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russellsppttemplates · 10 months ago

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She fits right in (Oscar Piastri)

You meet Oscar's family back home

Note: english is not my first language. I know I said write based on the order you send them in, but this one got priority for obvious reasons! 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

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Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"How long is the layover?", you asked Oscar as you put your backpack on properly once you took off your cardigan since you felt quite hot, "three hours", he replied, "we can go to the lounge and have some food first, freshen up", he suggested.

"Uuuuhh, freshening up in a public bathroom before I meet your parents in your childhood home, charming - you didn't have to make it so easy for me, Osc", you offered, going up to him so he could lace your hand in his and guide you through the airport.

Even you though you had travelled to see a couple of races from the garage, you had always kept inside Europe so long hail flights like this weren't something you were used to. You felt tired, sweaty, a little bit dirty from touching things everywhere and overall not that great. Still, it was a privilege to feel like this because of the reasons you did.

You found yourselves a table and made your order, Oscar staying there while you freshened up in the bathroom. Baby wipes, deodorant, brushing your teeth and washing your face would have to do for now.

"Do you feel a little more human?", he asked you once you sat back down, kissing his cheek soflty as he forwarded you your iced latte.

"Yes, actually I do", you snickered, taking a sip before speaking again, "are you sure your parents are fine with this whole arrangement?", you wondered.

"They're fine with it, you shouldn't be nervous, they already like you", he reassured. You had met his parents briefly when they travelled to see him race in Silverstone, but with the whole event taking up the schedule, you got to know eachother on a somewhat superficial level. Still, if the first impression was that good, it was a nice start.

"I'm not nervous nervous - at least not in the way I think I'd be, but is probably the jet lag and my body can't afford to have a freak out right now", you joked.

The last flight was spent with you sleeping on Oscar, arm rest up while you were cuddled up to his side, head nuzzled on his neck while he watched something to keep himself entertained and not get lost on his thoughts.

His family's opinion mattered to him and he was nervous to truly hear it. Not because of you - he was sure you were going to do brilliantly, but it wouldn't be the first time in history where seeing things up close, whether it was the lifestyle associated or being faced with what staying in a relationship looked like in the long run, made people leave. His parents had met your briefly before and now you were being introduced to everyone else. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, the neighbour he knew growing up. Everyone's eyes would be on you, and so would their opinions.

Rubbing your cheek softly, Oscar coaxed you out of sleep, "we're about to land, gorgeous, you might want to pop your ears", he muttered as you blinked your eyes open, kissing his palm before sitting up straight, doing as he told you before you fixed your hair, "do I look nice enough?", you wondered.

"You always look gorgeous", he assured, kissing your cheek softly.

You boarded off the plane and walked to the customs service, "they're quite quick at this time of year since a lot of people travel foe the race", Oscar explained as you were quickly checked before you walked to baggage claim, getting your suitcases and stopping twice to take photos Oscar's fans asked once they noticed it was him, "we're counting on a good race for you!", they wished as you smiled, handing them the phone back and waving once you walked to the spot Chris said him and Nicole would be waiting for you in the parking lot.

"How was your flight, dears?", Nicole was the first to speak as she embraced her son, followed by Chris.

"It was good, didn't have much turbulence", Oscar said as he saw your mother engulf you in a hug.

"It was nice, yes", you smiled, "very tiring getting to the land down under, I have to admit", you chuckled.

"Oh, that it is! Last time we did it, I felt so dirty I immediately went to the bathroom to shower once we got home", she giggled.

"I might actually do that, if you don't mind - my whole body just feels icky", you admitted, knowing you had arrived at early hours in the morning already and you shouldn't make much noise to the people who wanted to sleep.

"Of course it's fine! C'mon, let's pack the car and head home!", Chris encouraged you as he put the luggage on the car trunk while you got inside the car.

By the time you got home, Nicole encouraged you to head straight for the shower you so much needed while Oscar got something to eat. When you exited the ensuite bathroom, your boyfriend was unpacking his own suitcase.

"If you don't mind, I'll unpack those tomorrow? Or in the morning? What time is it already?", you muttered as he had closed the blinds, leaving the room completely dark with only the bedside lamp on.

"It's fine, love", he smiled, kissing the top of your head, "you smell nice", he chuckled, squeezing your waist softly before he went to have a shower.

Maybe it wasn't the most polite, but this was going to be your room for the next couple of days considering you had flown in early so Oscar could spend as much time as he could with his family, so you undid the bed. The fresh sheets enveloped you as you tied your hair in a messy bun just to get it away from your eyes.

The last thing you remember coherently is Oscar laying next to you, pulling you to cuddle up to him and kissing your forehead sweetly with a "Goodnight, my love".

You woke up a few hours later, looking at your watch and see that it was already past midday and you were in bed, "morning", you heard Oscar's groggy morning voice whisper into your back, littering kisses on your shoulders.

"Hey", you smiled, turning around and seeing his handsome smiley face, "it's the afternoon already", you pointed out.

"It usually is when I wake up after coming back home", he shrugged his shoulders, "my parents are used to it. Also, they said they'd be having lunch at my grandma's, so they're not home - it's probably why it's so quiet".

"Do they want us to meet them there?", you wondered, not wanting to part your boyfriend from his family.

"We can if you don't mind", he added, "you could meet my grandma, too!", he tried to see if you felt comfortable with it.

"Yes! Let me just get ready quickly!", you smiled, pecking his lips and leaving the bed.

"Why so excited?", Oscar asked as you were leaving his parents' house after having something quick to eat and you got your latte.

"You have told me many stories from your grandma and grandma's house is always the best!", you winked at him before you wiggled your brows.

"What do you mean it's always the best?", he quirked a brow.

"Grandma's are the ones who have the best photo collections in the family - C'mon Oscar, it's going to be so fun!", you joined your hands together in a cartoon villain like way, fingertips touching as you made a mischief expression.

"Did Lando set you up for this?", Oscar said as he unlocked the car.

"Yes! The more I get, the more Quadrant hoodies he says he'll get me!", you winked, pulling his arm to the car so he could drive you both to his grandparents' house.

"Can we come in?", Oscar announced as you both walked in through the back door, seeing his parents sat at the table while an older lady was doing something at the kitchen counter.

"Oscar, my love!", she yelled, wiping her hands on the nearest kitchen towell before she threw herself at her grandson, hugging him tightly while you greeted Oscar's parents briefly.

"And this is the young woman who stole Oscar's heart, how are you, sweetheart? You're very welcomed here!", she said, pulling you in for a tight hug immediately.

"I'm Y/N, thank you for welcoming me into your home, it's beautiful", you smiled warmly.

"Have you two had something to eat? I can make you something quickly if you'd like!", she asked and you both shook your head, "I'm good, but thank you".

"I was actually getting ready to make some Lamingtons and some Rum Balls, too. Y/N, has Oscar ever baked them for you?", she mused.

"No, I don't think he has", you looked at him for confirmation as he shook his head, blush erupting on his cheeks, "I would never make them as good as yours!", he defended himself.

"Well, darling, I'm going to make some for you too then!", she smiled.

"I'd love to help if you want a hand, maybe then I'll pester Oscar to make them for me back home", you smiled.

"Oh, good! Let's get started then!", she exclaimed, getting you an apron and guiding you through the recipe.

"You can beat these while I measure the flower", she delegated, "it has to be very fluffy so the sponge is firm enough", she advised as you beat the contents inside the bowl.

"How is that going?", Oscar asked coming up from behind you as you were transferring the batter to the lined tin.

"I need to use the bathroom, dear, but when you finish that, can you put it in the oven and take the other one, please?", she questioned, "this way we'll have a new batch to work with everytime", she smiled before excusing herself.

"How is she really doing with you?", your boyfriend waited for a honest answer.

"It's been really fun, truly! She's been telling me stories about when she was younger and what growing up here was like, she fed me some of those things, those rolled up things", you pointed at the plate on the counter.

"Those are rum balls! Love, you don't even like rum!", he pinched your cheek before you out the tray in the oven.

"I wasn't going to break her heart and tell her no, and they're not that bad! Just not my favourite things ever!", you reasoned with him, wiping your hands on the kitchen towell, "but it's been good, she's very lovely - and I am this close at getting to your baby stories", you pinched your thumb and poster finger together.

"You're impossible", he chuckled, stealing a kiss from your lips before his grandma got back.

"She's a lovely girl, Oscar", his mother said as she sat down next to him on the chair on the decking outside as they saw his father gather the supplies for a barbecue. His grandmother suggested and afternoon barbecue for when you were done with baking.

"I'm very happy I brought her home to meet everyone", Oscar smiled, "she's really one of a kind".

"Is she dealing well with all of this? I'm sure she's not used to it", Nicole wondered, "people taking pictures, interrupting your day to day lives, you're not always there for her", she trailed off.

"Well, neither am I, right?", Oscar chuckled, "I think she's been doing well, we speak about it every now and again to check and make sure we're both well with all of it. We don't post eachother much, that's been helpful, and she has all her social media private".

"It's nice, she's an incredible young woman, and you two are so great together", Nicole complimented.

"I think I was more nervous to come out here than her, to be honest", Oscar said, prompting his mother to raise her eyebrows, "not because of her! I was nervous because she's the first person I've brought home - like, home home - and I didn't know how you would react with her being here and everything. It's not like it's a dinner and she can run away or leave for her own place if she feels uncomfortable or if you guys didn't like her", he trailed off the last part.

His family's opinion mattered to him, and as romantic as it often sounded in movies, he wasn't sure how he would proceed if his family strongly felt against your relationship.

"Well, on our end, we're fine", his mother nudged his shoulder, "she's so lovely, Oscar, you would be a fool if you let her get away from you. She's smart, caring, loving - she fits quite well with grandma", she pointed to you two with her eyes as the older lady taught you how to dip the cake in the chocolate and then the coconut, laughing together as you seemed to get more on your hands than on the actual sweet food, "she loves you dearly, I can tell. Of course we approve. But, if she wants to make a run for it, well - that's going to be a little bit tricky at the very least", she joked as she saw her mother help you with a kitchen towell, "though that doesn't look like it's going to be anytime soon".

You fit right in with his family and he couldn't be happier.

