#// AFTER NEARLY 2 DECADES THE GOOD BOI IS BACK

[demonsfate]

i will say it's refreshing to see jin again. like actually see jin again. it's been like what. 18 years? holy moly.

[funemployed-fangirl]

Bridgerton proposals rated by level of chaos

Anthony - While courting her sister, Anthony panics when Kate is stung by a bee, proceeds to attempt to suck out the poison from her clavicle, and is caught by their mothers and Lady Featherington. Lady F says they'll have to marry and Anthony announces they'll be married next week. No proposal, Kate is never consulted. Anthony then ravishes her in the gazebo. 10/10. Complete Chaos.

Benedict - After repeatedly propositioning Sophie to be his live-in mistress, Benedict finds out she has been arrested for theft, shows up at the jail, punches the warden, and demands to know why his fiancé is being held prisoner. No proposal. Lady B almost punches Sophie's evil stepmother. 12/10. Utter Chaos.

Colin - Like a day after realizing that he finds Penelope incredibly attractive, Colin chases her through London, discovers she's Lady Whistledown, throws her in his carriage, lectures her, ravishes her, then they arrive back at her house and he hops out of the carriage and says, "well are you going to marry me or not?" Technically a proposal. 7/10. Chaos compounded by Lady F somehow thinking he's proposing to Pen's little sister.

Daphne - Daphne disrupts a duel for her honor, punches Simon in the eye, and insists he marry her because their garden makeout session was seen. Simon say he cannot have children, omitting that it's a personal choice and not a medical condition, and Daphne says good to know not a problem we're doing this. No real proposal. No one's happy with the outcome. Pistols and bickering big brothers in attendance for added chaos. 8/10

Eloise - Phillip proposes in a letter before they ever meet, failing to mention he has two children. Eloise packs a bag and leaves for his house without telling anyone. Phillip is shocked to discover her on his doorstep. The brothers are forced to ride after to her to defend her honor. Eloise doesn't understand why everyone's making such a fuss. Colin grumbles he's meant to be on his honeymoon. Beautiful Eloise-brand chaos abounds. 7/10

Francesca - Michael pines for a decade. He proposes. Franny says no. They have sex. He proposes. She says maybe. They have more sex. He nearly dies of malaria. Eventually they get married. By any other family's standards, it would be legendary chaos, but we're talking about the Bridgertons. 5/10

Gregory - HOO BOY. Gregory proposes/propositions Lucy despite her being engaged to someone else. She agrees but then is threatened by her treasonous uncle and goes through with the original marriage. Gregory interrupts the wedding. Lucy turns him down in front of the whole Ton. At the reception Gregory kidnaps her, then gets into a shootout with her uncle. Her now-husband agrees to annul the marriage. Absolute freaking chaos. No notes. 27/10

Hyacinth - Despite midnight rendezvous, breaking and entering, and a treasure hunt, Hyancinth's proposal is shockingly normal. Gareth formally asks Anthony's permission, then gets down on one knee and proposes properly. 2/10. Mildly disappointing, considering H's chaotic personality.

[nhlclover]

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 | 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

summary: you finally get to watch will live out his childhood dream, but become a source of comfort when the game doesn't end the way he'd hoped.

warnings: childhood friends to lovers, tooth rotting fluff, use of flashback scenes (which are italicized), appearances from wills family + macklin (very briefly), sad will after the sharks lose

word count: 2.20k

notes: i had so much fun writing this oh my gosh. sucks that the sharks lost but will had a good game (and so did macklin but this isn't about him right now)

The roar of the crowd felt deafening in your ears as you watched Will and Macklin skate out onto the ice, the bright lights of the SAP Center shining down on them like a spotlight. You clutched the teal jersey tighter around you, the number 2 stitched onto the back. Your heart swelled with pride as you watched Will glide effortlessly across the rink, his movements a graceful blend of power and precision.

“I can’t believe it’s really happening.” his mom said, voice trembling with emotion. You glanced over at Colleen who was clutching her chest with a smile that looked like it could light up the entire arena.

Next to her, Grace, Will’s sister, wiped a tear from her cheek as she reached for the both of you, pulling you into a hug as you shared this moment together. Even Will’s dad Bill, who was always so composed, had a telltale glimmer in his eyes, his lips twitching into a smile of unmistakable pride. You’d watched him grow from a gangly kid into a young man now living his dream. And now here he was, skating in his first NHL game.

It was a warm summer afternoon nearly a decade earlier when you first met Will …

You sat in a heap on the grass, chest heaving as you attempted to catch your breath. A fresh scrape ran across your knee, a testament to your failed attempt at learning to rollerblade. The purple and green skates on your feet had been a birthday gift, and in your stubborn independence, you were determined to teach yourself how to skate. But the balancing part was proving much harder than you’d imagined, leaving you bruised and scraped after several falls.

As you sat there, huffing and pulling out tufts of grass in frustration, you heard a voice. “You okay?”

You turned to find a boy standing there, about your age, with shaggy blond hair falling into his eyes. He held an oversized hockey stick in one hand, donning black, sleek rollerblades on his feet. Will, as you'd soon learn, had just moved into the house next door. He smiled with a confidence that seemed far too big for his small frame.

“Yeah,” you muttered, wiping at your tear-streaked face, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. “I just…fell.”

Will nodded, studying your skates before dropping his hockey stick on the ground. “Want me to show you how to stop falling?” he asked.

You tilted your head. “You could do that?”

“Yeah! I’m a pretty good skater,” he said with a proud grin.

Will helped you to your feet, keeping your hand in his as he eased you back onto the pavement. You spent the rest of the afternoon with Will teaching you how to find your balance. He patiently caught you every time you wobbled, never laughing when you stumbled. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you could glide down the sidewalk without feeling like you’d crash into the pavement.

“Thanks,” you said shyly, tugging your skates off for the day.

“You’re not bad," he grinned, leaning against his hockey stick like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You just need a little practice."

“Will! Dinner’s ready!” a voice called from the nearby driveway. His mom, Colleen, waved him over. He glanced back at you, still seated on the sidewalk, and smiled. “See you tomorrow?”

You nodded. “Definitely.”

From that day forward, it was always “you and Will”. He became your constant companion. Through scraped knees, missed goals, and late-night talks, you grew together.

It was during your sophomore year of high school when things began to change. You noticed the way Will would look at you a little longer when you were talking, his eyes lingering on your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. You’d find yourself holding your breath when he’d sling an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into one of his endless jokes, but the warmth of his touch would linger long after he let go.

One late night after a particularly tough game, Will dropped by your house, his hair still damp. You were sprawled out on your bed, textbooks and homework scattered around you when he knocked on your bedroom window. He always did that, never bothering with the front door.

“Need a break?” he asked, pushing up the window and climbing in like he'd done a thousand times before.

“Definitely,” you laughed, shoving your books aside, letting him sit on the bed beside you. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, but there was a nervous energy about him you hadn’t seen before. He ran a hand through his hair, hesitating. “I was just thinking about something.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “About what?”

“Thinking about you,” he said plainly, your heart stuttering. “And about how I always feel better when I’m around you.”

You felt your stomach twisting into knots. “What are you trying to say, Will?”

His eyes searched yours for any clue that he should either stop or keep going with his confession. “I guess… I’m trying to say that I like you. A lot.” he laughed, shaking his head as if trying to brush away his own nervousness. “Like, more than a friend.”

Your breath caught, the world narrowing down to just you and him at that moment. You’d thought about this, dreamed about it even, but hearing him say it made it feel more real than you ever imagined. “I…I like you too, Will,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself.

The smile that spread across his face was the most genuine, heart-stopping thing you’d ever seen. “Really?” he asked, disbelief colouring his tone.

“Yeah,” you said, laughing softly. “Really.”

Without thinking, he leaned closer to you, his hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You could feel his breath against your skin, his eyes flicking to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice trembling.

You nodded, and the next moment, his lips were on yours, soft and hesitant at first but quickly growing more confident as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. It was everything you’d imagined – and more.

When he pulled back, his face remained close, breath mingling with yours in the quiet space of your room. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he confessed, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek.

“Me too,” you whispered, your heart still racing.

After that, you were no longer just best friends. You were something more, something that had been quietly building for years, just waiting for the right moment to finally come to life. Now as you stood in the packed arena years later, watching him take to the ice, you felt the past and present intertwine.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, a few slipping down your cheeks despite yourself. Will stopped along the glass in the corner, looking up into the section where you sat. For a split second, your eyes met, and even from a distance, you could see the brightness and unmistakable joy in his gaze. He gave you guys a small wave before looking back to the ice, taking a playful hit from his teammate.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you whispered, squeezing Grace’s hand.

The game itself was a blur of excitement and nerves. Every time Will touched the puck, your breath caught. You watched him fight for possession, skate with the kind of speed and agility that only came from years of practice.

The first two periods were played well by the Sharks, with them taking a 4-1 lead, but the game soon slipped closer together towards the end of the third. When the Blues tied it with 45 seconds remaining, your heart tensed, the end of regulation buzzer echoing in a silent arena. Will didn’t see the ice in overtime when the Blues ended the game within the first 40 seconds of extra time. A collective groan sounded through out the arena, fans quickly clearing out.

Your heart sank, knowing how much this moment meant to Will. You watched as the team walked down the hall to the locker room, heads hung in disappointment. You spotted Will, Macklin patting him on the back, a small gesture of solidarity, but you could see how much it stung for both of them. They had given their all, but sometimes that wasn’t enough.

Fans continued to flow out of the stands, the usual post-game chatter was quieter, a stark contrast to the earlier excitement. A staff member instructed you to stay in the stands while Will changed and did media. You stood with his family, exchanging hugs, and offering words of comfort, but your eyes kept flicking back to the tunnel, waiting for him. 

Minutes felt like hours, until finally you spotted Will climbing the steps into the stands, changed back into his game-day suit, his damp hair falling in curls over his forehead. His face was a mixture of exhaustion and frustration, but the moment he spotted his family, a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Will made his way toward you all, the arena now almost empty except for a few lingering staff members. Colleen was the first to meet him, wrapping her arms around him tightly, and he buried his face into her shoulder for a moment, letting out a deep breath. Bill clapped him on the back, offering a few quiet words of encouragement. Grace was next, standing on her tiptoes to hug her brother, whispering something in his ear that made him smile faintly despite everything.

And then, his eyes found yours.

For a second, you weren’t sure if you should say anything, if you should be the one to comfort him after a loss like this. But when he stepped closer, his body radiating exhaustion and vulnerability, you knew he needed you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, his chin resting on top of your head as you hugged him back, tighter than you ever had before.

“You played amazing,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

He didn’t say anything at first, just held you closer, as if drawing strength from your presence. His heartbeat was steady against your ear, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the disappointment lingering in the air.

“That fucking sucked,” he finally muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “I wanted to win so badly.”

