#Unrelated to my fics

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

unstoppable force (desire to write) vs immovable object (tired)

[aitadjcrazytimes]

[libraryofgage]

so i wrote this yesterday and now it's become a whole thing

basically: Steve is actually smart but nobody realized it until he just fixes their various STEM related problems

anyway this is Eddie's very first experience with how smart Steve Harrington actually is

also please don't call me out if my physics explanations are wrong. just suspend your disbelief, i'm begging you lmao

also also, if you see any typos, no you didn't

---

"You're going to fail my class, Munson."

"Gee, no need to sugarcoat it," Eddie mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding Miss Chester's gaze. His eyes land on one of the posters behind her desk, a cat hanging off a tree branch. Maybe it would like to trade places.

Miss Chester sighs, looking pointedly at the desk closest to hers. She waits until Eddie sits on it, legs hanging over the edge. "I'm serious," she says. "You're going to fail, Eddie. I don't want you to, but there's just some...disconnect happening here."

He appreciates that she's not totally blaming him. Most of Eddie's other teachers would've been berating him for his laziness by now. This, among other things, is why Eddie likes her class even if he can't wrap his head around physics at all. "I don't know, Miss. It just doesn't make sense."

"So I'm noticing." Miss Chester leans back in her chair, her finger tapping against her desk. Eddie immediately recognizes it as the drum beat from a KISS song. "You know you'll probably be held back if you fail, right?"

"Not the first time."

Miss Chester waves off his words, looking deep in thought. "What do you think about tutoring? I think you'll do better in a one-on-one setting. If you understand the concepts better, I can start grading you based on the work you do with the tutor."

"It wouldn't be you?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly. He's not sure he wants some random geek tutoring him. Not that he has anything against geeks, of course, but he's never known one to talk in a way he can understand. They get all...technical and Eddie's eyes glaze over whenever he overhears their conversations.

"No, I don't have the time. But don't worry," Miss Chester says, smiling reassuringly before pulling her roster close and looking down the list. "The student I have in mind probably knows more than me, if I'm being honest. He should be able to answer any question you have."

"What student?"

"His name is Steve."

Of course, Eddie immediately thinks of that Steve. King Steve. Steve "The Hair" Harrington with his blinding smile that's always looked a little strained in Eddie's opinion.

He then dismisses Steve Harrington as a possibility and reviews the other kids named Steve at Hawkins High. There's Steve Paulson, Steve Meyers, and Steve Barns. Maybe it's Barns? He's the only one that Eddie could imagine being somewhat good at physics.

"Are you open to tutoring?" Miss Chester asks. "For one session, at least?"

"Yeah, sure, one session. Won't help, though."

Miss Chester smiles like she knows something Eddie doesn't. Which, to be fair, she does. She knows a lot more than Eddie in terms of physics, at least. "I'll set it up. Just come by tomorrow after school."

--------

On his first day at Hawkins High, Steve realized two things.

One, his parents weren't kidding when they'd said public school would be vastly different from the private group tutoring he'd received up to that point.

Two, if he wanted to have a good high school experience, he needed to be cool. And being cool, it seemed, meant not being smart. He didn't need to be dumb, but he couldn't breeze through his classes, either.

He's done a good job of it so far. He's bored beyond reason in most of his classes, sure, but he's also popular. Nobody bothers him or tries to copy off of him, and it's great. He can even swallow down the weird surge of frustration and annoyance and guilt whenever his classmates assume he's too dumb to be a good project partner, or when his parents ask why he isn't enrolled in AP classes, or when his teachers give him confused looks after he aces tests for a unit he seemingly didn't pay attention to.

Anyway, he almost rejected Miss Chester's request to tutor a student from a different class period. He was just about to say he didn't have the time when she leveled him with a look so profoundly hopeful that he just couldn't. So, Steve said yes and now he's hesitating outside the physics classroom.

What if the student inside uses this against him? Steve thinks he could play it off, maybe convince his friends that the kid is lying, but he's not sure. Nothing dire would happen, but Steve would have to reorient himself to a new place on the social ladder, and that sounds exhausting.

"Just get it over with," he mumbles. Then, before he can chicken out and just leave the other student hanging, he opens the door and steps into the classroom.

Miss Chester isn't there. Steve knew she wouldn't be. She'd said something about a department meeting that would take her time but leave them with the classroom to themselves.

