#but i changed the idea midway for it and it turned into its own thing. but yeah the prologue was tsuna kissing onto the CZ75 barrel

[keirientez]

a draft that ill never finish so ill post it here

[talesofesther]

you're all I want love to be

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Tara is still afraid to allow people close, to allow herself to trust again. Until she finds someone who makes it easier.

A/N: The idea for this was also given to me by my dear @iamnicodemus. Hope y'all like it. Tara, I love u. <3

Masterlist

Tara never meant for it to happen.

It was actually the one thing she wanted the least. Catching feelings for someone only opens up more opportunities for her to get hurt.

And yet it happened so easily, so subtly, that she only realized it when the damage was already done.

She found you on her first day at the university. When she was admittedly very lost; backpack hanging from one shoulder, fifteen minutes late for her class, and walking in the opposite direction of it. You were the only person she'd bumped into when going past Blackmore's cafeteria, and after a bit of an internal pep talk, Tara walked up to you.

And if kindness could be a person, it would be you. Instead of just taking her to class, you gave Tara a simple tour of the university, promising to be around if she ever needed anything else.

Tara started noticing you on every corner of the campus after that. She didn't take you up on your offer though, choosing instead to keep her distance. Still, you always had a smile reserved for her at times you'd catch her staring. That didn't change when the rumors about her and Sam started, if anything, you became more approachable than before.

But it was only after an unfortunate incident, that Tara actually started hanging out with you;

October had started four days ago, and with it, the Halloween season. Parties were already being scheduled every other weekend and sometimes on weekdays as well.

Tara was walking towards her class, her head in the clouds while she thought about what costume she would wear if she were to go to one of those parties.

She was usually one to be early for class now that she had her paths memorized, preferring the calmness of the minutes before everyone started rushing to arrive on time.

So she wasn't exactly expecting what happened next.

As Tara rounded a corner, she was surprised to come face to face with two other students; one of them adorning a black hoodie and a cheap Ghostface mask. The 'boo' that left his lips was as childish as it could be, but the abruptness of the encounter got Tara stumbling on her own feet as she took several steps back, eyes wide and her body momentarily entering fight or flight mode.

"What's wrong, Carpenter?" The guy in the mask said in a mocking tone, his friend joining in on the laughter, "thought I was your sister?"

Tara's voice was tangled up in her throat, she couldn't remember if she packed her inhaler this morning, or was it her taser that she forgot?

If unkind memories weren't flashing behind her eyes, Tara would have recognized the two idiots in front of her; the boys who came here to do anything but study, taking getting on people's nerves as a hobby.

It was only when the back of their heads was hit — quite forcefully — with a book, that they stopped laughing. The cheap mask fell to the ground with the hit, gaining a crack on its edge.

"Don't you guys have anything better to do?" You came from behind them, tucking the book back in your backpack, "fuck off before I tell the director what you've been doing out in the parking lot when you think no one's watching."

With a few complaints under their breath, they eventually walked away, allowing Tara to let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Morons," you huffed, tugging on the straps of your backpack before turning around to Tara, your gaze softening immediately, "you okay?"

Her dark eyes found yours. She simply nodded, feeling her lower lip quivering when she tried to speak. She noticed the way your hand twitched to reach out to her but you stopped yourself midway, instead tucking both hands in your pockets.

"I'm sorry about them," you told her with the usual gentleness you never lacked, "they should know better than to do that."

Tara shook her head softly, managing a smile when her heartbeat started to settle, "thank you for… stepping in."

You just shrugged, your smile coming as a copy of hers, and it got Tara wondering if it could hold the same sentiment too.

"Anytime," you told her then, and Tara hardly left your side after it.

It was easy to fall into the routine of having you near and pretending she was just a normal girl with a crush on her friend. Being with you was so easy that it made Tara forget about all the bad, forget about all the reasons why allowing people close became dangerous.

And today? Today should be a good day, it's a day Tara has been looking forward to, a day that took away her sleep for all the good reasons. And it's not like she never stopped to get coffee with you on the way to campus, but today felt different because you had asked her to, as a date.

And Tara had been counting the seconds for it; until Ghostface came back and nearly killed her and Sam at that grocery store, until Mindy said 'never trust the love interest', until her worst nightmares came back again and suddenly nothing was easy anymore.

"Alright guys, as much as I love discussing possible suspects with you," Chad pushed himself off the bench he'd been sitting on, "we've still got classes to go to, come on Ethan." The two boys gathered their things and walked away, Quinn soon following behind.

Tara slumped back in her seat, her hands coming up to cover her eyes. With her sight momentarily gone, it felt like everything else was louder, heavier; she could perfectly hear the rustling of leaves from the trees around, the cacophony of voices from all the other students hanging out outside, and feel the weight of Sam's gaze on her.

"I think someone's looking for you, lovergirl," Mindy said out of nowhere, kicking Tara's sneaker with her own. When Tara glanced up at her friend with a frown, all Mindy did was tilt her head towards the university, where you had just walked out from and were now making your way to them.

"Don't think I haven't noticed," Mindy teased with a sing-song voice and a grin plastered on her lips.

"Noticed what?" Sam sat up straighter, her gaze shifting from Tara to Mindy.

"Tara's girlfr-"

"Nothing," Tara interrupted quickly, getting up so she could land a gentle punch to Mindy's shoulder, "nothing to notice," she said again, pointedly.

"Alright, let's go, Sam," Mindy extended a hand for the older girl, "we'll meet back at the dorm later."

Sam still had a confused frown on her features but she took the hand offered to her anyway, while Mindy leaned closer to Tara so she could whisper; "always knew you had good taste," before both of them walked again.

Tara's cheeks went aflame as she let out a groan, predicting the onslaught of questions she'd get later today. She slowly turned around to meet you in the middle, her soul naturally filling with incessant butterflies.

Had she really been that unsubtle when regarding you?

"Hey," you greeted her a little breathlessly, letting go of your backpack and leaving it on the floor as you took a small extra step closer to Tara, your eyes frantically looking her over, "I was so worried when I saw what happened last night, are you-"

"I'm okay," it was instinct, but Tara didn't know if the words were true. There was something about you that always made her feel more than she wanted to, she suddenly felt like the last pieces of herself she'd been trying to hold together so hard over the last months started crumbling. Tara took hold of your hands, squeezing tightly. She didn't know who she was trying to comfort, you or herself.

You held her back, glancing down as your fingers intertwined with hers. Tara observed the way your lashes kissed the corner of your cheeks; you were all golden softness and spring warmth, presence rivaling the one of a welcoming sun on a cold day. Tara wanted to memorize that, keep it in her heart as if it was the first and last time she'd be seeing you.

It should be easy to forget and pretend, but it suddenly wasn't, because Mindy's words kept ringing inside Tara's head even if she didn't want them to be true. She felt tears steadily collecting on the bottom lid of her eyes.

"But," she closed her eyes at the unsteadiness of her own voice. More than anything, she wanted this, wanted you. But she was stuck. It felt like quicksand, pulling her further down the more she struggled to get out. "about today…"

It's like you knew her better than she knew herself sometimes, maybe for you, it still felt easy. "It's alright, Tara." Your thumb brushed over the scar on top of her hand, "we don't have to go, I understand."

Tara pursed her lips, blinking away her vulnerability. She let go of your hands only to loop her arm around yours and bring your bodies closer together, "walk me to class, though?"