“I know,” you replied softly, rubbing his back in slow, comforting circles. “But you’ll get another chance. Tonight wasn’t the end.”

You felt Will shake his head. “I could’ve done more, I should’ve gotten on the sheet.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your hand resting gently on his chest. His eyes were a mix of frustration and exhaustion, still tinged with the adrenaline from the game. “Will, it’s not all on you. It’s a team game — you know that. You can’t carry it all on your shoulders.”

He exhaled sharply, his hands still holding you close as if he was afraid to let go. “Yeah, but… I wanted to, you know? I wanted to prove something.” His voice faltered, and the vulnerability in his expression tugged at your heart. You could see how much this moment meant to him—not just the game, but his debut, this night he'd dreamed of since he was a kid. And even though the team had lost, all you could see was how proud you were of him.

“You did,” you said, your voice steady and sure. You brushed back a lock of blonde hair that fell over his eyes. “You proved that you belong here. And not just to everyone else, but to yourself. This is just the beginning, Will.”

He stared at you for a long moment, the weight of your words settling in. You could see the way his tense shoulders started to relax, his grip on you loosening ever so slightly as if he was finally allowing himself to believe it too. A small smile, soft and tired, tugged at his lips. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek.

You smiled back, leaning into his touch. “Good thing you don’t have to find out.”

Will let out a small chuckle, the sound lightening the weight between you. “I can’t believe you came all the way from Boston for this.”

“Of course I did, Will. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” you smiled. 

“I love you,” he breathed out, and before you could say anything else, he kissed you. It was warm and soft and tasted faintly of the Gatorade he’d probably chugged all game, and it was everything you needed to feel how much this moment meant to him.

When you finally pulled away, Will kept you close to him, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured, the words barely a whisper. “For always believing in me.”

“Always,” you promised.

[strawburry01]

Life in Technicolor

Ford Pines x Fem! Reader

Summary: After the two of you were stuck on opposite sides of the space time continuum for 30 years- how do you go back to normal?

A bunch of little blurbs because people ate that up last time and it's fun-er to write rn :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 2.5

Part 3

Part 4

Meeting Mabel and Dipper was truly one of the best things that you'd ever experienced. You loved helping Mabel with her endless crafts and hearing all her boy problems (which was a shocking amount and also of shocking severity). You also loved helping Dipper with his research of Gravity Falls under Stan's nose of course. He'd kept your room of video tapes under lock, so when you finally convinced him to open it ("it is MY stuff Stan"), Dipper was on Cloud 9 going through all of your recordings. Most of them were trashed unfortunately after years of dust and sitting, but a few of them actually ran back and played, which excited you both.

One morning you went to the Gravity Falls farmers market only to feel the intense scrutiny of everyone's eyes on you until Susan, still the waitress at the pancake place questioned where you had been for the past couple decades. "Um, vacation?" you had sheepishly answered. It seemed to somehow work.

Mabel, Dipper, and Soos took it upon themselves to catch Ford and you up on all the worldwide events you'd missed. Ford was distraught over Princess Diana's death.

While Ford was often stuck in the basement working on his devices and journals, you liked to stay in the gift shop and help at the register, working on writing down all your time over the past years between customer checking out. Wendy thought you were pretty cool for doing it.

You caught Soos once trying to Sharpie on a similar heart under his own eye once. You slowly closed the door despite not breaking eye contact with him. Neither of you ever brought it up.

Ford and you went stargazing most nights on top of the shack. Stan did do a pretty good job installing a dubious, but stable-ish, balcony.

Stan and you were a little awkward at first, as he didn't know if you'd share his brother's attitude towards him or not. You couldn't handle it anymore and ended up buying him a 6 pack of shitty beer and driving the golf cart in donuts outside in the parking lot until you were both doubled over.

Ford and you held another wedding ceremony. A more proper one this time. Dipper was the ring bearer, with Mabel being the flower girl. She unfortunately picked some of a carnivorous variety that started biting their ankles soon after exchanging "I do's".

Mabel took you and Ford out to try and update your wardrobes since everything was stuck in the 80's. Ford blushed every time you stepped out of the dressing room.

Stan tripped you (accidentally) into the Bottomless Pit and Ford nearly killed him on the spot.

You got dragged into supervising the girls on their quest to get unicorn hair and nearly threw out your back while throwing punches at those bratty horses.

Being old in this world was the hardest thing, but you were glad Ford was there to commiserate with. When you had been here last as spry 30 something year olds and were flung back as 60 something year olds. Most night's you'd stare at yourself in the mirror after brushing your teeth until Ford would get up from bed and wrap his arms around your waist and look into the mirror with you. "Still beautiful" he'd mumble as he'd kiss your shoulder. It wasn't that though. Sometimes you just couldn't recognize yourself. You were supposed to have watched the both of you grow older in this house. Not blast back here after decades apart.

"Do you ever feel like we missed out on all those years?" you'd ask Ford one day. "Perhaps. But all we can do is focus on the future at this point, and at least we have that," he'd answer.

Taglist wooooo:

@valinbean

@sunniskyies

@fries11

@fluffymarshmalllows

[bluetooththereptile]

The heir

(yandere Thomas Wayne x male reader x potential yandere Bruce Wayne)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Summary: You never belonged to the world of what would be called by the dimension travelers, the earth 2. You never wanted to end up in the hands of a violent grumpy old man that seemed oh so lonely,but you did and you have build yourself a life by his side, but everything is about to change, and your old man Thomas, wouldn't like it at all.

Tw: mentions of abuse,violence,injuries and unhealthy yandere tendencies.

"For God's sake old man, just take tonight off!" You groaned as you tried to stop Thomas from putting his suit on, the argument had been going on for the past 15 minutes and he had been trying to ignore you, the old bat gave you a side eye glare, the usual response, but you knew it wasn't harsh, he could never be harsh with you, not anymore. He still regretted the day he had slapped you all those years ago, the image of your teary eyes was etched in his memory and nearly as haunting as the memory of Bruce's death. Thomas finally grunted in your response "Leave me be kid".

But you were determined to make him take tonight off, he deserved to rest and take his mind off of the worries of the bleak world out there, you didn't like to see him in that state, nearly drunk and wrecked, it was the night of Bruce's death, and you hated the fact that no matter how much you tried to make him feel better, every year this night He'd be in shambles. You had one solution left, something risky that you knew would cos some problems with you and Thomas, you dragged in a breath "Dad..." Thomas visibly stiffened, you knew how much you calling him by that meant to him and whenever you did so he'd become overbearingly protective of you for the following days days. You did it all the time when you were in your preteens unknowingly feeding into the melting pot of his emotions, but when you started to grow up it turned into something reserved for the most vulnerable situations between you two, a strategy that you'd use for rare occasions "Please, dad...take tonight off..." you said as you put your hand on his shoulder.

"You know I can't..." his tone was now softer, it had worked! You sighed "I know, I know but going out won't help either, take a pill and sleep, I promise nothing will go wrong, I and the boys can handle it" with mentioning the boys Thomas sighed, rubbing his temple, he was considering your words, it progressed!...who would have imagined that you had managed to convince Thomas to take in more sidekicks, something that had started with you befriending a lost boy in one of your patrols had ended up with Thomas surrounding himself with lost but talented boys that would help him in both his duty as batman, and his situation as a father who still tried to heal. It was you who had proved to him that he could take in more, you had given him a new drive.

Thomas turned towards you, his blue eyes softening slightly, you had grown so much in the past decade, from the whimpering child that had ended up on the steps of the Wayne Manor, talking about another world and crying for his dead son, Bruce, who had adopted you in your world, to a capable man, someone that had whipped both the Wayne Manor and Wayne industries into shape and became a solace to his mind. He knew he wasn't a good father figure to you, always smelling of alcohol and busy with work, but you stuck to him like an annoying little sticky patch, but he'd be damned if he'd let this little patch be removed from his side.

"You don't take no for an answer do you?" A remnant of a smirk was on his lips "I've learnt from you" you teased with a chuckle. Thomas surprisingly, after half an hour of persuasion, gave in, putting his cowl back into the wardrobe. It already showed the amount of trust he had in you. "If anything goes wrong you know the consequences" he softly scolded and you only smirked at him, making him roll his eyes slightly, you were always like this.

Watching him walk out of the cave you turned back to put your suit on but then froze at the sight of the five boys standing there with large grins "Shhh..." you hushed them before they could rejoice, you finally had convinced Thomas! The boys let out silent shouts of victory as they strangled each other in the heat of excitement, you couldn't help but laugh. You had grown to see them as your brothers, life in Manor with them wasn't easy, but it was much better than the darkness that had surrounded you and Thomas's life in your first years with him. You had taken the role of the eldest sibling seriously, helping the boys with their training, studies, and lives and here you were, looking at them in their respective suits. Brothers, true brothers.

"You already know where your areas of patrols are don't you?" You spoke as you put your suit on, it was identical to Thomas's, but without a cape, the news had given you the name Shadow Hunter after you had started your role as a more aggressive vigilante, turning from bat boy to your own hero. The boys nodded, arguing with you wasn't worth it, when Y/N would say something it was absolute. Not that the boys didn't understand that you knew what you were doing, it was just that they had their preferences, but you didn't budge.

Two of the boys were now old enough to find their paths but they had chosen to stay, you were a family, a very tight-knit one at that, even if it didn't show. You cared for them greatly "Don't get into trouble" you warned them, reaching to fix their masks and examine their belts and gadgets, they groaned and nagged, calling you their nanny, but you were responsible for them and you didn't want to see them get hurt.

...

"Patrolling alone again?" Cyborg's voice made you roll your eyes mentally. You Had hoped your patrol would be silent and peaceful so you'd go back soon, but apparently, it wouldn't happen. You turned to meet him as he walked towards you, he was always the closest thing you had as the cool uncle figure for you and the boys, but sometimes he went on your nerves, why? you didn't know, it seemed Thomas's grumpiness had influenced you as well. "Old man's taken a day off" you spoke flatly as you paced on top of the roof of the building you were standing on. "How are you Batboy?" He teased, making you give him a soft glare, chuckling in response. It was an old joke now, you were batboy for so long that the veterans in the field still called you by that. After the chuckle defused you sighed and crossed your arms on your chest, looking at a commercial board as you drifted into your thoughts, something inside you made you feel this rather peaceful night was just a calm before the storm, you kept the comms open so if anything was going to happen, you'd hear the boys.

You looked at your shadow cast on the rooftop, tall and board-shouldered, 20 years had passed, a lifetime in a world you didn't belong to. You didn't know but in your original world you were technically the very first Robin of Batman, Bruce hadn't spoken of you since you were pushed into another dimension by the mad scientist that you and Bruce had tried to stop, thinking you were lost in time and space, technically dead. You were only with Bruce for six months, two years before he took Dick in. You were nine and lost in a much darker world. You didn't blame Bruce, actually, you hardly thought of him or your original world, there you were an orphan, unwanted, here, even if it wasn't easy, you had your own family and friends.

