#This is too long

[uselesseaweedbrain]

Supercorptober - 12. Pine

Kara had had a really good day. She had lost a milk tooth - a canine, her parents had told her - and her parents had celebrated with her and bought her a cake and raved about how fast she was growing, and Kara was happy and peaceful when they kissed her goodnight.

But the next day, when Kara woke up, and headed to the kitchen, she found it unsurprisingly empty, save for Rosa, her parents’ maid. Rosa smiled at her gently as she informed her that her parents had left early in the morning on an urgent trip to Sydney.

Kara smiled back, but barely touched her breakfast cake, setting it back in the fridge, and hugging Rosa briefly before setting off to her favourite refuge - Rosa would know where to find her.

Third book of her borrowed pile in hand, she skipped over to the shade of a centenary pine tree and made to settle contentedly in her assigned spot, when-

Kara stopped dead in her tracks. 

There, against the darkened and scarred trunk, exactly in Kara’s usual spot, was a tiny dark-haired girl, face shielded by a curtain of raven hair and head buried in a book big enough to cover her small legs.

The girl hadn’t seemed to notice Kara’s examination, so Kara elected not to bother her with introductions, settling quietly opposite her on the other side of the trunk.

When Rosa came to get her, the raven-haired girl had long vanished, and Kara felt a strange sense of disappointment.

But Sydney was far, and Kara’s parents were busy, so Kara returned to the park the following day, and the day after, and the day after the day after, and- the girl would always be there, as if waiting for Kara to make an appearance.

It took almost a week for Kara to gather the courage to introduce herself. The sun had partly hidden behind the clouds, peeking out slightly from the cover as Kara approached anxiously, fidgeting with the hem of her Majorette T-shirt.

When Kara deemed herself close enough, she opened her mouth hesitantly, unsure of how to break the ice.

“Hi”,  she said at last.

No response.

Kara took a few steps closer, lightly grazing the girl’s shoulder in an attempt to catch her attention.

“Hi?”, Kara tried again.

The girl jumped in surprise, prompting Kara to apologise immediately.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, I-“

The girl raised her head slowly, and Kara’s rambling stopped abruptly.

The girl was young - so young, in fact, that had she not been reading War Horse, a book without any illustrations, Kara would have believed she was only looking at the pictures.

“I- you-“ 

The girl’s green eyes twinkled as she smiled shyly, rising from her seated position and brushing off strands of grass from her skirt.

“It’s fine. I was just surprised. I’m Lena.” 

She offered her hand in greeting, and Kara took it with a grin. 

“Nice to meet you, Lena. I’m Kara.”

That was all Kara learnt about Lena for quite a while; silence their welcome companion as the both of them spent hours back to back, then side by side, reading under the shade.

If Kara was intrigued by Lena’s fulgurant intelligence, she kept it to herself, and Lena was content to exist alongside her, occasionally exchanging book suggestions and literary impressions.

Time and familiarity loosened their tongues, book conversations leading to tidbits about their lives - about Lena’s single mother, her amazing soda bread, the smell of cooked breakfast when Lena woke up and the scented hugs when she came back from school (Kara knew Lena was four, hadn’t needed Lena to tell her that she had skipped a year already, if not two), and, in turn, about Kara’s parents, their overflowing love leaving her empty every time they took off again without warning or explanation.

Before either girl knew it, a year had passed. Kara had Rosa and Lena, Lena had her mom and Kara, and, for the both of them - that was more than enough.

**************************************************************************************************

One day, Kara skipped to their tree in excitement, relishing the feeling of the sun on her skin and the promise of Lena’s company, and found the pine shade empty.

Days like that happened, rarely, but they did, so Kara swallowed her disappointment, and quietly read by herself for an hour before departing for home.

The second day, Kara sprinted to the tree as soon as the school bell sounded, eager to meet with her friend after her unexpected absence.

Lena wasn’t there that day either, and something cold twisted in Kara’s gut. Unwilling to jump to conclusions, Kara resolved to stop by Lena’s house the day after, persuaded that Lena would show (Lena always showed) and that she wouldn’t have to make the trip.

