#Anyway this is not organized bc it's just my thoughts thrown into a post. I don't want to convince anyone of anything. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fonulyn · 4 years ago

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fonulyn’s 2020 in fics

this is kind of exciting since in 2020 I did get a lot writing done, and it marks the second year in a row that I’m able to actually make one of these posts after that horrible not good at all terrible disastrous three and a half years when I wrote absolutely nothing. so it’s a triumph to get another one of these up! personal victory haha.

in total, in 2020 I wrote 148 fics, ranging from like 200 words to 34k (idk if those short things can be called fics but i just did). by pairing, there’s

13 of Joe/Nicky

58 of Piers/Leon

56 of Chris/Leon

(1 with Piers/Leon and Chris/Leon)

5 of the ot3 (Chris/Leon/Piers)

11 of Krauser/Leon

3 of Wesker/Chris (lmao still can’t believe this)

1 of Chris/Leon/Krauser

so. in retrospect, i did okay.

it’s over 300 thousand words and I am kind of. surprised. and that is not counting the approximately 50k of wips i’m ignoring :’D

I’d also like to take a second to thank everyone who has ever sent me nice messages, commented on the fics, left reblogs or kudos, and the like. you’re what kept me going, I wouldn’t have gotten even half as much done otherwise.

without further ado, links to all of the fics under the cut! they’re organized by pairing, and the links take you to tumblr posts (bc I’m lazy) and a lot of them have a link in the post that takes you to ao3. (also can you see I put ~~so much~~ effort into naming the tumblr ficlets :’D feel free to laugh at me)

Joe/Nicky

a dog by any other name | 1,5k | The one wherein they end up owning a dog.

within the heart a flame of desires | 5,0k | Nicolo watches Yusuf have sex with others, desperately wishing he was with him instead. Until things change. He much prefers having Yusuf all for himself.

the world will wait | 2,4k | The one wherein Joe takes a lot of naps and the whole team gets to relax.

catch this | 650w | Every time Joe gets distracted (by Nicky), Andy tries to take him by surprise.

nobody’s perfect | 1,9k | Even immortal warriors have their weaknesses, Nile learns. Those just aren’t what she expected.

only in these arms | 780w | Nicky has trouble sleeping alone. Andy is a decent substitute, but only when Joe returns so does Nicky’s ability to get a decent night’s rest.

(please don’t explain) that time in Malta | 580w | Nile doesn’t think at first it would even be possible for Joe to be embarrassed. By anything. Until one evening, they talk about Malta.

cool it down boys | 400w | Andy gets no sleep. She gets revenge, though.

cowboy, baby | 340w | Nicky has the fashion sense of a sack of flour, and he is fine with that.

that day is not today | 4,9k | They struggle through the whole lab-experience. It isn’t the time yet to forgive Booker.

tea, soup and tlc | 2k | The one wherein Joe is not sick. At all. Nope. He isn't.

two drinks too many | 770w | Nicky is a little drunk. Joe loves him anyway.

safe haven | 3,9k | The one wherein everyone gets quality cuddles from Joe.

Piers/Leon

it was you that I found | 23,4k | Leon doesn’t really do relationships. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he always seems to be so bad at them. Of course entirely by accident he manages to build one without even realizing it.

unexpected visitor | 690w | Piers is forced on bed-rest. At least Leon stops by.

got me all tied up (never let me go) | 4,0k | Piers doesn’t like suits. Leon loves Piers in a suit.

not so subtle | 210w | “Soo, were you checking me out all night, or was that just my imagination?” Leon asks suddenly, Piers chokes on his drink in surprise.

nighttime fools | 4,8k | Piers and Leon get arrested for public indecency. It’s not their fault, honest.

piers isn’t sick, really, he isn’t (he is) | 670w | “Oh, hi,” Piers said immediately, a goofy smile slipping onto his face. Man, he was happy to see Leon. So happy to see him.

so you’ve met Xena | 620w | “Xena?” Leon turned to look at Piers, decidedly unimpressed. “You named your dog after the Warrior Princess?“

you’re cute, you know | 680w | Piers took the opportunity the second their gazes met. He grinned, as charmingly as he possibly managed, and said “You’re cute, you know that?“

kiss the nightmares away | 470w | Sleepily Piers blinked, trying to make his eyes work properly. He squinted at the digital clock on the bedside, and its harsh red numbers that told him it was 3:30, and confusedly he turned to frown at Leon. “Why aren’t you sleeping?“

smooth talking, Nivans, very smooth | 1,4k | Piers can not control what comes out of his mouth.

dream a little (dirty) dream of me | 1,3k | Piers wakes Leon up. That's it.

your shirt is my shirt | 950w | With a sigh Piers grabbed the only shirt available that wasn’t battery operated and obnoxious. It was Leon’s, so old that the print had faded completely, leaving only faint outlines behind. And when Piers pulled it on he grumbled again, realizing how tight it was.

here for you | 620w | Leon can’t sleep, but somehow Piers makes his anxieties bleed away.

grand plans | 260w | “Are you seriously going to wear that?”

new puppy | 430w | “Hey there little guy.” Leon bent down to pick up the little puppy, straightening again to hold it against his chest. His hands looked almost comically large as the dog was so tiny, and carefully he cradled it close.

a little bit funny | 850w | So maybe Piers hadn’t slept properly in days, and the sleep deprivation was making him a little hysterical, but he didn’t even remember when a stupid comedy would’ve made him laugh so much.

for now our time is here | 4,4k | When Chris had told them to wait up and left them alone for a while, this probably wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but the second he’d closed the door behind himself the tension that had been brewing between Leon and Piers had snapped like a cord.

wanting too much | 1,1k | “Fucking hell, never do that to me again,“ Leon huffed out, clearly relieved beyond anything.

the prettiest agent with the prettiest hair | 1,2k | Piers stress-braids. Leon doesn't mind. And besides, Piers always undoes the braids whenever he's done with them. Until one night he forgets.

you can be the air that i breathe | 1,0k | It wasn’t the first time Piers got punched in the face by a gigantic BOW so hard that the hit sent him flying. It was, however, the first time he was sent careening off a bridge and into the river below. And it was, definitely, the first time Leon saved his life.

before I found you | 890w | The second Piers realized that the spikes covering the monster actually came off, and it was able to shoot them towards its attackers, it was already too late for him to react.

you don’t need to stay | 950w | Piers did his best to take care of Leon. And as much as Leon appreciated it, he didn’t want to be a goddamn nuisance.

need me, baby, just a little stronger tonight | 2,1k | Leon really has to practice perfecting his poker face. At least he gets what he wants in the end.

be my valentine | 920w | “Are you sure?“ Piers asked for the tenth time, frowning down at the bar of Fazer blue chocolate. “I still think it’s… not a lot?”

you're the world that I wanna discover | 7,5k | The one wherein they buy a house, fall even more in love, and Leon reaches a breaking point.

call me (tell me what you feel) | 1,7k | Leon is stuck at the airport. At least he gets a nice phone call with Piers.

incentive to stay alive | 1,0k | "Hey, Nivans, wake up,” he tried, but there was no answer, and he couldn’t help but let the worry in his voice. “Piers. Don’t you dare die on me. Chris would kill me if I let anything happen to his best sniper.”

blanket hog Leon | 880w | Grumbling, Piers turned around, and as he’d expected Leon was cozily wrapped in at least four blankets, leaving nothing for Piers, who was currently freezing his ass off.

I give you all I am | 2,0k | “Leon?” Piers approached in quick steps, watching recognition flicker in Leon’s eyes as he lowered his own weapon too. Leon was slumped against the wall, hunched over and holding his side, and there was something feverish about his eyes. Yet as soon as he realized it was Piers he gave a shaky grin, even if that was all he managed.

why are the gorgeous ones always taken | 810w | Piers blinked his eyes open slowly, expression scrunched up, and it took a long moment before he managed to actually focus his gaze on Leon’s face. When he did, a smile immediately bloomed on his face, and he even tilted his head a little. “Have I died and gone to heaven?” he croaked out, his voice rough from lack of use.

still intact | 1,1k | It took a week before the level of painkillers was correct and Piers woke up with a gasp instead of a scream. And the first thing he asked was for someone to kill him.

of guns and ...guns | 270w | Leon likes the way Piers handles his rifle. There’s drool involved.

always fashionable | 540w | Apparently having a crush on the well-dressed, professional Leon translated into being absolutely fucking in love with the sleep-mussed and squinty Leon.

misplaced phones and revelations | 660w | Chris finds Piers’ phone. Which turns out to be Leon’s phone. The two turn out to be dating. Chris feels kind of blind.

yee-haw! | 1,0k | Leon rides Piers. Wearing a cowboy hat.

you’re cute when you’re angry | 620w | When he’s stressed, Piers washes the dishes. Angrily.

want to drink (with) you | 1,1k | Piers is an embarrassing drunk. Leon loves him anyway.

and each one of us is a path somewhere | 22,2k | Piers gets thrown twenty years back in time. Into Raccoon City, 1998. He’d heard about what Leon went through that night, but he never thought he’d have to actually experience it himself. Together with bright eyed rookie Leon.

hold me close | 560w | Leon falls asleep against Piers’ shoulder.

goatee man | 890w | Piers thinks growing a beard might make him look more manly.

promises kept | 2,9k | Leon finds out Piers isn't dead after all. He's just locked up in a BSAA research facility with no one allowed in to visit.

stay with me tonight (stay until the end of life) | 2,2k | Leon doesn’t know I’m contacting you, but a fair warning, because I’m worried. He was found unconscious on the bathroom floor at 10AM. They took him to the hospital, but he checked himself out. Look after him, okay?

4am | 760w | “What can I say,” Piers grinned against Leon’s neck, “I was dreaming of you.” He had no reservations about moving his hips, letting Leon feel just how nice the dream had been.

caffeinated | 550w | Someone gives Piers coffee. Leon knows what to do with that excess energy.

and i'm you and you're me | 7,0k | The one wherein Leon and Piers accidentally swap bodies.

girls’ day in bed | 780w | Piers and Leon wake up one morning with boobs and other assorted lady parts. It’s a fun day. (Spoiler alert: they have a lot of sex.)

worlds apart | 3,2k | Krauser kidnaps Piers to lure Leon to him. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

not again | 530w | Watching Piers’ mutation brings Leon some very unfortunate flashbacks. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

gorgeous | 300w | Piers calls Leon gorgeous.

the most comfortable pillow | 350w | Leon falls asleep with his head on Piers’ lap.

beautiful | 840w | Even after losing an arm and ruining half of his face, Piers is the most beautiful thing to Leon.

as seen in adult films | 580w | Piers doesn’t know one damn thing about dishwashers. He volunteers to fix one anyway.

never letting go | 260w | Leon is goddamn comfortable right here. He isn’t going to move a single inch.

nose kisses | 390w | Piers is cute when he’s cranky. Just ask Leon.

no other half could ever make me whole | 6,3k | The one wherein they get a scare and there's a proposal.

the luxury of being held | 690w | The fabric of Piers’ hoodie is the perfect place to hide. (feat. Theo’s amazing art)

just one step from heaven, one step from paradise | 2,7k | The one wherein Piers makes sure Leon doesn’t freeze, and they enjoy their vacation.

all is fair in war, love and Mario Kart | 600w | Piers sucks at Mario Kart.

Chris/Leon

if i never see all my dreams come true, the one that mattered the most was you | 5,9k | Chris enlists Leon’s help on a mission as a clever ruse to make the man take a break he so obviously needs.

and I don't want to know how slow the time must flow | 11,1k | Chris and Leon try to fight their way out of a castle and feelings take over.

you are my heart, you are my home | 3,2k | Chris is sick, and he’s being extra dramatic about it.

from the gates of longing | 5,5k | Chris volunteers to take Leon home, but ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

how to accidentally get adopted - a guide by Piers Nivans | 2,3k | Piers accidentally keeps calling Chris dad, and Chris and Leon sort of unofficially adopt him.

right here by your side | 1,9k | When Chris shows up to check up on Leon, four days into his self-imposed flu-exile, at first Leon wants to just throw him out. But then it turns into a relationship-building moment and suddenly he can’t mind all that much.

about time | 1,8k | Leon is freezing. Chris warms him up.

yet you'll lose yourself in me | 3,3k | The one wherein Chris is generously proportioned and Leon kind of loves it. (whispers: size kink)

beyond tomorrow | 1,7k | Leon ends up in the hospital after a mission, Chris hurries to see if he’s okay. Claire is already there.

look at those heart-eyes | 180w | Quickly Chris shook his head, reluctantly pulling his attention away from Leon.

there’s a cat in the sink | 220w | “There’s a cat in the sink, and we don’t own a cat.”

from the future | 300w | It’s 1998 and Leon comes face to face with himself, from 2017.

surprise redfield | 250w | “Don’t worry,“ Chris says, nonchalantly as if it’s an everyday occurrence that he’s standing in Leon’s kitchen.

need this feeling to last (there's no denying) | 2,4k | “Why don’t you fuck me yourself, you coward!“

something solid, something good | 520w | Chris was so warm, and that together with all the glorious skin-on-skin contact made Leon happily sink back into the embrace.

come closer | 520w | Leon is done with Chris being so careful around him.

your arms around me | 690w | Chris woke up cold and alone.

a needed break | 440w | Sometimes Chris got so single-mindedly stuck on a task that he forgot everything around himself.

the iron maiden | 820w | Suddenly it was hard to breathe, like he couldn’t fill his lungs with oxygen no matter how much he tried, to the point that his vision started to get blurry.

robin hood: chris in tights | 480w | Chris’ face was twisted into a theatrical grimace as he tugged a little on the green tights we was wearing. They were like painted on and although he didn’t really have body issues in general, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about it.

luckless romance | 4,0k | Leon and Chris turn a drunken argument into something better. (Please note: The link takes you to the last part of six.)

take my hand | 920w | The worst part, by far, is not seeing anything. There are sounds, people talking like he isn’t even in the room, machines beeping and doors opening, quick busy steps against the floor.

let me take you to the edge of the stars and back again | 3,0k | Chris takes his sweet, sweet time before he gives Leon what he wants.

I’m going to seduce you | 1,1k | Jesus Christ, they’d had sex. Leon groaned again, this time less because of the headache and more because he felt so unbearably dumb. He’d probably had the best sex of his life, and he couldn’t remember it.

a little help | 430w | Those fucking idiots, Claire thought for the millionth time, as she watched her brother give the biggest dumbest heart eyes at Leon, who was blissfully oblivious about everything going on around him.

the way to anyone’s heart (the answer is food, good food) | 2,4k | Chris asks Leon to teach him how to cook. (Spoiler: Leon doesn't know how.)

oh the horror | 270w | “I seriously don’t understand why you want to watch this shit,” Leon groaned, pressing his face into Chris’ chest.

jealousy | 670w | Chris swallowed hard, downed the last of his beer, and took the leap. “I’m jealous okay.”

twist me up | 510w | Sure Chris had always known that Leon was flexible. Sure he had seen him even do these weird-ass yoga poses more than once. There was nothing new to it.

meet the parents | 600w | Leon brings Chris home for Christmas.

precious cargo | 930w | Chris lugs Leon around like luggage.

it's always been you | 870w | The hardest thing for Leon was when someone he cared about was in danger but there was nothing he could do about it. And then Chris fell into a ravine.

come away with me (to another world) | 2,0k | Leon finally gets a vacation.

first time sucker | 930w | “I don’t know, because it’s fun?” Leon said. “I promise you, you’re missing out.”

read my scars | 1,9k | Chris learns about Leon's scars.

battered and bruised | 650w | Ignoring the bruises and scrapes he had, Chris turned around and sprinted towards Leon, gritting his teeth against the strain moving put on his side.

a different kind of proposal | 500w | “If you keep fucking me this good,“ he breathed out, unsure if Chris even heard the words, “I’ll have to marry you.“

welcome home | 370w | The door had barely fallen shut behind Chris when Leon was in his personal space, grabbing him by the lapels of the trench coat he was wearing so he could pull him in close for a kiss.

I’d always choose you | 280w | Ada was something they didn’t talk about. When someone, anyone, brought her up Leon clammed up and changed the subject. And Chris had tried to be understanding, had tried to be patient, had tried his very best to respect Leon’s boundaries with this. But Chris was only human.

fuck or die | 1,7k | Chris gets hit by a weird plant, and his hard-on just will not go down. Until Leon takes matters into his hands.

i need a hug | 470w | “I think,“ Leon sighed, but then it was like all fight bled from him and he slumped a little forward. “I need a hug.“

oh no there’s only one bed | 990w | “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just one night. I’m sure you’ve slept with worse persons than me.”

the butt that became a pillow | 420w | Chris falls asleep on Leon.

like father like son | 2,8k | Leon finds out he has a son.

monster magnet | 1,1k | Leon didn’t know when it had become something he recognized so easily. When had it become so normal for mutated creatures to look at him with such unadulterated lust.

please be okay | 620w | Leon faints from sheer exhaustion.

like father like... grandson? | 4,1k | Liam proposes to a girl but ends up with Piers anyway. Chris and Leon are the friendly neighborhood grandpas. Their grandson is adorable, and Leon thinks he takes after him. Obviously. (feat. Piers/OMC)

black lace | 790w | Chris gets to come home to Leon in thigh high black lacy stockings and matching lingerie, instantly sending Chris’ brains into an overdrive.

at least let me help | 790w | Leon opens the door an inch, Chris uses the given opportunity to slam it wide open. Metaphorically speaking.

bridal style | 200w | Leon refuses the medical check up. So Chris carries him.

dance with me | 1,0k | Wedding planning with two schmoopy idiots in love.

drunken cravings | 480w | Chris and Leon are drunk, hungry, and incapable of cooking.

blow me | 650w | Chris gets his brains sucked out through his dick.