#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

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defending you (sfw version)

words: 1.6k

warnings: mentions of violence

taglist: @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

nsfw version!

"rafe!" you yell, relieved to see him standing out on his dock. it looks like he's sorting through something in a box.

"rafe!" you yell again, waiting for him to hear you, but you know the sound of the whipping wind is carrying your voice in the opposite direction.

rafe stands, and turns back towards tannyhill. "rafe!" you yell again, and he finally turns, having heard not exactly his name, but an unexpected sound from the water.

"y/n?" rafe screams, his face going pale seeing you swimming towards the dock.

"rafe." you smile, relieved to finally be done with your long swim.

"what are you doing?" rafe rushes towards the ladder as you begin to climb up, legs and arms weak. "the water is freezing and there's a storm coming in."

"i know." you shiver as you pull yourself onto the dock, with help from rafe. you can't even stand as your legs crumble. "i was paddleboarding before the storm came and someone came and knocked me off my board and took it and my paddle. i swam here because it was closest."

you're kind of friends with rafe. he's never been mean or rude to you like you hear other people say, but there's a certain awkward tension when he's around.

you're not rich enough to be a kook but not poor enough to be a pogue, leaving you in a weird middle ground that you kind of love, getting accepted into both groups parties.

it's a party where you first met rafe. your kook friends all tried to convince you that he liked you, that he's been watching you the whole party, but whenever you looked his way, he was quick to advert his stare.

you became friends with his sister sarah quickly, and eventually began sleeping over at her house, using it as a safe haven especially when your parents would fight. rafe always found some sort of way to be involved in whatever you were doing with sarah, inviting himself out to the movies, or to get ice cream.

"who took your board?" rafes eyes flash with anger, the kind all the pogues tell you he's capable of, but that you haven't seen for yourself.

"kelces friend. i don't know his name. that blonde guy."

"topper?" rafe questions.

"no, no. that new guy. family just moved into that blue house."

"luke?" rafe practically spits his name out.

"yeah, him." you nod, and a shiver racks through your body. the water was frigid, but thankfully your hard swimming kept you from freezing. it's only now, on the dock with the harsh wind, that you feel the real chill.

"hold on, let me get you a towel." rafe runs onto the nearest boat, flipping open a seat and grabbing the fluffiest, most warm looking towel he sees.

rafe helps you stand and wraps the towel around you, pulling you into his arms to warm you up even more.

"what kind of boat was he driving?" rafe asks.

you don't want to talk, or think, just want to lay with your head against rafes chest and soak up his warmth, but you're eventually able to mutter out, "a black speedboat. i don't know more than that, it all happened so fast." truth was, you knew it was an expensive brand, way beyond anything your family would be able to afford, so you had no clue what it was.

"and he just came and knocked you off?" rafe curses himself as soon as he says it, because it sounds like he doesn't believe you, but really he just wants to get the story straight before he beats this guy to a pulp.

"yeah." you sniffle. "he made a huge wake that made me fall off, and then he just came along next to me and grabbed my board and paddle before i could get back on."

"y/n?" you hear your name called and turn and look down the dock, at mr. cameron.

you step out of rafes arms, suddenly aware of how it looks.

"hi, sir." you say as he walks closer.

"don't tell me you were swimming in this weather." it is unseasonably cold in the outer banks.

"not intentionally." you shake your head. "someone knocked me off my paddleboard and they took it. i swam here because it was closest."

mr. cameron looks at his son, and rafe gives a stern nod, a silent conversation happening that youre not privvy to.

"im gonna go get your board back for you, y/n." rafe says, effortlessly grabbing the boat keys his father tosses to him.

"rafe, i don't expect you to do that."

"we look out for our own here, yeah?" rafe says, hand coming to your face. you think he's going to rest a hand on your cheek, but his hand flinched and he pushes a stray hair behind your ear.

"thank you." you say with a tight swallow of your throat.

"ill be back, you go inside and warm up, okay?" rafe says, stepping back towards the boat. you nod, a weird feeling twisting in your stomach as you watch rafe going to defend you, going to get back what's yours.

you follow mr. cameron to the house, thankful as soon as you step in the door to be out of the wind.

"do you mind if i shower?" you ask, glad the wind had dried you a little to not be dripping throughout the whole house.

"of course not, let me take you there." mr. cameron loops through the huge house. you swear that you get lost every time you come here, only knowing the way from the front door up to sarahs room.

you meet rose halfway to your destination, and mr. cameron quickly explains the situation. she gives you a quick hug, apologizing for what happened. you're thankful you're already comfortable with them after spending time at the house with sarah.

mr. cameron leads you to a room with an attached bathroom, telling you he'll leave some clothes on the bed for you and then you can watch tv until rafe gets back. you thank him for the hospitality and head into the bathroom.

you're sitting on the bed, snuggled in under the covers, when the door suddenly opens.

"rafe." you breath out, hopping out of the bed to go to him. he's soaking wet from the rain that came in from the storm, but he has a proud gleam in his eye.

"i got your board back." rafe says. "and that asshole won't mess with you anymore."

you gulp, hoping that just means rafe gave him a stern talking to, but as you look down at his knuckles, you can tell it's not true.

"rafe!" you gasp, grabbing his hand and lifting it up. his knuckles are red and look bruised.

"it's alright." he goes to shake his hand out of your grasp when he suddenly freezes.

"youre wearing my shirt." rafe says. you look down. you just put on whatever clothes mr. cameron had left for you.

"i-" you're unsure if he's expecting an apology.

"in my clothes, in my room." rafe mutters, looking back towards the bed.

"i thought this was a guest room." you look around, realizing now that there are way too many personal items around for this to be a guest room, and that mr. cameron had led you to rafes room.

"it's no big deal." rafe says, this time putting his hand onto your cheek, rubbing it gently. it's cold from being outside but still warms you.

"i put your board in our shed. it'll be safe there for now. you're staying here though, the storms really bad right now." rafe says, backing you up further into the room and closing the door behind him.

"thank you but i don't want to impose." you shake your head.

"im not letting you leave in these conditions." rafe says. "now get back in bed and keep watching your show. i need to shower."

there's a new confidence in rafe that's shining even brighter than normal, and you wonder if it's the act of defending you that's caused it. you feel compelled to do whatever he says, so you nod your head and slip back under the covers, watching as rafe grabs a few items of clothing out of the dresser before heading into the bathroom.

the lull of the shower and the tv show you've seen a million times makes you feel the exhaustion of the long swim. your head rests against the pillows, and you don't even realize you've fallen asleep until you hear the bathroom door close.

you sit up to see rafe standing there with a smirk on his face, your eyes dragging down his bare torso, to where he's only wearing a pair of basketball shorts.

you have to hold yourself back from drooling at his broad shoulders.

"didn't mean to wake you." rafe says, stepping closer as if he's going to climb into bed with you.

"that's okay." you whisper, suddenly feeling small.

"can i lay down? keep you company for the night?" you aren't sure what rafes definition of 'keeping company' is, but you nod anyways.

rafe smiles again and you feel your last bit of apprehension melt away.

rafe gets under the covers, and you sit there awkwardly for a few seconds before you lean over, placing your lips against his. it's a quick kiss, not even enough time for him to truly reach.

"thank you for defending me." you say.

"ill do anything for you." rafe says honestly, placing a hand on the back of your head and pulling you in for another kiss, this one much stronger than the last.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron one shot

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dindjarindiaries · 9 months ago

Note

You reblogged that starter list and before I even saw your message, this one SCREAMED Din to me:

❛ if i could be a different person, i promise you, i would be.

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompt: "If I could be a different person, I promise you, I would be."

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

You looked up at the expanse of stars overhead and let out a soft breath. The slight sting of the night's chilled air nipped at your nose, but the way it filtered through your lungs felt relieving. This was the open air; it was much more freeing than the ship you had started to feel trapped within.

It was that ship's boarding ramp you were sitting on, and as you took a quick glance over your shoulder, you saw its owner watching you from within the cargo hold with a worried tilt to his silver helmet. Having been caught in the act, his armored chest rose and fell in a breath as he started to walk towards you. Your gaze returned to the sky above as you sensed his approach.

"I thought you were charting another course," you said as Din took his place alongside you. "We can't spend too much time here."

Din shrugged in your periphery. "An extra rotation won't hurt."

Your head snapped towards him as your lips parted in disbelief. "A rotation?"

Din's visor was stuck on the stars, but after a moment of you staring, he returned your disbelieving glance. "What?"

You chuckled and shook your head, returning your attention to the night sky. You closed your eyes as your heart began to beat more rapidly. The question you wanted to ask screamed within your mind, but it came out as a mere whisper. "Why?"

There was a pause before Din responded. "Why what?"

You reopened your eyes and kept them on the stars. Looking at Din would make you lose your resolve. "Why are you bending your rules?"

When Din remained silent for a long moment, you quickly glanced over at him. His visor was fixed on his gloved hands as he picked the orange-colored material on his fingertips. "We can afford the time, for now." When he continued, his modulated voice was even lower than before. "And you're happy here."

You furrowed your brow at him. "I'm happy regardless."

Din gave his helmet a brief tilt. "Sure. But..." he paused, as if musing upon something, "not like you are on planets like this one."

You didn't know what to say to that. The sweet inhale of the crisp air you took was enough to prove his words true. As you continued to stare somewhat dumbfounded at Din, he added more.

"You don't like being on the ship."

You instantly shook your head and willed the words to come, but they wouldn't. Your throat had closed up around your wildly beating heart as the truths you tied to each atrium and ventricle came closer and closer to freeing themselves.

Din took your silence as a much more disappointing reality. Even his modulator couldn't hide his hurt. "You don't like being with me."

"No." You couldn't have gotten the word out faster if you'd tried. "That's not true."

"It's okay. I understand." Din's arm rested upon his propped-up knee as he looked at the stars yet again. You watched his visor reflect them with fond admiration. "My lifestyle isn't meant to keep people around for long." He nodded, as if he was still convincing himself of such a truth. "I've grown used to it."

His words, a genuine and honest reflection of himself, shattered your heart enough to let the shards escape through the barrier your throat had attempted to create. Each beautiful truth began to spill out in a stained glass mosaic of the image you had crafted over the past few months. "Yet I'm still here."

That caught Din's attention. His visor found your gaze as you pieced your art together.

