#a traumatic experience with its upsides i guess

[piovascosimo]

walked to largo argentina to see the reenacting of giulio cesare's murder but it was way too crowded and i didn't care that much, i had work to do, my feet were hurting and i wanted to pee, so instead of walking to my classes like i usually do i decided to get a bike and get there faster

1 min later i got run over by an old man who ran a red light. if this was any other day i would have seen him coming, but today someone parked a fucking van in the middle of the road, so i only saw him when it was already too late.

i wasn't seriously hurt, thought that i was fine, people came to my aid, but i didn't want a commotion much less to confront a very elderly person, went to class, but then i suppose the adreline rush went away and i started crying like an idiot. excused myself and came home. now i fucking hurt everywhere.

[granulesofsand]

Escape the Tank

Our recommendation page is full of some hot takes we don’t agree with. Many of these are heavily based on the idea that group identity is binary, in or out, yes or no. Our collective has few boxes we fit, and even those require stuffing in or chopping off some stray bits.

We are queer. Our exact identities change with fronters, but to us, being a system is inherently not cishet. Some of us will be gay, bi, trans, nb, gnc, and we can belong in any of those spaces at any given time. Integrating front has left us with the equivalent of chewed Skittles, and this is the closest we’ve got to a collective label.

We are intersex. We don’t have the money to get tested for what kind, but our body is having a field day tossing out hormones with no apparent plan. Neither sex can tell ours, so we’re effectively excluded everywhere. We need support from all of them, especially as heavily traumatized as we are. There is no kind of pain that was closed to us, but no door that remains open to speak about it. Oppression might not be gender neutral, but language should include or specify to find its audience.

We are mixed race. Our body got its looks from the largest contributor, and we were lucky that the smaller percentages are less visible, even if they add up. We are lucky because people with those traits died young where we were raised. Less visible is not invisible, but we survived long enough passing for white that the later treatment was much easier on us. The culture that best matches our genetics was long abandoned, the last remains weaponized. The cultures we were brought into, the people we feel safe with might not feel safe with us. We resemble our perpetrators and theirs, but they are our people nonetheless.

We are a programmed collective. Our history rarely fits conversation amongst traumatized people, and certainly doesn’t among healthy-without-healing folk. We have the downsides of DID, but we don’t belong. Adaptive system, yes, but forged for another’s will. Different upsides, and more of a stretch. We refuse to heal correctly for a CDD — let alone a TBMC — system. We’re weird, and we’re doing better this way.

We are mixed origins. We have headmates of about every category, and we will care for their safety before anybody else’s comfort. Our life has been synonymous with trauma, it may well be all that we are, but we are also this. Our experience of our multiplicity and plurality are uncommon for both sides of syscourse. Instead of having access to both circles, we’re walled into the space between; not a lot of occupants in here.

We are disabled, both physically and not. Our symptoms vary by fronter, but there are some things our body keeps as a constant. We are all some level of hard of hearing, we can only get so far without a mobility aid, and our system is dysfunctional how we like it. But because we’re hardly seen as independent actors, disabled people look at what our body has — and we don’t know. None of us get the accommodations we need because we all have different needs.

I could keep going. You wanna guess how many of those terms we use for ourselves?

None of em.

Language is for understanding, and we introduce these concepts so we can be better known. But we don’t have any labels that fit us exactly. We are living, thinking creatures, and the intersections and details of our lives aren’t going to sit pretty in a paragraph description — assuming people even know what those words mean.

We are a lot of things. We’ll use the descriptors that fit, or we’ll make up our own phrases. The boxes are there for us, not the other way around. It would be so much easier if people would just hear us for our point of view.

[queer-charming]

1000 Words - Part 5 - Chuuya x F!Reader (NSFW)

Words: 8.5K

Rating: E

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content

A/N: ITS FINALLY HERE! Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors, I spent about 8 hours writing this today and I'm tired haha. Anyway, it took me literal months to write this FINAL chapter, for some reason I just had the worst Writers blog, but I hope you enjoy some spicy Chuuya time!

You walked into your office that morning groggy and tired, the beginnings of a headache making themselves known at the front of your skull. You had your fourth cup of coffee in your hand as you set down your purse and draped your coat over the back of your chair. You sat down, gave one more good stretch before turning your attention to the stack of papers and envelopes engulfing your desk before you. Reluctantly you plucked one envelope from the top and popped it open, pulling the chicken scratch written letter out and doing your best to discern what the first word was.  

A knock at your door pulled your attention away from the parchment in your hand. “Come in,” You croaked out in your still not fully functional early morning voice. The door opened to reveal a familiar figure, a figure clad in well fitting black trousers, a tailored white dress shirt and a signature choker. Chuuya sauntered into the room, effortlessly closing the door via his ability behind him, holding up a cardboard carrying box of coffees.  

“I come bearing gifts.” Chuuya planted the case of coffees down on your desk. “Also I didn’t know your favorite and I don’t have your phone number to ask so I took a guess, I take you as one with a sweet tooth.” You smiled. You do indeed have a sweet tooth, you happily took one of the cups of coffee, favoring it over the halfassed cup of not nearly strong enough coffee you had brought from home.  

“So you remembered our deal.” You remarked, taking a sip out of the cavity inducing drink in front of you.  

“I am a man of my word y/n.” Chuuya replied in a tone that was all too serious to actually be taken seriously. Using his ability, Chuuya pulled a chair from across the room to sit across from you. “Also with how many of these reports I send you, its only fair I experience the pain of reading them at least once.” You chuckled.  

“Well I wish you luck,” You chose a random stack and plopped it on the desk in front of the redhead. “Tell me when the headache kicks in, I have Tylenol.”  

*************************** 

To be honest, you hadn’t actually expected Chuuya to make it past a few reports before he gave in and quit, but here you were, nearly four hours in and almost half way through your stack of papers and he was still going, granted he’d moved from the seat across from you after about four reports and has now positioned himself sat upside down on the ceiling, every few minutes you’d find a single sheet of paper drift down from the ceiling and back onto your desk as he completed reading it. You spared a glance up at him every few minutes, just to make sure he was still awake, despite the metric fuck ton of coffee you both had consumed throughout the morning.  

“These are written by fucking toddlers!” Chuuya’s voice startled you out of your focus, nearly causing you to drop the papers currently held in your hands. “They might as well be written in crayon.” And while you agreed with your favorite ginger haired mafioso, the only response you had to make was a chuckle behind your papers.  

“Kouyou said that there used to be an operative who would actually write his reports in crayon.” You chimed in, the memory suddenly rising to the surface.  

“That was Dazai.” Chuuya paused. “I never saw him do it but it sounds like something that idiot would do.”  

“What was he like?” You asked, and after a pause you added. “When he was an executive.”  

Chuuya seemed to think for a second before responding. “Besides a scathing pain in my ass? He was immature, reckless, lazy, strolled his way through missions and took special pleasure in traumatizing other agents.”   

“Mori always seems so wistful of him though.”  

“That my friend, is because as far as Mori was concerned Dazai was a ray of fucking sunshine who could do no wrong.” There was a certain level of venom in Chuuya’s voice, one you imagined that had it been directed at you, would sent a wave of panic through your body. You were glad it wasn’t. 

Before you could finish your thought, Chuuya was back on the ground, standing before you, hand reaching for a pen as he wrote one of what probably would end up being about fifteen correspondence letters to other agents regarding information in their reports. You were able to glance at a few of the letters Chuuya would write, and compared to his letters, even your most sternly written ones sounded like pleasant requests. You imagined you would have several panic written letters sitting on your desk tomorrow morning.  

“Chuuya what a pleasant surprise!” Kouyou’s voice boomed from the office door. “I was wondering why your office was empty, what brings you to the records department?”  

“I offered to help (Y/N) today since you refuse to hire a full team and she was dead on her feet last night.”  

“No I wasn—” You started before Chuuya shot you a look and you immediately shut your mouth. He hadn’t turned to greet Kouyou yet.   

“Last night? Now what would you be doing to keep my lovely (Y/N) up so late?” You didn’t even have to look at Kouyou’s face to know how suggestive that single sentence sounded and imagine the look of the cat that caught the canary on her face.  

“Hardly anything even close to what you’re thinking,” Chuuya countered quickly. “It all pertained to work.” It was at this point that Chuuya finally turned to face his mentor who still looked at him as if she knew something he was trying to hide. Kouyou stood for a moment in silence, waiting to see if you were going to add anything.  

“Well, that is very kind of you. It seems you two must have had a very busy morning then, considering the volume of reports this week, why don’t the two of you take a break, go get lunch or something, I’m sure all these reports will still be here when you get back.”  

“But-”  

“That sounds like a fantastic idea, come on (Y/N).” Chuuya cut you off before plucking your current report from your hands and placing it down on the table. He grabbed for one of your hands, pulling you from behind your desk and toward the door of your office.  

“So what was with the hasty exit?” You finally asked after the two of you had sat down at a little coffee shop down the street from the Port Mafia headquarters.  

Chuuya stirred his coffee. “Trust me, that woman comes standard with ulterior motives.” This you did know already, you’d worked with Kouyou plenty long enough to learn that. “Had we stayed I can guarantee she would have orchestrated some plan to give herself some entertainment at the expense of the only two other people in the room.” You nodded, both of you sitting in silence for a few moments. “Besides,” Chuuya started again. “You can’t tell me you aren’t ahead of schedule now.” He was right, you were well beyond where you would be had he not been with you all morning.  

“Thank you.” You said with a smile, taking a cautious sip from your steaming coffee. You were probably well above the safe limit of caffeine intake but it wasn’t like that particularly concerned you at this moment.  

The day had been a dreary one, rain clouds that threatened to pop at any minute covered the sky, What little rays of sunshine cut through the gloom were rapidly being eaten by the gray clouds. “Least I could do for humoring me last night.” Chuuya said after he set his own cup of coffee back down on the table. “You could have just declined and asked for the rest of the report.”  

“No I couldn’t.” You countered easily.  

“(Y/N) You don’t work for me, you can say no to me anytime you want, you won’t see any repercussions.” 

“That’s not why.” You said before you could stop yourself. Looking back at the executive, you recognized his curious expression, the silent question in his eyes, ‘why then?’ it asked. “I didn’t go to your office last night because I felt obligated to, I went because I wanted to.” You said cautiously, hoping he took it as exactly what you said and didn’t hear the ‘because I’m desperate to spend time with you’ between the lines. It was silent for a few minutes afterward, Chuuya seemingly mulling something over in his head. Finally he spoke.  

“Take the rest of the day off.” He said bluntly.  

“I bet your pardon?” You squawked. What? Absolutely not, you had so much to get done! Did he forget it was report season? 

“You heard me,” He retorted. He seemed to hear your internal shouting. “Look, you’re going to be done with report season a full day early with what we got done this morning anyway, its the perfect opportunity to take half a day and recharge.” Your shoulders were still tense as you looked at him incredulously.  

“And what about you? Gonna go back to your office and drown yourself in more work while I get to trapeze through a day off?” Chuuya smiled, it was small but noticeable.  

“Who do you think you’ll be spending the day with?” Everything stopped, the world halted where it was. You stared at the man before you for a moment before collecting yourself. Calm down, it was just a day for two friends to spend some time and relax, no stress of work, don’t overthink it. It’s nothing. “As long as you’d like to, that is-” 

“It sounds fun.” You interrupted his backtracking. “What are your plans?” He seemed stalled for a minute, like he hadn’t been expecting you to say yes. Finally his mind seemed to catch up.  

“You hungry?”  

******************** 

Three days. It had been three days and it was nothing but silence, all consuming, deafening silence that rocked you to your bones and put a pit in your stomach. It was day three into a new report season and Chuuya was stuck in a mission that was only supposed to last a day, but it's been three and there has been no correspondence, no status updates, no communication and you felt the anxiety in your veins and the tremor in your breaths.  

You sat in your office, attempting your best to focus on a letter than should have taken you five minutes but instead had taken you thirty. It was maddening. Chuuya was fully capable of handling himself, perfectly capable of getting himself out of any dangerous situation, but no word from him, no ‘we’re okay, it’s just taking longer than usual’. He was on another joint mission with the ADA, something big and something bad, so big and bad in fact, that you knew almost nothing about it, all you knew was probably the most terrifying fact, that it may require a return of double black.  

You slammed the letter in your hand onto the desk, mind far too jittery to even consider working. Sure, Chuuya had been away for weeks at a time before on missions, but there had always been constant updates, there had never been total radio silence, and one thing you knew from working in the Port Mafia for so long, radio silence was never good. You stood from your desk, walking around your desk to the small window in your office, looking out on the gloomy day. Your arms were crossed over your chest as you tried to force your mind to quiet. Worrying wasn’t going to do anything, it was only going to stress you out more. You took deep grounding breaths, it wasn’t helping.  

“He’s going to be fine.” Kouyou’s voice broke through your thoughts. You didn’t know when she’d come into your office, and frankly you didn’t care. “There isn't a force on this planet that could take Chuuya out, not without one hell of a fight.”  

“Any word?” You asked. You didn’t bother hiding your concern, there was no use doing so in front of Kouyou. Knowing her, she probably predicted you’d develop feelings for her favorite protege as soon as you’d sent that first letter. There was no point in trying to hide from her.  

“Not yet, but this isn’t the first time Chuuya’s done this.”  

“When was the last time?” You asked. Her words had brought a sliver of peace to your panicked mind.  

“The dragonhead conflict, he was sixteen.” You’d read past reports on that conflict, it was bad, the casualties unrivaled in almost all of the Port Mafia’s history. It was where Chuuya and Dazai had gotten the name double black, where they were named devastating rivals. You weren't even in Yokohama at that time. “Chuuya ended that conflict near single handedly, he’ll be fine.” You took another deep breath.  

“Thank you, Kouyou.” You sighed. You still hadn’t turned from the window, but your grip on your arms had loosened and your rapid heart rate slowed, even if slightly.  

“Executive Ozaki.” A voice broke through the short silence. It was the voice of one of the couriers as he sped down the hallway toward his superior. “Word, from Executive Nakahara.” Your heart rate raced again at the message, scrambling to get to Kouyou as she took the letter from the courier. “I was directed to give it directly to you.”  

“By whom?” Kouyou inquired.  

“One of Executive Nakahara’s team.” With that the courier left, leaving you and Kouyou to open the letter. Unfolding the parchment, Kouyou read its contents silently. She took a deep breath.  

“Chuuya is alive,” You released the breath you’d been holding at the words. “However, the conflict has yet to fade, it seems Chuuya may have to resort to drastic measures to get the job done.”  

“What are drastic measures?” You asked, though you could guess.  

“Corruption.” Kouyou responded curtly. She sighed. “Luckily Dazai is there, this will be coming to an end shortly.”  

“What would happen if Dazai wasn’t there?” You found yourself asking, unsure if you really wanted to know the answer.  

Kouyou only looked at you for a moment, seemingly debating how she wanted to answer. “If Chuuya were to ever use his corrupted state without the presence of Dazai, corruption would rip him apart from the inside out until it killed him.” You stopped breathing.  

“Dazai would never-” 

“No,” Kouyou interrupted, guessing your question. “Dazai would never voluntarily let Chuuya die of Corruption, he will always pull him out of it.” You nodded, returning to your desk to attempt to continue your work. 

*************************** 

It was Friday, two fifty-four in the afternoon when the letter landed on your desk. You recognized the penmanship anywhere, and your breath stalled in your lungs when you looked at it. It was from Chuuya, presumably the report from the harrowing mission he’d just returned from.  

Chuuya got back to Yokohama only yesterday, but he never came into the office, instead he was under direct orders to go home and recover, orders from Mori himself. He was on mandatory leave for no less than three days, as that’s how long it usually took him to get back on his feet after using corruption. Apparently this time was different than normal, he’d been under longer than usual, Dazai just managing to pull him out in time. Kouyou said he had slept for ten hours when he got back, he was so incapacitated she had to make sure he was still breathing a few times, the news had made your blood run cold.  

The letter on your desk brought warmth to your chest, it confirmed that he was okay, well he was alive at least, you weren't sure if okay was a word you’d use yet, it had only been twenty-four hours since he’d gotten back. But the letter also brought a different feeling... annoyance. What the FUCK was he doing working when he was under strict order not to? Also how did he even get the letter to you in the first place? He wasn’t even allowed in the building right now, the doormen ordered to shove him back in the direction he had come if he even darkened the doorway. Mori was very serious with his executives, if he said Chuuya needed to rest then damn it he was going to make sure he did.  

You tore open the flimsy seal that kept the envelope closed, perhaps a little too aggressively, and pulled out the folded parchment inside. The handwriting was still just as neat, if not a little trembled.  

