore having to pull back on any Destiel related plot points (purely my own speculation on BTS matters of course).

Now I am wondering if Dabb kept fighting the network? If he managed to wear them down into begrudging acceptance? I’m currently up to around an 80% chance of textual canon DeanCas if we continue on this path. If Dean is clearly shown to be mourning and hating himself over Cas next episode, and if this DeanCas dramatic plot line continues to be a focal point of the emotional story arcs... well...

I’m side eyeing 15x07 a lot right now. Only in my wildest dreams would I think that they might actually introduce an old boyfriend for Dean in a “coming out” episode, but the placement, timing, and potential is all there and I’m kind of once again donning the clown mask because I’m just in awe at everything that they are doing. I guess we’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, I’m gonna paint my face in red and white and wear my rainbow wig and listen to break up songs on Spotify whilst trying to shove my heart back into my chest where Bobo Beren’s gleefully ripped it out with his hands like the demonic angst goblin he is. Wish me luck, I’m not sure I’m gonna get through this season with my emotions intact.

#destiel #supernatural #spn meta #destiel meta #spn speculation #season 15 #15x03 #castiel #dean winchester #spn spoilers #my meta #destiel dreaming #destiel break up

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naptoons · 4 years

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hey boo, request for a zion imagine where he's away on tour and reader surprises him and they spend all their time just exploring the city before they're seperated and its just super fluffy xx take your time lovie

Hi lovely!!! Ofc!! I got you, I’m sorry it took so long yikes, and I hope it’s good, also sorry I changed your request completely I kinda went overboard haha

Belong

Summary: Zion is on tour, and he misses you dearly, but what he doesn’t know is that you’re in the same city as him, and you’re coming to his last show.

A/n: I’ve been obsessed with this song since I found out about it, this songs just makes me wanna drive up a mountain and just look at the stars lol sorry I’m done talking now.

Proofread: yes/no

Zion was on tour, sending you picture after pictures. Calling you late at night just to fall asleep with you on the phone. No doubt about it, he loved you with all his heart. Zion was the first to fall in love. And when he fell for you he fell hard. Multiple times his jealously was shown but you never quite picked it up, because he was so good at hiding it with humor or somehow his friends covered it up for him. Whenever you would ask him for advice on talking to your crush, what you should wear on your date. He would constantly joke. But sometimes his jokes came off harsh, which eventually caused you guys to ignore each other. But Zion couldn’t take it anymore. So instead of coming to your house to apologize.

He spilled his guts and apologized. And that’s when you knew that all the sarcastic stoic jokes were to cover his true feelings and jealousy.

Patting your hair dry with the towel, your phone vibrates against the counter cuts your music off, sliding to answer you set your phone up so he can look at you. “Beautiful” Zion mumbles, laughing you drop the towel from your hair “you think I’m joking but I’m not! You’re fucking beautiful mamas” Zion presses

“I never said you were!!” You laugh a little, doing your daily hair routine Zion just filled you in with how tour was, every now and then he stopped to say how much he loved you and how precious you are to him. After that you guys watched a movie together while you filled him in on how the past couple of days were for you.

Hours passed and you told Zion you were going to hangout with your “friends” but that was just a coverup how you were going to surprise him at his show, Brandon and Edwin were the only ones that knew you were coming to the show. If you would’ve told nick he would’ve accidentally told him. Nick and Zion are the main ones that don’t have a filter, they speak with whatever is on their mind. Take it or leave it. Grabbing the basket of gifts for him you looked at your outfit once more feeling satisfied with it. You got a text from the videographer to come outside.

Getting in the car he greets you with a soft smile “I swear you might just make his week” he comments, clicking in your seatbelt you smile “why’d you say that?”

“I swear I’ve never seen Zion so irritated in my life, he misses you a lot dude, and his denial just gets stronger and stronger” you giggle at his comment knowing how Zion hates to show how he’s feeling deep inside, when you tell him Everytime “you can confide in the one that you love” , smiling you look out the window admiring the lights over the semi vacant city. On these nights you wish Zion would cuddle you and stargaze. You might just do that.

Sitting backstage with their other friend he fills you in on how Zion acts during tour, how he shows you off to him and posts how much he loves you on Twitter, since you don’t own an account. Zion really is head over heels for you, and he’s never felt this way before. He always told himself if this how love feels I can’t wait to see what marriage feels like. all you did was laugh at his comments ultimately feeling embarrassed at the same time, but he was serious. When prettymuch was done performing you hugged each member before smiling at Zion.

“Hi baby missed me?” You giggle. Zion drops everything in his hands running over to squeeze you in the tightest bear hug. His sweaty chest again yours while his fingers latch underneath your thigh. Tender kisses against your neck with mumbles of ‘i love you’ you felt his torso shake slightly. You knew he was trying to keep his composure together from crying in front of people, you kissed his jawline while threading your hands through his hair. “I fucking love you so much mamas” Zion states, looking deep into your eyes, he just drowns in admiration.

“I love you more baby” you giggle slowly he puts you down on the floor but never taking his eyes off you, Zion locks his fingers with yours. Following where ever you were heading. Sitting down on the couch, Zion sat right next to you arm draped around your shoulder.

“Told you, Zion was acting a whole fool without you” his videographer smiles

“Zion is always a little brat, but this time he was overdoing it!” Edwin jumps in laughing along with you and Brandon. Zion says nothing but lays his cheek on your head. Caressing his arm over your shoulders you kiss the palm of his hand.

“How long are you staying for?” Zion mumbles, almost sounding so regretful he even asked.

“Hm, a day or two maybe, you want me to leave already?” You joke at the end Zion just pulls you closer leaving passionate pecks against your temple.

“I don’t want you to leave at all, I miss your crazy ass” Zion truly states.

“Lucky for you I got something planned”

“I’m excited mamas”

After Zion went to his hotel and freshened up you smile while laying on his bed, seeing the reposts of you surprising Zion, his friend posted it to his story. Many fans calling it relationship goals, most saying ‘maybe his attitude will change’ another saying ‘no more grumpy Zion’ before you can like some of the posts your phone is out of your grasp and you lock eyes with your beloved boyfriend.

“No phones, I just want me and you” Zion smiles bending down to kiss you, Zion was wrapped around your finger and you both knew it, Zion feared that if he ever lost you, he knew love wouldn’t feel as good as this but nevertheless he knew he’d fall in love again if it were to happen.

“Okay, it’s you and me today baby” you kiss him again “ready to go?”

“Yeah”

Helping Zion out the car was much more difficult than you thought, Zion was much taller than you, not only that Zion was also asking way too many question and becoming very curious if every little thing you did. “Mamas if you’re proposing to me I may just cry” Zion chuckles at the end

“What gives you that idea?” You ask feeling the heat rush up your chest to your cheek

“I’ve had a dream about it , but you also got me blindfolded!!” Zion laughs, stopping right in front of the picnic you had his friends set up you hold one of his hands “take it off now” without a second thought he undo the knots his eyes widen at the candlelight’s around the picnic table. It was something Zion wanted to do for months, but things just always got in the way. “Oh fuck mamas I love you” crashing you into his chest he kisses you as you giggle your fingers holding onto his forearm.

“I thought you were the only surprise, holy shit mamas you’re going to wreck me” breathlessly he tells you.

After eating Zion and you just watched the stars while he just listened to you picturing what each constellation looked like. Zion so badly wanted you to stay longer. But he couldn’t force you to put him above your priorities, he’d rather have you not text him for a week then to not do something that’s important to you. “Baby?” You call for him

“Hm?” Zion caught in a daze answers.

“We’re you listening baby?” You grab his chin in the palm of your hands “no, I was distracted, you’re so damn beautiful mamas” Zion leans in kissing you softly, the kiss taking your breath away. “how long you’ve been planing this hm?” He asks you

“Not long two days, it’s funny how you didn’t even notice when you called me that wasn’t my bathroom, it was the hotels”

“Well fuck me, I wasn’t really paying attention, I wanted to call you” his smiles widens, you thumb skidding across his jawline. Zion couldn’t stand how long he was away from you. His denial just made him miss you even more. You told him that after he hangs out with you to apologize to those he popped off on in a fight of frustration. Complying to your request. He shot everyone a text apologizing. Something he normally doesn’t do. But you bring out the best in him.

Zion drove you back to your hotel, walking with you to your room to make sure you were safe. But just as he’s about to walk away you smile “does my boyfriend Wanna come in?” Zion caught wind in his throat, surprised by your sudden change. “You know when I said a day or two, that meant I’m going to leave with y’all right?” Zion pushes through closing the door behind him locking it and scooping you up in his arms walking towards the bedroom.

Removing his clothes down to his boxers he wraps an arm around you just wearing his shirt. His chin laid on the sink of your shoulders. “I bought you clothes for nothing then” you giggle

“Shut up, you know I’ll wear them, I just wanna hold you” Zion mumbles through the cloud of sleep. Leaving no space in between you two your fingers travel up and down his ink.

“Good night baby I love you”

“I love you more mamas,Goodnight”

#prettymuch #prettymuch imagines #zion kuwonu #zion kuwonu concepts #zion prettymuch #zion kuwonu imagines

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knight-ingale · 3 years

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You know what really bothers me, how much hate Jacob gets from a lot of the Twilight fans. It's almost as if they forget that Smeyer purposefully ruined Jacob simply so we side with Edward, even though now Midnight Sun is making Edward creepier and more of an ass.

THIS 👏 IS 👏 WHAT 👏 I 👏 MEAN

I will state here and now the actions Jacob was forced to take (because of SMeyer’s blatant racism and inability to make her creepy white vampire boy appealing because he’s THAT bad) were not okay. Kissing/touching someone without their permission (assault) is not okay, and hounding them to give you a chance even though they’re in a relationship is not okay either.

You know what else isn’t okay? Destroying and ripping apart a poc character, who could have reasonably been a good match for your main character or even just a platonic friend (Which SMeyer totally could have done), to make your (white, rich, manipulative, and with a history of murder) leading romantic interest’s shitty actions look better by comparison.

“How can you like Jacob?? He did *all the things SMeyer made him do after his transformation* and he IMPRINTED on a BABY”

Well, yeah. He did do those things. You know why?? Because your “Beloved Author” and creator of your “Rich Vampire Husband 😌” literally wrote him that way due to inability to reflect her racist, misogynistic, and oppressively Mormon beliefs in her main love interest in a good light :)

Hello, yes, I have many opinions and I tend to scream when upset and talking about them. Just be glad y’all aren't here irl to listen to my squeaky ranting. If any Cullen Worshipers or Instagram/Twitter Twilight bitches wanna fight, meet me behind the Denny’s ;) We can talk about it <3

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renlimotroll · 3 years

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Love by Daylight

Summary: Siruko-san was forced to cosplay as Feng Min for a gaming convention, and there he finds his me-meant-to-be.

Pairing: Limone-Sensei x Siruko 🍋🐶

Warnings: BL, Personification, Out of Character because it’s my imagination, Cursing courtesy of Sensei’s potty mouth, male cosplaying as female character (does this count as crossdressing?)

A/N: This was a prompt given to me by my internet younger sister Aki, who imagined Siruko-san cosplaying as Feng Min. It was too good of a prompt not to write! But I’d like to apologize for the delay; I’ve been writing this since December 1 and I am a professional procrastinator XD 😅. (Please excuse my pun for memento. I like to think I’m funny hahaha 🤣)

The art you’ll see here is made by my beloved friend and babe Sarah. Check out her twitter and instagram here! Thank you so much babe for bringing to life what I’ve just been imagining. 💙💜 (Please don’t repost or grab without permission as a respect for her hard work)

Enjoy~

"I hate you all." Siruko declares angrily while adjusting his clothes with a little more force than necessary. He wants to burn these clothes and maybe hit his 'friends' too.

Who wouldn’t, when they forced him to wear this China dress.

"Siruko-san kawaiiiiii~" Jiraichan squeals and everyone nods, even his younger brother. Siruko feels betrayed.

Today is TGS day. Tokyo Game Show is one of the biggest video-game expo and conventions in all of Japan, held at Chiba. Everyone wanted to go, even Minben-san, and Siruko was the only one who didn't want to. The Bintroll leader knows that he's being a party pooper by refusing, but he hates crowds with a passion. He told them to just go by themselves, but by true Bintroll fashion, they refuse to listen to their leader.

Siruko didn't even realize he was being baited into coming through that stupid bet. They were playing DbD and suddenly Hakotaro (his own brother, nonetheless! traitors, all of them!) made a suggestion that whoever gets memento-ed first should cosplay as their character. Jiraichan added that the loser must come to TGS cosplaying. Naturally, Siruko-san's gamer pride refused to let him back out of the stupid bet, and they even had Ichihachi-kun be the killer. There was no way Siruko will be memento-ed, he thought, and he was confident enough in his DbD skills. There's no way he will lose.

Or so he thought.

"Can you all stop staring at me!! Let's just go!!" Siruko stomps out of the hotel room grumpily, sulking in the entire drive. Thankfully, or maybe they all felt sorry for him, but everyone in Bintroll cosplayed as their mains too, so Siruko wasn't out of place. The Double Morell keeps snickering at him, and Siruko-san glares daggers at them, vowing to never unhook them next time.