The only other person in the room is Eddie Munson, bent over a notebook and furiously scribbling on the page. He looks up when the door opens and freezes at the sight of Steve. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Eddie breaks the silence by asking, "What, get lost on your way to the locker room, Harrington?"

Steve blinks, frowns slightly, and takes a deep breath. Okay. Fine. Eddie Munson it is. "Nope. Miss Chester asked me to tutor you," he says, because that's the only reason another student would be in this room after school has let out.

Eddie laughs. He nearly falls out of his chair with how hard he laughs. He's wheezing and clutching the edges of the desk by the time Steve moves another desk to face him and sits down across from him. "Are you done, Munson?" he asks.

"Holy shit, you're serious," Eddie says, his voice slightly strained and his face red from laughing. "No fucking way Steve Harrington is here to tutor me in physics. You probably don't even know what two plus two is!"

"It's four. Do you know what 12 times 40 is?" Steve asks, watching as Eddie blinks.

"I'm not a fucking calculator, man."

"No, you're not. It's 480, by the way."

"You could've just memorized that."

Steve sighs and reaches into his bag, digging around some before pulling a calculator out. He places it on Eddie's desk and says, "Ask me something."

Eddie looks at him like he's grown a second head but still pulls the calculator closer. "1,239 plus 378."

"1,617."

He watches Eddie use the calculator, feeling smug when his face twists into confused disbelief. He then puts the calculator down and frowns at Steve. "So you can add, big whoop. Doesn't mean you can teach me shit about physics."

"Won't know until we try," Steve says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his palm. "So, what don't you get?"

"...All of it. Just assume I don't know shit."

"You don't know Newton's laws?"

Eddie snorts, looking back down at his notebook. "There's that motion one and the reaction one," he says.

"Right. Newton's first law and his third. What about the second?"

"It's just...some equation or some shit."

Okay, Steve is starting to get an idea of where things stand. He thinks for a moment before asking, "What kind of stuff do you like?"

"What?"

"What do you like?"

Eddie looks so shocked by the question that he doesn't really think before answering, "Heavy metal. And, uh, D&D, too."

Steve knows heavy metal is music, and he could work with that but the D&D Eddie mentioned might be better. "What does it involve? The D&D?"

"It's a fantasy role playing game. Like, using your imagination to go on adventures with friends and stuff. Needs dice to work."

Oh. Perfect. "Do you have dice with you?" Steve asks. After another brief pause, Eddie nods and pulls one out of his pocket. He passes it over and watches as Steve turns it between his fingers. "Oh, an icosahedron. Cool."

"A what?"

"Icosahedron," Steve says, looking at Eddie. "It just means a twenty-sided polyhedron."

Eddie still looks confused, and Steve is about to explain it again when Eddie says, "Just call it a D20, dude."

"Oh. Sure. Anyway, let's use this," Steve says, rolling it between his fingers before letting it clatter to the desk. It bounces a few times before settling, a 17 facing up. "Do you know what made it stop moving?"

"The desk. I'm not an idiot, Harrington."

"I didn't say you were, Munson," Steve replies, leaning back slightly. "Just...yes, the desk stopped it. This is Newton's first law. If the desk wasn't there, it would have kept falling until it hit the floor. It stopped bouncing because it lost power each time it hit the desk. An object, the D20, will stay in motion, falling, unless acted upon by another force, the desk."

"That...kinda made sense," Eddie says, blinking a few times.

"Great!" Steve says, unable to help the bright smile at knowing Eddie understood him. "Okay, for the second law, the equation is mass times acceleration equals force. Basically, the movement of an object depends on how much it weighs and how much force you apply."

"Aaaand ya lost me," Eddie says.

"Okay, uh, you fight things in that game, right?"

"Yeah, kind of the whole point."

"Right, yeah, and the stuff you fight comes in different sizes, right?"

"Well, an orc isn't gonna be as big as a dragon, is it?"

Steve isn't really sure what an orc is, but he nods anyway. "Right. So if you want to move a dragon, you need to land a stronger hit than you would need for an orc."

"Duh. You're not gonna fell a dragon with a basic cantrip."

"Not sure what that is, but yeah. For this example, moving, or defeating, an object, or a dragon that weighs more than an orc, relies on how much force you apply, which is the strength you use."

"Oh. So, because an orc weighs less, I don't need as much force to defeat it," Eddie says, grinning as he fidgets with his pencil. "This doesn't really sound like math, though."