“Mission number – 32846 – was a success,” the letter started. “Albeit a difficult one. Our target’s name was Yuzono Hakatski, a former Port Mafia member and a traitor. She’d been causing issues for the boss for a few months now, interrupting supply chains, burning down warehouses, killing our couriers, seriously what happened to don’t shoot the messenger?” You found yourself smiling at the joke. It was clearly strained, you could feel that even through the writing, but the fact that he was still making an attempt to be funny warmed your heart. “Originally Mori thought we’d just have to deal with her ourselves, but it turned out this particular thorn in our side and a bone to pick with a specific thorn in my side. She hated Dazai, so much so she was willing to dismantle the entirety of the ADA just to get to him, and she almost did, they were lucky to leave that battle field with no casualties, our team however wasn’t so lucky, we lost six good agents to her team of overzealous hit men. One of them was strong, much stronger than the others, wouldn’t let anyone get close to him and had the fight in a choke hold. His ability was something else, a near cosmic force of destruction and mayhem, and unfortunately the only way to fight that kind of ability is with another cosmic force of destruction and mayhem, and unfortunately for him, mine was stronger, but unfortunately for me, it fucking sucked. Yuzono Hakatski has been returned to Port Mafia custody and awaits trial for her crimes, more than likely she’ll be executed and we can all put this behind us. I’m aware I'm missing quite a few chunks in this story, but frankly I'm not sure I'm in the condition to be going all over it in this letter, but if you have any questions, forward them to my home office.” Underneath the final sentence was an address, this was Chuuya’s personal address, the address to his apartment, he’d given you the exact location of where he lived, information that even some of the most high ranking members didn’t have access to, he’d just given it to you in a letter. You let that information sink in for a minute, the annoyance you’d been feeling dissipated briefly, but quickly made it’s return when you reread the letter and realized he was in no condition to write this letter, let alone write more. He was supposed to be resting, not doing his due diligence, other members of his team survived, they could write this to you for now, he needed to fucking rest for once. You slammed the letter down on your desk, your mind made up, you were going to utilize the address he gave you, but not for the reasons he gave it to you.  

Finding the apartment was surprisingly easy, it wasn’t far from your own honestly. It was approximately ten AM the next day and you stood outside a large metal door, you double checked and made sure the numbers on the door matched the numbers in his letter, then you triple checked and quadruple checked as you tried to school your breathing. This was simple, you were just coming to check on him, maybe make him some food because you doubted he could do it very well right now and you were determined to make sure he was eating. Your grip on your purse loosened slightly, your hand stiff from how tightly you’d been holding it. Its fine, this was only a guy you were going a little crazy for who was sweet and considerate and made your heart race every time you even looked at  him, what could go wrong?  

Steeling yourself and gathering as much nerve as you could, you lifted your hand, giving a solid three knocks to the door and waiting for it to open. It didn’t take long before you heard movement on the other side, the heavy clunk of a lock mechanism as it released and suddenly the door was opening. Chuuya looked exhausted and incredibly shocked to see you standing outside his door, his copper hair, normally precisely tamed and managed, was a little more loose, clearly unbrushed today but not completely out of control, he wore a simple grey long sleeve and black joggers. There were dark circles under his wide eyes and his skin, normally fair, was abnormally pale and feverish.  

“(Y-Y/N)?” Chuuya stuttered out. “What are you-” 

“I thought Mori said mandatory rest,” You interrupted him, crossing your arms over your chest and feeling the annoyance from the day before rise again in your chest. “What do you think you’re doing trying to send me reports when you should be recovering?” You ranted.  

Chuuya was silent for a moment, seemingly processing what you had said and catching up to the fact that you were stood right there in front of him, then a smile cracked his features. “Did you come all the way here just to lecture me.”  

You halted. “N-no,” You sputtered out, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks. “Mostly.” You looked away, silent for a minute before the worry started to seep back into your bones. You turned your attention to the man in front of you. “Are you okay?” You asked. He smiled again.  

“What, worried about me?” He said, clearly intending for it to be a joke, but the truth clawed its way out of your throat before you could stop it.  

“Yes,” You said, seemingly surprising him a little bit, but you couldn’t stop the flow of words from your lips. “Three days of no communication, I didn’t know if you were alive or dead and I was terrified that you weren't going to be coming back and  when Kouyou told me about you having to use corruption I got even more scared, what if Dazai didn’t pull you out in time, what if-” You rambling was cut off abruptly by a pair of arms around your shoulders. You were being hugged, Chuuya was hugging you. Your mind short circuited. He was warm, really warm, the smell of cinnamon and firewood filled your senses, you found yourself memorizing it as your arms came up to wrap around his middle, burying your head into his neck, letting him surround you. It was the first time he’d ever hugged you, in your many months of knowing him, of talking to him and being around him, it was the first time he hugged you, and you were grateful for his firm hold on you, fearing your knees would give out at any minute.  

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” He whispered against your hair. “I’m okay, better than I was yesterday that’s for sure.”  

“How long does it usually take?” You found yourself asking against his throat. You hadn’t pulled away yet, content to just stay there engulfed in his warmth, feeling his steady heartbeat against your chest.  

“A few days, typically, I’m sore but functioning just fine, no need to get all wound up.”  

You chuckled against his skin. “Well unfortunately you make it very easy to get all wound up.” You felt him expel a breath, a partial laugh as he finally pulled away from you. You mourned the loss, but found you were much more relaxed than you had been just moments before.  

Chuuya stepped aside, allowing you entrance into his home. “Well if I'm going to have a baby sitter she may as well come in.” He joked, a kind smile on his lips. Chuuya’s apartment was neat and well furnished, matching floor to ceiling windows to his Port Mafia office, the floor was a pristine white wood, a red rug under the small coffee table of the living room sat between two white couches, red pillows decorating either end of each. The apartment was open concept, the only thing separating the kitchen from the rest of the house being a single counter top attached to a marble bar, it was a home befitting a mafia executive.  

Once he closed the door, you noticed how his walk was stiff, his body clearly straining to keep him upright. He looked tired, his complexion, while mildly better than it had been when he had first opened the door, was still far too pale for your liking, and despite the fact that it’s only been a few days since initally left for that mission, he looked thinner.  

“So,” Chuuya started, pulling your from your thoughts as you hung your purse on the rack near his front door. “Since you’re here, would you like to get the rest of that report, save me from having to write it all?” You stared at him.  

“You mister,” You jabbed a finger at him. “Are not allowed to do any sort of work until your better. Don’t even think about it.” Chuuya raised his hands, showing his palms, an amused look on his face.  

“Yes ma’am.” You chose to ignore the warmth that phrase bloomed in your core and instead set toward his kitchen to see what he had to work with, you were thinking soup.  

“You don’t have to cook for me you know, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself when this happens.” Chuuya said as he watched you gather ingredients, chicken from the fridge, some fresh vegetables, he even had the stock, tucked away far in a cabinet.  

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” You said as you set a pot to boil on the stove, you hadn't turned to look at him yet, so of course you were currently missing the way his eyes trained to your back, trailed down your spine. The way he watched your hands move as you diced the multitude of carrots, leaks and other veggies you’d found stashed in his fridge. “What’s the point of having friends if they don’t cook for you when you’re recovering?”  

“Well most of my friends are in the mafia, so...” 

You jabbed your knife in his direction from across the room. “No excuse.” All in all, he let you cook, allowed you to use his kitchen to your hearts content and even offered to wash dishes, which again, you refused to let him do. For someone who was supposed to be resting, he sure was bad at it.  

“Has anyone ever called you a workaholic?” His voice chimed after so many minutes of silence. You were at the end phases of your cooking, Chuuya having forgone his standing and instead opting for a seat at the bar as he watched you move about the kitchen. “Because I feel like the word fits pretty well.”  

“Says you mister, ‘let me send this report in the day after I almost kill myself’.” You jested, you didn’t turn to look at him, instead keeping your attention trained on the boiling pot before you. You heard him give a playful chuckle.  

“I’m serious though,” He started. “You spend all day working on safe routes for agents in the field, organizing bribes, gathering information, then a week a month you voluntarily drive yourself insane as you read hundreds of reports written by literal children, and then to top it off, you come over here and proceed to make soup the second you walk in the door because I’m mildly sore. Do you ever take a day off?”  

“Do you?” You countered.  

“Not my point and you know it.”  

You thought for a moment, when was the last time you took a day off? There was that half day you took with Chuuya after he’d helped you with your reports that season, but beyond that, you couldn’t remember. “What about that day you and I went to that cafe, I took that day off.” You finally turned to point the wooden spoon in your hand at the man sitting behind you.  

“First of all,” Chuuya countered. “That was only half a day, and second of all, I practically had to drag you away from your work kicking and screaming.”  

“That’s a little dramatic.”  

“Am I wrong?” You stayed silent, pouting as you returned to your soup. No, he wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t going to let him win that easily. You could feel his smugness behind you.  

“Maybe I should have you come over and cook for me once a week... you want a job?” Chuuya joked as he lounged across from you on the other couch.  

“I already have a job, thank you.” You smiled as you joked back, but your were happy to finally make him eat something.  

“Well I can’t pay you as much as Mori does, but I can promise not to run you as ragged.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his words, a much different image coming to mind at the words. Damn him and his stupidly attractive face.  

“As tempting of an offer as that is,” You started. “I quite like my job, I get all the Port Mafia gossip delivered right to my doorstep courtesy of Kouyou.”  

“She does like to gossip,” Chuuya confirmed, then a startled look washed over him. “She hasn’t said anything about me, has she?”  

You eyed him suspiciously, the urge to stir the pot rising within you. “Maybe, maybe not.” You supplied, maybe a little bit of a lilt in your voice as you watched his reaction.  

“Don’t think just because I’m a little sore that I won’t come over there.” He threatened, pointing a finger at you. You felt excitement well up in you, you understood why Dazai enjoyed messing with Chuuya so much, it was fun.  

“And do what?” You teased further. “Show me the wrath of gravity?” He huffed out a laugh, a disbelieving smile on his face as he sat up straighter, like a tiger ready to pounce.  

“You think I won’t? Are you daring to challenge a Port Mafia executive? You’re walking a dangerous like missy.”  

You laughed. “Missy? Is that the best the great Executive Nakahara has, most feared executive?” You don’t know what made you so bold, maybe it was being alone with him, maybe it was being so casual, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop if you wanted to.  

“Brat.” Was all he said before he lunged forward, it was only half serious, but fast enough for you to barely dodge. The coffee table, the only thing separating him from properly reaching you, was moved across the room like it weighed nothing, you guessed with Chuuya’s ability, it really did weigh nothing to him. With your only line of defense gone, you jumped up, narrowly avoiding his hands wrapping around one of your arms as a excited laugh fell from your lips.  

“I was expecting more from a big tough executive,” You taunted, though a feeling in your chest led you to believe you may grow to eat those words later. “Can’t catch a little girl?” Chuuya stared at you for a moment, blue eyes boring into yours, a look of mischief in his smile.  

“I was going easy on you,” He started. “But now that you’re gonna get cocky I guess I gotta teach you something, huh?” Your heart leaped into your throat as he lunged at you again, this time undeterred by the coffee table, his hand reaching your forearm before you could dodge him, not like you’d be able to even on your best day when he was being serious. He yanked you forward, his other hand finding your lower back, one of his legs coming behind your own to pull it out from under you and suddenly you were heading for the ground, but what should have been a hard impact was a gentle glide onto the soft rug beneath. Your back touched the floor, one of your arms still trapped in his grasp, holding it over your head as he hovered over you. You breathed hard, trying to catch your breath. “Anything else you’d like to say?” Chuuya prompted, a cocky grin on his face. You shook your head, suddenly realizing just how close he was to you, hovering just above you, only inches from your face, if you leaned up just slightly, it would only take a little. Chuuya seemed to come to the same realization, his eyes suddenly wide as he stared at you, but he didn’t back away, didn’t release your arm or let you get up. 

The sun was beginning to set outside, rays of orange and yellows spilling into the room, reflecting off of the light floors and walls, painting Chuuya’s copper hair in flames as it fell around his slender face, his eyes holding more shades of blue than you remember last seeing, you wanted to count them. Without thinking your other hand, the one not pinned the floor, came up, gently brushing a stray piece of red hair away from his face, holding it out of the way so you could see him properly. His eyes darted from your own down to your lips and back again. He leaned down slowly, slow enough to give you time to tell him to stop, not that you wanted to. You met him in the middle, a gentle press of lips, a chaste kiss, cautious and experimental. Fireworks went off in your brain as you separated, but it wasn’t long before his lips were on yours once more, this kiss much more hungry than the first, the first had been innocent, curious, it said ‘I like you’. This kiss was sure, absolute in its devastation as you let him steal your breath away, let him press you into the floor, when he started to pull away, lifting your head to chase him, pulling him back to you with nothing more than a hungry kiss, it said ‘I want you’. He released your arm, you quickly wrapped it around his neck, pulling him down toward you as his free hand went to the back of your knee, hiking it up and over his hip as he settled between your legs. The heat that had been building in your abdomen all day was beginning to overflow, overtake you as your other arm tangled in his hair, giving a swift tug and drawing a gasp from his lips. You took advantage of the moment to introduce your tongue to his, memorizing his taste, unsure what the noise was that you produced, but seemed to spur him on as he gave a rough roll of his hips, perfectly positioned to pull a ragged gasp from you. He pulled his lips away from you, but not far, close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin as he panted against you, his nose occasionally brushed yours.  

“Tell me to stop.” He panted, so close you could feel the words on your lips.  

“No.” You whispered back, surging forward to capture his lips again, he didn’t stop you, instead his other hand coming up to cradle your jaw as he tilted your head upward, giving himself better access as he plunged his tongue into your mouth. His thumb was over your pulse point, no doubt feeling how rapid your heart was beating. He broke the kiss, but only to trail his lips over your jaw, pressing heated kisses against your throat, sucking hard against your pulse, ripping a broken moan from your lips. It was going to leave a mark, one that would last beyond just tonight, you felt heat between your legs at the thought. His lips returned to yours, though the kiss had devolved back into something sweet, still hungry and passionate, but gentle. Suddenly he broke the kiss, rising to sit up on his knees as you looked up at him curiously. His hand rested on the outside of your thigh, his other coming up to push strands of hair out of his face.  

“As much as I would love to fuck you on the floor,” He panted as he caught his breath. You felt the coil in your core tighten at the words. “That may be better suited for a day when my muscular system isn’t screaming.” Right, you’d forgotten about that, he was supposed to be resting. You rose to sit before him, pushing some of your hair out of your face.  

“We don’t have to...” You lead on, not quite saying the words. “Tonight, if it’s too much, we can always-” 

“That’s not what I said,” He stopped you, leaning down to place a chaste kiss to your lips. “I still want to have sex, just not on the floor....If you still want to, that is-” 

“Yes.” You didn’t let him finish as you got to your knees, a hand hooking behind his jaw to pull him to your lips, reveling in his taste for a moment. “Yes, I want to.” You whispered against his lips. Without another word, he pulled you off the floor by hand before guiding you across the apartment toward his bedroom.  

The second the door closed he was back on you, his hands grasping tightly at your hips as he stole your lips in a heated kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as your tried to pull him closer. You let him back you up toward the bed, climbing up onto it and coaxing him to follow, on your knees as you slipped your hands under the hem of his shirt, memorizing the feel of his abs against your fingertips as you pushed his shirt up and off, finally breaking the kiss to get it off and tossed to the other side of the room. Your breath escaped you when you looked at him, he didn’t seem real as you lowered your head to plant heated kisses over his shoulder and up his neck, pulling the sweetest gasps from his lips as your hands tracked up his torso until your lips once again met his. You let him coax you onto your back, once again settling between your legs as his lips found your neck, you tilting your head up to allow him better access. He nipped at your skin as his hands ventured lower, slipping under your shirt to hike it up, moving to pull it off to join his on the floor. His lips ventured to your chest, moving down until he reached the fabric of your bra, one hand moving behind your back to make quick work of the clasp before the item was discarded. He raked over you with his heated gaze, his eyes igniting fires over your skin as he lowered himself over you once more, his lips tracing the swell of your breasts as his hands ventured lower to grab at the skin above your waistband, grip tight enough to bruise. You arched your back at the sensation of his tongue laving over one of your peaked nipples, drawing a desperate gasp from your lips as one of his hands came up to kneed at your other breast. Your mind was foggy, unable to focus on anything but him, but his touch, his lips, his tongue.  

He rose again, his hands making a quick downward journey to the button of your pants, popping it open before yanking roughly at your waistband, dragging the fabric down your thighs along with your panties, throwing the clothing across the room as he took you in, laid out before him like a meal. He leaned forward, taking your hands in his as he intertwined your fingers, pinning your hands above your head as he caught your lips in a heated kiss, grinding his still clothed erection hard against your bare core, ripping a moan from your throat, which he took advantage of to thrust his tongue back into your mouth. 

“This is how that night in my office would have ended if that courier hadn’t walked in.” Chuuya panted against your lips.  

“Fucking courier.” You said as you hastily reconnected your lips, he gave a huff of a laugh before once again descending your body, lips tracing a searing trail down your torso until he was pressing heated open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, sucking dark marks there, marks that would last days, marks that no one would ever see except him.  