"I've felt trapped, yes, but not by you or your ship." You exhaled and watched your hand as you set it on the metal of the ramp beside you. It was just inches from Din's own. "It's a feeling. One that consumes me, really. And while it's centered on you, it's not because of you that I feel so trapped. That's only because I know the truth. I know your guard has to stay up."

You huffed and shook your head at yourself.

"It sounds ridiculous to say out loud, honestly, but... you deserve to know." The corners of your mouth pulled up in a sad smile. "Even if there's nothing you can do about it."

Din's visor never left you as he sat in the heavy silence that followed. Eventually, his visor lowered, his focus moving to his gloved hand as it closed the distance to your own. Only part of his hand covered yours on the boarding ramp as he spoke in the most beautifully honest tone you had ever heard from him. "If I could be a different person, I promise you, I would be."

You shook your head, your gaze also fixed on your hands as you did so. "If you were any different, you wouldn't be the person I've grown such feelings for."

You were delicate in the way you laced your fingers through his, allowing him to pull away at any point if he so wished. He made no such move, instead letting his armored chest rise and fall in a careful breath as your hands became fully entwined. After a few more quiet moments, he spoke up once again. "I can learn."

You looked back up at his visor and hoped your expression wasn't betraying your strong glimmer of hope. Din offered a determined nod.

"I will learn."

Your smile couldn't be stopped as you looked upon him much more favorably than you ever had the stars. "Yeah?"

Din nodded once more, resting your entwined hands on his armored thigh. "Yeah."

#get you a man who wants to learn how to accept love on your behalf!!!!!!! (and give it ofc)#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #prompts #dindjarindiaries

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little-fairy-forest · 10 months ago

Text

Stitches of love

-> bakugo x fem! Reader

-> domestic, fluff, romance, she / her

-> reader finds herself going crazy over what to get her mitsuki for motherday, little does she know she had a helping hand all along.

"Katsuki please just give me some ideas what to get her" y/n pleaded as she rests her head in her hands. The list infront of her started back as she scratches out all her ideas so far on what to get her mother in law for her birthday. Jewellery? No she had so much, a holiday? Seems like a large present for your first year as her official daughter in law, home made jam?–

"She'd love anythin' if you gave it to 'er" Katsuki grumbles as he sips his coffee staring at y/n. They both knew he was right, y/n could give mitsuki a lump of dirt and She'd be so greatful you'd swear it was a lump of gold. But if katsuki gave it to her? He'd never hear the end of how thoughtless it was...

"What are you getting her? Surely you've ran out of ideas aswell?" Y/n rubs her face in defeat as she realises she only has 3 days to find a present. The clock is ticking, especially since you have to buy it, wrap it, and pray its good enough.

"Got her and the old man tickets to that candle lit concert in Tokyo, gotta meal for them aswell before the show" katsuki says as it's the most obvious thing ever... because everyone can afford to get expensive tickets to a private showing of the Tokyo orchestra at candlelight. Y/n huffs as she moves herself away from the table, frustrated as her plans were coming to a dead-end. Katsuki shrugs as suggests they can share the present as that wouldn't be a problem, but for y/n , she wanted her own present for her own mother in law.

"Back to the drawing board"

2 days to go

The dim lights of the lamp cascade over y/n as she tries to pull out another knott that's found its way into the ball of yarn.

"Stupid thing, why are the strings so thin–"

"Why are you still awake?" Katsuki emerges from the kitchen, peeping his head into the living room to find his wife tangled in balls of yarn, frustrated at the pattern in front of her. Who know making a blanket was so difficult?

"I can't figure the pattern out, why is knitting so hard katsu! Why do people do this to relax"

"Cuz old hags have all the time in the world to do that stuff, now get your ass to bed"

The small half-arsed square that was meant to be a blanket falls flat into y/ns lap as she realises this was another failed attempt at a present for mitsuki. The blanket would've had to of been perfect, can't give a seamstress a rag and pass it off as a blanket made out of love. What symbol would that give?

"Stupid yarn"

1 day to go

The perfect way to a person's heart is through their stomach, is that how the saying goes? Doesn't matter! Either way you found yourself 3 cakes deep into perfecting this stupid old recipe. katuki claims " the old hags loves "... but why is it so hard to master the recipe?

Many hours into baking whatever is in the oven, because there's no way you can even call the lumpy mess a 'cake'. Katsuki takes over as he cannot let anything to be made in his kitchen be considered inedible. You watched as katsuki whipped around the kitchen, making dinner and cleaning up the mess you made. What are you going to do now? The deadline is near, and you've nothing to bring to the dinner tomorrow for mitsuki?

Great way to impress your mother in law

"Listen, she won't care if you've nothin in your hands sweets, trust" Katsuki says to distract you from your storming thoughts.

"I just don't know what to do babe, I've tried so many ideas. I don't have to give up but what choice do I have–"

"Quit your ramblin and go wash up before dinner," katsuki cuts your rambles with instructions. He knows it's best to distract you if you're having working thoughts.

You make your way to the bathroom to wash up before dinner. Your head is still flooded with last minute ideas of presents to give mistuki.

"Where's all the soap gone? Why doesn't katsuki refill the container when it's empty? Typical" you say, reaching into the press to grab and refill the soap dispenser. You make a quick note of things you need to get in the shops before you go to dinner tomorrow as you're almost out of some essentials.

As you rummage through the bathroom cabinet, your fingers brush against a small, inconspicuous box tucked behind some toiletries. Curiosity piqued, you retrieved it, your heart quickening as you read the label. With a mixture of trepidation and hope, you take a gamble with this last chance of a home made present.

Birthday dinner

Mistuki has been filling yous in on her latest fashion looks she has been in the process of designing since last spring. Masaru has just set down the tea post dinner as you've all settled into the sitting room to unwind after that very tasty dinner katsuki scrubbed up. Who knew your man was so kind?

"Here's your present ma..." katsuki sheeply hands over his gift knowing his mother will make a deal out of the concert he has gotten her tickets for. You watch as mistuki stumbles over with glee as she hugs? Katsuki and thanks him. You haven't seem them hug since you had gotten married!

Masaru thanks katsuki for getting him a ticket also, placing the present aside waiting for the two blonds to settle down.

" it's something small, hope we can all share this special present" you hint towards the box you hand over to mitsuki. Katsuki looks at you knowingly you done fucked up the blanket and the cake, so what did you get her?

Mistuki opens the box to find a tiny baby blanket you had hand knitted from the rags you started with, paired with a tiny test signaling your little life growing within.

Mistuki stumbles over the test, clarifying with you that what she is reading really is coming true!

"YOUR PREGNANT?!" She gleams as she jumps from her seat shuffling over to hug you. Katsuki looks at you with hope in his eyes, why hadn't you told him?!

"Yes , I hope this trumps katsuki present mistuki" you hug Mistuki back as masaru looks into the box reading the little note beside the blanket

"Cant wait to snuggle you in this blanket made out of love, sweat and tears,

Love, baby bakugo due 2X25"

Yep. You've finally outdone your husband in gift giving.

Now how will you out do Masarus birthday..

What did I just write...

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sassypantsjaxon · 8 months ago

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Okay, quick disclaimers: 1. I know some people don't like Horikoshi's worldbuilding, would say there's a lack of depth, etc, etc. I'm not one of those people, I just see it as my chance to overanalyze and fill in the gaps myself for these kind of headcanon/theory/whatever you want to call this post. 2. This post will briefly touch on my own personal headcanons of Mic being an orphan and Aizawa being a rich kid.

Okay! all that being said, I'm just going to throw some things at the wall about my own thoughts/headcanons about the world Mic and Aizawa grew up in, and you guys can let me know if anything sticks.

You ever think about how All Might is around 25 years older than Mic and Aizawa?

Given that he left Japan as a teenager and went to college in America, he probably came back and started becoming the Symbol of Peace in Japan in his early-mid twenties.

Mic and Aizawa would have been part of the first generation of kids who have never known a world without All Might

Like. Think about that. They would have grown up in a world that is just beginning to recover from the horrors (as compared to the relatively deceptively safe society we see at the beginning of the series)

Hizashi grows up in an orphanage with a lot of older kids who were orphaned by villain attacks and...not so many kids younger than him. Which is good for them, but kind of lonely for a kid like Zashi

There's a wall around the orphanage that is supposed to be for protecting them, but as villain activity decreases, it just starts to feel like it's keeping the kids in

Hizashi becomes a hero because he knows nobody else is going to save him

Shouta grows up in a high security gated community

He's always wanted to be a hero, and he's always been told it's pointless, because All Might will have eradicated villainy by the time Shouta's an adult this is of course a lie

part of the tragedy of Oboro's death is that they've heard their whole lives how large scale villain attacks like that are a thing of the past

They would have had drills for what to do in case of villain attacks when they were little kids starting school. These would have slowly been phased out by the time they were in middle school

Another thing that's changed since they were kids is the architecture

No more burned down, bombed out buildings that just sit around because there's no point rebuilding something that will just be destroyed again in a few weeks. No more business that are still open, but the windows are boarded up because they can't afford to keep replacing the glass

No more graffitied walls and fences and gates. No more anti-villain spikes on top of buildings and around cities

And all of these things disappeared so slowly that it's like one day when they're in highschool, they just look around and realize they don't exist anymore and wonder where it all went and when it happened

There was probably a population boom as All Might started to cement his place as the Symbol of Peace. People realizing their kids would have a safer world to grow up in and they didn't have to fear dying every other minute

People moving out of the safety of the cities back into more rural areas

actually hang on. that would kind of explain the racism and bigotry we know exists in the rural regions

this was supposed to be more about mic and aizawa and now i'm just spitballing worldbuilding sorry.

Mic and Aizawa are kind of in this weird inbetween of the fourth generation of quirk users, who grew up fully in the horrors of quirk wars, and the fifth generation, who grew up in the era of All Might and it's all just the past to them

Because even though they didn't exactly live it themselves, they did still see the direct effects of it

And that's the horror of this new war, because their students had been living the peace Mic and Aizawa were promised as children

#this is the thing i promised a few days ago because i just wonder about it y'know?#bnha #my hero academia #eraserhead #present mic #all might #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #yagi toshinori #i don't know. let me know your thoughts on the world of bnha i guess?