Steve shrugs. "We'll get to the math part later. Right now is basics. You need to understand those to do more complicated stuff. So, the third law, this is the action-reaction law. Music might be better for it. What happens when you strum a guitar?"

"It...makes a sound. Because it's an instrument."

"Well, yeah, but do you understand how the sound is being made."

"By...strumming it?"

"Yeah, that's part of it. Sounds are vibrations in the air that we can understand. If you touch your throat while talking, you'll feel your voice box, your larynx, vibrate to make the sound of you talking."

He waits as Eddie does exactly that. While holding his fingers to his throat, Eddie says, "Didn't know it was called a larynx. Oh, fuck, yeah, there are vibrations."

Steve nods, waiting patiently as Eddie hums for a few minutes before looking back at him. "So, vibrations. Instruments make sound because playing them causes vibrations. When you strum a guitar, the strings rapidly move back and forth, and that movement is translated into notes."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I'm following you."

"So, the action of strumming a guitar creates the reaction of the strings vibrating. That action of the strings vibrating creates the reaction of air rippling, and those ripples create the reaction of audible noise. Did that make sense?"

"Yeah. It did," Eddie says, his voice soft as he stares at Steve like he's really seeing him for the first time.

Steve shifts uncomfortably, unused to this aspect of himself being known so well by someone at school. He's almost tempted to end things now and apologize to Miss Chester for walking out halfway through a tutoring session. Steve is practicing the apology in his head when Eddie says, "Hey, by the way, sorry for earlier."

"What?" Steve asks, trying to blink away his confusion and failing.

"You know, earlier, when I laughed at you? Pretty shitty of me to do. So, yeah, I'm sorry."

"Oh." Steve stares at Eddie for a few seconds before his shoulders relax. "It's fine. I'm not exactly known for being smart."

"Why not?"

"It's just...easier to let people think I'm dumb. Most of our classmates look at me and think I'm just, you know, a typical jock. They don't expect more from me than that, and I don't expect them to look any deeper."

"Does anyone else know, though?"

"My parents and the teachers. And you."

"Well, don't worry, big boy. Your secret's safe with me."

"Big boy?"

"Don't like it? Would you prefer Stevie?" Eddie asks, grinning as he leans in and exaggeratedly waggles his eyebrows at Steve.

Steve can't help snorting at the sight. "Whatever. Just call me what you want, Eddie," he says.

He tries to ignore the weird swooping in his stomach when Eddie's smile gets wider and he says, "You better not regret it, Stevie."

[wormzandgutz]

Interview with Chat Noire!

[bamsara]

realization. triumphant wilson, zim, moon and now narinder in my fics. thats fours a pattern. do you see

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

What if we snuck off to the supply closet while u were working in ur uncles tea shop 😳😳 and we were both boys 😳😳

Bonus :)

[oh-no-its-bird]

Fic where the unjust death of the Uchiha and the subsequent horrific abuse to their bodies via blatant and indiscriminant eye theft results in Konoha being haunted by the spirits of several very angry Uchiha.

"You know... They say that so long as an Uchiha's eyes do not rest in their body, their spirit will never find peace."

When the husk of a woman who used to be Mikoto smiles, there is blood in her teeth.

"What do you think, Elder Danzo?"

Ft.

- Sasuke being repeatedly lured into the woods by the ghosts of his family (and notably, his parents) both bc some want to protect him and some, not powerful enough to retain their sanity in death, wish for him to die so they might take their eyes as their own

- Nara Shikaku, among others in the Hokage's tower, being repeatedly faced with the unsettlingly eyeless ghost of Fugaku as he appears sporadically and attempting to act as if nothing is wrong— always dissapearing when someone questions how he is there (whether he truly seems to keep forgetting that he has died is unclear, but no methods to purge the offices seems able to keep him away for long)

- the spirit of Mikoto taking on a spokesperson role for the dead, as she seems to have been the one to retain the most of herself in death while plagued with the corruptive everything that comes with being a spirit tied to the earth through nefarious means (with Fugaku being a potential second— if he wasn't so busy w convincing himself he hadn't died at all)

- Danzo being haunted by the more mindlessly violent Uchiha ghosts, driven mad in the afterlife at seeing their eyes in his unworthy flesh

- A surprisingly sane Kagami who has Thoughts and Feelings ab Danzo taking his eye— and the mystery of how exactly he had died

- A suddenly the most qualified person to deal with ghosts Kakashi, who's unfortunatley doomed both attract and to be able to see the Uchiha ghosts with his sharingan, and has them breathing down the back of his neck with talk of watching after Sasuke and GETTING REVENGE !!!!!!!!!!!!! which he is legally obligated to do now as the elder ghosts deem his service as their conduit to be his duty, since they gave him a pass on the eye thing. There's a lot of "see I TOLD you it was a good idea to let him keep the eye!! Clearly Amaterasu has left him here for us to use in our darkest of hours"

Aka forcefully adopted by Uchiha ghosts Kakashi who's "adoption" reads a little more like "indentured servitude to the afterlife"

(And he can't help but wonder why he hasn't seen Obito's ghost, after so many years with his eye in his head...