The day after was a Wednesday, so neither Kara nor Lena had school. 

Rosa was used to Kara almost waking her up on Wednesdays, planting a kiss on her cheek at the crack of dawn before rushing to her favourite tree. 

On that Wednesday, however, it was well after ten when Rosa found the simple breakfast she had made untouched on the table, Kara’s bedroom door resolutely closed.

Rosa knocked gently on the child’s door. “Kara? Are you awake? Do you need anything?”

Kara opened the door and walked back to her bed sluggishly, managing a weak smile in Rosa’s direction. 

“I’m fine, I’m sorry I worried you, Rosa.”

“But- why aren’t you at the park?”

“I- It’s just- the past two days, Lena wasn’t there, and I convinced myself it was nothing and she would be here today, but if she’s not-“

Rosa sat calmly on the right side of the bed, embracing Kara's shoulders in a side hug. 

“Look, cariña. I understand that you are worried, but two days are nothing, okay? Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe Lena has been incredibly busy. Maybe she’s waiting for you under that tree as we speak, and you’re wasting time sitting on this bed with me.”

This drew a small chuckle from Kara.

“The point is, you will never know until you go, and if she’s not there, I will come check on her with you, okay?”

“You will?”

“Of course, cariña. I can come to the park with you, too, if you’d like?”

Kara nodded shyly before burying herself in Rosa’s arms, and soon enough they were both outside, Kara’s hand securely in Rosa’s and a renewed spring in her step.

As they drew closer, Kara’s grip on Rosa’s hand tightened. It was past eleven, the sun was high in the sky and the park was crawling with people, and yet- 

There was no one under the tree.

Kara felt her heart beat out of her chest and Rosa squeezed her hand understandingly, pulling Kara away from the pine and in the direction of Lena’s house.

The path to Lena’s mother humble cottage was a narrow, sinuous road that went through the woods and around a small lake, leading them to a simple wooden and brick house covered in decorative foliage and strings of lights, with a rocking chair on the porch and a welcoming doormat with the print of a dog.

At least, that had been Kara’s impression the previous times she had been around.

Because the house that she reached, hand in hand with Rosa, was surrounded in police tape, the vegetation around it trampled by multiple vehicles, the openings taped shut and the lights ominously off.

Crime scene. The tape read. Do not cross. 

Kara ignored them as she dropped Rosa’s hand, yelling Lena’s name and banging at the front door desperately when it refused to open. The porch lights shouldn’t have been off, they were never off, even when Elisabeth Walsh was out, and despite her neighbours’ jokes about electricity consumption. 

And Lena should have been home with her mother, or at the park with Kara, but she wasn’t, she wasn’t, and the police tape, and the trampled plants-

Kara was still banging on the door, her voice hoarse, when Rosa took her hand once again and gently guided her back to the city, explaining soothingly that they would visit the police station, understand what was happening, that it would be fine, that it would be OK.

They arrived at the police station, and waited, behind a woman worried about her missing cat, patiently and anxiously anticipating their turn.

Their turn came and Kara wished it hadn’t - Rosa, the adult, did all the talking, but Kara heard - accident, drowned, orphaned-

“Yes, the little Lena was adopted-“

“A rich American family-“

“A philanthropist, I heard, or a guilty lover-“

“She left on a plane this morning.”

And Kara crumbled.

She would have tried to find Lena, but the policeman hadn’t given up the adoptive family’s name, claiming they wanted to keep the whole thing under wraps and their identity confidential.

The internet did not exist, and phone calls on the other side of the ocean were expensive and pointless - she didn’t know Lena’s address, wasn’t sure anyone would answer even if she did.

**************************************************************************************************

Years passed and the ache dulled and Kara grew into herself - making new friends at school and cherishing her parents and cultivating her relationship with Rosa.

She was happy, she thinks; until that, too, slipped between her fingers.