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yinastra · 9 months ago

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✩ The Waves Overhead ✩

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

Freminet x gn!reader

Summary: Freminet has had an imaginary friend since he was little.

A/N: Can be romantic or platonic.

CWs: Heavy angst

TW: Suicide, death, self harm, eating disorder, starvation, PTSD, delusions, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

Freminet has always been a quiet boy. Met with conversation, he retreats back into his shell, locking his heart away.

He'd like to open up to people, to trust them, but how could he?

Instead, he enjoys sitting by Fontaine's 'sea' in their company.

They conversate for hours on end, the only divider being the setting sun and the dawn's light.

Even then, they are with him everywhere he goes.

In his dreams, in his heart, in his memories:

he wouldn't have it any other way, of course.

This person understands him so well- it could even be considered uncanny.

Nothing seemed real without them by his side.

Real?

They were real.

He'd take walks with them by the shoreline.

How strange was it that nothing was clear anymore?

When did all the shade blend together?

All the colors mushed into each other.

This was real.

This was reality.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

Freminet has always had an imaginary friend.

Ever since he was little, there's always been someone by his side.

Someone he felt he could speak to freely, someone he depended on.

Someone who got him through the days.

Starving to the bone.

The days where his mother couldn't afford to buy them food, so she instead tucked him in extra tightly into the small, handmade quilt, telling him that the next day would have something to fill his empty stomach.

The days he'd cry in bed because his mother didn't come home that day. He was always so afraid for her, what if she never came back? What if the debt collectors─

There they were.

His light, his beacon of hope.

The person he'd talk to about all his problems, he'd even forget his hunger when he spoke to them.

The person who'd reassure him through everything. It wasn't all in his imagination, he swore!

They listened. They replied. They helped.

Freminet has always had an imaginary friend.

Everyone always thought it was delusion. It wasn't. He knew. How could he ever speak to another person?

Person.

They were a person.

He knew them.

They knew him.

He swore it.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The hunger ate away at him, even now.

He could eat whenever he wanted now, but he couldn't.

He couldn't bring himself to fill his stomach─ it made him feel sick.

The days where he couldn't eat anything, they had lasted for so long.

So, so long.

Food no longer looked appetizing. He could barely deign to put it into his mouth, the texture making him want to puke it all up.

He used to be so excited to eat food– to be able to eat food consecutively, days in a row. It used to be an occasion worthy of celebration. But now? Now he can't..

He can't stomach food. He can't eat it continuously.

He'll throw up any food he eats on the second day in a two day cycle.

That's how it became after–

What he saw?

No, no.

What he didn't see.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The waves swallowed him up.

Falling into the serene "sea", he found himself lost in his mind. His thoughts echoed off of the sides of his helmet.

The dark.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

That bright, bright day. He had just fixed an old broken clock they had. His mother sold it, and they ate that day! Two days in a row, a true gem.

He walked to the house by the shore. The small shack looked desolate, the windows boarded.

His imaginary friend's home.

His imaginary friend.

He opens the door.

The small, tattered couch was in the corner, the small coffee table and lamp accompanying the atmosphere.

Dark.

Had they gotten some new type of decor? How interesting, he thought.

How interesting, that their friend's hair hung onto the motionless dummy's scalp.

How interesting, that their favorite shirt clung onto the dummy's body just like he remembered.

How interesting, that it had their eyes─ dull, of course.

Laughable. Hysterical. That wasn't his friend.

His friend's eyes were bright. As bright as the ocean underneath the sunlight, as the light reflected.

His light.

His hope.

This "decor" was much too cool to the touch.

Cold.

This was not them, it couldn't be.

It wasn't, he said.

It wasn't.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The water's motions return him back from his memories.

The coolness of his surroundings chills him.

He makes his way back to the surface.

There was the house on the shore.

He swore it was a person. He swore they were real.

He drags his heavy feet to the entrance, turning the door knob.

The couch was there. It was real.

It was...

He sits down on it, a wave of familiarity rushing over him.

The coolness of the seat, the hard back.

The seat had to have been covered with dust with how grainy it felt. Even like..

dirt.

He lightly traced the carvings on the stone-hard, gray back.

Their name and a date engraved on the stone.

There was a tree outside of the window, he remembered it well.

He looks up, tracing the stars.

The stars looked different.

Blobs of faint light, burning out constantly.

Running his hand along the branch above that couch.

He'd sat by that couch for hours before.

That..

couch?

That was right.

That couch.

The distorted grey shape behind him.. the one he leaned on.

It was the couch.

Really.

It was.

The coarse rope beneath his fingertips give him a feeling of Déjà vu.

He'd just hang here for a while.. right?

Yeah. That's right. He'll stay here to watch the sea.

Next to them.

Where they'll meet again.

Under the waves overhead.

#freminet #freminet x reader #genshin impact #genshin angst #yinastra #freminet x you #freminet x gn! reader #gn reader #freminet angst

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wizardpink · 2 months ago

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You know what is on my mind? I made the mistake of joining Threads a while back, and I basically just open it every couple days, get blasted by the most rage-baity stuff you can imagine, then close it, but,

I used it enough to get a feel for the fact that it is Blue MAGA central. Like when Biden stepped down, people on there were posting that they were WEEPING, how DARE we horrible evil leftists have spread the vicious lie that Biden was too old to competently hold office,

And it was SO BAD that just about any time someone mentioned high groceries prices, or outrageous rent costs, without even blaming Democrats or asking if there was anything the President or Congress could do to help,

Blue cultists would appear to tell the person they were wrong, or lying, or exaggerating, because the Dow and the Nasdaq were blah blah, or unemployment rate was blah blah, or how dare you complain that you struggle to make ends meet, don't you know that makes King Biden look bad? Clearly you must want Trump to win if you are out here daring to say anything other than glowing praise for our Democrat overlords.

And like, it pisses me off that your average politically-disconnected, privileged American votes based on the price of gas rather than what candidate wants to put people in camps and strip your rights away. But the myopic, heartless response of "you're worried about inflation? 🙄 Okay Karen, let's all just stop everything because you can't afford to feed your kids. 😒 Oh your rent is nearly half your income every month? Let me play you the world's smallest violin..." was really, really, REALLY not helpful to getting people on board to vote for Harris. Like at best these people were ignored and at worst they were mocked and called liars and psyops. And unlike most leftists, whom these moderates outnumbered probably 10 to 1, they didn't hold their noses and vote for her anyway. They voted for Trump or stayed home.

We talk so much about how Democrats would rather lick centrist and Republican voter boots than court leftists but this year it was like they weren't even courting the centrists. It was "get in line or go fuck yourself." And look how that turned out.

#and you know what. moderates really can go get fucked.#but if you're gonna play ball fucking play ball.

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elisedonut · 6 months ago

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I've been so freaking obsessed with Evan Rosier/Percy Weasley time travel fic.

Starts out as a Voldemort wins AU and Percy time travels to the past, ends up about 16/17 and back in Hogwarts, sorted into Slytherin, he doesn't know shit about Voldemort or how to prevent the war, so he does the only logical thing he can. Becomes a better alternative to Voldemort. Yup, straight up Percy Weasley cult, yes I'm doing that :P

It takes a while, but most of the other students are more or less on board, except Evan Rosier. He's hanging around because his friends are all enamoured, but he's suspicious, he doesn't trust Percy. Percy thinks he's hot c: Evans emotionally constipated self thinks Percy is hot too :p but very sus and he doesn't trust easy

So basically Percy has to change the future by forcing the Hogwarts population into therapy, becoming a sort of accidental cult leader, joining the pta and uniting with parents in ways that change actually happens even if they don't like some things he says, changing some of the dumb things the teachers do, changing the gryffindor bias, promoting interhouse unity and all that fun stuff :D

Yk like litte things that change everything

His and Evans dynamic is kinda like

Evan: *shaking the front of Percy's robes* I don't know who the fuck you are, or what you're playing at but I'm going easy on you because my friends like you. But you so much as stub their toe, you are dead, do you hear me?

Percy: That's nice, mind the robes will you? They're new. Unlike some people I can't afford buying new ones for every idiot who randomly decides to assault me.

Evan: You kissed Mulciber?

Percy: What of it

Evan: No- I just- Mulciber? He's probably got some- I don't know, infectious disease!

Percy: If I didn't know better I'd think you wanted to kiss me.

Evan: *spluttering*

Evan: Why were you hanging around with Snape

Percy: *flipping page of his book* We were discussing the importance of media literacy in charged political climates

Evan: *darkly* Of course you were.

Percy: Is there a problem?

Barty: *popping up out of nowhere with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle at Evan* Yeah, why are you bothering him Evan, it's like your obsessed :)

Evan: I am not obsessed! I just- I- I just think maybe his lordship shouldn't leave everyone out of interesting discussions!

Barty: Seriously.

Percy: Actually, that's a good point Rosier. Thank you for pointing that out. How about tomorrow we properly launch debate club! I'll go ask professor Slughorn, Rosier will you assist me?