Claire knows best | 610w | Chris tries to set Leon up with Claire. Then Claire does set Leon up with Chris.

chase the demons away | 940w | Chris struggles with nightmares, Leon is there to hold him through them.

dance me to the end of love | 550w | Leon struggles to learn to dance.

Piers/Leon, Chris/Leon

fate changed (we keep loving as if the story isn't over yet) | 34,3k | In hindsight, Leon knew the second he opened the door and saw Chris standing there, dressed in his service uniform, mouth pinched to a grim line and unable to meet Leon’s gaze straight. There was only one logical reason for it, only one way to explain why he was standing there like he would rather be anywhere else, and Leon almost slammed the door right in his face. -- Or the one wherein no one really knows how to handle their grief, but somehow life goes on anyway. (I’m still so proud of this one negl)

Chris/Leon/Krauser

hearts beating fast (let's make this moment last) | 5,7k | Chris gets invited in for a threesome. The clever thing would’ve been to refuse, knowing his unrequited, helpless feelings. But then again, he’s just a man.

OT3

double the fun | 3,1k | Truthfully, Leon hadn’t thought his day could get this much better. Everything had gone wrong from the second he’d woken up and he’d already written the day off entirely, until the moment Chris had looked him dead in the eye and asked “How do you feel about two at once?”

of cuddles and blanket forts | 620w | Piers and Leon build a blanket fort. Chris would think they’re idiots, but they might actually be kind of brilliant.

hair straightener or waffle iron? | 310w | Chris and Piers break Leon’s hair straightener.

the last piece of the puzzle | 2,7k | The one wherein two becomes three.

not alone | 2,3k | Completely on accident, Piers and Chris happen to be there to save Leon from a tight spot. Cuddles ensue.

Krauser/Leon

drive me crazy (your eyes made me crave for this) | 2,3k | It was the best sex Krauser had ever had in his life. That’s why he kept coming back to Leon, kept saying ‘yes’ every single time the man as much as hinted that he might be up for meeting. He was getting off, and he was enjoying every second of it, and that was the extent of it. There certainly weren’t any feelings involved. None. None at all.

enjoying the view | 200w | Krauser likes ass-watching.

carry me to bed | 440w | Slowly Leon was coming back to his senses. Sweat was cooling on his skin, the hard surface of the table underneath him starting to feel uncomfortable.

and I lied that we would be fine | 1,1k | Leon knows he isn’t supposed to be doing this. There’s a vague recollection of something more important, something he should be focusing on, but the vast majority of his world has narrowed down onto the slick slide of their bodies, on the cheap scratchy sheets on his skin, on the sound of Krauser’s voice in his ear, and he can’t bring himself to care.

yet never enough | 1,9k | Krauser likes mirrors.

of wanting | 400w | Leon’s laughter echoed in the room as Krauser pinned him against the wall, before shutting him up with a ravenous kiss.

better with you | 590w | Despite knowing Krauser had his back, Leon was genuinely surprised when the man sat down right next to him instead of telling him to suck it up and get moving.

breakfast | 530w | Lately things had slowly begun to shift. And Leon wasn’t sure yet what was going on. Or how he felt about it.

kill me now | 900w | It was more than clear how much Krauser enjoyed their frantic attempts to kill one another, and Leon’s traitorous body shivered in response, the memory of times long gone returning like no time had passed at all.

lust that I've already spilled | 1,4k | “C’mon, Leon,” Krauser taunted, grinning as widened his stance. “This cock isn’t gonna suck itself.”

will you just look at me | 650w | Krauser refuses to do feelings.

Wesker/Chris

I am the light that shall lead you to darkness | 1,8k | In all honesty, Chris wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up here: a panting mess, bent over a massive wooden table with Wesker holding him down laughably easily.

the light to drown in darkness | 2,0k | Wesker craves Chris. So Wesker takes Chris.

love-hate-(obsession?) | 470w | Wesker is a lovesick fool. If he wasn’t also a homicidal maniac, Jill would almost feel sorry for him.

#the old guard #resident evil #kaysanova #chreon #metaltango #nivannedy #chrisker #kreon #idk what i'm forgetting it's 2 am and i've spent seven hours on this #have pity on me :'D #my fics #2020 #this was so much work #i am praying for the links to work properly #so i don't need to touch this again nnhhh

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xiu21chen99 · 5 years ago

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hxh headcanon!!

/imagine ofc!! everyone expected another, i hope shhdjdkf

umm... my art?? I'll be transferring it to digi-art tomorrow or sth but uh be nice pls, im new to dis

the art is related to the hc,,, anYWAYS DARK CONTINENT ARC TIMELINE and... TW! blood, violence and death. this is what i envision the "battle for hisokas head" arc story thingey would go

ON THE BLACK WHALE!

Hisoka has killed most of the spiders already, all that was left were Illumi, Kalluto, Chrollo, Shizuku and Bonolenov (bc the latter three formed a group truce rmmbr)

he decides to save the Zoldycks for last so he hunts for the mf who mangled his face and literally killed him

Hisoka makes quick work of killing Bono and Shizuku (nooo my bby ;-;)

Chrollo and he have a sort of stalemate stance bc they're in a discrete room in the Black Whale, they're meters apart and they're literally just walking in a circle to see who'd make the first move

Bono and Shizuku's bodies are in the same room

Illumi comes in with Kalluto in tow and the two siblings stop dead in their tracks to watch

that's when Hisoka moves in for the kill

but Chrollo counters w a spell he pulled from his book- an explosion erupts, tho it's a small, kind of controlled one but still, everyone in the room are forced back

Hisoka's thrown to a wall while the other three skid back on the feet

the emergency alarms ring in the room, the automated doors move to close

Illumi and Kalluto make eye contact before Kalluto runs for it, Illumi goes to block the door when he left, making sure Chrollo doesn't follow suit before walking towards Hisoka

"what are you doing?" Chrollo asks when Illumi helps the clown to his feet.

"oh, did i not tell you?" Illumi pulls out a few needles from his outfit "Hisoka has also commissioned for your head, but only under the circumstance where he could see."

"no, you forgot to mention that." Chrollo humors, book in hand and a forced smile on his lips

"oh this should be fun," Hisoka adds beside him, cracking his neck with a sinister grin

"i take it you were serious about the... engagement ring you mentioned earlier?" Chrollo asks as he flips to a page in his book

"quite, yes. i have already told my brother to not contact our parents about it, hence why he was with me up until now." Illumi explains, pins glowing with violet nen

"how boring, i had hoped you'd at least introduce me to my in-laws before we get on with it." Hisoka teases, cards in hand

"disgusting." Chrollo sneers, and the tension in the room snaps.

There's another explosion, quite bigger and definitely stronger. Illumi blocks the stray debris from his eyes with a hand, squinted eyes taking in everything that was to see.

Hisoka was still beside him though his head was snapping from left to right trying to navigate their common target

There's whispering, then Chrollo's puppets appear behind them, seeming to have grown from the concrete ground

they were mindless pawns, Hisoka gladly kicked them all til they returned to dust

what came next were Bono and Shizuku, though Illumi could have sworn they were dead earlier

"it's a stolen power, they might still be able to use their nen." Hisoka warns, and as if to prove his point Shizuku attacks Illumi with Blinky

"cut off their heads!" Hisoka yells, disappearing into the still present dust cloud of the post-explosion

Shizuku was the easier target, death made her think that vacuum of hers was a sword. Illumi pins her to the wall and snaps her head off

Bono was more clever, he hid in the dust and used his whistle like body to distract Illumi from where he actually was

Then he attacks when he had his back turned to him

But Illumi soon gets the hang of it, whips back to his right to catch Bono mid jump, and crushes his neck like paper

He drops the twice killed body and wipes his hands on his pants

There's strong aura somewhere in the room, so he follows his instincts through the smog

Another explosion, but this time actual smoke builds up in the room, triggering the fire alarms and the sprinklers

"you fucking bitch!"

"you should have stayed dead, Hisoka!"

Illumi follows the voices and now obvious sounds of fighting

as the smoke clears, he sees multiple figures go after who he assumes was Hisoka. Logically speaking, he was the only target of those useless puppets

Illumi jumps to his feet to help him, throwing pins at the three running to Hisoka at stumbling speed

He lands behind Hisoka with grace, feet as silent as ever.

the smoke is nearly gone now, so when Illumi turns to see if Hisoka was alright he's shocked to find a rock figurine, roughly formed to Hisoka's shape and build

"Hisoka-"

"i can't believe you fell for that" Chrollo says behind him, but Illumi has already sent needles flying his way

"what did you do?"

unprepared, Chrollo's sent to the wall, hands pinned and spread. there were matching pins buried deep into the palms of his hands making him unable to move

"I just killed the bastard who shouldn't have come for my friends."

his hands needed to touch something to detonate. with two more pins each added to his hands (and two more to each of his feet), Chrollo's made to float with Illumi's Manipulation

(hc power here bc i think he could do this, but he only saves it for special occasions or enemies lol)

Illumi pulls forth a mind control needle amd jams it into Chrollo’s forehead, “answer my questions, and answer me truthfully"

"what did you do to Hisoka, you could not have killed him in that short amount of time. I should have been able to sense something if you did. he is not in this room, so where is he?"

Chrollo groans, "he's trapped in the room i laid out for him"

"explain."

"i stole some random passenger's teleportation ability. its' condition is to only be able to open a portal if the room's closed and only has one door. i opened the portal and left him in the in between."

"you have been planning this, correct?"

"i only came up with it when Shizuku encountered the man with this power. he's still alive of course, but if i kill him then his nen portals would cease, and Hisoka will be trapped in that limbo forever."

"and nen after death..?"

"he adores the spiders, he surely won't hold a grudge if i killed him for this."

"this is a well executed plan." Illumi complements despite the situation

"thanks."

"open the portal, bring him back."

"why should i?"

Illumi grabs another pin from his shirt, this time giving it a lick before jamming it into Chrollo's arm

"i am already annoyed at how everything has turned out, just pull Hisoka out of the portal."

life slowly drains from Chrollo's eyes, as he goes limp against Illumi's pins that kept him afloat and away from any possible detonation medium

Chrollo-puppet, now on his own two feet, pulls out his book and flips to a page. The wall behind him opens, the metal folding out as if crumpled then Hisoka walks out, in shock. The wall closes silently, as if it never opened to begin with

Hisoka snaps out of it quickly, lips curving into a pleased smile, "nice work, Illu!"

Illumi waves a hand dismissively. "would you like to do the honors?"

"ooh~ don't mind if i do," Hisoka pulls out a card from somewhere and approaches the still Chrollo.

Illumi walks to a wall to lean against it, knowing Hisoka would take his time.

"you've married an idiot, Illumi Zoldyck." a voice said beside him, and he snaps his head up to see Hisoka's killing slash

"wait-"

But it was too late

another explosion, this time strong enough to blow the doors open and the walls broken

Illumi's once again pushed to the wall, back through the metal it poked him with blisters

As the dust settled for a third time, Chrollo stood in the middle of the room, unharmed and unpinned.

Under his foot, Hisoka. Dead?

"no-" Illumi coughs, dust filling his lungs

Illumi stumbles to the pair as Chrollo backs away, to the door now open

"Hisoka-" he falls to his knees beside the man, cradles the head to his lap. This was real, this was really Hisoka. he felt it- he felt the last ebbs of his presence fade along with the explosion.

He was really dead...

Was his Bungee Gum/after death nen a one time thing?

He was so stupid, he should have noticed that Chrollo was a fake. It had been too easy. Fuck.

Hisoka coughs, and Illumi zeroes in on it, on the way his once steady chest heaves with labored breaths. "Hiso- Hisoka?"

"Illu..." he drawls, unable to say it clearly

"what do i do?"

"ta... take m-" he coughs again, "take my heart, Illu."

"what do you mean?" Illumi presses a hand to the side of Hisoka's neck, trying to find a pulse

"this is my nen condition-" heave- "Bungee gum will help me get the engagement ring to you. it's in my heart, literally-"

"Hisoka, you are not making any sense-"

"just kill me already, illu-" cough- "and carve out my heart. you'll find the ring there."

"o-oh" Illumi's eyes widen

"do it, illu. before my-" heave again "nen runs out."

Hisoka's smiling. his glamour of texture surprise has worn off already, so his nose-less, peeling face stared back at Illumi

"go on, love."

with no other choice, Illumi elongates his nails and digs into the crevice between Hisoka's rib cage. his blood felt hot and sticky between his fingers, but Illumi dug deeper.

his heart was still beating though weakly, as if it still had a chance to live on

"bye, love." were Hisoka's last breathy words as Illumi pulls the organ out. It was shrouded in pink nen, Bungee Gum he thought, its distinct tint a permanent brand in Illumi's mind

gore slid down his hand, as illumi held it closer to his face for inspection

for a few fleeting moments it continued throbbing, but now it's stilled to a mere heart.

Illumi has done this method of killing before, but this is the first heart he thought held value

blood dripped from his hand down to Hisoka's smiling face, eyes open and gaze somewhere to Illumi's direction

as the Bungee Gum lifted, a ring popped out from an outward ventricle.

a bloody ring

how did he manage to do this?

despite the crimson, Illumi slips it to his ring finger with a grim smile

even after death, Hisoka still amazed him

He gently puts Hisoka's head to the ground, off his lap, and closes his golden eyes

Illumi's en grows with unbridled rage that it covered the whole ship. Chrollo is just a few hallways down

Bloodlust up in new heights, Illumi lets his presence explode, making sure nen and non nen users alike felt his hunger to kill

Finding Chrollo was too easy, but this time he's sure it was the real one. he was at the balcony, looking out into the sunset.

"i take it, you loved him?"

Illumi doesn't answer, instead walks closer with eery silence

"if you loved him then why didn't you tell him?"

one step forward, two, three. just a few more left.

"he wouldn't have reciprocated? blah, he was of peculiar taste, I'm sure he would've accepted you."

pins, needles, hell even a card he got from Hisoka. he threw all of it to Chrollo, aiming for where he was and the surrounding spots he could have gone to, to avoid them

pinned down and bleeding, Chrollo continues "or were you not aware you loved him until you saw him die right before your eyes?"

Illumi, more than once, said that assassins don't need friends. didn't have a need for anyone else but family.

but

"he was my friend. that's all there was to it."

Chrollo's head rolls to the balcony, falls off and to the sea. a king of hearts was placed where the head should be, engraved into the floor.

later that day, Illumi went back to the room where Hisoka was, to find Kalluto there. His kimono was bunched up by his hands to make sure blood didn't touch the ends.

"aniki, what happened here? where's danchou?"

"kallu, i want you to help me with something." Illumi said instead, "can you help me clean him up?"

"should we throw him overboard?" Kalluto gestured to Hisoka.

"no, i want to fix him up and find a coffin in this ship. i will bury him when we get back to the mainland."

"why?"

"because..." Illumi fiddled with the bloodied ring, "he was my husband."

for those of u confused don't worry, i am too. basically chrollo used a bomb dummy of himself and that’s the one hisoka killed but uh got him killed instead. shjsjfkf sorry if this was shitty it's 2:30am nd i just wanted to write this before i forgot. I'll fix it tomorrow hopefully

also the hc is the ring in hisokas heart thingey and maybe the room trap plan bc togashi wouldnt have introduced that bitch if he didnt plan on using him for the plot shjsjdkfkgl good night!

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unaccomplishedwriter · 4 years ago

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THE HERO YOU NEED

. Chapter Two .

- Chapter One here -

if there were ever anyone close to being the personification of perfection, it would be Cedric Diggory.

The older boy was a hit with the first-years, and everyone else actually. He was kind and informative, making sure the younger ones were made to feel welcome and comforted. You watched with interest as he animatedly explained how the Hogwarts staircases worked to the crowd of students behind him, fiddling with your wand as always. Following behind slowly, your mind began to wander as you blocked out the noises surrounding you.

Hufflepuff was a choice you’d made after careful deliberation; their house values most matched what you wanted yourself to achieve as a wizard. You were no stranger to the history of Beauvais wands; their propensity for dark magic contributed to much of the doubt surrounding Seraphina Picquery in her earlier days. But she made her place, as will you yours. Your dream was to become a living counter to dark magic; someone who could strengthen all aspects of magic through extensive study of its usages, dark magic included. Your wand was powerful, and held exactly the kind of power you needed if you were to be able to research your goals as extensively as possible. Magical application was one thing, but learning how magic affected the body as thoroughly as possible would prove to be an invaluable asset to the fundamental understanding of magical power to begin with. Hufflepuffs were similar to Pukwudgies in that sense; their members were often curious and good-natured, usually going on to have careers that were based in care.