—

"Come on, spill it, what's up between you two?" Mindy leaned back on the kitchen counter beside Tara, "I was joking earlier today, but now I actually think there's something there."

The carrot Tara was cutting ended up with a slice too big, she had to turn it around and cut it one more time in the middle, "I've told you, there's nothing going on," Tara told her friend with a sigh, making sure to cut smaller slices so she could keep her hands busy as long as possible; "she's my friend."

Mindy scoffed, she picked up a spoon from the sink and tasted whatever Chad was cooking up on the stove. A grimace came to her face at the lack of seasoning, "I've heard that before."

"It's not like that," Tara dropped the knife then, unsure what she was frustrated about or what she wanted to convince Mindy of, "how can I get… involved with someone after what happened?" Her voice grew quieter by the end.

Mindy softened at that, she turned to face Tara fully — everyone knew the younger Carpenter was still struggling with what she'd been through, even if she didn't want to admit it. "I know it's not easy, T. But you can't close yourself off for everyone, some people are still worth it," Mindy glanced towards the living room, a soft smile on her lips when Anika's silhouette came into view, "people aren't meant to be islands."

—

There are times when the pain is so big, that it almost doesn't feel like pain anymore. If it comes from a wound, that's usually the time when you'll pass out. If it comes from inside, you start to feel numb.

Sitting at the back of an ambulance as she watches cops walking out with another one of her friends in a dark body bag, Tara thinks she's close to that feeling. Mindy is sitting beside her, she's not moving. Tara doesn't know what to say in moments like these, they feel almost awkward. A morbid kind of awkward.

So when she gets up, cell phone in hand with your number already ringing, she blames it on that; on the pain squeezing her chest almost to the point of unbearable, on the helplessness she feels twirling in her gut.

Tara paced back and forth on the sidewalk, trying to draw out the noise of the sirens as she counted up the seconds until you picked up.

… Two, three, four.

Tara could hear her own heart rate quicken, she closed her eyes, thinking about how her inhaler was still all the way up in the apartment; where there's blood, and-

Please, pick up. Please, pick up.

"Hello?"

A long sigh of relief left Tara's lips as soon as she heard your voice through the phone. As if she hadn't cried enough, she could see tears clouding her sight.

"Tara? What happened, is everything okay?"

"No, it's not," Tara forced out, her voice tight with a sudden rawness. She turned her back to Mindy so the girl wouldn't see her crying, "there was another attack… Anika didn't make it."

"Oh god, I can't-" Tara could hear you choking on your own voice, "are you okay? Please tell me you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm-" Tears made a steady path down to Tara's chin, some getting caught under the phone pressed tightly to her cheek, "I'm alright."

"Tell me where you are, I can be there in like ten- five minutes."

"No!" Tara said with urgency, "don't come here, please, I don't want you anywhere near this," she gulped back a lump in her throat, "it's too dangerous."

"But what about you?"

"I'll be okay," Tara closed her eyes, wishing the words really were true, "I just-" she hesitated, a confession lingering on her tongue, "I just wanted to hear your voice, is all." She bit onto her lower lip until it drew blood.

"We- we can talk for as long as you need," it was like Tara could hear your smile, "I'm happy to hear your voice too."

—

Ambulance lights and police sirens were clouding your senses as you run up to the commotion. It was quite a sight; your oversized shirt, shorts, and sneakers with mismatched high socks. But you couldn't remember to care because your heart had been at your throat ever since Mindy called.

There were several reporters blocking your view but you squeezed your way through them until you reached the police tape. You've always hated this; the white and red colors of the vehicles that only showed up in tragedies, the panic and grief that lay heavy in the air, the clicks of the cameras from people who saw it as an opportunity — you hated it all, but right now the only one on your mind is Tara.

You ducked to go under the police tape, immediately attracting the attention of one of the cops, "Miss, you can't be here, please go back behind-"

"No, you don't understand," you gripped at the fabric of his jacket when he tried to keep you back, trying to push through, "I know them."

And the cop kept speaking, probably about things you weren't allowed to do and places you shouldn't be. You didn't hear any of it, because you found her. Her blue shirt had more red than blue in it, dried blood was all over the fabric, making you feel a mix between relief and nauseousness; her hair was messy, tangled, and damp in some places; her skin still coated with bits of dirt and blood too; her arm was held up by a makeshift bandage. But she was there, talking to a blonde woman on a stretcher; she was alive.

"Tara," you called quietly as your sight blurred over, and then a little louder, "Tara!"

She looked up, any words she'd been saying dying on her lips when she saw you. For a beat, it seemed as if she was assessing if you were real or not, before she was all but running towards you.

Not caring for consequences, you pushed the cop off of you and met her halfway — lucky for you he apparently noticed you really knew them.

"What are you doing here?" Tara's eyes were glinting under the red and blue lights, there were clear tracks on her cheeks where tears had run down.

"I was-" you tried, stumbling over your words as you took her in, all blood stains and bruises. You raised a hand to push back her fringe, the strands of hair were damp to the touch; from sweat or blood, you didn't want to know. "Mindy called, and scared the shit out of me. I came as fast as I could."

With her lower lip stuck between her teeth, Tara leaned into your touch. Her eyes closed tightly when your thumb traced the outline of her eyebrow.

"Are you okay? I mean of course you're not okay, what am I even-"

You were cut off when Tara threw herself at you. She pulled you close with her free hand, nails almost digging into your skin with the force of it as she buried her head on your shoulder.

Quiet sobs shook her body and you held her back the best you could whilst being mindful of her injuries. One of your hands cradled her head, fingers tangled in her dark hair as you breathed in everything that was her. "Shit, I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

Tara only pushed herself into you more as you spoke. There was a beat, a moment of hesitance from someone who'd had the bitter taste of betrayal more than anyone should. Trust was a gamble, but when you had a place in her heart no one else could ever have, Tara knew you'd never break it. "I'm okay now," she spoke against you; and she believed it.

You only squeezed her tighter, pulling back just enough to land a kiss on her temple. And you allowed your lips to linger, to feel her skin against you and her heartbeat pressed to your own.

Tara melted in your hold, allowing you to support most of her weight. With her cheek pressed to your collarbone, she spoke; "you still owe me a date."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Tara’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @alexkolax

[moonshynecybin]

I find Marc covered up fully underneath his leathers, upto his neck & wrists, so fascinating when we have the others in half sleeves, mesh or nothing. I can't remember if he always was that way or changed midway, if there was a particular reason? If Alex does the same? It just gives regency era eldest spinster daughter hair tied up tight covered up to the neck waiting for the highest titled rake to come show her the pleasures waiting for her.

marc would be SOOOO good at the kate sharma of it all. like bridgerton season two is in many ways rosquez 2 me. marc WOULD deny himself love and marriage if he convinced himself it would protect alex and vale WOULLD close himself off from love for fear of losing anyone he loved ever again after the untimely death of his [dont worry about it] from a bee sting. perfect set up for vale to decide to court marc's much more agreeable and younger (NOT A SPINSTERRRR) brother who because he needs someone to secure the family's future with and alex is one of the most eligible and educated bachelors on the market. and he knows he will never fall in love with him. whereas marc is known for going on crazy person horse rides (how he first meets vale) and pissing people off. and ALEX is locked in this fun codependency thing with marc, where marc sacrificed so much to get him there from spain and its the only way they can like. still live in the same household because the marquez finances are a lil shaky for regency reasons (alex it should be noted will fall for vale's ward franky SO fast and they shall have their own tortured by familial obligation repressed regency drama please trust this. it WOULD involve alex saving franky from bandits. again trust.)