Evan: *dying inside* Whatever. I don't have anything else that I'm doing so like- yeah

Evan doesn't know why the fuck Percy is crying but he gets it. He gets what it's like and he doesn't trust him, can't trust him, can't make that shrivelled little thing inside him reach out and accept someone new, but he can understand. And he holds him. And Percy cries into his jumper until he's asleep and then Evan tells himself he should go, he shouldn't be here, it feels so wrong to see this boy so vulnerable and trusting but he stays and in the morning they don't talk about it. In the morning Avery fawns a little as he pours milk in Percy's cereal and he sneers just the same as usual, a hufflepuff asks for Percy's thoughts on rock music and he scoffs and rolls his eyes the same as usual but he finds himself checking if Percy actually eats the food they give him, seeing the dark circles under the redheads eyes, seeing the smudged and filled up schedule he keeps worrying over

ASDFGHJKL I CAN'T GET OVER THEM PLS

oh sounds neat

ngl I don't really know anything about Evan because I'm not a Marauder girlie like at all

Death Eaters are honestly my least favorite people to pair with Percy personally and there's not many that I do actively like

so i don't tend to pay them much attention unless i find them interesting for some other reason

because as anyone who's been here long enough can probably tell i have a hard time caring about characters unless i can tie them back to Percy in some way or another

but regardless yeah Percy and Time travel are two of my favorite fic genres so i could see the appeal

Percy trying to start a cult himself is very funny though

like at this point he just doesn't know what else to try so he's just kind of like fuck it i guess ill try this

it is neat because Evan's the only one seemingly suspicious and in a way his suspicions are right like Percy is 100% up to something its just that the something isn't actually a bad thing really

Also your writing him so jealous thats always fun

#percy weasley #evan rosier #evan rosier/percy weasley #might not really be for me #but i do love hearing about what other people ship and why #for Percy thats double true #it's always very fun to see how everyone's brains work so differently and what gives different people brainrot #like go off I'm so proud of you #i wish i had more to say dhfadhf #Elise's Thoughts and Concepts

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droughtofapathy · 6 months ago

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For those of you in New York, don't think that just because we are a blue state it means you don't have to vote or that your vote does not matter. Maybe it will be a forgone conclusion that our electoral college votes go to the Democratic candidate, but voting is not, and never is, just about the presidential election. We are voting on all levels this and every year, and it is vital that you make informed and educated picks. Your local elections are majorly important. If you really want to enact systemic change, this is the most realistic and doable way to achieve that. It starts with small community-based change. Young people statistically has poorer voter turnout as compared to older demographics, and that is why your local councils and small-town mayors and hell even your school boards are able to run business as usual without the interests YOU want in mind. Because you let them.

The first ballot I ever cast when I turned 18 was not in a presidential election. It was to vote on my local school district's budget. It was in the school's gymnasium and despite it being open after school as kids left for the bus or practice or whatever, I was the only student there. This was a budget that directly impacted us, the students, and the people voting were all far older. I have voted in dozens of small elections and ballots where the margins can be as little as two votes.

It matters.

In New York, it is so damn easy to register to vote and to cast your ballot. I do not want to hear your excuse about how you can't register and vote because you don't drive, or you're disabled and can't stand in line day-of, or whatever your "well actually" comment is. If you are eligible to vote in this state, you can and must vote.

You can register online here

What do you need to register? Three things:

NYS driver license, permit, or non-driver ID card

ZIP Code currently on record with the DMV

Social security number

As a member of society, you have those things. If you work, you must have those things. If you want to rent an apartment, you must have those things. If you do anything at all, you have those things. If you don't have those things, then you are a very hyper-specific case and honestly, what are you doing on tumblr dot com when it seems like you might have bigger issues at hand?

But what about the actual voting?

Guess what? New York has some of the easiest voter methods in the damn country. Since 2020, requesting a mail-in ballot is easier than getting a sandwich at the deli.

Apply for a Mail-In Ballot Here

Any voter. You do not need to have a reason. You can just fill out the form. It takes five minutes. The ballot arrives at your residence, you fill it out, you mail it back. That's it. No waiting on lines if you aren't able-bodied, no risking contact with anyone else if you're immunocompromised, no taking time off work if you can't afford to.

For those of you not in New York, check your state guidelines here. In Ohio, for example, it's as easy as New York. You can vote by absentee ballot as long as your voter registration information is current. And as one of the most notorious swing states, it is crucial to vote blue in Ohio. Texas, on the other hand, doesn't actually seem to want to encourage voting, and you must meet certain criteria. But those who are disabled can and should request a mail-in ballot.

You can vote. Do it.

#us elections #politics #voter registration #new york #new york state

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hughiecampbelle · 2 years ago

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Your Relationship As Logans Youngest Would Include:

Requested: What would Logan’s relationship with his youngest child? - anon

A/N: I'm not 100% sure if this was a request or just a question, but I like it too much not to turn into a headcanon :) I'm basing it off these headcanons and this fic series because I love this Baby Roy! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Logan never wanted you from the beginning

He makes that abundantly clear with your mother, but she had no children, by him or anyone else, and thought this would be the way to trap him. It'll at least get her the money she wants when they inevitably divorce

Neither of your parents understand what it is to raise a child. Your mother was never warm and fuzzy with your siblings, let alone you. She hates the fact that she has to give up alcohol and sushi for you and definitely reminds you of all her sacrifices. Your father wants nothing to do with you. Period

He has three boys to choose from, more than enough for a single successor, and a daughter to carry on the family name. To Logan you're more like spare parts

He's older now, he has less time for children, less time for you. Less energy, too. He doesn't have time for you. He didn't have time for your siblings, but now he was even more busy. At least they're grown up, at least he doesn't have to parent them anymore. You're a baby, you supposedly need him. But his work is more important

After you're born he spends as little time with you as possible, leaving your mother and siblings to raise you. He can't remember, but he swears you cry more than the others. You cry all the time. It prevents him from working. It prevents him from inviting people over. You are deemed the reason he can't get anything done

It's up to your siblings mostly to raise you. Connor takes over as father figure and the rest do their best to protect you. When you're fussy or cranky or just not in a good mood they know better than to let you near Logan in that state. Things always end badly when you're around him

When he can't help but be around you, he remains distant. When you're old enough to walk and talk and go to school, he might ask about it. Probably not, though. He can't be bothered to care

You remind Logan of his own mortality. You're so much younger than he is, so much younger than your siblings. He sees you and realizes he doesn't have the energy anymore. He doesn't have the drive anymore. He's still got his bite of course, but he's getting older. He's not as scary as he used to be, at least he feels this way and it's why he's even more cruel than usual

Logan only hears word of your tantrums. You have a nasty temper that makes the help quit weekly. He doesn't have time for that. He'd just divorced your mother and became the parent with the most custody. He isn't going to hit you like Roman, he has this feeling you'd only get worse. You're already covered in bruises and scratches, he can't afford anymore questions

He sent you to your room for days at a time, he took away meals and toys and time with your siblings. Some days he even took you away from school, deciding that time with your teachers and friends was too good for you. You'd be so quiet, so still, he sometimes forgot you were there. When you begged for food and water he'd send a plate to your door, not wanting to see you at the table. Not wanting to see you at all

One day after a particularly bad week, after you threw yet another tantrum in front of his investors, he calls you into his study. You know you're not allowed in here. He has so many things he wants to say that he can't. He wants to yell and scream and order you to stop acting this way. It's childish, it's reckless, and if you don't straighten up, he'll ship you off to boarding school. Instead, what comes out is vague and simple: Quiet down.

Quiet down the tantrums, the emotions, the crying and yelling, the head banging, the scratching, the throwing, the disaster, quiet down everything until you are nothing. Until you are nothing

It is a non-threatening threat

Your siblings try to help, try to get in-between the anger and your father, but he knows. He sees everything that goes on inside his home. Your behavior is unacceptable and he will not stand it

When you started drinking, he took notice. You were, what? Ten, eleven, twelve. He'd had his first drink by your age. The fact that you had simmered down meant that it was working

He would do nothing to stop you, nothing to intervene. When you went to your mothers, when you weren't drinking, he was the one who heard all about how misbehaved you were. When you came home and self-sedated, he figured it was a win. He finally had you behaving. Ever since you were born he'd felt this anger, this disgust towards you. Now that you were limp and quiet and subdued, you were a pleasure to have

The pills were the next step, stealing from the bathroom cabinet, coke from Kendall's pockets, other drugs from school. He knew what was going on, but again didn't care. He felt like he'd been holding his breath your whole life and could now finally breathe

He didn't care what you did or how much you did it, it was your life he was fucking up, not his. Why should he care?

You wouldn't overdose til a few months later. He pays the hospital bills, never bringing it up. You collapse a few times at home, the help finding you, saving you, but he never brings it up. You come home and shut yourself in your room, out late every night

He's not an idiot. He knows exactly what you're doing, what you're trying to get rid of: the anger. He'd let you kill yourself over it. He has an heir, he has successors that aren't you. You're finally letting him do his job, letting him work. That's all he wanted your entire life

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"To do what?"

He knows. He's always known. And sometimes it feels like he's rubbing it in your face that he knows and doesn't care. It hurts and drives you to do more drugs and drink more alcohol. If he doesn't care about you, why should you?

He doesn't keep track of you. You're at clubs, bars, underground, all over the city. If you're not home by the time he goes to bed you are not his problem. Simple

When you call him that night, sobbing, asking for help, for safety, for him to pick you up after days of not being home, he nearly hangs up. You are weak. You always have been. Instead he calls Connor, knowing he's in the city, ordering him to find you. When the call ends he goes back to sleep without worry. This is your mess, your fault. He won't let you get in the way of another big day tomorrow

Years you spent ruining your life, your body, a decade you spent in those bars, in those clubs, drinking yourself to sleep every night because you were weak and couldn't deal with life

He doesn't see you for months after that. You go to rehab a few times. You stay with your siblings and then you get your own place. Neither of you talk about that night, that call. He is neither kind to you nor hateful. You simply exist. You are a letdown. You always have been. He was foolish to think you'd be any other way

Logan dies not liking you. You're clean now, have been for a year after multiple months of rehab and multiple months of falling off the wagon. But that doesn't mean a thing to him. You poisoned yourself for years. You poisoned your family. You couldn't deal with life and that made you weak. No matter how sober you stay or for how long, you did those things to yourself. No one else did. Logan didn't want you from the beginning, but your life just proves you are not a Roy, you never will be. You're, at best, spare parts

#requested #headcanon #logan roy #logan roy imagine #logan roy headcanon #logan roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession headcanon #succession x reader

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alarrytale · 7 months ago

Note

If I feel like being a little moody and I wanna sit on the mic stand and stand here the whole time, you guys’ll have it. You guys are on board. When I was younger and you look for people to aspire to, people kind of gallivant across the stage doing all sorts of mad shit, and that’s not me.

- Louis to Mexico City audience

Why did he say that? Sounds like he's shading Harry who is a much more energetic performer.

Hi, anon!

No, that's not what he's saying. He's saying the same thing he's said the last couple of shows. That he's grateful that we as a fandom doesn’t expect things of him that he can't deliver on. He can be himself and not go out of his comfort zone, he can be moody or hungover, or he can half ass his performance and still pull great crowds. He believes his fans are onboard with that.