“I was thinking of all the ways I could have you over my desk.” He confessed as he kissed up your thigh, toward where you were wanting most. “I wanted to devour you right then and there.”  

“I would have let you.” You confessed back. “I was so desperate for you to kiss me.” You let out a gasp as he placed a kiss to your core.  

“Live up to your expectations?” He breathed against you, sending sparks up your spine. All you could do was nod as he licked a hot strip from your entrance to your clit, hands coming to pin down your hips as he worked to unravel you. Your hands tangled in his hair as he repeated the motion, his blue eyes looking up to meet yours before he gave a rough suck to your swollen clit, a ragged moan ripped out of you. He explored you, watched your reactions as he worked his tongue over you, devouring you like a starving man as you could do nothing but pull at his hair and scream. You really hoped his walls weren't too thin or else his neighbors would be getting quite the experience.  

He abused your swollen clit as one of his hands released your hip, instead coming to tease at your entrance with his fingers, pushing two inside of you and curling upward, searching for the spot that would leave you gasping and seeing stars. He found it soon enough, ripping a broken wail from your throat as he scissored his fingers, curling them again to hit that perfect spot paired with a particularly rough suck to your clit. If he kept this up you would lose your voice before he even fucked you, not that he seemed bothered by that as he doubled his efforts, pulling moans and gasps from your lips one after the other. Your grip in his hair must have been painful, but he didn’t falter as he added a third finger, curling up again and sucking hard. You were quickly approaching the edge, attempting to rock your hips against his tongue, but his grip was unyielding. You arched your back as he pushed you over the edge, tearing the most mind-blowing orgasm out of you that you’d ever had.  

You were panting, attempting to catch your breath as he pulled his fingers from you, kissing up your body until his lips found yours, shoving his tongue roughly into your mouth as your hands ventured down, slipping your fingers under the waistband of his joggers and palming his hardened erection through his boxers. He moaned into your mouth as he bucked into your hand, seeking more friction. Finally, he pulled away, hands going to his waistband and pulling the fabric down and over his hips, pulling his boxers with it as he dragged the garment down his thighs and off, dropping them to the floor. You stared at him, at his newly freed cock, your breathing becoming heavier and the desire to take him into your mouth rising from your chest. You wanted him to cum down your throat, wreck you beyond repair, ruin you for anyone else, you wanted to be claimed by him.  

“See something you want?” He asked in his cocky tone as he lowered himself over you again, his heavy cock grinding against your core in the most delicious of ways. You reached up and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you ground your hips up, absorbing his resulting hiss into your soul.  

“Thinking about choking on your cock.” You said bluntly, and you swear you saw him stall out.  

“Another time.” He choked out as he reached over to his bedside table, pulling open the drawer to retrieve one of the condoms inside. Ripping open the foil package he slid the condom over his hard cock, tossing the foil aside and lowering back down to your level, balancing himself on one elbow as the other hand reached down to align himself with your entrance as he placed a passionate kiss to your lips. He pushed the head inside, stretching you open as he pushed further. Your legs came to wrap around his waist as he slowly entered you. The burn was intoxicating as he stretched you, body conforming around his cock, welcoming him into your velvet walls, clenching around him and hearing him hiss against your lips. His pelvis met yours, fully seated inside of you, where he belonged as far as you were concerned as you adjusted to feeling of him so deep. He fit perfectly, like he was made for you, made for your body. You canted your hips up, and indicator for him to move as you moved to pressing hot kisses to his neck and jaw. He pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back in steadily, his breath catching in his throat. The next time he did it, he thrust back in a little faster, pulling a silken moan from your lips as he caged you in, a hand on either side of your head as once again he pulled nearly all the way out before thrusting back in quickly. You sucked in a breath at the impact as he did it again, his pace picking up as he repeatedly thrust in and out of your slick pussy.  

“Don't stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” you chanted as your fingers wrung into the pillows behind your head, legs spreading as far as you could possibly get them as you tried to pull him deeper. He hooked his hand under your thigh, hiking it up further, allowing him to get that much deeper, ramming perfectly into that spot inside you and tearing a scream from your throat. He moaned into the flesh of your throat as you clenched around him.  

His pace quickened further, thrusting hard enough to shove you a few inches up the bed. You dug your fingernails into his shoulders, trying to get him closer as you arched your back into his chest, feeling your orgasm approaching once more. He bit into the flesh of your shoulder as his pace stuttered, a broken moan escaping his throat as he pulled you closer.  

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, crashing over you as you wailed out for him, chanting his name as he fucked you through it, thrusts becoming less organized as he neared his own collapse over the edge. He gasped into your ear as his own orgasm hit, cumming into the condom as you wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a kiss into his sweat dampened hair as he came down and slowed inside of you, but not yet pulling out.  

“Fucking Christ.” Chuuya panted against your throat, collecting himself.  

“Jesus had nothing to do with that.” You replied, earning the smallest of laughs. Slowly he pulled out of you, discarding the condom before collapsing next to you. You turned to your side, resting your head over his chest as you listened to his rapid heartbeat as it steadily slowed. “Not what I had expected to happen when I came over here.” You breathed. Chuuya huffed out a laugh above you.  

“Wasn’t on my to do list either.” Chuuya’s fingers drifting up and down your bare back as sweat cooled over your skin. “But if this is what happens after I use corruption from now on, I’ll have to find more excuses to use it.” You gave a halfhearted slap to his chest as you placed a kiss to his throat.  

****************** 

Your back hit the edge of your desk as Chuuya walked you backward, his hands on either of your hips and his tongue exploring your mouth as he kissed you. Your hands tangled in his hair as he slipped his hands under your shirt, teasing at the flesh just above your waistband. It was the first day of a new report season and your first day back in the office.  

“I love this skirt.” Chuuya murmured against your lips as he played with the hem of your skirt, a simple black pencil skirt that you’d had for years.  

“Just the skirt?” You asked.  

“Well, the girl inside of it is pretty nice too.” He joked, earning a playful slap to his chest as you kissed him again. it had been two weeks since that night and the two of you had been taking advantage of every spare moment to have your hands on each other, spending every night at one of your houses, more often than not ending up in bed together or that one time when he did actually fuck you on the floor, the two of you had never done anything in the office though, too afraid of getting caught, that anxiety suddenly rising back into your chest as your hands found his wandering ones, stilling them as you broke the kiss.  

“Best behavior at work.” You whispered.  

“I’m always on my best behavior.” He rebutted as the sound of a door opening broke into the silence of your little world.  

“Well, what do we have here?” Kouyou’s voice chimed through the air, forcing Chuuya to take a hasty step back. “Oh no need to act so surprised, I was wondering how long it would take, Chuuya I was expecting you to be faster.” You saw the blush rise to your boyfriend’s cheeks, alongside an annoyed glare shot toward his mentor.  

“You planned this didn’t you?” Chuuya deadpanned.  

Kouyou chuckled. “Don’t confuse me with Mori, boy. However, did I see a pretty girl and think, ‘she would be perfect for my little Chuuya’? Perhaps.”  

“Kouyou-” You started but were quickly cut off.  

“Anyway, important work to get to, you two have fun, no sex in the office please, or if you do, clean up after yourselves.” And with that she was gone, just the way she had come, leaving a very flustered couple in her wake.  

[steveharrington]

do you theories as to why the duffers refuse to give steve any emotional moments? i remember you writing once that they like steve but don't know how to write him and i'm curious if you still think that. sometimes i feel like they just like making fun of him given how much that feels like it ramps up every season

i definitely do still think that and honestly to this day the reason why simply eludes me :( nearly every other character in ST gets to have at least one moment to reflect on all the traumatizing shit that's happened to them. will, joyce, hopper, el, nancy, and max have all had plotlines specifically discussing trauma. and even those who haven't necessarily had enduring plotlines like mike, dustin, lucas, jonathan, even eddie get these very serious moments where they respond to the situation they're in/have been in and get to show emotion and be sad and upset and angry, but steve is just like wiped clean every single episode. even he was beaten half to death or tied up and tortured or dragged along the ground and bitten by upside down creatures in the previous episode, he's always just like crackin jokes and showing literally 0 acknowledgment within 10 minutes. the Only time after the dive that steve seems to remember that he's half dead is when he goes "what about the army of bats?" and gestures at his neck. and i genuinely dont understand the reason like it puzzles me it keeps me awake at night.....he's a beloved fan favorite character, potrayed by a very strong actor who would absolutely body any emotional scenes they give him, and yet they just. point blank refuse. it makes steve's character almost like......meaningless in a sense. what is the point of a character who doesn't react to the story happening around them, who experiences the craziest shit ever and just takes it in stride without batting an eye, who is used to raise the stakes for about 10 minutes each season by getting beaten up and then just seemingly forgets it happened? i guess when the duffers see steve they really only see him as like funny babysitter guy OR 1/2 of stancy, so they just don't even think to explore what he's been through. he's only allowed to be sad when it's about his love life. ive never seen a character so nonresponsive to the shit that happens to them and atp its like why even have steve on the show

[thedawningofthehour]

I’ve finally finished the chapter!!! :) now I can ask about it.

I don’t know about you but I despise sandels. I would wack him upside the head too. They’re uncomfortable and make weird noises on the floor. They’re just really weird to me I guess. So I appreciate Hueso.

I don’t know if she’s been talked about before in the fic but I assume the girl is Kendra. She always seemed to have a lollipop of some sort on her. I miss watching her and Donnies fights in the show. They were always really funny.

I speak from experience when I say that this ^ is one of the most accurate descriptions I have ever read. When something traumatic happens people brains have a really cool function of forget, ignore/deactualize (is that a word?) or break down. From personal experience I understand the “I know this is really bad but it’s bad to the point of my brain giving up comprehending it and it simply doesn’t compute as anything worth my attention.” I don’t remember from my psych class last year what the name of it is, but I know theres a psychological name for it.

If this is going where I hope it’s going, i’m really excited! Gale isn’t the type of person to see something like that and leave it be. So i’m excited to see what he does with the info.

This made me want to cry. Thats all.

Love your work! Have a great day/evening/night. Can’t wait for the next update :)

Oh yeah, they are loud. I wasn't even really thinking about it from that direction, but Leo would absolutely be the dumb bitch who wore flipflops to a stealth mission.

Soup made a comment about him wearing socks with sandals and like-to confirm, Leo has the fashion sense of a dead shrimp and would totally wear socks with sandals. Both because he's just that bad at being gay and also to annoy Donnie. But in this particular instance Hueso wanted to make sure he was wearing good walking shoes so his feet wouldn't be sore at the end of the day. (and he's not going barefoot because wtf they're probably immune to HIV but don't go tempting fate here)

I actually very much prefer sandals. I went to college way up north and I would take my trash out in flipflops when it was like -30 out. (I was also very stupid, so don't do this)(not that you can, it doesn't get that cold anymore)

Anita's a Yokai, so no her granddaughter is not Kendra. The Purple Dragons will have another cameo (maybe get a mention in the recovery arc, we'll see) but since everything else has ballooned we just haven't gotten to them.

Which is honestly really funny to me, because Kendra clearly considers herself very important and probably makes the 'Othello Von Ryan's ARCH ENEMY' thing a point of pride. Meanwhile Donnie straight-up doesn't remember her and his brothers are like

A lot of what Leo does is disassociate and compartmentalize, so he's very, very good at going "I know this is objectively horrific, but it also looks kind of sick. I kinda want to poke it with a stick."

Which is a very real and valid trauma response! Not everyone responds to shit the same way. For some people, turning off the 'holy shit' part of their brain or making light of it, that's literally their way of trying to process the thing. And it has its uses. It probably served Leo very well during the Krang war, when things went to shit and he was able to stay rational while everyone around him was panicking.

The problem being, of course, that Leo never unpacks that compartment and just lets it fester. So it just gets worse and worse until something finally rips it all free.

I think this was the first real Cass-Gale fight? Besides little arguments and teasings. I mean, they're siblings, and they're under a ton of stress right now. They're both ready to crack.

I considered having Cass storm off and ending it there, but I didn't really like that. Gale knows that he isn't really mad at Cass, and Cass knows that Gale was lashing out. They're both socially stupid but they know each other. At the end of the day, they'll always have each other's back.

[mechwife]

Talking about life stuff ig

Married life has been wonderful so far. im so happy i can call my boyfriend my husband now and he’s so sweet and caring and protective. I know we’re happy and I feel incredibly blessed.

It’s been hard though. Not being married, but other stuff. My uncle passing away left a huge void in my chest and it still hurts, ive been thinking about him every day and I know my other family members have been too. It still feels surreal.

i think the news of his passing and stress kicked me over the edge. I threw up blackish stuff and my stomach hurts a lot when i experience even a little stress or anxiety.

i saw my doctor and she said it’s either a stomach ulcer or im pregnant. i kind of doubt im pregnant yet, but there’s nothing wrong with being mindful. im pretty sure it’s an ulcer though, ive read up on symptoms and they make a lot of sense with how ive been feeling physically.

im on some (more) meds and my doctor said they’re chemo grade painkillers. They taste awful. They do help my tummy though, which is nice.

i feel like im still picking up pieces from my uncles passing. i feel like im trying to learn how to accept that he’s gone and it’s so hard. ive never experienced the death of someone close to me before, so i guess im devastated. I’ve never felt like this in my life except for losing pets.

im remembering more traumatic crap from my horrific childhood. its hard trying to take care of adult responsibilities when both my mental and physical health isn’t the best right now. i know its not the worst thing ever to deal with, but i guess its new and unpleasant territory so navigating things has been difficult.

i really wanna make more art and create stuff. i sprained my left (non dominant) arm so i couldn’t even practice drawing with that arm lol.

On the upside, my cousin who went to art school was around for our uncles funeral said my left handed drawings are improving, and my sibling said im improving rapidly. so that’s cool. i kinda hope i can learn how to draw better with my left hand than i do my dominant hand. It would be funny.

anyways. it’s been a lot and busy.

[skullearrings]

new year thoughts

it’s perhaps a bit early to get all emotional about the year ending but i’m gonna do it anyway

i can’t remember exactly the last time i ended a year going “thank fuck that’s over”. was it 2016? 2020? the ends of both those years, despite the huge challenges that preceded them, had upswings. i felt like i was starting a new phase in my life each of those times. if i feel that way this year, it’s because i’ve had to claw my way out and desperately grasp onto whatever hope i could find. if that sounds unbearable i don’t mean for it to - it’s a plus to me that i’m able to find hope at all after the hell my mind put me through.

genuinely, things are looking up. i’m setting boundaries where i need to, i’m stepping out of my comfort zone and growing as a result, i’m feeling a creative spark come back (even if it hasn’t found its way to making new music yet). i know that people care about me and are willing to help me when i need it. i don’t miss twitter at all - well, maybe in the way you miss hanging out with someone who was super bad for you but sometimes made you laugh, then you remember how much happier you are without them and go “there are other, better things that make me laugh”. if i post there again it’s either going to be stuff from here (the tumblr format is much more comfortable for me) or announcements of new music, should that come.

this has been mentioned in passing on said twitter page but i had the upsetting and surreal experience a couple months ago of attending a concert from my newest favorite band which ended with the lead singer having an almost-fatal medical emergency. sorry to be so vague i’d just never forgive myself if the band searched their name and found me on here going off about how they traumatized me. i don’t like using that word but i’ve had lasting effects from being there that night that i’m still working on overcoming. if there’s any upside, it’s that one of those effects has been “fuck it, if my heart could stop at any time then why shouldn’t i do all the stupid shit that i never thought i was brave enough to do. why shouldn’t i ditch all the things that make me feel awful. why shouldn’t i be fully myself.” i guess that’s the 2023 motto: fuck it. we’re all recovering from something so fuck it be kind to yourself and do stupid shit.

i’ll see you again. take care

[friendlylocalwhumper]

8 and 26 for Lux, maybe? (sorry, darling, I miss seeing you scared)

content warning: graphic gore, child abuse (followed by a scene of recovery from said abuse in adulthood)

8: pour salt in my muse’s wound(s)

“No, n-n-no, please, ple-ease don’t!”

One hand pulls the wound open, the deep gash from the knife. Lux squirms, panting and gasping, both wrists easily pinned by the hand wrapped around them.

“You know, this is one of the ways we interrogated your kind.” Above him, black hair brushed back and slicked down so no curls break free, Lux’s father frowns sternly. “Before they died, some of them were half salt. Something about it made their magic shrivel up, they couldn’t heal themselves.”

Ragged sobs spill out of the pinned warlock, face feeling hot from all the crying. His father makes a sound of disgust and picks up the container of salt that he snatched up off the counter.

“Like it or not, you’re my son. It’s my job to teach you what’s waiting out in the world for you.” The cold words are immediately followed by movement. Lux can’t even process that his wrists have been released as one of his father’s hands pulls open the stab wound with burning efficiency, and the other flips the container of salt upside down.

