sayoneee

[sayoneee]

omg im gonna assault tumblr it never told me u answered my ask 😔😔 BUT IM GOOD IVE BEEN BUSY W SCHOOL AND SM DRAMA ALREADY I HATE OCTOBER 😭

this is my canon event rn ong

BUT HOWS UNI OMG WHAT LESSONS R U TAKING

HI OMG YEAH TUMBLR DOES THAT TO ME HELLA. CAN U BELIEVE ITS ALREADY NOVEMBER???

DUDE. UNI IS AWFUL (I LOVE IT IM JUST BEEFING WITH MY CHEM PROF RN). but im taking second semester general chem, ethnic studies (grad req.), philosophy, abnormal psych, & music appreciation honors (program req.)

WBU HOWS SCHOOL WHAT LESSONS R U TAKING

[sayoneee]

notice how linkedin isn’t on maslow’s hierarchy of needs

[sayoneee]

hii kashh how are u doing these days its been so long 😔😔

HELLO AMORA I AGREE ITS BEEN A HOT MINUTE

ive started uni and im sooo busy all the time omfg

HOW ARE U

[sayoneee]

in the buff | jason todd

Summary: The one where you learn firsthand that Jason Todd sleeps in the nude.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings/tags: best friend jason, awkwardness, nudity, reader hardcore thirsting over jaytodd, love confessions, humor (attempts at it, anyway), silliness. inspired by this post!

the divider

There's been a huge (blessed) development in the drug ring case that you and Jason are working on. You can hardly sleep now.

Normally, you'd call or text Jason, even though he's usually already in the know. It's possible that you just like having an excuse to call him, but who can confirm such a thing?

But it's late, probably too late to call, considering Jason doesn't answer his phone unless it's pinged directly to his helmet after a certain time, courtesy of his family being "a buncha jackasses" (his words, obviously).

But maybe it's not too late for a visit. After all, Jason patrols late, and has insane insomnia. He very well could be awake at this late hour. And he's never minded you dropping by before.

In truth, you haven't seen Jason in a few days and you feel restless now when you go longer than a day without seeing each other. You're not quite sure why that is.

So here you are, disabling the window alarm on Jason's apartment. Partly for a case, partly for your own benefit.

It takes a few minutes but you manage to open the window without anyone calling the police or whacking you with a broom. You slide open the window mostly soundlessly. Then you wait. The room remains dark and quiet.

You're pretty proud of yourself actually. It's not that you're green when it comes to spycraft, but you're certainly no Batman.

Still, you've managed to sneak into Jason's apartment without waking him. The Red Hood. You peek in to check if he's really asleep.

And he is, dark hair stark against the white pillow. It sticks out in messy tufts. You can't see past Jason's neck and his freckled arms, illuminated by the orange streetlight outside. You put your laptop bag on the floor.

He's sleeping on his stomach, facing away from you, but you're very endeared by how he's curled up under his sheet, hands tucked under his pillow. If you went really close to his face, you could count his eyelashes. Jason has such pretty eyelashes.

That's a perfectly normal thought to have about your best friend, right? Boys have pretty eyelashes. You're just making an observation.

You're bewildered by how cold the room is, surprised that Jason can withstand such a temperature. Maybe it's a Pit thing.

You watch him for a moment longer. Guilt pools in your gut. Are you really going to wake him when he's probably just gone to bed in the last hour? It takes Jason so long to fall asleep, you know that.

...

No, you should let him sleep. You can work on the case in the morning.

You bend down to get your laptop bag. In that time, the light flicks on.

You flinch, turn around, and find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun.

Said gun is held by an extremely naked Jason Todd.

"Oh my God!" you say at the same time Jason realizes his mistake.

"What the fuck!" he shouts, grabbing a pillow to cover himself.

But not before you get an eyeful of your best friend's, er, weaponry.

"Why are you naked?" you shout, gaze darting everywhere. Good Lord, it's seared into your retinas. You're never getting the image of Jason's dick out of your brain.

"Why are you in my apartment?" Jason snaps back.

"No, my question is way more urgent," you say.

"No the hell it's not! You broke in! I'm allowed to be naked in my apartment!"

"Okay. Alright. I came because there's been a development in our case. I thought we could work on it together but when I realized you were asleep for real, I decided to leave."

Jason rolls his eyes. "You know I'm a light sleeper. I just went to bed. I was up late.”

Realization strikes you. Could it be...?

"Oh my God. Do you have someone here?" you ask, voice sinking to a whisper.

"I have you here," Jason says irritably.

"No, like—" You make a hole with one hand and stick a finger into it. "Y'know..."

"Jesus, no!" Jason's face twists in disgust. "C'mon!"

"Okay, chill out, Jay-Jay. It'd be fine if you did. I can keep a secret," you say, shrugging. People have sex. You know that. You've never thought about Jason having sex, but you suppose it's possible. Why not? Just because you've never had sex and you always hoped that Jason would be your first doesn't mean that he would. If he's moved on in his life, then you should too.

Jason scoffs. "Yeah, okay. You think anybody would get into bed with a headcase like me?"

Hope rekindles. You're not behind. Jason's right there with you, virginity firmly intact.

He puts the safety back on the gun, squishing the pillow against himself with his elbow. You watch in fascination at his multitasking. Jason starts to turn around to put the gun behind the headboard before clearly thinking twice about mooning you.

"So... why are you naked?" you ask, respectfully keeping your eyes north of the equator.

"If you must know, I sleep in the nude. Now turn around."

You don't turn around. "In the nude?"

Jason's eye twitches. "Yes, nude. It's better for your body and it's more comfortable and I don't—"

You pull a face. "Who says in the nude? How old are you, a hundred?"

"That's what you're harping on?" Jason asks. "You broke into my apartment!"

You hold up a finger. "I didn't break in, I disarmed the alarm like you taught me."

"Yeah, which was only for emergencies. This isn't an emergency. Now turn around!"

So you turn around. You hear the pillow fall and the image returns. You recite the alphabet backwards. When that doesn't work, you think about the time you helped Jason on a mission in the sewers and couldn't get the smell out of your suit for a week.

Yeah, that'll do it. You shudder.

"Can't believe you just broke in," he mumbles. "Raised in a fuckin' barn, swear to God."