What he's saying is that he's grateful that he doesn’t have to galivant on stage in order to pull that kind of crowd. The issue is that if he were to galivant on stage he'd pull crowds double the size of what he's pulling now. For an artist who doesn’t entertain, show variety or can boast of a good vocal performance, he's overperforming. He can't believe he's come this far without any of these qualities and without having to do extra effort to make up for it.

He's happy his fans are there for him even when he's nervous and shaky, doesn’t know the lyrics and have to peek at the lyric sheets, when he just stands at the mic and doesn’t move on stage or when he's moody or hungover and isn't feeling it. The crowd will give him a boost. It's like he forgets that he's the performer. He isn't on stage to get a confidence boost from the audience and sing a song or two as a thank you. Like we've talked about before it sounds like he's getting complacent, like he doesn’t have to make any effort at all because fans will show up regardless. I don't like this attitude of his.

As an artist (or a person) i believe everyone should strive to be a bit better, be a bit kinder, try a bit harder and get out of the comfort zone. If you get too complacent, too comfortable and satisfied, and make everything routine, you won't develop, grow and get better. It's a bit concerning that we still see a nervous, hand-wringing artist who's pointing out that he's moody, hungover, out of breath or croaky. I need him to try to overcome the lack of confidence, to try to learn the lyrics, to try to dare move on stage. I need him to show me he's trying to be better. If he's not trying and is happy with being average then we won't be so forgiving. We won't be onboard with that. He simply can't afford not to keep trying.

#solo louis #louis image #this got long #but everytime he says things like this i kind of want to shake some sense into him

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fearfulachilles · 1 year ago

Text

9. wunderkind.

chapter nine to buop (nanami kento x reader jjk medical au.) .

full contents here.

summary: working with dr. geto proves to be more difficult than you thought, but you have an enjoyable lunch break.

tw: american healthcare.

Satoru Gojo was a wunderkind. He graduated high school early, finished pre-med in half as much of time than normal, and aced his way through med school at an incredibly young age. He was a medicine prodigy. He was sought out by many hospitals for his neurosurgery fellowship, but decided to accept a fellowship at Jujutsu Metropolitan Hospital.

During his fellowship, he created and developed a new technique that is still used by nearly all neurosurgeons across the country, even years later. Up until a year ago, it had been known as the Gojo technique.

During and after Satoru's fellowship, he quickly noticed that he hated how the hospital was managing things. The owners of the hospital were old men who didn't work with patients anymore, instead they worked closely with insurance companies to milk money out of patients looking for care.

Satoru had to constantly turn away sick patients in need of surgery, and even the ones who needed simpler treatments such as medication and routine examinations, all because the patients couldn't afford to pay for it, and pro-bono services were forbidden. Patients waited months for post-operative visits and some had to hold off on returning after surgery completely, all due to money. He saw how the staff around him, nurses and scrub techs, were always shorthanded and overworked because the higher ups refused to hire more people, just to save themselves money.

Eventually, it all came crumbling down on the members of the hospital board. Patients were seeking care elsewhere, strung out employees were quitting, and the Jujutsu Hospital reputation was going to shit. Money doesn't last forever, but they were in need of it. That's when an anonymous buyer came in with a generous offer, in exchange for the board to be changed immediately, of course.

It didn't take long for senior hospital board member, Dr. Yoshinobu Gakuganji, to trace the money back to the one and only, medicine prodigy, Satoru Gojo. He wished he never did find out where the buy-out offer came from, because he had no choice but to take the offer. So, now he stood in an office room located in one of the higher floors of the hospital building with the young white haired physician.

“I'll accept the buy-out under one exception,” Gakuganji started, wrinkling fingers tapping against one another.

Satoru only scoffed, his arms crossed on his chest. His voice is smug, laced with his usual know-it-all attitude, “you have no room to bargain, you're out of options. No one wants you bail you out of your shitty hospital but me.”

“For this, it's worth the risk. No surgery for four years.”

How evil. Brain surgery was Satoru's passion. He worked hard, studied long nights, developed his own technique for his surgeries. His eyes widened and he bared his teeth, slamming his hand down on the old man's desk.

“Fuck no, you can't do that!” Satoru had always been out of line as a subordinate, but he was well aware that his brain and talent were too prestigious to reprimand or hold accountable so he got away with a lot, much to Gakuganji's disliking. It explained why Gakuganji was always looking for reasons to get rid of him.

“I can have the hospital’s lawyer on retainer add it into the contract. You want to turn this hospital around? Time to make some sacrifices, Gojo.”

Satoru grunts, chewing on the inside of his cheek, his fingertips digging into the palm of his hand in a shaking fist. Gakuganji can't be serious.

“One more thing...”

“You’ve asked for enough.” Satoru rolls his eyes.

“The Gojo technique, it's brilliant. Forfeit your name to it.”

Gakuganji was going for the jugular. The Gojo technique was pretty much flawless and it had never failed to save a life in surgery. It was Satoru's creation, his baby. He had traveled the country to teach this technique to other neurosurgeons, articles were published about it, it was his.

“To what, your name? The Gakuganji technique is a mouth full and an eye sore.” Satoru spat. Though surgery was his life, he was willing to step down for a short amount of time, if it was for his vision of this hospital he had, then four years wasn't too long.

“Preferably, but as long as it's out of your name, I'll be satisfied. Make a public announcement about forfeiting the ownership of your technique, and we can move forward this deal.” Gakuganji said, stroking his thin-haired beard, it always creeped Satoru out.

Satoru glared daggers at the old man. He was wrinkly, fragilely thin, shaking like a leaf in the cold air conditioning of the the office. He could croak at any time and Satoru wished it'd happen now more than ever.

“You're acting like a man with nothing to lose.” Satoru’s eyes sized up the shrinking old man.

“I don't anymore.”

The deal closed the day after Satoru made a public announcement, giving titleship and credit to Dr. Geto for his the technique.

He walked into work like nothing had happened, as if he hadn't just become the owner of Jujutsu Hospital, as if he hadn't just agreed to sacrifice the next four years. He struck a deal with Dr. Geto to take over his surgical cases from now because he'll be “too busy with paperwork” for a while.

He hires back the old chief of surgery, Dr. Masamichi Yaga, who had been forced to retire by the old hospital board members, despite them hitting critical ages themselves. He confides in his old mentor that he has no clue what he's doing with this hospital he had just bought, but he may know where to start.

“I'm sick and tired of insurances denying everything. I'm the doctor, I know what my patients needs, not them.” Satoru complains, resting his cheek on his palm.

“It is a pain dealing with them.” Dr. Yaga agreed.

They sat in Satoru's new office, a place he was told to get used to; he'll be spending most of his time in there, rather than the operating room.

The young physician had a vision for the future of medicine: no red tape from insurance companies, no gouged up prices for medicine that patients need, fair wages and generous personal time off for employees.

Satoru sighed, blowing the air out of pursed lips. His eyes fall on to a pile of rejected proposals by the last hospital head. He finds an old one he had proposed—the free clinic. He had brought this idea up during his fellowship, the idea of offering free medical care for post-op patients, and once established, expand to offer free care for all patients.

His long fingers flip through his old proposal, a smile creeping on his lips as he comes to realization that he can approve this with a simple sign of his signature.

“I've got four years of free time, anyways.” Satoru tells himself.

More than half the employees who quit due to an unfair working environment had been rehired the first month of Satoru taking over, and new employees were hired to share the workload. He opened the hospital for med school students to come there for their clinical rotations and for residents to come work for their residency, and he found room in the budget for medical scribes to be hired.

_________

Your first day working with Dr. Geto couldn't have gone worse.

Dr. Geto requested to start work in the clinic two hours earlier than when it usually opens, so you have to show up two hours earlier than normal.

You wake up with exactly 10 minutes left before you have to leave. You rush through brushing your hair and tying it back, brushing your teeth, and you change into a pair of scrubs. Then you spill your homemade coffee on yourself by accident. Changing again makes you five minutes late to the clinic, and your gas tank is nearly on empty, so you'll have to pump more after work.

Dr. Geto is already standing and waiting at the nurse station when you walk in. You run to grab a scribing laptop from the supply closet at the back of the clinic, frantically opening it and logging into the electronic health system the clinic and hospital use.

You finally catch your breath as you wait near Dr. Geto for the first patient to be ready for him. You lose your breath again when Dr. Geto addresses you directly.

“Satoru told me you're interested in neurosurgery.” His voice is silk smooth, almost hypnotizing. He's prettier than the images you saw of him when you Googled the surgeon. His hair is so dark and shiny, it's long enough to go down his back, and he has half of it tied up. He takes care of it, you can tell.

You can't seem to find your voice, so you just nod. You're not necessarily interested in neurosurgery solely, but you're really open to it. You're not going to tell that to Dr. Geto, a neurosurgeon, though.

Dr. Geto works differently than Satoru or Kento. He likes to move quickly, even wasting less time than Kento does. He moves so swiftly, almost like he's gliding across the floor. You're barely able to keep up with his pace, once he's done with one patient, he moves on to the next room. He doesn't look back, he doesn't ask if you have any questions, he doesn't check your notes, you have no idea how he prefers them. You try stopping him, but it does no good.

“Dr. Geto, if I can just ask—” Your words don't reach him, he's already stepped into the next available exam room and began exanimating his patient.

You take your lunch break earlier than everyone else, since Dr. Geto had you start work earlier today.

“Goddamn it,” you curse to yourself as you realize you've gotten lost on the way to the hospital cafeteria again. You don't think you'll ever learn where it is. The hallways are so identical, other than different variations of some CPR posters pinned up in certain hallways.

“Need help?” You hear in a very familiar deep tone.

You turn your head to the direction of the voice and see Kento walking towards you. He looks handsome in the scrub cap he's wearing. He still lacks the white doctor coat so his muscular forearms are out for all to see, like usual. You can't help but stare at them, tracing each vein you see with your eyes. You remember how he held you with those arms as he fucked you four times.

Your gurgling stomach brings your focus back to him. “Uh, yeah, I always get lost on my way to the cafeteria.”

Kento chuckles, he thinks that's cute. “I was just heading there myself. I can show you.”

He really tries to continue a conversation with you, but it's awkward at first. You feel nervous, like you want to throw up, but despite not feeling any bile come up, the fluttering sensation stays in your stomach.