The ten-year-old’s head snaps back, body arching to let out the loudest scream he’s capable of. Salt fills the wound in his abdomen, the agony doubling as it’s forcefully shoved in to make room for more. It’s packed in tightly, gritty and sharp. The kitchen spins around him, fuzzy and darkening, as the boy hears his whines echoing weirdly. Gauze is wrapped around him, big hands lifting and turning him to get it around his back and tied off.

His dad sounds calmer, sated, when he says, “There. That’ll teach you.” Instinctive healing magic glows in the boy’s hand, but one push of his father’s palm against the wrapped, salt-stuffed wound, and the magic is snuffed out, agony twisting Lux’s face into the shape of a silent scream.

Maybe this will finally fix him so that he doesn’t have magic anymore.

26: frighten my muse

It’s a stupid thing to be scared of, salt. He knows that it’s dumb. He also knows that there will be salt in the house, whether he’s nervous about seeing it or not - Lux refuses to eat unsalted food just because his father was a cruel, traumatized man who couldn’t tell the difference between a violent war-hardened warlock and a ten year old.

Still, when Emory pulls the container out of the shopping bag, a new brand, one they usually never even see at the store - the brand that used to always be on the counter of his childhood home - Lux stares, paling. He watches as Emory sets it down, changes his mind, and picks it back up to pull the metal piece out from under the sticker so it can be used without hassle.

“I-I don’t like that kind,” Lux croaks, arms wrapped around his middle. Emory looks up.

“This kind?” He lifts the cylinder in gesture, his sleeve coming up to show off a pretty metal-and-leather bracelet. Lux’s eyes focus on the accessory instead of the container.

“Yeah. Can you, can we - can we throw it out? I can go to the store and get a different one. Or, or… I think there’s some pink salt in a grinder over by the fridge, that’ll last us a couple days at least, I can-”

“It’s okay.” Emory dunks the fresh container into the trash to show that he has no hesitation - but he already opened it, and it fell upside down, so in the silence after his sweet gesture, salt pours out and cascades down the garbage, making a static-like sound against the trash bag.

He looks concerned, now, spotting Lux’s hands flying up to press in on his ears and drown out the sound.

He didn’t mean to close his eyes. When Lux opens them again, Emory’s standing closer, reaching out to pull Lux’s hands down from his ears.

The warlock flinches back so hard that he falls off the kitchen stool. Staggering away, eyes wild with panic, he gets his back to the wall and protects his stomach with his arms.

“I should’ve made sure the salt was closed,” Emory offers, backing off. “And I shouldn’t’ve moved closer. Do you want to-”

“My dad stabbed me,” He blurts out, nervous but impatient with himself. After years with Emory, he’s tired of slow, gentle coaxing to get him to spill what he needs to say. He’s gotten bolder over time, and with his old fear there’s now new self-righteous frustration. “When I was little. Got me on my back on the floor and poured salt in. Packed it tight, dressed it, so it’d stay. That’s what he did to warlocks in the war. It hurt so bad I kept passing out, but I couldn’t heal myself. I had to go to the hospital, he told them that it was some kind of freak experiment with other kids. They believed him. I’m really - r-really frustrated that he made me scared of stupid salt.”

Emory used to react with a lot more horror to these kinds of confessions. Now, he just sits down, scratching at his chin for a minute.

“That’s messed up,” He mutters, clearly imagining the horrific mental image. “I didn’t know you were scared of it.”

Lux rolls one shoulder, as if considering whether he needs to have a breakdown, before he sighs and comes back over to sit next to Emory, righting the stool that he knocked away from the breakfast bar. “It’s one of those stupid things I try to keep buried. It’s annoying.”

“Dr. Tierney says you shouldn’t victimize yourself like that.”

“By pushing stuff down? She doesn’t know how much stuff I have in my head. I have to push most of it down to get through the day.”

“That’s what you used to have to do. But you’ve got help now. You can tell me you hate the kind of salt I bought, I won’t ever think that kind of thing is dumb.”

The warm hand that finds its way onto his back, then up under his shirt to scratch soothingly over itching scars, makes Lux melt forward onto the countertop. “Ye-eah, I… I know. You never think I’m dumb. I just… feel so happy here, I forget sometimes. That things used to be so messed up. And it feels good to… get attention for it, I guess.”

Unfazed, Emory hums, “Well, yeah. You were a kid, alone with someone scary. You deserve attention for it. Even if you didn’t get the help you needed back then, I’ll still listen to you talking about it. You don’t have to just shove it down and try to handle it yourself. Do you need me to get any certain kind of salt?”

“Um, the, uh… the grinder kind is find. In the plastic that looks like glass?”

“The kind we usually get. Okay, I’ll remember. You wanna come to the store with me real quick to pick it up?”

“Yeah. Can we… can you keep scratching my back, just for a minute?”

With a kiss to his shoulder, Emory answers, “Sure, Curls. One more minute.”

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 16

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

When everyones dates go very well

First< Previous > Next

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“Thanks for dropping us off,” Marion slides out Selina's car, Kagami and Chloe following, “We couldn’t take the same route as them,”

“I’d be disappointed if you did,” Selina teases, with an edge of seriousness.

“Thank you,” Kagami chimes in, getting waved off by Selina as she and Chloe leave to hunt down the targets.

“So you’re going to tell him?” Marion whispers through the open window.

“Yep,” She sighs, tightening grip on the steering wheel, “We’re going to go on a date of out own, completely romantic, then ruin the evening,”

“You really think he’s going to be mad?” Marion cringes, getting a reassuring smile.

“At me,” She clarifies, “Don’t you worry he’ll be thrilled to have more kids,”

Marion holds back a laugh at her exasperated tone, “Have fun,”

“I won’t,” Selina assures, throwing back a, “Have fun,”

“I will,” Marion grins, spying on the totally-not-a-date between two disasters will be nothing but entertaining.

Marion waves at the leaving car before jogging to catch up with the girls. Staying slightly behind to watch them try and talk about plants. Chloe trying to sound more intelligent than ‘look at the pretty flower’, not that Kagami would mind. He resists the urge to drags his fingers through the leaves of ferns and vines as they walk down the winding paths of the botanical garden. Too many times has he touched plant life only for it to wither and die later, a side effect of holding his miraculous too long. So he always made sure Marinette is around to counteract the bad luck.

The urge gets easier to resist as they enter a more open garden area, filled with flower patches and green grass. Probably the cleanest place in Gotham likely thanks to a certain rouge that would hunt you down for littering here. He spots the two lovebirds and directs the girls to a nearby tree well suited for hiding behind as they spy on the little picnic Adrien has set up, in a grassy patch surrounded by flowers.

“Oh my god,” Chloe groans, “How can they be such idiots?”

“Can we just tell them?” Kagami asks irritably, not for the first time.

“No, let their relationship take its natural course,” Marion scolds, not for the first time.

“Do you think they’re going to be just as slow when they’re together?” Chloe complains more than asks, “Will they ever get married?”

“Are you kidding?” Marion scoffs, “The day after they get together someones going to propose,”

“Probably both,” Kagami predicts, watching as they both fumble over something.

“Probably,” Marion and Chloe both agree, as the fumbled object gets dropped.

“Well, hey there!” a high pitch voice shouts through their whispering, “Who’re we spying on?”

Marion whips around coming nose to nose with Harley Quinn herself. He takes a step back to see Poison Ivy standing just behind.

“Um…” Marion debates going for his baton, they didn’t seem hostile but they don’t need to be to cause damage, “Our friends date?”

“Ohhh!” Harley stands on her tiptoes to look over their heads, “Aren't they just precious?!”

“Yes,” Ivy agrees to Harley’s goo-goo eyes despite not having looked over once.

“Let's go say hi,” Harley links her arms with Marion and Chloe’s dragging them over to the picnic.

“What are you doing here!” Marinette shouts as soon as they approach, seemingly more surprised at them than the two rogues.

“I caugh’em spyin on ya and decided to drop in,” Harley releases them and sits down, “This looks delicious!”

Harley takes a cookie from a plate, eyes lighting up when she takes a bite. Marion locks eyes with Marinette as confused as him. It only gets worse when Ivy sits down as well, on the grass not the blanket. Well it’s not like he can just leave. Marion shrugs and sits down, immediately reaching over to steal from Marinette's plate, ignoring the plates around him.

“Sooo,” Harley hums partly around a mouthful of cake, rocking back with legs crossed, “What’s ya names,”

“Marinette, that's Marion,” Marinette hisses his name, as she tries to snatch back half a sandwich.

“Oh! Brucie’s kids!” Harley claps her hands together, “You’re the Wayne twins!”

“Uhhh…” Yes? No? Kinda? Soon? It’s up to him?

“No they're not,” Kagami takes a seat following Chloe, “It’s just a baseless rumour,”

“Yep!” Marion agrees way to loudly, “A completely baseless rumours, no fact here, nope,”

The look he gets from Marinette is expected, but it’s Chloe’s lingering gaze that really gets to him.

“I like what you’ve done with the flowers,” Marinette covers for him, alerting him that Poison Ivy had made many more bloom.

“I didn’t do much,” Ivy says, even as the grass around her is a couple inches taller than it used to be, “They already wanted to bloom so bright at seeing you,”

“Really?” Marinette sweat drops, reaching for her bag, “I do have a bit of a green thumb, I take care of a garden back home,”

“What wonderful things do you grow?” Ivy asks with keen interest, Adrien off to the side looking awestruck at Marinette’s composure.

“She’ll be takin all day now,” Harley spins towards the three other date crashers, “I didn’t hear your names!”

Chloe and Kagami startle as she leans further into their personal space.

“Surely if you’ve heard of the twins you’ve heard of me,” Chloe flips her hair, only getting a blank face from Harley, huffing, “Chloe Bourgeois,”

“Kagami,” She replies curtly, “Marion doesn't appreciate date crashing,”

“It’s alright Kags,” Marion assures, he more had a problem with having to hold her back from yelling at them both when they didn't kiss after fireworks.

“Ohhhh, are you two dating,” Harley stage whispers, making Chloe choke on her drink.

“No not at all,”

“Just friends,”

And not friends in the Adrien Agreste way.

“Ew gross you two dating?” Chloe cringes, “Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

“Oh! Then you two!” Harley exclaims, addressing the girls.

“Umm…”

“Well I….”

“Yes,”

“Rion!” Chloe yells, blushing furiously at his shit eating grin.

“Well let me give you some advice,” Harley sing songs, a not so subtle glance back at Ivy.

“I don’t think that's necessary-”

“Hush now,” She shushes Kagami, “So when you're on a date and some bozo tries interrupting, there's this nifty thing you can do with certain nerves-Or! If you have the tools, a good whack upside the head-Or! My favourite! You get your gun and…”

Marion shifts away, still keeping Chloe and Kagami in his sights, both completely red.

“-And I planted this one three years ago,” Marinette explains, letting Ivy hold her phone, eyes glued to whatever picture was on it, “I know they tend to like partial shade but I found this one prefers to be more in the sun, so I just move it on especially sunny days,”

“Your garden is brilliant they all look so-” Her gaze snaps up to Marion, making him freeze in place, “They do not like you,”

“Um,” It takes a second to realise she was talking about the plants, “I guess not, the plants at home like me,”

“Do they?” Ivy frowns, and Marion desperately hopes she likes Marinette enough to not attack him.

“Well, we have a catnip plant that does,” Or at least Plagg likes it enough to do his best not to let anything, even himself, destroy it.

“You do?” Ivy turns to Marinette, who starts talking about the plant.

Marion takes this opportunity to escape back into the conversation they were having with Harley-

“And if you really want to have fun in bed you can-” Nope never mind.

Marion stands, considers bringing Adrien along to find some more snacks for their bigger group. But he seemed just as enthralled with Marinette as Ivy is with plants. He walks off waving to Marinette as she looks over to check on him. He smiles at the silent desperate pleads for help Chloe and Kagami give him. With a bounce in his step Marion walks off.

He didn’t even realise he had left them alone with two rouges until he was halfway through the gardens. Whatever. Marinette could handle them and they both seemed friendly enough, if not very polite. If they wanted to crash a date he can think of another person that would rather it happen to them.

“So the twins got out of hospital yesterday,” yes because that's a good way to bring up the topic of your illegitimate children to their out of the loop father.

“That’s fast,” Translated means; I’m suspicious.

“Did you look into those Paris heroes?” No she isn’t stalling not at all, this is important.

“I did, they’ve been working mostly alone for years,” Bruce scowls, picking at his food “I don’t know how the league hasn’t heard about this,”

“Didn’t Marion say this Ladybug person fixes everything?” Selina hums, she had been to Paris and never saw anything, they couldn't be that good could they?

"Is that what he meant?" Bruce looks up at her genuinely puzzled.

Selina hides her smirk behind her wine, which she desperately needed for this conversation. She had forgotten not everyone could understand their babbling. Not even Bruce, yet. She merely hums in response, before taking a gulp of wine.

“I plan on contacting her,” Bruce admits out loud, their secluded rooftop table ensuring privacy, “Did they say anything more to you?”

“They’ve had some other things on their mind lately,” She doesn't meet his eye, so they were back to this topic, great.

“Post traumatic stress?” Bruce guesses, she wished- wait no- that's not good.

Selina would rather do this a hundred times over than have her kids suffer like that. Fortunately they didn't seem to be. Which could be concerning in its own right.

“No, actually, they seem completely unaffected by a near death experience,” Selina sighs, they should be right? Thats normal for regular people right? Well they weren't normal, mainly because of the man sitting across from her, who needed to know that, “Just like their father,”

“Tom?” of-fucken-course he had to make this harder, no she will not admit she was purposefully vague.

“No,” Selina feels the anxiety in her chest choke her, “You,”

And nope that last word only made it worse.

“... What?” Bruce pauses, fork still in mid air.

“You,” She places her empty glass down, the clink hitting the table deafening.

“... Selina, what are you saying,” Bruce lowers the fork, halfway between a scowl and suspicion.

“I mean we’ve been at it for years is it really that surprising?” Selina tries to play off, joking tone not overshadowing her panic.

“Selina,” Theres that stern tone, paired with the signature Bat glare.

“... They’re your kids, our kids,” Selina corrects, making sure to meet his eye. No tricks this time.

She lets the silence hang, studying Bruce's face. At first you can clearly tell he's trying to keep a mask on, but it cracks bit by bit. She sees confusion, realisation, panic, anger, disappointment all over lapping. Swirling together repeating over and over again until settling on anger.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” He explodes, pushing her off the ledge she had been on all day, or the last couple days, or hell for eighteen goddamn years.

“Because you-you’re-” She fumbles, so many reasons, mainly relating to Bats in some way, but that wasn't the main reason, “You said you didn’t want kids!”

“You never told me I already had kids!" The realisation hits Selina that he remembers.

If it was just now, or he had for years. He remembered the night she had asked if he wanted a family. He had said no. That he couldn't. That he had a responsibility to the city. So she had left. Not daring to see him when she was pregnant and not wanting to see him afterwards. The next time she saw Bruce he had just adopted a child.

“What would you have done! Huh?!” A child who a year later was chasing criminals around Gotham, “Would you quit? Would you dress them up too and make them fight crime!? I sent them to Paris to avoid that!”

“You know full well I never made them do anything!” Maybe not on purpose, but they do a whole lot for his approval.

“Their kids Bruce! You should have never let them join you out there!” She rants, pacing away from the table.

She gave them up so they would never join her either. Although with how much Marion likes cats he would surely love his own cat suit.

“How would you know what would happen?” Bruce demands, keeping pace with her, dragging his hands through his hair, “I-god- I hadn't even adopted Dick yet and you wrote me off!”

“ Exactly , do you really think you could have raised them!” Dick's his argument for good parenting? Better than Jason.

“Maybe I wanted to!” Bruce yells, anger crumbling, he collapses onto a love seat looking over the city, “Maybe I wanted to raise at least one of my children,”

“I know,” Selina tentatively sits on the chairs arm, reaching over to him, “But they deserved a chance to live without all this ,"

She vaguely gestures to the city and partly to Bruce. Who looks offended at his inclusion.

"They’ve been in Gotham a week Bruce," She slides into the seat, arguing her point before he has the chance, "And they have the press after them, villains attacking, they just got out the hospital ,”

“Hm,” Bruce looks out at the city, not really seeing any of it. “They really are like me huh,”

“Without a doubt,” She gets a slight tug at the lips from Bruce, completely humourless.

They fall silent Bruce looking out at the city. She studies his expression, less of a world wind of emotion now but certainly still in turmoil. He starts to fix his mask back in place, she looks away so he doesn't have to. Looking out at the view they were meant to be enjoying on their date. One that she had planned. Bruce was never going to trust her to plan one again. Or at least he will always be expecting her to spring shocking news on him.

“What do you want to do now?” She asks the question she has wondered for years.