Kara was thirteen when it happened - she came home from the park, her back aching from the bench she’d finished her book on (the pine tree was for her and Lena, and she hadn’t enjoyed its shade since Lena had left).

Kara let herself in, removing her shoes at the door before heading down the corridor into the kitchen - her growth spurt left her feeling famished most of the time, and Rosa was an extraordinary cook from whom Kara stole food more often than not.

The kitchen was empty, Rosa nowhere to be seen, the pans untouched.

Kara frowned, spotted a light in the living room and headed there assuredly. 

“Rosa?” Kara called as she walked in. “Is everything ok?“

Rosa was sitting on the couch, opposite a policeman in uniform, who occupied Kara’s father’s armchair as if he belonged there.

“Kara,” Rosa breathed tiredly. “Come sit.”

Kara sat gingerly next to Rosa, awaiting the news like a sentenced prisoner.

“What is it, Rosa? Has something happened? Is it my parents?”

The policeman nodded gravely and Rosa squeezed her hand. 

“I’m afraid your parents died in an accident, Miss. The car they were assigned malfunctioned, so they climbed into another one, and- it was booby-trapped. There were no survivors, not even the driver. My deepest condolences.”

The information reached Kara, but it didn’t - she knew her parents’ job was dangerous, knew there was a risk - now was not the time to grieve, and Kara buried her pain and focused.

“What will happen to me? To Rosa?”

“This is part of what I came here to discuss. Miss Rosa will be paid for the remainder of the year, and will then be let go as per your parents instructions, with a generous severance package. As for you, Miss Kara - your parents have included an emergency contact in their will - someone they entrusted you with, should something happen to them. I have called him, and he should be arriving tomorrow morning. His name is Clark Kent. He lives in Metropolis, and he is your cousin.”

“Metropolis? In America?”

The policeman inclined his head. “Yes. Your parents have arranged for you to move with him to America. I know this is a big change, but everything here will be taken care of - the house here is in your name, and will officially become your property when you turn eighteen. In the meantime, they believed it better for you to stay with family.”

Kara scoffed - tears and rage swirling as they threatened to engulf her. “Rosa is my family. Ireland is my country. I don’t even know this cousin - I don’t want to go to America live with a stranger, I don’t- my life is here!”

The policeman’s lips thinned in sympathy, but he said nothing.

“Mr. Kent should arrive tomorrow morning - be sure to pack your belongings, your flight to Metropolis has been booked by the lawyers for next Wednesday, at 9:15. My condolences again, Ms. El. Ms. Rosa.”

He bowed his head and exited the house, as if the roof had not just fallen over Kara’s head, as if her world hadn’t just crumbled around her, the floor been pulled from under her feet.

Clark arrived the following morning, as foretold, and Kara hated him immediately, hated the pleasantries he offered, the attempts at empathising as a fellow orphan when he had been adopted as a baby - hated the condescension with which he explained that he couldn’t stay in Ireland, that he had a job, that he couldn’t uproot his entire life, and that it was better Kara come with him instead.

Kara did not have a choice, so she packed, and she went, and after a few days of living with Clark and meeting Lois, his fiancee, and maybe feeling the slightest bit at home, Clark dropped another bomb on her.

“Kara, I would like you to meet the Danvers. They’re a family of two parents and a single daughter, slightly older than you, and they’re willing to adopt- Lois and I- we’re not a family unit, we work too much, and I want you to have the same chance I had, to grow with two loving parents, and a stable home, not on the run with me chasing a story (Clark was a journalist, working at the Daily Planet, Kara knew, because Clark blabbed about it all the time). They are coming this afternoon, and- I hoped you would consider it.”

“Consider what?”

“That- uh- that, maybe, if you would want to live with them instead?”

And Kara wanted to yell, to make Clark ashamed of himself, to beg to go back to Ireland and be allowed to live with Rosa, but she was numb, and tired, and Clark didn’t want her, so-

“Ok. I’ll consider it.”

The Danvers were kind, welcoming, and accommodating. Their daughter, Alex, was not. 