Why Thomas took you in though? Suddenly the question popped into your head, making you narrow your eyes at the thought. You didn't know why, Thomas was a very hard man to deal with from the start, his mental space wasn't right at all, and it still was not in a good shape either, perhaps because he had lost a son and now another boy close to Bruce's age at the time of his death had appeared out of nowhere he kept you. Abusive for the first few years, angry and drunk for nearly all the time, you were afraid of Thomas when you were younger, but still you stuck by his side, taking it his tough love, you didn't have any options.

But before you both could figure everything out, things changed after that incident, you had gotten into a fight and it had nearly caused your death, Thomas had slapped you so hard that you fell on the ground, looking up at him with teary eyes. After that Thomas changed, he became more patient with you, took in more boys, and soon the name Wayne was plastered on your ID card, and you had ended up following the path of the semi-CEO of the Wayne industries, the heir of legacies of Batman and Thomas Wayne.

The hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts. "As usual lost in your thoughts eh?" You shrugged at cyborg, making him smile "I give the right to do so" he squeezed your shoulder reassuringly "Being bat's boy isn't easy..." he said, pointing at the scar on your jaw, Thomas once had beat you so hard that it's scar's place didn't heal completely.  You smiled slightly at that "I'm not complaining" you responded, You had forgiven Thomas a long time ago, he had tried his best to take care of you and the boys, and well, even if it wasn't the best parenting you still appreciated. Cyborg opened his mouth to speak but then paused as he got a signal, giving you an apologetic smile he left you alone, before you could say something the comms in your cowl started talking, it was one of the boys "There is a mess, we need backup!"

....

Spent you and the boys sat on a long bench, groaning in unison. The amount of thugs you all had beaten was too much to even count. "That's a new record," one of the boys said as he stretched "I don't know about you but I think I've dislocated a finger" another joked "Should we get something from Five Guys?" "Yep," you all said in unison. You looked at your brothers with a smile, even if you all were covered in bruises and some specks of blood, but still, it was the most precious moment that you could have, your life wasn't easy, but they made it more tolerating.

You chuckled as you watched them interact, but you couldn't help the tugging in your heart, something wasn't right, but what? What?! You stood up and walked to your motorcycle but before you could reach it you felt like everything around you distorted, even the voices of your brothers, but before you could turn around and call for them a force pulled you into oblivion, it was a familiar feeling, something that you had felt years ago. And when you ended up in front of a man wearing that Batman suit and a few others, you knew you were in a different world.

[cazzyf1]

An Article about Lella Lombardi - Nobody makes jokes about women drivers around Lella Lombardi

The sleek Lola T-332 racing car crossed the starting line at the river side, Calif, Grand Prix, hurtled ahead of three cars, and swooped back inside with split-second timings.

"You mean that's really a girl?" Muttered three times indianapolis 500 winner A. J. Foyt, looking on in incredulously from the side liners.

For Lella Lombardi, the first woman in 17 years (and the second ever) to compete on high performance Formula One circut - the big leagues of professionals auto racing - the question is all but invetable. What in the world is a nice Italian girl like Lella doing in overalls and a crash helmet, risking her life at speeds close to 200 miles an hour?

"That's what mama keeps asking me," says the tomboyish 31-year-old Lella, "I guess she thinks I should be home with a good husband and a houseful of bambini."

It was obvious from the beginning, to Lella at least, that she was cut from different cloth compared to most girls. Born in the little Piedmontese village of Furgarolo, she was hooked on auto racing before she was out of diapers.

"The first I remember, I am perhaps 4 or 5 years old," she recalls, "I was making little cars from things I found in my mum's sewing box. When I was 8 I decided I shall be a racing driver. I didn't say anything but I made up my mind."

As a teenager Lella raced motorcycles with boys in her village. The boys were scandalized she beat them - their mothers that she was racing at all. Eventually the village priest came to call.

"He explained why I should be like a girl and what a girl must do," she remembers. "So I told him, 'yes father' but all the time I am thinking why am I not allowed to do as I want."

Nothing if not persistent, Lella saw her first race at 18. Five years later she brought a car of her own, secondhand, Formula Monza 500 that she tinkered with and drove in races herself. Last year, nearly after a decade of coming up through the ranks, she was approached by March Racing Ltd, of England which was looking for a driver for its two-man Grand Prix team.

"Formula 2, Formula 3, Formula 5000 - I raced in them all," says Lella, "I win a lot in Italy - six times women's champion. So when March comes to ask me to try out for them, I say to myself, 'Why not?'"

March's decision to hire her was hardly made lightly. A single Grand Prix car costs $100,000 and putting it through a season of racing costs several hundred thousand dollars more.

"Putting a woman into a Grand Prix cockpit means shattering a lot of tradition," acknowledges March team manager, Max Mosley. "Of course, my wild told me, the only reason I was hesitating was because of Lella's sex, no doubt about her skill, in the end, I guess my wife was right."

Now prepping for this Sunday's Monaco Grand Prix, Lella is given little chance of winning a race this season (although she finished a respectable sixth in last week's accident-shorter Spanish Grand Prix) since March is designing its cars. Some drivers perhaps disturbed by Lella's invasion of their male peserve, doubt the chunky, 5"2, Lombardi has the stamina for long-distance racing. But March chief Roy Wardell, was watching her during a gruelling test of the company's racers, disagrees.

"Thrasing a car about it bloody hard work," he says, "most male drivers would have been bitching and complaining but she drove more than 300 miles flat out without a whimper." Her main fault, says Wardell, is a rookie's understandable caution. "Lella is still a bit afraid that if she spins out everyone will say, 'see a woman driver'" he says, "but her confidence is building. Pretty soon she'll be mixing it up with the best of them."

[visenyaism]

It'd be really funny (if highly unlikely) if Aegon iv just didn't know what the big deal about making a Hightower his hand was. I know his ass was not paying attention in history class.

funniest possible reasons aegon iv hired a hightower to be hand of the king not 40 years after their family nearly whacked his whole dynasty:

3. aegon did nottttt study history and philosophy and had genuinely no idea about the implications of installing a hightower hand before he did it and after that he didn’t care. owning the libs

2. they were cousins

1. jon hightower came into his hand interview like listen i KNOW four decades ago having a hightower hand led to my family starting a civil war where we jumped your grandma in front of your uncle traumatizing him for life and had your dad kidnapped which led to him getting forcefully married off leading to YOUR tumultuous awful childhood and killed your grandpa and also 3 of your uncles and all the dragons which created the massive spiritual void that caused baelor and daeron to lose it and also you maybe BUT i would be a good candidate for the hand job because- and Aegon interrupts him like why do you think i asked you to be here. run that shit back for me greenie boy let’s do that again i hate this family so much

[kandlewick]

i'll dry the villain's tears pt.2

you get reincarnated into a role that became the breaking point of the villain's story and you, be it an unwillingness to cause them harm or a desire to survive, must work hard to make sure they grow into a better (or at least safer) person.

all entries are meant to be read as platonic. all are meant to be taken place in the TWST universe accurate to the game.

It was a very strange feeling, being immortal. Within the blink of your eyes, decades had past and you still didn't know why you were brought to this desert world and why you were granted a second chance at life. Your memory is broken and fading, yesterdays felt like years and years felt like yesterdays. Very few things mattered enough anymore for you to remember. All you can piece together is the distant, far off memory of waking up from what felt like a long nap and falling into the arms of a man clothed in rags.

He's dead now. Has been for a long time.

But now, you serve his family - his descendants. The shackles that once bound you were broken off centuries ago but... Something was telling you to stay, to wait. You were needed here. You didn't know how long you would have to wait but nothing could pull you from your course. Nothing.

It wasn't until the birth of Kalim Al-Asim that you remembered. Everything came rushing back, flooding your mind's eyes with visions of blot and tears as the palace erupted into cheers and praises, everyone around you eager to celebrate the good news. The birth of this child would surely be a blessing to everyone around him.

Except..

for Jamil Viper.

You had to find him.

For the first few months, you practically tore up the palace, ignoring the cries and complaints of the servants and guests in your pursuits, claiming you mad behind their hidden mouths and jeering tongues.

"Why are they searching so hard for a servant boy?"

"Our blessed and loved Kalim Al-Asim has been born! Why wouldn't they want to shower him in their blessings?"

"Surely this dijinn has gone mad with age!"

You ignored the servants and their trite giggling over meaningless chores. Your cause was greater then their own.

It wasn't until several months later that you found him. In the arms of his mother and father, you found the child that would curse the name of his brother in near everything but blood and nearly wept in pity. You clutched your fist, ignoring the whispers and the gawking of the palace servants and guards as you knelt down and pressed your lips to the child's palm, smiling as the innocent child giggled at you. It knew nothing of the future it would've been granted if they didn't have a friend like you.

"Don't worry, child, your life will be a happy one."

"Watch where you're swinging that thing! You nearly smacked the intern's head clean off!!"

Was that why you were seeing stars?

You stumbled for a second, nearly dragging a boom mic down with you as your legs tried to catch your near dead weight. The man carrying the wooden beam didn't even apologize as he carried on with what he was doing. In fact, nobody really seemed to care after they knew you weren't knocked out cold on the floor, knowing they just dodged a lengthy worker's comp.

"Yeah... thanks guys. Really feeling the teamwork," you grumbled, blinking past the tears. Where were you anyways?

Wait, that was strange. Why couldn't you remember anything? You remembered important details like what car you owned, where you lived, how to drive a car, but your past, your name, everything was gone like a balloon just popped between your ears.

"Ugh, maybe I do need to get myself that worker's compensation," You grumbled, rubbing your palm against your forehead, "Everything's coming out all topsy-turvy..."

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a loud smack against your back, nearly sending you reeling back into the boom mic's loving arms. "Hey, intern! The star needs something to wake him up, go get a drink from the cafe downstairs. You know what he likes, right?"

You spluttered as the burly man, obviously your boss, shoved a credit card into your hand and walked off back on set, not even giving you the chance to open your mouth to respond. You bit back a scowl, choosing instead to pocket the card and noiselessly stomp out of the recording studio, silently cursing your luck.

It continued all the to the cafe where you realized, hey, you really don't remember what ''the star'' liked in caffeinated beverages. The barista, equally as tired as you, watched in workplace related misery as you fumbled for ideas.

"Uh... hey," You tried reading their name tag, "Mim? What's the most popular drink you got here? I'll have one of those?"

"One java-chipped cappuccino coming right up~"

You pulled out one of the chairs at a table and sat yourself down while you waited and tried to piece together what exactly had happened to you. You were an intern, you could recall, barely scraping by in the big city with dreams of being film crew. You had graduated college with high grades, nothing to sniff at, but you had chosen to intern at this particular business for some reason. You pinched your brows but the more you thought about it, the more annoyed you got. The sound of your name being called was just the wake up call you needed.