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm truly, honestly sorry, Jaybee. From the bottom of my heart. Can I look now?"

"If you dare."

"Are you decent?" you ask.

"Too easy of a joke," he says. "Yeah, the jewels are covered."

You turn slowly. Jason's got red (ha) boxers on, so you turn all the way.

Huh. Well.

You've never really thought much about what Jason's got going on underneath his armor. Certainly, you've assumed that he's got a good physique and a lot of stamina, considering what he does. You've always assumed that. But Jason's Jason. Your best friend, Jason. Your best friend, Jason, who came back really tall, yeah, and with a deep voice and a super pretty face...

Well, anyway. He's Jason. That's all.

But now? Now you get to look in depth, and... whoa.

Jason's broad, stocky, heavily muscled with a soft layer of fat on top. His arms are huge, hands proportionally big. His pecs are full with pink nipples the same shade as his lips. That's a fact you're never forgetting. Your belly flutters.

Okay, what the fuck! No. This is peak creepy behavior, leering at your best friend like this, even if he does have shoulders you could sink your teeth into and thighs you'd happily get crushed between. No! Bad.

...You look some more. He's covered in scars. This is the first time you've seen his autopsy scar in person. It's white, noticeable but healed, like most of his scars. There's a dusting of dark hair from his chest to his belly button. It thickens as it dips beneath his—

Mm, nope. Not thinking about that again.

"Hello-o."

Your eyes dart back to his face.

"Are you listening to me?" he asks, forehead crinkled.

"What? Yes. Sorry. Yes." Your cheeks burn.

Something crosses Jason's face, too quick for you to read. But then his expression stones over. He glances at the dresser across from the bed.

"If you gimme a sec, I'll put a shirt on so y'won't have to look at all this," he says, gesturing roughly to his body.

You blink, lost in Jasonland. "Huh?"

"I know the scars are pretty gnarly. Lemme find a shirt."

Jason goes to the dresser and digs through the top drawer. His wide back is strung tight with tension, you can tell. You hurry to him, blocking the drawer with your arm. Jason looks at you, brows rising.

"Can I help you?" he asks.

"Um."

Words. You remember words, don't you?

"You..."

You haven't been physically close to Jason in a long time. He smells like soap and detergent and is all-encompassing. Your brain feels like slush. Don't stare at his pecs.

"I didn't—I'm not grossed out by your scars, Jason," you finally manage to say.

Jason raises an eyebrow. "Sure. You're just grossed out by everything else about me." He sighs wearily, like he's practiced this speech every night in the mirror. "Look, it's fine. I know I'm really—"

"No, it's not fine! I can't bear having you think I'm repulsed by your body, Jason. That's just not true," you say.

"Well, you were starin' pretty hard, so—"

"But it wasn't—I wasn't staring in disgust, I was—I..."

Jason crosses his arms. His pecs are pushed up as he does so. His stomach looks so soft. But you know he's strong. Way stronger than you. Strong enough to wield his strength against you, if you wanted him to. Strong enough to be gentle with you, too.

You wonder if he's still ticklish.

"You're doin' it again!" Jason says, and this time he really does look hurt. Fuck. Fuck! You're a shitty best friend.

"No!" You lock eyes with him. "No, no! I mean, yes, I was looking at you. But I wasn't looking in a bad, judgy way. I was, uh, taking in your physique. Because you have a... a very nice body. I've never seen you without clothes so I was looking at you. Sorry."

Yeah, you'll just go die in a hole after this.

Jason squints at you for a long moment. You start to shift in place. Sweat beads on your forehead. You lick your lips, hoping Jason can hear your honesty.

"Are you messin' with me?"

"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, why would I—"

"You're really telling me that you find this," Jason gestures to his body, "Good looking?"

This is worse than any physical torture. You'd prefer Batman beating you up on a roof to being here.

You rub your temple, cheeks aflame. "Oh my God. Yes, Jason, you're a good looking guy. Can we move on?"

"No, 'cause I think you're lyin', and I don't like it. You're always honest with me."

"I am being honest," you say, suddenly more annoyed than anything. Because what the fuck? "Are you kidding me? There's a whole forum dedicated to the Red Hood and how much people want you to step on them. And that's without seeing your face! I have eyes, Jason, of course I find you attractive."

And that should be the end of it. Jason's already slack-jawed like a dead fish. But no, you keep going.

"You make me nervous and I thought I had a lid on it because we knew each other as kids but it's becoming clear that I very much don't, and that probably has to do with the fact that you're the only guy I've been close to, and I never got over you. And now I'm gonna go drown myself in the Hudson. Good night."

You go to slip out the window. Maybe it'll shut on your head and knock you out. That would be a divine gift.

It doesn't, though. The universe isn't so kind. Instead, Jason catches your arm and keeps you rooted to your spot. His hand is cold. You wonder if the rest of him is warm.

"Wait, wait. Just hang on."

You groan. "Dude, I'm fucking mortified over the last five minutes. Please let me keep some of my dignity," you say without looking at him.

"Now when have I ever done that?" You can hear the smile in his voice.

And suddenly, the miserable reality of never being more than friends with Jason Todd comes crashing down. It's too late. You've always been too late.

You sag in his grip.

"We can just forget this ever happened," you say quietly. "Chalk it up to idiocy."

"Mm, yeah, we could. 'Cept I don't think you're an idiot. And I want you to hear what I have t'say first. Will ya look at me?"

Mopily, you look at him. His hand drops.

"I—"

"You've never slept naked," you say before he can get a word out. "That's new. Otherwise, I would've known, and then I would've used the door."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Can I speak?"

You cross your arms. "Yeah, okay."

"First of all, I don't think it's necessary for me to disclose that I sleep in the nude." You open your mouth to argue. "But I know it was a mistake. I'm not mad about that. Okay?"

You nod. "Okay."

"I won't lie and say I'm not surprised at your... reaction. I don't really... I've never... I'm not Dick or Bruce, y'know? I wasn't told my whole life what a handsome boy I am. And dying and returning didn't really help with that stuff either."

"I think you're handsome, Jason," you say quietly. "Honest."

He coughs and looks away, a tiny blush on his cheeks. "Yeah, uh, think you've made that pretty clear. For the record, I think you're really beautiful. Always thought so."