so anyways vale commits to courting the idea of alex. butttt marc and vale. kind of hit it off. chemistry! goofballs ! a game of crochet that legitimately turns a little dangerous (marc is. cheating the whole time lmao. vale is ALSO cheating he is kicking balls into the bushes and. possibly. checking out marc's ass when he bends over to fetch them. victimless crime looking never hurt anyone.) truly luca meets marc and is like lovely to meet the man my brother plans to marry :) and alex vale marc are all like. um. hah. about that. EVERYONE can see and marc and vale are down fucking horrendous but are cutting themselves off from love so aggressively its UPSETTING ! vale CANNOT lose anyone he loves and marc will sacrifice EVERYTHING for alex's future so they are locked in horny tension for monthsss. it is. insanely horny close proximity sniffing. it is. dancing at balls probably more than is strictly proper. it is. marc getting pushed into a body of water and having to strip off his paper thin old-timey shirttttt. getting wayyyy too into betting on horse races like they are throwing elbows. alone in various well dressed rooms breathing the same air SO much yearning and holding back because like. they CANT do that to alex (alex. does not want that man lmao).

until finallyyyyy its alex and vale's wedding day and marc feels like hes going to THROW UPPPPPP. worlds saddest little spinster. pale sad brave face on. but he walks in and vale is just. he cant take his fucking eyes off marc. at the alter in a church in his best suit. he cant stop looking at him. and he feels like hes going to cry but he doesnt know why. and alex walks in and looks at the two of them looking like they want to DIE and it clicks. right then. that theyre in love (huge relief off of his shoulders tbh. already sexting franky via horny letter in his mindpalace) like alex KNOWS his brother and he KNOWS the only way get marc to stop doing something self destructive is for alex to tell him he doesnt have to. so he turns away from vale and he takes marc's hands. and he calls of the wedding.

BUT that doesnt resolve our central conceit on vale's end. what do you do when the scariest thing in the world is the person you love dying. and that is a belief that has been informed by person you love dying trauma. well in vale's case you simply have to realize YOU ARE ALREADY IN LOVE... TOO LATE IDIOT. having them and MAYBE losing them is better than never having them and losing them ANYWAYYY. so in this its like. the wedding falls through, alex marries franky so hes fine, and marc gets in a HORSE RIDING ACCIDENT ! and its uh. not looking good. and marc almost DIES and vale wasnt even THERE and he didnt knowwww how vale feels. he never got to be with him :( truly life is fleeting go fuck your twink :( finds out marc is going to be okay and cries for hmm. maybe the first time in ten years? and then they get married :)

[the-mercurial-star-o-vesper]

SRMTHFG! - The Legend of the Six Monkey

Mandarin, as a concept, is fascinating. Mandarin, as he's presented, is... disappointing.

As he's presented, the only thing that really goes for him is that he's the Sixth Monkey turned Evil, and that's as far as it went. Then he just became a wacky villian who lasted longer than a week, because he's aesthetically appeals to the hero team, the Hyper Force.

The problem with having such set up, but not having any decent presentation that couldn't be found in "name a comic book newspaper strip", is that eventually you just end up with a mook character that has an aesthetic.

And that cuts the branches off from "was a teammate turned bad".

The way Mandarin is introduced, immediately brings such a suddenly serious take to the show. Because now we know the show is self aware enough to make its own in-world connections and take them seriously, and that catches attention.

He isn't just the Sixth Member of the Hyper Force, he was the Leader.

He wasn't just the Leader, as we later find, he was the First Monkey made.

And he wasn't just a tyrant over the Hyper Force. He did enough good with enough good intentions, that he was considered the Wisest, the Strongest and the Best. That though he definitely pulled some horrible stuff near the end (such as Nova's torture excused as training), he can still be spoken of fondly by Antauri.

( We can trust the Hyper Force not to turn to evil action, even under direction, so we have to assume that Mandarin had, at one point, been a leader with a decent enough nature. And that his torture of Nova was coming in when he was about to betray the Hyper Force )

His skill set speaks of a Jack of All Trades, even though he lacked the equipment the other Monkeys had--which meant he had to be Very Clever.

And as its implied in Golden Age... he didn't start evil, he was corrupted in the same way the Alchemist was, though not nearly as physically.

Effectively--Mandarin had starred into the Abyss, and the Abyss starred back. And it was a subtle corruption. In fact, the entire show serves constant evidence about how corruption goes through all sorts of scenarios.

So its disappointing that we receive so few indications of how Mandarin was, or any depth beyond "I hate the monkey force whom I used to know", without any situation that shows how well he knew them.

Nova got an episode that dealt in torture, but we don't see the rest of the force.

Hell, we don't even see Mandarin's own torture. He went from independant master mind, to foolish obsessive mook under the Skeleton King (with the outright implication of torture, forceful mutation, and more, to ensure loyalty--and it seemingly cost him his jack-of-trades status and self-determination (corrupted as it was)).

And then, midway through the show, Mandarin dies and gets replaced with a clone. The clone is everything evil that the show wants outta of Mandarin, but without the depth of conflict that would occurred with the original.

Its the writing idea of "the uncanny replacement"--they are the character, but its just off enough that the writer can write what they want out of the character, without having to dive into the complexity of the original set up or change the over all character.

( Its like writing superman. Say that you want an evil superman, but don't want to permanently change his character or destroy his set up and meaning--So, why not just make an Evil Clone, and end it with "It was the Evil CLone after all!". Its a cheap trope, but it does work. )

Since SRMTHFG takes its set ups very seriously, it had to go the round about way of avoiding the set up it already had, in order to get the "aesthetic villian rivalry" it wanted, without creating a story about character motivation or relationships, or contradicting / retconning itself.

Clone Mandarin can simply hurt the main characters as much as he wants, with character reason, but without the show ever diving into the whys, hows, and depths. And the Audience doesn't generally question "why don't they try to redeem him?"

( I mean... I do, but I'm not THE AUDIENCE, I'm just the odd ball in the corner of the theatre. )

When it comes to set up... when you know more about the character, no matter what they've done and why, the audience as a whole will get sympathetically attached. If you don't show anything of the character, only telling what they've done and maybe a hint of evil here and there, its very hard to get sympathetically attached.

Mandarin's arc screams of potential sympathetic attachment, because his is a backstory we're slowly, painfully, shown at points. And given the show as a whole, that dives into various scenarios but keeps those scenarios, we can piece together what happened with Mandarin without having to be explicitly shown it.

And We're in a show where redemption is as easy as earning forgiveness from the heroes, so of course, someone the heroes grew up with and worked with, and followed with genuine loyalty up until the wire, would be the greatest example of desired redemption.

If you never show the character, you don't get that sympathetic attachment, and we don't scream "Redemption Arc!". the problem comes in, is that when you've set up a character that would naturally fall into sympathetic attachment--you now have a cause of boredom with a character. Because you've stepped by stepped showed that you aren't going to do anything with them, so what's the point of keeping up with them, and if there's no point in keeping up with them, then what's the point of all that complex backstory?

You might as well set up a mook with an aesthetic.

[dudeshusband]

Ship: Mike x Pete Nelson

Words: 900

Description: Mike and Pete get a pumpkin.