Siruko sighs deeply as he begins to see Makuhari Messe. TGS might not be as big as Comiket, but holy shoot this was a lot of people. He doesn't even know why Bintroll wanted to go here--every single one of them are not good with crowds and people in general--but Siruko can admit there's some sort of element of excitement here. There were so many cosplayers and booths filled with merch, action figures, and so many more. It's truly a feast for the eyes and even Siruko starts to look forward to buying something. Maybe new gaming PC gear!

He just hopes he'll be able to survive the crowds. Siruko takes a deep breath and enters the convention hall.

Limone-sensei blinks at the flash of the camera but maintains his smile. The female fans thank him and he thanks them back for supporting his channel. He waves at the limojos and they giggle. Sensei sighs inwardly.

It's his first time attending TGS as an invited participant and not a normal attendee, and even though he's happy that he became famous enough as a game commentator to be invited here, he kinda misses being able to walk around normally without all the people recognizing him. His face is even half-covered with a black mask, and yet people still know it's him. Limone loves interacting with his fans, but being stopped every few meters for a picture is kinda tough.

On his way to the toilet, he sees some men gathered around something. He pays them no mind, but then he hears this.

"I said leave me alone!"

Sensei doesn't know why, it's not even a woman's voice, but it sounded so nervous and desperate that Sensei wants to come to this person's rescue. Upon closer inspection, he sees a person in a (really well-done) Feng Min cosplay, although the bright red China dress kinda clashes with the pretty purple hair tied up in a bun. Sensei can't stop thinking it was really cute, and then finds himself weirded out by the thought of calling a guy cute.

“Ne neesan, just one picture, come on! And maybe your LINE too!” A guy (who’s as ugly as Hillbilly in Sensei’s opinion) invades Feng Min cosplayer’s personal space and Feng Min cosplayer is obviously uncomfortable. Limone doesn’t know why but it makes him seethe in anger. It’s not in his nature to meddle, but a group of guys surrounding and overcrowding someone is not a pleasant sight.

“Aho janai ka?! I’m a guy!” Sensei is impressed that even though Feng Min cosplayer looks so anxious, he still manages to fight back. “Heh really? You’re cute tho, you’ll do.” Buzoku-no-buzu presses closer to the purple head and gropes his butt, and Feng Min cosplayer squeaks. Sensei’s vision dims and he sees red. His feet bring him forward and he grips the guy's shoulder so hard he crumples down in an attempt to get away from him.

“Get lost.” He says simply, but his fierce eyes tell a different story. The other guys distance themselves immediately upon one look at him. Sensei doesn't wait for a reply and pulls Feng Min cosplayer to his side, staring down the wimps who were clearly more suited to gaming than engaging in real-life fights. At the back of his mind, alarm bells are ringing--he shouldn't be making a scene, especially someone with popularity like him. But Feng Min presses closer to him and he smells good and Sensei couldn’t think straight.

“Chill man, we didn’t know he had a boyfriend. We’ll leave.” One of the smarter idiots surrenders and tugs a complaining buzoku no buzu away, who was itching to take revenge. Sensei rolls his eyes inwardly; Hillbilly wouldn't even last a second if he fought Sensei. The pro-gamer was so worked up with adrenaline he didn't even realize to correct the guy about them being boyfriends. He glowers at them until they leave and disappear, and after that he hopes no one recognizes him. He can already see the tweets: "Limone-Sensei picking fights for his secret lover!" He groans inwardly.

“Ano… you didn’t need to do that, but thank you I guess.” Feng Min cosplayer says reluctantly even though he clearly was relieved, and he plays with his lovely fingers nervously. Sensei sees faint pink dusting his cheeks and has a split-second to think cute before he realizes he himself is blushing too, and he coughs slightly. Thank goodness he has a mask.

“What were you thinking, going to something like this alone, in a cosplay like that nonetheless?! Didn’t you know cosplayers are often harassed like this?! You should’ve at least brought a friend! Bakagayo omae?!” Sensei doesn’t know why he’s scolding this stranger, who in return gets surprised at Sensei’s strict words and squares his shoulders up as if preparing for a fight. “I have friends, okay?! I was just going to the toilet when I got stopped by those weirdos!” Purple head raises his chin defiantly and crosses his arms across his chest grumpily, and even then, at the back of Sensei’s mind, he thinks it’s cute. Sensei blinks, what is wrong with him today?

“Then go with your friends next time!”

“I will!” Feng Min raises his voice in return. “Thank you again and sorry for the trouble!” Feng Min stomps his way to the toilet, not looking sorry at all. Left alone by himself outside the toilet, Sensei shakes his head in disbelief and decides to go to another toilet.

That Feng Min purple head sure is interesting, he thinks, and hopes that he never has to see him again.

Siruko washes his hands in annoyance. What was that all about?! And he was starting to enjoy the convention too! He learns to cope with the crowds and get his anxiety to a manageable level, and with his friends he starts to enjoy looking at what each booth has to offer. He’s even bought some cute DbD stickers from this cute fanartist who was so grateful to have her first sell-out of the day and a comfy Lifeline hoodie he can wear all the time. Save for the crowd, the convention was really fun and nice and he was looking forward to watching some of the events on stage or even look at the indie game developers booth later.

And those weirdos just have to ruin his day! Mou!! He dusts off his China dress as he tries to shake his irritation off. But, in retrospect, the guy who just saved him, he’s kinda hot. His deep sexy voice sounds familiar, but Siruko can’t place where he has heard it. The way he stared down those weirdos even got Siruko’s goosebumps to raise, and even when he was scolding Siruko he kinda liked it. I didn't even get to ask his name, Siruko regrets. He decides to call him ear-piercing oniisan, because he has a gold piercing on his left ear that just makes him more seductive.

He comes out of the toilet back to the place where he last left Bintroll in, only to find no one there. No need to panic, Siruko calms himself. He tries looking around and waiting in the area, hoping that his friends will come back for him. But after a few minutes, no one came. Siruko starts to get restless, fear creeping up his throat and he tries to swallow it down but it’s like glass, and it’s getting hard to breathe.

Suddenly, it occurs to him that he just needs to call them. He pats his pockets for his phone, only to find out he has no pockets. Kuso China dress! Is this why girls always carry purses? Siruko thinks, because dammit why doesn't this cosplay have any pockets! He remembers that his phone is in his red medkit, an accessory to his cosplay, and he gave it to his brother coz he didn’t want it destroyed by bringing it to the toilet. AAAAA what is he gonna do now?!

Someone passes by with a burger in their hands and it smells so good, Siruko’s stomach rumbles loudly. The people walk by in a blur, and suddenly he feels so drained and alone. He finds a spot by the wall and slumps down, hugging his knees as much as his tight China dress allows him to move, hoping one of his friends finds him. Suddenly the crowds are too scary, and he can feel his panic rise up. What if they don't find him? How will he get home? Why are there so many people?!?!

He doesn't realize that he’s been spacing out until his view darkens, and he looks up to realize that someone was standing in front of him. Siruko looks up and sees ear-piercing oniisan, and it feels like he’s talking to him but Siruko can’t process anything he says. His chest hurts and it feels like an anaconda has been squeezing his body and there’s the sound of wind rushing in his ears. Ear-piercing oniisan crouches in front of him and tells him to breathe, to follow him… inhale… exhale.. Inhale… exhale…

“Oi. Oi. Daijoubu ka teme?” The voice snaps him awake, and Siruko responds, albeit too late.

“Hai?”

Ear-piercing oniisan sighs in relief, and Siruko realizes he was almost on the verge of a panic attack earlier and this handsome stranger had just helped him out of it. He didn't even realize there were tears pooling at the corner of his eyes, although thankfully they didn’t fall down. He blinks them away and tries to breathe properly again.

“Um…..” he tries, avoiding eye contact with the stranger who had just saved him twice now. Siruko clears his throat.

“What the hell are you doing here, alone again?! Where are your friends?!”

Why does a stranger scolding him make him feel calm? Siruko forgets his anxiety and relaxes immediately. “I don’t know. When I came back, they weren't here. They have my phone so I couldn't contact them.”

Ear-piercing oniisan huffs. “Bakagayo. You should always bring your phone and wallet. Seriously, are you a kid?”

Siruko tries to pout in protest, but then his stomach rumbles loudly again. Heat floods his cheeks and he looks away in embarrassment. Is it possible for the ground to swallow him up right now? Entity-sama! Please take me! Siruko begs in his imagination.

He thinks he hears ear-piercing oniisan laugh but it might be his imagination, because suddenly handsome oniisan stands up and offers him a hand. Siruko stares at it (and thinks, wow, it’s so pretty, how does a man have hands as pretty as this?) and ear-piercing oniisan rolls his (really beautiful) ocean eyes and moves his hand in a gesture that means he wants Siruko to stand up.

Siruko feels silly and takes the hand (and somehow his stomach flutters but not because of hunger) and ear-piercing oniisan helps him up and tugs him to somewhere. “Ne, where are we going?” He tries to ask. “I don’t even know your name.”

Ear-piercing oniisan looks back at him and smirks, and holy shit Siruko’s heart clenches. What the heck?! “Just call me Sensei.” Ear-piercing oniisan replies, and somehow the nickname fits him. Siruko doesn't know why but he trusts Sensei. At the very least, there’s only maybe 4% chance he’ll be taken to a yakuza hideout or something.

Sensei stops in front of a food cart and the smell of yakisoba cooking hits Siruko’s nose. Sensei greets the ojiisan like a friend and the ojiisan laughs, pleased to see Sensei. Ojiisan packs two big boxes into a plastic bag and hands it to Sensei, winking at Siruko. “Enjoy your date Sensei!” Ojiisan calls loudly while laughing and Sensei tells him “Uruse na!” but he’s also laughing. Siruko has a moment to think what kind of relationship they have for Sensei to reply so rudely at the older man but Sensei drags him away and Siruko scrambles to thank the ojiisan and bow. Sensei tugs him again and Siruko realizes they didn't have to wait in line for a long time to get some food (and maybe he saw some people in the queue glaring at them). He’s late in realizing that Ojiisan just said they were on a date… and Sensei didn’t correct him.

(Maybe Sensei… likes him a bit?) (Because he kinda likes Sensei too, maybe)

When Sensei finally stops walking (just when Siruko was about to whine. Sensei walks so fast and he’s wearing these really cool sneakers but Siruko is wearing a dress, you know!! Please be considerate!!), Siruko realizes someone was calling his name. He turns around and sees Quartetchi waving at him a few meters away from them, but since there’s too many people Siruko has to crane his neck to see him and he waves back. Sensei follows his line of vision and lets go of Siruko’s hand (wait, they’ve been holding hands the entire time? aaaaa)

“Ahh good, your friends found you.” Sensei says, but his tone seems to be disappointed. “I have my own event to go to, so please don’t get lost or be harassed again. I don’t have time to babysit you.” Siruko grumbles and complains that it’s not like he wanted those to happen!! Sensei scoffs in response and fishes his yakisoba out of the plastic bag. He pushes the plastic bag of food to Siruko’s hand and leans close to his ear. Siruko feels like all the air has been knocked out of his chest. “Ja na, mata ne.” Then he disappears into the crowd like Wraith turning invisible at the sound of the bell while Siruko tries to reboot his mind which just short-circuited. His heart is beating out loud in his ears. He doesn't know why but he feels like he lost something now that Sensei left. Before he has time to process why he felt that strange feeling even though he just met Sensei, his friends arrive to his spot.

“We finally found you Siruko-san!! Mou where did you go?! Don’t leave on your own like that!” Quartet chides.

“I told you guys I’ll be going to the toilet, and when I came back you all were gone! Mou don’t leave me like that!! I almost panicked!!”

“Maa maa the important thing is we found him now.” Jiraichan intervenes. “C’mon, let’s go eat lunch! Minben-san’s waiting in line right now so we gotta find a table to eat at.” The pink-haired guy pauses and notices Siruko’s food, then squints at the purple head. “Siruko-san, do you know who you were just with right now?” Jiraichan asks suspiciously.

“Eh? He said his name is Sensei but I don’t… really know…” Siruko trails, noticing the shocked looks of his friends. Jiraichan was the first to react. “EEEHHH?!?! How could you not know him???? Limone-sensei da yo! Limone-sensei!!”

“Dare?” He asks dumbly.

“Niisan, you seriously have no idea? He’s a famous gamer! I watched some of his DbD videos and he’s seriously, insanely good. How could you not know him?”

“NANI?!?! I knew his voice sounded familiar! How could I know, I was too busy being in trouble to remember that!! And I’ve never seen his face!!”

“Well, he doesn’t really show his face much.” Ichihachi agrees. “Wait, what do you mean you got into trouble?”

"N-nothing! Who said I got into trouble??" Siruko sweat-drops. "C’mon, let's just go!! I'm hungry!!" He herds them all away to eat lunch, all the while trying to look back to the sea of strangers in the crowd, wishing he could see Sensei at least one more time.

He never even got to thank Sensei.