The barista handed your drink before centering their gaze to your chest. You followed their gaze and found their eyes linked with the nametag laced around your neck as you ran the credit card to pay.

"Wow," they tapped their nail against the counter, "You're working with the Vil Schoenheit? That must be pretty crazy."

You let out a loud squawk in shock as memories came flooding back, accidentally sending the coffee half way across the counter and on to the floor, the foam and drink dripping all over the freshly wiped down tile. Your arm remained high in the air as you both looked at the mess you had made.

"I'll... um... can you hand me some napkins?"

[princess-of-the-corner]

I had too much fun with the life swap and extended it to other characters XD Ignore Miraculous and Amoks for the moment, this is about dynamics!

Nino swaps with Sabrina, IE, glasses childhood best friend who is haplessly crushing on their other half.

For Sabrina his is actually pretty straight forward as its both a crush but also admiration. Chloe is bold, aggressive, passionate, not at all like her who is a shrinking violet. But the thing is if they started dating, she'd be so stressed out all the time because "What do you mean you got in a fist fight with Kim? Why are you skateboarding with Alix down a cliff, did you seriously spit in that Akuma's face!?"

Basically they are friends, but also the embodiment of "This is fun!" - "Stressful is what it is!"

Nino meanwhile has had his interest in film backed and sponsored by Dupain-Cheng money since forever. And he's also been making Marinette the star of said films since forever. To the point where all the films and ideas he comes up with are built around her interests rather than his. This can be fine but can lead to tension if someone encourages him to finally make that horror film he always wanted.

They are friends, but the toxic, transactional nature of it all is an ever-growing undercurrent.

Now for the transfer student swap!

Alya's mother is a famous TV chef, her father is a famous TV personality for his animal program, (Basically Steve Erwin but more aloof) While her sister is a world champion kick boxer and MMA fighter. Alya meanwhile is a social media personality, it wasn't planned, it just kind of happened but once she got some attention for a "Day in my life" video, suddenly her parents are throwing money and resources and pressure behind it in the extreme.

Rather than pure childhood friends, Alya & Marinette are more social media friends meeting for the first time. Marinette's Velvet glove is harder to notice than canon Chloe's iron fist but it will cause tension.

Meanwhile Adrien is returning to Paris after nearly a decade away. His parents both work in television, his mother is basically a C list celebrity in long running daytime dramas and is father work in costuming, they were also meant to help Andre with his new "Perfect families in Paris" campaign but then a super villain showed up.

Adrien and Chloe are very much childhood friends reconnecting, but thanks to Adrien being "Down for anything" after a decade with over protective parents, they click!

-

As an aside, I imagine Chloe & Marinette's dynamic is also different, but definitely tense. I basically imagine Marinette might still be into fashion and she wants to be a "Self made millionaire" type. So she doesn't just want her parents advocating for her, or buying her stuff. So she instead uses money, resources and clot provided by being their daughter to try and crow-bar her way into the industry.

See its different because she's using their influence, rather than them using their influence ;)

Anyway, because of this, she wanted Audrey to review one of her pieces, waiting till Chloe desperately needed something and struck. Then one of the following happened:

1: Audrey refused to review it because she's a grown up with contractual obligations who can't just run some random teenagers designs on a whim when she has people scheduled.

2: Marinette found someone "better" and so carelessly withdrew her support for Chloe before realizing the implications.

3: Audrey reviewed it but was not breathless with her praise, basically: You clearly have talent, but could improve on X Y, and you should ask yourself who you are designing for, or else you may struggle to find an audience, good luck." & oh boy was that not good enough!

Whatever the case, Marinette withdrew her support from Chloe right when she needed it most and it led to a huge row and basically demonstrated how Fairweather Marinette's friendship was.

No they hadn't been super close, but Chloe had thought they were friends to one degree or another and getting closer, this was a blow.

Marinette meanwhile, well, she dislikes that Chloe saw that side of her with such clarity because its a side of her she doesn't like, but doesn't want to face. So instead it has to be Chloe's fault somehow.

Thus the two have tension.

Ohohoho I love it!

Okay but what are we doing with the Heroes and Villains angle? Would it still be Gabe as Hawkmoth trying to resurrect Emilie? Or do the Cesaires get to be Villains? Would Mari and Adrien still be LB and CN, or are different people getting the Miraculous? Should we limit it to the full swap for Chloé and Alya, or is it open to anyone?

[shychick-52]

Louie and Della's development (long post)

In honor of Louie and Della Day (which I'm a day late for), I thought I'd post my favorite scenes:

I always found it very interesting that in 'The Secret of Castle McDuck', Louie was the most upset and affected by Dewey keeping his investigation and findings about their mom a secret (and I love how it clearly sounds like he's holding back tears; fantastic reading by Bobby Moynihan).

"You kept a secret about Mom."

"That is not ok."

And when Della came back in 'Nothing Can Stop Della Duck', he thought it was way too good to be true, thinking it was "a trick, or a curse from Magica, or a parallel universe" (and it was perfect how the most street-smart and shifty triplet was immediately on his guard- because like he said in another episode, "You can't outcon a con"- and the thing is, his concerns were totally valid and not that farfetched after everything they've seen and experienced with Scrooge):

And I love how he couldn't keep up his reservations for more than a few seconds before tearfully embracing her with his brothers:

"Mom!"

And... ngl, that's why I hate how Louie immediately goes back to being skeptical, reserved, and forcing himself to be emotionally distant throughout nearly the rest of the episode, even after Della spoke from the bottom of her heart (before she began trying to bond with them):

"Boys, I don't know what to say. Except that I am so sorry I ever set foot on that rocket. I never meant to leave you... or miss your first steps... or potty-training..."

"What I'm trying to say is... for a decade, I have fought to get back to this family. And I will fight every day to be a part of it, if you'll have me."

Louie is still uncertain, and starts to say "I- I-" but the others eagerly embrace her and declare them to be a family again.

It always bothers me that Dewey had to force Louie's hand on top of Della's.

*Still speaking from her heart* "I missed you so much! You deserve to have the best mom and I'm going to be the best mom, starting right now!"

And YES, before anyone says it, I do get why Louie felt the way he did, especially being the most independent and cynical triplet:

"Hey, look, don't get me wrong. Of course I'm happy to have Mom back. I don't know, it's probably my fault... I've gone so long without a mom, I guess I don't really know how to have one?"

His feelings are absolutely understandable and valid, and she was still basically a stranger to him at that point- I mean, Donald kept them in the dark about their mom and her legacy (their whole family legacy) all their lives, and it took finding out their brother was secretly investigating her for him and Huey to find out more about her and the Spear of Selene- but it still disappoints me after how upset he was about Dewey keeping secrets about her, how he was so quick to emotionally accept her right after being so instinctively skeptical at first, and after her emotional, earnest speech to them.

It bothers me that it took her risking her life to save Louie to prove herself to him, or to realize she truly does care. Like, not only is she a veteran adventurer, but she's their mom- ofc she'd do that without thinking twice about it!

But I absolutely love her end speech and Louie's response. It didn't feel like a rehash of her speech from earlier in the episode, when you think about the conversation she overheard about them struggling to come to terms with having her in their lives (especially how Louie was the most skeptical):

"Huey. Dewey. Louie. I know you're not used to having a mom. And I am not used to being one. But I'll figure it out as we go along."

Louie: "We all will."

And I always get emotional during their conversation in the season 2 finale, "Moonvasion". It felt like not only a perfect conclusion to Louie's arc in that season, but the development of his and Della's relationship (including after all unfortunate drama starting in 'Timephoon') . Scared for their future because of the Moonvasion, Della is sadly humming her old lulaby as she looks at her drawing of her boys. Louie notices she's alone and apparently not doing so great, and actually feels comfortable enough to approach her about it:

"Hey, Mom."

"I drew this back when I had to imagine what you boys looked like."

"I think you really nailed Dewey."

"On the moon, all I could think about was being your mom. The adventure, the fun. I wasn't prepared for... all this."

Louie: "Look, I hate surprises. I like seeing every angle of a situation so I can take control of it. But you can't plan for everything... sometimes a robot boy uses you for a pinata."

Della: "I think I'm losing the thread here..."

Louie: "But sometimes the mom you thought you lost comes back. And that's a surprise too. So, you deal with bad surprises because they may lead to a good one."

"But what if Lunaris succeeds? What if I lose you again? What if-"

"You know, when I'm terrified- which is often- I try to remember this old song:

Face each new sun with eyes clear and true.

Unafraid of the unknown-"

Della: -"Because I'll face it all with you."

"I wrote that song before I got lost. How did you hear it?"

"Well, Uncle Donald used to sing it to us when we were little."

Not only does it beautifully fulfill the development in their relationship and allow them to move past the drama between them, not only does Louie reach incredible growth in his maturity, but it's Louie being the parent to Della... comforting her and offering her reassurance (and I love Louie showing a moment of weakness/vulnerability in admitting he often gets scared, which is not easy for him). A perfect way to conclude the second season, Louie's arc, and the development of Della's return to the family.

Thoughts?

[mochi-kitty]

Being an impulse fan is like walking the edge of a knife sometimes

Rant about cartoon impulse that morphs into complaints about the young justice show itself.

Please scroll I just needed to complain a little

cuz on one hand that’s my boy. My complicated driven and violent creature who sometimes doesn’t understand that danger is realTM… and to see him animated is a dream but the only place he’s really animated is in a half anime half cartoon low effort art style series that sorta got him right in the season they introduced him in but then when the show got rebooted they turned his cringe dial allllll the way up and it’s kind of painful to rewatch because they didn’t hold onto a single bit of his story in the reboot after season 2 and if you thought they hated writing him in the newer comics well they also hate to do it in animation (as said previously they just never know what to do with the flashes hence why Wally barely appeared in Justice league unlimited). Season 2 impulse was okay, I was happy with what I got. Season 3 kid flash was unbearable. Season 4 kid flash was better but not as good as season 2 and they brushed over his involvement like nothing.

It just sucks so much because an impulse series is never going to happen. The TV Industry is too far into other genres like Harley Quinn and kiteman to even attempt spending money on adapting the impulse comics even if it would find a small audience, the fandom is just too divided between the multiple interpretations that were created for Bart Allen over the years. From aging him down when he shouldn’t have been to making him more adult and then never using him or killing him off to make him young again.

And it SUCKS so much because was keeping his comic personality in the young Justice show too much to ask for? Could the writers really not find any use for him past season 2? Could they not be bothered to read up on his lore? Not even from the wiki?