After the incident as a child, you wanted nothing more but for others to never have to go through such a thing again, even if you had to study the usage of the very dark magic you were so afraid of.

A sudden emptiness beneath you snapped you out of your thoughts, your body suddenly being jerked back and into open arms.

“Are you okay?”

Frantically panted the lips near your ear. Your heart was pounding, and all thoughts in your head flew out the window. What on earth happened? Why...

“You nearly got yourself killed! Were you listening at all?” that same voice scolded. You finally snapped out of your thoughts, turning your head only to meet with someone’s chest. Your nose met with a soft, warm and good heavens, he smells like caramel -- neck before trailing upwards, coming face to face with one very flustered Cedric Diggory. Desperately piecing your scattered brain together, you realized that you two were standing just a foot back from where a staircase had previously been; now just an empty abyss that you’d nearly walked right into.

“I’m so sorry!” you stuttered.

“My mind was elsewhere.”

“And was elsewhere worth nearly falling to your doom?” he raised a brow. You almost apologized again before you noticed the suppressed quirk of his lip - he was making fun of you. You rolled your eyes and pulled away, only just registering how close you two still were. He let his arms fall from around your shoulders, his hand lingering in your hair for just a moment before brushing it off your shoulder as it fell.

“Maybe,” you teased, resuming your trailing of the first years, now following behind another well-meaning senior.

“Was I that boring?” Cedric grinned, twirling to face you as he walked backwards. The irony of the boy who just chided you for not watching your step walking backwards just to speak to you was not lost on you, and a mirthful smile painted your lips. His cinnamon-brown locks were swept out of his face, cheeks seemingly forever flushed a lovely red hue. You’d known him for all of two minutes and could already tell he possessed a magnetic charm. He reminded you of one of your friends back at Ilvermorny, Ben, and the smile on your face grew wider.

“Not really, but if you were half as klutzy as you are charming, I’d think I was in the wrong country,” you replied thoughtlessly. You could tell from the confused look on Cedric’s face that the sentiment was lost on him, so you rushed to fill in the blanks.

“I mean -- you remind me of my friend is all. For all the charm that oozes out of Ben, I swear he lacks the same amount of grace,” you sniggered, delighting at the thought of your awkward (yet somehow still immensely popular) friend.

“You guys are around the same age, too.” you added.

Cedric slowed to a stop in front of you, forcing you to stop as well. He leaned in close, close enough for you to smell the sweet scent of the chocolate frogs on his breath that he’d no doubt eaten on the train -- before bringing a hand up to rest on your head.

“All I’m getting from that comparison is that you think I’m charming,” he said. Face burning, you brush his hand aside as he lets out a loud laugh, stepping back. You feel him sling his arm around your shoulders as you guys start walking again, a rather familiar act for such a stranger. You found yourself rather comforted by his presence, a welcome reminder of the warmth of your friends back home you’d been missing.

“Rather familiar already, Cedric?” you ask pointedly. Cedric raises both brows at you this time, tightening his grip.

“I’d say we’re best friends already, wouldn’t you? You even called me Cedric!” he joked.

“That’s because I’m an American,” you rolled your eyes. “It’ll take some getting used to the whole last-name-basis you lot like to use. It seems too...unfamiliar.”

A blast of cool air hit your face as your group passed the Great Hall once again, seeming to come to the end of its tour.

“Well, I’d be glad to be a familiar face for you,” Cedric offered. “First name basis and all...(Y/F/N)?”

You let out a giggle at the questioning tilt of his head, before nodding enthusiastically.

“Thank you,” you said gratefully. “You don’t need to pity me though. If that’s what you’re doing.”

“Not at all,” he responded. “I think we’re on our way to becoming best friends already, actually.”

The cheeky grin on his face was enough to break down the last of your walls, a smile blowing across your face as well. As you two chattered away, a certain blonde haired boy was watching you from across the hall. Still ~salty~ about your abrupt change in attitude during the two of you’s conversation earlier, you’d been on Draco Malfoy’s mind ever since. And when you were sorted into Hufflepuff house, he’d decided that you certainly would fit in amongst those muggle-loving, tree hugging weirdos anyways. But despite that, he still felt a weird thump in his chest when the sorting hat was finally placed on you; as if it would agree with him that you needed to be amongst Slytherins, where you truly belonged. And seeing you laughing alongside Cedric Diggory reminded him of a few hours earlier, when you were laughing with him — or maybe at him, but whatever — and he also decided he didn’t like that. Draco almost found himself marching over to confront you before he remembered that Cedric Diggory was a full three years his senior, and a skilled enough wizard that by the time his father heard the news he’d have probably already spent a few days in the Hogwarts infirmary, hexed to oblivion. While cursing his age and how it’s the sole thing keeping him from giving you a piece of his mind, Draco nearly jumped out of his skin when you suddenly turned and made eye contact with him. Giving him a large wave, the smile on your face suddenly convinced Draco that he’d do anything to see it again, and any earlier rudeness on your part was thrown out the window. Weren’t you angry still? Wasn’t he angry still? Lost in thought, Draco didn’t notice his friend coming up behind him until he felt Blaise’s hand drop heavily on his shoulder. He flinched, immediately turning his back on the Hufflepuffs across the hall. “What are you staring at, man?” Blaise inquired. “Nothing at all,” he said defensively, moving his body even more in order to block his friend’s view. The other boy looked at him in suspicion before shrugging, wrapping an arm around his shoulders before steering him towards the doors. “Flint’s talking about organizing the tryouts for this year,” said Blaise. “We should go check it out.” Nodding his head along to whatever else Blaise was mumbling in his ears, Draco felt the annoying compulsion to turn around once more. Stifling the persistent feeling, he swaggered out of the Great Hall. But, he couldn’t help but wonder if your eyes were still on him or on Diggory.

A/N: this chapter is shorter because as I said in a previous post it’s been sitting in my drafts and I just wanted to get it put out. This is also really more of a bridge chapter. My MacBook crashed so I wasn’t able to write more and I got annoyed with my phone bc I feel like it inhibits my creative juices :( I’ll try and get ch 3 out soon! Lmk if I should create a tag list :)

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #harry potter #cedric diggory #x reader #HP #the wizarding world of harry potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #Draco #Malfoy #Slytherin #hufflepuff

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pinkandgreenarepurpleandyellow · 5 years ago

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I know there’s still a lot of shit happening, and I’m aware that we need to remember the protests haven't stopped, but today was an especially good serotonin day, so I finally pushed myself to finish this three month-old thing, and now I’m posting bc i have no impulse control.

------

”There’s the signal.”

”Yeah.” Fuck that.

Oh sure it’s a life changing opportunity, a new hope, a second chance, but for some reason Doyle would rather stay here.

Next to him Katsumi turns and pats him on the shoulder, a small half-smile shinning on his face. Ah. That might be a reason.

“Katsumi-” He starts, cutting himself off. It’s not possible. They’ve known each other for less than a week. He’s still a fugitive, he has no contacts, no money, no place to stay, and Unchained is still very much after him. But he wants to stay. He wants to leave the job behind, he wants a new home, he wants- he wants to be around people he can get to know beyond the usual discreet suitcase or credit card, beyond being on one or the other side of a gun.

He can’t though. It’s not something assassins can have.

“Yeah?”

He forces his voice to stay even. “Nothing, just -” I think I like you after just a week, I can't ever repay you for this, you’re pretty cute under this light, I don’t want to leave, “thank you. For everything, I mean. The food, the medicine, and the trip. I owe you.” Forever, his mind adds silently.

Katsumi’s smile fades into a concerned frown, and he brushes Doyle’s shoulder with his own - fuck that’s the first time in years anyone’s touched him without violence being involved - as he speaks. “You don’t owe me anything, Doyle,” his hand is swinging closer and closer to his, “I organized this of my own free will, because I wanted to. You deserve a-” why is his voice hitching like he’s about to say something else before he changed his mind - “You deserve a second chance, just like anyone else would. You’re not as bad as you think, an-and it’d be easier for you to start a new life somewhere they can’t find you.” I should leave, Doyle thinks to himself, it’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me, and it’s the world’s biggest favor, and , and-

He doesn’t want to leave. Doyle may not know every aspect of the local culture, but he speaks the language, gets the economy, and with a skillset like his, he could easily get a job in any field. It’d be a new life, a real change, a- A fugitive on the run with no official documents, no actual job prospects, and a death penalty waiting. Not an option.

Katsumi’s sharp turn to face the ship take him out of the train of thought and he watches as the captain suddenly starts flicking the lights of the cabin on and off. Doyle doesn’t know what that means, (or why the idiot doesn’t just use morse code or better yet, simply come out and shout down), but Katsumi’s face hardens.

“There’s a threat on board,” he’s backing away and pulling Doyle with him as he speaks. “It’s Yanagi! Look!” Doyle can now see the shape Katsumi was pointing at, the short and distinct silhouette clearly visible with the lights on. The deadly aura, and the stench of fresh blood mixed with old metal confirm it.

He’s not sure why they’re running away instead of taking Yanagi on together, but Katsumi practically throws Doyle into the drivers seat and chucks the keys at him before flipping over the car and into the shotgun. Instincts kick in. Years of training and being in intense situations have his reflexes following through without question, and Doyle only realizes that he’s done anything when he makes a sharp turn left away from the pier and the tires screech against the pavement. Katsumi’s looking trough the rearview mirror, but slumps in relief. No visible pursuer then.

“Merde, lousy figlio di puttana, dickhead, shove it up his own-” Doyle keeps the rest of the curses in his head, muttering what he can’t through gritted teeth. Right when he was about to finally leave that freak has to show up and ruin it. The hell was his deal anyways? Doyle did some research after he’d found the other four, and this guy seemed to be revenge motivated and not associated with the Shinshinkai. Katsumi probably hadn’t fought him, and the odds of a death row convict deciding to just hijack a boat for no foreseeable reason were laughable. So Yanagi was most likely after either him or Katsumi.

Like he’d read Doyle’s mind, Katusmi speaks. “Was that guy after you? Did you do something to him to get him pissed at you?”

“Nah.” It comes out sharp. Doyle wants another smoke. No smoking while you’re driving, his mind plays back the drilled-in lesson again, the car will reek, the light will be visible, and you either deal with the smoke clogging up your vision and breathing or open the car and beg to be shot. Later. “Best guess? He thinks I broke some weird ‘honorable rule’,” he makes the quotes with his right hand before returning it to the steering wheel, “because I decided to change and accept that you defeated me. Old people get like that about honor sometimes.” He knows it the wrong thing to say, but it’s true. It’s why he went to Japan in the first place, plenty of badasses with a code of honor and a too-large ego. Piss off the right guy, have him kill you. If he fails, kill him, find new guy, rinse and repeat. If they don’t kill you for reasons that aren't weakness, taunt them until they snap.

Thankfully Katsumi is a better person than him and mutters a “Makes sense,” at him instead of starting up an argument. He drives in pointless dodges and turns and alleyways for a while until he’s sure it’s safe, and then Katsumi gives him directions back to his apartment.

They get there. He gets out and, on some old and long-buried instinct, moves to open the door for Katsumi before the karateka gets out on his own.

“I texted dad while you were driving, and he said he was grabbing Shibukawa and going there as soon as he could. The police report was playing on the tv screens a street back or so, and they showed a picture of Yanagi with a broken neck and missing his right arm, still on the boat.” Katsumi walks up the stairs as he talks and Doyle follows, unsure of what else to do. “So I’m guessing either they got there on time, or someone beat them to it. Either way, Yanagi’s not a threat anymore.” They’ve reached the landing, and Katsumi holds his hand out, presumably to get the key ring back from Doyle. He hands it over and chokes out the goodbye.

“Well, see ya around, I guess.” He’s trying very hard to not pretend that he isn’t just the slightest bit crushed about not being able to stay when something grabs his wrist.

“Wait, Doyle! You still don’t have a-” whatever he wants to say, Doyle doesn't wanna hear it. He turns away and keeps trying to walk down the stairs.

“I’ll find something or someone to get me out of Japan. Probably be gone by morning.” He tries to shake the hand off. It doesn’t budge. Stupid guys who have stupid grip strength and their stupidly effective and nice muscles.

“Just hang on, you idiot!” Suddenly Katusmi pulls him back hard enough that Doyle either risks dislocating his shoulder or stumbling back, so he chooses the latter. “We don’t know where Sikorsky is yet, and for all we know he’s after you too. Look,” his voice finally lowers to a reasonable volume that won’t wake the entire neighborhood, “just come in for half a minute, okay? I just gotta make a phone call to check that it’s safe, and then you can leave on your own if you want to, or stay here until we can reschedule stuff and get you on a boat to the Middle East again. It’s won’t take longer than a minute, Doyle. Please?” How the fuck does he do puppy dog eyes like that? Better question, how does Doyle feel himself falling to the them?

“One minute,” he says as calmly as he can when all he wants to do is either leave or stay forever. “One minute, and then I’m gone.” Katusmi nods, unlocks the door, and walks in. Doyle follows, and despite everything they just said about the one minute thing, copies Katusmi’s actions of taking off his shoes. A drink is thrown at his face and Doyle is shocked enough by the fact that this is happening to just open the drink and start sipping instead of realizing it’s intentions.

Katsumi is speaking to what sounds like first one, then two, then five people as he paces, (and the static from the phone when he’s not the one yelling suggests at least one person is speaking to the other people over their own phone), his speech getting faster and faster until Doyle has a hard time distinguishing most of it. He catches bits and pieces of what sounds like legal jargon though, like they’re negotiating a deal. Something involving jail, prisoner, transportation, papers, parole, psychiatry visits, Hector - Hold the fuck up.

Jail. Prisoner. Parole. Hector. Those are not words that should be involved in a conversation asking where Sikorsky is. Scratch that, there should not be this long of a conversation, or with this many people, for asking where Sikorsky is. Or all of the other legal crap in there. What is Katsumi doing?

Finally, an eternity of thirteen minutes and sixteen-and-a-half seconds later, Katsumi speaks at a normal volume, bids a formal goodbye over the phone (probably didn't even realize he was bowing as he did so), and then he’s turning to Doyle with a weirdly happy expression on his face.

“What’s Sikorsky’s status?” he asks.

“Well,” Katsumi sheepishly looks away for a second, “it’s complicated. See, first i called dad and he said he didn’t know and he asked Shibukawa, and he also didn’t know, but then Tokugawa was in the same hallway or something and heard them and started talking, and he was saying some stuff that he had planned for Sikorsky so apparently he’s out there somewhere, but Jack and Gaia are gonna pay him a visit soon so that’s all good.”

“Great, bye.” Doyle stands up and moves to get his shoes back on, but Katusmi has other plans because he grabs Doyle’s arm and keeps talking.

“Thing is, it turns out that Unchained was stopping by that hospital because he wanted to talk to Kureha about something, I think they were at the hospital cause that’s where Kureha usually is, anyways, and they talked about how he was gonna pick up Sikorsky and then you, and then dad and Tokugawa started talking, and somehow between everything the four of them phoned the director of that prison you broke out of and long story short, they pulled some strings and you’re not on death row anymore. So you don’t need to leave!” Doyle blinks.

What. the. fuck?

His first words to this are the more eloquent, “Not on death row?”

Katsumi takes this as a cue to keep talking.

“Yeah, well there’s conditions and that sort of stuff. You have to stay with one of the approved people from Unchained’s list, to make sure you don’t go all assassin-y on innocent people, you gotta visit a special psychiatrist-slash-therapist once a week to help you settle in, and any new crimes will get you thrown into jail no matter what they are, but yeah. Other than that, it’s just some paperwork and stuff.”

“Just to double check, I,” Doyle motions at himself, “can stay here,” waving a hand vaguely to encompass all of Japan, “because your,” poking a finger at Katsumi’s chest, “dad is friends with Unchained and they “pulled some strings”?” he makes the air quote around the last part as obvious as he can because no. This can’t be real. That’s not how things work. Apparently, no one informed Katusmi of this.

“Yep!” he almost chirps the affirmation out as Doyle’s already confused and fragile worldview crumbles in it’s entirety. His entire record, gone as long as he kept obeying the law. A new life. No more death sentence. No more prison.

Deep breath in, he coaches himself through the internal crisis, deep breath out. Right. Okay. He can work with this.

“So,” Katsumi immediately looks back at him, nodding to show he’s paying attention, “Who’s on the list of people I can stay with, and how many of them are already warned?” It’s close to two am, but he can pick the locks, and all he needs is a name to find their address. Katsumi starts talking, listing the names off on his fingers as he speaks.