Warnings: A bit of insecurity on Mike's part. But that's just me.

The circus returned back to its home base after Halloween. It had been a long spring and summer of touring the country, and soon the circus would close for the winter. Mike walked through the crunching leaves, on their way from pitching hay for the elephants. They passed their boyfriend, who was dealing cards on the Midway. His eyes lit up as he saw them, and he ran up to meet them. 

“Hi, Pete,” they said. 

“There’s a pumpkin patch, a little ways off from the circus.” 

Mike furrowed their eyebrows. “A pumpkin patch…?” 

He nodded. “Get your coat and I’ll get you one.” 

“Pete, it’s after Halloween.” 

“Make a pie out of it. I don’t know. It’s not Christmas yet.” 

Mike smiled. He seemed so adamant about it. “You know, if you want to spend time with me, you can just say so.” 

His eyes glittered in the light of the setting sun. It made Mike weak in the knees. 

“I wanna spend time with you.” 

He said it so gently, so earnestly. Mike thought they turned to jelly right there. 

“Well, I have to change,” Mike said. “I have to put something nice on.” 

“You always look nice.” 

Mike shook their head fondly. “Pete, that’s not what I meant.” 

Mike hurried off to Pete’s trailer, which they lived in at this point. They made quick work of freshening up, changing into one of their turtleneck dresses, and applying makeup. They twisted their hair into the neatest bun they could do quickly. 

Pete was waiting for them outside the door, leaning against the side of the trailer. He’d put on his jacket, and held a cigarette loosely between his lips.

“Ready?” he asked, without taking the cigarette out of his mouth. 

They nodded, and stepped down. Pete took their hand in his, and used the other to light his cigarette. He turned to them, flitting his eyes up and down their body. 

“You get all dolled up just for me?” 

Mike chuckled. “Not just for you.” 

“For the people at the pumpkin patch?” 

Mike shook their head. “What about me? Don’t I get to look good for myself?” 

“Sure you do.” 

Mike stared at their boyfriend as much as they could on their walk, without tripping. He looked ever so pretty in his blue jacket and the crisp morning air. His hand was warm compared to Mike’s which always ran cold. And, they could help but be mesmerized by his lips. When he smiled, when he talked, and when he smoked, as he was now. They often wondered if he had a similar obsession with them. 

As they walked, he glanced at them every so often, smiling gently. They wondered, too, what he was smiling at. What did he see? The hastily applied lipstick? The tired eyes? The hair sticking out of their bun? Some permanent, flawed, facet of Mike’s face? What was he romanticizing in his mind? 

Mike had gotten lost in their own head, so much so, they had no idea where they were. 

“Mike, honey, we’re here,” Pete said. He dropped his cigarette and put it out with his foot. 

Mike snapped out of their fog. “Sorry.” 

Mike looked around the pumpkin patch. It had some pumpkins still in their patch, some on carts, and a cart of non-pumpkin miscellanea. Up front there was a cart selling 10 cent hot apple cider. 

“Should we get a little one or a great big one?” Pete asked them. 

“Can we get some apple cider?” Mike asked him. 

He nodded, and led them to the apple cider cart. He ordered for them, which he was used to doing for girlfriends, and Mike didn’t see the point in correcting it. He paid, too, which Mike was still trying to get themselves used to. 

The pair sipped their cider and walked through the pumpkins. 

“We should get a small one,” Mike said. “It’ll be easier to take back and keep.” 

He nodded. 

“Also, don’t you think I should buy my own pumpkin?” 

“I don’t see why,” he said. “I’m takin’ you out. I wanted to get you one.” 

“Alright.” 

“I expect to buy you things,” he said. When Mike opened their mouth to protest, he amended, “I want to buy you things. It makes you happy. It makes me feel good.” 

He squeezed their hand gently. 

“Now, get yourself a pumpkin. Make us both happy.” 

Mike got one of the smallest pumpkins in the patch, and showed it to their boyfriend. 

“Here,” they said. 

“That’s barely a pumpkin!” he exclaimed, with some amusement. “That’s a kid pumpkin.” 

“It’s done growing,” Mike said. 

He took the pumpkin in his big hands. “It makes me feel like a giant.” 

Mike chuckled. “That’s the one. Perfect.”

Pete shook his head, but still smiled at them. He walked to the front, and gave the owner some money out of his wallet. Once the pumpkin was theirs, he returned back to Mike, and handed it to them. Then, he took their other hand. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Mike said. “It’s cold out here.” 

Pete swung his jacket off, and put it over Mike’s shoulders. 

“Hey, you only have that polo on, I have this turtleneck dress.” 

He smiled. “I can handle it.” 

Mike snuggled up to him as they walked. It was a bit awkward, but they soon figured it out, and made their way back to the circus. 

[pxper-cranes]

Meddling Kids Redesigns

It took a while, but I finally finished all four designs of the main gang. There are still some tings I would change if I were to redesign them again, just by seeing all the other ones on tumblr.

I'll do some headcannons here, and maybe draw them again with plot ideas for a fictionalised series I would make with them.

Fist of all, they would start out as high schoolers, then go into univertity after. either way they would all be adults when the film starts

None of these guys are cishet or neurotypical sorry slays but you cant tell me otherwise

Thirdly, these guys are FRIENDS. they CARE about each other. some have been besties for years others were hard and fast ride or dies but they all really care for one another

They would initially start out unmasking people in monster costumes, but there would definitely be an overarching plot that is defiantly supernatural. by midway through season two, the monsters of the week would be real more often than not, and the gang has to turn to more spooky ways of dealing with them

Aight so

FRED

This man HAS to be nice, and reasonably stupid. He was a himbo Blueprint and we must make sure he stays that way

I want to make him into theatre tech and stuff, which he uses to debunk the monsters and point out all the techniques in the 80s horror movies he likes to watch with the gang.

I'd also say he was a prolific camper and scoutgoer as a child, and intends to work as a camp counsellor once he graduates for a little while

because of this hes pretty much a survival expert and gets pretty intense whenever they find themselves in the woods.

while he is strange himself he still is a leader for the group, and plans a lot of their moves on cases.

He and Daphne start the show dating and they are madly in love with each other, and are the bestest of friends. Fred is the more puttogether in the group though, and regularly has to stop daphne from comitting crimes like breaking and entering or simply trying to beat the monster over the head with a bat

DAPHNE

This version of Daphen would just be a pretty unhinged girlboss. she is the part of the gang who is just itching for a fight half the time, so shes been designated team muscle.

Her family is extremely rich, and while they don't really like her pastimes of going out and solving mysteries, but those funds are the thing keeping the gang going, and funding their trips, as well as bail when they get caught investigating some abandoned house or something.

She is really into fashion, specifically 70s style clothes, and spends a lot of time at home making her own clothes and things for others.

alongside that she is really into journalism, so much so that she practically runs the school newsletter when in high school, and runs it through her brilliant people skills. she intends to go to university to do a media and communications degree.

but shes also regularly unhinged and the fisrt one in the gang who would get into a brawl with a monster if given the chance. shes like a black belt in karate at least, and can definitely ride a motorbike.

I think she would encourage Fred's traps in their cases but if she was left alone she would just use a crowbar to solve her problems.

VELMA

This Velma is a todal dork. she is such a nerd its funny, bun in a way ehre the audience laughs with her. let her talk endlessly about her academic interests and cut back to everyone else dumbfounded.