- Itachi being absoloutley hounded by the guilt of what hes done and the spirits of those hes killed, whove left the haunting of Konoha specifically to haunt him (He is not having fun) (The ghost of Shisui is doing his best to ward away the more volatile ones)

And more !!! Potentially, idk. This would be a fun one if I wrote it but I will not. Someone totally should tho , just, not me.

[heedzhee-art]

prumanoes all over the place

conversation from this fic

[lovely-rubeum]

affirming word.

your first argument with al haitham is one you are sure you’ll never forget. not because of his piercing words and the cold way he stares back at you, but because of his desperate reassurance. the soft way he held you as apologies were uttered, and the gentle way he cared for every tear you shed.

a/n: waah this is my first fic on this account !! cheers ^^

w/c: ~1.5k

warnings: not proof read (im lazy my bad) mentions of arguments, insecurities. hurt/comfort

al haitham has been in maybe, one relationship before this one, you gather. there’s a certain coarseness to the way he approaches love and being in love with you that bleeds with lack of experience. it is not a slight against him, in fact, you’d consider it the furthest from that. you are honored to have been so cherished by someone who claims to not have time for trivial things. if al haitham is good at one thing, beyond mathematics or research or memorization, it is making you feel like you are not and will never be “trivial” to him. he remembers every date, he recalls every small detail, and he does everything he can, even in his busy schedule to make time for you. because you are the one he chose, and you are beyond his preconceptions about the usefulness and reason for “falling in love,” or other trifling activities.

so, when he calls you just that -- useless and pointless and trivial, it stings. and it stings for more than an hour, after the silence has settled in your shared living space and dinner has gone cold. it stings every time he looks at you, unable to control his cold and calculating frustration. even by the time said frustration is no longer directed at you but at himself for getting caught up -- for the escalation to petty insults rather than progress towards a natural solution. even as you both stand up and say you’re sorry for hurting each other and promise to listen and care. you are still left stinging. you ache all over, even as you lie in bed with him, his warm arms pulling your form close as you both whisper declarations of retreat, compromise, and love. you close your eyes and take in his scent, woody, almost a bit musky and just a twinge reminiscent of a well kept library. you would find solace here, but you cannot help but ache. your eyes sting with salt and self-admonishment as you sleep, feeling as though the two of you are left further apart than you were before.

it’s been several days now. the sounds of the bustling streets and the near silence of the akademia’s halls do nothing to comfort your still stirring heart. you see al haitham every day, you tell him you love him every day (because you do, and you’ll be damned before the aftermath of a finished argument tells you that you do not). he echoes the same, but still you think

trivial? were you nothing but pointless and foolish? did your beloved boyfriend, in times of distress, think of you as the very things he swore not to make you feel you were? it hurts to feel distant from him, but you’re sure he hasn’t noticed. in fact, you think it’s better that he hasn’t noticed. he’s a busy, busy man. and, really, he shouldn't be worried about something as frivolous as the way you feel about a pain that’s passed silently for days. you’ll get over it, because you’ve already talked and you love him and that should be enough.

but you forget, that al haitham, while not a fool, is foolishly in love with you. he is a man that gets what he needs and what he wants and when there are obstacles in his path he devises clear plans to avoid them. the only thing he would readily admit to making mistakes over is you. you and your smile that lights up his entire world, you and the way you care for him and challenge his mind in the most electrifying way. you who holds him as he sinks into the depths of his mind, and you who promises him eternity, irrational as that may be. so when you distance yourself, drowning in your own hurt, al haitham is planning. your wounds are like aching scars on his back. prickling with pain and a reminder of his failing, not to himself, but his failing to provide you with the world as you deserve. he sits in his office, stiff and cautious. what on earth could it be that has sent you away from him? what sort of thorns have coated your heart and how should he cut through them to get to you? 

you don’t think much of it, when you’re called into al haitham’s office today. you expect nothing more than an update about his findings. you’ll walk in, say hello, chat for a time until you realize you’ve veered off course and then you’ll depart with timid “i love you”s and you’ll stare into the silence as you hope for the short moment to lift your heart the way it had before it was wounded. you do not expect to see him staring anxiously at the door as you enter. you do not expect him to run a hand through his pretty gray hair and quietly ask you a question.