Whenever they were alone and things were calm, unnervingly calm for Gotham. She had thought of telling him. Partly because the calm alarms her, in a life of chaos she felt out of place in it. It would be the perfect way to bring the storm. While cats tended to hate water she has been an alley cat all her life, the calm was meant for house cats. However, thats what the other part of her wanted. For that calm to stay, but to include their kids. Who always sat at the edge of that calm, threatening to ruin it never letting her settle into it. Maybe that was why she could never enjoy it. Maybe now that they were in the storm, the next calm would be with the two of them.

“... I don’t know,” a rarity for the Batman, more common for the man underneath.

----------------

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month

[bluerosewritings]

Gamer Hugs | Idia x Reader

How Ignihyde had managed to have so many students who were good with technology and machinery yet were all seemingly incapable of creating some decent A/C, you'd never known. Shrugging off your school blazer and unbuttoning the first few buttons on your shirt seemed to do nothing. You were pulled out of your lament at the sound of an enraged yell. Idia had already entered rage gamer mode, unfortunately. Souls of Dark must really be living up to its 'hardest game ever' reputation.

Laying out on the dorm head's bed, you mostly tuned out Idia's rants on the absurd difficulty level of the first boss. Idia had invited you over to his room to test out games with him again - since the newest one was a solo game, the two of you decided to alternate every half an hour or so. You'd mainly spent up your first lot of time designing the avatar. You pursed your lips in regret, doubting you'd get the controller any time soon, if at all for the rest of the night.

That was only the first half of the downfall of Idia's gamer rage (the upside being the amusement of watching your usually awkward friend turning into someone who could rival an Overblotted person in anger). The second half was how his flame hair would unfortunately quickly shift from a calm blue to an enraged red the angrier he got, heating up the room the two of you were in. You hadn't minded during the autumn/winter season - if anything, you egged him on for more warmth - but now it was rolling into summer. Add that to the already ridiculous heat of Ignihyde and the lack of windows the dorm room had to open and you were in one of the most painful situations of your life.

It wasn't like you could just ask Idia to chill either. Last time he'd gotten annoyed over a game - weirdly enough being over Cooking Papa - and you'd told him to calm down, he'd given you a minute long high-speed lecture about how he couldn't do that because of this [beep] of a [beep] cooking instructor that couldn't [beep] even [beep] do his [beep] of a job right, like a [beeeeeep]. You'd had to concede defeat to make him stop - and if that was his reaction from Cooking Papa, how bad would it be from Souls of Dark?

At least when he was his awkward self Idia would somewhat listen (even if he usually misinterpreted what you said). Not that there was any way to make him switch back...

...or was there?

It was a bit of a gamble, but hey, you'd try anything at this point. Swinging your legs round, you looked at Idia's hair. Weirdly enough, even when it was slowly heating up like right now, it never seemed to be able to actually burn anything (learnt from a somewhat traumatic experience that Idia still gives you apology candy over). Still, you didn't want to take any chances.

"Idia?" You called.

The dorm head whipped round, eyes glowing in annoyance. "What- EH!?"

The squeal of surprise that came from the dorm head was, you thought happily, entirely your fault. Once he was facing you, you'd pushed yourself off of the bed and wrapped both your arms around his neck, your sleeves now rolled up so it was skin touching skin. Your knees were either side of Idia's, looking somewhat like you were straddling him.

"(y-(y-(y-(y-(y-(y/n)!?" Idia stuttered, somehow both frozen and shaking in surprise. "W-W-What are y-y-y-you...!?"

"Have you calmed down now?" You asked, keeping your chin on his shoulder to hide your growing smirk.

"C-Calmed down...?"

"Last time you went rage gamer mode, you chewed my ear off when I tried to calm you down." You told him. "I figured this would be more effective."

"O-Oh..." Idia's shocked expression turned into a sad one. "Of course... not like you'd want to hug me normally..."

Your smile instantly turned into a frown. You pulled your head back to look at him properly. Well, as properly as you could - the second the two of you made eye contact, he looked away in either shame or embarrassment. You moved you head again, straining your neck so you were at least somewhat looking him in the eye. He closed his eyes instead.

"Why wouldn't I want to hug you?" You asked him.

"Eh?" Idia finally looked you in the eye out of surprise. "Well, because no one really does... except from Ortho, but..."

"I wouldn't mind hugging you, Idia. I don't - I wouldn't be hugging you right now if I didn't want to."

"But you were just doing it to get my attention... it's fine, you don't have to spare my feelings... 2D hugs are all I need, after all..."

Guessing that words wouldn't convince him, you took your arms away from around Idia's neck. Idia breathed a momentary sigh of relief - momentary being the keyword, as his heart rate immediately began spiking again once you started unzipping his jacket.

Red spread across the pale boy’s face, reaching all the way up to his ears. "Wait, wait, wait! (y/n), this is too fast! Please, if you continue, my heart might...!"

Idia desperately tried to figure out a way convince you not to do what he was expecting. Apologise for raging? That was what got you angry in the first place, right? But then what if they were angry because Idia had sounded rude about the hug? He'd appreciated it! Really! Hugging someone 3D instead of clicking the option to hug his favourite character in an otome game or even hugging his body pillows had somehow felt amazing for a change! He'd even say he loved it! But, if (y/n) moved things on this fast, his heart might - no, it would definitely explode! So...!

"Idia?"

Idia didn't even notice you'd moved closer to him. Looking down, he saw you looking up innocently at him, sitting on his lap inside of his jacket and laying your head against his chest.

"I was gonna take your jacket off, but your arms were too stiff to take the sleeves off." You said, poking the top of his arm.

"O-Oh..." So you weren't going to do what he thought... wait, why was he disappointed!?

"You're really comfy, by the way," you continued, "What's your shirt made of?"

"Uh, I don't know..."

Then again, taking another glance down at you... this situation was kinda similar to one from an otome game, wasn't it? Where the love interest would accidentally trip into the MC's chest and stay there for a time longer than what normies usually would, or the love interest would snuggle into the MC for a hug for one of the standout cheesy moments accompanied with a CG... the more Idia thought about, the more his disappointment evaporated. Now the idea was in his head, though, he really wanted to hug you back...

"Oh, you dropped this." Your words snapped him out of his second trance.

You handed him his controller, then turned your attention towards the modified screen he'd built for his gaming sessions. Idia took the controller with a mumbled thank you. He turned his attention to the screen too, then blinked and looked down at you.

"Um... (y/n)...?"

"Oh, sorry, am I blocking your vision?" You shuffled down in his lap, resting the top of your head just below Idia's chin.

"Er, no, that's not what I... a-aren't you going to move?"

You shook your head, hair tickling Idia’s neck. "Nope."

"N-Nope!?"

You looked up at him with determination in your eyes. "You said I wouldn't want to hug you, so the rest of the time we're hanging out together, I'm gonna hug you. Okay?"

"O-Okay... wait, no, that's-!"

"C'mon," you pouted, "I promise not to backseat game too much!"

You let out a little laugh. Though Idia’s cheeks had somewhat cooled down, the happy noise escaping your lips was enough to dust them pink again. Well, it wasn't like he got to experience such otome-like scenarios frequently... letting just one scenario play out wasn't going to hurt him, was it?

"Fine..." Idia mumbled.

You let out a hum of approval and made yourself comfortable as Idia reloaded the checkpoint.

...

"YOU MOTHER-"

"Idia, you're going to give me heatstroke."

"S-Sorry...!"

[jcmorrigan]

What movie or tv show scared you the most?

OH HEEHEEHEEEEEE MY TIME HAS COME

I think this was probably the sign I was meant to be a horror fan, because I'm gonna talk about two movies here and neither one is a standard horror film. Now, I avoided horror films like the plague, but I now realize that's because of my aversion to jumpscares and gore, which have very little to do with actual scary stuff. I feared actual horror imagery as a small child, but basically once I read Coraline it all just turned around because that book gave me nightmares but I actually WANTED those nightmares and kept going back to the book. So what are the movies I just COULD NOT contend with?

First up, I have found that a lot of people have said this one, but really and truly, fuck Chicken Run.

I was...maybe ten when I watched it. Signed up for a goofy claymation adventure. What did I get? First of all, a whole lot of bleak color palette that warned me that this was not going to be a happy story. We are then shown the stakes right away: our entire main cast lives in a dystopian prison and if they do not find a way to escape, they will die. One DOES die. This is where a lot of people say they noped out right away, but actually, the execution of the dinner chicken in the first scene was tame for me compared to what would come next.

The pie machine. It's assembled, it's talked about, and eventually our two leads fall into it in a way that is designed to be fatal. Look, there are a ton of horror tropes in this scene alone. I haven't seen it SINCE THE ONE AIRING and I can still vividly tell you a lot of this. And if I walked into a horror film and asked for this, I'd come out super satisfied, but I was not expecting horror from this. First of all, I remember vividly the shot where you're looking from Ginger's POV falling down the shaft and the divider comes up to shunt her into the "meat" line. It's incredibly claustrophobic and you just get this almost jumpscare reminder that the character through whose eyes you see is regarded as nothing more than meat to be consumed. There is then an array of blades designed for close calls, and dough that essentially glues the lead characters down to a conveyor belt so they have to helplessly watch the death machines that are coming. Sticky stuff that roots you to one spot; that's another thing that just REALLY unnerves me and I love it if I'm reading CreepyPasta but I was not reading CreepyPasta; I was watching a children's film. The leads escape certain death by jamming the gravy system, causing the machine to overload on pressure, and here I feel like I should've been relieved that they escaped but instead I was the most unsettled of all when the pressure meter started climbing. I don't know if this film *gave* me a phobia of industrial accidents or if it just awakened what was already in my OCD little brain, but suffice to say that after this movie, I was hyper-aware of my own fear of things like hissing steam, rising pressure meters, and being in a room where large metal things were clanking. (I'm since over it; I've been exposed to it in enough things.)

Now, I was no quitter. I should have just noped out. But I didn't. I continued to traumatize myself. The next part of the film until the climax I don't remember so well - it wasn't as traumatizing - EXCEPT for the part where Ginger finds and rebuilds Rocky's circus poster. And now, as an adult, I can see how that was kinda supposed to be funny, like, "The goddamn chicken padded his résumé and the way they found this out was a circus poster." But little me was invested in these chickens, I wanted them to be happy, and what I saw was basically their death notice being signed with that scrap of paper with a cannon on it. I FELT that in my bones.

STILL NOT HAVING THE GOOD SENSE TO JUST EJECT THE TAPE ALREADY, I proceeded to the climax, in which what happens to Tweedy might be one of the most fucking awful things I've seen ever? Pinned upside-down in a superheated, confined space with rising liquid from below as the pressure meter starts climbing again. And her husband arrives just in time to see her like this but not in time to actually stop the explosion. Thank God it didn't actually kill her because even though I was already traumatized, that would've absolutely made it worse.

Thing is, ever since this movie scared the absolute shit out of me - and was probably the cause of the weird stomachaches I had for A WEEK after - I've kinda had this thing about reclaiming the scary parts and stomping on them while laughing maniacally. I feel like every time I've done a crossover project, there's been a temptation to write in an arc where the mains go up against THE PIE MACHINE and fucking win. And also there's whump with tons of comfort in my version to mitigate it all. I haven't done any such thing for TBTC...YET. But I know what I must do. I know who must destroy the machine and the Tweedys along with it. Buckle your seatbelts.

My final word before I move on is that as I ascend into adulthood, I think that for the most part, a rewatch of this film wouldn't traumatize me so badly. It'd still be gross and creepy in a way I think shouldn't be sent to children without warning, but I could deal with the imagery, maybe enjoy using it as whump fuel even more, maybe my horror side would really get into the peril this time. But the one thing I've realized is that this premise is fucked EVEN MORE if you're a grown-up, because as a child, you're sympathizing with the chickens. You want them to get free of this death camp environment. But as an adult, you start to realize that all Tweedy wanted to do was be a chicken farmer who sold pie, and her supposedly nonsentient animals ganged up on her in a display of unheard-of intellect among farm stock. This would then lead to her undergoing at least one near-death fate. Think about being a farmer in our world and the animals you keep GANG UP ON YOU LIKE PEOPLE because you're killing them for food. No thank you, no THANK you.

But surely this was a one-of-a-kind phenomenon. Surely, after this...after so many other people agreed with me; "Fuck Chicken Run"...no animation studio would ever pull shit like this again.

I had hoped that was the case until Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs.

This is one I don't actually see lambasted as often. Maybe because the Chicken Run trauma crew grew thicker skins before this movie. I only sort of did. Maybe because no one ever actually invested in this film, having already predicted how much it would be garbage from the dumb humor in the trailers. Oh, but not me. I was a fool. Also my family picked it for a movie night so my fate was sealed anyway.

The original book is actually pretty frightening on its own. Food falls from the sky in such great numbers that it starts to destroy the world. Okay, that's terrifying. But kind of in the alluring way. I would keep coming back to the one page about the giant pancake on the school because the way it was drawn unsettled me so, with something huge and immovable blocking off the way to a building that usually has hundreds of innocent children inside. The film built on this and made it a thousand times worse.

Let's start with the goddamn Spray-On Shoe. Our main character is a mad scientist (but the good kind, apparently) whose list of bumbling failed experiments dates back to when he was a child and invented a spray you could put on your feet to coat them in shoes. He then gets laughed at because he didn't engineer a way to get the shoes off, and runs home in humiliation. Guys, the teasing/bullying factor is...not the most worrying thing about this story. There's a throwaway line about how Flint wears THE SAME SHOES into adulthood because to that day they simply cannot be removed. This seems like an incredibly urgent medical problem? Having your feet encased in the same rubber for years? The same rubber as when you're a kid? I just found myself thinking "What if my shoes never came off one day" and that terrifies me, okay? It's stupid and it's silly and it scares me. Even more than that, though, is the canonization of a polymer in this universe that can be sprayed on sticky and will literally never break no matter what you do to it, because that goes back to the pie machine dough principle. Being glued to a surface permanently is inherently terrifying and we'll go over this later because this is not the last fuckin time the glue shoes get brought up.

Flint invents a food-spewing machine. It ends up in the sky. He rides his popularity as it rains larger and larger food down upon the town and also the world. Most of this film up until the climax is unsettling but not AWFUL. Where it starts to go to shit is when Flint realizes his machine is too dangerous and shuts it off, only for the town's local greedy politician to switch it back on into an apocalyptic mode. So can we start with "Local town finds out its elected official is willing to sabotage their well-being in order to capitalize on the fame of a disaster-causing object?". Like, the whole film would've been solved so much sooner if there hadn't been a saboteur in the works - not a fun campy villain, mind you, but a saboteur who exists to drive the plot to the scary place. But I guess we need that narrative tension to justify having a film in the first place, so fine, I'll ride it out.

The main crew saddles up to fly out to the machine, which is now encased in a FLESH LABYRINTH of food, and...I'm just gonna rapid-fire the shit that happens at this part:

-The food turns sentient in order to defend itself. The cute animal sidekick brutally dismembers an army of gummy bears that is fully sentient and rips them apart to devour them.

-We enter the flesh labyrinth and it's exactly as much a horror RPG setting as you think it is.

-Now sentient cooked chickens besiege the party. The comic relief character is consumed by one, only to kill it from the inside and decide to WEAR ITS SKIN in what is seen as his defining character arc's conclusion. Wearing the skin of a dead monster allows him to forge his new identity.

-One of our party has to go back because of a tight passage lined with her deadly allergen, causing her to undergo anaphylaxis after an accidental mild nick. In the flesh labyrinth.

-The entire horrific journey is instantly INVALIDATED when it turns out that instead of the kill code for the machine, all Flint has is a file of a cat video. Which he finds out as the town is about to be obliterated off the face of the earth.

-So he solves it by jamming the works with the spray-on shoe and DID I NOT JUST GO OVER HOW HORRIFIC INDUSTRIAL EXPLOSIONS ARE IN KIDS' MOVIES? DID I NOT? ARE WE REALLY DOING THIS AGAIN? Anyway it's canonical proof that NOTHING can break the shoe glue and I should be happy for the town and happy that there's no more flesh labyrinth of living meat but instead I'm just terrified because of the door we have opened. We have imparted the existence of an indestructible sticky polymer upon the world.

-It's later seen used in a credits sequence to repair damaged houses. Which, first of all, given its flexible nature, is fuckin stupid. It won't serve as an actual wall. Second, that got me thinking about construction accidents involving the fuckin shoe glue. If that stuff gets dripped on a person's face -

-So then cue me sitting awake in bed later thinking wide-eyed about Cloudy with a Chance of Fucking Meatballs and realizing that this compound that is essentially a chemical weapon in the making is now in the hands of the mayor who deliberately caused an apocalyptic event over the town because he wanted the food rain. And THAT'S not going to lead to pretty circumstances.

I think you'll see that a lot of my fears with these two movies is "THINK OF THE IMPLICATIONS!" and I think that just shows how my mind works and why I'm drawn to fanfic so much. I'm all about diving into a universe, exploring its corners, analyzing it to death.