Months passed with Alex giving Kara the cold shoulder, and Kara crying herself to sleep - and then Jeremiah died, a heart attack, they’d said, and Kara knew how to grieve and Alex didn’t.

So Kara had taught her.

Years passed and the pain dulled once again to a tolerable ache, Kara’s resentment for Clark tempered by Eliza’s gentleness and Alex’s precious - if sometimes annoying - sisterly presence.

**************************************************************************************************

Investigative journalism was a pain, Kara thought. She knew Lionel Luthor was a snake, was certain of his involvement in weapons companies, had tracked his investments in the prison system and drawn a parallel timeline with disturbing coincidences of his company’s patents, had elaborated a sound working theory on the dangerous direction he was steering his company into - but all he had done was legal, and Kara couldn’t seem to catch him lacking.

The interview, at the top floor of Luthor Corp, overlooking the city from a golden tower, had gone as well as expected: cordial, without any substantial information, or any incriminating statement besides the cheeky references alluding to what Lionel undoubtedly knew of Kara’s work from his numerous sources.

All in all, a tiring, dangerous, bust.

Kara sighed to herself as she entered the park, dumplings in hand, and quietly enjoyed the sun on her favourite bench.

At least the sun and dumplings would never disappoint.

She rose after twenty minutes or so, stretching her tense muscles as she decided, for once, to indulge herself with a bit of reading under the shade of a majestic pine tree.

Kara is a dozen meters away when she notices somebody is already lying against the trunk, head buried in a book, long raven hair covering their face, and- unexplainably, Kara is overcome by a striking sense of déjà-vu.

“Lena,” she murmurs under her breath.

There’s no way it’s the same girl, no way that girl remembers her after decades apart, from when she was four years old, and definitely no way the woman heard her.

But the woman’s head lifts and sunshine catches in her emerald eyes and Kara’s breath hitches. 

“Lena?”

[pompadourpink]

hi mom! i'm starting uni in september, i'm moving to a new city so i need to start shopping and all, but also my parents didnt really give me advice and im the eldest so im kinda lost, do you have any advice?? XX

Hello darling,

The ABC:

Uni is scary because your free-will goes from 8 to 90 in two months and freedom is intoxicating. Making up for lost chances can lead to bad choices (spending, dating, partying).

If your family failed to parent you, it is now your job. Autonomy is essential. Learn to cook, budget, clean, be clean, save, be a good citizen, make scary phone calls, keep yourself safe, prioritise.

No one will force you to get up and study, or hire you at 21 when competing with a bright 18 year old. Effort will not betray you (being a grown lazy gifted child will).

Have shared hobbies, from movie Sundays with a girlfriend to knitting with your sister. A social life is a happy life.

Trust your body, it knows. Stomach cramps mean we hate him, daydreaming means try, yawning means bed, not coffee.

The home:

Make a cleaning schedule, be open-minded and reasonable, do not do or say anything your landlord wouldn't like (I fully recommend having roommates once for exposure therapy).

If you have a neighbour your age, introduce yourself. Having that phone number will one day mean not having to sleep outside or getting a package stolen. Thank them with food.

Start documenting problems right away (photos, timestamps, screenshots, testimonies) as you may need to take action later. No emotions, you're just "worried about everyone's wellbeing".

Mould, vermine and leaks are enemies. Act yesterday.

Avoid big purchases. You don't know what the future (location, size, taste) looks like. Go secondhand, neutral, practical.

Avoid silly purchases: streaming, takeout, drinks, fast fashion. You will not regret having a downpayment saved in ten years.

If you ever need to do emergency laundry, put a bin or a bucket in the shower, add water and detergent (+ soda crystal for stains or whitening), wait an hour, rinse, wring, hang.

The shopping:

My grandmother has kept her house clean with a broom, bucket, squeegee broom wrapped in a floorcloth and Marseille soap since the 60s. When something doesn't work, look back.