I keep thinking of what it would be like if the show directors had just a little more wiggle room to work with. Like if they didn’t HAVE to keep a central plot involving 30 different characters to wrap up a 24 episode season with a big battle at the end only to remember in hindsight that they A. forgot some characters still had holes in their plots and B. no one got character development that was substantial enough to matter. We had up to nearly a decade between season 2 and season 3 and it was a miracle in itself that it even got this chance in the first place. Even I admit I was too excited to care at the time but now it’s kind of painful to find all the faults in it when it’s been left again on the back burner of a greedy studio. From the time skips to introducing SO MANY new characters all in one season,,, the show practically dug itself in a hole and I will die on this hill. I understand the time constraints, the money issues, the audience reacting to a new season years after the last one when we’ve turned the internet into a harsher judgement zone. They wanted to include every character DC ever created, if only to please that one DC fan who even knew about Halo or dolphins existence and then add in real world issues on top of that to make it relatable.

IMO they bit off more then they could chew. Despite what redditers will tell you, the time skips were a cheap way to avoid certain parts of the characters development and they hindered more then they helped. Not only did we not get to grow with our original team of hero’s, we had to accept that we wouldn’t get to see 7 years of their growth (not even in flashbacks). And it just kept happening in a lesser volume with each season. Add on top of that we had the 20 new people they’d introduce who’d get the same no development treatment. Season 4, of course, tried to course correct and made little arcs for the original characters to get developed. Almost 9 years within the story later and with one of the original dead for no reason.

I just keep wondering if they hadn’t done any of that, what it would be like. Even the big rolling up hill plot of 24 episodes that crests 14 minutes into the last 20 minute episode with the remaining 6 minutes being the down time. If we had it more like the original Justice league cartoon with part 1-2 episodes focusing on one major plot or issue with all or most team members showing up. Or if we had kept it like season 1 with the monster of the week style of episodes (see supernatural season 1 to know monster of the week better) would we have gotten better character development? Would it have paced out the big bad reveal at the end more efficiently? Would it have forced the writers to actually read up on the characters they were adapting past their surface level personality? We’ll never know.

I can’t even hate the young justice plot that much either because it’s not terrible, it just the way they play dolls with the characters that hurts because I want to love it. My fav has been animated and I can see them move past their still comic pages and hear them actually talk on screen, that alone should be enough but it’s not.

Not when I can’t rewatch any of it without the high chance of getting second hand embarrassment if I don’t pay attention to when I have to skip ahead. An issue that wouldn’t even be a thing if the writers had JUST ORGANIZED THEMSELVES A LITTLE BETTER AND READ THE DAMN CHARACTERS COMICS A LITTLE.

I can’t even talk about the outfits or art style or the battle animations or the relationships or the specific character based plot holes or the change of priority the reboot brought or idk maybe Wally’s death??

[junk-story]

Interview: Ongaku to Hito and Sakurai Atsushi - Ichikawa Tetsushi x Kanemitsu Hiroshi, Part II

This interview is on pages 52-57 of the magazine. Footnotes are included in numbered parentheses and can be found at the bottom. For Part 1 of this interview, click here.

~~~~~~~

Ichikawa: It may have been a shock, but in short, [BUCK-TICK's] material elevated. Really, because they were able to turn their work into art, we can grasp now how they were able to bring forth a decadent rock masterpiece like 21st Cherry Boy. Although that kind of dark decadence is seen as a negative, they established it as an excellent form of entertainment, which is fantastic. When I listened to that, I wondered, “Why has Sakurai made a breakthrough to this point?” What did you make of that? 

Kanemitsu: I think he was able to gradually create distance between himself and the band - in a good way. It wasn’t because their relationship had worsened, and there were still times where they’d be up until the morning drinking, but, as you might expect, after nearly 20 years had passed since they debuted, their relationships with people had expanded too, right? When that happened, this sort of scene, where Imai-san would finish an interview and the other 4 were drinking while they waited for him, it almost completely disappeared. This positive sense of individualism is how BUCK-TICK came to be born. 

Ichikawa: I see. In the 21st century, I was listening to the works of B-T as a fan only, so I didn’t bear the weight of that darkness. 

Kanemitsu: What I call acting out the darkness, that elevated their work as entertainment. But normally, when you have this individualism come to be, it leads to actively pursuing solo activities…and that can be troublesome, certainly. 

Ichikawa: That’s the self-indulgence I talked about earlier. (laughs) When that happens in a regular band, they disband and it’s over. Suddenly some new thing starts, and the other members end up not knowing what to do. But Sakurai ended up feeling guilt about this, because he was a man with a kind heart. Thanks to that, the unique worth they had as a band that continued for 35 years with its original members came to be. 

Kanemitsu: In what ways did you feel Sakurai-san’s kindness? 

Ichikawa: Well, in many ways, the Sakurai Atsushi I carry with me is still a yankii(1), you know, a good-looking yankii full of chivalry. We talked about the time when his mother passed before, but there is no shortage of that kind of material. For instance, the launching issue of Ongaku to Hito. I asked Sakurai to be in it as well, and even though it wasn’t around the timing of any [album] release, he said, “Well, since it’s a magazine Ichikawa-san is creating, I’ll do it”, and in the middle of a national tour he came back to Tokyo from Numazu after the concert was over, and it was after midnight at an oden food stall in Sendagaya where we had a no-makeup photoshoot and interview. He was a man who could simply do such things. 

Kanemitsu: What about Sakurai Atsushi made us so charmed by him, do you think? 

Ichikawa: Hmmm…his face? 

Kanemitsu: Well, that’s some brutal honesty!(2) But certainly, it was important. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Wahahaha. There’s that issue with Sakurai Atsushi on the cover where he’s wearing an unremarkable white shirt and has a slight smile, right?(3) That one is among my top three favorites. For some reason, it was a time where there weren’t any interesting releases, and there was no content to be had during this lull, so we ended up in a tight spot for an artist to put on the cover. To be honest, we made the offer to Sakurai like, “heeeelp!”, and I was grateful when he readily consented. They also didn’t have any releases coming up, so I suggested we try a risky(4) cover with no decadence, where Sakurai had a casual appearance and is looking into the camera with a smile; he had also become more concentrated(5) at that time and said, “Let’s do it!”

Kanemitsu: That’s why he cut his hair without anyone’s permission. (laughs)

Ichikawa: I’m glad we didn’t go that far with it. (laughs) But really, Sakurai Atsushi could not be detached from my magazine. There were always plenty of guys skillful at conversation, but I have never met another frontman who, even though he wasn’t good at speaking, could expose his inner thoughts to such a point. Of course, there were also those with negative feelings, like, “It’s all just to tickle the B-T girls’ fancies”, but I hoped, even without him knowing, if we could drain the low-water swamp called Sakurai Atsushi, something amazing would happen. I wanted to do something with this man. It was the same for you too, right, Kanemitsu? 

Kanemitsu: I didn’t have that “I want to do something”. But I did have something like a maternal instinct. (laughs)

Ichikawa: (wry laugh) I understand that too. You can’t leave him alone. 

Kanemitsu: Because at some point, there were only a few articles about the album releases outside of ours. 

Ichikawa: Why was that? As I said earlier, during my time, he spoke frantically as if it was needed to confirm something to himself - so in other words, something must have changed where he could become more self-contained. 

Kanemitsu: It was like Sakurai-san created his own style. As though, dressed up in decadence and gothic imagery, he tried to act out his ideal Sakurai Atsushi. 

Ichikawa: The same as kabuki. The great name of “Sakurai Atsushi” was focused as he would be in the traditional Japanese arts. 

Kanemitsu: Yes, yes. I think that was a good thing. 

Ichikawa: It finally makes sense to me. So that’s why it happened. That Prince of Darkness character was created. 

Kanemitsu: There was what you call the Prince of Darkness character, but he also loved cats, which brought out his playful face. If such a person were to appear on TV with Shiina Ringo, everyone would be hooked. 

Ichikawa: A rare creature, really. (laughs) This may be inappropriate, but it seemed to me that Sakurai could only bring the curtain down(6) on Sakurai Atsushi in the way he did, or by going into a life of seclusion, unknown to anyone. Because he was carrying such sin(7) with him. 

Kanemitsu: Well, as someone who saw him from the 21st century point of view, I feel that he’d aged well in this way, and he wanted to enjoy the rest of his life happily. It’s just that he was a sensitive person, so he was affected by things like children being displaced by war, the oppression of people based on gender, and so on, and when he tried to get closer to the emotions of the weak, he would be forced to remember his own pain, so I suppose in the current era, it was hard for him to live…that’s what I think, anyway. 

Ichikawa: Hearing the talk about the Sakurai Atsushi of the 21st century from Kanemitsu today, it makes sense now. For me, who only knew the Sakurai of the 20th century, the Sakurai of the 21st century is like a different person. I was very fascinated with him all the same. I don’t mean this in a bad way, but it’s like he established a whole separate persona. How can I say this…maybe I could call it guilt. I could see his guilt so clearly through his songs in the 20th century, and it was made invisible in the 21st century. And, invisible things aren’t bad ones. Because that just shows how accomplished he was at fulfilling his role as Prince of Darkness. That’s also how he elevated to being a charming big name. 

Kanemitsu: As a musician, an artist, the purity of his expression had reached a level so high as to be incomparable [to anyone else]. 

Ichikawa: His skill in the 21st century clearly went up. But, although the Sakurai Atsushi of the 20th century was still a work in progress, that progress had turned into a serious dead end that was plain to see. So there were many people who were able to empathize, and I think he himself, the band, the media, and the fans all came together, able to become a community with a shared destiny. It’s strange, but in other media, BUCK-TICK was just shown as a cool band, right? However, at Ongaku to Hito, it wasn’t like that in either the 20th or 21st century. 

Kanemitsu Because we got to see them as 5 people with 5 different styles of character. 

Ichikawa: In other words, they’re “Osomatsu-kun”(8).

Kanemitsu: Hahahahaha!

Ichikawa: When I was doing it, they were “Osomatsu-kun”, and while Kanemitsu’s been doing it they’ve been “Osomatsu-san”. Their appearance between the Showa and Heisei eras was totally different, but the original people were the same. In both the 20th and 21st centuries, Sakurai was Sakurai, and his foundation and attitude didn’t change, only his appearance from that of an unusual self-deprecating man to the Prince of Darkness did; as a result, he was popular in both cases. So, as Ongaku to Hito, speaking from our beginning, he is the person we should be the most grateful for, and he was the kind of man who made me feel like I had to include him in our publication. 

Kanemitsu: He was. No matter how cool Sakurai Atsushi looked on the stage, everyone knows that he actually also had these traits. 

Ichikawa: Of course, with that presence, that appearance, and the look in his eyes, no one would know he was actually this cute and loveable character. 

Kanemitsu: Through the medium of Ongaku to Hito, you and I wrote about those parts of him, so now everyone knows. 

Ichikawa: That’s true…a long time ago, when I was doing a late-night Friday FM radio live broadcast, I had Sakurai on as my first guest. We were at the Satellite Studio in Ginza, and even though I hadn't asked them to come, Takuro and Hisashi [of GLAY] came. We finished at 3 AM and the 4 of us were drinking when Sakurai said, “Will you come to my place?”, which was unusual. When we went there, the windows - all of the windows - had these pitch black curtains on them, it was like being at a planetarium. (laughs)

Kanemitsu: Hahahahahaha!

Ichikawa: We drank in that dark room until we eventually were struck by sleep, but even when I woke up, it was pitch black and I had no idea what time it was. (laughs) When the sun was at its peak, I woke those 2 [from GLAY] up and they went home, but while that was happening, Takuro said to Hisashi, “If you’d told me 10 years ago that I’d go to the home of BUCK-TICK’s Sakurai Atsushi and drink together with him, I never would have believed you”, and I’ve never forgotten that. It was purely moving, emotionally. 

Kanemitsu: Everyone wanted to become like Sakurai Atsushi. 

Ichikawa: It must have been a dream for them. However, it’s a dream that no one could achieve. This sounds misleading, but I think you have to want to be like Yoshiki [of X JAPAN], if you’re going to abandon yourself to despair(9). (wry laugh) But no matter what gimmicks you make use of, you’ll never be Sakurai Atsushi. And for better or worse, it was tough. 

Kanemitsu: I’ve said this many times, but him finding that gothic style was big. 

Ichikawa: The gothic atmosphere seemed like maybe the one he was most comfortable in. The decadence created a kind of surreal and abnormal worldview. But Sakurai Atsushi himself was not abnormal at all, nor was he trying to intentionally deviate strongly from what’s accepted(10). It was just the suit of armor(11) that best fit when he was confronting the world, definitely. 

Kanemitsu: It was Sakurai Atsushi’s suit of armor, wasn’t it. But whether he ended up putting it on or not, he empathized with people’s sadness, and he was a person who could shed tears. And because that seeped out, everyone loved him. Those feelings [of empathy] were expressed in what became his last album, Izora. 

Ichikawa: I see. Well, perhaps he would have continued on expressing it, if he could. 

Kanemitsu: I really think so. There were yet many things he could do, and many he would have wanted to do.