Your eyes widen. "Really?"

"Well, yeah. I mean... yeah."

"You're just saying that 'cause I saw your vein cane," you say, grinning.

"Don't call it that."

"How about—"

"No."

You're both quiet.

"How 'bout pork swor—"

"No!"

You smile, eyes squinty. Jason glares.

"Don't nickname my thing," he says.

You nod solemnly. "You're right. It's your thing. You should choose its name."

He shakes his head. "Sucha weirdo."

"Hey, I've never been with a guy. I don't know the rules of thing-naming."

Jason tilts his head. "Never?"

"Never."

"Why?"

You shrug. "Never found anyone I liked enough, I guess. I've pretty much had my heart set on you, Jason."

His face softens. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, uh, me too," he says. "You're it for me, honey. I just never... I mean, really, I never thought it would actually happen with you. Not then, not now."

"Huh. You really should've flashed me earlier. We could've sped things up exponentially."

"Yeah, why didn't I think of that," Jason says dryly.

"Dunno! We all know you're more than a pretty face."

His face reddens. You grin.

"Are you shy?" you ask, dancing on your toes.

"No. Shut up."

"You're shy! I make Jason Todd shy! Oh, this is wonderful. I should break into your apartment regularly."

"It's just new for me!" he says. "Lea' me alone."

You cozy up to him, confidence renewed by the mutual confession. You wrap your arms around his neck. Jason looks at you, hands slowly coming to rest on your waist. The rest of him is warm.

"Just teasing you, Jaybee," you say.

"Hmm." He slowly nudges your cheek with his nose. "Like y'always do?"

"Like I always do," you say sweetly. "But for the record, if we ever share a bed in the future, you're gonna have to keep the soldier in his tent."

Jason lets go of you, exasperated. "Oh, for—y'know what? Your visitation privileges are revoked. Get outta my apartment."

You put on the saddest face you can muster. "You're kicking me out? Into the cold?"

"It's eighty degrees."

You sigh loudly. "Okay, fine. Date tomorrow?"

"Seriously?" Jason asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Seriously! Why wouldn't I be serious?"

"You really wanna date me?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life."

Jason's relief is palpable and bittersweet. You'll spend the rest of your days letting him know just how spectacular he and his pectorals are.

"Okay," he says, shy again. You don't tease him this time.

"Great!" You close the distance between you and peck him on the cheek. His blinks in surprise.

"I'll give you a proper kiss on our date," you say, winking. "Bye, Jasey-Daisy."

"Bye, honey. Don't break into anyone else's apartment on your way home."

"Never," you say, climbing out the window. "You're the only one for me, Toddy!"

[sayoneee]

Emergency: Help Evacuate My Family From GAZA WAR

Dear Humanity,

I'm Haya from Gaza , from a family of 8 people: my parents, two sons, and four daughters (two of them suffer from allergies).

I've witnessed the evidence of the tragedy that has struck our lives in Gaza, where my family and I have survived amidst numerous previous wars. But today, we face the most dangerous and fierce battle in the current war. The urgent need intensifies for us, as we have nothing left and are unable to secure our basic needs such as food, water, and safe shelter.

Here is our story - On October 7th, our lives changed forever, my family and I evacuated from northern Gaza to southern Gaza, hoping to return soon, but it wasn't meant to be. Our home was surrounded, burned, and then completely destroyed, Our home, once a fortress of hope, now lay in ruins, a stark reminder of our shattered dreams.

The night before we left from the north to the south was terrifying. Shelling sounds were everywhere, making a loud noise that felt like it went through our souls. Every explosions shook the ground like earthquakes, sending shockwaves of fear through our trembling bodies. filling us with fear. The air smelled of destruction and blood, making it hard to breathe. When dawn came, we saw the devastation around us, realizing our home was now a symbol of loss and despair.

We ran into the streets and with each step we took into the unknown streets, we felt as if we were plunging deeper into the abyss of our shattered existence, leaving behind everything we own in our home: Clothes, important official documents, the car, and literally it's almost everything - the enormity of our loss weighed heavily upon us.

Our home it was where we found hope, safety, and made precious memories. Losing it felt like losing years of our lives, leaving us adrift amidst the wreckage of our shattered existence.

A brief video depicting the devastation that struck our home and our entire neighborhood in Gaza.

Desperate Plea: Escaping Gaza's Allergy Nightmare

I, Haya, suffer from severe allergy to penicillin-derived medications, and my sister, Amal, also suffers from severe allergies to medications from my family such as Paracetamol and Ibuprofen.

These allergies create a deep sense of fear and anxiety for us, as we live in a constant state of tension and fear of anything that may require a visit to the hospital. We fear being given inappropriate medications due to the unavailability of suitable treatments in Gaza because of war or lack of awareness and not informing the doctor of our allergies, which could lead to serious consequences threatening our lives.

MY Father Income

Our dreams are heading towards oblivion in the labyrinth of an uncertain future

My story, along with my siblings, represents a united team of four individuals, three of whom are skilled programmers and one graphic designer. We work as freelancers in the world of freelancing.

As for my younger sister, she is a student studying at the College of Architecture. She has always carried a big dream in her heart, a dream of being part of changing Gaza, of making it more beautiful and better. She looked forward to the day when she would receive her degree and start building this dream. But the beginning of the war changed everything. The destruction of infrastructure and universities cast shadows of despair over her dreams.

When I think of my brother in Belgium, I can't help but feel deep sadness. He has been suffering from unbearable anxiety and insomnia since the outbreak of the war. Sleep eludes him at night, and his physical and mental health collapses under the weight of these heavy burdens, negatively affecting his performance at work. Problems and challenges pile up in front of him without the slightest opportunity for rest.

We all feel psychological pressure and extreme anxiety. The war hasn't been limited to external attacks but has deeply infiltrated our daily lives. We search among the rubble for a little safety and the basic resources for survival. Every day comes with a new challenge that we must overcome.

As we sway amidst the rubble of shattered dreams, our souls wrestle and our hearts beat strongly challenging the ravages of war.

Our parents earnestly seek a way to rescue us from this hell, feeling the heavy responsibility for every moment we spend under the shadows of fear and destruction. They dream of a safe place where they can build for us a better future, filled with security and hope, for we deserve life in all its meanings of comfort and peace.