And with the industrial horror stuff, I kinda wanna bring it around to two other films that actually really subverted my expectations and made it fun. 102 Dalmatians was a fave of mine through middle school, but I remember when the climax took us to a big ol' factory and I got plumb nervous. After the usual blades and ovens of horror, the fact that it concludes with Cruella basically wearing a cake and a lengthy montage of the dogs kicking toppings onto her is just one of the most wholesome imageries. She survived the thing and now you get to watch her be decorated Lisa Frank style by her victims who are more interested in humiliation than murder, and I love that.

But maybe more prevalent is that I'm well aware that if certain filmography or plot points had been handled in different ways, The Boxtrolls might've actually frightened the ever-loving fuck out of me what with all the industrial stuff and medical horror, but I just...felt like that film was holding my hand the whole way through going "It's okay." The industrial stuff was framed in a way that was just campy enough and yet also taken seriously. Putting a really charismatic villain - ACTUAL VILLAIN, NOT CHICKEN FARMER OR CORRUPT POLITICIAN SABOTEUR - at the wheel was just such a mitigating factor that it gelled the whole thing together and I ended up LOVING what was done with giant machines and garbage crushers and explosions. And as for the medical body horror, I really appreciate how it was so baked in that Snatcher did that to himself - that everyone, EVERYONE warned him "Do not do this, you will probably die, I'm serious, bad fucking idea" up to the point of Eggs trying to plead him during an anaphylaxis attack, one last time, DO NOT continue down this path, we can find a way to heal you psychologically and get you some self-fulfillment. And Snatcher fully chooses hubris over the many, many opportunities offered him to be able to step down onto a safer path and that removes the fear and pulls it more into a tragedy for the villain. Not at all the same thing as "Sam the reporter is trying to save the world and doing her best until a fixture of the landscape accidentally sends her into anaphylaxis."

(Oh, and by the way, can I just - when I do see CWACOM brought up these days, it's always in the context of "This is the one movie where the guy tells the girl it's okay to look nerdy!". Well, no, not the way I remember it. The way I remember it, Sam basically tells Flint "I used to have really tacky style but have since changed it up of my own volition" and Flint is just like "NOOOOO YOU NEED TO WEAR GLASSES AND A SCRUNCHIE. I WANT A HOT NERD GIRL." This could've been pulled off right with some more introspection into female beauty standards, even in a tongue-in-cheek way, but right now it really looks like Sam just wanted to make herself more glam for a new image and Flint bullied her into regressing her style. Which I've also realized meant he bullied her into dressing more like she did as a teenager and normally I think that kind of shit is just "You're overthinking it" but since it's CWACOM and I spelled it out on paper like that, I'm just now realizing how that can be seen as pretty...icky.)

The one saving grace of CWACOM is that I was older by that time, and so it didn't affect me as hard as Chicken Run. But I still hold it dearly to my heart as one of the MOST DISTURBING movies I know, and by "dearly" I mean "fuck this movie, really and truly." I want to extend my thanks to 102D and Boxtrolls for giving me industrial-horror-based climaxes that were actually really comfortable, and again, probably what drove both of these was the fact that we had a campy diva villain in the lead for the potential scary stuff to surround and radiate off. Not a fuckin...ordinary chicken farmer who is just trying to make bank but is somehow passed as a Nazi allegory for trying to live her life as a farmer? I dunno, maybe if I rewatched that film I'd see she has a thirst for human blood too, and if I could fix fic Chicken Run my first order of business would be to give her a thirst for human blood instead of/in addition to chickens.

Anyway. Fuck both these films, EXCEPT for the fact that traumatizing scenarios can always be recast as whump material, and the next time I wanna do some crossover aftercare from a physically and psychologically damaging mission, I have a pie machine and a flesh labyrinth to exploit. REALLY HEAVY ON THAT AFTERCARE COMFORT THOUGH!

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Congrats on your 800 subscribers! I didn't know you had so many people following you. It seems that ST got back into production. I wanted to ask you, with X-MEN being a strong influence on the show and season 4 even naming the first episode, the Hellfire Club, a secret international organization that faces the X-Men during the Dark Pheonix Saga ( story time ^^' ). Ever since the first episode with Will asking Dustin to take his X-MEN 134 which is a comic that treats the Dark Pheonix Saga and Jean who unleashes her powers, this comic foreshadow a big part of El's arc. But I also wondered, because Will and El seems like twins or have many similiraties like the Maximoff Twins, this could also be foreshadowing Will's story in a way as we've seen him having some sort of powers. But the key thing is Will seems to have many similarities to Wanda. Wanda who is also very similar to Jean Grey.

Both Will and Wanda have a traumatic experience of their father, both have been locked into an alternate dimension or reality created by their own minds, of course it's not confirmed that the Upside Down is a creation of Will but they are many hints about it. Wanda has one son called Wiccan who has also another twin.

His powers are very intriguing, he can manipulate reality and can control electricity. Many things that Will has done. Wiccan is also openly gay.

Do you think that Will's powers could be using the Upside Down as some sort of pocket dimension where he takes his power from, he could control his trauma and be able to heal from it by using it as his powers ? If the Upside Down is a manifestation of his trauma. Maybe we could have some sort of X-MEN group a la Stranger Things ?

Also since the X-MEN have been a strong metaphor of racial and sexual oppression and ever since the 80's, a strong LGBT+ metaphor, do you think Will wants the X-MEN because he sees through the subtext and that the comics helps making him see himself in a different light because of how everyone around him reacts to his supposed sexuality ?

Also do you think the Hellfire Club could be a foreshadowing of a group, maybe the Russian trying to use El or Will for their own purposes ?

Sorry, a very long question, that was inside my head a long time but I had no one to talk about that subject.

Congrats on your subscribers anyway!

Thank you!

This seems like it might be a better question for someone like @kaypeace21, but I’ll address it as best I can. I’m not an expert on the X-Men, but I was really into the 90s cartoon series, so I know a fair bit.

There are a lot of hints that Will’s life has been unkind even before the Upside Down became a part of it. I highly suspect that he is connected to it in some way, and that is why he was a prime target of the demogorgon. He wasn’t simply killed like some other victims. Instead, the demogorgon was trying to capture him. There has to be a reason for that.

X-Men references go back to season 1, so it was likely an influence on the Duffers as they wrote the story. Now that we have the Hellfire Club, another X-Men reference, we may be seeing things come full circle. The Hellfire Club was involved in the Phoenix saga, which was also referenced by the comic Will challenged Dustin for in the bike race. I don’t know that Will consciously wants that one due to his own situation. I think X-Men likely appeals to all of them due to their outcast status. Each member of the Party is bullied for something.

I don’t know if the Hellfire Club foreshadows anything, or if it’s just another geeky reference. That said, a lot of the minor things end up predicting the plot each season. It’s a fair guess that El and/or Will end up being exploited or experimented on by some shady group, whether it’s Brenner, the Russians, or some (ugh) new villainous organization.

I also don’t know about Wiccan being relevant. They’ve mostly seemed to stick to X-Men, specifically the Phoenix sage, while Wiccan was part of the Young Avengers. Maybe it was inspiration, but I think they’re going to stick to 80s comics that Will would have been aware of, especially if Will is subconscious influencing things. Again, though, this isn’t my area of expertise.

There’s just so many layers going on, and so many other works the Duffers draw inspiration from. It can be very challenging to work out what exactly they are using from any given source. Yes, the X-Men has been used as a metaphor for the oppressed, and season 1 reinforces this by having the Party be victims of bullying. The more obvious explanation is that it is foreshadowing El and her powers being the center focus. However, Will constantly being at the center of trauma, and it seemingly being linked to the actions of the Mindflayer, make me think he’s more significant than the Duffers wanted people to initially think. In the X-Men universe, mutants often come into their powers in adolescence as a result of emotional stress. This certainly is where Will is at, and it opens the door for him to unleash his true power.

I don’t know about there being an X-Men group necessarily, but I really would like to see El and Will uniting as a power duo in some way. Kali could be reintroduced to be part of this, which I’d like since it’d make her episode actually seem less like it was forced into the plot. I suppose we can stretch the definitions of “power” so that the rest of the Party can be part of an X-Men type group. We’ve been repeatedly shown that the Party is at its best together.

Now that I think about it, I like the idea of X-Men relating to the oppressed as a way for Will’s friends to conceptualize what he’s going through. Regardless of our feelings for the characters, and how we’d like to think they’re too good to be homophobic, they are still a group of small-town 80s teens. Someone like Steve was the exception, not the rule, back then, and his easy acceptance may well have been written in to show how mature he’s really become. Dustin and Lucas would likely be, at the very least, uneasy knowing their friend (well, friends, if I’m right about Mike) is gay. This wouldn’t make them bad people in and of itself, as their homophobia would be due to ignorance rather than malice. What would separate them from the villains would be their ability to realize they were wrong and accept Will (and Mike!) as their friend. Drawing a connection to how badly mutants were treated could be a key to getting them to understand the situation better.

I hope I touched on all of your points. You clearly put a lot of effort into your Ask, but it was a lot, so I may have missed something. Feel free to submit another if I missed anything or you want to follow up or get clarification.

[beardycarrot]

Alright! Now that I’ve finished Aliens Ate My Homework (kids’ books really are just a couple hour read for an adult, huh?), I have in mind some things that I think are important for the movie adaptation to stick to.

The look of the characters should be the easiest thing to nail... their outfits probably won’t match what’s described in the book (movies always feel the need to change that in some capacity), but I don’t really care about that. What I’m more interested in is how they portray the less humanoid characters. Pong, Grakker, and Snout can all be played by actors in costumes, but Tar Gibbons is described as having a lemon-shaped body with four legs, a long neck, and a turtle-like head with bulging bug eyes; that’s gonna be a fully CG character.

The other is Phil, a potted plant. Basically a big stalk covered in leaves and vines, with a flower where a head would be, who moves around with thrusters on his pot. He has a symbiotic relationship with creature called Plink, described as kind of a blue cat-monkey. I really like how this illustration portrays it; even if it looks more like some kind of cartoonie bug, I would be perfectly happy if this is the design the movie goes for. These two are also going to be fully CG, so unless they base it entirely on the description provided for Plink, base its design on an illustration from another artist, or just do their own thing with it, I can’t imagine them finding a way to mess these designs up... but who knows.

BKR, the evil alien, should be interesting. He’s described as having blue skin, pale orange spikes covering his head (I was picturing maybe a dozen four-inch-long spikes, but the spike density could also be interpreted as covering his head like hair), and... otherwise, looking like Shirley Temple? That’s gonna be interesting, but this is also the character I expect them to take the most liberties with. I can’t say why... maybe just from experience with this kind of adaptation.

There are a few major plot points that I think they have to adhere to. First, that the good aliens’ ship is malfunctioning (the illustrations portray the ship as a traditional flying saucer, but I don’t think the design matters much) and they’re stuck shrunken to two inches tall until the end. That’s... basically the only reason for Rod, the protagonist, to be involved. The aliens need to repair their ship, so Rod has to carry them around to investigate BKR.

Secondly, they need to eat his homework. It doesn’t have to be the papier mache volcano and math assignment portrayed in the book, but, I mean, it IS the title of the movie.

Grakker and Snout have an unspecified relationship... Snout is very, VERY clearly based on Spock from Star Trek (in fact, I think the third book in this series is called The Search for Snout, a play on the third Star Trek movie, The Search for Spock), so it might just be a close friendship, but they share a room on the ship while everyone else has their own, so who knows. At one point it’s mentioned that they’re “bonded”. Potentially Gayliens. I don’t remember what their relationship is like in later books.

Next, Rod is incapable of lying. There definitely won’t be a flashback to the traumatizing-to-a-toddler reason for it, but that’s Rod’s defining characteristic: he doesn’t, and can’t, tell lies. Who knows whether that will be included.

Finally, Rod’s dad having been missing for quite a while isn’t a huge part of the story, but it does play an important role. Him lying to Rod’s mom strengthened Rod’s inability to lie (you’re not told what the lie was, but it’s implied that this was the night he left), and towards the end of the story BKR claims to know where he went, and implies that he’s no longer on Earth. I don’t remember if this is a plot point in future books, but Bruce Coville did something pretty similar in My Teacher Flunked The Planet, so it could be. This is the kind of thing that adaptations will just arbitrarily change, though, so who knows.

So! With all that out of the way, it’s time to watch the movie!

...Okay, first thing’s first, the opening credits of the movie are set to shots of a model solar system, so I’m assuming that’s the replacement for the volcano. I’ll allow it. Also, William Shatner is in this movie? What? As who?? The only adult male character in the story is an android of a man in his thirties, and he’s only there for what would amount to two minutes of screen time at the end. Rod’s grandfather is mentioned, but only once, in the context of “this is my grandfather’s farmland”.

Alright, definitely a modern setting. I guess the model isn’t for a science fair, instead being something Rod’s filming on his smartphone with his mom, twin siblings, and... his dad. Now, this looked like is was going to be an adaptation fail, but it turns out this was a flashback to the night he went missing. Clever!

Less clever is this abysmal color grading meant to represent a dark and stormy night, and the fact that they live in a cul-de-sac instead of being out in the middle of some farmland... but that’s not that significant of a change.

For some reason the story now takes place in the winter instead of mid-May, making me wonder where BKR (in the guise of Billy Becker) is getting the bugs to smash against Rod’s head. More importantly, as revealed at the end of the book, most intelligent life in the universe is about three feet tall, which is why BKR is pretending to be a kid while hiding on Earth. Instead of being a foot shorter than Rod, however, he’s now taller. Weird. Rod also now has his cousin Elspeth staying with his family for winter break, for... literally no reason that I can think of. Elspeth is a character from the second book in the series, but she wasn’t even mentioned in the first.

Grakker isn’t quite book-accurate, but not entirely inaccurate either... except for the color of his skin. He’s supposed to be green. What the hell. They whitewashed an alien. On the upside, the dialog in this scene is all pretty book-accurate. Unfortunately, they lose a lot of points with Madame Pong, who is supposed to be a very calm, understanding, zen character... but comes across as a little condescending. Also, this:

What? What?? Why did they keep this book dialog, when the house is VERY CLEARLY part of some kind of housing development area? I legitimately have no idea what they were thinking.

I also have no idea what’s going on here. Elspeth is... I guess looking through family photos on a computer? Ignore the subtitles, that’s from a weather report on tv. What I’m curious about is what exactly is going on in the photo. That’s clearly Rod’s dad, from three years ago... but recent pictures of the twins? Did Rod’s mom, who apparently runs a pet photography business, Photoshop a family ski trip that never happened? Is that what’s being implied here??

We’re then introduced to the rest of the aliens, and... wow, I can’t describe my disappointment. Remember how I said Tar Gibbons and Phil would be fully CG characters? Yeah, that, uhh... that didn’t happen. I was hoping they would do as much of this movie with practical effects as possible, but I meant that in the “get good SFX people” way, not the “do everything as cheaply as possible” way. They’re literally both just guys in suits.

Yeah sure eye stalks and a thick neck are absolutely the same thing as bulging eyes and a long neck. More importantly, look at that clearly human body with extra legs just kinda hanging off the hips. Phil is just as bad. You can’t really tell from still frames, but yeah, he has two vines with leaves coming off of his human-body-proportioned stalk at shoulder level and moves like a guy in a suit... and for some reason, his flower is split into halves so that it can be puppeteered to move like a mouth. Despite the fact that in the book his flower doesn’t even play a part in communication. They could’ve easily just installed a light inside the flower and explained that he communicates through pod burps, and would’ve been perfectly book-accurate. Why make this specific change. Also, if you’ve read this far, you’re probably wondering where Snout is. Yeah, uh. Me too.

Anyway, they appear to have combined the characters of BKR and Arnie into one person to simplify things (but then why introduce Elspeth??), and for no readily apparent reason, changed BKR, which is pronounced how you would expect, into B’KR, pronounced... b’car. For no reason.

Good GOD is this movie cheap. I appreciate the set they created for the top of Rod’s desk, with the giant pencil and such, and obviously they’re going to use a green screen for scenes like this... but it looks SO bad in motion. Like, see how the shot ends at his knees? That’s because he’s very obviously running in place, in front of a green screen. Also, why are sixth graders learning about the Drake Equation, which concerns the statistics relevant to intelligent alien life in the universe, in math class? I guess it’s technically a math topic, but not the kind of thing you’d learn in pre-algebra...and for comparison, Rod’s math homework consisted of single-digit multiplication tables, the kind of thing you do in like, second grade.

I’m also not fond of the degree to which Grakker is a comic relief character. Like... throughout the book, he’s completely strict and serious, and most of the comedy comes from Phil, Gibbons, and Rod. The first time you see genuine emotion from him is when Rod accidentally injures Snout, causing Grakker to hold him tenderly and shed a tear (again, potential Gayliens).