~~~~~~~ Footnotes: (1) I think most people into this scene are familiar with this term, but in case you aren’t - yanki/yankii refers to a young delinquent, usually one who dresses in a sort of street/biker style. (2) If someone has ever said to you, “wow, tell us how you really feel!”, it has the same sort of feeling to it as that, although a bit more polite since Ichikawa is the elder of the two, lol. (3) I believe he is referring to the January ‘95 issue cover, based on his description. (4) Risky in the sense of something not usually done. “Nikopachi” is the type of photography he describes, and online sources generally spoke negatively of it as something not befitting professional photography. (5) Literally “boiled down”. I think this is a reference to paring back his visuals from what they were earlier in their career. (6) This is a metaphor for Sakurai’s passing - but I liked the nuance of his wording and tried to retain it. (7) This word really does not translate well - in different contexts it can be sin, guilt, karma. I translate it again as “guilt” below as it’s more befitting the context, but in all cases here, it’s a sort of heavy emotional load brought upon oneself. My husband’s preferred definition translated to “a living with the burden of past wrongdoings and feeling a sense of remorse”. (8) Per Wikipedia: a comedy manga that revolved around of group of brothers who cause all sorts of mischief. (9) I asked for more clarity on this - what he is getting at is, it’s possible, if you really want to, to become like Yoshiki, but no matter what you do, you can never become like Atsushi. (10) The direct translation for this was “be a heretic”, but heretic is a loaded word in English, and this does not have any Christian overtones. (11) He specifically says “mobile suit”, as in the suits from Gundam.

[warnersister]

Chapter 1 - The Return to Miramar

The Highwayman Series | Prologue | Chapter 2

‘No Entry – Construction (TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY DUE TO FINISH 1869)’ the sign read and the frontman on his horse creased his brows into a tight and questioning line. “1869? But its 1863.” He said, voice in a questioning tone. “haven’t you heard?” his companion asked “east and west are racing to see who can build the most. Gonna be shut a while” he said matter of factly, while straightening out his mustache from where the Tennessee heat had frazzled it. The former grunted in response “this is our way though” “well were gonna have to go a different way hangman, don’t fancy getting Spitfire killed by a train” the other told him, motioning to the fine mare he was riding on. He nodded “yeah hornets too young for that, rooster you’re right. You know a different way?” hangman asked. Rooster thought for a minute, straightening out his mustache again, already bunching up under the springtime humidity – but this time, more in thought than in maintenance as he turned to look at his surroundings “already crossed Mississippi” he said, remembering when they’d crossed the mighty river – not wishing to back track on that path. “were gonna have to go the whole way round, through missouri – Kansas, take a left at colorado” “could we not go trough Texas?” Hangman asked, thinking of a shorter route they used to traverse a decade prior. Rooster raised his brows “aint Sherrif Simpson still after us?” he asked and his friend shrugged. “Already told the rest of ‘em to meet us in Louisiana and it’ll take weeks, months to get there if not, were good as dead if the Indians aint as hospitable again” there was silence for a minute “plus you’ve got a stache now and I’ve got this sweet bod, he wont recognise us” Hangman said, flexing while Rooster threw his head back and laughed loudly “bod ain’t as good as mine, bagman” Rooster said and the other shook his head “c’mon. Texas it is."

This route was fresh, recognisable but still; new-(ish). There were plenty of structures that were erected since they’d last abided there, especially in the Plains – a substantially belittled number of natives and much more Easterns who you could tell had no business being in Western heat – searching for green grass but getting tumble weeds in lieu. They’d reached their meeting point but a week later, reconsiliating with Coyote and Bob who’d been engaging in business up in the rockies, taking the strongest horses but only returning with one. “Hercules?” Hangman asked and bob shook his head “struggled all the way up, slipped, poor boy couldn’t handle it. Was cryin’ in the night he was. Had’a put him out o’ his misery” the four all bowed their heads and shook them in remembrance for their fallen companion. “damn” rooster said. “Well there's no way the two of ya can manage all the way to New Mexico on Chinook, let alone California” Hangman said. “we passed a ranch on the way down here in northern Texas, town called Miramar” Bob told him as Rooster and Hangman shared a look. “Ain’t that where we nearly got hung?” Rooster asked “sure is Brad.” Hangman thought for a moment “Good mares?” Hangman asked “the best” coyote said “young lady an’all. Mighty fine on the eyes” “guess we’re heading up North.”

The ride was slightly awkward with Coyote and Bob both on one horse, they changed primary rider every hundred or so miles – and it made it easier to travel at night, but still; a man wanted his own horse and Coyote was proud of Chinook, but the horse was starting to weary with some three hundred pounds on his back. But eventually they saw the sign. White lettering and red background, carved so deeply into old mahogany and almost illegible, but it was undeniably so: Miramar. So close you could almost make out Oklahoma, but far enough away and enough Stetsons present to recognise the contrast between what was and what wasn’t Texan territory. “where’s this ranch of yours, Bob?” Jake asked, swallowing harshly as he eyed the infamous town over his sunglasses; Bob pointed straight ahead, and adjacent to the Sheriff’s office, was an unassuming parlour attacked to a decently sized acreage of farm, a good seven or eight horses feeding off their dinner. “alright. Let’s get in and get out.” Jake said, instructing his horse to move forward as he did so. “you guys got history here or something?” Javy asked and rooster snorted “yeah something like that” “what happened?” Bob asked “lets just say he had a thing for the Sherrif’s daughter and he organised to hang him if he didn’t get out of town.” Rooster explained, recalling the events from what seemed like yesterday. Jake cleared his way as a way to get the lot of them to shut up. He still had the ring he was going to give her in his breast pocket.

They drew a lot of attention as they rode through town – strangers clearly dressed in travelling attire. But they were the Highwaymen, not pilgrims. Coyote hopped off the back of Chinook and Bob followed suit, heading to the girl who had their back turned to them, currently attending to a young pony who seemed to refuse to leave the refuge of her stables. “Excuse me, ma’am – any of these horses for sale?” “Uh huh the lot of ‘em” she’d replied, turning to the strangers to greet them as customers. Jake felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. “jake?” “hey, petal” he replied, unable to muster anything else as he looked at you, still as mighty fine if not more gorgeous than he day he’d hit the road with rooster. You looked to his left and nodded “Brad” “hey pretty” after the short and unsweetened reunion. “Y’all should get off my ranch. My daddy still has a right mind lynchin’ the two of ya” you say smally, turning to reattend to the horse. “Still?” Rooster asked with a smirk but Jake was taking it more seriously as you nodded your head to the stocks “meaner than the day you left” “sweetheart-“ “I aint talkin to you, Jake” you say and look at your feet “look, my horse passed in the rockies; was hopin’ I could but a new ‘un to get us to California. Got any up for the job?” Bob asked and you looked at him. “Uh, we got a few. Albatros is gorgeous and strong, but I don’t think she’ll last ‘till Cali.” You place your hands on your hips, surverying the pack “Falcon, he’ll get you there but no further.” You say “that there” you point at the strong, pale coloured horse in the back of the field “Lightning. God he can ride, got the strength of Zeus. He’ll get you there, hell he’ll get you through Mexico and back. But he’s my favourite, he’s gonna cost ya” Jake smiled “God he was just a young’un a few years back. My, he's grown” he says, recalling the day he’d gifted you the horse. He’d saved up all his money, didn’t even steal him, brought him all the way from New Mexico. Didn’t even ride him, he walked on foot – made sure the mare had his breaks and god your smile when you accepted him. His hair matched Jakes, so he’d always be there when he wasn’t. “You’re willing to sell him? After all this time?” you finally look at him, pain apparent in your eyes “you left, Seresin” that hurt “you bought him as a reminder. Don’t need no reminder of you, boy” you say “well ‘m here now-“ “exactly.” You cut him off and there is a silence.

“How much for Lightning?” Bob asked after a while. “Make me an offer.”

Prologue | Chapter 2

[jules-has-notes]

Boy Bands in 5 Minutes — VoicePlay music video

People have been singing together since there have been people, but the specific phenomenon of boy bands really took form during the mid-20th century. In that grand tradition, VoicePlay had been performing a medley of songs from their mainstream counterparts infused with their own trademark silliness at live shows for years. With a few tweaks and a lot of hard work, they created this incredible audio-visual tour through decades of pop, rock, motown, and hip-hop hits. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. That is, if you can resist dancing along.