Perhaps this fundraising campaign represents a light in the midst of darkness, it is indeed the only hope we cling to firmly.

I appeal to the world as a whole to hear my cry and the mournful cry of my family in Gaza. We need the helping hand that reaches out to wipe our tears and build a bridge to safety.

Your donation is not just a donation; it's an opportunity to rebuild life and brighten a better tomorrow. Be part of our hopeful story, for we need your hand to start anew.

The purpose of the fundraising campaign

The goal of this fundraising campaign is to rescue my family - my parents, my siblings, and me - through the Rafah Crossing to Egypt, which currently requires $5000 per person. This campaign is our only chance to stay alive, and I humbly request your assistance at this critical time. I will provide you with a comprehensive breakdown of the expenses, committing to transparency and clarity.

All of our important links are here https://linktr.ee/hayanahed

Verified by :

⭐️ operation olive branch, number 26 on their spreadsheet. (On Master list)

⭐️ Project watermelon,line 249 on their spreadsheet. Or you could see it as number 212 here is the photo for more clear proof

Thank you for your kindness and support.

.جزاكم الله خيراً

yours sincerely;

Haya Alshawish.

[sayoneee]

Hi, I hope you're doing well. ❤️ I'm writing to you with a heavy heart and an urgent request for help. My family is in a very danger situation due to the ongoing war, and I've launched a GoFundMe campaign to save them. 😢 Could you please share my campaign post from my profile? Each share could be a lifeline for my family. 🙏 Feel free to share it in any other social media platform if you would like. Our campaign has been verified by operation olive branch, and is entry number 26 on their spreadsheet. From the bottom of my heart I want to thank you in advance for all of your support and kindness.

please share & donate

[sayoneee]

☆ GIRLS ON FILM

“lipstick cherry all over the lens as she's falling / and miles of sharp blue water coming in” (smau)

contains: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite! reader. alt universe - everyones happy, just dating shenannigans. woc friendly as always

kashaf’s note: IM ALIVE. (fatally obssesed with s1 of young justice however).

liked by selinabeauregard, lukecastellan, and 234 others

yn prom.

tagged lukecastellan, silenabeauregard, drewtanaka_, travistole, cbeckendorf, clar1sse, rodriguez_chris

view all comments.

percyjackson u guys like each other irl????

lukecastellan @/percyjackson gee thanks man. yn @/percyjackson no this was a pity invite lukecastellan @/yn i have a poster that says otherwise! yn @/lukecastellan DONT OUT ME LIKE THIS percyjackson @/yn @/lukecastellan STOP FLIRTING HERE.

travistole CROSSOVER EPISODE!

drewtanaka_ we all collectively threw up at the sight of the 2nd slide (where are my photo creds...)

cbeckendorf @/drewtanaka_ the smile slid off my face fr yn @/drewtanaka_ @/cbeckendorf im never tagging yall in anything again wtf

connorstole so where was mine + @/annabethhh + @/percyjackson + @/g_man ‘s invites to the afterparty

yn @/connorstole THERE WAS NO AFTER PARTY THESE MFS FORCIBLY CRASHED MY HOUSE

liked by selinabeauregard, clar1sse, and 215 others

lukecastellan she scares me sometimes.

tagged yn

view all comments.

yn BRO U DID NOT SAY THAT IN THE MOMENT

lukecastellan @/yn nvm babe ur right travistole @/lukecastellan i just sighed irl lukecastellan @/travistole sry that my girl loves me

percyjackson STOP BEING NASTY ON MAIN.

lukecastellan @/percyjackson sry that im in a loving committed relationship

liked by thaliiia, lukecastellan, and 305 others

yn girls (& boys) on film!

tagged lukecastellan, silenabeauregard, drewtanaka_, travistole, cbeckendorf, clar1sse, rodriguez_chris

view all comments.

percyjackson where tf r our invites @/connorstole @/annabethhh @/g_man

lukecastellan @/percyjackson big kids only percyjackson @/lukecastellan i hope yn leaves u lukecastellan @/percyjackson not happening 💀 travistole @/lukecastellan whys the 12 yr old eating u up ☠️☠️ yn @/travistole LMAOO WHYRE U REAL lukecastellan @/travistole @/yn wtf

silenabeauregard i took the last photo say thank you rn

clar1sse u guys fr made me lose my lunch

[sayoneee]

omg hi kashaf are u alive

HI. i am alive 😞😞 i was like ‘i’ll get back to writing and being active when i graduate high school’ but no. i’m being overworked by my college summer classes atm. and my brown parents have grounded me 😕😕

[sayoneee]

kendrick lamar made me realise that there is an even stronger level of hater that i have yet to tap into

[sayoneee]

hi i love your writing sm!! just occurred to me, what can i call u? hope ur having a fab day <3

HI SORRY FOR REPLYING OVER A MONTH LATER! THANK U SM FOR THE COMPLIMENT <3 i go by kashaf! or anything like 'bro' 'dude' etc.!

[sayoneee]

hey girlie wirlie purlie

HI I AM SO SORRY FOR REPLYING A MONTH LATER (shit got super hectic omgg) HOW ARE U BBG

[sayoneee]

THANKS FOR THE TAG 🙌🙌

im gonna go with #1, #2 and #3 are far too specific

my 2 truths and a lie:

i can speak 3 languages

i was on the news for attending the first showing of a movie when i was 10

i have traveled to 15 different countries

tags: @hachikluvr @uxavity @jab-we-drank-chai @apollos-calliope

Two Truths and a Lie: Tag Game

Thank you for the tag, @xisum! Of your answers:

They all seem so believable, I simply can't decide. I'm going to go with the medical school within the next year - simply because I think you're already enrolled 😏

Snail's Two Truths and a Lie:

I have been impaled by the stem of a wine glass, resulting in meat-glue and a trip to the ER to suture the wound back together again. The wound looks like a candy cane, and I think it's rather pretty.

I went to circus school and used my background as an acrobatic gymnast to excell in performing on ropes and silks suspended from the ceiling. My uniform was a unitard from my neck to my ankles coloured in navy blue, ruby red and jet black.