Being invited to judge a cosplay contest is a huge honor, and Limone-sensei was really excited about it. Or, at least, he used to be, because now he's pretty distracted with the thoughts of Feng Min cosplayer. He wonders if he plays DbD too, if Feng Min was his main, and suddenly he thinks he would like to play with him someday. Now everytime he sees a Feng Min cosplay he gets sort of excited, but then they don’t have purple hair and he gets disappointed. He tests the guy's name on his lips. Siruko. Sensei thinks it fits the guy and is kinda cute like him.

The event was about to start soon and he was on the backstage talking to one of the event organizers. Or he pretends to be listening, because Sensei’s mind was wandering back to that voice. He wouldn't mind hearing it again, but in the midst of these many people in the arena, Feng Min cosplayer--no, Siruko-- is just one of those one-moment encounters that'll never happen again. He feels sad about it and he doesn’t know why.

Until he hears that voice again. For a moment he thought it was his imagination, and wonders how weird it was for him to have hallucinations of a voice of someone he just met. But the voice rings out again, and Sensei strains his neck to look everywhere for it, not realizing how rude it must have looked for the event organizer talking to him. Hope rises to his chest, despite him trying not to.

Beautiful purple eyes meet his, and for a moment Sensei is mesmerized, lost and drowning in them. But then he sees they were eyes calling out for help. Sensei excuses himself rather abruptly to the annoyance of the event organizer and stalks forward to Siruko. How can he resist those pleading eyes? He'd do anything in his power not to see those again, because despite his bravado, his online persona of being a badass who can do anything, Limone-sensei is actually a softie, especially for cute things and Feng Mins in distress.

"We don't have any time, Sir. Please go to the backstage!" The fierce-looking, small lady organizer drags Siruko-san to the other side of the stage where the cosplayers are lining up for the competition.

"A-ah! Wait!! I told you I'm not in the cosplay competition! Matte--"

Sensei grabs the shoulder of the small lady, who shoots him a nasty look before realizing who he was. Sensei knows the organizer was just doing her job, but dammit Sensei is annoyed. "Excuse me, I think you got the wrong guy."

Organizer-san takes a double look at Siruko, who withers under the intense scrutiny. He somehow senses that Sensei is in a bad mood as he fiddles with his fingers nervously.

"Wait, you're not Takahiro-san?”

"I've been telling you for the last five minutes!" Siruko tries to shake off the woman's frankly death grip and runs behind Sensei as if taking cover. Sensei glares a little at Siruko as if saying, "You got into trouble again?!" and Siruko scrunches his eyebrows together and purses his lips in indignation, as if protesting that "It wasn't my fault!"

"I assure you, this person is just cosplaying for fun. We're sorry for the trouble." He forces Siruko-san to bow together with him, and the event organizer-san apologizes too, although she really looked stressed about finding the missing cosplayer. But Sensei doesn’t feel sorry for her; blame his lack of anger-management control. He’s too keyed up now, and everything is too sharp, and he doesn’t understand his feelings.

Sensei snatches Siruko's arm and drags him to the nearest corner, as private as the backstage could allow them to be. He's really pissed that all these bad things keep on happening to Siruko-san. It's frustrating and infuriating! Why was the world so out to give trouble to Siruko-san?! What if he wasn't there to save Siruko-san?! He remembers the blank look Siruko-san had earlier, when he found him beside the wall, gasping for air and trying so hard to breathe, and Limone hated that. He never wants to see Siruko's pretty purple eyes being so helpless and scared. His anger bubbles up like steam and he wants to lash out at something.

“Itetete Sense----!! Stop pulling me!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Sensei shouts, and Siruko stills. “Didn't I tell you not to make any more trouble?! What would you do if you were suddenly shoved onto the stage?! Don't you know how big this event is?! People would boo you out there and there’ll be pictures of you all over the internet and they’d make fun of you--”

“But it’s not my fault--” Siruko tries to protest.

“But you still should have been careful! I can't come to rescue you all the damn time! It’s like you’re looking for trouble just to see me! In that case, I don't ever want to see you again!”

Sensei freezes. It’s not what he wanted to say at all, but the damage has been done. He sees Siruko’s hurt look and he stiffens. In his frustration and anger, he took it out on the very thing he wanted to protect. He sees Siruko’s face close off and become distant, and he wants to take back the words, to apologize. “I- I didn’t mean--”

“I actually just came looking for you to give you this," Siruko thrusts a box to Sensei’s hand. “To thank you. But don't get me wrong, I never asked for your help in the first place. I never wanted ANY of that to happen in the first place. Anyway, thanks for everything. I’m sorry for being just a bother to you.” Siruko bows 90 degrees stiffly and runs, and Sensei tries to catch his hand but he doesn’t reach it and grabs air instead. He's too shocked at himself for saying those mean things and too shocked at seeing himself hurt Siruko-san.

He realizes he still has the box in his hands and he opens it to see a rabbit mask. The one that one of his favorite DBD killers have, which means Siruko knows who he is now. It was thoughtful, really, but right now it’s breaking Sensei’s heart.

If only someone could shout “Bakagayo!” at him now, because he really messed up.

Siruko wasn’t going to cry, nope. He was a man, goddammit! And it’s not like he and Sensei were friends--they were two strangers who met in a coincidence. So it’s totally understandable that there’s a possibility that Sensei hates him. It was Siruko’s own goddamn fault for thinking he could be friends with Sensei, for his unrealistic expectations that maybe, Sensei would like to hang out with him (that maybe Sensei even liked him).

He reaches his friends and they see that something’s wrong by looking at his face, but since they’re the best people in the world and they’re his friends, no one comments on it. They try to distract him by pointing at interesting booths, and they even get to try some techie stuff and unreleased games even though they had to stand in line for a long time. It was almost fun, if Siruko wasn't distracted with the thought of how painful it was that Sensei never wanted to see him again. He just wants to go back to Tochigi now and maybe never ever leave his bed ever again.

Time passed by really quickly, and before they knew it, it was almost closing time. They were about to leave and go back to the rental car when Ichihachi-kun suddenly tugs him back. Turns out everyone stopped walking while Siruko kept moving forward. Siruko grumbles “What?” a little bit angrily and Ichihachi-kun points him in another direction.

Apparently Sensei’s been calling his name a lot, and now Sensei is wading through this huge mass of people just to get to him.

Siruko wants to ignore him, to just forget about everything and move on. Who was he anyway, to be friends with Sensei, who’s really cool and awesome and famous? Nothing will ever bud in their relationship, so there was no use hoping. Come daylight, they will be just two people who just happened to cross paths in a gaming convention. Nothing more.

But Sensei pushes back with all his might against the angry people who yell at him, and he sees Sensei's bright blue eyes, desperate for a chance to talk to him. And Siruko hates himself a little for not being able to turn him away, because he’s really weak for kind people. And no matter how much Sensei hated him, he finds himself unable to hate Sensei.

Sensei reaches them, gasping for oxygen like he just ran a marathon. People around them get annoyed at them stopping in the middle of the hallway, so they try to move to the side walls. Siruko sees Bintroll instinctively place themselves between him and Sensei, as if telling Sensei that “Nope, we’re not gonna let you hurt Siruko-san again”, and he feels so touched.

“Siruko-san.” Sensei gulps for air then tries, “I was… hoping we could talk… please.”

“Ehhh, I don’t know,” Jiraichan crosses his arms pretending to think, “...tell me, Sensei, why would I let you talk to my friend, hm?”

Sensei looks into Siruko-san’s eyes directly, and Siruko feels it… the sensation of the world being pulled to one person. His cerulean eyes were like magnets, and Siruko finds himself unable to pull away, attracted to it. “Actually, you shouldn't,” Sensei states seriously. “I’ve been a horrible person, and I’d even let all of you punch me right now because I deserve it. But please believe me when I say that I didn’t mean any of what I said. It’s true. I… I’m sorry, Siruko-san.”

And Sensei looks actually sincere. Siruko wants to stay angry for a little bit, but how can he resist an honest apology? He comes forward and makes gestures for his friends to leave them for a bit, that he can handle this. Mou, curse him for having a weakness for ikemen with glasses..

“Okay, you have 5 minutes to talk, then we really need to go back to our hotel. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”

“Right, right, of course of course.” Sensei looks flustered as he scratches the back of his neck as he stands awkwardly. "I… I didn't actually think I'd make it past the apology so I got nothing prepared… umm…"

Out of all the things Siruko expects, who would have known that Sensei is actually really very shy? Siruko giggles at the back of his mind. And because, contrary to popular opinion, he can actually be a little shit if he wants to, Siruko replies, "Well if you have nothing to say then I have to go pack my bags, Tochigi is a long way after all…."

Sensei repeats “Tochigi” as if trying to take note of it in his mind then shakes his head, almost raising his hand as if he wants to grab Siruko's hands but decides it was too embarrassing so he drops it. "Ano…. Let's exchange LINE?"

"Are you ordering or asking?"

"Asking?"

"Because you want to talk to me?"

"Yes?"

"Are you asking or answering?"

"Answering."

"And you want to talk to me because?"

"Because…. You're interesting?"

"You sound like you're not sure."

"I AM SURE!"

"THEN ARE YOU ASKING ME OUT?"

"YES!! IM ASKING YOU OUT BAKAGAYO!" Sensei yells, then blinks. Siruko couldn't stop himself anymore and laughs out loud. He wipes the tears in his eyes while holding his stomach. He can tell Sensei is blushing because his ears are red.

"Okay, but only if you beat me and my friends in DbD. What do you say, Sensei?"

And even though he's hiding behind the mask, Siruko knows Sensei is trying hard not to smile right now. Don't ask him how, he just knows. "Oh, it's on! I'd love to hear you scream when I memento you."

"Haha, you wish! You haven't played with me and my friends, you don't know how good we all are. We can fix the generators faster than you can blink, we'll be out in no time."

And Sensei actually laughs, the bastard. "Why don't you show me instead of telling me, Siruko-san." he says in a low dangerous tone, and it makes Siruko shiver in delight.

"I'd love to, Sensei." he whispers back.

Later, much later, after Sensei comes over to their hotel and sets up his laptop on Siruko's bed while all his friends are sprawled all over the floor in varying positions, and they're screaming and laughing and eating pizza and one match became five and suddenly it's dusk and they're all too tired but no one wants to miss Day 2 of the convention so they all go together with bags under their eyes, Siruko decides that may be conventions aren't too bad at all. Heck, even cosplaying as a girl character wasn't that bad, coz he slayed that look. And if it brought him to this moment, where he's dragging Sensei to all these booths amd Sensei rolls his eyes but obliges and he's being ridiculous trying to make Sensei laugh and Sensei, ever the straight man, says he's ridiculous even though he's also smiling, Siruko would gladly cosplay again.

He's being too cheesy, but he does think what's memento-be will be.

The end.

Omake!!

Two years later.

"I AM NOT WEARING THAT RIDICULOUS THING."

"PLEASE SENSEI, IT'S TOO CUTE!! PLEASE PLEASE JUST THIS ONCE!!"

"I SAID NO!! GO TO HELL!!"

"I'LL GO THERE BECAUSE YOU'RE THERE YOU LITERAL DEMON!! IF YOU DON'T WEAR IT I'M NOT GOING!!"

"ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE! WE'VE BEEN PLANNING THIS FOR MONTHS! IT'S OUR FUCKING ANNIVERSARY GODDAMIT"

"YES AND THIS IS THE BEST WAY TO CELEBRATE IT!! MOUUUUUU YOU'D THINK AFTER ALL THAT SIRUKO-SAN ENDURED, THE LONG-DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP, THE MY-BOYFRIEND-IS-TOO-FAMOUS-SO-WE-HAVE-TO-MAKE-OUR-DATES-DISCREET, THE BASHING I GET FROM SOME OF YOUR CRAZIER FANS, YOU’D THINK SIRUKO-SAN DESERVES A REWARD BUT NOOOOO…. MOSHIKASHITTE, ORE NO KOTO KIRAI KA NA….”

“.........”

Siruko tries not to chuckle as his boyfriend, aka Limone-sensei, glares at him through the webcam. He’s playing dirty and Sensei knows it well, but in the end Siruko will win. It’s not his fault Sensei crumbles at the sight of his pien eyes, and he’s not above using it. It’s his perk, and he gotta use it to his advantage.

“Fuck you.” Which, in Sensei language, means yes. Siruko lets a whoop of joy and Sensei bares his teeth at him like an angry animal.

“I love you~ See you tomorrow!”

“Go to sleep, bakatare. I love you too.”

After a year of being friends and getting to know each other, and finally, finally Sensei asking him to be his, and them going out for a year, it’s nice. They’ve been through ups and downs, sure, but just like any game, they learn from their mistakes and improve. It wasn’t easy, it never was, but Sensei was the yin to his yang. Where Sensei was cold and easy to get angry, Siruko was warm and quick to forgive. Where Siruko has insecurities and anxieties, Sensei was the confidence that pulls him through and fights the negativity away. It was easier because of that. Even if they’re opposites, they complement each other. They don't even fight about anything, because despite his badass reputation, Sensei is a softie who’s very very weak to Siruko’s attempts at being cute, and Siruko had always been patient and understanding and it was easy for him to accept the downsides of dating someone as famous as Sensei.