Details:

title: Boy Bands in 5 Minutes

original songs / performers: "I Want It That Way" by Backstreet Boys; [0:16] "I Want You Back" by The Jackson 5; [0:42] "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" by The Beatles; [1:02] "Ain't Too Proud To Beg" by The Temptations; [1:23] "Walk Like A Man" by The Four Seasons; [1:54] "Candy Girl" by New Edition; [2:05] "Poison" by Bell Biv DeVoe; [2:23] "You Got It (The Right Stuff)" by New Kids on the Block; [2:39] "Thank You" & "Motownphilly" by Boyz II Men; [3:08] "The Hardest Thing" by 98 Degrees; [3:29] "I Want It That Way" (reprise); [4:03] "Pop" by *NSYNC; [4:29] "Best Song Ever" by One Direction; [4:50] "Fake Love" by BTS

written by: "I Want It That Way" by Andreas Carlsson & Max Martin; "I Want You Back" by Berry Gordy, Freddie Perren, Alphonso Mizell, & Deke Richards; "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" by John Lennon & Paul McCartney; "Ain't Too Proud To Beg" by Norman Whitfield & Eddie Holland; "Walk Like A Man" by Bob Crewe & Bob Gaudio; "Candy Girl" by Maurice Starr & Michael Jonzun; "Poison" by Elliot "Dr. Freeze" Straite; "You Got It (The Right Stuff)" by Maurice Starr; "Thank You" by Dallas Austin & Boyz II Men; "Mowtownphilly" by Dallas Austin, Michael Bivins, Nathan Morris, & Shawn Stockman; "The Hardest Thing" by Steve Kipner & David Frank; "Pop" by Justin Timberlake & Wade Robson; "Best Song Ever" by Wayne Hector, "John the Blind" Ryan, Ed Drewett, & Julian Bunetta; "Fake Love" by "Hitman" Bang Si-hyuk, Kim "RM" Nam-joon, & Kang "Pdogg" Hyo-won

arranged by: Geoff Castellucci

release date: 14 June 2019

My favorite bits:

easing into things with harmonies of a memorable song from their own youth, then jumping back to the early stuff

Earl at nearly 40 sounding just as good as preteen Michael Jackson on those high vocals

the clever camera wipe transitions that allow them to change outfits and positions to reflect each group

the rhythm section doing some air instrumentation during "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" 🎸🥁

J.None actually not being too proud to ask his bandmates to come back after they jazz-square-slide away

using the whip pan to and from the gossipers to make another costume change

Geoff pushing past Earl, which propels Eli off screen and into the right order for the next dance sequence

the beautiful juxtaposition of the "Single Ladies" choreography done to "Walk Like A Man" 💃🕺

the airy decending sounds Layne makes as they all fall down and the camera spins into the next song

getting back to their barbershop roots for "Candy Girl"

bracketing "Thank You" with the unmistakeable bell chords from "Motownphilly"

Layne doing the quick change "wrong" and yanking off his dickie with dramatic flair as he starts beatboxing again

the whole montage of "Pop"-able items, particularly the intense Bubble Tape™ stand-off, and J.None being showered in bubbles

playing up the dork-itude of the One Direction dance moves

that chromatic descent transitioning into the final song

the delightful floof of Geoff's hair as he rebounds the cascading movement back down the line

that lush ending, complete with Eli's fantastic riff

Trivia:

○ This video was the result of a Patreon poll, and the option the guys least wanted to win, because they knew how much work it would be. But they committed to it like the professionals they are, going all out on the music, costumes, and choreography.

○ The medley is an update / expansion of the previous version they had been performing at live shows for many years. They took the opportunity to swap out some songs in the earlier arrangement for others by the same artists:

Jackson 5 — "ABC" ⇒ "I Want You Back"

Four Seasons — "Sherry" ⇒ "Walk Like a Man"

*NSYNC — "Bye Bye Bye" ⇒ "POP"

One Direction — "What Makes You Beautiful" ⇒ "Best Song Ever"

○ To get the dance moves right, they called in a ringer — choreographer Kristin Denehy from The Sing-Off competition show and live tours, who they'd also worked with on their "Cheerleader" video several years before.

○ The group of gossipers during "Walk Like a Man" is all of VoicePlay's spouses at the time — Nick Perez, Kathy Castellucci, Cyndi Stein, and Ashley Jacobson.

○ The sandwich delivery guy in "Thank You" is the fellas' longtime friend and collaborator Rek Dunn. Given that Boyz II Men are proud Philadelphians, he's probably handing over a cheesesteak.

○ Eli sings some of the Korean lyrics in the closing BTS section. Given that he speaks Japanese, he was probably the most likely of the guys to get the pronunciation right. (And judging by the YouTube comments from BTS fans, he did a good job.)

○ When Geoff was rehearsing the choreography at home, he got some personal coaching from Kathy and little William.

○ The guys also had group dance rehearsals at a local studio.

extracted from Geoff's Instagram farewell post for J.None

○ Things got a little out of hand while they were filming the bubble wrap section of the "Pop" montage.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by VoicePlay (@thevoiceplay)

○ They got their act together for the transition to the next song, though.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by VoicePlay (@thevoiceplay)

○ The long day of filming and dancing aggravated Earl's old foot injury, so he spent the next day wearing a brace to help it recover.

○ The streaming audio version is separated into 4 tracks with 3 or 4 songs each, primarily due to licensing restrictions.

○ The 4:2:Five boys had opened for 98 Degrees at Sea World all the way back in September 2001, just a few months after they'd released their first professional EP. When VoicePlay appeared on the fourth season of The Sing-Off in 2013, working with Nick Lachey again was a little bit of a reunion.

[vonabel]

normally for fics, i put all the info (fic tags, title, pairing, summary, word count, ect) above the cut, however, the summary has spoilers for part one of jjk season 2 and the movie jjk 0, and i am anti spoiler. so here is the title and the pairing only so people may prepare themselves lmao. the actual post tags will not have any spoilers!

i can't handle change (gojo satoru/reader, background/implied geto suguru/reader)

tags

canon character death, angst/hurt/very little comfort, sad ending, Gojo Satoru is soft on reader, takes place after JJK 0, reader uses she/her pronouns, no smut, can be read platonically or romantically (if u squint), oneshot, short fic

summary

Six months and four days after Geto left, you did too. Nearly a decade after leaving the world of Jujustu Sorcery, Gojo pays you a visit. He brings bad news with him.

2.1k words | complete

ao3

When Geto Suguru left everything was different.

Gojo stopped coming around completely, which honestly didn't make much of a difference. After he'd gotten stronger (which, at the time, had seemed like an impossible feat) and started going on solo missions, he was hardly around anyways. But even when he'd been busy, after missions he'd come to find you and Shoko and Geto. And after Geto left, he'd still find you and Shoko. Sometimes, more often than not, it was just you he needed, slipping quietly through your door to press his tear stained face into your back. Eventually, inevitably , his visits came to an end. You saw him in passing, sure, in the hallways or out in the courtyard. Sometimes you caught him in the gym, tossing a basketball around, (and you could almost see the shadow of another boy, one with long hair and a pretty smile, always gone in a blink) but you knew he didn't want you around anymore, so you'd stay to watch and let yourself linger for just a second before turning to wander back to your dorm room.

Shoko made for good company, always offering you a smoke and a laugh. With Geto gone they started sending you both on missions again, typically by yourselves, so you stopped seeing her too. Until, eventually, months passed and you realized you hadn't seen either of them in weeks.

Six months and four days after Geto left, you did too. That fire in your belly, the one that Geto and Gojo had lit, had been snuffed out, replaced with a chill you just couldn't shake. You started sleeping more between missions, smoking too (Suguru's brand of cigarettes, you couldn't stomach any other kind), and even drinking when you could get your hands on some alcohol. And you had another realization.

You didn't want to do this anymore.

Interest in fighting curses washed away with every sip of beer, every exhale of nicotine. So you packed your stuff and left. Shoko caught you just at the entrance, made you promise to keep in touch. You're honestly unsure whether or not Gojo had even been around, unable to find the strength to even try to find him and say goodbye to him too, you'd just left. The idea of staying had been too much, you couldn't handle it anymore, not without them.

Now, nearly a decade later, you don't regret it. You ignore curses you see lingering on the street, clinging to humans, and you make friends with normal people. People who aren't filled with anguish and don't know what it's like to fight death everyday. Sometimes you see a Jujutsu Sorcerer in training, easy to spot in their Jujutsu High get up, a few times it's older ones, people you know. You did keep in touch with Shoko, she's the only one who knows where to find you now, and she drinks her own sorrows away at your bar every other Saturday. During a run in with Nanami you learn that he too had left, but ultimately returned. He tells you that Gojo had taken a boy under his wing all those years ago, just a few after you'd left, and that this boy is different, strong , like Gojo. Noticeably, he does not say much about Suguru. Which is no surprise, you'd left their world, but you weren't out of the loop completely. Sometimes, when Shoko got drunk enough, she let things slip. You knew more than you wanted. And Geto Suguru is a touchy subject in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery.

“What do you do now?” he asks, and you wonder if he genuinely wants to know or if he's just being polite. You answer either way.

“I'm a bartender,” you mutter, turning away from him to avoid blowing smoke in his face.

“A bartender, huh?” he hums for a moment, fixes his tie. “Do you miss it?”

That makes you pause, face twisting as you press your cigarette to your lips. Do you miss it? You hadn't really thought about it. Just because you don't regret your choice doesn't mean you don't miss it, you think. And then, yeah. Yes, you do miss it sometimes. And you miss Shoko, despite still seeing her, and Gojo too. Suguru, even if he is some kool-aid pushing maniac now, still has a space in your heart carved to fit him perfectly. And you will miss him forever, you think. Your face must answer the question for you, because Nanami huffs a sigh. He shifts and tilts his head back, offering another heavy breath to the sky.

“He talks about you sometimes. He's been looking for you,” he mutters. And then he's straightening, fixing his goggles and turning fully to face you. “I've got to get going, I'm leaning into overtime territory now. It was nice to see you.”

“Yeah, you too,” you murmur and turn to lean against the railing behind you, watching him blend into the sea of people wandering the streets of Tokyo. He eventually disappears from your view completely, and only then do you stomp your cigarette into the asphalt and turn to head home.

You don't regret leaving. But you do regret a lot. You regret not talking to Geto when he was clearly going through a hard time. It had been obvious and he'd even told you. And you had just not been enough for him. Maybe things would be different if you had been.

Blinking away the onset of tears lingering on your lashes, you pause outside your door. It's closed, as it should be. But it's unlocked, and the cursed energy inside of your apartment is alarming, familiar, heartbreakingly so. You know all too well who's waiting for you inside - Nanami had been warning you. A small voice in the back of your head tells you to turn and leave, and you consider it. But against your better judgment, you turn the knob and push in anyways. It's dark in your apartment, and cold. And there's a man sitting on your couch.

A man in all black with white hair and a blindfold covering his eyes.