In my youth, I would go busking out the front of my local supermarket with my favourite violin. My repitoore was mainly concertos and minuettes, but I also would play Metallica, Muse, Three Days Grace and Eluveitie.

I dare you to take a guess at which one isn't true, reblog with your answer and play along with two truths and a lie of your own!

Tag list: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @cinnbar-bun @vespidphoenix @sexc-snail @gingernut1314 @lostfirefly @httpwintersoldier @tiredemomama @i-am-vita @indydonuts @discordantwritings

I would tag @since-im-already-here, but Smol-Sister-Snail already knows the answer 💀

[sayoneee]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you just can't get to sleep thanks to a terrible rainstorm terrorizing the ship. luckily, your tossing and turning inspired nami with an idea: just go sleep with the swordsman.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

don' ask about the aesthetic k? k 💙

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

With how the hail storm rattled against the hull of the ship, and how the vessel careened on the waves, you were at a loss as to how Nami was fast asleep already.

The crew had settled down for sleep hours ago, the laughter and teasing from dinner falling into a soft silence draping over each and every one of you—well, except you, that is.

Even after months at sea, the incessant rocking had you curling into yourself, headache blooming under the skin of your temples. Groaning, you rolled around on your sheets, burying your face in your pillow as you shoved the blanket off your shoulders and down your body. Chill air hit you instantly, a contrast to the sweat rising from your skin. All you wanted was sleep, but your ears rang with the sound of rainfall and the far off thunder rumbling through the sky.

You tossed and turned again and again, rest ever so far away and the sway of the Going Merry making kept your mind alert with all its tilts and jumps. Yet another grunt of frustration huffed from your lips, and Nami finally sprang up, glaring at you from across the cabin.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, her eyes heavy and her annoyance high.

Great. Now Nami was upset, which usually lasted a whole day if you were unlucky. You didn’t bother turning back to look at her, digging yourself deeper into your blanket. “Sorry…”

She sighed and rubbed at her cheek, gaze drifting over your exhausted form, taking in what she could in the dark. Settling back down, Nami said what she’d been thinking for the past two hours of listening to you loll around restlessly. “Just go sleep with Zoro.”

A beat passed, your eyes slowly opening as you tried to convince yourself you’d heard her wrong. You flipped around and gaped at the girl slinking into her sheets with a smirk you would catch through any dark room. “What? Why would I—Why would you—Nami!”

She chuckled darkly, her bright eyes finding yours. Nami propped her head up on her hand. “It wouldn’t be the first time, right?”

Trying and failing to make a comeback, you opened and closed your mouth like a gaping fish, settling on crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s none of your business.”

“Uh-huh,” she drawled. “But I’ve got dawn watch and am in desperate need of sleep.” All you did was stare at her, your glare fading. Nami rolled onto her back, offering into the silence, “It’s not like he’ll turn you away.”

You tried so very hard to let her logic roll off your shoulders, but it was cold (Zoro was warm) and you were tired (Zoro was a good napping buddy). As appealing as the idea was, you didn’t want to bother him. Zoro was probably just getting back from his night watch, Sanji heading up to the deck in his wake. Zoro wouldn’t turn you away, but he might grumble at you, and sometimes that was worse.

“Stop overthinking,” Nami’s voice whispered through a hiss. “He likes you.”

She was just trying to give you heart palpitations saying stuff like that. “Does not.”

“Mhmm. Get some sleep… with Zoro.”

You threw your pillow across the room, missing her bed by a longshot. You could throw pillows and shout whispered words at her all you wanted—it didn’t change that she had a point.

It wouldn’t be the first time you crawled into Zoro’s hammock late at night, seeking shelter from sleeplessness that seemed to miraculously melt in his embrace. Nami might’ve been right; Zoro might like you, at least more than he liked anybody else. It was confusing most days, but your mind was so mushy with fatigue you didn’t bother running over the finer details of your affections for the swordsman.

You puffed out a huff, eliciting a growl from the dark, “Go. Or neither of us will sleep.”

“Fine.” You threw off your blanket and marched out of the cabin before you could lose your nerve, trudging through the nearly pitch black hall of the Merry. 

You yelped as you tripped over a discarded broom, cursing into the night as you kicked it aside and kept on toward the boy’s cabin. As soon as you laid eyes on the closed door, your footsteps faltered, heart stuttering. 

The ship leaned on the waves and sent you teetering into the wall, and the decision was suddenly easy. You inched the door open gently, wincing at the momentary creak, and slipped inside. 

The boys’ cabin always had a… unique scent to it. Somewhere between burning socks and musk is how Nami described it. Honestly (now, you would never tell her this), you just thought it smelled like Zoro. Though Zoro might’ve been slightly less odorous on good days, you mused.

The swordsman of your infatuation lay in a swaying hammock tied up between two support beams holding up the ceiling. A flash of lightning illuminated his peaceful face for a brief moment, and the room was back to black. 

Collecting your wits, you approached him slowly, careful not to step on any of the clutters the boys left lying about. Lip pinched between your teeth, you stepped around a crate of slingshot ammo Usopp had crafted, catching your foot on the slingshot itself and jumping out of the way. 

You swept the room fretfully, yet no one stirred, the usual snores rising and falling. A sigh puffed form your chest as you turned back to Zoro’s hammock, only to lock eyes with the stoic swordsman as he gazed blearily up at you.

Lurching back, you calmed your racing heart and huffed at him. “You scared me.”

Zoro leaned up on his elbows, confused. “You scared me.” His gaze flickered all over your face. “What’re you doing?”

You fisted your hands, feeling like a deer at headlights, and blurted, “Nami kicked me out.”

Zoro’s brows drew instantly. “What?” He rose halfway when you hand found his chest, gently pushing him back down.

“I mean,” you amended. “I couldn’t sleep, and she got tired of me rolling around…” Bashful in how you averted your eyes, swaying on your feet, “I… sleep better with you. Y’know?”

Not even a second later he tugged on your arm to draw you closer, shuffling over to offer you some room. You smiled softly, falling into the space beside him, molding right into his side. “Yeah, I know.”

Your face warmed, your heart swelled, and you rested your head on the rigid outline of his shoulder, adjusting to find a comfortable place. Zoro’s arm slid under you and curled you further into his side, a sigh pulling from his chest, his muscles literally relaxing under each of your touches. 