“could you lock the door?” you do, but you’re holding your breath. dread floods your veins and you cannot help but feel intimidated as he stands and approaches you. in an attempt to flee from your racing mind and heart, you change the subject.

“hi, dear. did you need something? i should have given you the report from—” you’re silenced by the worried look on his face. it’s a foreign expression, one where his shining, always focused eyes dart around you with a mixture of something like fear and hurt, and one where his built arms hang awkwardly at his sides as he figures out what to say first.

“there’s something wrong,” he starts. your breath hitches and you’re forced to break eye contact. al haitham frowns. “please don’t do that. please look at me.” the plea hurts your chest, but you can’t bring yourself to do just that. you try to wave it off.

“there’s nothing—” but the shake in your voice betrays you. he waits for you to open up. for you to take the first step, because your comfort is his priority, but you can tell with the tension in the air that he will cut through if you do not. al haitham gets what he needs, and what he needs more than life is your happiness. you’re sure of that now, as you look back at his expression, endlessly full of concern for you. you can’t bring yourself to lie anymore. “okay, maybe there is something.”

“may i inquire?” he says it so timidly you’d think he’s another person. you can’t stop yourself from sighing. 

“i just… it’s stupid. i don’t think it’s worth making a big deal. i’ll be over it soon.” the deadpan look on his face says otherwise.

“you have been… apart from your usual self. for longer than three nights. i’m worried about you.” al haitham’s admission is shaking, but resolute. his soothing voice quakes just the slightest bit, but he refuses to back down. you cave at his look, just as you always do.

“i‘m just… still hurt. over what you said, when we argued? i didn’t want you to feel bad since we already moved on from the problem but i keep thinking about it and hearing it in my head. you called me trivial.” al haitham pauses, as if recounting the event. you continue. “i know you probably didn’t mean it, but i can’t help but think that maybe…”

“stop,” he says with a gentleness reserved only for you. he places his hands gently on your shoulders while silently asking for permission in his gaze to pull you close. you nod, and suddenly his hand is patting the back of your head softly, as if you’re the most cherished being in the universe itself.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you feel your eyes welling up with tears as he holds you close and admits fault. he pulls away slightly, but only to dry your tears with his thumb.

“you are everything to me. and it was only foolish of me to have allowed things to progress to this point. i would move mountains and slay the worst of foes just to see you happy. i have taken away part of your smile, even for a second. and for that i am so sorry.”

there is a tenderness in his eyes. you couldn’t imagine a more beautiful expression if you tried, and it is then that you realize he is not used to wearing this expression. he is clumsy in the way he squeezes you, and although he is intelligent, he is also inept in maintaining his usual aloofness as he reassures you that you will never be a waste of his time. it is then too, that you notice the fear squandering his composure as he promises to love you for what may be the millionth time.

you relax and while you cry in his arms, you allow al haitham’s affirming word into your heart, never to be shaken again.

[nenoname]

stan twins the canon cptsd brothers i will always think about all your unaddressed issues that would make perfect plot fuel for your spinoff

and also the whole 'stan getting that poem by bill via a website which contrasts with bill getting one from the axolotl via a website' foreshadowing thing

like idk i would love something like su future but like more optimistic, aka not an accumulated breakdown that has to be mostly resolved off screen at the end :/// but something thats being kinda addressed throughout? (although would love to see one of them turn into a monster thats always fun lol)

stan having severe issues from his dad and those years of being homeless that we keep on getting more info on but never really getting confronted on (the drifter catalogue and tijuana incident...), him being completely alone for like twenty years when running the shack before soos comes along to the point that 1998 is noted as his low point, and him not really learning about bill+what he did to ford until ages after he killed him if he ever did get the full context

while i think amnesia and everyone seeing him as a hero actually helped with stan's 'i'm a worse version of my brother' thing its still a lingering issue too and we now got him being insecure over his own hands

ford being immediately thrown from 'being tortured by bill' to 'being stuck in the multiverse and being chased by bounty hunters constantly', him fully expecting himself to die when destroying bill, and him only now being safe for the first time in 30 years ....relatively safe, he's still in constant danger because of course he is

idk in the end the series wants them to be happy and they deserve it, its why i wasn't too worried about the book being like 'ooh bill is back!! and the book is haunting ford' thing cos i knew they'll be ok

[zishu-arts]

some more give all the best to you jdcnjdcnje (cause i’m procrastinating on other things)

[moss-the-mage]

Just saw a fic tagged as "free palestine btw" as if that's in any way relevant or appropriate. This is an archive. There's no algorithm, and there are no viral movements or tags.