Must-haves: cleaning (see #1 + cloths, soda, lemons, white vinegar, steel wool), hygiene (scraper, net, shower head filtre, first aid), night (good pillow, plugs, mask) supplies, freezer if possible, water filtre, reusable period protection, winter clothes, long chargers, sunscreen, friend living at home who will lend you tools.

Must-not-haves: anything trendy, collections (even books), a pet - don't let Felix keep you back, sleep over and study in Paris!

Have an emergency kit (+ whatever you need) + a smaller version in the car/at the office (with cash).

Fresh fruit, starches, a few types of frozen vegetables, of cans of legumes, of fresh, canned and frozen protein, a treat, something fun once in a while to experiment + a (bi-)monthly outing.

A couple of formal outfits. Large black dress pants, white shirt, dark grey thin jumper, pencil skirt, blazer, large coat, trench coat, loafers, heels, tall boots. Never slouchy or skin tight, plain.

Craigslist, Facebook marketplace, thrift stores. Spend a few hours making a perfect home board on Pinterest instead of listening to TikTok and taking what Ikea gives you.

The social life:

Make one or two real friends and cherish them forever. Support each other, travel, buy a house together, idk.

Don't be afraid to be/do things alone. You shouldn't be afraid of what your head says when it's not distracted.

Don't miss out on huge opportunities for people. Some are around out of necessity and will ghost you after graduation.

Do not try to impress, especially people you don't like and who don't like you. Do not do or say anything cops wouldn't like. Be a homebody who doesn't drink if that's what you want.

Do not try to educate those who will not learn.

Do not befriend someone who lacks confidence as they will make you pay for their jealousy, nor someone who wants a free therapist. Those relationships will be one-sided.

Befriend a couple of older girls. They will see through the lies of the people (men, classmates, employers) trying to fool you.

The love life:

The thirty-two year old man doesn't find you mature, he finds you inexperienced and malleable. Don't try meth thinking you're special enough to not get addicted.

If a date mocks you and you get mad, either that is who he is or he hates you. If you got mad, he is not for you. Your job is not to pretend you don't care so he can have a girlfriend.

Ask yourself if you would tell your best friend, mother, Taylor Swift, that he (hers) didn't mean it like that. If not, take a break from dating and think about why you think you don't deserve respect.

Don't forgive what you don't want to tolerate.

Don't try to force a relationship with someone who made it clear that he is, for whatever reason, not interested. You will be played like a fiddle until he meets someone he wants.

Don't try communicating with someone who is messing with you on purpose. No one ignores you for three days or sleeps with your friend or breaks your favourite necklace after an argument by accident. Also, your husband would never.

The daily life:

Have a clean e-mail address (firstname.lastname) for official biz and a casual one (f.lastna) for everything else, a solid password (Lanadelrey1984#) - change it yearly - and a list of the usernames and passwords you didn't pick.

If you don't trust your parents, block them off your account or open a new one when you turn 18 before they rob you.

Save a year worth of expenses, don't purchase what you couldn't buy twice now, don't replace what still works, give yourself week-long thinking periods before spending.

Get folders for your paperwork and keep them safe + take pictures for an encrypted Drive (beware of iCloud): diplomas, flat, car, big purchases, work, taxes, health, etc.

Print pics and make albums. One day, the app will die.

Mind your health. Exercise weekly (cardio/strength, ex: runs + weighted Pilates), walk, get more water, sleep, and fibre, take vitamin D, mind your eyes/ears/skin/teeth, stretch, leave.

Only invest energy, money, or time into what is worth it. FaceTime before the date. Get secondhand leather boots instead of replacing plastic. Drop the book after 100 bad pages.

Refuse conversations with people whose lives you wouldn't want, who happily overwork for a mediocre wage and don't know how old their children are. The handcuffs are homemade.

The job:

People will not forget how you made them feel and the world is a small place. Colleagues, clients, bosses will gossip: make sure it is for good reason. Dress and look clean, stand straight, be on time, never ever gossip, even when you were wronged.

Understand the power of sobriety. Be known for the success of your last project, not your bright skirts or temper.