Also my version of Velma isn't mean in any way. While she can be dry, witty or packed with smart comebacks, she is rarely intentionally cruel.

She doesn't believe in the supernatural at the beginning of the series, but she desperately wants to believe in everything. Cryptids, monsters, aliens etc (She was one of the kids that cried when they made Pluto not a planet anymore)

because of her eagerness to investigate she is practically uncarable, and more interested in anything spooky than she is frightful, which could be used for some good gags, especially since she never realises that she is ever out of her element

Velma brings out the nerdier side of all her friends too. she gets Fred talking about traps and survival skills, Daphne on about fashion and law, and Shaggy talking about food and films.

SHAGGY & SCOOB

Scooby doo is Shaggy's assistance dog, and that's how he is allowed to go wherever the gang does.

I've got some lore ideas about how he talks and stuff, which is basically the same as mystery inc plus some inspiration from the Magnus Archives but I'll probably talk about it another time.

I was thinking it might be funny if he talked kinda like puppycat from Bee and Puppycat, but that's just a thought, all I'm going to say is that's not a normal dog.

Shaggy also comes from a wealthier family but nowhere near as rich as Daphne. His parents really tried to shelter him as a kid after something happened in his childhood (IDK what but it was spooky) and ever since he's craved the independence that he gets with the gang

He has been friends with everyone the longest. I assume he went to a summer camp with Fred when they were little, met Velma at some kind of convention and lived close to Daphne.

He has tons of random skills and knowledge about pretty much anything. hes a trivia god and there could e a running gag that he went to a bunch of summer camps too, but for weird and niche things. he's also the kind to binge read wikipedia articles at 3am

I think we would be really into films, specifically horror and pulp films from the 70s - 90s. He probably has an interesting relationship with horror, scaring easily but still doing it for the thrill.

He also implores that in their mysteries, pointing out a bunch of the technical clues with Fred. He probably really likes mystery solving because it gives him that reassurance and control when they finally unmask them. I'm sure he starts to crack a little once they start going up against real monsters.

Hes also a really good cook and makes great playlists.

[malyziomeczekk]

•Yawntu•

Mansk didn't know why he did this. It was a bad idea from the very beginning, so why did his body move before he could even think of the consequences? there was no reason for them to let him live. He wouldn't.

summary: recom!mansk x male!oc, mlm, blood, injuries, death, guns, killing, torture, manhandling, angst (with happy ending?)

word count: 2k

tawtute - sky person, human ; skxawng - idiot, moron

comments: hi cuties! I am new to this app so some things might look a bit messy, but I was sooo excited to finally publish this fic! I’m still not sure how long it’s going to take but it will be what it be lmao. Also i was a bit conflicted whether to change it to fem!reader but then I thought that my awesome oc would fit Mansky boy the best so I ended up with him. lmn if you'd like a blog strictly about him! However!! I have planned another fic with my fav recom (fem!r) so do not worry, my dudes! For now please enjoy this story, reblog if u can, and leave a feedback! I’d love to read your comments <33 ALSO english is not my first language so please be aware of that!

chapter 1 — tawtute

Next

“Five times when Mansk learned how to See and one time when he didn’t”

A soft whiff of smoke and herbs broke inside the hut easily, mixing with the smell of sweat and gunpowder still lingering to the unmoving figure on the sleeping mat. If it wasn't for slight movements and sudden twitches of this person's limbs, someone could think he was dead, motionless most of the time. 

He was barely conscious – drifting between reality and his own subconsciousness. He felt as if he was dreaming. Or maybe he was just dead? Maybe he was midway to meeting the soft embrace of death’s creepy, bony arms, welcoming him in the afterlife? Then, he remembered; he didn't believe in this bullshit. Heaven, hell, little flying angels with their buttcheeks bare, shining like Lyle’s bald head in the morning light. An airy huff escaped his slightly parted lips, bringing him back. It was the first thing he felt.

 He could move again. A rush flew in his veins, making him gasp for air as if he was drowning past a few minutes and yank his upper body upwards. His eyes forced open. His eyesight was blurry, not used to the brightness that hit him from all directions – slowly he was able to recognise more shapes, and differentiate items in the cottage. Absentmindedly, one of his hands searched for his glasses that have always stayed near him in case he needed to quickly put them on. But he couldn't find them. 

Then he felt the second thing. A rapid pain in his lower abdomen. Mansk glanced down just to be met with some type of cloth resembling a bandage in its texture, but looked like it was made from paper-thin strings of a plant. It was neatly wrapped around his waist – tight enough to keep whatever injury he had beneath closed and steady, but flexible enough to not make it uncomfortable to move. He could smell some kind of ointment under it. 

“Not bad” he grumbled under his wrinkled nose, still a bit grumpy because of the lack of his shades, but yet intrigued about the craft of this type of dressing. 

“I could have left you there to bleed out, ungrateful tawtute.”

He’d turned around so fast, for a second he thought he snapped his own neck. The pain from the haisty movement made him hiss, his tail thumped hard on the wooden floor. Mansk forced himself to not wince, scanning the hut with his sharp amber eyes. Then he saw it. A tall, blue silhouette of a man, his back facing the injured one. He was preparing something quietly in the far corner of the room and if it wasn't for him talking back, his presence would have stayed unknown. Only his tail was moving, swishing furiously, one side to another, causing a soft breeze to float his way, simultaneously letting him know that his host was not pleased having him there. 

Then it all hit him. The forest, the failed ambush, his injury. He was alone in enemy’s camp, without all his gear. And without his shades.

Private turned on his not injured side, arms tense from the effort to stay up and not curl up from the pain. He was almost on his knees, when a soft but firm hand pushed him back down with such ease, it made him angry. He wasn't aware he was this weak. A little spark willing to fight back – even a little, made him rest on his forearms, not giving in completely. The unknown person looked at him, head tilted slightly to the side, making a couple of braided strands to swing loosely around his sharp jaw. A spark of curiosity flickered through his bright eyes – as if he was amused by the pathetic attempt to fight back – but as fast as it appeared as fast it was gone, replaced by annoyed grimace.

“Sit.” The person in front demanded, pushing him even more into the mat, a bowl of greenish substance in the unoccupied hand. Recom unwillingly noted in his mind that the voice, despite dripping with irritation, was really pleasant to listen to. “You will open wounds, skxawng!”

A  hiss escaped Na’vi’s plump lips, bearing his double sets of canines threateningly. Mansk had decided it was in his best interest not to add more fuel to the fire, so without any more complaining, he laid back down, carefully watching every single move of the possible danger from the native’s direction. 

Na’vi looked like he was taken aback by the sudden change of character, but he quickly shaked his head, bringing the clutter of colorful beads in his hair to knock against each other in a calming clicking sound. He put down the pot with a smelly thingy at Mansk’s hip height, carefully moving his way towards the injured body. Waiting for any sign of resistance or discomfort, he searched recom’s face with his intense gaze, but when he didn't see any, gently began removing the bandages around his waist and torso. He was careful not to unnecessarily cause any more pain.

 A wave of cold air grazed his now uncovered skin, making Mansk shiver slightly. He hoped his doctor (at least he thought he could call him that, judging on the situation they both were currently in), didn't see that, but he was quickly proven wrong. Slender, cold fingers in a second retreated from his abdomen, perceptive eyes locked with his own. A silent conversation was exchanged, then the young Na’vi pressed carefully two fingers near the damaged skin, still thoroughly inspecting Mansk’s face.