“Well there’s dad, but he’s still paranoid after what happened to mom, so that’s out. Jack would be okay but we’re not sure if he even has a home, and nobody called him yet. Shibukawa knows but this isn’t the best way for you to meet him, Baki got ruled off the list because he’s too young, Yujiro’s too crazy and would kill you, Unchained vehemently refused to even consider hosting you temporarily after you broke into the station, and Tokugawa claims you ‘concern him’, so that just leaves Strydum, and me. So either you can stay here or-” he trails off. Doyle almost snorts inwardly because Yeah, like that’s a hard choice.

“If you’re okay with it, could I stay here?” Katsumi’s face lights up the same way it did back at the docks, and Doyle feels his heart skipping a very small beat.

“Of course! Grab something form the fridge, I’ll get a spare futon for you in a sec, and sure. We’re gonna have to think about the rest of the stuff in the morning though, but I know a guy for the psychiatry thing, dad was visiting him in the hospital in the first place, and then there’s paperwork, and Im balls at that kinda stuff, and-” Katsumi’s words blur as he keeps moving and talking, but Doyle nods along, a small smile finding its way onto his face. He’ll get through this. He’s got nobody chasing him, a future therapist to talk to, and Katsumi to help him if anything goes wrong.

This, Doyle thinks as Katsumi moves on to talking about how Doyle will love his friends, might just work out.

#this was supposed to end like 4 sentences after katsumi's 'second chance' thing and then he'd say 'you could always leave tmrw'#but then i got bored and threw yanagi #and then the whole extended scene of katsumi talking to ppl instead of his just saying they should reschedule that for another day #i really just wrote in a whole bunch of bs cause i can't write endings huh?#pink-and-green does it again folks #baki the grappler #grappler baki #hector doyle #katsumi orochi #technically they're not together but it's meant to be doysumi so imma tag it #doysumi #doyle x katsumi #btg #my writing #do not repost i stg i dealt w/that once not happening again #fun fact: everything after 'youre a convict you can't stay thats not an option' thing was written today in 2 hours

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strangenewclassrooms · 5 years ago

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Ugh

I’ve been putting off this post because I haven’t had the energy to deal with this shit. And also, y’know, in a pandemic time and brains are weird. I will start by just adding TW for grooming & sexual harassment. Putting it behind a cut for length. Please excuse the word vomit (I’m going back through and editing a bit for clarity but I just needed to get this OUT.)

ANYWAY, I’ve been dealing with a(nother) situation in my martial arts world that has just thrown me for a loop. Some of y’all remember when I had to speak up almost two years ago about a serial creep in the system. That was dealt with, or “dealt with”--not entirely to my satisfaction, but that’s besides the point atm. My friend K (female) and I had brought in our friend D (male) to help with dealing with creep-o because we trust him, he has--or had--consistently shown himself to be an ally across the board. D is a member of a dojo in a different state, so we don’t see him a ton but we do hang out when we are together for martial arts stuff.

So in my girl group we have a 19 year old girl, E. She has been in my dojo since she was 9. She’s the de facto little sister of the group, and is in general a really badass person with a good head on her shoulders. After last summer, when D was hanging out with our group, she and he started chatting online. Nothing out of the ordinary from what I could tell. He does tend to be a bit of a shitposter, but I had never seen him be inappropriate. (I should note at this point that D is male, 40, and a teacher.) Anyway, several weeks ago E dropped to us that in the course of their snapchat convo he asked to see a pic of her in her sports bra. She rightfully flipped out on him, told him that there is no circumstances where he should be asking a 19 year old girl to show him her bra, he was basically like “oh yeah, shit” and she blocked him. He later texted her to say “I’m sorry I’ll keep my flirtation more tame in the future. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk to me” (so a non-apology) *eta side note: he’s also married. And that aside there is no circumstance where he should be doing anything like “flirting” with a 19 year old girl.

K and I encouraged her to talk to our sensei about it bc this is beyond not OK. (At the time, I was really hopeful that this was just a colossal mistake on D’s part and we could just keep E from having to interact with him and he’d learn.) During that conversation, she revealed it wasn’t the first inappropriate comment he’d made to her, but she’d just ignored the comments. When they first started talking he told her “let me know if I’m ever too much/cross a line” (which has klaxons going off in my head bc that’s grooming behavior), and at a later point he’d mentioned masturbation to her. (In the context of: “Girl, you need to relax...”) So naturally that revelation changed shit. And K and I were furious with D. (And also super proud of E for standing up to him and knowing she doesn’t deserve that. While also being horrified/guilty/angry that she was put in that position.) At that point, we stopped interacting with D online. He commented on a bunch of K’s fb posts, and then when she didn’t reply messaged her saying he was worried about her. She sent a message to the group with the three of us to say that we were really upset with him and didn’t want to talk. He replied and said he understood, but thought “this whole thing is being blown out of proportion” and offered to talk when we wanted. We haven’t taken him up on that offer, and don’t plan on it. And I’ve just been SO thrown for a loop by this. I’m furious at him. He’s a fucking teacher and should know better than most about how to maintain good boundaries with young people. I was always a little uncomfortable with the fact they were talking over Snapchat, but I chalked that up to the fact that I don’t use it, and in general I maintain really strict (stricter than necessary?) social media boundaries. So I thought of that as a *me* issue, rather than an issue with the communication. And I should have listened to my gut. I’m not blaming myself for the fact that E was in that position, but I do feel like I failed in my duty of care. Not as badly as D, of course. But I trusted him. K trusted him. And there is no scenario where this can be written of as a clueless guy making dumb comments. The fact it was more than just one incident, the fact it’s all over Snapchat (and thus no record), his grooming behavior. The fact that he’s fucking 40 years old, married, a TEACHER (side note: I know, I know that there are some shitty predatory teachers out there, but I just thought he wasn’t that.) Like, he knew better. He did.

And I’m just tired of always being the one who has to bring this shit up (thankfully in this situation it wasn’t just me, and our sensei took it very seriously and were as horrified as K and I were.) I just worry that the more I bring up instances of misconduct or sexism, the more likely it is that the powers that be will see it as a girl who cried wolf thing as opposed to me raising legitimate issues. So, I don’t really know where or how to go from this. Thanks to pandemic, we won’t be in a position to be physically around D for a while. E has blocked him everywhere so he doesn’t have access to her, and I’m not concerned about him harassing K and I about any of it. But I’m just questioning my instincts, which are normally pretty good, and questioning how as an organization things will proceed. We’ve already heard that the system heads are working on a (very overdue imho) code of conduct, but I’m not 100% confident that it will cover everything that we need. (This is the same system heads who gave an award for integrity to the first creep-o the same year I reported him. So...yeah...) I’m just tired. And I know that pandemic brain is making everything worse and more draining. But it’s not fair that this is something that women in the system (and in general) have to deal with when we’re just trying to work out, same as everyone else.

#please no rebagel #coincidentally today's Ask a Manager had a similar situation and the unanimous NOPE comments put me over the edge again

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trans-fushiguro · 6 years ago

Text

In a Week

Narancia has a huge crush on the cute boy in his Literature class who smells like flowers.

NaraMis Week 2019 - Day 4: Fear/Comfort/Flowers

So this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr but i got a shit ton of other fics, mostly overwatch, taz amnesty, and jojo fics on ao3 so feel free to check them out!

This was a part of NaraMis Week that was organized by @blubby-glub and just decided to post here bc i actually liked it

You can read this fic on ao3 here

The first time Narancia meets Mista, he almost runs him over.

He didn’t mean it at all! It was that all three of them were running late, Abbacchio having left the house in a hurry, driving in a way no self-respecting police officer should drive. All three of them had slept pass their alarm and the only reason they were awake was by the sole fact that Fugo had yelled a curse out loud, startling him and Abbacchio awake. Class started at 7:20 and to say they were running late was an understatement. They had ten minutes to get the school, and by god will Narancia get them there on time, traffic laws and the usual twenty-five-minute drive it took to get there be damned.

Let it be known that Narancia doesn’t usually (read: ever) drive. Driving was left up to Fugo, who while prone to a severe case of road rage, is quite the good driver. The only reason that Narancia was driving that instant was because of Fugo not being able to find his license. Leaving Narancia to be the driver for the day. Something Narancia hated six minutes later, four minutes to go before the two were officially late.

Narancia was gunning down the road, definitely over the speed limit when he notices two figures starting to cross the road. Fugo shouts and Narancia curses, slamming the breaks. He probably would’ve hit the taller of the three were it not for the other two quickly pulling the other back and out of the way. The group of five stared at each other, shocked and a little terrified at what had almost occurred before the girl of the group recovered and threw them the nastiest glare either of the boys had ever seen.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going! You couldn’t have almost killed him!” she shouted, anger making her frame tense. Narancia gulped. Man, she is terrifying. She turned to her companions, a blonde kid and the guy with the beanie. “Are you okay? That idiot didn’t manage to clip you right?” she asked, another poisonous glare thrown at them. The taller of the boys nodded, releasing a shaky breath.

“Yeah, yeah, no, I’m fine! Just a close one,” he laughed weakly, glancing at Fugo and him. Narancia felt himself dying of embarrassment. Before either of them could open their mouth to apologize, the blond in the back pipped up.

“We have two minutes left. We got to go,” the other two cursed and the trio ran off towards the school. Narancia and Fugo stared after them for a solid minute, before Fugo broke the silence.

“You… are never allowed to drive again…” he said slowly, staring after the group as they entered the building. Narancia nodded.

“Agreed,”

They got there late. Fugo flicked him upside the head as they ran down the hallway, dipping into a classroom on his way. Narancia grimaced and picked up his pace. Maybe Risotto hadn’t shown up? He kept that hope as he turned and ran to his classroom almost slamming into the door. He throws it in, heaving only to have the whole class and Risotto stare at him. So much for that dream. Risotto raised a thin white eyebrow.

“Sorry…” he heaved, still searching for air. The teacher just rolled his eyes and gestured to the last open chair, that happened to be with the last person Narancia wanted to see right now. He wasn’t sure what god he pissed off that lovely Tuesday morning but damn it if karma wasn’t helping them. Sitting in the desk at the back was the dude with the beanie. The one he almost ran over.

Narancia didn’t know if he should laugh or just cry at this point.

“Narancia, if you would please take a seat over there next to Guido so I can continue the lesson you rudely interrupted? Thank you,” the man said, a little exasperated.

“Sorry, sir,”

“Don’t let it happen again,”

Narancia felt dread as he walked to the back of the room. The boy didn’t notice he was there until he pulled the chair, the legs scraping against the scratched linoleum, causing the other (Guido, his brain supplies) to jump in his seat, startled. He can hear a sigh from the teacher. Oops. It’s not even eight yet and this might just be one of the most horrifying and embarrassing days of his life. Must be a new record. Guido stares at him, surprised as he sits down, before turning back to his doodling. Narancia tries to ignore the haunting situation he finds himself in. He tries to focus on the lecture but he couldn’t care less about the difference between a Shakespearean and Petrarchan sonnet, and so his eyes begin to drift. They end up landing on Guido.

The other boy was taller than him and seemed a bit more muscular. He wore a purple beanie and a striped baggy shirt. He could see some curls peeking out from beneath his hat. He had long lashes and the darkest eyes he’s ever seen. He was focused on his doodling, brows slightly furrowed and tongue peeking out slightly. Narancia glanced and saw he was doodling flowers, different kinds. Narancia didn’t know much about flowers but the little drawings were pretty nice. He noticed a bundle of roses, what was probably a daisy, a tulip, among others. It was pretty cute. He was pretty cute. Dear God, he almost ran over the cute boy in his literature class who draws flowers. The situation had been present in his mind, yes, but it hadn’t quite sunk in that 1) the almost-victim of the vehicular manslaughter he almost committed is just his type and 2) he would have to see him every other day for the rest of the school year.

Narancia groaned and put his head on his desk. Quite possibly the worst day of his life. He can already imagine Fugo’s sadistic glee at seeing him suffer like this. He felt a soft tap at his head, he groaned. He didn’t even care if it was his teacher, he just needed to suffer for five minutes an then he’ll be somewhat okay. The tapping returned, just a little more prodding, and that’s when Narancia noticed that the tapping was coming from his other side. He felt mortification engulf him as if he was thrown into a lake. He snapped his head up quicker than he thought, headbutting Guido, who had leaned in a little closer than he expected. The other boy hissed in pain, hands shooting up to cover his nose. Narancia cursed, having slammed his knee with his desk when he jumped up.

“Narancia, how many times will I have to call you attention in this class?” Risotto approached them, voice tired. The whole class stared at the two of them, not that Narancia noticed as he was too busy looking at Guido horrified. The other’s nose had started bleeding. The older man turned to look at Guido holding his nose and Narancia’s hand rubbing his bruised leg and sighed.

“Both of you go to the nurse’s office,”

Narancia couldn’t even reply, he felt horrified. Guido nodded and began to stand up, spurring Narancia into action. He winced at the pain in his leg.

“Thank you, R-Mr. Nero,” he said, quickly before whispering, “You think you can not mention this to Abbacchio?”

“Not a chance.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

He and Guido left the room, Narancia making sure there was enough distance between the two. He didn’t want to trip Guido or anything, because knowing his luck, he might just break the other’s arm or something. In moments like this, he was glad Fugo wasn’t around. He thinks his brother would have just died of laughter at the hole Narancia’s dug himself in. It was kind of pathetic.

“Hey, uh… Narancia, was it? Can we stop by the bathroom? I could use a napkin… or two for, you know,” Guido said, gesturing to his nose. His voice sounded a bit nasally from the pressure he was putting on his nose, blood dripping from his nose through the cracks in his fingers and down his chin. Oh, yeah. That would’ve been smart. Great thinking Narancia.

“Y-Yeah! Of course!” Narancia was never going to leave the house ever again, education be damned.

After a quick detour to the bathroom, they arrived at the nurse’s office. She gave an ice pack to Narancia to keep the swelling down and gave some cotton balls soaked in alcohol to Guido. The two sat next to each other, Guido’s head tilted back, and Narancia fighting not to bounce his injured leg. The silence felt oppressive to him.

Just talk to him, introduce yourself to him. ‘Hey, I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car and for headbutting you!’ Easy, you got this!

“You should look both ways when you cross.” What the fuck. Guido gave him an incredulous look.

“Are you serious?” Why was he built like this?

“T-That’s not what I meant! I really really did not mean for that to come out?” He panicked, flailing his arms around. This is officially the worst day of his life. “I meant to say sorry! For almost hitting you with my car! This morning! Hi, I’m Narancia! Also sorry for headbutting you! It’s just not been my day and I was speeding and your name is Guido isn’t it? That’s a nice name! Uh, anyways! I’m sorry for um almost killing you? God, that’s horrifying. Your friend is also really scary, she terrified me and my brother. Why do I keep talking? I AM SORRY!”

Mista blinked, taken aback by the speed at which Narancia delivered his small, disjointed speech. Narancia was already choosing which kind of coffin he would like to bury himself into. He’s thinking nice mahogany, painted black. He thinks Abbacchio would like it.

Guido opened his mouth, Narancia already finalizing his testament, but was interrupted when a man with a black bob opened the door. He wore a long-sleeved loose shirt, with light washed jeans and rubber boots. His eyes swept through the room before landing on the two boys.

“Hey, Bruno…” Guido smiled sheepishly, the cotton ball still held near his nose. “Funny seeing you here,”

The man, Bruno, just stared at the other, unimpressed.

“When I told you that I was picking you guys early, it wasn’t a free pass to get sent to the nurse’s office.” Mista shrugged.

“It was an accident.” Bruno huffed, rolling his eyes. Narancia could see a soft smile grace his features.

“Sure it is. Either way, I’m glad you are okay. Let’s go wait for Trish and Giorno.” From behind the older man, Narancia catches the glimpse of a police hat and silver hair. Oh shit. Abbacchio appears behind Bruno, saying a soft excuse me, before his eyes land on Narancia. They look at each other for a solid minute. Abbacchio turns to Guido and Bruno, the latter helping pick up the former’s bag while Guido wiped the blood from his face. Abbacchio turned back to him.

“What the fuck, kid?” Narancia would like to know too.

Fugo had had a field day with this one, his adopted brother laughing for five minutes straight. Whenever the laughter would petter down, one look at Narancia would start the laughter again. Finally, Abbacchio took pity on him and put an end to it.

“Alright, Fugo, lay off. Sure he almost hit this guy with the car, ran into the class all sweaty and gross, which Risotto texted me about just so you know, and then proceeded to headbutt the same kid and bruise the hell out of his own knee in the process is funny, but you should stop teasing him about it,” the policeman said from where he was cooking the dinner for the night. Fugo cackled and Narancia slammed his head on the table.

“I hate you both,”

The idea of going to school was haunting. Even if Abbacchio let him stay home the next day, he still had to face Guido. Something he really didn’t want to do. He felt both relieved and upset that Guido wasn’t there in the first block. It wasn’t until lunch when he was sitting with Fugo, waiting for Sheila, that he got an answer. The blond kid that had been with Guido approached them. He looked at the small group before his eyes landed on Narancia. The kid looked pretty small and skinny, but he was still at least an inch taller than Narancia. Maybe he was here to fight him? He did almost run over his friend.