There wasn’t a name for what you and Zoro were, not yet anyway, and somehow you were fine with that. He was there, and you were there, and that felt like enough. For now, you let your eyes finally give way to exhaustion, the pelting of the rain growing fainter and fainter. 

Nami was a tease, but she made some good points a lot of the time. You’d have to thank her in the morning, after you finally got to sleep in the arms of your swordsman.

[sayoneee]

for when bruce is being a bitch by jason todd © 2020

it’s jason playing the guitar and screaming incoherently with muffled crying and fighting in the background

it reaches Gotham’s Top 10 charts in two days 

[sayoneee]

MY BOARDS WERE ACC SO MID BUT IM EXPECTING ABOVE 85 AT LEAST MAYBE ABOVE 87 IF THEYRE LENIENT

BUT HOW ARE U HOW WERE UR PRESENTATIONSS

OKAYYY ABOVE 85-87 ISNT BAD

PRESENTATIONS WERE LIKE MID BUT I HAD 3 EXAMS THAT IDK HOW I DID ON EITHER

HOW HAVE U BEEN

[sayoneee]

OMFG STOP UR GONNA MAKE ME CRY WTF

(might take u up on those sneak peeks 👀👀)

☆ I WANNA BE YOUR MAN

“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” (1.7k)

contains: loser older brother luke castellan x fem! reader. mortal au. pt 2 of parent trap but can be read standalone ish. guest appearances! rock / metal music references.

kashaf’s note: i think i can call myself a melomaniac now

LUKE CASTELLAN HAS always occupied that in-between space, the no-man’s-land between something and nothing — his indecipherable gaze as his cold, black, and blued knuckles grazed your cheek when he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear swims around your mind endlessly. despite how each thought, each expression, each breath is as familiar to you as your own, you have never quite known where you stand with him, regardless of how quickly he seemed to inhabit a piece of your soul.

the familiar weight of the mixtape that luke made you feels unusually burdensome in your hands, mirroring the heft of the songs on it that you have painstakingly committed to memory, each sleepless night’s offerings of tossing and turning becoming a reoccurring ritual. 

you had popped the tape in your walkman immediately after luke had handed it to you, incognizant of the way his eyes softened as you concentrated on the music, trying to identify the first song. 

“this is that band you like — l.a. guns, right?”

“you’re a regular sherlock,” luke had said, smiling and sarcastic, twisting his silver rings.

“shut up, no i know this song,” you say, tilting your head and snapping your fingers. “its — um — i wanna be yours? nono, don’t make that face at me, asshole, hold on… i wanna be your man?”

hues of pink crept up his cheeks, and you basked in the warmth of his answering crooked grin, the feeling wrapping around you like the caress of a summer night. 

you uselessly stirred the spoon in your now stone-cold cup of chai, leaning across the kitchen table with your head propped up in your other hand. the phone taunts you from its corner on the counter, sitting just by the clear jar of blue cookies, its black hue a beacon among the sea of greens (the cabinets, the tiles — you liked to tell sally that she should try her hand at interior design one of these days) — as of late, the jacksons’ kitchen has become somewhat of a refuge for you. 

you set a steaming china cup down in front of him, listening to the sounds of percy, annabeth, and grover in the living room, pulling out the chair in front of him with a slight creak on the slightly worn wooden floors, and watching him as he taps his fingers along to bob marley’s soft crooning, “little darlin’, stir it up”, lost in his own world.  

“luke,” you say, breaking him out of his revelry.

luke sits up straight, meeting your amused gaze, “yeah?” he asks, reaching for his chai, and mumbling a quiet thanks as he sips it.

“you look kinda stupid when you think,” you say, watching him blink before taking the bait, and hiding your smile of satisfaction behind your cup.

“y’know, this is why you have a black hole for a heart,” he says, grinning crookedly, filling you with an indescribable longing to reach out and trace his grin. 

“what?” you laugh, “what does that even mean?”

“just that you’re mean,” luke says, and the afternoon sun chooses that specific moment to encompass him in its glow, like a kiss from apollo. “and that you’re emo.”

“you literally say this every time, oh my god, i’m not mean or emo.”

“because i’m literally right?”

“you like him,” annabeth says, sympathetically, standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest, her braids resting across her shoulders, glancing from your untouched cup to your face, an expression of pity gracing her features. her presence caught you so off guard that you don’t even question where percy ran off to, who was usually attached to annabeth like a conjoined twin. 

“i know,” you say, shivering slightly, the revelation feeling strangely empty, although you suppose the same part of your soul that recognized him had always known, a small inkling reappearing with every argument, and every nudge. 

“he likes you,” annabeth adds matter-of-factly, interrupting your stream of consciousness. 

“i know,” you repeat, picking at the lint on your sweater, and while this revelation is supposed to be shocking, it is also hollow, as you suppose your soul also knew this with every hushed conversation in the dead of night, and the slips of silence that only spoke volumes around him.

“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” she turned and stalked back toward the living room.

you sat still for a minute or so, before sighing and putting luke’s mixtape (even in your misery, he is somehow always there) in your walkman, putting your headphones on as axl rose trilled, ‘i said, baby you been lookin' real good’ in his voice that took a while to get used to — something luke gave you a heads up on.

you sighed, conceding to annabeth’s attempts to rewrite whatever fate had pushed the two of you apart, from the hours-long phone calls that dwindled into short, clipped conversations, you can’t necessarily blame annabeth for trying to fashion a phoenix from the ashes of your friendship. 

you stood up, grabbed your jacket off the back of the chair you were sitting upon, and walked into the living room, pausing for a few minutes to watch the scooby doo episode on the screen along with percy, grover, and annabeth, who were currently sprawled across the softly carpeted floor, arguing over monopoly.

“you’re literally cheating,” percy was saying.

“i’m the banker, i’m supposed to be innocent,” annabeth argued back.

“percy, i saw you steal a couple dollars behind annabeth’s back,” grover added, rolling the dice.

“guys,” you said, interrupting their three-way argument, “put on your jackets and shoes, we’re going to the fair in five minutes.”

you ignored the way the troublesome trio exchanged glances, walking through the hallway covered in framed photos of percy and sally, going to wait by the door for them.