This is supposed to be the inside of a thick black canvas backpack. Am I crazy? Did I not see the Universal Studios logo at the start of this movie? Why does it look like the cheapest of cheap made-for-tv movies? Anyway. They appear to have given Snout’s ability to slow time to Madame Pong, which is worrying. Did they just... remove Snout, one of most important characters in the entire book series? To what end? To fit in all the stupid pointless Elspeth stuff? If they were hoping to make sequels to this movie, well... bad news, because again, the third book in the series is called The Search for Snout. Okay, I gotta know, is he actually cut from the movie or just a surprise reveal for later?

Alright, I am now officially dragging this movie. Also, I guess we now know where William Shatner fits in... I hadn’t even noticed it was him. Also Also, is that furry pink lump with one eye supposed to be Plink? Why all the arbitrary changes? Did they just decide that since they couldn’t fit a person inside of it, they would give it no limbs at all? Why is it pink??

Eyyy. Roll credits! Yeah, I wish... I’m only halfway through this thing.

They made Rod’s best friend Mickey Asian, which is fine, he’s a very minor character and never really described in the book... but unfortunately, they also decided to make him Data from The Goonies. He’s an inventor. Because he’s Asian. Coooool character, movie. So far it’s lead to an unfunny Coke and Mentos gag and an unfunny Pop Rocks and soda gag (which resulted in projectile vomiting). They cut Snout out of the movie to make room for this stuff, mind you. I’m sure this is building up to some kind of payoff, but I’m pretty sure I’m not going to enjoy it.

Speaking of payoffs, there seems to be an implication that there’s some kind of paranormal activity at Seldom Seen, the hidden field on Rod’s grandfather’s property, and at Rod’s school. I can understand the field, in this version Rod’s dad definitely seems to be involved with aliens in some capacity, and that’s probably where he was keeping a ship or something... but the school is kinda inexplicable. Like, it’s covered in snow... and it’s the only place in town that’s seeing snow. I can only assume it’s BKR’s... sorry, B’KR’s doing, but I’m not sure why. Did they decide that being blue means he’s from a cold planet, and requires it to be cold wherever he is?

No idea what’s up with some of these changes. Instead of BKR’s house being like an unlived-in model home, it’s... a complete sty. The exact opposite of the book. Why. Also, that coffee table is completely covered in video game consoles... GameCube, Dreamcast, PS2, N64... but Rod says he’s got “all the latest video games”. Does he? Does he really? Was that line in the script, so the crew just bought whatever they could find? As for BKR himself...

I mean, I don’t see Shirley Temple, but it’s not bad! Rod wasn’t trapped inside a pocket dimension inside a CRT tv when he took his mask off, but they wouldn’t have been able to manage that scene with this budget anyway. So far, this is the only alien design I fully endorse. There WAS a point to him having a cherubic face in the book, but it’s never addressed, only implied, and I get why they would make him look more menacing.

In the book, BKR didn’t really have any goals. He just enjoyed being cruel for the sake of being cruel, and was hiding out on Earth because it was unlikely they’d find him there. In the movie, B’KR intends to destroy Earth by opening a wormhole (which is what’s causing the snow), and the good guys have about an hour to save the planet.

They kept another of Snout’s abilities, the Vulcan Mind Mel-- er, knowledge transferal, but gave it to Tar Gibbons. This is literally the only thing he’s done in the entire movie. For the record, this was originally the scene where Snout connects their minds, but Rod is startled by it and pulls back, causing Snout severe psychic harm and prompting the aforementioned emotional response from Grakker.

...They just had to get William Shatner to say Klingon, didn’t they. The climax of the movie is all him flying around spouting (sprouting?) plant puns, then Rod throws a banana cream pie (which was, apparently, part of someone’s science project) at BKR’s face... and finishes him off with foam shot from his papier mache volcano. I guess the shrunken spaceship expanding inside of a house, causing the roof to collapse and knock BKR unconscious, was too expensive violent for the movie... but why is getting him messy a solution to anything? Ah well.

Bruce Coville himself has a cameo as the judge for the science fair, which is nice. I think he might be the principal of the school... I didn’t really notice in the scene featuring the principal earlier, since that happened to be the projectile vomiting scene. I can only imagine he was honored to have his work recognized in this capacity... he’s a good dude, I’m sure he wouldn’t be as horrified as I am with the writing and quality of it.

Also the movie ends with the reveal of the actual size of the aliens... which is, uhh. About the size of adult humans. Hrm. Guess they just straight up decided not to get anything right, huh? Oh, and they reveal that Rod’s father actually is a member of the Galactic Patrol. So, that’s a thing.

Please don’t say that. God, was this movie bad. I would understand if they were passionate about bringing the story to more people and just didn’t have much of a budget, or if they made changes to better suit a visual medium, but that... is not what they did. I’m not the kind of person that demands an adaptation remains 100% faithful; if you want the experience of the book, you can just read the book. This, however, changes so many things. Like, in the book, BKR’s crime is cruelty. That’s the message of the book... that in truly civilized societies, kindness is the norm, and needless cruelty is a criminal act.

The characters in the book all either have depth to them or are interesting as sci-fi concepts, but the movie... Gakker is Mr. Slapstick, Madame Pong is Cool Collected Female, Tar Gibbons is... I dunno, wisdom obscured by things that just don’t translate into English and saying Warrior Science a lot (honestly the closest to his book counterpart, though HE was more interesting and actually did stuff), and Phil... yeah, just William Shatner saying plant puns. Bleagh.

Well, despite that end screen, it’s good to know that we won’t be getting any sequels. I mean, like I’ve already mentioned, Snout going missing is a major plot point in the second book, and the third is literally called The Search For Snout. What are they going to do, just skip to the fourth book?

...Oh hey, George Takei.

[tea-blitz]

Alright, I’ve been back long enough to have read through a plethora of kakairu fics, so I guess it’s time to share some of the stuff I’ve found (and maybe drag some other people in this hole with me).

This list is comprised mostly of fics with lower kudos (600 and under). It is by no means a complete list, and you should definitely explore the other works these authors have created!

Please mind the ratings/tags/summaries (will be posting the most relevant tags), and don’t forget to let the writer know you enjoyed it with comments and kudos! Don’t forget to support those WIPs too!

Format:

(link) Title: Status: Word Count: Rating: Pairing(s): Tags: Summary:

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146960 Title: My Hokage (By YukiSkyes) Status: Complete Word Count: 11k Rating: General Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Hokage!Iruka Summary: “ANBU is darkness, Kakashi. It’s the final frontier for those who either have nothing or everything to lose.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/905997/chapters/1753056 Title: Off-kilter (By Kiterie) Status: Complete Word Count: 8.2k Rating: General Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: N/A Summary: Iruka's always known there's something off about Kakashi, but when Kakashi starts acting even more off than usual, he knows something is going on. Trouble is, it might kill him to find out the truth... quite literally.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11827872/chapters/26692503 Title: Mackerel Sky (By pyroren) Status: Complete Word Count: 13.3k Rating: General Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: N/A Summary: After his parents’ death, Iruka renounced the violent shinobi way, disappearing entirely from the Hidden Leaf Village. As an adult civilian, he finds solace in his peaceful, if solitary, life as a wool farmer on the outskirts of Fire Country. One stormy day, Team 7 and Tazuna find refuge in his farmhouse on their way to Wave Country.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/114435 Title: A Revealing Conversation (By Aviss) Status: Complete Word Count: 1.5k Rating: General Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: N/A Summary: Iruka is not amused when he learns about Konoha's longest running game.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3550394/chapters/7817747 Title: Sealed With A Kiss (By Sandyclaws68) Status: Complete Word Count: 20k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Developing Relationship, Suddenly aware of long standing attraction, Mild Language Summary: Clashing over the chuunin exam winds up putting Kakashi and Iruka on the same side, seeking a common goal. It also forces them to each acknowledge his long standing attraction to the other.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5467574 Title: love, in four parts. (By spycaptain) Status: Complete Word Count: 2.7k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: N/A Summary: (we learn, we laugh, we fear, we begin again.) Kakashi doesn’t look up from his book, but flips the page in an insolent manner - like he’s throwing a minor tantrum, contained perfectly and only expressed through vigorous literary enjoyment. Iruka wants to kill him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11906769/chapters/26901720 Title: Hunter's Moon (By Maldoror_Chant) Status: Complete Word Count: 10k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Mild Hurt/Comfort Summary: Ninja live and die for their village. Ninja follow orders. Ninja hurt and kill those they are ordered to hurt and kill, including other ninja. Ninja will hunt friends and loved ones if ordered to. Everything else is secondary.

"I promise you I'll survive..."

'Secondary' does not mean 'unimportant'.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/648846 Title: Knowing Me, Knowing You. (By Josey (cestus)) Status: Complete Word Count: 16k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Action/Adventure, Humor, Mission Fic Summary: A simple joint mission goes awry in a way that neither Kakashi nor Iruka could have predicted.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/267468 Title: All Wrung Out (By ericales (anenko)) Status: Complete Word Count: 500 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Humor Summary: "Hey, how about I fuck you?"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632901 Title: Perspective Shift (By masc_malfunction) Status: Complete Word Count: 3.5k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Injury, Eye Trauma, not graphic, Injury Recovery, iruka centric, Pre-Relationship Summary: When a mishap at the academy leaves Iruka wearing an eye patch for the foreseeable future, he finds unexpected solace and commiseration in Kakashi.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/702148 Title: Upside Down and Sideways (By Kita_the_Spaz) Status: Complete Word Count: 1.5k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Crack Summary: When Iruka and Kakashi encounter an enemy jutsu that winds up putting them in the wrong bodies, things really can't get much worse... can they?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/87118 Title: Taking Care (By theskywasblue) Status: Complete Word Count: 4.1k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Fluff Summary: Iruka gets a cold, and an unusual nursemaid

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19005907 Title: i didn't need the stars to know i love you (By novrik) Status: Complete Word Count: 15.5k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Cheating, possible ooc, Happy Ending Summary: iruka can't read the name on his wrist.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8124838/chapters/18625633 Title: License to Flirt (By Dilly_Oh) Status: Complete Word Count: 5.3k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Humor, Sexual Tension, Driving Lessons..., Or Lack Thereof, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Romance Summary: Iruka really needs to pass this test and get his license. Now if only the hot driving instructor would stop FLIRTING.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/273195 Title: Shinobi Mission: Dating Adventure (By emmykay) Status: Complete Word Count: 2.4k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Humor, Romance, Crack Summary: Dating Kakashi really really (REALLY) isn't what Iruka expected. Kakashi isn't quite sure what to make of Iruka, either.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19371070/chapters/46089433 Title: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.... (By tmo) Status: Complete Word Count: 22k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Adventure & Romance Summary: It is a period of civil war. The Rebel Alliance and the Empire have traded blows for years. The Empire is growing stronger with every attack against it but they had a spy in their midst. Before they could be caught, the spy hid their information away for the Rebels to find. An undercover spy for the Rebels is found aboard an Empire starship. Knowing who this spy is, the Empire have no choice but to blast one of it's own ships out of the sky. Aboard, Iruka Umino is just trying to stay alive.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18394001/chapters/43561142 Title: Fragmentary Assurances (By EternalSurvivor) Status: Complete Word Count: 30k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Pre-Genin Umino Iruka, Kyuubi Attack, Childhood Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Kid Fic Summary: For Iruka and Kakashi, everything changed the night of Kyuubi's attack. This is how they coped with the aftermath.

(Or the strangest roommates Hokage-sama ever shoved together))

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16889997/chapters/39670956 Title: Scars and Secrets (By decaf_kitty) Status: WIP Word Count: 30k Rating: Unrated Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Past Domestic Violence, Drinking, Drunken Kissing, Alley Blow Jobs, Rimming, Oral SexAnal Sex, Dating Summary: It's the start of fall semester at Konoha College, and Kakashi Hatake has re-enrolled after four years in Special Ops, taking advantage of the GI Bill. He's bored out of his mind and hiding all sorts of scars and burns, both physical and psychological.

His old college friend Gai suggests he help at the Rec Center, working with gifted but troubled kids.

There he meets Iruka Umino, the heroic teacher who doesn't hide his facial scar... who Kakashi absolutely hates with a passion... and wants very much to kiss senseless all night long.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19149067/chapters/45511594 Title: three guys and lessons on botany (By rikacain) Status: WIP Word Count: 10k Rating: Mature Pairing(s): Umino Iruka/Yamato, Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka/Yamato, Hatake Kakashi/Yamato Tags: Sex Mishaps, Humor, At least I think it's humor, Konoha is just having a polyamorous dating or fucking culture okay, Friends With Benefits Summary: Iruka is constantly frustrated. Tenzou's Mokuton malfunctions. Kakashi is (marginally) helpful.

Or, why finding out you have a bloodline limit in the middle of getting some is an experience on its own, and the shenanigans just follow.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17831138/chapters/42073652 Title: Night At The Aquarium (By ladyxdaydream) Status: WIP Word Count: 79k Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Romance, Feel-good, Family, Humor, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Smut, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Love, parenting Summary: Iruka and Kakashi were comfortable with their new married life. They never really gave children much thought. They liked their freedom (and their uninterrupted privacy), but one night at the aquarium changed everything.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13258152/chapters/30331065 Title: Strange Jutsus and Where to Find Them (By Kaappihomosapiens) Status: Complete Word Count: 14.4k Rating: Not Rated Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Injury, Injury Recovery, ANBU!Kakashi Summary: It was supposed to be the last, easy mission before Iruka could start teaching at the academy. But life isn't that easy, and when he gets hit by a strange jutsu he has to adapt being dependent on Hatake Kakashi of all people.

He should get a prize from not killing a jounin.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9231542/chapters/20936468 Title: Iris (By transkakashi) Status: Complete Word Count: 76.5k Rating: Mature Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: seals master Iruka, Sensor Iruka, Mission Fic, Trans Kakashi, Established Relationship, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Marriage Summary: legacy /ˈlɛɡəsi/ noun 1. An amount of money or property left to someone in a will 2. Something left or handed down by a predecessor 3. The sum of our parts: the lasting effect we have on others: what is left when we are gone

(Or, the one where Kakashi and Iruka learn what it means to be together.)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/150910 Title: Drunken Kissing Challenge (By thecookiemomma) Status: Complete Word Count: 1.3k Rating: Mature Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Kissing Summary: Anko's drunken request leads two rivals to engage in a new challenge. Iruka benefits from it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15220808 Title: This is Not My Beautiful House! This is Not My Beautiful Wife! (By justdoityoufucker) Status: Complete Word Count: 12.2k Rating: Mature Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Murder Mystery, Yakuza, Hijinks & Shenanigans Summary: That dealt with (for the very temporary time being) Kakashi turned his mind to the primary issue at hand, namely: the goddamn body that had turned up in one of the first floor bedrooms, and the entire reason he'd cornered Iruka. Or been cornered by Iruka.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9906917 Title: Craving (By denilmo) Status: Complete Word Count: 3.9k Rating: Mature Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: If you squint it's KakaIru, but it's mostly Kakashi being a perv, Kakashi on Kakashi, Self-Love, inappropriate use of bunshin, clones were never intended for this, Masturbation Summary: When a promising night fizzles out early, Kakashi's not quite ready to turn in. His wild running imagination about the chunin asleep on his couch doesn't help either.

Or. A steamy shower takes an even steamier turn.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/645980 Title: Perception (By txilar) Status: Complete Word Count: 3.5k Rating: Mature Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: N/A Summary: Kakashi learns that Iruka can teach him a thing or two about perception.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/639436 Title: Placement (By imadra_blue) Status: Complete Word Count: 4.5k Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Drama, Character Study, Romance, Unconventional Ending, Post-Canon, Character Death Summary: Three years after the Fourth Shinobi World War, Iruka visits a Place in Konohagakure where men go to meet other men. He finds a surprise new visitor: Kakashi, the man who had returned from the war carrying Naruto's body. Their subsequent encounter is fleeting, haptic, yet oddly intense. The promise of more lingers in every touch, but remains unspoken.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12317373 Title: Water Fight (By Hexadecimalrebooted) Status: Complete Word Count: 4.3k Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Top Umino Iruka, Bottom Hatake Kakashi, men in lacey underwear Summary: Iruka attacks Kakashi with water balloons. Kakashi gets his revenge and gets laid.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/467213/chapters/807234 Title: The Omega Mandate (By Caeseria) Status: Complete Word Count: 20k Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Cyborgs, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, First Time, Blow Jobs Summary: In the far distant future, mankind lives in regimented cityscapes, watched over by World, who governs everything from behavior to touch. Iruka lives a content but unfulfilled life, until he meets a surface-dweller named Kakashi. Little does Iruka realize how much Kakashi's presence will change his life, along with a secret that threatens to destroy mankind.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4974211 Title: That Shirt (By Elevensquared) Status: Complete Word Count: 2k Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Dirty Talk, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Iruka swears a lot Summary: Kakashi in a sleeveless shirt is very, very distracting.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/644877 Title: Construct (By samsarapine) Status: Complete Word Count: 26k Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: N/A Summary: What makes a man a man?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5464007/chapters/12630950 Title: Of Monsters And Men (By tsuyume) Status: Complete Word Count: 18.9k Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Harm to Children, Pre-Canon, Kidnapping, Mission Fic Summary: Monsters lurk in the deep shadows of the Shinobi world. It's up to men accustomed to them to find the traces of children lost in the dark.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15957224 Title: A Man's Allowed to Change His Mind (By Kiyara_Iris) Status: Complete Word Count: 5.3k Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka,  Umino Iruka/Hagane Kotetsu, Hagane Kotetsu/Kamizuki Izumo Tags: Drunk Sex, Friends With Benefits, Plot-where-art-thou?, Angst with a little bit of a happy ending Summary:  Iruka knows with Kakashi, it's only one time. Can Iruka deal with the consequences of giving in?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19865359 Title: Thought and Feeling Interwound (By tucuxi) Status: Complete Word Count: 36k Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Soul Bond, Jutsu Gone Wrong, Kekkei Genkai | Bloodline Limit, totally invented the bloodline limit, Tropes, Badass Iruka, Paperwork, Pining Self-Doubt Summary: Tsunade walked around the desk and sat directly next to Iruka, turning both of their chairs with a casually powerful grasp. In the end they were facing each other, not the desk. He tried and failed to hold her gaze. She reached out and tipped his chin up, forcing him to look at her again. Another hit landed. This time it came from Iruka's left. It felt like it must have shattered bone, ribs grinding against each other in his chest, and Iruka bit his tongue almost until it bled to keep from crying out.