“Hurt?”

“No.” He spat through clenched teeth in a clear discomfort.

The man above hummed silently, deciding to ignore the feeling that his patient was lying and picked up a clean white cloth. It was drenched in water, making it easier to wipe off the remaining muddy ointment from recom’s stomach. Mansk was calmly following every action made on his torso, having to appreciate the fast but diligent work of the man sitting next to him. 

When his eyes finally dared to leave Na’vi’s skillful hands alone, he peeked at the stinging wound on his lower build. Private wasn't even aware that he inhaled a big portion of air, not prepared to reveal not only one, but two holes in his abdomen. First one looked like a typical gun shot, but the second one was uneven, like someone had to forcefully yank an foreign object out of his gut, leaving some nasty scar behind. 

“This one stayed in” a slim finger once again found its way to his body, pointing at the bullet wound near his pancreas. The Na’vi seemed to be searching for the right words, before he spoke again. “Only one way, I took it out easily. But this…” His finger brushed the second wound almost imperceptibly, close to his hip. 

Mansk shivered again.

 “Went in through your back, out here. Neytiri’s arrow. You should thank Eywa for sparing your life.” He advised faintly.

Mansk’s eyebrows wrinkled, almost meeting in the middle of his forehead. He had not a single idea who this whole Eywa is – maybe that name was somewhere in his memory but apparently his brain had decided it's not important enough to pay attention to. And he honestly didn't give a shit. 

There were more important things – he tried to recall what had happened before he passed out, but it was hard to focus when those skilled palms roamed all around his chest and stomach, putting on the freshly prepared cold greenish ointment from the pot. The stench of mashed herbs and plants hit his nostrils with a rather undesirable aroma. It was an awful smell, but bearable.

 It was wiser not to complain while being in the clear disadvancement, he pointed to himself.

He knew he got hit in the crossfire, when everything had gone to hell. It was a total massacre. It happened so fast there was barely time to react. Walker got killed immediately. Shot straight in the head. He saw Zhang go down too for sure. 

Mansk groaned when the new bandage got pressed on the injuries. This time however, the young Na’vi didn't stop, it was like he wanted to do it as fast as he could, so the pain would go away faster. It was confusing. The compassion Na’vi feel for everything and anything was something beyond his imagination. 

They killed so many of them, destroyed their home, yet there stood one before him, overseeing his suffering with care, as painlessly as possible. 

But he didn't say anything. 

His whole body was aching, a heat was emitting from his wounds. It was a miracle he survived or rather – has been saved. He could have easily avoided them. One of them in particular. The bullet.

Mansk didn't know why he did this. It was a bad idea from the very beginning, so why did his body move before he could even think of the consequences? There was no reason for them to let him live, even after what he had done. He wouldn't.

As if the young man read his mind, he wiped his hands in another cloth neatly folded on his lap, getting rid of the rest of the healing paste he’d been using before. Mansk has noticed the irises of curiosity in those big eyes, the flicks of long, pointy ears, still alerted and on guard.

The Na’vi was preparing to ask questions that lingered at the back of his throat for so long. But he patiently waited till Mansk was taken care of, rested comfortably and focused on him fully. Then, he spoke.

“Why save Tuk?”

The soldier stayed quiet. It was a good goddamn question. Why did he do it? It wasn't like he suddenly felt sympathy towards captured kids.

“I don't know.” He declared, a sign of uncertainty hidden in his low voice. Young Na’vi seemed confused.

“You don't know? Why?”

Mansk huffed and shifted, feeling a bit uncomfortable under heavy glare.

“I told you I don't know. It's just… I had to. I felt like I had to.” It wasn't entirely true. It was a whole ass mess out there, bullets and arrows everywhere –  hard to actually see who was aiming at who.

It was difficult to move under constant fire, but something inside Recom’s head was screaming. It was like a fucking call from a God himself. His instincts had kicked in when he saw a tied up child, thrashing around with panic in huge golden eyes. His legs worked faster than he could think of anything else. He reached the girl in two big steps and dropped to his knees. Tuktirey stiffened for a second, but almost instantly hissed in his face, in a poor attempt of intimidation. Ignoring her tantrum, he took out a magnetic key and made contact with the handcuffs. They fell loose on the trampled grass. 

Everything slowed down for a couple of seconds – little Na’vi looked up at Mansk with glossy eyes, not sure of the intention of this big scary man. He pushed her encouragingly, sending her way a small but reassuring smirk. He made sure she was running away; almost out of the shooting range. 

Then he turned back to the battlefield and froze.

He couldn’t put a specific face on his teammate, but one of them was aiming at a small figure near an overthrown log, clueless of a creeping danger. 

And then he jumped. A loud shot. Silence. 

His body twitched, startling the man at his side. The native swiftly stood up with grace, giving him one last look of honey-like eyes. This time however there was no hostility behind them. They softened, with some kind of comprehension.

“Sleep. You need it to heal.”

But before the mysterious person could step outside of the hut, Mansk shocked himself anew.

“Hey! The girl… She alright?”

A soft, soothing smile spread on Na’vi’s lips.

“Don’t worry. She is well.”

Once again, Mansk was left alone, silence as his only companion. 

[jasminegazer]

Karai Storyline for Tottmnt

I did Venus and Jennika before her and feel just a tad guilty(check out Vees story here and Jenn’s story here). So here it is. Again these are just ideas that I thought would be cool. This also connects to my fanfic Difference Between The Appearance which is still midway through the process(Check that out here). I’m also going to give some quick background knowledge on the Foot and the Hamatos.

Background on Hamatos and Foot clans aka Shredders origin story: The Foot clan was founded by the Hamatos sworn protectors from ancient Japan made and trained to keep outraging demons and yokai from destroying all of humanity. Over centuries after the great battles of the past they had resolved to a peace waiting for when the day came to rise up and protect the world once again. At least that’s what it used to be. The last generation’s heirs to the clan’s power, Hamato Yoshi and his adopted little brother Oroku Saki, were the beginning of the great change. When their mother died, Yoshi gave up his power to Saki knowing that he himself was not ready for such responsibilities (the responsibilities and power that Saki had been dreaming of since the day he had joined the family). For the first 10 years things were fine. Saki lead the clan with Yoshi as his highest advisor and the man he trusted more than anyone else. He even fell in love and married a woman named Tang Shen. She was deeply devoted yet also independent and strong helping any all she could. She even joined the clan and trained to be able to fight by her love’s side. This love was the next crack in the Hamato legacy. Dispute between gangs in New York were brought to the clans attention. At the time(2013/2014) Saki and Shen had a child, Karai. The couple(and mainly Yoshi) decided to move the Hamato clan to New York since it had the most gang disputes that came in contact with the biggest hidden yokai city in the world: The Hidden City. On one of Tang Shens patrols a gang of unruly young mafia men decided that kidnapping her and Yoshi would probably give some great advantages in the criminal underworld attacked. Yoshi was there when she was shot and killed before what little crew was left after the attack. Saki however did not accept this. He got angry and blamed his brother for not telling the truth of what happened. He believed that there was no way that his Shen could have fallen to such sloppy work. He had heard the stories of mutants coming in and out of New Yorks news reports. Saki assumed that they were the ones that killed his Sakura flower. His rage only continued to fume when his own brother couldn’t be trusted and his 5 year old daughter stepped in front of his traitorous brother to protect him. Saki lashed out killing Yoshi but accidentally giving Karai fatal wounds. He went mad and rushed his daughter to the very illegal yet very effective treatment of TCRI. Using threats of death and money, Saki forced them to fix his daughter and unknowingly turn her into the first semi successful super soldier. Saki was never the same after that night the fun loving and impulsive man he was was twisted into a ruthless assassin bent on manipulating his story into a story of a hero avenging his family and killing every mutant until they became a thing of the cruel past. He became the Shredder. He spent the rest of his life turning the calm protectors of the Hamato Clan into the merciless fierce warriors of the Foot Clan. Saki convinced the clan, his daughter, and even himself that mutants were the blame for the deaths of Yoshi and Shen. Instead of secretive recruits for the gifted he authorized raids in which homes were set aflame and children were kidnapped or dragged from off the streets. The world seemed lost losing its only protectors who could fight such a threat. But legend says that every 10 generations a gift child in the Hamato bloodline would be given the ability to create spiritual chi stronger than any being known to both yokai and human kind. That chi was Yoshis gift passed from Tang Shen into the afterlife. They say that this gifted child can help guide one student through corruption when the world was twisted into a mess. That world was the world Karai and the Turtles lived in.