And tomorrow, they’ll go back to where it all started, the gaming convention where they met. Siruko was planning to wear Feng Min’s bunny jacket as a lowkey cosplay and Sensei needs to wear that bunny Huntress mask if he values his life, so they can both have something bunny-like and DBD-like. It’s cute and ridiculous, exactly like his relationship with Sensei. Siruko can't help but giddy about it. It’s Love by Daylight after all.

THE END.

#Bintrollfanfic #LimoSiru

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fullregalia · 3 years

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20/20.

This year, in hindsight, was a real write-off. I had grand plans for it, and while I ushered it in in a very low-key manner since I was recovering from the flu, I’d expected things to look up. Well, you know what they say about plans (RIP, my trip to Europe). I got very, very sick in early February, and I’m not entirely sure it wasn’t COVID. Since March, the days have been a carousel of monotony: coffee, run, work, cook, yoga, existential spiral, sleep. My Own Private Year of Rest and Relaxation, if you will. Of course, life has a way of breaking through regardless; I attended protests, completed my thesis, graduated from grad school, took a couple of road trips upstate, and celebrated the accomplishments and birthdays of friends and family from a safe social distance. It was all a bit of a blur, and not ideal circumstances to re-enter the real world, or whatever this COVID-present is.

Throughout it all, in lieu of happy hours, coffee dates, and panel discussions, I’ve turned even more to culture and cuisine to fill the the negative space on my calendar where my social life once resided. However, since a global pandemic ought not to disrupt every tradition, here’s my year-end round up of what made this terrible one slightly more tolerable.

After an ascetic fall semester abstaining from TV in 2019 (save for my beloved Succession), I allowed myself to watch more as the year wore on, and especially after graduation. I caught up on some cultural blind spots by finally getting around to The Sopranos, Ramy, Search Party, and Girlfriends. I wasn’t alone in bingeing Sopranos, it absolutely lived up to the hype and then some; this Jersey Girl can’t get enough gabagool-adjacent content, pizzeria culture is my culture!

Speaking of my culture, there was also a disproportionate amount of UK and European shows in my queue. Nothing like being in social isolation and watching the horny Irish teens in Normal People brood. I’m partial to it because I share a surname with the showrunner, so I have to embrace blind loyalty even though there was, in my opinion, a Marianne problem in the casting. Speaking of charming Irish characters with limited emotional vocabularies, I belatedly discovered This Way Up a 2019 show from Aisling Bea and Sharon Horgan. And while Connell and Marianne are actually exceptional students, I found the real normal people on GBBO to bring me a bit more joy. Baking was abundantly therapeutic for me this year, and watching charming people drink loads of tea and fret over soggy bottoms was a comfort. I also discovered the Great Pottery Throw Down, and as a lifelong ceramics enthusiast, I cannot recommend it highly enough if you care about things like slips, coils, and glazing techniques. GPTD embraces wabi sabi in a way that GBBO eschews flaws in favor of perfection, and in a time of uncertainty, the former reminded me why I miss getting my hands in the mud as a coping mechanism (hence all the baking). Speaking of coping mechanisms, like everybody else with two eyes and an HBO password, I loved Michaela Cole’s I May Destroy You; though we’ve all had enough distress this year for a lifetime, watching Cole’s Arabella process her assault and search for meaning, justice, and closure was a compelling portrait of grief and purpose in the aftermath of trauma. Arabella’s creative and patient friends Kwame and Terry steal the show throughout, as they deal with their own setbacks and emotional turmoil. Where I May Destroy You provides catharsis, Ted Lasso presents British eccentricity in all its stereotypical glory. At first I was skeptical of the show’s hype on Twitter, but once I gave in it charmed me, if only for Roy Kent’s emotional trajectory and extolling the restorative powers of shortbread. For a more accurate depiction of life in London, Steve McQueen’s series Small Axe provides a visually lush and politically clear-eyed depiction of the lives of British West Indians in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Lastly, how could I get through a recap of my year in tv if I don’t mention The Crown. Normal People may have needed an intimacy coordinator, but the number of Barbours at Balmoral was the real phonographic content for me.

Turning my attention across the Channel, after the trainwreck that was Emily in Paris, I started watching a proper French show, Call My Agent! It’s truly delightful, and unlike the binge-worthy format of "ambient shows” I have been really relishing taking an hour each week to watch CMA, subtitles, cigarettes, and all.

Honorable mention: The Last Dance for its in-depth look at many notable former Chicago residents; High Fidelity for reminding me of the years in college when my brother and I would drive around listening to Beta Band; and Big Mouth.

Music

My Spotify wrapped this year was a bit odd. I don‘t think “Chromatica II into 911″ is technically a song, so it revealed other things about my listening habits this year, which turned out to remain very much stuck in the last, sonically. I listened to a lot more podcasts than new music this year, but there were some records that found their way into heavy rotation. While I listened to a lot of classics both old and new to write my thesis (Paul Simon, Leonard Cohen, Prokofiev, and Bach) the soundtrack to my coursework, runs, walks, and editing was more contemporary. Standouts include:

Saint Cloud by Waxahatchee, which makes me feel like I’m breathing fresh air even when I’m stuck inside all day

La Bella Vita by Niia, which was there for me when I walked past my ex on 7th avenue (twice!) and he pretended that I didn’t exist

Fetch the Bolt Cutters by THEE Fiona Apple, because Fiona, our social distancing queen, has always been my Talmud, her songs shimmering, evolving, and living with me every year

Shore by Fleet Foxes, for the long drive to the Catskills

Women in Music, Pt. III by HAIM, because these days, these days...

Musicians have been reckoning with tumult this year as much as the rest of us, and the industry has dealt with loss on all fronts. I’d be remiss not to talk about how the passing of John Prine brought his music into my life, and McCoy Tyner, who has been a companion through good and bad over the years.

Honorable mention to: græ by Moses Sumney; The Main Thing by Real Estate; on the tender spot of every calloused moment by Ambrose Akinmusire; Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers; folklore by you know who; and songs by Adrianne Lenker.

Reading

What would this overlong blob be without a list of the best things I read this year? While I left publishing temporarily, books, the news, and newsletters still took up a majority of my attention (duh and/or doomscrolling by any other name). I can’t be comprehensive, and frankly, there are already great roundups of the best longform this year out there, so this is mostly books and praising random writers.

Last year I wrote about peak newsletter. Apparently, my prediction was a bit premature as this year saw an even bigger Substack Boom. But two new newsletters in particular have delighted me: Aminatou Sow’s Crème de la Crème and Hunter Harris’ Hung Up (her ”this one line” series is true force of chaotic good on Blue Ivy’s internet). Relatedly, Sow and Ann Friedman’s Big Friendship was gifted to me by a dear friend and another bff and I are going to read it in tandem next week.

On the “Barack Obama published a 700+ page memoir, crippling the printing industry’s supply chains” front, grad school severely hamstrung my ability to read for pleasure, but I managed to get through almost 30 books this year, some old (Master and Margarita), most new-ish (Say Nothing, Nickel Boys). Four 2020 books in particular enthralled me:

Uncanny Valley: Anna Wiener’s memoir has been buzzed about since n+1 published her essay of the same name in 2016. Her ability to see, clear-eyed, the industry for both its foibles and allure captured that era when the excess and solipsism of the Valley seemed more of a cultural quirk than the harbinger of societal schism.

Transcendent Kingdom: Yaa Gyasi’s novel about faith, family, loss, and--naturally--grad school was deeply empathetic, relatable, and moving. I think this was my favorite book of the year. Following the life of a Ghanaian family that settles in Alabama, it captured the kind of emotional ennui that comes from having one foot in the belief of childhood and one foot in the bewilderment that comes from losing faith in the aftermath of tragedy.

Vanishing Half: Similarly to Transcendent Kingdom, Brit Bennett’s novel about siblings who are separated; it’s also about the ways that colorism can be internalized and the ways chosen family can (and cannot) replace your real kin. It was a compassionate story that captured the pain of abuse and abandonment in two pages in a way that Hanya Yanagihara couldn’t do in 720.

Dessert Person: Ok, so this is a cookbook, but it’s a good read, and the recipes are approachable and delicious. After all the BA Test Kitchen chaos this summer, it’s nice we didn’t have to cancel Claire. Make the thrice baked rye cookies!!!! You will thank me later.

Honorable mention goes to: Leave The World Behind for hitting the Severance/Station Eleven dystopian apocalypse novel sweet spot; Exciting Times for reminding me why I liked Sally Rooney; and Summer by Ali Smith, which wasn’t the strongest of the seasonal quartet, but was a series I enjoyed for two years.

Podcasts

I’m saving my most enthusiastic section for last: ever since 2018, I’ve been listening to an embarrassing amount of podcasts. Moving into a studio apartment will do that to you, as will grad school, add a pandemic to that equation and there’s a lot of time to fill with what has sort of become white noise to me (or, in one case, nice white parents noise). In addition to the shows that I’ve written about before (Still Processing, Popcast, Who? Weekly, and Why is This Happening?), these are the shows I started listening to this year that fueled my parasocial fire:

You’re Wrong About: If you like history, hate patriarchy, and are a millennial, you’ll love Sarah Marshall and Michael Hobbes’ deep dives into the most notable stories of the past few decades (think Enron and Princess Diana) and also some other cultural flashpoints that briefly but memorably shaped the national discourse (think Terri Schiavo, Elian González, and the Duke Lacrosse rape case).

Home Cooking: This mini series started (and ended) during the pandemic. As someone who stress baked her way through the past nine months, Samin Nosrat and Hrishikesh Hirway’s show is filled with warmth, banter, and useful advice. Home Cooking has been a reassuring companion in the kitchen, and even though it will be a time capsule once we’re all vaccinated and close talking again, it’s still worth a listen for tips and inspiration while we’re hunkered down for the time being.

How Long Gone: I don’t really know how to explain this other than saying that media twitter broke my brain and enjoying Chris Black and Jason Stewart’s ridiculous banter is the price I pay for it.

Blank Check: Blank Check is like the GBBO of podcasts--Griffin Newman and David Sims’ enthusiasm for and encyclopedic knowledge of film, combined with their hilarious guests and inevitable cultural tangents is always a welcome distraction. Exploring a different film from a director’s oeuvre each week over the course of months, the podcast delves into careers and creative decisions with the passion of completists who want to honor the filmmaking process even when the finished products end up falling short. The Nancy Meyers and Norah Ephron series were favorites because I’d seen most of the movies, but I also have been enjoying the Robert Zemeckis episodes they’re doing right now. The possibility of Soderbergh comes up often (The Big Picture just did a nice episode about/with him), and I’d love to hear them talk about his movies or Spike Lee (or, obviously, Martin Scorsese).

Odds & Ends

If you’re still reading this, you’re a real one, so let’s get into the fun stuff. This was a horrible way to start a new decade, but at least we ended our long national nightmare. We got an excellent dumb twitter meme. I obviously made banana bread, got into home made nut butters, and baked an obscene amount of granola as I try to manifest a future where I own a Subaru Outback. Amanda Mull answered every question I had about Why [Insert Quarantine Trend] Happens. My brother started an organization that is working to eliminate food insecurity in LA. Discovering the Down Dog app allowed me to stay moderately sane, despite busting both of my knees in separate stupid falls on the criminally messed up sidewalks and streets of Philadelphia. I can’t stop burning these candles. Jim Carrey confused us all. We have a Jewish Second Gentleman! Grub Street Diets continued to spark joy. Dolly Parton remains America’s Sweetheart (and possible vaccine savior). And, last, but certainly not least: no one still knows how to pronounce X Æ A-12 Boucher-Musk.

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deliciousdetectivestranger · 4 years

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Notes from the Winter Solstice Meeting

Phew! Just back from the winter solstice meeting on Mount Olympus. I promised you a report. I don’t have any solid news yet, sorry, but I did petition the gods directly, so we’ll see what happens! The transcript of my talk with the Olympians is below.

Notes from Winter Solstice Meeting 2019,

Mount Olympus

600th Floor, Empire State Building

New York City

INT. MOUNT OLYMPUS – THRONE ROOM

We see an aging mortal writer in the midst of a great chamber. He is dwarfed by a semicircle of giant thrones inhabited by the Olympian deities.

Rick Riordan: Thank you for seeing me, O great Olympians.

Zeus: We understand you want . . . (checks notes) a reboot. What is wrong with your present boots?

RR: No, Lord Zeus, a reboot adaptation of my books about Percy Jackson.

Zeus: I knew that. Percy . . . Yes, he’s a good lad. Those movies, though –

Ares: Oh, gods! No. Just NO. I wanted to KILL somebody.

Hermes: To be fair, Ares, you always want to kill someone.

Ares: THAT’S NOT THE POINT!

Athena: Mr. Riordan, we already rained fire and pestilence upon that studio.

RR: Yes, Lady Athena, and I appreciate that.

Athena: The particular division that made those horrendous adaptations has been dismantled. And the remainder of the company has been . . . (dramatic pause) acquired. (Glances at Zeus) Which corporate hydra did we send to devour it? Starbucks? Amazon?

Hephaestus: (grumpily) Disney. I made a very competitive bid with Hephaestus-TV, but I was rejected! Bah!

Athena: I remember now. The hydra of the Mouse God. A powerful force indeed! At any rate, Mr. Riordan, after your first movie experience, didn’t you swear on the River Styx that you would never go to Hollywood again?