Kento opens each door at the end of the hallways for you like it's natural instinct. You tried opening one for him, but he gently replaced your hand on the steel doorknob with his own. His hands are so much bigger than yours, he can almost engulf your hand in just his palm alone.

He asks you how your day is going, and you respond by automatically pouting and dropping your head down. He laughs briefly as he watches your sulking. He opens one of the double doors that finally belongs to the cafeteria entrance, placing his large hand on the small of your back and guiding you inside as you continue pouting with your head down.

You pick up your head, and whine. “It's going horrible! I can't keep up with Dr. Geto, he's impossible to stop once he's started, it's like he can't hear me, I have no idea how he likes his notes, it's like he expects to know how he wants it—”

Kento nods, he's aware of how... difficult Suguru can be to work with. He expects everyone to be on his level from the get-go; he wants his scrub techs to know what instruments he's going to ask for during surgery before he needs to ask for it, he likes his nurses to write their supervision notes in a particular format so he can learn the most information without needing to ask the patient more questions himself. He has high expectations from everyone he works with, with little remorse or thought to new employees around him.

“—I like working with you way more.” You say quietly, finishing your rant.

The corners of Kento's lips turn up slightly, a small smile appearing at your confession. He notes how your cheeks turn pink, so he decides to not respond to it. You're thankful, thinking he hadn't heard you.

The hospital cafeteria is almost nearly empty, a few family members of patients eat, but there weren't many staff members there, most likely because you're taking an earlier lunch than normal. You and Kento grab food and he pays for your portion without exchanging words and without a second thought. You want to hate how he does that because you can take care of yourself, but you can't.

“About my parking ticket—” you begin, both of you moving to an empty table in a private corner of the cafeteria. He carries his food, a chicken sandwich with wheat bread, in one hand and pulls out a chair for you with his other.

“Already paid.” Kento replies, quickly shutting you down on it. He's smiling, smugly if you squint hard enough to see.

“You didn't have to do that.” You insisted. You take a seat in the chair he's pulled out for you, and he sits beside you.

“I know.” His voice is kind, traced with unwavering certainty. How odd. You're not used to that: someone doing something like that for you because they wanted to. It sends a chill down your spine, ringing an alarm in your head. Kento causes it, but he also helps dull out the noise of it.

You didn't think you'd really talk to Kento again after having dirty, hot sex at his home—other than having to talk to him during work. But you're not working with him today and you're here talking to him. It feels like it did in the bar, now that you've gotten over the one-sided awkwardness you were feeling.

Kento had your full attention and you had his. Your legs brush against one another's underneath the table and it makes you aware of how close he was. You remember how you brushed shoulders at the bar and how your bodies felt pressed together in his bed. You have to bring yourself back to reality.

Your lunch break breezes by a lot faster than you'd like it to. You have to return to Dr. Geto's service and the thought of it makes you dread it. Kento chuckles to himself as you pout and drag yourself up from the table you both shared and then joins you in doing so. He has a couple more surgeries to do before he's done for the day, some routine procedures that won't take long.

Kento had enjoyed spending his break with you. He didn't want to return to wondering when he'd be able to talk to you again or wait until his days in the clinic to see you. As you both walk out of the cafeteria with brushing shoulders, he finds it in himself to ask you for your numbers.

“I was wondering if I could have your phone number,” Kento's cringing at himself, he sounds old and out of sync with this hook-up dating culture that people your age are doing. “So it'd be easier to...”

To what? Bootycall you? He almost wants to say never mind, and go back to bland coffee and tasteless foods. No, he knows that's not enough for him anymore. He wants more of your touch, your body, you.

Thankfully, you don't make him say it. “Sure, yeah.” You sound cool, nearly aloof, but you're anything but that. Kento hands you his phone for you to input your number. Just as you finish saving the contact, you realize the time at the top of his screen—you're gonna be late at returning from your lunch break.

“Shit, I gotta go.” You push his phone back to him and quickly leave, fast on your feet as you walk away.

“Talk to you later.” Kento says, though you're gone already. He stares at his phone screen.

_________

The second portion of the day goes by a lot slower than you would have preferred. You feel like you can finally catch your breath after keeping up with Dr. Geto the whole day. You close your work laptop slowly, sighing out tiredly.

“Good job today.” You hear Dr. Geto's smooth voice day to you. You perk up and look at him. If you were a dog, your tail would be wagging.

“Oh—thank you!” You reply brightly. “I really enjoyed working with you.”

That's a lie. Dr. Geto didn't slow down for a second after lunch, if anything, he had started working faster. He also didn't take time to go the extra mile to talk or teach you about neurosurgery, like Satoru and Kento had. He wasn't required to, but it would have been appreciated on your part. Still, there's no denying Dr. Geto was a genius at what he does for a living. He had a lot more complex post-operative patients today, so you still had the opportunity to learn about his surgical cases and their treatment plans by being in the room and listening as you scribed.

Dr. Geto isn't much of a talker if he doesn't need to be, so he nods at your words in acknowledgement before leaving for the day.

You take a look around as you come from down that people-pleasing high you just experienced and see Yuji grimly working with Dr. Ieiri, the surgical oncologist, in one part of the clinic. You spot Nobara's eye twitching with near annoyance as she works with Dr. Haibara, the OBGYN, in the other part of the clinic. They would be better suited if they switched physicians.

Your roommates still have some time left in their workday, while you were able to go home now since you had started earlier today. You wave at them, Yuji brightly smiles at you and waves back, Nobara scrunches her nose in friendly envy that you're able to leave now, but waves back too.

You make it home after leaving work and stopping at a gas station for your car. Your phone had been more silent the entire time despite turning on your ringer for the first time in a long time—you always preferred your phone on vibrate. Not a peep from an unknown number you were hoping to hear from.

What's gotten into you? Looking forward to Kento hitting you up? Get a grip.

You shower when you get home and change into some loungewear. You finally feel your body relaxing as you lay in bed freshly showered and in clean clothes. You try to scroll mindlessly on your phone, but you feel your eyes getting heavier and tired until you finally give into the sinking feeling. You've sunk too deep into a quiet nap when your phone finally does ring.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

This is Kento. I hope your day improved.

sticky note:

i didn't want to specify where this au takes place or what specific ages the characters are because i wanted to give readers free reign on that, if that makes sense. though, since i am from america then most of my writing may be american-based (like the insurance part of this fic lol), but i'm am trying to stay unspecific in those areas. but even tho an age gap is intentional, i may never specify what ages everyone is because that way anyone reading can imagine an age gap they're comfortable with, if that makes sense too.

ps. when i worked as a scribe i saw an insurance company deny cancer treatment for a patient with prostate cancer bc the insurance company believed “it was not necessary” :O

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phanfictioncatalogue · 4 months ago

Text

(TW) Alcohol Masterlist

30 Days To Fall - kawaii-kanai

Summary: Dan’s scraped by in life, never really enjoying it due to persistent bullies, stern parents, and loneliness. When a mysterious man from his past tells him he only has 30 days left to live, he finally takes the initiative to make the best of what time he has left.

All I Want (ao3) - det395

Summary: Prompt: It’s Christmas, Dan/Phil is alone and doesn’t have anyone to spend Christmas with, so one winds up drunk and passed out in the snow, the other finds them and brings them back to their apartment to make sure they’re okay and not dying.

All I Want for Christmas is You - scifiphan

Summary: It’s almost Christmas and all it takes is a cup of mulled wine for Dan to realise he has been in love with Phil all along.

Angel Baby (ao3) - bestelitecouple

Summary: Daniel Howell is tired of being seen as a Baby, especially because it’s been his given nickname ever since it became well-known that he skipped an entire year at university. He’s not someone who needs his hand held or a dummy in his mouth, and yet everyone who knows him seem to think so, if they even know him at all. He decides that if he wants to get rid of his child-like image, he’s going to have to change. But just how far is he willing to go to clear his name? And what does a certain boy who’s far too cool for him have to do with it?

a thread to hold - waverlysangels

Summary: Phil wanted a sensible life, a fireplace and a picket fence, and Dan was a wrecking ball he could simply no longer afford to keep around. But once you care for someone, it never really goes away, a constant thread between the two of them.

Climbing The Ladder (ao3) - kawaiikanai

Summary: Punk!Dan and Punk/TattooArtist!Phil both struggle to find themselves after past event that have shaken their trust in other people and in themselves.

drunk words are sober thoughts (ao3) - bombshellphil

Summary: The opportunity of a life time comes in the form of Phil Lester actually showing up at a party, all tattoos and bright blue eyes. Dan's been crushing on him for far too long, so getting the chance to play Never Have I Ever with his crush? Yeah, he can't pass that one up. What could go wrong?

Drunken Anons (ao3) - maetaurus

Summary: In Dan’s drunken state of mind, he decides it’s a good idea to send suggestive anons to Phil. The only problem, Dan forgot to click the anon button.

Drunken Conclusion - passionfruitwriter

Summary: | Dan gets drunk while Phil is away and accidentally buys a wedding ring

Empty Double Cups (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: Dan and Phil are in a relationship, but you wouldn’t think it. They attempt to surpass their first milestone as a couple – their first house party, where everyone would see them together.

Feeling Good - birdyhowell

Summary: Dan steals alcohol and brownies from a party his brother was holding (who I made older in this fic) and meets Phil at their favourite meet-up place. Best friends for years, they get really drunk for the first time and learn that the brownies they had were actually weed brownies. Cue young Dan and Phil confessing some feels and start hooking up.

Hiding Truth (ao3) - ineffabledaniel

Summary: Badboy, Heartbreaker, Demon. These are all words that perfectly discribe Daniel Howell. Dan’s parents stuck him in a boarding school full of humans. It was going pretty grest for a little while. Until a tall dark haired boy ruins his perfect world by becoming his roommate.

I’ll Hold Your Flower Crown (ao3)- kitchen_sinks

Summary: Small pastel!Dan gets drunk at a party and throws up all over punk!Phil and his leather jacket

Of Love and Demons (ao3) - parentaladvisorybullshitcontent

Summary: “Everything can love, Dan.”

“Don’t think so.”

“Well, I do.”

Dan looks at him - properly looks at him - the earnest twist of his eyebrows and his unbearable eyes. Maybe that’s what makes him say it.

“What’s it like, then?”

In which Dan, a demon, learns about love. Good Omens inspired AU.