Protect future you so you get the promotion/project/raise. No friends, no enemies. Smile, have neutral answers, make them talk, move on, make your IG private, google your name.

Lie. You don't avoid them, you eat lunch with your nana (hi Paula, no, I forgot about the hairdresser's), weren't unemployed, your father was ill, cannot go out, you have a birthday party.

Act boring with the jealous old woman or the obnoxious man. Take the fake compliment for a real one, don't understand the innuendo, have too much work to chat. Bullies get bored.

Instead of clapping back (see #3), be Cinderella, who ignores the insults and turns to Mr. No nonsense, who has been there twenty years, worryingly asking if Ethel is okay, I don't know what to do (no mention of ego, you're just distraught about her).

Sites to look up: Proton (mail, VPN, drive), Notion.

Love,

Mum

(PS - apologies if the she/he thing doesn't match you, this is a flexible plan for all of my children)

[neege]

I've kind of realized that I don't care what "aesthetic" my favorite characters have, I don't care if they're more fem or masc or anything at all. I only care that they have the same core personality traits they have in canon that make them who they are. Hopefully their aesthetic is a reflection of this, or enhances this somehow but if people like to get creative in how a character looks or presents, I don't mind that at all!

[eepyism]

day 4 ADVENTURE AWAITS!!! I KEEP BEING LATE AND IK IT DOESNT MATTER BUT LIKE IDK

DAY 5 HEADCANONS!!!

YES HES A TRANSMASC ENBY LESBIAN THATS CANON IN MY HEART

[cpt-winters]

Hostage / Kidnapping Whump - Part Three (Part One, Part Two)

Note for tagslist - This half will be the captivity/interrogative part of the mini-series, so please lmk if you would like to be removed or added from the tagslist

Whumpee's unfocused gaze followed the scarlet trail dripping the floor, soaking the cement floor in a scarlet puddle. He didn't even know where the blood was coming from anymore.

"Whumpee?" Leader's familiar voice carried across the small space. "Are you- are you okay?"

Was he? Here they were, stuck with Whumper for going on three weeks now. Three weeks for something that could've been over in three seconds. If only Leader and pulled the damn trigger when he had the chance.

"Come on," Leader tried. "Talk to me."

Whumpee kept his head hung as the doors slid open, Whumper's footsteps growing closer. “I’ll.. tell you what you want.”

"No-" his sergeant cut in. "You can't. Whumpee.. Whumpee, don't."

His eyes didn’t leave the cracks that cut through the cement floor below him as the mercenary's boots stepped into their peripheral. Fingers clasped ahold of his chin, slowly lifting the soldier’s gaze to meet the Whumper's.

“Where is it?”

The man cried out as teeth tore into his palm. Whumpee jerked his head to the side, ripping a fold of skin clear before spitting the bloodied flesh from his lips as the mercenary stumbled back, pushing his hand to his chest.

A lopsided grin wormed its way onto the Whumpee’s face, scarlet dribbling out of it as his shoulders shook, chuckles breaking between his desperate pants. “-Fuck..you..”

He barely registered the fist shooting toward him until it crashed into his face, snapping his neck back before his head fell into the next punch. His vision blurred red as each strike closely followed another, then another and another. A few grunts escaped him, hard knuckles smacking against wet skin as a warm sensation overtook his features.

Leader was saying something - shouting maybe, but what remained a mystery.

Whumper reeled his arm back as a shaky groan left the other before the fist hammered into his chest, cracking something inside. Whumpee keeled over the side of the seat as the restraints would allow, gasping to catch his breath as the other man staggered back, cradling a hand now stained in both his and his captive's blood.

Coughing and spluttering on the blood threatening to clog up his throat, Whumpee made no move to sit back up as the mercenary's rushed footsteps receded toward the door.

"Whumpee? Fuck-"

"Y..you.." he rasped, each breath accompanied by a painful wheeze as his chest tightened. "You should've.. shot him." Whumpee spat out another mouthful of blood, the action doing little to clear the coppery taste from his mouth.