RR: I may have made some rash statements to that effect.

Hades: We take oaths on the River Styx very seriously, Riordan. Don’t make me claim your soul before its time!

RR: No, Lord Hades. Of course not. I just thought . . . well, honestly, I’d be happy to just write books and ignore Hollywood forever, but my fans really, REALLY want me to try again, seeing as there are so many new opportunities now that Disney has acquired the rights –”

Artemis: I loved Frozen. Oh, gods. Elsa is Hunter Squad goals!!!

Ares: I preferred Mulan. The new live action version looks lit — like nuclear bomb lit.

Aphrodite: You are all silly. The Little Mermaid is the best. (sighs)

Poseidon: For once, I agree with you. (clears throat). But we’re getting off track. Riordan needs to appease his fans. That is something we gods can understand. What would you have us do, mortal writer person? A hurricane against Los Angeles? A tsunami? This is, after all, my son Percy’s reputation we’re talking about!

RR: No, Lord Poseidon, nothing so dramatic. The executives I have talked to so far have been interested. I think they’ve listened to me. But there are many people that must give their input. Many executives to speak with.

Hermes: True. The servants of the Mouse God are myriad.

RR: Right now, they are considering my words, and talking, and pondering.

Athena: That is wise. Such actions must be carefully considered.

Hermes: Ugh, but pondering, though. That could take months. Years. Decades.

RR: (sighs) True, Lord Hermes. It is a very long process. That’s why I was hoping you gods could give me your blessing. Perhaps send some good omens our way? Really, any support could help.

Zeus: (stroking his beard) We could get a hashtag trending on social media.

RR: Actually, my fans already did that, without me even asking. It shot to #1 worldwide on Twitter.

Demeter: (busily sorting different kinds of cereal in a large bowl) You could spend more time meeting with people in Hollywood.

RR: I have already done that. I’ve gone to L.A. twice this fall, each time for a full week of meetings.

Artemis: (winces) That is a lot of time in L.A.

Athena: Perhaps we could show Disney how beloved these books are. We could grant you tremendous success and years on the bestseller lists.

Hermes: (waves his hand impatiently) Guys, Riordan’s already got huge success. Those Percy books have been on the bestseller list for ten solid years. That should be a strong enough message!

Ares: Well, I suppose that leaves us no choice but a full frontal assault. I will summon the war chariots!

RR: That’s not necessary, Lord Ares! Just your blessings are all I ask. May I continue to negotiate and push for a new adaptation? Will you favor my efforts?

Poseidon:

Absolutely! Those books have brought me incredible publicity. Er, I mean, they’ve brought all of us incredible publicity.

Ares: Hmm. I didn’t come across as a very nice guy.

Silence.

Athena: Anyway, what would this new adaptation look like, Riordan?

RR: I have some very specific ideas, but it’s too early to say. We have to wait to see what the minions of the Mouse God are willing to consider. The most important thing is to do a faithful adaptation that makes the fans of my books happy. They’ve been waiting for over ten years, and I really don’t want to let them down.

Hermes: Yes, fine, but what’s our cut?

RR: Your cut? Um, well . . . you get lots of publicity. New readers hearing about you, learning your names and your deeds. I’ll even burn a sandwich in your honor.

Hermes: Peanut butter?

RR: Sure.

Hermes: You are a shrewd negotiator, Riordan. I will support you.

Zeus: Would you be willing to take some notes on the script, though? For one thing, I should be played by Brad Pitt.

Ares: No, I’m Brad Pitt!

Demeter: (looks up from her large bowl of cereal) No, Brad Pitt is mine! (blinks) Wait, what are we talking about?

Hera: (glances up from her Good Housekeeping magazine) Go back to sorting your Frosted Flakes, Sister. (narrows her eyes at Riordan) I always come off looking like the villain in your books, Riordan. Why is that? Why should I support you?

RR: Ah. Well, Lady Hera –

Zeus: Don’t be touchy, my dear. He took artistic liberties, that’s all.

Hera: Hmmm.

Zeus: Speaking of artistic liberties, what if – hear me out – what if we made Percy Jackson a teenaged vampire?

Poseidon: Never! But I think the story would work well if we made all the characters be in their early twenties. And we turned it into a sort of spy thriller meets romantic comedy.

Athena: Or perhaps you could just let the author do what his millions of fans want and be faithful to the source material.

Zeus: Well . . . I suppose you’re the goddess of wisdom for a reason.

Athena: Also, I want to be played by Brie Larson.

Hermes: Dibs on Benedict Cumberbatch.

Hades: I want Stan Lee to have a cameo.

Zeus: Stan Lee is dead; may the gods rest his soul.

Hades: You’re talking to the Lord of the Underworld, here.

RR: (under his breath) Suddenly an animated adaptation isn’t sounding so bad.

Aphrodite: I just want to know when the casting calls are.

RR: (confused) My lady?

Aphrodite: Well, I know I don’t have any acting experience, but I look perfect for the role of Aphrodite and my friends all tell me I’m very dramatic.

Artemis: You are Aphrodite, you nitwit.

Aphrodite: Don’t be rude! I just want an audition.

RR: Uh . . . okay. So then do I have your permission to keep pressing for a new adaptation?

Muttering and whispering among the gods.

Zeus: Very well, mortal writer person, but even with the gods on your side, this will be a difficult struggle, and it may be a long time before you get a clear answer. Unlike the Olympians, Hollywood does not work during the winter holidays. Everyone is out of the office until after New Year’s.

RR: Yes, Lord Zeus. But I must keep trying. For the fans! For the children!

Hera: (rolling her eyes) You’re as dramatic as Aphrodite. By the way, I expect my part to be played by Elizabeth Taylor.

RR: But she’s – (catches a warning look and a shake of the head from Zeus.) – I’ll see what I can do, Lady Hera.

Zeus: Excellent! Now if you’ll excuse us, Riordan. We have other business to attend to. These climate disasters aren’t going to create themselves.

Riordan exits, bowing and scraping.

Zoom out from Mount Olympus to an aerial view of Manhattan.

Fade to black.

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signor-signor · 4 years

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Trending 27th - January 2020

What have been your efforts in the campaign for SaveWOY and what are your upcoming plans to save WOY? Now this is a question worth answering!

In the past, I made a little list of the things I did to support SaveWOY and bring awareness to Wander Over Yonder’s existence and its third season plans. Since then, I’ve done a whole lot more from hand-drawn art to more intricate art. Some of them are almost as special as that signed poster @peepsqueak got from the WOY crew as a token of their gratitude.

Here’s an updated list of everything I did for SaveWOY so far:

Attended the SaveWOY picnic at Griffith Park, where I got to sign a banner.

Pointed out various higher-ups involved in the business of Disney television.

Sent several letters to the higher-ups, some of which had envelopes with an image of the downed space pod taped to them.

Started a weekly Twitter post series, SaveWOY Thought of the Week.

Made Lite-Brite art of Wander and Lord Hater, which Craig McCracken and Francisco Angones liked.

Attended D23 2017 with an Operation: FORCE drawing of Hater, a colored page of Wander and Sylvia and a few facts about WOY, and an orange pen with a green hat (I got the hat from the aforementioned picnic) - there, I signed a bench with Wander and the phrase, “Never hurts to help.”

Signed my name, drew Wander (and my own character, Jacken DeBox), and wrote, “Happiest place in outer space!” on the highest beam for Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge.

Wrote a letter (and drew Wander) for the victims of the Las Vegas tragedy with the message, “The darkest times call for the sunniest smiles!”

Got Craig to reveal the name of the ship (said to play a BIG part in S3, made a cameo in Future-Worm) when I commented that we’d have to figure out the name - his response: “The ship is called The Star Nomad.”

Wrote a couple of cards to two Disney higher-ups with the message, “A little nice makes naughty think twice!”

Drew Dominator in a situation that might take place several seconds after she passes the downed space pod, just in time for Noël Wells’s B-day.

Made the Star Nomad with LEGO Digital Designer.

Made three images in the style of the original Star Wars trilogy VHS set.

Posted 50 WOYS3PredictionPolls on Twitter.

Made an image of “The First 5 Years” with over 140 individuals (including the question marks for 3 new mains and 2 new regulars - I still want to know what they look like!) and one cleverly made Hidden Mickey.

Shared WOY-related images from my 1st 5 Years fan art on Twitter acknowledging the B-days of most of the voice actors (Charlie Adler, Kevin Michael Richardson, Ken Marino, Josh Sussman, H. Michael Croner, James Adomian, Jason Ritter, and Piotr Michael clearly noticed).

Typed a summary of how I think the S3 premiere would go.

Typed lyrics to “Let’s Go Soarin’ and Explorin’,” a song from my aforementioned S3 premiere summary. Wouldn’t it be great if Andy Bean used it?

Made a microgame with WarioWare: D.I.Y. where the player has to spin the fan to make the Star Nomad fly. Part of a chorus from “Let’s Go Soarin’ and Explorin’” included.

Started FanCharacterFriday on Twitter - more Tumblr users seem to like Dr. Otmar Vunderbar.

Made a short comic page of Lord Hater trying to break out of the DTVA vault plus a sly reminder that Disney owns the rights to WOY.

Shared a list of potential episode titles for S3.

Made an actual LEGO Star Nomad based on the model made with LDD. Hopefully, those who worked on WOY have noticed. In case you missed it, here’s a picture...

Now, the ideas I have in mind for further boosting support for the campaign. I may not be able to do most of them myself, but they are certainly for everyone’s consideration.

Provide updated information of higher-ups (if any).

As soon as we find out what Kid Cosmic looks like, expect fan art of him saying, “Watch my show and tell your friends so we’ll make that Mousey Company pay for what they did to my half-brother!”

Another SaveWOY picnic - if there’s one in my general area, you can count me in.

LP album artwork of My Fair Hatey.

A mural identical to that of Super Smash Bros. Ultimate consisting of not just characters from WOY, but also characters who were said to debut in S3 and characters who’d fit in perfectly, namely some of my OCs.

Pumpkin stencils of the main characters for Halloween.

Drawings of various WOY characters stuck on the ex-secret planet explaining why they need to leave said planet. Maybe I could also show how the galaxy’s villains would react if they learn that Lord Dominator’s been bested by Lord Hater.

Drawings consisting of SaveWOY-related messages spoken by the main characters from Disney shows that got at least three seasons (e.g. DuckTales, Fish Hooks), tons of love from the viewers and the executives (e.g. Gravity Falls), or both (e.g. SvtFoE, Mickey Mouse ‘13).

Example with Phineas and Ferb:

Phineas: “We may be creative and famous, but we’re not the ones who came up with the Star Nomad. It’s the ship powered by orbbles! Orbbles! I’d LOVE to see it take flight, wouldn’t you? If you let Mr. McCracken end the show his way, and not the executive way, which, truth be told, is the absolute worst, Wander will surely be elated!”

Ferb: “The Orbble Transporter was invented by conjoined twin brothers, voiced by the performers of the theme song.”

Irving (peeking in from the side): “Speaking of voices, the titular main character sounds JUST LIKE ME! How could you possibly resist?! And look, just because I’m the biggest fan of these guys (gesturing to P&F) doesn’t mean I have no interest in what’s planned for the furry orange fella!”

Since I’m a full-time Disneyland cast member, I should be able to make contacts with anyone who might have more clues about what S3 would entail. It might be a long shot, but if I’m able to convince Disney that WOY’s influence on my life boosted my chance at gaining employment at the company, they should understand.

A weekly Jeopardy-type pop quiz on Twitter - here’s the catch: you must refrain from finding information online when you read the answer (I bet you that the most hardcore fans of the most popular shows will get most of the questions wrong).

Example: This arachnomorph got his name from a dog tag he swallowed when he infiltrated a fish-shaped ship. He later became Lord Hater’s beloved pet.

-Who is Captain Tim?

Summaries of S3 episodes I made up myself a while back.

More fan-made characters - my most recent is an elected official of Cluckon, Mayor Spye C. Drumstick.

Conjuring a logo that best fits the status of S3/TV movie - Wander Over Yonder: The New Galaxy (the center would have the silhouette of the Star Nomad with Wander and Sylvia on it).

Brainstorming possible ideas for the three new main characters.

If all else fails, I suggest we make a web comic based on the hints we accumulated back in 2016 and what we learned from the cameo in Future-Worm’s finale. Team Sea3on has been taking that approach for SatAM Sonic the Hedgehog S3, though they are also making an animated version.

That’s about all I’ve got so far. In closing, I have several questions to ask as the new decade kicks off.

Disney executives: Are you even listening to us WOY fans? What more do you want? I’ve done so much for the campaign that I feel I’m entitled to know everything that was planned for WOY’s third and final season, especially now that I’m working full-time for your company. If you tell us what your demands are, we’d be happy to oblige.

@crackmccraigen: Are you aware of how hard the fans and I have been trying to talk Disney into giving you the chance for true closure? We’ll make sure we watch KC when it comes out on Netflix. If we’re lucky, we might see WOY get added to Disney+, where it should get that closure, assuming you’ll have finished KC your way before then.