“You’re Narancia right?” he asked, voice devoid of emotions. Oh, yeah. Narancia’s going to get destroyed.

“Why do you ask?” Fugo questioned, sitting up a bit straighter. The blond turned to him, raising an eyebrow. Sheila approaches them, drinking a juice box.

“My brother asked me to give this to a Narancia,” he said, holding up a little box none of them have noticed. “Which surprises me, considering you guys almost ran him over with your car,” Sheila choked on her juice, turning to the blond. The blond nodded to her.

“Hey, Sheila,”

“Wait, Giorno, you’re telling me it was these idiots that almost ran over Mista?” her voice trembled with laughter as she turned to stare at the two. Fugo and Narancia grimaced. Sheila’s eyes grew bright and she laughed. “Narancia, I can’t believe you almost hit Mista with a car, and then gave him a bloody nose, this is rich.” Giorno shook his head, a smile on his lips. Narancia relaxed. If Giorno was here to beat him up on behalf of his brother, he probably wouldn’t be amused by the situation.

“Anyways, are you Narancia or not? Mista told me to give this to you. He would’ve done it himself, but he’s a bit sick,” he said, holding out the box. Narancia nodded, taking the box. Giorno hummed, then waved to Sheila before walking away. Narancia stared in wonder, opening the box and seeing a single rose with a small note tied to it. Narancia gently took the note out.

“Water under the bridge. Call me Mista.”

After the most horrifying day in his life, everything with Mista smoothed over.

Mista introduced Narancia to his younger siblings. Giorno looked at him, vaguely smug-looking, almost like a cat. Trish stared at him, almost as if searching for something. Whatever she found must have satisfied her as she smiled at him and allowed him to sit. Narancia felt slightly nervous around her. Mista’s siblings were scary, despite being only sophomores. They looked like they knew more than they let on, blue eyes peering into his soul. He shivered, glad and a little exasperated that Mista didn’t really notice.

He also introduced Mista to Fugo, who had apologized for almost running him over. Narancia was a little jealous it went over better than how his apology had gone. SHeila had already been friends with Mista and his siblings, so it was quite easy for the two of them to just sit with the others. Apparently, Trish was the girlfriend Sheila had been talking about. Narancia liked it, it was nice to have a little group. It was nice to be able to hang out with Mista.

Mista, who he still had a major crush on. The more he learned about the other, the more infatuated he became. He had the same sense of humor as Narancia and liked the same music. He smelled like flowers and rich earth, something that was a mystery to him. Mista also loved flowers. It was something he’d noticed amongst the foster siblings. They all had the same affinity to nature in general. They all had that same pleasant smell.

He was looking for flowers to put on his mother’s grave. His usual shop had closed early for the day, so he searched for another shop nearby. He almost missed it in the search results, but the name drew him in. La Calendula.

It was his mother’s favorite flower. A smile graced his face as he wrote down the address. He called out to Fugo and Abbacchio, telling them where he was going. They let him go alone. It was something Narancia needed to do alone, with relative peace.

He set off, walking the ten minutes to the shop. It was small, yet looked well taken care of. The sign was hand-painted and there were displays of flowers in the window. He opened the door, a bell softly tingling, announcing his entrance. The man behind the counter looked up, squinting, before giving him a beaming smile.

“Hello, welcome to La Calendula! How may I help you?” the man asked, voice strong and warm. He looked familiar to Narancia. Something about the short black hair and blue eyes tickled at his memory. He let it go. He’s never been here before so it was probably a weird bout of déjà vu.

“Yes, I was wondering if you could help me pick out a bouquet for my mother’s grave? The flower shop I normally go to closed early for the day and I’ve been meaning to swing by to visit her,” To Narancia’s relief, the man didn’t give him a look of pity, just hummed and pondered for a second, nodding, and looking knowingly at Narancia. The look looked incredibly familiar. It almost reminded him of Trish when she was plotting.

“I think I have an idea as to what to do,” he said, before turning back and calling out to the backroom. “Mista! Bring out some sunflowers and peonies!” he paused for a second, before continuing. “Call Giorno and see if the larkspur and gladiola are ready!” He heard a familiar voice shout back in affirmation.

Narancia’s brain stopped. Huh. Now everything made sense. The man was Bruno, the siblings’ foster dad, and owned a flower shop. That why the siblings smelled like that and why they all held an affinity to flowers. The rose Mista gave him. Makes sense. He, however, wasn’t ready to see Mista walk out of the back looking incredibly adorable.

Mista carried a few containers of flowers, most likely the one’s Bruno called for. They were beautiful, a combination of colors but what was even more beautiful was the boy carrying them. His curls were freed from his everpresent hat, small flowers weaved into them, making them pop with color. His eyes were bright and happy, looking at peace amongst the flowers. He had a streak of dirt on his cheek, his freckles seemed to pop out more, most likely from him being in the sun. He was dressed simply in an oversized white shirt and with overalls on, the strap sliding off his shoulder.

Narancia was in love.

Mista then seemed to notice him, eyes widening and he stumbles, almost dropping the containers if not for Bruno stepping in. Narancia misses the knowing look and grin Bruno flashes Mista. Mista’s cheeks color, clearly embarrassed. Narancia wishes he could take a picture of how beautiful he looks.

“H-Hey, Nara! Didn’t know you were here!” Mista said, shooting a glare at Bruno, who responded with a smile, patting Mista’s shoulder.

“I’ll be out back if you need me!” Bruno said, winking. Mista groaned. “Behave yourself!”

The two stood next to each other, just staring not knowing what to do. Mista’s blush had quickly spread to the tips of his ears, and he stuttered out.

“Hey, how help can you? I mean, how you can help. Fuck.” he took a deep breath. “How can I help you?”

Narancia softly laughed. He gestured to the flowers Bruno left on the counter.

“Just these. I need an arrangement,” he said, enjoying the sight of a flustered Mista. It was really cute. Narancia wasn’t the brightest, but he definitely wasn’t blind to see Mista’s reaction was a result of infatuation. He felt light and airy, seeing that they had the same effect on each other. The other boy laughed as well, a little jittery, and nodded, going to the flowers. The two began chatting, talking about anything that popped into their mind, Narancia enraptured in watching as Mista efficiently started building the arrangement. He used burgundy, pink, and white, adding the yellow of the sunflowers to pop. It was beautiful, and from the soft smile pulling at the sides of full lips and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes as he stared at the flowers, Narancia knew he loved what he did here. And when Mista gave him the same look, eyes soft and shining, Narancia caved in.

Careful with the flower arrangement, he leaned forward, getting close to Mista. Violet looked into coal, and their lips met. It was a sweet kiss, soft and slow. Narancia could breathe Mista’s fresh scent, stronger than it ever was. It was comforting and sweet. Narancia felt like he could stay there, drinking in all of Mista for hours, and by how hard they were smile, teeth clinking against each other, it was mutual.

“Finally! About time!” The two were startled apart, Mista whipping around to see his whole family there. Trish had been the one to yell and was beaming, Giorno had a mischevious grin on his face, a camera in his hands. Bruno smiled at the two softly. Mista instantly went red, Narancia not far behind going by the haet he feels flooding his cheeks.

“Are you guys serious?! Get out!” he shouted in indignation and embarrassment. The three laughed at his expense, leaving the two alone, Giorno throwing a quick quip in Japanese at Mista that had the other yelling after him, the blond leaving with a giggle. Mista turned back, sheepishly.

“Sorry about that, you know how it is,” Narancia smiled, and gave him another soft kiss. Mista reciprocated happily.

“It’s okay,” Narancia breaks apart and presses their foreheads together, giving Mista a soft look, repeating something from what felt like yesterday.

“Water under the bridge.”

#naramis #naramis week #naramis week 2019 #writings

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ladyalice101 · 6 years ago

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Just read your fic "you gave all you had (and now i am whole)" on AO3 (I'm KaisaSegher there, btw) and let me just say it was amazing! I'm sorry if I'm repeating myself here, but it truly was. Thank goodness we have people like you to fix the mess D&D made, really. THIS is what should have happened, at some point. Heck, in my mind it will. What are your thoughts on the finale? Any favourite headcanons you'd like to share? Anyway, keep your amazing work! Big hug

ok ok ok i just typed this huge ass response to this and tumblr has swallowed it and deposited it in the aether, but i will retype though perhaps more briefly haha.

so firstly, THANK YOU. you aren’t repeating yourself but even if you were i would still LOVE this bc you went to the effort to not only tell me you loved it once, but TWICE. you’re so kind and you have no idea how much it means to me. truly, thank you.

so the finale - i dont have much to say that hasn’t already been said, but i still will answer!

my biggest issue is that there was no release of tension. we spent 8 season with these protagonists, with their hopes and dreams, and not a single one of them got what they wanted.

jon wanted to find a place to belong - i would argue he found that with sansa, though i know others disagree. some probably say that he found a place amongst the wildlings (and yes i do think this is true on some level), and i could probably be happier about jon’s ending being north of the wall if not for the way they framed it. we have a montage of jon getting back to castle black (the place he left bc he was fucking MURDERED there), and then we have him ride out north of the wall with sad music playing behind (notably jon doesn’t smile ONCE), and the camera is positioned inside the wall as the gate closes on jon, who is looking back over his shoulder, signifying that jon can’t go south again and he’s really upset about it. maybe if he smiled a bit. a quirk of his lips as the gate closed, or as he rode into the forest. but no. nope.

sorry, but i really can’t find it in myself to find that ‘sweet’ in any way. it’s just straight up bitter. it’s just straight up sad.

sansa - my girl deserved to get agency over herself, and that’s why i like her being queen. the north deserved a queen as good as sansa. but? where is the personal fulfilment? sansa’s entire arc was about her romantic naiveté being ripped from her, so where was the full circle moment where she realises that life isn’t hopeless? where she and we get the fulfilment of realising that she was right all along, that there is magic is falling in love and being loved.

so like cool she was ‘trained’ to be queen and she is, but that’s not what her arc was about and to reduce it to that is upsetting.

i won’t get in to arya and bran - bc i’d just be repeating myself with the whole ‘they should be with family like they all fought for for 8 seasons’, or repeating other’s who have articulated the problems much better.

but they tried to sell us some whack bs this season man.

life isn’t shit and then you die and it’s fucked up that they tried to tell us that it is.

oh no, of course, i’m forgetting the two characters who deserved to get the happy endings that they did - tyrion and bronn! those two did such great things in the show and they deserved to be the only two were rewarded with everything they ever wanted!

ha. ha ha ha. i’m going to cry myself to sleep.

so why does this matter so much to me?

when i first started watching got, my personal life was extremely different to what it is now. that’s to be expected, of course, because it’s been four years. i won’t go in to TOO much detail, bc shit’s about to get really fucking personal even though you didn’t ask hahaha, but earlier this year i was diagnosed with a genetic mutation called BRCA1 which basically means that my lifetime chance of getting breast cancer is 80% (it’s 12% for other women) and 40% for ovarian cancer (which, from memory, is 2% for other women). so my chance are pretty high. i got tested bc my mum got breast cancer late last year, and we have a family history, so she was tested for the BRCA1 mutation and was found positive. i decided to get tested, too. (my mum just finished treatment last month and it’s looking really good for her, thank GOD).

god do i know that this is not the worst thing that i could have been diagnosed with but i’m only 21 and i have to get 6 monthly clinical exams and scans done. by the time i’m 30 i’ll probably have had to have gotten a double mastectomy, and by the time i’m 40 i have to have had all my reproductive organs removed - ovaries, fallopian tubes, uterus, all of it.

so. i’m 21. i’m single, and quite a romantic. i don’t expect to have found my life partner in the next few years, and i expect even less to be married by the time i’m 30. i’m facing the very real possibility of not being able to carry my own child, of not being able to breastfeed any child i do have.

sure, not the worst, but it’s not great - but what does it do to my romantic prospects? at worst, it would turn men away (not that i’d want those weakass men that can’t see past that but you get the point), at best it would likely create some tension at some point.

and do you know what got taught me this year?

that life is shit and then you die.

so amidst all of that fucking bullshit in my life, game of thrones s8 barged in and told me that the characters that i identify with (the sansa’s, the jon’s) they don’t get a happily ever after, despite what they hope for, what they want. they sacrifice everything, they go through all of that bullshit, just to never fall in love, just to be punished for doing the right thing.

now maybe you read all of that and you’re like “oh that’s sad about the brca thing but i dont see what that has to do with got and maybe you should seperate them and move on” like most people in my life have told me. and trust me, one day i probably will. i want to now, but unfortunately i can’t.

and that’s what upset me. media isn’t supposed to do that, isn’t supposed to make you so upset about your own life. they can claim realism all they want, but if they wanted to be realistic they wouldn’t have fucking thrown out arcs and stories and people having like actual consequences for their actions. realism is not just ‘there are no happy endings in real life’.

so, in conclusion, game of thrones ruined my life. haha nah, but, really? they couldn’t have given us some sweet with that bitter?

anyway. WHOO. that’s a long ass reply. as for headcanons - i don’t really have much tbh but if i think of some i’ll put them in a post. if there’s headcanons around a specific thing you want to see, then send me a message/ask bc you’ll probably prompt my imagination and i want to give you everything.

otherwise thank you SO much for reading my story and this reply! xxx

#ask #got #got finale #jonsa #jon x sansa

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elsaclack · 6 years ago

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2019 writing meme

bc why not

i was tagged by @startofamoment and @disruptedvice!!! thanks guys i appreciate it lmao

things i’m for sure going to write:

the remaining six chapters of the royalty au i started in november of last year!! all of which have been outlined!!! and i’ll post a snippet of what i have written of chapter 5 below the cut!!

the remaining peraltiago kiss prompts in my inbox

the remaining starmora kiss prompt in my inbox

rewriting the enemies to friends to lovers in one night at a wedding oneshot that i stupidly forgot to cross-post before i deleted the original elsaclack

a groundhog day soulmate au wherein two soulmates relive the same day over and over and over again until they fall in love

things i’m very likely going to write:

a soulmate au in which a person’s soulmate appears to them 5 times throughout their life before they meet and helps them make 5 major life decisions that leads them both to their first irl meeting

an organized crime au wherein jake and amy are both independent con artists whose paths consistently cross, giving way to an extremely competitive (and flirty) kind of co-existence. at least that’s how jake sees it, up until he screws amy out of a $100,000 score - that’s when he finds out amy isn’t an independent con artist, but rather a worker bee for an extremely pissed-off mob boss who now wants them both dead. featuring a tech-savvy (and weapons-savvy) rosa and hitman charles

a set it up au wherein jake is on desk duty working as holt’s assistant for the foreseeable future and amy is kevin’s TA

a sound of music au that includes SEVEN of the peraltiago babies flying around fanon lmao

things i’d like to write at some point:

the proposal au that has literally been like 2-3 years in the making

a blatant and full-fledged hunger games au

ANYWAYS i also have like 342983649278 half-written and abandoned one-off wips in my docs that i might borrow from or finish at some point or another but i’m trying to not set myself up for failure by adding them to this list lmao. i’ll grab a few snippets from some of those just to throw them out there in the universe as an apology for being so inactive lately!!

i’m not sure who all has been tagged yet so forgive me if you’ve been tagged: @philtstone @johnny-and-dora @taxicabsandcupcakes @the-pontiac-bandit @johnnydora @snlsamberg @bklyn-ninenine and @proofthatihaveaheart!!!

no pressure tho obviously like please feel free to ignore!!!

ANYWAYS!!!!!

******ALL OF THESE ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE BEFORE PUBLISHING (WHERE APPLICABLE LMAO)******

you’re a king and i’m a lionheart ch. 5 preview:

It’s been precisely three weeks and five days since that secret, blessed afternoon in the library with Amy, and each day that has passed has been another stone tied around his ankles. He looks up for the first time since sitting down some twenty minutes earlier - she’s grimacing at him through the mirror, a deep valley of concern creasing the space between her brows, and as he shoots her a grimace of his own she catches her lower lip between her teeth and sets about nibbling. “It sucks,” she finally says.

“Well, yeah,” he leans back in his seat, until his shoulders brush against the warm, soft plane of her stomach, hidden beneath her uniform. “Most of this shit does.”

She grimaces again and reaches up, hands sliding over his shoulders to gently squeeze. “I wish I could say it’ll be over soon, but…”

“We both know it’d be a lie.”

“I may have a silver lining,” she kneads the pads of her thumbs into the knotted sinews of muscle lining his shoulder and his head drops forward automatically. “I’ll be there through the whole thing and I can probably get you out early.”

He groans appreciatively - both at her reminder and at the perfect warmth and pressure she’s applying to his shoulders and neck. “You’re an angel, you know?”

She huffs out a quiet laugh above him - and it’s the first time he’s heard it here, between the two of them, in a long time.

Three weeks and five days, to be exact.

a random neighbors au:

“So,” he says as he wriggles his key into the lock on his mailbox. From the corner of his eye he sees her head turned toward him, frozen in the act of rifling through her mail. “Are you a magician?”