Karai: Though she doesn’t remember much Karai does share a few memories with her mother. Sadly she also shares memories of her uncle and what happened that night. The night she was turned into a half snake mutant girl living in the anti mutant beliefs of her father. Thankfully one of the scientists saw that the 5 year old girls father was clearly not going to be as merciful as last time if he found out his child was one of the things he hated with bloodlust. The half yokai scientist instructed Karai and supplied her with an elixir to keep the snake side effects of the super soldier serum at bay and giving off the illusion that the only successful thing it did was save her from death. After recovering from the attack, Karais father told her mutants had attacked the Foot and that her mother and her uncle died in the process. Enraged by the loss of her mother and uncle and afraid of what new changes had happened to her father that made him so scary now, she let him try to mold her into a fierce easily controlled cunning warrior. Though she believed in what she was raised in to some extent the feeling that what her father was thinking was off combined with her memory of what happened that night still panged at the back of her head until she did find out the whole truth. When she was 7 Jennika was taken into the Foot and Karai begged for her to become her new adopted sister. Though they both got the same treatment from the Shredders rage, Karai tried to get that anger to be shied away from her sister. Karai thought since she was older and had dealt with the Shredder her whole life only she, rebels, and mutants deserved to have to deal with his angry fits. Eventually the Foot finally got a good lead on mutants when they literally walked onto to the cities doorsteps without hesitation or consequence. After Superfly’s attack Karai was assigned to spy on the turtles and gather information so the Foot could successfully take them out without objection from the public. She went Eastman High and though she tried not to became friends with April she couldn’t resist the noisy girls likeliness. Karai actually became so close she almost got in trouble and tried to warn her friend not to dig deep into the Foot Clan and expose them knowing April would be abducted and assassinated. But her freind was stubborn. So stubborn in fact that Karai was coaxed into meeting the turtles. When she did Karai was shocked by how young and innocent they sounded, looked, and acted. Almost like her and Jennika. Later on when she was sent to attack and had the chance to kill both Donnie and Raph in one blow she softened. Their fear and Donnies weak attempt to protect a wounded Raph seemed too eerily similar to how she felt the night of her attack. After that she started to turn to the turtles side and coaxed Jennika into doing the same. But she was also running out of elixir because her supplier had died 2 years before. Eventually it caught up to her and she transformed into her full unruly snake soldier form. Thankfully the turtles and their sister, Venus, caught her and found a way to revert her to a midway between mutant and human. As Venus described it she was beautiful and perfect. Karai felt perfect and whole this way not too much exposed and nothing being bottled up. She felt free and decided to leave the foot. Moments after said revelation, Jennika called her and said she found the Shredders true plans. Midway through the call the Shredder took Jenn captive and forced Karai to meet at a rendezvous point to trade herself for Jennika’s life. Luckily the two survived now both mutants and allies alongside the turtles. Leo and April became her closest friends and Venus became her girlfriend. Karai was free to be her independent strong and even a little bit of a goof and delinquent self for the red of her life

Sooooooooooooo . . . . . . .

That’s my storyline for Karai in Tottmnt. Comment or just ask if you have a character you want me to do next in Tottmnt or if I should stop and these are bad. Cowabunga turtle fans 🐢🐍

[johnny-wins]

Initial Thoughts on Jojo's Bizarre Adventure part 7

For context as to the kind of JJBA fan I am, my favorite parts are:

#2

#6

#4

#1

#3

#5

What can I say, I like Joseph and dislike the parts that end with a fight the protagonist wins by sheer fiat.

Anyway! Part 7 seems great so far. I've read up to chapter 9, so if you don't want spoilers make sure you're caught up to there. Oh also there will be incidental mentions of details from previous parts but I'll try to keep it light since it seems part 7 is really disconnected from them.

So first I'm gonna give my serious thoughts and then I'm gonna attempt to transition smoothly into dumbass ramblings.

We start this part by getting introduced to a native american named Sandman who has been rejected by his community because he possesses books produced by white men, including the holy bible. His peers are enraged, calling him a traitor to his ancestors. He eventually explains to someone who cares for him that he has learned a superior running technique from the white men, and is going to use it to beat them at their own game and win enough money to buy the land that his community has called home for time out of mind, and therefore make it theirs within the structures of the ideology of those who would otherwise take it from them.

Shortly after, in the next issue, we're introduced to an African American man named Pocoloco who dreams of the easy life. He believes he's going to be unbelievably lucky in the next two months, and that no matter what he does things are going to go his way. Therefore, he's simply watching the clouds and spurning his work. Another African American man laboring in the fields argues this is foolish and shortsighted, that "People like me and your dead father... were freed from slavery 25 years ago. But life hasn't changed one bit. We will never live the easy live."

Even afterer than that, we're introduced to the protagonist of this part, Johnny Joestar. Due to some tragic events in his past, his career as a star horse jockey was ended when his legs were severely injured and he was left unable to walk, needing to use a wheelchair.

Everyone I've mentioned ends up making the decision to join a horse race across america, from the west coast to the east, with a fabulous cash prize. I mention all these people so I can say that this story is positioning itself to engage with the idea of the mythical american frontier: A place where anyone could strike it rich if they had skill (like Johnny), determination (like Soundman), and luck (like Pocoloco).

But very deliberately, the characters we're given to engage with are the kinds of people who were actually exploited or left out of that optimistic vision; Native Americans, African Americans, and handicapped people.

And that's neat! I don't know where it's going yet but just on its own it's a great bit of novelty to focus a story of this nature on people of this nature. Johnny frames this as a story of how he "Started to walk... Not in the physical sense, but in an adolescence to adulthood sort of way." So there's probably gonna be a lot of different arcs going on, but I hope this one about exploited people winning the psuedomeritocratic games their oppressors use to justify their imagined superiority has a good one.

Speaking of games, what the fuck are the rules of this race? They seem to have neglected "You need to be riding a horse," because someone brings a camel and someone else brings their 1890s-ass car.

I mean we do learn that you can't change horses midway through so "horse" has to appear in the rules somewhere, I can't believe they managed to "no rule sayin' a dog can't play basketball" their way into this one.