Satoru Gojo is sitting in your home on your couch, looking awfully comfortable for a man who has broken into your home.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you growl, slapping at the wall to find the light switch. Gojo huffs a quiet laugh, tilting his head back against the plush green cushion of your couch. Your nose wrinkles in distaste, maybe discomfort, when he tilts his head to look at you and you can feel his eyes even through the fabric covering them, “Your blindfold is stupid.”

“‘Hello, Satoru. Sorry I disappeared for the last ten years, hope you're well,’” he pouts at you and then smiles, “I am, thanks so much for asking. And the blindfold is cool .”

“The sunglasses were cooler. And obviously I didn't disappear well enough since you've broken into my apartment,” you grumble, setting your bag down heavily on the kitchen counter. He shrugs and stretches further out on your couch, long legs spread in front of him.

“I've always known where you were,”

“Creep,”

“You like it,” he grins, all teeth and natural charm.

“Nanami said you were looking for me,” you ignore him, turning to pull your fridge open. “I didn't think he meant this.”

“You kept in touch with Nanami, but not me?” he makes a vague noise of hurt, and you make it a point not to turn and look at him, “I'm wounded.”

The fridge is empty, and you knew that before you even opened it. But you needed any reason to not look at the man on your couch. He'd see right through you and you know that. You're falling apart at the seams and, truthfully, you have been for years. If you look at him now you think you'd surely burst. He says your name. Slowly, too slow, you close the fridge and turn to look at him.

“Missed you, you know,” he hums, and then a bit quieter, “Could've said bye.”

“No point in saying bye to someone who was already gone,” you scoff. He groans, lifting a hand to push his blindfold up and off. His hair falls sweetly around his face, framing pretty eyes and long eyelashes that fan out over his cheeks. He is ethereal and he always has been. The lighting in your apartment makes his hair almost iridescent and you have to force your eyes away from him.

“Shoko said you’d say that,” he mutters, running a hand over his face. “I lost my best friend, it wasn't an easy time for me.”

“What, you think you were the only one having a hard time? I was close with him, too. I-” you inhale a shuddering breath, forcing the anger in your gut to lower back to a simmer. Quieter and with a trembling lip, you keep talking, “Geto left. And then you did too. You guys were all I had and when he left it was like a part of you left with him.”

Small. You feel small again - young, fresh-faced and seventeen. It makes your heart sink through your stomach and to the floor. You'd left because you didn't like feeling like this, and now Gojo is here. Intruding and pushing his way back into your new life, the one you had worked so hard for. You dig through your bag for your pack of cigarettes, and Gojo watches the way your lighter illuminates your pretty face, the way you blink, slow and cat-like as you inhale.

You're as pretty as he remembers; he could never forget. You don't look much older now at twenty-seven, but you've matured. Laugh lines pull at your cheeks, proof of a happy life, he thinks. But your undereyes are deep and dark, proof of sleepless nights. And still, you're beautiful. He's always found you breath-takingly beautiful. Suguru always had too.

He should tell you, he knows he should.

“Your hair is different,” he says instead and you snort, leveling him with an unimpressed look.

“Yeah,” smoke curls up and over your head with the motion of your hand. You pull gently at a stray chunk of hair before pushing it back, “I'm not seventeen anymore. Yours is pretty much the same.”

“I'm still seventeen in my head,” Gojo laughs. “I don't take well to change.”

“I've noticed,”

“You don't either from what I remember,” he huffs.

“Yeah well,” you make a vague motion with your hand, “You don't know me anymore, Satoru. I don't know what to tell you. I changed anyways. You should try it.”

“Nah,” he grunts, pushing himself to stand and stretching tall in the middle of your living room. His fingertips kiss at your ceiling and you have half a mind to be embarrassed by your incredibly humble abode. You make out well enough, but you get what you pay for with your apartment. It's cheap and in a bad part of the city and, with a bartender’s salary, the best you can afford.

“Did you need something?” you grunt, pushing yourself to sit on your counter. “Or do you make it a habit to break into people's apartments for fun?”

Gojo stands eerily still for a moment. He may have even stopped breathing, you think, squinting your eyes to see him better in the dim lighting. He turns towards you then and you suck in a breath at his eyes, bright and blue and staring you right in the face. He needs to tell you. You deserve to know.

His mouth opens and when he speaks a part of your heart shatters.

“Suguru is dead,”

The Suguru shaped part of your heart, your soul, crumbles to dust, just like it did the first time he left, and you don't have it in you to clean it up again. You can't do this again.

Gojo shudders when your cursed energy, still strong as ever, pulses through the room. The cigarette between your fingers drops to your tiled kitchen floor. You blink and Gojo is there, jaw tight and foot outstretched to put the smoking cigarette out before your apartment building catches on fire. Unthinking, you reach a hand out to grasp at him and he lets you.

He doesn't wince when your hand tightens against his wrist. You grip him tight enough in your left hand that your nails dig into his skin through his sleeve. Your right hand is pressed to your chest, twisting the fabric of your shirt over your heart. Heavy breaths become gagging sobs and you turn to wretch into your sink. Those seams you'd spent years holding together finally burst.

When Geto Suguru left everything was different.

When Geto Suguru died, a part of you and Gojo Satoru did too.

[mymegrokosmos]

best friends to lovers sangyeon part 2

it was later than you would have liked when you finally locked your computer and pushed back from your desk. You had at least avoided the dreaded screen-induced headache and managed to dodge running into any colleagues as you packed up to leave. The office always felt so quiet in the evenings. it was so peaceful you would have been tempted to stay and work late again just to enjoy the silence if sangyeon wasn't waiting for you.

You could make excuses but he'd just raise one eyebrow and you'd fold and tell him the truth anyway. He was kind of persuasive like that. And he hated waiting. He was kind of scary when he got angry. Scary wasn't the only word for what you felt when he turned that gaze on you but the heat that pooled in your gut when he did a lot of things was something best forgotten about. Especially if you were going to have to sit down across the table from your best friend tonight and tell him those feelings you had for him nearly a decade ago now have never faded.

He hadn't reciprocated then and you certainly doubted that he would now either.

It's fairly empty when you arrive to the shop, sneaking in the back door just as Jacob and Hyunjae are leaving. They throw you a wink and hugs on your way past, and some of the menial stress of your day melts away at the friendly faces.

You find Sangyeon in his office, his usual hiding spot at this time of day if he isn't fiddling with something in the back or discussing inventory with Kevin. The pile of paperwork on his desk only seems to have grown and you laugh when he makes sad help me eyes your way.

You grab his bag. "Okay, laptop and paperwork please. We can sit down and work through it at yours while we wait for the takeaway."

That does the trick. He's up and moving before you have a chance to take back your offer of help. Not without a look that says he hasn't forgotten the talk you need to have though.

It's hard not to get lost in your own thoughts on the drive back to his place. It's rare that sangyeon doesn't offer to drive but tonight you're thankful, despite usually being a little glad not to have to, because it means you can focus on something other than the way he rests a hand on your thigh or the back of your seat with the other firmly on the wheel. he fiddles with the radio and it gives you time to think about whether any of this is a good idea.

probably it isn't but your friendship has weathered worse storms than these. no matter how tonight goes you believe that in the end you'll come out just fine. it might get a bit awkward in the middle though.

you set up the files in his living room, propping sangyeon's laptop on the coffee table while he orders for both of you. after this many years he doesn't even need to remember your usual, his phone does it for him by suggesting past dishes and recording previous orders. by the time you get through scanning his excel document he's already grabbing his keys and heading down to bring up the delivery.

you save your progress and clear space for you both, going to get cutlery and drinks. it's easy to sink back into casual conversation about your days and catching up on all the menial stuff you've missed lately. you update him on how things at the office have been and any new gossip. he tells you the latest about the boys at the shop and vents about customers they've had this week. it's all very normal and you think maybe he'll even let the original reason for this dinner go until he doesn't.

he leans forward, eyes locked on yours, and points his chopsticks at you. "okay, we've stalled and delayed this conversation long enough. time to spill. what's the real reason you keep refusing to move in here?"

you sigh, folding your legs up underneath you. "pretty sure all the front desk regulars already think I live here."

your attempt to break the tension falls flat. sangyeon just stares at you as he eats and you flop back againt the soft couch, sinking into the cushions as you close your eyes.

"do you remember how I used to have this massive crush on you?"

"yes, I thought you got over that. wasn't that what your last three relationships were about?"

you blinked at him, pointing your chopsticks right back at your best friend. "okay, first of all, foul. second, maybe a little bit. unfortunately none of them worked so I can't move in with you because then I'm really never getting over the silly little feelings I can't seem to get rid of and I don't want to make things weird between us again."

he considered this. "what if that wasn't a problem?"

you narrowed your eyes at him. "lee sangyeon, you're going to have to be a little more specific."

"It doesn't bother me, so why is it a problem if you like me? we still manage to be friends just fine now. what does it really change?"

"well, besides reminding me every day of all the boundaries I need to be cognizant of and all the things I wish I could have with you that we never will... it just makes it hard to be your friend. I'll have to wake up and be domestic and act like I don't feel or think things every time you do something without having space or being able to walk away and collect myself."

he blinks and gestures for you to continue.

"I don't want it to make me resent you because we both know you can’t reciprocate and it's not fair on either of us to let my feelings get tangled around this. to spend so much time together and share chores, to be so close all the time and know there's always going to be this weird distance between us that I need to put there to stay sane. I don't really know how else to explain."

he nods. "okay, and what if you didn't have to?"

you blinked. "elaborate."

"you keep saying that you have to hold back feelings. you're assuming it's all one sided."

"isn't it?" you frowned. "yeonie we talked about this before and you said you didn't have any romantic feelings for me."

"that was a long time ago y/n. things change." he shrugged. "would it change things for you if you didn't have to pretend there wasn't something more than friendship between us?"

you weighted your answer. "yes. yes it would change everything."

"so, would you say yes to moving in here if I said we could explore more?"

you considered it. this was a lot of new information.

you nodded. "I'd think about it but we'd need to set some guidelines. Take it slow. I'd need to know this, whatever we're doing, is exclusive and where you stand on the feelings department."

sangyeon set his plate on the table, reaching over to take your hand in one of his. "okay, then we'll sit down and talk about it. tomorrow?"

you squeezed his hand. it was warm and the naked vulnerability in his gaze seemed sincere.

"yeah, tomorrow. that sounds good to me."

he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand, unfolding to grab your dishes and take them all to the kitchen.

"you still okay to help me through these accounts tonight? You can stay over, or if that's too fast I'll drive you back to Hoon's after."

"mmm, yeah that's still okay. If you don't mind, I'll probably stay. we're both going to be tired and I don't want to put you out to take me all the way across town at late o'clock tonight."

"fine with me. you know you're always welcome here."

you met his gaze where he looked over his shoulder at you from where he stood at the sink rinsing your plates.

"I know yeon, I know."

the small smile that mirrored yours was worth the confusion you were going to have to work through about where both of you stood in the morning.