@suspendersofdisbelief: I know you’re super busy with DuckTales and you love the plans for WOY S3 so much that you can’t bear to reveal it all in one post, but it’s been waaaay too long since we got any hints from you. Are there any other WOY S3-related facts you could describe in much greater detail? The campaign could do with more motivation.

Non-WOY fans: Are you convinced? Need I remind you what’s in the end tag of the “last” episode of WOY? You know there’s much more to life than tales from the land of Ooo, a blue middle school cat boy in a world of unusual individuals, adolescent twins in an Oregon town filled with oddities, a half-gem half-human protagonist, a coming-of-age princess of Mewni, a trio of ursine trend-followers in San Francisco, and all that jazz. If you’re not one bit interested in Hater’s origin story and all that was planned for S3, it’s your loss.

Pessimists: Will you please dispense with this unnerving “Wander is dead” talk? As a certain Popeye would say, “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more!” You’re not trying to let the Disney bosses win, are you? You probably used to think previously canceled shows like Hey Arnold!, Samurai Jack, and Young Justice could never be brought back. The point is, all is not lost.

@peepsqueak and WOY fans/SaveWOY supporters: Have I been of assistance? Almost every remark I’ve ever made shows wit and perception. I mean, just think. Wander is still stuck in that vault where his goal of reforming Lord Hater remains incomplete, and he has no idea of what threat awaits him. He says, “Glorn, help us.” It’ll take something big and extraordinary to convince every Disney fan (and perhaps every Netflix fan) to talk some sense into the higher-ups. Not to mention the replacement/back-up voice actors we’ll have to find if Disney takes even longer (we already lost one - René Auberjonois). We shan’t rest until we get the answers!

@disneyanimation

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totalvibration · 4 years

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55 Albums Released in 2019 That Splash Oat Milk In My Earl Grey

This year felt like slo-mo, a holding pattern and a fast-forward button stumbling towards unknown ends. I spent the early months in paternal bliss and sleep deprivation, caring for my newborn daughter, then spent the rest of the year running to slow down… to make the most of small moments with my family, to juggle that thing every lifestyle magazine calls the work-life balance, to know when I need help and being willing to ask for it, to making priorities with loved ones.

Also, after years of oolongs and a staunch no-milk-in-tea-except-milk-teas policy, I started putting honey and oat milk in my Earl Grey, an old tea standby that's felt warmly familiar in colder months. Similarly, I dug my heels into familiar-to-me gnarly metal, deep drone and abrasive punk this year, uninterested in poptimist takes on indie-rock. In an effort to maximize more time with new family and less with bulls***, I leaned hard into my Viking's Choice column at NPR Music (which went weekly!) to shout out underground debauchery and beauty to anyone who would listen.

Below are 55 albums (and a few reissues and archival releases) that hit me in different ways over 2019. No ranking, just links out to Bandcamp where available. They come paired with emoji because that's a thing I do on Twitter.

See also:

Viking's Choice: The Year In The Loud And The Weird (my annual year-end episode of All Songs Considered)

20 Punk Albums Released In 2019 That Flip Eggs, Pick Up Chains

20 Metal Albums Released In 2019 That Bluurgh Over Sick Riffs

A nine-hour playlist of 2019 jamz

But first, some stray thoughts:

Ta-Nehisi Coates' still-ongoing Captain America run has been extremely rewarding. A beloved superhero comes to terms with the line between patriotism and nationalism as Coates underlines that American progress often comes from reluctance.

Daniel Warren Johnson's Murder Falcon spoke to me not only as a metalhead who loves cartoonishly kick-ass violence, but also as a dude with a tender heart… that final issue still gets me in the feels.

Krzysztof Kieślowski's Three Colours is secretly a trilogy of movies about the loving, painstaking process of creation, specifically music. I'd never seen any of them until paternity leave (and a sleeping baby) gave me hours to binge long-neglected to-watch lists. In 1993's Blue, in particular, a composition mirrors the grief of Juliette Binoche in an exquisite performance.

Tiny Desk concerts I produced for NPR Music in 2019: American Football (with a children’s choir!), Thou, Erin Rae, Carly Rae Jepsen (sort of), Jimmy Eat World and Mount Eerie (videos coming in 2020).

There’s a gallery at Glenstone, a truly stunning museum experience, that’s literally just a room full of books, a sculpted wooden bench and a large window that looks out on the rolling hills of Maryland. I could spend hours there.

The second season of KCRW's Lost Notes, hosted by Jessica Hopper, built episodes like albums, sequenced with eureka moments throughout. See: the story of a teenage Farsi New Wave sibling duo and a difficult and necessary reassessment of John Fahey through the women in his life.

High Spirits (May 7, Atlas Brew Works) is such a force for good. Heavy metal singalongs about love, friendship and positivity. I feel like this band needs to tour with Sheer Mag to be fully appreciated by an unknowing audience.

Has your baseball team ever won the pennant with the sleeping baby on your chest? So many silent screams of joy in our household as the Nats not only won the National League, but the whole dang World Series. I haven't lived in a city/state with a baseball team that's gone to the World Series since 1995.

Circuit Des Yeux's Haley Fohr (Dec. 5, Hirshhorn) tuned her voice to feedback hum and the rest that followed felt like a wordless eulogy for 2019. I felt renewed by it.

I can't think of a prettier song released in 2019 than "This Time Around" by Jessica Pratt. It is saudade whispered into the wind.

This was my Linda Ronstadt year. Heart Like a Wheel, Canciones de mi Padre, her records with the Stone Poneys — the Queen of LA, with a voice that both bursts out of and melts into dusk, softened the edges of long days with an equally adventurous and easygoing spirit.

🚙 Petrol Girls, Cut & Stitch: In 2019, it was crucial — life-affirming and -saving, even — to make your own noise. "This is the sound / It moves in our bodies / It passes through time / Brings what came before us," Petrol Girls' Ren Aldridge screamed at the top of a turbulent punk record filled with compassion. That boundless philosophy resonated with me this year — to listen and absorb more deeply, to excavate the traces of memory in music.

👽 Blood Incantation, Hidden History of the Human Race: Simultaneously exists in the gaping maw of death-metal tradition and the galaxy brain of its future.

💾 Kali Malone, The Sacrificial Code: Seeks the solemnity of the drone in the pipe organ, but leans into the vulnerability pushed through the air.

🕹️ billy woods & Kenny Segal, Hiding Places: An album-length self-excavation that crawls through moldy memories in a brutal poetry that is at times darkly funny but mostly wrestles with personal and societal truths that'll leave you touched, shook.

📟 Holly Herndon, PROTO: One of our deepest thinkers went to the past to make music from the future.

🚨 Rakta, Falha Comum: Creepazoid emanations from a subterranean plane.

🐣 Sunwatchers, Illegal Moves: Ecstatic protest music summoning the beauty and rage of Alice Coltrane, Sonny Sharrock, Rhys Chatham and Hawkwind.

🏞 Bill Orcutt, Odds Against Tomorrow: The most engaging, radical, but surprisingly accessible solo guitar album of the year. Bill Orcutt's ragged-yet-tender guitar skronk gives shaggy texture to rapturous melodies.

🍕 Control Top, Covert Contracts: This hits some dance-punky Erase Errata sweet spots for me, but with the technical finesse of a power trio.

🚟 Real Life Rock & Roll Band, Hollerin' the Spirit: Applies minimalist techniques to rumbling, dueling guitar histrionics with a reckless, but locked-in energy. Never woulda thunk American Football and Henry Flynt could hoedown together.

🐠 Caroline Shaw & Attacca Quartet, Orange: Balances austere beauty with rumbling earth. Riveting music for string quartet.

💥 Mdou Moctor, Ilana (The Creator): Where ZZ Top bombast, Black Sabbath riffs and Tuareg trance rhythms swirl into an acid-rock stomp.

👑 Vagabon, Vagabon: Goes so many places, yet always returns home.

🎭 JPEGMAFIA, All My Heroes Are Cornballs: A neon-freaked feast blasted in slow mo and fast forward all at once.

🌆 Denzel Curry, ZUU: Dude's a metal rapper without a metal band, but if he ever started one, I'm down 100 percent.

💨 Whistling Arrow, Whistling Arrow: An avant UK supergroup of prepared guitar, violin, electronics and hypnotic percussion drinks deep of dark lagers and mossy earth.

🐸 101 Notes on Jazz: Things are getting hard around the boloney hole...

🐳 M. Sage, Catch a Blessing: Warm, fuzzy world-building from blocks of sound stretched and warped into a new nostalgia.

🚇 Mizmor, Cairn: Deliberate and patient in its annihilating pace; lumbering, yet regally melodic riffs echo into a chasm of feedback.

🌅 Takafumi Matsubara, Strange, Beautiful And Fast: Next-level grind from the Gridlink mastermind and friends. While No One Knows What the Dead Think picked up where Discordance Axis left off, Takafumi Matsubara shreds into the future.

🐎 American Football, LP3: A reunion that keeps on giving and growing. Impressionistic in its quietly bursting arrangements and attuned to the individual talents of its vocal guests, especially that stunning duet with Hayley Williams.

🔋 v/a, Seitō: In the Beginning, Woman Was the Sun: This compilation does for modern Japanese women in experimental music what P.S.F.’s Tokyo Flashback comps did for the Japanese psychedelic scenes of yore.

👗 Carly Rae Jepsen, Dedicated: Didn't hold together as much as I wanted, or play like E•MO•TION's late-night mixtape, but every time one of its singles popped up on a friend's playlist -- "Julien," "Want You in My Room," "The Sound" and especially the slow-burn synth-pop exhaustion of "Too Much" -- I'd think, "Carly Rae Jepsen is the Queen of the Song I Needed Right Now."

🌕 Rong, wormhat: Just bonkers. Boston's Rong channels the joyous chaos of Japanese punks Melt-Banana and the aggro skronk of Brainiac with a tad of Deerhoof's weirdo-pop hooks.

✊🏿 Sounds of Liberation, Sounds of Liberation / Unreleased Columbia University 1973: Free jazz and funk band deep in spiritual grooves. Killer performances all around, but such a trip to hear more from young vibraphonist Khan Jamal during his Drum Dance to the Motherland era.

🐬 Great Grandpa, Four of Arrows: If Sixpence None the Richer made an emo record, but only had Return of the Frog Queen on the mood board.

📳 Sarah Louise, Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars: One of my favorite guitarists right now. Digitally processes melodies and single notes in an electronic elation landing somewhere between Robert Fripp, Alice Coltrane and Terry Riley.

📮 Sarah Hennies, Reservoir 1: An immersive sound cycle in constant motion, a quiet rumble that slowly transforms in and out of a glorious clatter.

👣 Psychedelic Speed Freaks, Psychedelic Speed Freaks: Munehiro Narita essentially picks up where High Rise left off, still plays the guitar like it's about to blow up.

🍩 Town Portal, Of Violence: Most instrumental post/prog-rock puts me to sleep, but this Danish trio illustrates just how dynamic and sound-rich this music can be.

🛀 Jim O'Rourke, steamroom 45: An electronic excavation from the deep abyss. The 37-minute "Sigaretstraat" is a master class in patience, dynamics and sublime dissonance.

🎀 Cristina Quesada, I Think I Heard a Rumor: Multi-lingual, ultra-chic dance-pop with super-smart synth arrangements. Think: Tiki drinks and mod dresses.

⏹ John Luther Adams, Become Desert: Truly time-less music; as in, music without time.

⏏ Julia Reidy, brace, brace: Late night, longform excursions that offer an alternate Blade Runner soundtrack with frenzied 12-string, fuzzy synth glossolalia and an Auto-Tuned bummer haze.

🚞 A Million Dollars, I Love Your Voice and I Love You: Weird and warped twee-pop that woulda headlined Silent Barn.

📠 Priests, The Seduction of Kansas: Truth-telling and truth-seeking through a mangled disco haze and bleak New Wave romanticism.

🏭 Werner Durand with Amelia Cuni and Victor Meertens, processions: Majestic drones capture an undulating wonder with enveloping somnolence.

🎳 Sheer Mag, A Distant Call: The denim-and-leather-jacket-wearing standard bearers of truly independent rock and roll double-downed on their sound, but opened their hearts a bit more.

📒 Susan Alcorn / Joe McPhee / Ken Vandermark, Invitation to a Dream: Illuminates the flickering motions of exploration.

😱 Serpent Column, Mirror in Darkness: Pitch-black metal chaos with forceful melodies twisted into the tableau. Honestly? Deathspell Omega but skramz.

🏅 Pernice Brothers, Spread the Feeling: Joe Pernice digs into his '80s record collection to return with some of his most delicately written, winsome guitar-pop in years and tons of one-liners: "Love is a shoeless charlatan, a silver-tongued huckster with a sadist’s lipless grin."

🍓 Kalie Schorr, Open Book: Whip-smart, hook-twanged country-pop raised on MTV2 pop-punk and Sheryl Crow.

📀 Angel Olsen, All Mirrors: In a year where we lost Scott Walker, this felt like a torch passed from 1969.

😪 Mount Eerie, Lost Wisdom pt. 2: Phil Elverum draws us in evermore, revisiting a beloved album, mode and collaborator (the remarkable Julie Doiron), and molding them into his ever-changing songwriting and circumstance. Contains the most tender couplet of the year, which I'll carry with me always: "If ever the bonfire that I carry around could warm you again / I will be out here in the weather for you glowing."