“so,” percy says, all-too-innocently, “why the sudden change of plans?” once the four of you are a couple of blocks away from his apartment.

“no reason, just wanted to see what was so hot about the fair,” you say, digging your hands in the pockets of your jacket. once more, you ignore the glances the trio exchange. 

“so it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain curly-haired individual that we’re currently seeing less and less of?”

you keep walking, trying to feign ignorance, although the question was so pointed even you were concerned with percy’s audacity, “what’re you talking about?”

“oh, nothing,” percy smiles. “just the way —”

“— the two of you —”

“— were inseparable —”

“— for a disgustingly long time —”

“— and now you’re not —”

“— but we’re going to the fair because —”

“— his band is playing —”

“— and you’re going to try and fix —”

“— your troubles in paradise.”

you blinked slowly, as the three of them did jazz hands, matching shit-eating grins on all of their faces, “how long did it take for you guys to rehearse that?”

“a week, give or take,” grover says, and annabeth shoots him a glare.

“not the point, the point is, we support you.”

“gee, thanks, all i really needed was the support of three twelve-year-olds.”

“three twelve-year-olds that know you’re stupidly in love with luke castellan,” percy points out.

“okay, y’know what…” you trail off, frowning.

annabeth nudged percy, “not the point here, again.”

“fine, fine, fine,” you huff, as the four of you approach the brightly illuminated fair, looking for the ticket-selling booth, “i’ll buy you guys tickets so you can go hang out on the rides and i’ll go to the concert.”

the three of them nodded happily, making a beeline for the cotton candy stand a few feet away. you shook your head before pushing through the bustling crowd to look for the concert stage. when you finally do find it, after three excuse me’s and four sorry’s, the concert is already in full swing, with what looks like a mini moshpit already forming somewhere near the center.

once you’ve pushed your way to the absolute front, the darkening night sky serving as a backdrop, the harsh lights illuminate all five individuals on the stage, with a gorgeous girl with shaggily-cut hair and a raspy voice singing as lead (thalia? you think you remember luke telling you on the phone late at night once). however, your gaze almost immediately fixed on luke, who was playing a riff on his electric guitar, looking as hot as ever, his crooked grin on full display.

the band is covering l.a. guns’ ‘i wanna be your man’ at the moment, and you’re suddenly very grateful to annabeth for her unsubtle nudges, because you would’ve missed out on this sight of luke castellan, the view of his muscled arms bulging out of his band tee is permanently seared into your memory.

you’re almost sad when the show is over though, finally realizing why luke liked concerts so much, from the crowd surfing to the drumstick tricks during solos (beckendorf, you think the drummer’s name was — luke had mentioned him before) to the lead’s insane vocals, to the girl with long curly hair that stood next to you for most of the concert (probably the band’s most enthusiastic fan), you savored every minute of it. however, you’re glad for the chance to corner luke afterwards, climbing onto the stage as the crowd begins to disperse in waves, and realizing the curly-haired girl was already among the band members packing up their instruments, helping the curly-haired bassist pack his things. 

luke barely looks up at your sudden arrival. “what’re you doing here?” he asks, packing away his guitar.

“i’m here to see you,” you say, trying to drive the hint home.

“i told you that you didn’t have to come see the band if you were busy,” luke says, uncomprehendingly, making eye-contact with you. 

“i like you,” you say insistently.

“c’mon, let’s not kid ourselves right now, you said we’re friends so you don’t have to try to make me feel better,” luke says, shrugging and looking away from your face, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i listen to your dumb mixtape every night, luke castellan. does a person who’s not into you do that?”

there is something so raw about the way he looks right now, with his expression stilling as his cheeks are colored in swathes of red. 

smiling at his dumbstruck expression, you surged forward to kiss him, ignoring all the wolf whistles and “get some, castellan” enveloping the two of you, tangling your fingers into his hair, his hands coming to rest upon your hips.

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[sayoneee]

GF POSTED !!!

he pulled a hand to his hair, a habit born from stress and attempts to impress girls.

this is actually so gojo

at the very least, you knew the director, shoko ieri, well enough to trust that this rookie would have skill in acting, despite how limited it may be. 

SHOKO MENTION

a boy you had once met drawing chalk on the streets of downtown san francisco now chatting up one of the most talented actors in the industry. you were going to scream, or hurl, or kick a trash can. you didn’t know. funnily enough, that very man was probably lounging on his vintage sofa, shades on, with that oh-so-insufferable smile. 

such a vivid paragraph omfg i love

[part one] midnight blues

it had been a few weeks since your childhood best friend had moved to hollywood hills to pursue his dreams for the big screen and you could already feel tensions rise against the unusually chilly air. this was your first argument in years, and it was over something as little, as insignificant as this? - (1.7k)

summary: gojo x nepo! reader. acting au. childhood best friends to rivals to lovers.

a/n: i originally started this as a oneshot, but oh well !

“stop it.”

“what?”

"just stop. i know you're not any more fine than I am. so why the hell are you pretending?"

"pretending about what?" you frowned at him, furrowing your eyebrows. 

"nevermind," he sighed, taking a whiff of his cigarette. you watched as the smoke curled lazily into the air, the soft glow of the ember casting shadows upon his pale face. you felt a frown tug at the corners of your lips, but couldn’t find the words to respond. the silence between you hung heavy, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the tree breeze. 

you continued to walk in silence, and you found yourself occasionally turning your head to glance at him wrestling with inner turmoil. eventually, you reached a stop near your house. he quietly opened the gate for you, and you could feel his eyes on your back as you typed in the code.

"i'm not," you tell him, ready to enter in the last code. 

"what?" he asks, as if he didn’t know already. 

"pretending. i can't do it."

"what are you talking about?" he leans against the gate, crossing his arms. 

you turn around, clenching your fists, and reply with a scowl, "you thought i was acting like i was fine? you thought i seemed okay? you clearly haven't been looking hard enough."

"yeah well, that was never my fucking job."

"then why did you say it?"