He turns toward her to find her staring at him like he’s just beamed down from outer space, and for half a second he almost bails. Her brow is furrowed and the corners of her mouth are pulled down. “What?” she asks.

“Are you a magician?” he repeats. He waits until she’s blinked twice, before adding “‘cause when I look at you, everyone else disappears.”

The silence that follows rings just long enough for him to regret approximately eighty-seven percent of his collective life choices. She arches a brow and turns a little more fully toward him, but otherwise remains motionless until he forces himself to swallow thickly.

“That’s what you’re gonna go with?” she finally asks, and even though the vast majority of her demeanor is now overflowing with derision, he’s certain there’s a spark of amusement in her eyes. “Of all the cheesy pickup lines in the world, you’re going with...magician. You can’t honestly tell me you thought that would work.”

He can feel his face flooding with heat, embarrassment like static prickling up his spine to the back of his neck. She’s still staring at him expectantly, her mail now apparently forgotten as she lowers her hands to her hips, and when he tries to swallow it’s like the Sahara in his throat. “Uh,” he coughs a bit awkwardly, letting his keys hang from the lock so he can properly rub the back of his neck. “I just thought - since we’re the only ones in here -”

“No, I got that part,” she interrupts, a smile beginning to form in the curves of her face. “That was the only slightly redeemable part of...whatever that was supposed to be. But tacking it on to calling me a magician is definitely not achieving what you’re trying to achieve here.”

A brief, nervous laugh escapes his chest on an exhale, and this woman is still staring at him - though her amusement is far more pronounced now. In fact, he’d go so far as to say she looks mirthful in the way she appraises him from head to toe. “That definitely wasn’t my best,” he admits, reaching up for his keys, pleased to find his hands steadier than he expected them to be. “Can I get a do-over? And...maybe your number, while I’m at it?”

Her answering laugh is bright and loud and it simmers in his veins; it seems to catch her off-guard as it does him. She shakes her head and lifts her mail to her chest again, almost like she’s trying to put a barrier between them. “That was a little better,” she admits through a smile, “but still not great. Do any of those ever work for you?”

“Sometimes,” he nods, finally getting his mailbox door open just to find two overdue bills and a copy of Busty Ladies magazine inside. He stares for a beat, and then closes the door. “No mail for the falcon today.” he says cheerfully.

“The falcon?” she repeats - and all the derision from before is back.

“Oh, yeah, my - my gym buddies call me ‘the falcon,’ y’know, ‘cause - ‘cause I’m so badass.”

She stares, mouth just slightly agape, and he regrets ninety-three percent of his collective life-choices. “Wow,” she finally manages, backing a pace toward the door, and then another. “Well, uh, it was...interesting meeting you, Mr. The Falcon.”

He laughs, and she grins, and then she’s backing away earnestly and he’s left with the feeling of grasping at straws. “Ja- uh, it’s actually Jacob.”

“Jacob.” she repeats.

And he panics. “I don’t know why I said that, no one actually calls me Jacob. I mean, it’s my real name, it’s my - my full name, or proper name, or whatever. But my mom is the only one who calls me that and she only does it when I’m in trouble.” She’s almost to the doorway now, looking at him the way he suspects she looks at people who try to corner her in bodegas to passionately warn her of a looming apocalypse, and she’s about to disappear. “It’s Jake.”

She pauses just beside the doorway, head cocked just slightly to the left, and unreadable expression on her face. “Hi, Jake. You’re really weird.”

the hunger games au:

“What do you mean?” Jake asks. Santiago shifts, eyes darting to the right toward the end of the table, suddenly looking like a cornered animal. “Your game ended four years ago -”

She makes a noise, a loud “tch” sound between her teeth, and he falls silent. “I left the arena four years ago,” she says slowly. She’s still gripping her empty glass tightly, like it’s the only solid thing in the room. “But I’m still playing the games. The games are never over. They drag you back every year so you have a front row seat, they make you...talk to people,” she seems to have a hard time forcing the words out of her throat, which strikes Jake as a very Diaz-like thing to do. “It’s just...it’s never over. Never.”

The train passes into a tunnel, and suddenly the entire dining cart is thrown into an eerie, rapidly flashing orange light. The shadows cross Santiago’s face quickly, and she suddenly seems much older than she did before. She leans forward across the table toward him, and when her mouth opens, he catches the slightest smell of whiskey on her breath.

“Trust me, Peralta,” she whispers. “There’s only one loser in the games. And that’s the last one standing. The games only end when you do.”

“I don’t want to die.” he says, in a voice that is not his own, too dark and tense and quiet. “I don’t want to, I don’t want to...how, how do I...please, Santiago,” he finishes in a whisper, “help me.”

The tunnel ends, and the cart is once again bathed in the soft yellow light from the lamp on the side table behind her. He sees her swallow thickly, her fingers bone white for how hard they’re curled around her glass. She chews the inside of her cheek and casts a glance out the window toward that cluster of glittering lights in the distance growing steadily closer, before she returns to his face. “I-I can’t -” she rasps, pauses, clears her throat, and starts again. “I can’t...guarantee anything. You know that, don’t you? There’s nothing guaranteed about any of this, okay?”

His fingers and toes are numb and his heart feels like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings against his breast as he nods. He grips the edges of the nearest plate and pulls it closer, until the edge digs into his chest.

“Okay,” she whispers, “I’ll help you.” Her right hand drifts to the deep divot in the tabletop from where Rosa’s knife had landed hours earlier, fingertips tracing and catching on the scar.

His chest quakes with a shaky exhale. Relief floods through his veins, hot and strong, and his whole body sags in heedy relief. “Thank you, God, thank you Santiago -”

She taps the bottom of her glass against the table loudly, cutting him off, and then turns her head up toward the ceiling. “Amy.” She says after a moment.

“I’m...what?”

She drops her chin again, and when her eyes find his he’s suddenly violently transported back in time to that moment in the Market four years previously, hours before her reaping, the last time he saw her eyes so clear and bright and present. “It’s Amy,” she says, “you can call me Amy.”

a sound of music au:

Mrs. Simms and Maria both start toward the staircase, a tense silence lingering behind them. Neither Jake nor Captain Santiago move until they hear a door click shut upstairs; the moment the silence descends again, Captain Santiago releases a breath and drops her head.

Somehow, her posture is still ramrod straight.

“I apologize, Mr. Peralta,” she says as she turns toward him, and suddenly Jake is aware of the deep crescents carved into the skin beneath her eyes and the weary way her shoulders curve inward beneath the padding in her suit jacket. “My priorities have just changed. I’m afraid I can’t focus on whatever it is you’re here to do -”

“Assist in the process of recovering from your injury,” he recites quietly.

She blinks, and then shakes her head slightly. “Right. Yes. That. I’m afraid I can’t do that until I find a replacement for my children’s nanny. I think it would be best if you just returned to the hospital for now.”

She starts toward the door, clearly expecting him to follow, but his feet remain planted on the floor. Her gait is uneven - he can see the slight limp on her left side, perhaps a tender knee or hip - and that same strange feeling from the day before is overwhelming in the cavern of his chest once again. “What if I stepped in as a nanny?” he hears himself ask.

Captain Santiago freezes in place, and then slowly turns back to face him, trepidation written as clear as day across her face. “You’re aware of the fact that there are seven of them, correct?”

He nods.

Her brow furrows. “You would be able to properly carry out your duties as a nurse in addition to nannying my children?”

He shrugs. “I don’t imagine the recovery process would be too extensive, since it seems like it’s only your left knee?” He raises his brows and glances at the knee in question.

A look of surprise flashes across her face. “Very observant,” she says, and he gets the feeling that it’s mostly to herself. He doesn’t respond; for a long moment they merely stand staring at each other. “Alright,” she finally says, “I’m willing to give this a try. But the moment the nursing process interferes with my children and their schedule, it’s over, and you will return to the hospital at once. Am I understood?”

He has to resist the urge to salute. “Absolutely, ma’am.” he says instead.

a the good place au (where jake and amy knew each other through competing precincts in the nypd and “hated” each other in life and therefore immediately recognize each other in the after-life):

The Architect takes him to his new home - something tailored specifically for this Other Jake’s tastes, something straight out of his personal nightmares - and he’s really starting to think that he’s going to get away with this. The Architect is showing him the television system and he’s watching point-of-view clips of advocacy works in Uganda and there are fifteen framed paintings of clowns in the corner and someone is knocking on his new front door.

And when the front door opens to reveal the person on the other side, all his hopes of staying are dashed.

Of all the people in the entire universe who could have been assigned to this afterlife neighborhood with him, of all the people in history who could have knocked on his front door, it just had to be Amy freaking Santiago.

She does, for whatever reason, wait to question him until after The Architect is gone.

Jake stalls as long as he can closing that front door, taking care to examine the knob - this big round thing that looks to be artificially rusted, how lame - and when he finally, slowly turns on the spot, she’s standing several paces ahead of him with her arms crossed tight over her chest and her foot tapping impatiently.

And suddenly he realizes that she’s wearing a pantsuit in the afterlife.

“So -”

“Don’t.” she snaps, and he drops his gaze to his feet with a nod. “I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re here, but there’s clearly been a mistake.”

“I could be in The Good Place -” he says indignantly.

“Did you even know you while you were alive? You were the most arrogant, pompous, self-centered and conceited human being I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Oh, please, Santiago. Just because I had a little bit of confidence -”

“I wasn’t finished.” she interrupts sharply, and he rocks backwards to his heels, feeling the door’s cool surface brushing against his shoulders. “All you ever cared about was looking cool and being the best. That’s not confidence, it’s arrogance.”

The all-too-familiar urge to argue with her bubbles up like bitter bile in his throat, but after a moment he feels himself deflating, the fight leaving him all at once. “You’re right,” he shrugs, and if he’s not mistaken there’s surprise cracking through that steely expression on her face. “I mean, the guy - The Architect? - he got my name right, but...that’s it. Those -” he gestures to the television, where the memories are still soundlessly playing on the screen “- are definitely not my memories. He mentioned that I was some kind of death-row lawyer and human rights advocate?”

Amy snorts - clearly in disbelief - but Jake smiles tentatively all the same. “Yeah, that’s obviously incorrect.”

“Here’s the real kicker, though - he said I was also a volunteer firefighter. Can you imagine?”

She pulls a face, laughs a more genuine laugh - and the defensiveness in her eyes diminishes half a degree. And later (much later) he’ll pinpoint this as the moment that hope sparked back to life inside his chest.

#tag game #sorry this got long #anyways thank you again for tagging me #and i'm excited about all the awesome fics coming down the pike from everyone!!!#em speaks #b99 #jake x amy #my b99 fics #sorta

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no-one-hears-me · 5 years ago

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Tell me more about Korn :0 i MUST HEAR UR THOUGHTS

oh boy do I have thoughts!!! and I'm bad at organizing them. I tend to get carried away while writing so this will probably be a long post. also I'm in a very foolish mood 😎

ahhhhh so I don't know what exactly you wanna know or if you like Korn??? also my phone always changes Korn to Morn so I apologize if that happens 😔 okay let's get started!!! so obviously Korn is the greatest band to ever exist - no arguments there whatsoever. The first song I heard was Falling Away From Me and I was interested but lowkey didn't like it a whole lot at first. now, I was very wrong about that, but that's just how I am - it sometimes takes a few listens for me to like a song. In conclusion, Falling Away From Me slaps but I was a fool and missed it initially. but when did I actually like the song?

One summer night, I had fallen asleep while listening to music and woke up in the middle of the night bc it was hot. at the time I woke up, a song had just started and I'm sure you can guess what song it was!!! so I was lying in bed with my blankets now thrown to the side, staring at the ceiling and was like "wow this song is pretty good actually. think I'm gonna play it again" and I knew I should have been asleep but? good song. Now, was it actually hot in my room that night, or is it just that Korn is fire and the heat from their music was radiating onto me?

so at some point, I heard some other songs. Freak On A Leash, Coming Undone, Blind, you know, the popular ones. and they're popular for a reason. But then! I don't remember how, but I heard that there's a Korn song about csa. and, csa victim that I am, what did I do? listened to it, of course! knowing damn well I probably shouldn't lol. I'm posting this on a trauma blog. My followers have also been abused. I don't recommend listening to the song, okay? It's not poetic and filled with metaphors about abuse. It's very direct and straightforward, and also somewhat graphic (especially compared to other songs about abuse, as the other ones I've heard are more poetic about it.) I know that some of my traumatized homies will be negatively affected by the song, so I'm not telling anyone to listen to it.

anyways. Another thing. Korn is a group of men. The song is about male sexual abuse. The other songs I've heard are written about girls and most are written by women as well. which is fine. but I think that male abuse/rape should be talked about more. anyways. I didn't mention it yet but the song is written about the singer's own experiences, it's not a general story or anything. ANYWAYS. Now. Csa victim that I am, I have an unbreakable emotional connection with Korn's music. All csa buddies do. That's just how it works. Also, all of their songs are #relatable bc of it. (no I'm not making any generalizations at all lmao)

one of their songs (Here To Stay) has a line that's like "so I take my face and bash it into a mirror" and you see, when I hear that I'm like "haha yeah same" but other people hear that and are like "WHAT did he just say???" so yeah. childhood trauma allows you understand their music properly 😶 if it's not clear, I say all this jokingly but I am somewhat serious too lol

I have no idea where I'm going with this post. a few months ago (early summer maybe?) I decided to listen to The Serenity of Suffering on repeat for like 2 weeks or something. this is amusing bc the album was released in 2016 but I didn't listen to it on repeat then. Idk why I did so in 2019 either, I was just Feeling It I guess.

I don't know what you wanted me to write asghikhgdaygv and this response is a mess, my bad!!! um. So some of my favorite songs (I'll forget many because I am Stupid) are Falling Away From Me, Coming Undone, Insane, Rotting In Vain, Here To Stay, Somebody Someone, Pretty, Thoughtless, Take Me, Black Is The Soul, Lies, others I'm forgetting idk. Also!!! Their lyrics can be triggering to some people 😬 Korn is kinda known for talking about suicide a lot. and there's definitely more than that. sorry that this response is so unorganized lol, idk what you were asking for so I apologize if this isn't at all what you were hoping to see 😓

#oooh this is long #my bad #I have a Korn tag as well but I don't remember what I posted #I guess I'll add this to it tho???#Korn

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marystudies · 6 years ago

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A LONG ASS LIST OF TIPS FOR HIGH SCHOOL: FRESHMAN TO SENIOR YEAR LETS GO

Disclaimer: This is just from my experience, so these might not all apply to you!

Freshman Year

ok, ok, freshman year can be scary but don’t let that get to you

dont worry about upperclassmen being rude/teasing you

it’ll most likely happen, but I’ve never seen an upperclassman tease a freshman with the intention to really hurt them

one day you’ll be them so dw

on the topic of upperclassmen, make some older friends!!! (through classes, sports, etc.) it’s so nice to have someone give you tips and help you through high school

dont expect your friend group to stay the same lol

BUT ITS A GOOD THING I PROMISE YOU

I was scared of changing my friend group, so even though I wasn’t being treated too well, it wasn’t until senior year when I really made a change and I wish I did it earlier

be open to meeting new people, everyone is scared just like you and looking for more friends

I don’t think its neccessary for freshman to become sUPER involved in clubs and all that but at least get a feel for whats out there

try out for a sport if you play one!

this goes for all of high school, not just freshman year, but I regret not being as involved as I could’ve been

Go to school events like football games and dances! School spirit is considered weird in middle school but its cool in high school

take your classes seriously, your teachers are right - high school is much harder than middle school (but it’s not too bad if you stay organized!)

my freshman year GPA was my lowest like english really caught me off guard (properly formatted, 5 paragraph essays being 50% of your grade??? a concept.)

so my cumulative GPA was brought down

I think most freshman don’t have access to AP classes to boost your GPA or anything, but if you’re looking to push yourself take an honors class or 2! (if available)

Sophomore Year

wooohooo ur no longer a freshman

I’d take at least 1 AP class if you can

my sophomore year I took AP Human Geo - which I really loved, and it also wasn’t too hard

a lot of sophomores take AP World which is a BITCH of a class

BUT I wouldn’t recommend taking Honors World because you don’t get the GPA boost, you don’t get college credits (unless you take the AP Euro test or something), and it’s almost just as hard

this is a bit random - but when you’re taking Algebra 2 (which was my sophomore year) PLS PAY ATTENTION math builds on itself don’t fuck yourself over

take the PSAT if you want (I honestly don’t remember if I took it freshman year too but eh), but seriously its not required

start thinking about college (I know it’s the last thing you want to do)

just little things like

when do I want to take the SAT/ACT?

would I like a small school or a big school?

What will I be able to put on my college applications?

like if you do community service through a club/church/etc then great!!! sports? YEs

can’t think of anything? Join a club! Try out for a sport (it’s not too late) Find something that interests you

you’re probably pretty situated socially now but never be afraid to get to know those classmates/”school friends” better!