A stiff pause filled the cell.

"I couldn't."

Whumpee lifted his head, squinting at Leader, one eye too swollen to see out of. "And why the hell not?" he choked out. "Now- now we're both gonna die."

"No." Leader shook his head. "We just have to hold on. Our team's coming. They'll find us."

Whumpee's eyes drifted back to the floor.

"Will they?"

Tagslist - @dutifullykrispyland @gala1981 @jinxquickfoot @hostagesituations

[ariscats]

do you want to know a scene that pisses me off in tig? the one right after thea and avery go dress shooping and thea ask if avery has thought abt her hair/makeup for the event and averys replies saying thats the only thing shes has been thinking

(which, the first time i read i though she was being mean but then i realised that she was trying to make a joke, sort of, bc its not rl averys style to be mean to anyone, she even says that once, and it would be out of character to her to be genuinely judging a girl, that she was trying to be nice the whole afternoon bc she genuinely thought thea wanted to be friends w her, for liking to dress up, when herself has to do it. Also the “deadpan” style she says that follows along other jokes she made on the book, specially the ones she made with max, also she could be joking bc she got shot the afternoon bf and rl didnt had the time to think abt anything else)

and i guess thea took it in the mean way, or she was just a bitch bc she replies saying that she thought the only thing avery was thinking was the boys (this is right after everyone finds out abt jameson and avery kissing and basically “shame” on her for that, or just gossip on her back). Like, sorry?? you dont even know this girl at all and youre saying all she thinks abt is some boys??? all of that bc you hate said boys?? even if avery was mean, youre trying to beat misoginy w more misoginy?? thea blind hate for the hawthornes and using avery to hit them is rl my last straw bc what in the girls girls world is that

[carrot-felisidad]

@traditionalartist

Kouki is living a normal slice-of-life story. He wakes up everyday to go to work, he greets the neighbors, he smiles at the customers, he calms them down, and he goes home and reads his manga. One particular manga, a work he has been following since high school, is about a hero who will stop at nothing to defeat the villain of the arc. It has been 23 story arcs, the hero is still fighting, unwavering, handsome, and devastatingly without a love interest.

One day while going home from work after fighting with a rude customer that got him fired, he was pushed by someone towards the road and met the fate delivered by truck-kun. He woke up in the hero's world, and surprisingly enough, the hero, Oreshi, knows him as one of his beloved characters from a book he adores. He's had crush with the main character for the longest time.

"Me??? Why would you like a character like me? And why would you read a book about my boring life???"

"I love your simple adventures and your genuine heart. If everyone in this world is like you, I wouldn't have to be an exhausted hero."

"You're exhausted? I thought... you fight non-stop for world peace?"

"You have no idea how much I want to live in your world. With you."

Kouki feels for him. By arc 17, Kouki realized how Oreshi's story never had any omake or filler chapter where he lounges around with friends. He's always fighting, and if not, he's alone.

Fuck it. Kouki said to himself. This is just a fictional story anyway. I'm taking Oreshi away from here.

And so the two ran away to the faraway forest and lived in domestic bliss for months. They made a house and lived on farming and trading. The world wondered where their hero was, but for once, Oreshi was happy and contented. He doesn't want these moments to end.

One day, there appeared a mysterious and unknown man. He is fast. He is strong. He is cunning. And he looks exactly like Oreshi. He is the villain of the 24th arc.

He defeated Oreshi easily.

"Just so you know, I planted this average and mediocre boy in this world to serve as your weakness." The villain laughed. "How does it feel to finally lose, and in the hands of a powerless at that?"

"You..." Oreshi seethed towards Kouki, "The two of you planned this???"

"That's not true!" Kouki cried. "I never intended to do that. I just wanted you to stop fighting!"

The villain inserted, "And that rendered him unprepared and without training for months. My, my, I never pegged you to be so useful, you useless commoner." He looked at Oreshi, "Now that my job here is done, I will take the final blow and take this boy you loved so much, since you hate him now."