🙉 75 Dollar Bill, I Was Real: Serious hypno-grooves from these drone excavators.

👢 Karen Marks, Cold Cafe: The early '80s artist behind the Sky Girl comp's broodiest track gets a few more songs of existential synth-pop and jangly post-punk. Just wanna put them on mixtapes for friends.

🍻 Haunt, If Icarus Could Fly: Synthesizes an earnest, studied love for '80s heavy metal with tons of guitar harmonies and can-crushing anthems, yes, but also a ton of heart.

🍖 Bob Dylan, The Rolling Thunder Revue: The strangest, most mystical and wild Dylan persona in all of its face-painted glory.

🌹 A Pregnant Light, Broken Play: Damian Master's endless creativity and shameless bravado coalesce into a rugged beauty. As always, riffs for days.

🦄 Fire-Toolz, Field Whispers (Into the Crystal Palace): Clashes New Age synthscapes, clubby raves, jazz fusion and metal shrieks into an idiosyncratic master's pure creation.

🌇 Maria W Horn, Epistasis: Quiet, yet forceful acoustic elements are wrapped in the sinews of technology to blur composition. A stirring mix of icy string drones and minimalist piano.

🐲 Soul Glo, The N**** in Me Is Me: Distills the rage and terror of living in America while being black with blunt force.

🍢 Mára, Here Behold Your Own: Snapshots of a time before parenthood rendered in garbled organ, ambient guitar loops and echoing lullabies. Felt this one deeply.

🚙 The Go-Betweens, G Stands for Go-Betweens: The Go-Betweens Anthology - Volume 2: There's a live KCRW version of "Quiet Heart" that just absolutely destroys me. Deeply thankful for the presentation and preservation that's gone into these box sets.

😈 Bat for Lashes, Lost Girls: A coming-of-age concept album about a teenage vampire gang that was somehow severely overlooked. Some of Natasha's most tender songwriting and a rich synth-pop world that'd make M83 jealous.

#2019 in music

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grouchomarxiste-blog1 · 4 years

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Bong Joon-Ho’s Parasite: Marx and Violence

Warning: A majority of this was written pre-pandemic, so please excuse my overly optimistic tone. It was a different time.

Yes, another Bong Joon-Ho film. Can you blame me? The guy’s a genius. Parasite was another one of those great films that will never leave you. You can watch the movie simply without doing a major analysis in your head and you will still agree that it’s a great movie. Which personally, is why I believe it's made its way into the major American awards season. Parasite winning Best Foreign Film at the Golden Globes was one of the few decisions I’ve agreed with. I didn’t see any of the winners in the film categories besides Parasite, and I’m very much ok with that. It’s making its way into Hollywood and the favorite lists of celebrities. Elon Musk said he loved Parasite (he also turned Grimes, the former “anti-imperialist,” to the mother of his future child). Chrissy Teigen loved Parasite (a lot can be said about her, so let’s not). Obama loved Parasite (but I have some serious doubts about the authenticity of his yearly favorites list. Mainly because I can’t imagine him listening to Summer Walker). I was completely boggled at all of those tweets. How? How is one so blind? How did one watch Parasite and not feel a thing? After I watched Parasite, I rushed back to school to attend the discussion section of my Political Theory class so I could read and discuss primitive accumulation through dispossession with revolutionary fervor. I recommended it to everyone near me. I even wrote a note to my professor who tucked it into his book. But is that the problem- that all these beloved figures (not mine) end up loving the sheer adrenaline of the story and tweet to their followers about how great the movie is. Those followers, with their favorite celebrities’ seal of approval, watch the movie, not putting it together either. Bong Joon-Ho is critiquing those very figures! In every post-Parasite interview, Bong Joon-Ho has said that Parasite is about America and capitalism, but we have just reduced those statements to memes on Twitter. As funny as they are, Parasite is rich for its class analysis. The Hollywood reaction is just as important. Marx is all over this movie, there's no question about it. I also want us to understand these controversial moments from a Fanonian perspective, again all with relation to Marx. I hope for us to understand that everything about this movie is intentional and every bit of it is worth pages and pages of discussion. I nearing 11 pages as I write this. I also hope that this film can be a way for us to understand economic exploitation in the 21st century. While many celebrities have misunderstood it, it is important that you, us, the people, the working class, grasp every bit of this radical film.

I’m not going to bother with another one of my “brief summary” because I’m assuming, we’ve all seen it. It's on Hulu now and I believe Apple TV. If you don’t want to pay for either platforms, watch a pirated version online, I genuinely don’t think Bong will mind.

I want to talk about the home. I know we all had the same reaction to that beautiful home: awe, admiration, and envy. The Park’s home itself is significant, but also in contrast to the Kims’ home. The Kim’s live in a small semi-basement home, where they have to reach up in order to look out their window and see the street level. Their home is dirty, cramped, just not a place where anyone wants to be. But immediately, I thought of Fanon and the native sector. I know that Parasite isn’t about colonialism, but space is important to Marx (I’ll return to Fanon). In The Communist Manifesto, Marx and Engels attribute many things to the process of proletarianization. To name a few: literacy campaigns and public education, the politicization of the proletariat towards the end of feudalism, expansion of media, etc. One that stands out, is the mass migration and urbanization of the proletariat. Through that, the proletariat was concentrated into the poorest parts of the city where they shared their most intimate quarters with workers like themselves (Marx and Engels, 15) One might dismiss this as a historical example specific to Europe, but if we go back to my thoughts on Memories of Murder, we’d note how Korea’s transition to a modern capitalist society, was a fairly recent one (from 1987 onwards). As the agricultural sector suffered, Koreans living in the rural provinces were forced to move into the major cities. Park (Song Kang-Ho’s character in Memories) was lucky enough to become a successful businessman, unlike the Kims who earn their livelihood by holding pizza boxes- the most insignificant work. Along with urbanization, the proletariat also occupied the small space of the factory, where they are reminded of the everyday brutality of their work. The Park’s home is not cramped, but the one scene where everyone is rushing to hide from them, results in Ki-taek, Ki-jeong, and Ki-woo hiding underneath a coffee table overnight. After that lengthy battle with Geun-sae and Moon-gwang, the Kims are exhausted. They do not want to be laying side by side hearing the Parks have sex. My friend Sef also reminded me that the Parks had weird sex as Mr. Park recalled how their old chauffeur possibly had sex with a drugged-up prostitute, a scenario that previously made Mrs. Park scream out of disgust. Revisiting this, I believe this definitely deserves a psychoanalytic analysis.

This isn’t their breaking point, but also hearing Mr. Park say that Ki-taek smells like the subway is a factor. Once making their break they run outside where it's raining heavily. They come to their home which is flooded and destroyed. Here is where I’ll start talking about Fanon. [READ NOTE]. Again, I know the colonial system is not the case in Parasite. Fanon was a Marxist and expanded on Marxist theory in the colonial context. I just want to warn you that I am using Fanon as carefully as possible, not using concepts that are distinctly racial. I know there’s probably also much more relevant work out there on spatiality and violence, but I think Fanon’s prose style in The Wretched of the Earthis quite appropriate for the film. Let’s consider the colonial bourgeoisie as the Parks and the natives as the Kims. Fanon calls the colonial world, a “compartmentalized world.” The colonists’ sector is clean and protected whereas the native sector is overcrowded, envious, and starving. Sounds about right so far.

The colonist’s sector is a sector built to last, all stone and steel. It’s a sector of lights and paved roads, where the trash cans constantly overflow with strange and wonderful garbage, undreamed-of leftovers. The colonizer’s feet can never be glimpsed, except perhaps in the sea, but then again you can never get close enough. They are protected by solid shoes in a sector where the streets are clean and smooth., without a pothole, without a stone… The colonized’s sector or at least the “native” quarters, the shanty town, the Medina, the reservation, is a disreputable place, inhabited by disreputable people. You are born anywhere, anyhow. You die anywhere, from anything. It’s a world with no space, people are piled one on top of each other. (Fanon, 4)

This becomes extremely relevant when the Kims run out of the Parks’ home in the pouring rain. I kept noticing that they were all barefoot, only focused on getting out of there. My toes curled in the movie theater watching that. Running away from that traumatic house to find your own home destroyed, relocating to a displacement camp, THEN going to work the next day for your unaffected employer who has the audacity to audibly take a sniff of you. I don't know about you, but to me, this sounds like the conditions for a proletarian revolution. Besides the literal allegory, the tone sharply shifts. One could argue that it began to change when they found Geun-sae in the bunker or when Moon-gwang hit her head but that was just some good old dark comedy for me. After the flooding, things are different. Ki-taek has this unmoving face. Things turned grim and we knew something climactic was about to happen. Fanon’s most famous chapter, “Concerning Violence,” maintains that decolonization will always be a violent event because colonialism is a violent system itself. Something that I absolutely love about this chapter is that it isn’t some dense, theoretical work. It’s a revolutionary call to arms for all colonized people. It has a strategic pace which parallels Parasite so well. He sets the scene- the compartmentalized, Manichaen world. He slowly intensifies the antagonistic relationship between the colonizer and the colonized, until this culminating point:

The colonized subject thus discovers that his life, his breathing and his heartbeat are the same as the colonist’s. He discovers that the skin of the colonist is not worth more than the “natives.” In other words, his world receives a fundamental jolt. The colonized’s revolutionary new assurance stems from this. If no longer strike fear into me or nail me to the spot and his voice can no longer petrify me. I am no longer uneasy in his presence. In reality, to hell with him. Not only does his presence no longer bother me, but i am already preparing to waylay him in such a way that he will no longer have any solution but to flee (Fanon, 10)

As corny as it sounds, when I first read that, it brought me to tears. I’m not sure if it was just because I was up for three days straight writing my midterm and I was finally breaking, or because it just meant that much to me. But that section in which the colonized discoversthat his life is worth as much as the colonizer is such a crucial moment. This parallels the infamous birthday scene. Geun-sae gets out of the bunker, stabs Ki-jung, the Park’s kid (I’ll look his name up later) has a seizure, and Chong-sook is wrestling with Geun-sae. Shit is going down. If we recall, Mrs. Park mentioned that it takes a few minutes for her son to die after a seizure and needs to go to the hospital immediately. So much is going on and Mr. Park starts screaming at Ki-taek to give him the keys. Ki-taek is immobilized at this point. His daughter has been stabbed, son attacked, wife almost killed, the Parks’ got him dressed up in some cultural appropriation, Hollywood Indian regalia. In fact, I find it very fitting that he’s dressed up as a Native American at this moment. I see this as Bong’s satirical nod to old ultra-capitalist Hollywood. But if enough wasn't going on, Mr. Park sniffed. He got close to Geun-sae, a man who’s been living underground for 3 years and audibly sniffed him in disgust. The same way that he sniffed Ki-taek. Of course, there’s probably a difference between a “subway” smell vs. “I haven't showered in 3 years” smell but at the moment it feels as if it's almost the same thing. In my initial viewing, I thought what happened next was because of that, but no. Ki-taek realized that his life was worth the same as the Parks, and their presence no longer bothers him, but he is now plotting against him, and the time of action is now. Ki-taek stabs Mr. Park and flees. Annoyingly, the YouTube section for this clip is filled with people feeling bad for the Parks and discussing how what Ki-taek did was wrong. Of course, the average viewer will view the Parks as some sympathetic rich suckers who only treated the Kims kindly. The casual reader who picks up Fanon for the first time would also dismiss his theory of violence as immoral in comparison to non-violent methods like Gandhi’s. A lot can be said about Gandhi, but Fanon says that non-violence is a strategy created by the colonizer to deter decolonization and paint the colonizer as a gentle ruler who wants peace. This is not the case. Colonialism is a violent system. Capitalism is a violent system. Colonialism can only be undone violently. Capitalism can only be undone violently. Now I don't mean to make this all about colonialism, as my friends say I often do. But the similarities are clear. The question isn’t whether the murder of Mr. Park was a justified act, but what were the conditions that forced Ki-taek to murder. Geun-sae killed Ki-jung, but no one in the comment section is having a debate on whether his murder was ethical. Because in our heads we feel bad for him, and the life that he’s lived- why don’t we feel the same towards Ki-taek? Geun-sae and Ki-taek are two sides of the same coin. Geun-sae’s exploitation is naked. He’s confined to the basement, controlling the lights of the home. A feature of the house that Mr. Park doesn't even pay attention to, never mind considering that there is someone manually operating it. A clear example of how our labor is alienated. All while blindly worshipping Mr. Park- a man who knows nothing of his existence. Honestly, I hope some of you see yourselves in Geun-sae the next time you defend billionaires online. But Ki-taek is just another exploited worker. I understand this can be hard to understand in our current understanding of the world. How is Ki-taek exploited? Him and his family conned their way into their jobs and leech off of the Parks. Again, we must return to the system as a whole to understand. None of this wouldn’t have happened if the Kims weren’t desperately poor in a capitalist society, which enables families like the Parks, to live a life of excess at the expense of the Kims. Capitalism is a system of exploitation; we cannot forget that. Quite simply, no one is rich without thousands that are poor.