Junior Year

so junior year is commonly thought of as the hardest year of highschool

which is partially true (we’ll get there later)

but anyways, seriously buckle your seatbelt and get ready to work your ass off because THIS YEAR COUNTS, LADIES AND GENTS

Take AP classes if available

I took AP Psych (WOULD HIGHLY RECOMMEND) and Honors PreCalc (coming from regular Algebra 2)

Psych gave me college credit and a GPA boost

HPC gave me a GPA boost for UCs

It was a bitCH of a class but it made AP calc a breeze

If you haven’t started already, start prepping for SAT/ACT and then take them

tutoring is very helpful, but it can be expensive

I’ve seen studyblrs post about free prep through Kahn Academy and other stuff, so you might have to do a bit of digging but there are tons of resources out there

TAKE PRACTICE TESTS

take one of each first - then focus on the test you did better on

one of my biggest regrets is taking SAT prep instead of ACT prep because my ACT (which I didn’t do specialized prep for) ended up equivalent to my SAT (which I did prep for)

the more you take em the better you get

Studyblr is gr8 for finding test taking tips

If you’re not happy with your score, just take it again! I only took each one once but most people improve their scores if they take it again

I recommend visiting a few universities when you’re on break! Get a feel for what you like and what you don’t like (size, location, public/private, etc) and what kind of school you could get accepted to

you don’t want to end up applying to a billion schools that you wouldn’t even want to go to

private schools like it when you express interest by visiting

so if you’re visiting, make sure you check in so you can be in their system

END OF JUNIOR YEAR - ASK FOR LETTERS OF REC NOW! BY THE FIRST WEEK OF SENIOR YEAR A LOT OF TEACHERS ARE ALREADY TAKING ON TOO MANY LETTERS!

Senior Year (buckle up this section is the longest)

but YAY UR A SENIOR

DO FUN SENIOR YEAR THINGS like my school has all kinds of events for seniors and it’s so great

Remember when I said junior year is the hardest? Yeah well no... 1st semester senior year is SO MUCH WORSE ur in for a lot of fun

Ok seriously - don’t let senioritis get to you first semester

Still take challenging classes! Schools are looking for progression in difficulty

Those mid year transcripts REALLY DO MATTER!

College apps, man

Make sure you’re communicating with your counselor to make sure you have everything ready and on track

like file the FAFSA and CSS (used for lots of privates)

tbh I didn’t think it would help me a lot but it (the CSS) actually did so just do it even if you think you’ll get nothing

Ok so hopefully at this point you have a feel for what schools you are interested in

Things to consider: location, price, size, public/private, difficulty of the application, ranking, program/major you are applying to, campus, overall vibe

I didn’t do any interviews but maybe look into it

Don’t get too comfortable and set reasonable goals - apply to several safety schools, a few good options/could go either way schools, but also a few “reaches”

ESSAYS

I’m no college counselor, but don’t just wing your essays without having an adult/professional look over them

I got lucky - my mom is a professional writer so my family didn’t pay for a counselor

Do your research - you can find so much information about what schools are looking for in essays

If an essay is “optional” DO IT it’s really not optional lol

Keep in mind - these essays are nothing like what you’ve been taught. You don’t have to (and often SHOULDNT) write a 5 paragraph essay with topic sentences relating back to the thesis and evidence, etc. its much more free

think “What is the story I am going to tell?”

get creative - this is hard and takes some time

Think: How am I going to separate myself from thousands of applicants? What is a story that ONLY I can tell?

DO EARLY ACTION FOR AS MANY SCHOOLS AS POSSIBLE!!!

such a relief to knowing you got in somewhere in like,,,, november

acceptance rates are higher for EA

the order from highest to lowest is ED > EA > RD

Early Decision scares me (schools will say they give equal scholarship consideration but lol thats a lie)

but if you have your heart set on a school go ahead

apply to other school just in case, you don’t want to get stuck starting all your apps when a lot of students have already turned them all in

Now that you’re done with applications (whew), the acceptances (and rejection) will start coming!! yay!

ok first for acceptances

those first acceptances are so cool like YAY YOU GOT INTO COLLEGE IM PROUD OF U

as soon as you get your first acceptances really start researching the school more and deciding if you’d REALLY want to go there or not

i know this is hard bc you haven't heard back from all your schools but it’ll make choosing a school so much easier

sadly, not all acceptances are happy tho

like I got accepted to my #1 school but they gave me no money so it was impossible to go

I was so emo for a couple days there

BUT! If you’re serious about it, try appealing for financial aid but keep your expectations low

ok now waitlists

these can be a bit nerve wracking

PLEASE apply for the waitlist right away

at some schools if you dont within a couple days, your application might get thrown out

aaaaand rejections

i dont have a lot to say about this but please dont be too hard on yourself

sometimes its just not meant to be and thats ok!

NOW PICKING A COLLEGE

def the most difficult and mentally draining part for me lol

make sure you really map out everything to consider

net cost (tuition, room & board, books, travel, personal expenses, etc.), size, location, etc.

I personally had this idea that I’d end up at a big school far from home but I’m going to a small school close to home and I’m still super excited!!! So make sure you give every school a second look

APPLY FOR SCHOLARSHIPS!

the essays aren’t usually too bad and sometimes you can just rework your college app essays

you can find them online, your school might have some (like PTA scholarships, band scholarships, etc.)

ok this is the time everyone really gets senioritis

i almost didn’t get senioritis at all lol just because slacking off stressed me out

but please be smart about it dont get rescinded

and lastly have fun! high school really does fly by, it’ll be over before you know it

#lol the senior year part is so much longer than the others #studyblr #high school #high school tips #study tips #studyspo #study motivation

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marcholasmoth · 5 years ago

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OSRR: 1845

so this brand of mine, it's sort of a brand i guess, is probably just gonna stay my brand, no matter what happens to my activity in the church. i doubt i'll ever be hostile, since people are often kind, but for now i think i'm good with not being a part of it. i just wanna make my own decisions, because of what i want to do, not because of what someone else wants me to do. it's basically me in my "i'll do what i want" stage of life. if at some point, i feel i need it again, then i know where to go. but for now, i'll be in and out of stuff. i know i may be disappointing some f you, and for that i apologize. but i love you all, and i know all of the higher powers in the universe - and the universe itself - love you, and i will be here for you. in the meantime, it may take me a while to extract myself. just so you're aware.

anyway, not the way i expected to start my post. but here it is, my thoughts from the last few months on "paper." i'm fine, nothing is wrong, and it's nobody's fault, but i just want to respect myself enough to make my own decisions and not let someone or something else dictate my choices by guilt or coercion. so yeah. like i didn't go somewhere with my mom because i didn't want to, i'm not gonna do things because other people expect me to. if someone asks me to do something and i do it, it's because i've made that decision myself. that's it. it's time for me to exist as my own person.

anyway, today was good. for the hearing for my ticket, there was a bunch of people with the same hearing time, and we were all waiting to see the prosecutor. there was this one lady... i swear, i almost committed murder today. UGH. her voice was so grating and obnoxious, and the accent she had made it APPARENTLY impossible for her to say things correctly. and??? the line was working just fine before she got there???? but she couldn't figure out that we were going based on the order we arrived in so she went downstairs and got someone to come upstairs and direct people in a line????? and then wOULDNT STOP TALKING ABOUT HOW SHE WAS THE ONE WHO MADE IT ORGANIZED???????? i swear to the high heavens i almost took her grandmotherly life with my bare hands. i texted joel and asked, "if i commit murder while waiting to see the prosecutor, can i talk about it then?" thankfully she stopped talking before i got to turning around with claws bared, so i didn't actually murder anyone today. but yeah, it was a quick in and out with the prosecutor for me - i just explained what the officer told me, pulled out my certificate of completion for the attitudinal driving course from back in may, he took some notes, told me he'd get the case thrown out, and told me to have a nice day. easy peasy.

so i had no ticket and no blood on my hands as i left the courthouse. good times.

after bringing joel home from work, we just cuddled and chilled out for a while. we watched youtube videos, as is common for us, and john made dinner. we went back downstairs and watched a few episodes of suits, and after a bit i had to leave as it was getting late.

but yeah. joel didn't realize until halfway through the last episode we watched that today was the twentieth. he said, "i write dates all the time, and i still didn't-- it's fine, it won't count until like, three years anyway." which is cute. because he's saying he thinks we'll be together for at least three years, which, same. i still have a lot to work through personally, and i think i'll call the doctor tomorrow to see if i can get in sometime soon for a preliminary visit, but once i'm back in therapy, my ability to communicate should improve. i have a hard time talking to him sometimes bc 90% of the things i say aren't funny or relevant or interesting. it's just? stupid things? and that makes me self-conscious. the things i "know" i don't actually know because it's mostly speculation anyway, and it's just. it's frustrating to me that i'm not an interesting enough person to talk to. so i've found that driving is a quiet affair. yeah. i don't even know what to say anyway, because 100% of the "good" things i would say i've already told him.

any suggestions on overcoming that, or other topics to research to have an interesting conversation? what are your favorite things to talk about with the people you care most about? suggestions for overcoming being awkward 150,000% of the time?

#molly rambles #operation srr #osrr #1000s #1800s #sunshine boy #i need Help™

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boobdolan · 6 years ago

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a review of melodrama (2017) by lorde

hey what’s up it’s your boy b-dawg. the b is for boobs as in breasts. this post is a track-by-track review of melodrama, the grammy-nominated sophomore studio album by ella yelich-o’ connor (aka lorde), a new zealand singer-songwriter who likes to dance funny and eat onions. her first album was pure heroine which was pretty big bc i think people (angsty teens) related to her songs about being an angsty teen.

i’m gonna keep it real with you chief. when i first heard green light (the lead single from the album) i thought it was pretty ass. but you know what. i’m an ass man despite my username. so eventually by some karmic circumstance i was reintroduced to the album and i realised: “hey! this is pretty dope! 😎” and then i ended up writing a 4000-word extended essay on it for the IB. but that’s another story.

green light is also the first track on the album, and it’s a hella effective one. with its intro bringing listeners acapella ella™️ over sparse piano chords, it kicks open the door to the sound of melodrama and immediately subverts any expectations for a pure heroine 2.0. as the song progresses we get additional elements of new and old - the boom-bap drums recall the hip-hop influences that permeated pure heroine, while her high-pitched backing vocals in the chorus introduce listeners to new vocal stylings from a singer who was previously known for being a Cool Bean who was Too Cool for all that stuff.

as the maximalist bop green light ends, listeners are thrown even further away from the sound of pure heroine with sober. personal note: sober was the song i most liked on the album upon first listen. and I can see why. it’s because i’ve got good taste! from the spacey uber-processed backing vocals to the bongo beat to the horns in the chorus, the song’s really unlike much else in the pop scene today. i especially like the “night, midnight, lose my mind” intro because when i first heard it i was like “wtf???? cool 🤠” anyway, point is, ella and her bf did well on this track.

at this point one might think, “this girl has a thing for acapella intros to her songs”. and she does! homemade dynamite starts, like an action movie, in situ, with its musings about top gun and the house party that the album is conceptually based around. one thing i love about the song is its synths. the 80s inspiration is obvious, with the synth pad emulating the iconic Fairlight sound on kate bush’s running up that hill. however, the moodiness of the synth pad is contrasted with a sprightly riff that comes in every now and then, emphasising that Potent Teenage Mix of Emotions™️ that the album is focused around. lorde also uses contrast in her lyrics, pairing wordy, literary, stream-of-consciousness style verses with almost childish phrases like “know I think you’re awesome, right???” it’s things like this that really encapsulate the state of being teenaged to me - that uncertain transitional period between adolescence and adulthood.

the following song starts with a very indie-sounding guitar, which is an unconventional sound for a lorde song. but the louvre is so typically lordey in that it shows off one of her greatest skills - the ability to create memorable, quotable lines with unique phrasing. who else would think of stammering the line “i overthink your punctuation use”?? who else would think of using a spoken “broadcast the boom boom boom boom and make ‘em all dance to it” as a hook??? another thing of note in this song is its extended U2-esque instrumental outro, courtesy of jack antonoff. sometimes when i listen to it, i understand why ella is banging him.

jack then mumbles the intro to the next song and starts playing the piano. after a few bars, ella joins him and her voice basically has sex with his tinkling on the ivories. liability is objectively great. lyrically, she reaches mind-bending extremes that many of her contemporaries can only dream of achieving. there’s a verse where she goes “home, into the arms of the girl that [she] loves” which is very interestingly constructed - it hits listeners with the initial shock of “oh wait is ella coming out” and just Leaves It for a few lines. and theN BOOM!!!! she’s actually talking about herself. that’s pretty cool. one other thing is her rhyme scheme in the line “the truth is, i am a toy that people enjoy ‘til all of their tricks don’t work anymore” which has a devastating effect that always gets me, even though it greatly takes advantage of her bananies voice.

now the listener is halfway through the album, and at this point they’re likely as hard as the feelings in the title of the next song. hard feelings/loveless brings us back into the world of electronic drums and synths after the minimalism of liability, and it does so excellently, providing an ambient atmosphere with its muffled beat and echoey distorted guitar. this song used to be one of my least favourites on the album because I thought the L O V E L E S S chant in the second part sounded kinda dumb and edgy. but then i watched lorde’s performance of the song for VEVO and ?????? WtF????? it really shines with a small choir and a boombox. fantastic. i also appreciate the little paul simon sample that bridges the two parts together - it’s a rare example of lorde wearing her influences on her sleeve for this album. also paul simon is one cool mf. i pop my pussy to graceland 24/7. 😎👌

taking a note from jack antonoff’s albums, the next song is a reprise, which have been used by many artists after the beatles to say “hey look my album is cohesive!” even though the only reason why it’s cohesive is because it’s cohesively shit. that’s not the case with sober II (melodrama), which functions as a response to the first sober. the parent song’s repeated calls of “can you feel it?” are immediately countered in sober II’s first line: “you asked if i was feeling it, i’m psycho high”. that’s cool because it reinforces the house party concept of the album. however, while i think the strings and trap drums combo sounds cool on paper, this production choice is the album’s first misstep because it sounds like jack put together 2 apple loops on garageband that didn’t quite fit.

luckily, before lorde turns into one of the migos, we’re treated with another piano song - writer in the dark. a word about lorde’s vocal performance in this song: WOW!!!!!!!!!! 😃😃😃 good stuff! in the verses, her raspy, imperfect voice highlights the intimacy and personal nature of the lyrics. in the chorus, she double tracks her voice and sings with a more round tone, which gives the eerie effect of sounding a bit like kate bush. it’s ok. i’m a bush man too. jack does a little production trick in the outro where ella sings the hook progressively louder as he fades out her vocal and lets the song be overtaken by strings. while it’s cool, i feel like he quite obviously snagged it from the outro of david bowie’s “heroes”, where a similar trick was achieved by the production god brian eno. jack then did it again on the song slow disco by st. vincent later in the year. side note: i’m still kinda pissed about what he did to st. vincent’s masseduction. more on that another time.

the next song, which should’ve been a single, features the metaphor of a supercut. i’m not sure how i feel about that because, on one hand, the term feels very millennial, like a better-written version of katy perry’s save as draft. you know what i mean? like those songs that aged fast - crazy in love with its pager reference, and payphone with its..... payphone reference. on the other hand, a supercut is pretty timeless, as montages have been used in cinema since the french first figured out how to make moving pictures. and the word sounds cool, so it’s ok i guess. but that’s beside the point. the song’s really nice, with some very interesting moments. one notable instance is lorde’s phrasing and the instrumentation in the prechorus - “in your car, the radio on”. the instrumentation just stops for a beat after ella sings the line, in a genius move that makes the song Even More Boppable!!. another moment is how the beat changes during the final choruses - from mellow, with her voice sounding like it’s coming out of a cassette player, to full, regaining all the instrumentation of the original choruses. then the song ends with a weird echoey vocal outro that’s a fantastic moment for me, especially after the intensity of the final choruses. boner time!!!!! 😃 one last cool thing about the song is that i feel the line “so I fall into continents and cars” is an Excessively paul simon thing to say. it’s one of those abstract things that just sounds GREAT, like “fat charlie the archangel sloped into the room” from his song crazy love, part II.

speaking of part twos, the end of supercut transitions into the bassy, atmospheric synths of liability (reprise). unfortunately, i still haven’t gotten round to fully appreciating this song. to me, it’s the biggest misstep on melodrama. don’t get me wrong - it’s a nice enough song, it’s really chill, but it feels slight because of its association to the majestic, melodic liability. apart from their lyrics, there’s not much that links the two. i feel that liability needed no reprise; it’s a work that stands on its own. i felt the same way about yandhi when kanye west announced it. yeezus doesn’t need another album associated to it! it’s perfection by itself. also, someone pointed out that the drums on liability (reprise) are the same as those on taylor swift’s call it what you want, and the last time taylor and jack screwed up a great indie artist’s work was fast slow disco, which we don’t talk about in this house.

finally, we come to the end of lorde’s house party with perfect places. and what a brilliant ending it is. there’s something so stirring about the drum beat, with its crunchy, decisive snare. there’s something equally moving about the synths and chord progression in the chorus, which give me chills like loud organs echoing in a church. when put together, they sound industrial, menacing, as if they move into your soul and alienate you from your own body. but at the same time, they’re an emotional release, a source of comfort like bruce springsteen’s cathartic 70s and 80s albums. another cathartic element - the use of the word “fuck” in the chorus. i could write a whole essay on it tbh. to me, it represents an intensely freeing release of the bad vibes and negativity in one’s life - for lorde, perhaps, her failed relationship and the state of the world in 2016. you know how studies have shown that when you shout “FUCK!!!!😡😡” after hitting your toe on furniture, it helps ease the pain? it’s like that. so while saying something taboo on the record is such an edgy angsty teenage thing to do, but also reflects lorde’s release from her pain. or maybe i’m reading too much into it.

the album ends as it begins, with ella’s bare vocals, reminding us that she is once again the Queen of Indie Pop. overall, melodrama gets a

9/10

for being really cool. peace out bitches. 🤠

#lorde #melodrama #review #music #music review #album #album review

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danyka-fendyr · 7 years ago

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Scar Tissue Chapter 1: Gotham at Fight

A/N: The name is a pun off of “Gotham at Night.” I’m tagging @writingtheworks bc...well, she asked to be tagged. This is meant to be a full-length fic, and this first chapter is just to kind of give people a taste of what’s to come. Enjoy!