At the villain's lair, Kouki becomes a prisoner the villain, Bokushi, pokes from time to time. The villain loves teasing him with hurtful words that involves Oreshi, and how he has become his devastating weakness.

Kouki's heart grew darker, his hatred towards Bokushi turned him to think, fine, I will be your weakness as well. And then Oreshi can defeat you

Kouki learned how to use his charms.

And it worked!

Bokushi fell hard.

And he became the villain's weakness.

Oh, and Oreshi is marching towards the villain's lair, ready for revenge against Kouki and Bokushi.

He expected that they would be buddies, Kouki played with him for Bokushi after all, but he never expected the sharp pain upon seeing their bodies intertwined.

[coastalwind]

Hoje faço 12 anos de Tumblr! 🥳

[a-tall-hobbit]

It's my 10 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[lakanakana]

war never changes

[thankstothe]

folk hero really

[theshyzombie]

I take a bite of my grilled chicken, "What do you mean I have vampiric blood in me? How is that even possible? I thought vampires couldn't procreate unless they bite someone?" I stare at my best friend and roommate, who is double major in Folklore and Mythology along with Biology, specifically the study of humans. "Look, you remember how I took that blood sample from you?" "You mean when I had accidentally opened a scab and you stole the bandaid afterwards?" I point my fork at her, "Disgusting by the way."

"You don't like needles! What was I suppose to do?"

"I.. don't know. But not steal a used bandaid out of the trash."

"I just... whatever. It doesn't matter, what matters, is that the reason you fit into our world so easily, other than because of family connections, is because somewhere in your family lineage, someone procreated with a vampire." My roommate responds in a hushed whisper, as we were in the food court and could get in trouble for talking of our world so openly that someone could overhear. "I haven't had my 'Mythology' class yet, so I haven't had the chance to ask Professor Venwynn about it yet," she puts air quotes around the word Mythology.

I sigh and lean against the back of the booth we're seated in, "Look. There is nothing special about me. I'm just an average college student, trying to make it through college without having a mental breakdown every 10 minutes. Just because I've been told I have ancient family connections doesn't mean I'm special."

"Okay, but think about it. You can't swim -"

"But I love rivers and the ocean. You know vamps can't cross running water, I have no problem doing it.

"You really like meat. Remember that summer when we were 15 and you tried to go vegetarian? You got so sick, the healers didn't know what was wrong."

"Okay, but I don't eat bloody steak. Mine are usually medium or so."

"You don't like religious architecture,"

"They stole it from other cultures and then claim it's theirs."

"And you get sunburned way too easily."

"I have a lot of European ancestry, and the biggest part of it is Irish.

"Exactly! It all seems normal, but what if it's normal because it's in your blood?"

I sighed, again, there was no way she will drop it, "Fine. Ask your questions. Make your speculations, but I refuse to believe it until you have solid evidence."

She perked up and clapped her hands. Sometimes she can be so smart and serious, I forget her child-like first impression, with her 5 foot nothing height. How I made friends with a fey always confuses me. The only reason I am part of our world is my family has elven ancestry on my mom's side, supposedly. But then great-great-great-great-grandma fell in love with a human, effectively making me 1/32 elven.

"Come on, we've got classes still." I stand up to my full 6 feet, pick up our trash, and walk it to the bin while she gathers her purse and sweater. Sometimes, blending into the human world is exhausting. But, as we have been doing it since high school, and we're almost done with our 4th year of college, it comes second nature. She bounces up to me and nestles herself into my side under my arm, "Let's go to class, Lily." "Of course, Ellie"

You have Vampiric Blood running through your veins. However, that blood comes from quite a few generations back, so all it really means is that you like eating meat, can’t swim, get mildly annoyed by religious architecture, and get sunburned really easily.

[yumenikkii]

just another average day in gravity falls

[kedreeva]

Following the author of The Last Unicorn on Facebook is the only thing that makes being on that site worthwhile.

(source)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.