Ride Sharing (ao3) - phansparent

Summary: Phil hates the drunken idiots who troll the streets of London on his commute home. He doesn’t mind ones named Dan who share his cab and spontaneously give him blowjobs.

Settling Down (ao3) - thatsmistertoyou

Summary: Dan and Phil go to an arcade and get to talking about kids and commitment. They then get drunk with other YouTubers, who force them to reconsider their relationship.

Snakebite Heart with a Bubblegum Smile - dark-days-dark-nights-xx

Summary: Phil didn’t want to be there, he really didn’t, but his parents had insisted Uni would benefit and he was determined to hate it. That was until he met his roommate, a guy whose wardrobe consisted of pastel jumpers and flower crowns who made Phil admit who he really was. (Punk/pastel Uni! AU)

Stuck In A Moment (ao3) - jedinow

Summary: Dan Howell (danisnotonfire) is stuck in a time loop. Unfortunately, his flatmate and best friend Phil Lester (AmazingPhil) is not stuck in the loop with him. Dan explores many activities and experiences a wide variety of emotions as he searches for the key to finally breaking the loop.

Terrifying Truths And Drunken Dares (ao3) - thejigsawtimess

Summary: It's late, they're both drunk, but there's vodka and each other, and hey - you know what sounds great? Truth or frickin dare.

The Bet (ao3) - Do_it_with_the_Howell_Lesters

Summary: Dan was drunk, he shouldn’t have even considered it but… “How much?”

“£100.” Jack grinned, hiccuping and taking a swig of his beer. “Deal?”

The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot (ao3) - auroraphilealis (peachrayne)

Summary: Dan has never been a fan of frat houses, and after Phil comes onto him at a frat party and then pushes him into a pool, Dan can’t help feeling vindicated. Phil, on the other hand, just wants to apologize.

The Iron Hoof Cattle Call (ao3) - phangelica

Summary: Dan is a hitman going town to town trying to run away from his past and Phil is a bartender who just wants to help. Set in the late 1800s in the Arizona-Mexico border.

The Torture of OCD - wishicouldunreadthat

Summary: (tw) “We’ve just completed the full assessment of Dan’s behaviour and regret to inform you…” The doctor leaned forward in his chair and watched Phil, eyes full of heavy sympathy. “We believe Dan is suffering with OCD.”

to roll with what comes (ao3) - symmetricdnp

Summary: But Phil had thought those were just stories. Stories that people would stumble upon online or hear from a friend, that’d make them think of how lucky they were that it didn’t happen to them.

Phil's comfortable yet decidedly average life gets turned upside down when he ends up bonded to a barista that he's exchanged about three sentences with.

we have more in common than i thought (ao3) - pseudofangs

Summary: bad boy!dan has a bit of a secret crush on nerd!phil, and when grouped with him in class he uses the opportunity to convince him to come to a party. (what happens next will shock you!!) (not really, no shocks don’t worry)

featuring a latin class, a party, becky&jessica, flustered drunk boys. and more softness than intended.

You and I Against The World (ao3) - my_happy_little_bean

Summary: Dan and Phil are top MI5 agents, partners, and best friends. But when a party goes wrong and Dan is kidnapped, Phil is thrown into a chaos only he can get out of. Between mysterious clues, vengeful friends, hidden feelings, and sleeping with your bestie, he believes his social life may be harder than his actual job.

You're Easy to Crack (ao3) - TheUKAmazingDan

Summary: dan and phil are both cocky frat boys that love beer almost as much as they love each other. dan, drunk and horny, challenges phil to a game of beer pong: whoever wins, tops. may the games begin.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #masterlists #tw #alcohol tw #alcohol #alcohol masterlist #drugs #drinking #drinking tw

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beevean · 8 months ago

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I think I understood another key with which to read Shizune's route, in particular her bad ending:

Hisao cheats on Misha if he gets overwhelmed by Shizune's personality.

Shizune means well, as she genuinely enjoys making people happy, but she is a controlling, overbearing person. This is the core of her character. I pointed out how she is the only girl who, the Saturday before the festival, doesn't wait for Hisao to come to her, but instead she is the one physically dragging Hisao out of his room. This is what she does: she drags people into her life, and then takes control, because otherwise she's not quite sure of how to keep people nearby.

This is not a good thing. Misha shows why it's not a good thing. Shizune kept Misha nearby despite her heartache - of course because she liked her as a friend, not just out of selfish reasons, but her "comparmentalizing" mentality still caused the poor girl pain.

If you choose to "comfort" Misha, we get this line:

After all, I've only had sex once before, and I was restrained to a chair. This time, I'm in control, like I'd wished then.

When Shizune and Hisao had sex at her place, she seized complete control. She tied him to a chair, which is the equivalent of gagging him, and then rode him, without him being able to do anything. Hisao noted that she seemed to alternate between aggressiveness and naiveté, like a girl pretending to be a woman: most likely, she also saw this act as a challenge to win. The thing is that Hisao didn't sound fully on board:

NARRATOR: "I wonder exactly when it was that I started being attracted to her. Not just attracted to her physically, but drawn to her. And, I wonder why. She's pretty, but then, also very combative. Not just that, but she seems to like being that way. The way she's acting now, however, and at other times, doesn't really fit that image. I'm starting to think that maybe her tying my hands might have been for more reasons than just the most obvious." NARRATOR: "Still, that aggressiveness that she flashes around as comfortably as a business card is real. I don't know whether or not that kind of attitude could be considered dangerous. If it is, I wonder what kind of person that makes me. It was probably the first week I was here. A week doesn't sound so long when I think about it, but at the time it did. Even though I pretty much thought my days were numbered that week, it still seemed to go by so slowly. Even if she can't hear me, it puts me at ease. I started to realize that I didn't have that much to complain about. But there's still... Well, never mind."

Hisao's sentiment is pretty much "it's nice, but". The last line might refer to his hesitation at having been put in this position of submission, which he decides to brush off, but still lingers.

He wanted control. He wanted at the very least a higher degree of freedom. The freedom Shizune didn't afford him, because Shizune has seized control of his life, and the only time Hisao is even allowed to make a choice, it's when she's nowhere to be seen.

And he can choose to break free from Shizune's control in the worst way possible, getting closer to the less overbearing Misha. Remember: the route falsely implies that Misha is crushing on Hisao, before the big reveal that she's actually interested in Shizune.

At this point, whether Hisao slept with Misha or not, Shizune realizes that she's been a bad friend and girlfriend for yanking people around, and she comes out with the grand plan of asking Hisao to cheer Misha up for her.

The branching point between good and bad ending is that in the latter, not only Misha never recovers, but Lilly shows up again.

This scene is mostly remembered for being a huge continuity error: what is she doing here, isn't she supposed to be in Scotland? That's true. But aside from this, it's interesting that Lilly has one last conversation with Hisao the moment his relationship with Shizune has started to irreversibly spiral.

This scene only exists for Lilly to voice Hisao's, and maybe the player's, thoughts about Shizune:

LILLY: "I wish you hadn't been so quick to join. I don't like the way Shizune runs the Student Council. Did you know that she scared off most of the old members? That is why I think she tries to surround herself with people who won't oppose her. And they don't. It's like a dependency bubble."

LILLY: "Is that so? Either way, there is no point in attempting to force them to make up. Always try to confront everything head-on is what Shizune would do, but it doesn't work in the real world. At some point, it's just being stubborn, not bravery or good intentions."

LILLY: "When I joined the Student Council, I thought it would just mean helping everything run smoothly and helping people out, like being the class representative. Instead, every day consisted of having Shizune stomp around, using Misha like a megaphone, to talk about how we had to outdo the last Student Council, and create more and more events, and make them increasingly larger."

HISAO: "Yeah, sure. The point is, I think I understand what it's all about now. You're really giving Shizune too much of a hard time." LILLY: "That might be true, but when it comes to how she treats individual people, she doesn't do very well." NARRATOR: "Unfortunately, that one is a little harder to argue."

It's all about Shizune's flaws. It's all about her abrasive personality, her stubborness. Lilly accuses her of wrapping herself in a dependancy bubble, of using Misha like a megaphone, and by the end, not even Hisao can defend her. He might understand Shizune's vision for the Student Council, but he has grown tired of everything Lilly has pointed out - after all, it's why he went behind her back, right?

And to an extent, he's right, because when things come to a breaking point, Shizune once again falls into her old selfishness: it's her who decides that she wants to be away from other people, because she has decided thar she's a terrible person who poisons every relationship of hers. Of course, Hisao really has no fucking right to call her selfish anymore, after what he did... but he does have a point. It's just sad under multiple angles.

Of course, you can also choose to see his decision to "comfort" Misha in another way: him succumbing to passivity once again.

"As much as I pretend to protest, I've allowed things to come to this point. Even though I knew so far ahead of when she actually came out with it that this was what she was getting at. At the very least, I was okay with this outcome. If I needed any more proof, it's simple: I still haven't turned her away. I could have at any point, and it was wrong of me not to do it sooner, but now, not doing so is something beyond simple carelessness."

Hisao goes along with having sex with Misha because welp, might as well at this point! She wants this, so sure, why not.

So in summary, Hisao pushing Misha away in the good ending might be seen as 1) him taking a decision without Shizune's influence at all, 2) him respecting both Misha and Shizune enough to do the right thing, without any resentment or lingering crush getting in the way.

Sadly I wish I had more to say about Shizune's good ending, because I like her route, but that ending has little to do with her as a character and it's more about the theme of graduating and moving on. It is to note, of course, that if you do get the good ending, Hisao is rewarded with another sex scene with Shizune, and this time he's able to gain the control he wanted, the two being finally equals. And at least Shizune is able to recognize her flaws without pushing her friends away, because she had proof that they care about her and she has a positive impact on them.

Shizune's route is fun to analyze. It doesn't have the major feels, and most of the complaints against it make sense, but reading between the lines was the intent and personally I have a lot of fun with it. It helps that Shizune is a very well written character, reasonably flawed but still compelling. Kind of a shame that the bad ending is better written than the good ending, though.

#katawa shoujo #shizune hakamichi #yes you can't stop me from writing meta about a 12 yo forgotten vn #i have the thoughts. the thoughts demand to be put on paper

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