The air over the city buzzed, hot and heavy like the rain pelting down through the night. Even in the dead of summer, it still rained in Gotham. If New York was the city that never slept, Gotham was the city where the sun never shone.

Jason looked over at the girl crouching on a gargoyle next to him, her cape fluttering behind her, a wash of darkness fading into Gotham’s sky. He could still remember when Bruce had brought her home. It was the tail-end of his first year of being Robin, and he had been offended by her existence. It was only natural, of course. He had been training, had earned his way here. She was only a little girl with a tiny, quaking frame, drenched in rain like she was tonight. She was quivering, curled in on herself and unsure, black hair slicked down to her head and dripping water. Defying all of this, her eyes glowed the brightest green Jason had ever seen. It was unearthly almost, the way they cut through him like knives, hesitant and afraid, but also curious and sharp.

Jason had to admit that a lot had changed in the 3 years he had known her. She had gotten taller, for one. Had filled out some, thanks to the regular food she was provided with. Jason told himself that it was only the food causing her to fill out, and that there had been no other changes, even if the Batgirl suit was skintight. Her sharp elbows and knobby knees had turned into softer, rounder edges, but Jason knew better than to mistake her for being soft. Maybe some other girl, but not his Rorie.

He winced at the possessive note in his thoughts, brushing it aside. It was true. She was his Batgirl, just like Barbara had been Dick’s. That was all there was to it. And if maybe he was falling in love with her a little, well, Dick had done that with Barbara too, so Jason reasoned that would probably be fine as well. He wasn’t, but if he was.

Her hair fluttered in the wind, inky strands reaching out towards the twinkling stars. When another dark haired child arrived at Wayne Manor, Alfred had wasted no time in making a joke about how if Bruce wasn’t careful he’d end up with a collection. Jason scoffed at the idea that any kind of trend would start with that. Clearly more than just hair color went into choosing a Robin.

“Where to next, Boy Wonder?” she waggled her eyebrows teasingly, interrupting his thoughts.

Thunder cracked across the sky, and a grin cracked across her face. Rorie had always like thunderstorms, crazy and wild just like her. One time, in the first few months she had been at Wayne manor, Jason had found her standing underneath a tree in the middle of a storm, arms thrown wide as she basked in the chaos. Jason had quickly yanked on a jacket, rushing out to scold her and explain the probability that she would be struck by lightning. She had turned up her tiny, sharp little face to him, and said, “Huh.”

Suffice it to say, she had not moved a muscle until the storm was over. Jason nearly had a panic attack the whole time, but he also wasn’t a snitch. Either Bruce hadn’t known, or he hadn’t bothered to go out and save her. Either way, she came back inside later, much to Jason’s relief.

“Your call,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

“We could visit that bakery on the upper east side,” she sing-songed suggestively, hopping off the gargoyle and shimmying over next to him.

“We could.” He continued to stare impassively out at the city.

“Hey!” she pouted. “You said it was my call!”

There was a beat of silence.

“Fine. We hit the lower east side, see if there’s any scum there by any chance, and then we visit the bakery.” She said it like the matter was already decided, not like she was offering a truce.

“Deal,” Jason said anyway.

“Yay!” she lurched forward, wrapping her arms around Jason’s neck, fingers grabbing handfuls of his cape as she teetered from the strain of reaching to his greater height. She was by no means short, but neither was Jason.

His hands reached around her waist to support her, and he laughed into her ear.

“Careful Batgirl. You’ll hurt yourself before tonight’s thugs have any chance.”

She pulled away, rolling her eyes, but she still bounced on the heels of her boots.

There was a rustle and she stilled, narrowing her eyes. Jason looked over their heads, finding the Batman himself hovering in that brooding manner he always had when the cowl was on.

“I see you two were productive while I was gone.”

If you looked carefully, you could detect an undertone of humor in his voice.

“Yes, we were. We decided where to head next for you,” Rorie piped up, hands on her hips in an ironically Superman-esque pose.

Clark would be proud when Jason told him later.

“Oh? Where to then?” Batman did not sound unskeptical.

Jason said, “Lower east side,” at the same time she said, “Cookies!”

“Those are in opposite directions,” Bruce pointed out.

“Not if we hit the lower east side first and then head toward cookies,” Rorie reasoned.

“That would still put them in opposite directions,” Jason piped up.

“Hey! I thought you were on my side!” She elbowed him, hard.

“I’m on nobody’s side,” Jason teased. “I’m a rogue. An outlaw!”

She giggled, and Jason could swear he saw Bruce roll his eyes behind the mask. Then again, maybe it was just a trick of the light.

“Well, this outlaw still has an hour of patrol left. Patrol first, then cookies,” Bruce said.

“So we are getting cookies?” Rorie gasped.

“I’ll think about it.”

Before he could say anything else, Rorie was launching herself off the edge of the building, grappling her way over to the lower east side. Jason ran after her, and Bruce sighed before shaking his head and following suit.

“So, that was nothing short of awesome!” Rorie said, looking up at Jason in awe, a wide grin plastering her face.

Jason felt the hot blush sweep across his cheeks, but he told himself it was only from the post-patrol excitement. Never mind that he was already chewing on a cookie in the kitchen of Wayne Manor and his adrenaline had sufficiently disappeared.

“Wasn’t anything special,” he said, mouth full of chocolate chip.

“Are you kidding me? You totally saved me.” She giggled, half-nervous and half-gleeful, still coming down from the near-death experience high.

“You would have done the same for me.” He shrugged.

“Nah,” she joked. “I would have just let you die.”

“Heartless.”

She hugged him again, still wobbling. Jason wondered if there would ever be a time when she wouldn’t wobble or have to reach up on her toes to hug him in this most impractical of ways, arms wrapped around his neck and face painfully close to his own.

“Thank you, Robin,” her voice was softer, the joking tone gone.

She sounded tired, something Jason could relate to. She also sounded grateful, like she knew just how dangerous the metal bat zeroing in on her face had been. Jason watched it replay in his head again for a moment, her body there on the ground, the gang banger poised to ram the end of his bat down into her head, wild with whatever drug had been in his system.

She pulled back, and Jason felt something soft against his cheek. Her lips, feather light, pressing against him, her eyelashes fluttering against his temple. Jason’s hands seized up around her waist, his heart going almost faster than it had been beating the crap out of that thug.

She turned to walk away, presumably to go to her own room and sleep in her own bed, but Jason stopped her.

“Hey Rorie?” She paused. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She turned around, giving him a shaky smile.

“Yeah. It’s not the first time, right?”

“Doesn’t have to be the first time.” Jason frowned. “You wanna be alone?”

She paused for a moment, deliberating. Jason knew what that meant.

“You could always come sleep in my room, if you wanted.” He said it casually, easing her pride into the idea.

“I mean, I guess if you’d be alright with it.” She shrugged, traipsing off to her room to grab some pajamas.

When she came back, she looked, in a word, cozy. She was wearing her comfort pajamas, and she looked 5 minutes away from stress baking and stress eating while the cookies were in the oven. What? Jason was a detective, he noticed things.

Her thick, fuzzy pants and oversized flannel top hung loosely off of her frame, and when she smiled Jason could see the tops of her retainer. Bruce’s wealth and social standing had provided her with a set of designer teeth, but they did not come without a certain amount of maintenance.

“You wanna watch a movie?” she asked.

“We have school tomorrow,” Jason pointed out.

She groaned. “Please don’t remind me.”

“You like school.” Jason laughed.

“Yes, but you know what I don’t like? Waking up. And you know what I have to do for school? Wake up.”

“You would sleep forever if you could,” Jason teased, slinging his arm over her shoulder as they headed down the plush carpeted halls of the manor to his room.

“I like sleep,” she whined, leaning into him.

“Then why did you volunteer for a job that keeps you up all night?”

“Well once I’m awake there are so many distracting things to keep me awake. I like being asleep, but I don’t like actually going to sleep. An object in motion tends to stay in motion, Jay-bird.”

“Whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes.

Jason opened the door to his room, and Rorie snickered.

“What?” Jason asked, confused.

“I forgot you were like this,” she teased.

“Like what?” He was seriously lost here.

She gestured to his room. Jason couldn’t see anything wrong with it. The bed was made, sheets crisp and clean, not a wrinkle to be seen, and all his clothes and other various belongings were off the floor and in their proper places. His music was neatly stored off to the side, organized alphabetically by artist for ease of access, and his books were stored alphabetically on his bookshelves by author. It was flawless. What could her problem possibly be?

“You’re so clean cut!” she giggled, bursting into laughter. “You don’t even realize what a classic good boy you are Jason Todd.”

“I am not!” he protested, even as her crouched body grew concerningly nearer to the floor.

If she started rolling on the floor laughing, Jason was convinced he would suffer the ultimate humiliation.

“You get straight-A’s, you’re a complete nerd for Shakespeare, and I’m calling it now, you’re going to audition for the school play. Also, you spend your spare time stopping evil. Goody-two-shoeeeesss,” she sang.

“I hate you. So, so much.” Jason sighed, her teasing relentless.

“Gosh,” she said, her apple green eyes locking with his own, “I love you Jason Todd.”

Jason gasped, quiet and almost imperceptible. The way she said it was so raw, so truthful. The most casual thing, hitting him like a 50 lb weight landing square on his heart.

“I love you too,” he whispered to her back while she crawled into his bed, peeking out from under the teal comforter.

“You coming?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t be a bed hog, okay?” he said, pulling his own pajamas out of the drawer.

“Never fear. You should know by now, boy detective. I am a cuddler, not a bed hog,” she informed him as he headed to the bathroom to change.

When Jason came back, she was once again sober and solemn. Her eyes were dark and clouded, filled with all of her thoughts. Jason walked slowly, as though he were approaching a wounded animal. She didn’t hesitate, though. She reached out her arms towards him, and he fell into them, hugging her tightly as Gotham’s dark night sky wrapped around their consciousness like a blanket.

“I’m tired, Jay,” she whispered.

“I know. Go to sleep Rorie. It’ll be better in the morning,” he told her.

Jason knew he was lying. He knew the city would still be bursting at the seams with crime in the morning, dotted with seeds of people willing to murder teenage girls in one overripe sewer of a city, and the sun rising wouldn’t change anything about that. Jason knew the city better than anyone else in this family, and he knew it would not be better in the morning.

But this was Gotham, and sometimes lies were necessary if you wanted to make it through the night.

#scar tissue #jason todd #jason todd x oc #batman #batfamily #gotham

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multi-fan-dom-madness · 3 years ago

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I posted 291 times in 2021

7 posts created (2%)

284 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 40.6 posts.

I added 153 tags in 2021

#star wars - 41 posts

#bad batch - 19 posts

#history - 16 posts

#writing is hard - 14 posts

#marvel - 12 posts

#lotr - 12 posts

#art - 11 posts

#fanart - 10 posts

#video - 9 posts

#tfatws - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#like the ridicule and scoffing at experts when it is in fact the viewer who has an inaccurate mental conception of how the thing works

My Top Posts in 2021

nicolas cage is singlehandedly responsible for my history career and i think about this every day

20 notes • Posted 2021-08-09 00:46:48 GMT

no bc hera made the ghost scramble its signature with the knowledge tech gave her 🥺

43 notes • Posted 2021-07-17 02:38:45 GMT

Miscommunication

93 notes • Posted 2021-08-02 20:21:38 GMT

She Knows (And I Know She Knows)

Pairing: Crosshair x afab!reader

Type: One-shot

Word Count: 774

Warnings: pure angst; vague mention of war crimes if you squint; failed/failing relationship; post-episode 15; bad writing and not proofread; she/her pronouns for reader [if I missed any let me know!]

A/N: Wrote and posted this in less than an hour while I was still feeling the angst. Loosely inspired by the way the chorus of “She Knows” by J. Cole makes me feel [broody, melancholic]. This is Very Vague and Poorly Thrown Together. Thanks for reading anyways.

Summary: Crosshair isn’t the same man he once was. He won’t stop you from leaving, knowing it’s for the best.

Crosshair can’t shake the shadowy pit in his stomach. It’s been plaguing him for days, maybe weeks now. Still unsure where it’s coming from, he chews the end of his toothpick. Splinters stab at his tongue. He can’t find it in himself to care. Outwardly, he knows, he’s the picture of composure, body slung over the seat, arms crossed lazily over his chest, head leaning back against the headrest, eyes shut. To all the world, asleep. But his eyes are cracked just enough to watch you work.

He isn’t sure when the pit in his stomach had started, exactly, or why, but every time you turn his way, it deepens just a little bit more. There’s a subtle hardness to your usual sparkling eyes, a drawing shut of curtains against an impending storm; a permanent down-tilt of your lips; a shaking in your usually steady hands as you busy yourself with meaningless projects, organizing and reorganizing med supplies, spare parts, laundry, anything you could think to get your hands on. You’ve withdrawn. Maybe not intentionally, or maybe not as much as you meant, but he feels the gulf growing between you the same as he feels that yawning darkness in him digging deeper.

She knows.

The thought strikes him as casually, as thunderously, as a blaster bolt to the chest. If he wasn’t so practiced in maintaining his facade, he’d have gasped, air strangled in his throat. As it is, he can’t help the way his breathing stills, every muscle tensing as minutely as he dares. Of course. He had been so blind to this point. Willfully blind, even.

How did you know? His time with the Empire... He hadn’t even spoken to Hunter about everything he’d done yet. His brothers knew what they had witnessed personally—and you’d been clear that you forgave him for those parts, the parts you’d seen, experienced, lost sleep over. But the rest?

He shifts in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable, plastoid armor restricting and suffocating like it has never been before. Crosshair has never been one for remorse, for second-guessing, for idle what-ifs. But when you glance at him again, a spare moment in between projects, he squirms, facade broken. His eyes flutter open to meet yours, head-on, a confrontation days in the making and he hadn’t even realized it was supposed to be a confrontation. But the slumping of your shoulders, the crumpling of your expression into profound exhaustion—it’s too much for him. The pit sinks lower, and a half-choked apology dies on his lips.

She knows.

You turn away as he stands. The ship is too small, nowhere for either of you to hide. He should have seen this coming. The way you weren’t sleeping with him anymore, instead choosing to pass out, head on your arms, in front of the data center. The nearly imperceptible flinching away whenever he approached you. He isn’t sure how, but you’d found out. Maybe it was his own silence, the nightmares that stalked his sleeping hours and kept him up just as late as your anxiety did you. The tears that he knew stained his pillowcase every time he woke.

No, he hadn’t shared the horrors he’d committed, but you knew him well enough to know.

And I know she knows.

“y/n...”

“Don’t.” The word is no more than a whisper, but he staggers back anyways. “I... I can’t. So please. Don’t.”

“I can’t either.” He hears the words more than he says them. They’re not the words he wants. What he wants is to hold you again, make things up to you, have you by him—with him—again. But he knows these are the words he needs. It’s not so much that he can’t, it’s that he won’t. Won’t struggle under the weight of his memories. Won’t let you suffer for him. Won’t accept forgiveness because he knows it will never be complete.

“So I guess we’re in agreement.”

Crosshair gazes helplessly down at his feet. The pit in him threatens to engulf him now, his entire being, swallow him up whole and drown him in darkness.

You shake your head at his silence. “I know, Cross. And it’s... well, it’s not okay. But I’ll make it easier for you. You’ll never—” your voice breaks “—you’ll never have to see me again. Just as soon as we’re planetside.”

You brush past him, eyes shining not with the affection he’s so used to seeing there, but with unspilled tears, a matching set to the ones blurring his vision. He doesn’t stop you. Can’t, won’t stop you. He deserves this, he thinks, this and worse.

And he knows you know.

101 notes • Posted 2021-08-10 16:25:11 GMT

Bad Batch - Love Languages

536 notes • Posted 2021-07-12 22:16:01 GMT

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