“Tell me, Iruka-sensei,” Tsunade said. “How long, exactly, have you been feeling Hatake Kakashi’s emotions?"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18305246/chapters/43327082 Title: The Forgotten (By MagnusTesla) Status: WIP Word Count: 11k Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, BAMF Umino Iruka, Youkai, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Shapeshifting, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Magic Summary: Iruka has been keeping a secret. One that ends up forever changing Kakashi's life.

Can he overcome this life changing event and reconcile with the person he loves?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/500334 Title: Appetite (By panda_shi) Status: Complete Word Count: 3.8k Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka Tags: Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk Summary: There is a time when Iruka's desires gets the better of him. And it's really only because of one thing: Iruka is horny.

[claudia1829things]

"BAND OF ANGELS" (1957) Review

"BAND OF ANGELS" (1957) Review I have been a fan of period dramas for a long time. A very long time. This is only natural, considering that I am also a history buff. One of the topics that I love to explore is the U.S. Civil War. When you combined that topic in a period drama, naturally I am bound to get excited over that particular movie or television production.

I have seen a good number of television and movie productions about the United States' Antebellum period and the Civil War. One of those productions is "BAND OF ANGEL", an adaptation of Robert Warren Penn's 1955 novel set during the last year of the Antebellum period and the first two years of the Civil War. The story begins around 1850. Amantha Starr, the privileged daughter of a Kentucky plantation owner, overhears one house slave make insinuations about her background to another slave. Before Amantha (or "Manthy") could learn more details, she discovers that Mr. Starr had the offending slave sold from the family plantation, Starwood. He also enrolls Amantha in a school for privileged girls in Cinncinati. A decade later in 1860, Amantha's father dies. When she returns to Starwood, Amantha discovers that Mr. Starr had been in debt. Worse, she discovers that her mother had been one of his slaves, making herself a slave of mixed blood. Amantha and many other Starwood slaves are collected by a slave trader and conveyed by steamboat to New Orleans for the city's slave mart. Upon her arrival in New Orleans, Amantha comes dangerously close to be purchased by a coarse and lecherous buyer. However, she is rescued by a Northern-born planter and slave owner named Hamish Bond, and becomes part of his household as his personal mistress. She also becomes acquainted with Bond's other house slaves - his right-hand-man named Rau-Ru, his housekeeper and former mistress Michele and Dollie, who serves as her personal maid. Although Amantha initially resents her role as a slave and Bond's role as her owner, she eventually falls in love with him and he with her. But the outbreak of the Civil War and a long buried secret of Bond's threaten their future together. Many critics and film fans have compared "BAND OF ANGELS" to the 1939 Oscar winner, "GONE WITH THE WIND". Frankly, I never understood the comparison. Aside from the setting - late Antebellum period and the Civil War - and Clark Gable as the leading man, the two films really have nothing in common. "GONE WITH THE WIND" is a near four-hour epic that romanticized a period in time. Although "BAND OF ANGELS" have its moments of romanticism, its portrayal of the Old South and the Civil War is a bit more complicated . . . ambiguous. Also, I would never compare Scarlett O'Hara with Amantha Starr. Both are daughters of Southern plantation owners. But one is obviously a member of the Southern privileged class, while the other is the illegitimate and mixed race daughter of a planter and his slave mistress. Also, Gable's character in "BAND OF ANGELS" is a Northern-born sea captain, who became a planter; not a semi-disgraced scion of an old Southern family. Considering the political ambiguity of "BAND OF ANGELS", I suppose I should be more impressed with it. Thanks to Warren's novel, Ivan Goff and Ben Roberts' screenplay and Raoul Walsh's direction; the movie attempted to provide audiences with a darker view of American slavery and racism. For instance, Amantha's personal journey as a slave proved to be a harrowing one, as she deals with a slave trader with plans to rape her, a traumatic experience at the New Orleans slave mart, Bond's lustful neighbor Charles de Marigny and her attempts to keep her African-American ancestry a secret from a Northern beau later in the film. The film also touches on Rau-ru's point of view in regard to slavery and racism. Despite being educated and treated well by Hamish Bond; Rau-ru, quite rightly, is resentful of being stuck in the role of what he views as a cosseted pet. Rau-ru also experiences the ugly racism of planters like de Marigny and slave catchers; and Northerners like some of the Union officers and troops that occupied New Orleans and Southern Louisiana in the movie's last half hour. I also noticed that the movie did not hesitate to expose the ugliness of the slave trade and the system itself, including the reveal the fate of a great number of slaves who found themselves being forced by Union forces to continue toiling on the cotton and sugar plantations on behalf of the North. There are other aspects of the movie that I found admirable. Not all of "BAND OF ANGELS" was shot at the Warner Brothers Studios in Burbank. A good of the movie was shot on location in Louisiana. I have to give credit to cinematographer Lucien Ballard for doing an exceptional job for the film's sharp and vibrant color, even if the movie lacked any real memorable or iconic shot. If I must be honest, I can say the same about Max Steiner's score. However, I can admit that Steiner's score blended well with the movie's narrative, I just did not find it memorable. Marjorie Best, who had received Oscar nominations for her work in movies like "ADVENTURES OF DON JUAN" and "GIANT", served as the movie's costume designer. I was somewhat impressed by her designs, especially for the male characters, ironically. However, I had a problem with her costumes for Yvonne De Carlo. Nearly dress that the Amantha Starr character wore, possessed a low cut neckline that emphasized her cleavage. Even her day dresses. Really? After reading a few reviews about "BAND OF ANGELS", I noticed that some movie fans and critics were not that impressed by the film's performances. I have mixed feelings about them. Clark Gable seemed to be phoning it through most of the film. But there were a few scenes that made it easy to see why he not only became a star, but won an Oscar well. This was apparent in two scenes. One of them featured the Hamish Bond character recalling the enthusiasm and excitement of his past as a sea captain. And in another scene that impressed me, Bond recalled the "more shameful" aspects of his past. At age 34 or 35, I believe Yvonne De Carlo was too old for the role of Amantha Starr, who was barely into her twenties in the story. Some would say that the role could have benefited from being portrayed by a biracial actress and not a white one. Perhaps. But despite the age disparity, I still thought De Carlo gave a very strong performance as the passionate and naive Amantha, who suddenly found her life turned upside down. Ironically, I thought her scenes with Sidney Poitier seemed to generate more chemistry than her ones with Gable. Speaking of Poitier . . . I might as well say it. He gave the best performance in the movie. His Rau-ru bridled with a varying degree of emotions when the scene called for it. And the same time, one could easily see that he was well on his way in becoming the Hollywood icon that Gable already was at the time. There were other performances in "BAND OF ANGELS", but very few of them struck me as memorable. The movie featured solid performances from Rex Reason, who portrayed Amantha's Northern-born object of her earlier infatuation - Seth Parson; Efrem Zimbalist Jr., who not only portrayed Amantha's later suitor Union officer Lieutenant Ethan Sears, but was already on the road as a television star; Carroll Drake, who portrayed Hamish Bond's introverted and observant housekeeper Michele; Andrea King, who portrayed Amantha's hypocritical former schoolmistress Miss Idell; William Schallert, who had a brief, but memorable role as a bigoted Union Army officer; and Torin Thatcher, who portrayed Bond's fellow sea captain and friend Captain Canavan. Many critics had accused Patric Knowles of bad acting. Frankly, I found his performance as Bond's neighbor and fellow planter Charles de Marigny effectively slimy . . . in a subtle way. Ray Teal was equally effective as the slimy and voracious slave trader Mr. Calloway, who had conveyed Amantha to the slave marts of New Orleans. The only performance that hit a sour note from me came from Tommie Moore, who portrayed one of Bond's house maids, the loud and verbose Dollie. Every time she opened her mouth I could not help but wince at her over-the-top and if I may say so, cliched performance as Dollie. I think I could have endured two hours in the company of characters like Prissy and Aunt Pittypat Hamilton from "GONE WITH THE WIND" than five minutes in Dollie's company. I guess I could have blamed the actress herself. But a part of me suspect that the real perpetrators were screenwriters John Twist, Ivan Goff and Ben Roberts; along with director Raoul Walsh. I wish that was all I had to say about "BAND OF ANGELS". I really do. But . . . despite the movie's portrayal of the ugliness of slavery and racism, it ended up undermining its attempt. Quite frankly, I found "BAND OF ANGELS" to be a very patronizing movie - especially in regard to race. And the most patronizing character is this movie turned out to be Hamish Bond. Someone had once complained that although the movie initially seemed to revolve around Amantha Starr, in the end it was all about Bond. I do not know if I could fully agree with this, but I found it disturbing that the character "growths" of both Amantha and Rau-ru revolved around Bond and their opinion of him. One aspect of "BAND OF ANGELS" that I found particularly bizarre was Amantha's opinion of Hamish Bond's connection to slavery. At first, she simply resented him for being her owner. But she eventually fell in love with him and opened herself to being his mistress. Amantha certainly had no problems during that ridiculous scene that featured Bond's field slaves lined up near the river side to welcome him back to his plantation with choral singing. Really? This was probably the most patronizing scene in the entire movie. Yet, when Amantha discovered that his past as a sea captain involved his participation in the Atlantic slave trade, she reacted with horror and left him. Let me see if I understand this correctly. Once she was in love with Bond, she had no problems with being his slave mistress or his role as a slave owner. Yet, she found his participation in the slave trade to be so awful that she . . . left him? Slave owner or slave trader, Hamish Bond exploited the bodies of black men and women. Why was being a slave trader worse than being a slave owner? Not only do I find this attitude hypocritical, I also noticed that it had permeated in a good deal of other old Hollywood films set in the Antebellum era. Even more disturbing is that after becoming romantic with an Union officer named Ethan Sears, Amantha has a brief reunion with her former object of desire, Seth Parsons. He reveals knowing about her mother's ancestry and her role as Bond's mistress, and tries to blackmail her into becoming his. In other words, Seth's knowledge of her racial background and her history with Bond leads Amantha to run back into the arms of Bond. And quite frankly, this makes no sense to me. Why would Seth's attempt to blackmail Amantha lead her to forgive Bond for his past as a slave trader? The movie never really made this clear. I found the interactions between Rau-ru and Hamish Bond even more ridiculous and patronizing. Rau-ru is introduced as Bond's major-domo/private secretary, who also happens to be a slave. Despite receiving education from Bond and a high position within the latter's household, Rau-ru not only resents Bond, but despises him. And you know what? I can understand why. I noticed that despite all of these advantages given to Rau-ru, Bond refuses to give him his freedom. Worse, Bond treats Rau-ru as a pet. Think I am joking? I still cannot refrain from wincing whenever I think of the scene in which Bond's friend, Captain Canavan, visited and demanded that Rau-ru entertain him with a song without any protest from Bond. This scene struck me as very vomit inducing. What made the situation between Rau-ru and Bond even worse is that the former made an abrupt about face about his former master during the war . . . all because the latter had revealed how he saved Rau-ru's life during a slave raid in Africa and - get this - some bigoted Union Army officer tried to cheat Rau-ru from a reward for capturing Bond. The former sea captain/planter ended up leaving his estate to Rau-ru in a will. How nice . . . but I suspect he did so after Amantha had left him. If not, my mistake. And why did Bond failed to give Rau-ru his freedom before the outbreak of war? Instead, Rau-ru was forced to flee to freedom after saving Amantha from being raped by Charles de Marigny. In Robert Warren's novel, Rau-ru eventually killed Bond. Pity this did not happen in the movie. Overall, I see that my feelings for "BAND OF ANGELS" is mixed. There are some aspects of the movie that I found admirable. I might as well admit it. The movie especially benefited from Lucien Ballard's colorful photography, an interesting first act and an excellent performance by Sidney Poitier. Otherwise, I can honestly say that "BAND OF ANGELS" focused too much on the Hamish Bond character and was a bit too patronizing on the subject of race and slavery for me to truly enjoy it.

[biffbeginsat40]

So, this is 40?

I’m not going to lie, going 40 was a traumatic experience for me.

Life was all fun and games until I got past my 39th birthday and realised there was no escaping the inevitable truth: I was a divorced single parent, nearly 40 years old with no serious relationship so to speak of (I don’t count the odd twelve weeks of dates I’d managed to string together a relationship) for almost six years. On the upside, I didn’t and still don’t look my age, I can still pass for 29 (yes, that’s not with a squint either!) I’m super healthy, on the fitness spectrum I’m on the far end of the right side for a mere mortal (thank you CrossFit™) and rock more muscles than a lot of guys, fully equipped with a six-pack. 

That also comes with its own issues. Most available guys in my ‘dating pool’ often look ten years older than they are, the majority haven’t taken care of themselves. So, If I look ten years younger and they, ten years older, you see my issue. Also, my physique and disgustingly competitive fitness obsession is enough to deter the insecure and lazy. I can out-eat and out-lift the average man and my diet and training regime doesn’t facilitate traditional dating tactics and strategies like elaborate restaurant meals and evenings out on the lash. 

The situation, already dire, worsened by the knowledge that my only child would be flying the proverbial coop within the next two years to pursue his dream of a military career, starting with military college as soon as he had qualifications to his name. Proud as I am of this desire he holds, it looks to leave me in a very empty nest, very much alone.

So, I did what any sensible woman in my situation would do – I had a complete breakdown, cried, went head-long onto the grief cycle (depicted below.) Got stuck for the better part of six months in denial, up to and including my birthday and have been slowly making my way through the other stages ever since.

I was so deep in denial on my 40th birthday, I banned any kind of discussion around it. I completely vetoed any kind of celebration or marking of the event, even going as far as to book the week surrounding the fateful day off work to run off for a mid-week-weekend to our nation’s capital with the only man I’ve managed to maintain a non-toxic relationship with my whole life – My son.

Fast forward to today. I’m 40 and some loose change, the last four months have lessened the pain of the event. I’ve spent a lot of time soul searching. I know it sounds cliché but 2019 has been the year of the existential (mid-life) crisis for me. Little did I know that this whole 40th debacle was but a symptom of my very deep-seated issues and not in any way related to the cause, as I was to discover.

Now, before I lose you on the wording of the following sentences, please understand I am very much an ordinary Yorkshire lass, who over the years, has dragged herself out of the working-class gutter in which I was born. But with a dicey grammar school experience (I attended a school full of entrance-exam passing  geeks and was bullied by the other geeks) two degrees and a whole host of qualifications and letters after my name, I consider myself and my son worthy of the status of lower-middle-class. Now, connotations of kale chips and avocado aside, this next bit reeks of snobbery and ‘woo-woo’ spiritualism but, part of my journey was facilitated by and still is supported by a solid mindset practice.

……Stay with me!

Yes, there’s going to be mention of meditation, daily journaling and lots of hard questions. Because ‘mindset practice’ isn’t all sitting on the floor in the lotus position and being ‘grateful’. Well, I guess some people can make it so, but not me, I do not like or accept fluffy bullshit. But that is for another post.

For now, let’s just say that the road is long, and my experience is mixed as far as life, love and meaning goes. This is my experience of life at 40, warts and all. I’m not promising any form of useful insight or ground-breaking new philosophy on the meaning of life. I’d love to be able to offer at least some sense on the topic, but I’ll be honest, even that is a stretch for someone as ridiculous as myself.

Welcome to my Biff’s-eye-view of life at 40.