The levels of the home are also this unforgettable feature. I just want to make this quick note about the issue of the ghost. Did you forget about the ghost? Da-Song didn’t (yes, I finally looked his name up!). I find the story of the ghost such an interesting touch. Not just as a way for Bong to warn the audience about Da-Song’s history of seizures. When Mrs. Park tells Chung-sook of the story, she says “they say a ghost in the house brings wealth.” This, of course, is true since the exploitation of those like Geun-sae are responsible for the wealth of the Parks, in the larger picture. I’d like to look further into this. There's a twofold meaning to this. I do believe that this ghost is symbolic to the exploitation of the Kims, and the proletariat in general, but that’s Mrs. Park’s understanding of this ghost. The way she understands this ghost, is as a source of wealth. Maybe Mrs. Park isn’t as ditzy as we imagine- she to some degree, understands her class position. But like most, she doesn’t question the ghost, or her class position. She knows that if she looks into either, it would result in the ugly truth. Da-Song, however, is just a child. He’s too young to really understand the economic and social relations which are responsible for his wealth. He’s also too young to consciously suppress any desire to investigate the matter like his mother. He is a child after all and is naturally curious. But his first encounter with the ghost was the one that resulted in a near fatal seizure. This can be his body’s reaction to the life-threatening figure of a ghost. The ghost isn’t just a threat to his mortal life, but his wealth, some may argue that these are the same. Mrs. Park pays for therapy for his “trauma” so he could forget the event, but he still knows. He saw this ghost and is the only one to seriously consider its threat. Mrs. Park knows it's real but chooses to not think about it. I want to return to the Manifesto. Let's hear these famous words: “A specter is haunting Europe- the specter of communism… Two things result from this fact: Communism is already acknowledged by all European powers itself to be a power...” (Marx and Engels, 8). Don’t think I’m just including this because he’s talking about a specter, in fact, I think this story of the ghost is an intentional allusion to the specter of communism. Da-Song represents this figure of the bourgeoisie who is in constant anxiety over the threat of his wealth. When he reappears at his birthday party, he has another seizure. Also, at this time, the family, and all of their guests are witness to the horrors of their wealth and what it's created. This naked, hideous display, this moment of confrontation is a pivotal point in the dialectic. Of course, this murderous moment is not seen as a success to the viewer with Mr. Park, Ki-jung, and Geun-sae dead, Ki-woo presumed to be dead, and Ki-taek missing. This just shows us that the bourgeoisie are their own gravediggers- to again invoke the Manifesto. On a larger scale, this would be the moment of a revolution- but we don’t. Ki-woo survives with Chung-sook and is put on probation. Ki-taek is missing to the police, but Ki-taek realizes that he’s living in the bunker in hiding. Ki-woo declares that he will make enough money to buy the home and free his father. At first, I wondered “why couldn't he just sneak him out of the house when the new owners were asleep?” “Why did he have to buy the home?” As much as I wanted to portray the Kims to be revolutionary figures, Ki-woo has the common fate of most. Instead of usurping power from the bourgeoisie, he believes he can free his dad from the home, by owning the house. Everyone who lives in the basement is stuck there for a reason, because someone is forcing them to stay there. A perfect allegory for the relations of production as I have repeatedly mentioned throughout this text. Ki-woo desires a bourgeois life (as most working-class folk do!) in order to lift his father out of the despair of poverty. He believes the only way he can save his father is to own the home, which could easily be seen as the means of production. A nice touch which I had to look up, was as Ki-woo tells us of his desire to buy the home, a song plays called “546 years”- the amount of time it will take for him to earn enough money. I wish this song title was more obvious for the American viewer. I am not trying to take away from this film by saying that, but for a viewer who knows Korean or the song title, they’ll understand the tragic nature of his dreams. Whereas the American viewers will sympathize with his dreams- as we’ve done with immigrants and “the American Dream” or the bootstrapping mentality of some people. In some way I do think Bong didn’t want an overtly revolutionary ending. I don’t think the average viewer, especially in this day, could handle an ending like that. Not to say that we don't understand class inequality and such. We are not living in, say the 60s/70s where there were Marxist movements all throughout the world. I don’t think we have the conditions for a revolution at this moment, although I do think the mass unemployment and the other severe economic consequences of this virus will radicalize the working class in large numbers, to a degree that we haven't seen in a long time. But to make my point, I feel that we are living in historic political times and we are coming to understand ourselves in a liberating way. It is my hope that films like Parasite will awaken the revolutionary potential in us all.

Note: I wanted to use Fanon’s theory of violence and diagnosis of colonialism as a violent structure, in relation to capitalist society. I don’t want us to interpret his writings as something that can be isolated from the racial structure of colonialism, but i do think it is a beneficial guide to understanding this film.

Work Cited:

Philcox, Richard, translator. “On Violence.” The Wretched of the Earth, by Frantz Fanon, Grove Press, 2004.

Joon-Ho, Bong, director. Parasite. Barunson E&A, 2019.

Marx, Karl, and Frederick Engels. The Communist Manifesto. International Publishers, 1948.

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smileyseungmin · 4 years

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Works in Progress...

Wow so I swear I’m not just lazy im a bit lazy but I’m just busy and don’t have that much time to write a lot... however I do have some stories I am in the middle of writing that I am excited to post, soon hopefully, but I figured i would give a preview of each of them.

The Flower of Our Friendship

Throughout your life, there has always been two constants you could turn to, sunflowers and Jeongin. Jeongin being your best friend since childhood and sunflowers symbolizing that wonderful friendship you have with Jeongin. Yet, just like all flowers, sunflowers also have to die, withering away until there is nothing left. Being friends with an idol isn’t an easy task, yet you still try to manage. However, as Jeongin and his group grows in popularity and you start to face challenges of your own, this beloved friendship will truly become a sunflower, up until the fall of the last petal.

Preview:

"I never realized sunflowers were this tall!" Jeongin exclaimed loudly, eyes wide as he looked up at the beautiful yellow flowers that seemed to tower over everything. Sunflowers. They were vibrant with color, the yellow shining so brightly, it seemed to challenge the sun itself. Sunflowers. They stood tall with pride, looming over everything and showing everyone that nothing can get in its way. Sunflowers. They were truly a special flower.

"You know, sunflowers actually represent friendship and the special bond between friends." Jeongin looked at you with wonder in his eyes, surprised that you knew such a thing.

"Wow! Really?" You nodded your head confidently.

"Yup! My mom told me so."

"Wow… that's cool." There was a small period of silence between you two. "So that means that this is our flower."

You watched in confusion as Jeongin walked over to a patch of tiny sunflowers and picked two. He walked back over to and handed you one of the flowers with a big smile. You took it into your hands carefully, cradling it delicately as if it was made of precious porcelain. You looked back up at Jeongin with a smile wide enough to rival his.

"Yes, the sunflower is now our flower."

That moment was years ago, thirteen years ago to be exact and between that day and now, the sunflower was always a constant in your friendship with Jeongin. Every single time he saw a wild sunflower growing, he would pick a handful for you and give it to you the next time he saw you. You, on the other hand would constantly draw him sunflowers and he'd keep every single one in a special place in his room. Jeongin even bought matching necklaces for the both of you, a small locket that had a sunflower engraved onto it and a picture of the both of you securely placed in it.

Throughout those years, you saw your friendship with Jeongin grow and blossom into something beautiful and amazing. The two of you became inseparable. Two peas in a pod, each other's partners in crime. Despite all the friends that came and left, all the meaningless relationships you endured, and all the small crushes you ever had, the two of you stuck together, standing tall and strong like a sunflower.

However, sunflowers don't last forever. They sprout, they grow, they bloom. Their colors become so vibrant and absolutely stunning, people can't help and stare in awe. They peak in their absolute beauty, but then they fall. They start to droop, petals slowly fall away, touching the ground with a saddened silence. They lose their color, becoming dull and meaningless, catching the eye of no one. They slowly shrivel up, wither away, becoming smaller and smaller until there's nothing left, and they are left to decay.

Loose in the City

A string of mysterious murders have come up in Seoul that leaves the people and the police on edge. Long rivals y/n, one of the best detectives from the Violent Crimes department, and Lee Minho, the infamous detective from the Homicide department are forced to team up to solve this mystery of who is behind all of these seemingly unrelated deaths. However, as they dive deeper into this case, they start to dig up old cases that were left cold or hidden away for the public to forget. Secrets start to be revealed and questions can only be answered with more questions as y/n and Minho try to solve this never ending case.

Preview:

Terror ran wildly through his veins as he tried his absolute hardest to stay the quietest he has ever been. His breathing was so shallow he wasn’t even sure he was even breathing. He silently prayed to all the gods he ever knew that whoever was downstairs,whatever monster that entered his house would leave. That he wouldn’t even look toward the stairs that lead right to where he hid.

He didn't know how it even happened. He was simply lying on his bed, scrolling through Twitter when he heard it. The shattering of glass. The confused shouts. The ear piercing scream. He jumped from his bed and ran to the top of the stairs, but stopped short. He listened, but heard nothing. Not a single sound, aside from his short breaths. He took a step, ready to investigate the absence of sound, when he heard it.

THUD

The sound of something heavy hitting the ground. The sound of a body hitting the ground. He froze. He stopped breathing. That was the sound of one of his parents body's hitting the floor. His parents were dead, murdered by the hands of whoever was downstairs. He felt sick. Like he was going to throw up.

He slowly backed up from the stairs and locked himself in his room. He surveyed his room, trying to find the one thing that could grant him freedom. His phone. It was lying on his bed, screen gone black from the lack of usage in the past few minutes. Before he could even reach his phone however, he heard the unmistakable sound of footprints slowly making his way up the stairs.

Grabbing his phone, he stealthy ran over to his door, making sure it was locked and turned off the lights. The footsteps became louder and louder with each passing second and he knew that he was running out of time.

He hid in his closet. He knew that it wasn't that effective but it was the best he could think of. He wasn't listening to the footsteps anymore, too busy typing out a letter, meant to go to his best friend. No matter what happened to him, he was the one person who deserved to know what had happened to him. He didn't even bother to read it over, sending it as soon as it was finished.

He stared at the screen, the only thing that he actually cared about, not the fact that there was a murderer who was just outside his bedroom door, picking the lock or that his parents were dead in the living room. The only thing he cared about was if he had seen the message.

Someone called him, just as the closet doors swung open, but he couldn't see who it was. Instead he just screamed.

Happily Never After

The devil disguised as an angel. That’s the only way you could describe her. Your step sister, Yeji. The one that “had it terrible” and the one that you had “mistreated” It was all a lie, some story she made up to win the heart of the stunning prince, Hwang Hyunjin. Yet you knew that behind those striking eyes and beautiful smile, she was evil at heart, yet it was too late, because while you and your family was forced to stay in the town, she was able to ride away with her “true love” and get married and live her happily ever after. All was peaceful in the kingdom, that was until the King suddenly died in his sleep, and you knew, this was the work of your step sister, and so did someone else in the castle.You and this mystery person have to devise a plan to stop prince Hyunjin’s coronation from happening before Yeji becomes Queen and kills Hyunjin, becoming the sole ruler of the kingdom.

Preview:

Everyone knows the story of Cinderella. How the unfortunate girl who lost her mother, then later her father, was forced to live under the rule of her cruel stepmother and awful step sisters. Then she met the dashing prince and it was love at first sight. They dance, gracing the ballroom with their beauty. That was until the clock struck twelve and she was forced to leave the prince behind, but not without leaving something for the prince. He scours the entire kingdom, looking for the one and he does, but not after dealing with her terrible family. They rejoice and ride together back to the castle, leaving the family behind in the hands of karma. A touching story really, except for it really isn’t. It’s quite the opposite actually. The infamous fairy tale has it all wrong. That unfortunate girl didn't live an awful life. She wasn't mistreated and she surely did not deserve the life that she got. Her step family wasn't cruel to her. They never forced her to become a servant of her own house, they never ridiculed her and tore her pretty dresses up. They never prevented her from going to that ball. But she was manipulative, twisting her words to make them seem like the bad guy, to win over the heart of the prince, to make her seem like the innocent dove in a horrendous tragedy. She knew of the power that she held and she took advantage of that, earning her the life that an evil person did not deserve.

"Everyone gather around! This is a message from the royal family!" A voice cried out, drawing out the villagers from their homes, confusion adorning their features. You heard the sound of hooves thundering against the ground and the silhouette of a nobleman from the castle came into view. The nobleman came to a halt in the middle of the market, making sure that he had the attention of everyone before speaking.

"I am Minho, a nobleman from the royal family and the King's adviser. It is with great sadness that I announce that the King peacefully passed away in his sleep." Shocked gasps and concerned murmurs filled the streets, everyone looking at each other for confirmation. “A private funeral was requested by the royal family, and the coronation for the prince will be due within these upcoming weeks. More details will be announced when the invitations are handed out.”

The sound of the horses faded away as you stared in disbelief. The King… dead? There was no way, the King was perfectly fine and healthy last week when he visited the village. You had a sinking feeling that this perhaps wasn't an unfortunate tragedy. You knew that your step sister had to be behind this, there was no way she wasn't.

I have some others but these are the main three I am focusing on as of right now.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #wips

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