[babygirlgiles]

Why does no one else see my vision for post-war Effie Trinket. Like that woman does NOT become a civil servant, she does not join the ranks of government service. She is 100% New Panem’s first influencer. She was already having her It Girl moment as the escort of District Twelve’s victors beforehand and now there’s public perception that she was this Hunger Games insider playing the long con to dismantle the system from within and paid this great sacrifice for it by being tortured by Snow’s cadre for her efforts. Which is not true at all because she had No Clue what was going on but Plutarch needs new programming to fill all the hours that used to be taken up by Hunger Games related media so he decides to capitalize on Effie having Her Moment. And with people being allowed to travel between districts for the first time in over a generation and newfound freedom of information, there would a nationwide fascination how other people live. Effie ends up with her own lifestyle/travel series where she visits different regions of Panem and even exotic far away places such as “England”. She’s posting beach selfies on Panemstigram to promote her upcoming episode on lobster fishing off District Thirteen’s revitalized coastline.

She even gets her own daytime talk show at one point. She tries (and fails) for years to get Peeta on the show as a guest. Katniss has never watched a single episode.

[paradoxbeta]

blue alien to blue alien "communication"

[mayxo-hxh]

Im about to get controversial.

Out of chrollo, illumi and hisoka, hisoka is canonically the least likely to flirt to get anything he wants, if at all.

A lot of people think he's a natural flirt but I fear I couldn't have disagreed more. He only "flirted" a single time and that was solely to piss off machi, knowing she'd never agree. Hot take? He would've never asked if he knew she'd agree.

Also, bro's the biggest humanphobe in the anime. He keeps his distance from everyone. The only human physical contact he ever made was through fighting people. (If you're a person thats interested in seeing more evidence, I have an entire long thread about it on twitter that I do plan on posting here soon)

so u cannot give me 1 reason for hisoka to flirt with someone at a random bar but chrollo and illumi? i can think of a few.

chrollo, he already canonically flirts to get what he wants. straight up goes on dates gets a suit and shit. he has no reputation among the general public that hes concerned of that isnt the spider. Illumi? He's a manipulator. I HIGHLY doubt he never flirted to get something in his life from people who are too easy to win over. He's someone that wouldn't care what people think of him. He's also anonymous. People have no idea who tf he is anyways. If it affected the zoldyck reputation? Thats a different story.

Hisoka? he would fucking NEVER. Him specifically? HE HAS A REPUTATION. And whats that reputation? That hes an absolute disgusting freak that no one should dare to approach. He kills people. He fights live and makes sure the audience is always disgusted and weirded out by his actions and performances. You look at him and you should immediately look away and pray he hasn't seen you.

So riddle me this. If his entire shtick is making sure everyones afraid of him and avoids him, then why the hell would he get himself a reputation that makes him approachable????

Why would he get himself a reputation that makes you, as a person who only ever heard of him picking people up, want to approach him.

On top of that, I just.. don't see him picking random people up..??? random weaklings that dont even know nen????? he literally treats them like trash that inconveniences his time. You're saying he'd EVER give them the privilege of sleeping with him???

And then you'd say, oh so he'd sleep with strong people! HERES THE THING. Why would he sleep with them..... when he can fight them. Him getting off from fighting comes NOWHERE to actual sex. What people don't understand is that he gets off to killing people and seeing them crumble in front of him when they realize theyre going to die. Torturing people to death. What's... that got to do with like. yknow. actual sex bro 😭😭😭😭😭😭

this turned into a huge rant probably but do you know how genuinely depressing it is seeing a unique character like hisoka that gains lust through FIGHTING and KILLING reduced to. sex addict in fics. Like. be so fucking serious right now. He called himself a FIGHT ADDICT in the manga. Can I see more of him actually spending his time killing and fighting people instead of whatever the hell bros doing with a random npc.

Anyways this is also why I hc him as asexual/demisexual NEXTTTT