"isn't that the million-dollar question?” he scoffs, looking away. abruptly, he threw his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. he pulled a hand to his hair, a habit born from stress and attempts to impress girls. with another sigh and shake of his head, he picked it up and walked away, closing the gate. as you watched his figure grow smaller, you couldn't help but wonder where it had gone wrong. 

with a sigh of your own, you entered your prison, once home. large hallways, filled with portraits of disapproving ancestors and paintings by artists you hadn't heard of. handing your coat to a maid, you walked into your room and felt your legs give out, hitting the hardwood floor. putting your hands to your face, you took quick breaths, attempting to prevent the tears you knew would come anyway.  

a little short of thirty minutes later, you got up at last. in a near methodical fashion, you went about your routine, void of any particular expression. applying products of luxury against aging, taking multiple pills, and changing into a particular satin set. the epitome of prosperity taken advantage of by an undeserving candidate. 

night fell at last, the darkness enveloping you like a blanket. as protected as you were in a palace made of the finest golds, stocks, and titles, he felt as if he were on top of a stack of cards. he eyed the week-old bills, threatening him with eviction, but his bank balance remained horrifically short. he even considered living in his car were it not for the lack of space. he had made poor financial decisions, that was true. but if his calculations were right, his precious stocks would be going up any time soon, hopefully. 

so he was screwed. so what? wasn’t as if he was born with a golden spoon in his mouth. the only reason he even came to this city of faux angels was because of you, the one girl who didn’t even give notice of his affections. 

speeding up in his gorgeous harley davidson, on an impulse he drove to one place where he could let go of his thoughts. seemed like the only thing that stuck around these days were Cher, who had been with him since that impulse purchase of 2021, and his cigarettes.

five hours later, with little demons poking at his skull, all he could feel was the bitter taste of regret and cheap perfume against his neck. this was supposed to help. yet, he decided, getting off the cheap thrift store mattress, he couldn’t escape you. even the blonde didn’t help. and he loved blondes. that woman had him fucked. that was it. that was the end of him. getting into his clothes, setting aside some coffee and a note for the woman whose name he hadn’t even known, he left the flat. 

it was six a.m., with the bright rays only amplifying the raging hangover he received from a night of one too many budweisers. the ride back to his small apartment was only one of shame, as he carefully walked down the narrow hallway so as not to wake any of his neighbors. at last, he reached his bed. setting aside his leather jacket, he finally let himself surrender to sleep. 

one week. that’s how long you had gone on without any form of communication. a lot could’ve happened in one week. he could’ve gotten engaged or even married for all you knew. but you knew you were also at blame. just how many times have you opened up your dms, staring at that little “read” icon? how many times have you nearly clicked that call button, only to stop yourself out of pure stubbornness?

at the very least, you knew he wouldn’t attempt to reach out. you couldn’t force a person into communication, and you had found yourself preoccupied with other tasks anyway. photoshoots, interviews, and even the initial filming of the pilot for your new series, ‘how i found you.’ you knew he was just as busy with auditions and whatnot. it was fine. it was completely fine

….so turns out, your initial status of ‘fine’ was not as true as you thought it was. it was as if life always came back to bite you in the ass. conveniently enough, the male lead of the new series had found himself in a car crash. with a scoff you turned off the tv, ignoring the many buzzes coming from your phone, either in anger or panic. to make matters worse, you had been accused of being the cause of his accident. so not only were you potentially going to be out of a job, but now you were being hunted by an angry mob of brainless twitter idiots. how lovely.  

one photoshoot and a long scented candle-filled bath later, you decided perhaps you were being a bit dramatic. the casting director had just called you to inform you of a tall rookie who was bound to have chemistry with your character, ‘nicole,’ a shy know-it-all with a penchant for mischief. a rookie? lord save us all, you thought. at the very least, you knew the director, shoko ieri, well enough to trust that this rookie would have skill in acting, despite how limited it may be. 

unwillingly, you opened your phone again. in the midst of mindlessly tapping away through the instagram stories of the many celebrities of beverly hills, your eyes widened in shock upon viewing the story of your one and only idol, toji fushiguro, a renowned actor, former teen heartthrob of the early 2000s posing happily next to satoru fucking gojo. what the fuck.

a boy you had once met drawing chalk on the streets of downtown san francisco now chatting up one of the most talented actors in the industry. you were going to scream, or hurl, or kick a trash can. you didn’t know. funnily enough, that very man was probably lounging on his vintage sofa, shades on, with that oh-so-insufferable smile. 

despite all assumptions that have been made about him, satoru was very much not relaxed at all. he wasn’t particularly panicked either, that was one emotion he was far too above to deal with. but as he frantically calmly looked through the scripts, he realized that perhaps he felt slightly nervous. it was only natural after all. his first tv show. not only that, the cast list, which he had very deliberately looked over, was filled with prominent stars. apart from the one name he had avoided, he found himself relentlessly stalking the instagrams and wikipedias of the celebrities. just some mild research, he told himself. to think he would be the one with a wikipedia worth of stalking very soon if he played his cards right. 

regardless, he knew this was it for him. this role would be the start of a lifetime among stars. no. he would become the north star, shining brightest in the sky. how could he not? he was blessed. this was a fact. initially told by his grandfather, he carried this ideology with him through times of good and bad. it was how he found himself at a party with the likes of toji fushiguro and ryomen sukuna. highly acclaimed actor and equally if not higher producer. these two men would be the key to his start but satoru was well aware that it was just as likely for them to be the key to his end. 

a few days before receiving his key, satoru was annoyed. just as he had recovered from his hangover, his former best friend and current (as in 1 minute ago) enemy, suguru geto had quite rudely barged into his apartment, forced him to clean it up, and dragged (kidnapped) him off to god knows where. obviously, satoru was dressed like the fashion god he is, but seeing how he had no idea where they were even going, he wouldn’t be shocked if that asshole took him to some renaissance fair for all he knew. 

despite his whines and complaints, which he did not do, which is a false accusation, suguru did not take him to a renaissance fair. with all of his connections in his job as a pr agent, satoru’s best friend was finally repaying the favor he owed him for all those years of covering for him, and had taken him to a party filled with the names of the stars he had been walking on just a few hours earlier. 

what a drag. walking into the party, he could feel eyes drift to him, sizing him up no doubt if not for a few seconds. he didn't mind the stares, if anything he thrived off them. what use was an actor too afraid of his own shadow right? there were few that lingered too long, but he paid them no attention. he had a far larger target, something he had only learned of in a hurried conversation in the car, and he never missed the mark.