Also Pocoloco seems to have the kind of luck that makes weird short people fall in love with you if you're Dio, and godbless him for it. If this turns out to be his stand power or the fortune teller's stand power, cool, but honestly it's already established that some people are just born lucky in JJBA (Dio and Kira come to mind) so I don't even need that much.

Ah, also, I gotta wonder if Araki was watching Alien before he thought up this panel:

I mean, it's only the second time I've seen someone attack someone else by stuffing a wadded up periodical into their face.

Final note for this post: It seems the unifying traits of all Dios across the cosmos is that they much be Brittish, blonde, and weirdly preoccupied with the machinations of fate.

[loopy777]

Yeah thats kinda the problem with following genres. Because they are living, breathing things that change, follow trends, rebel against trends, deconstruct their mediums, reconstruct their mediums, and are vastly different from decade to decade.

Thats one of the reasons the movie superhero craze is effectively over at this point. Just like Westerns, the market became oversaturated, but it's also become almost impossible to just watch superhero movies just on the face of them anymore. There is never going to be another superhero movie that isnt going to be affected, in one way or another, and judge to the entire infinity saga.

Superhero movies will now always be judged whether they are trying to recapture the feel of the previous MCU, is it rebelling against that, is it doing its own thing? Is it trying to deconstruct the formula Marvel set up? Is it a throwback?

We'll see more cycles as time goes on, just like the superhero golden age gave way to the silly silver age, the bronze age followed after that trying to be more serious, the dark ages took that idea and ran it into the ground, the following age came as a response to that, which in turn ended at one more day, qfter which it all just eventually began to permanently fall apart as the years went on, and readers as a whole left the medium for other pastures.

And thats just one medium and genre, all built on top of what came before in one way or another.

But in regards to MHA, its actually an interesting study in how different people can take something completely different from the same medium, because not everyone has been following the same things.

For example, you yourself noted that you thought of MHA as a reconstruction of the superhero genre.

I however, can tell thats not quite the case... Oh it certainly does reconstruct the Superhero genre, that part is absolutely true... But MHA is pretty much a very thorough deconstruction of all the many, many shonen series that followed in One Piece and Naruto's wake, that tried to copy them.

I wont repeat what i said about how OP unfortunately destroyed the way shonen handled death and injuries, but thats hardly where it ends.

Bakugo was originally imagined as this nice guy rival... Because thats what the series that followed after One Piece and Naruto did. As such, the way he instead went the completely different direction was a direct respone/challenge that entire idea.

Izuku being nervous and shy, but also reliant on a massive intellect rather than just massive physical combat talent was also a direct response to the countless stupid but confident shonen heroes that Dragon ball began, One Piece perfected, and so many other series has just produced bland, and very bad leads trying to mimic what Oda and Toriyama did.

Inko's entire existence and the fact she's still a part of her son's life is pretty much alien to the way the vast, vast majority of shonen handles parents, especially female parents by for all intents and purposes not being part of their kids lives, or more commonly just dead.

The mentor All Might being a proactive and active part of the story, and not dying midway through is again, pretty much the opposite of how shonen series does things. Killing off the obi-van/big good, is so standard in shonen that even One Piece, champion of never killing anyone, did it. And what few series does not, eventually just makes them completely useless to the narrative, as it's clear they never had any plans for how to handle said character surviving.

World building, and in universe politics, and how the setting worked is brought up front and explained from day one, and having characters lives being directly affected by it, is a response to series such as One Piece, Fairy Tail, and many others that gives the premise, but takes a long time before it really explains the powers that rule the world, in favor of character development.

The tournament arc ultimately ended up being completely meaningless in terms of rewards, and the hero didn't even win it, nor tie fighting his big rival. Needless to say, that's not how shonen lately tends to do it.

I could go on, but you get the gist. A LOT of how MHA is built is deliberately because HORI structured it that way, having learned from his orevious works, Barrage and Oumagadoki zoo. Both were completely bog standard shonen manga that while not bad, didn't really manage to attain actual success.

Zoo was a more episodic comedy manga with a supernatural element, that changed over to being a battle manga when that didn't pan out, then got canceled. Meanwhile, Barrage was a far, far more competently put together battle manga, that took all the tropes One Piece had popularized and used them to tell a story... That completely flopped, because while it was genuinely good, there wasn't much that made it stand out amongst the crowd of other shonen.

And so, when crafting MHA he did so with the mind set of telling a good story, while also deconstructing and then reconstructing so many of the shonen tropes that was popular in shonen as MHA was released.

Izuku was a genuinely wimpy, but kindhearted kid who wanted to be the most inspiring hero in the world, not the worlds strongest "insert whatever profession here" in a genre where powerful, but idiotic, and supremely ambitious anti-heroes like luffy that though had a good heart, was not exactly a traditional hero, reigned supreme, that was genuinely fresh, and had solid foundations to built a good character off of.

All Might was the great power of his world, but unlike One Piece's Whitebeard, the shadowy and in the background strongest pirate in the world, who's role was effectively to have the entire political status quo of the world disintegrate after he died, All Might's role was to be the Main characters mentor and friend who gave him advice, wasn't alway right, and would go on to lose the power that defined him and his world. Again, a subversion, but one with well planned foundations.

The world of Heroes is explained in very huge detaol from day one, unlike One piece and fairy tail, and so many others, including Barrage, because Hori knew from personal experience that trying to take your time on explaining the world could very, very easily backfire if the readers didnt get invested in it from day one.

All of this came together to create a very good deconstruction and reconstruction of the entire Shonen genre, which as you pointed out, also worked great as a reconstruction of a lot of the aspects that the superhero genre that Hori decided to set his world in, had forgotten or left behind for such nonsense as deals with the devil, multiverses, massive crossovers, abandoning of true heroics, and so on.

Its also telling that the one place where hori decided to just follow the standard Shonen formula of the day, Izuku relationship with his love interest Uraraka, is far and away the most boring part of the entire series.

Overall though, it managed to hit the homerun that is the best of two worlds. It managed to hit the world wide appeal that so many modern series sacrifices everything to appeal to just by being a good story, and it managed to appeal to japanese manga fans who were hungry for something else that was not just following in One Piece's or Naruto's footsteps.

The huge backlash the arcs post the war arc has gotten, is very much a further response to that, as the series that once prided itself on NOT playing all the shonen tropes straight, began to do exactly that, and is now in the middle of a drawn out, slog of a final that so, so, so many other shonen series had fallen victim to over the years.

Heh, don't tell my brother that the Deku/Uraraka romance is the most boring part. It's one of his favorite parts. He think it's criminal what an Uraraka figma is going for on the secondary market.

You have a good analysis of the ways MHA builds on the shonen genre, and I didn't mean to imply that it was exclusively drawing from superhero genre. As you note, there's a good fusion going on there, and I think that speaks to a larger point about genre in general- it can be strengthened by blending it with other genres, or at least lessons learned from other genres.

I think it's notable how controversial you've revealed to me the final battle to be, given its context in the shonen genre, and there's no specific equivalent in the superhero genre for me to draw on as an example. Superhero comics don't end- at least not outside AU graphic novels, and those largely all draw on The Dark Knight Returns for their formula, so they're more like a dark epilogue to superhero's story rather than a culmination. Superheroes can have final confrontations with an enemy or two in movie adaptations, but there's no "Final Battle of the Justice League" where all their members fight all their villains. (The closest thing I know of is Kingdom Come, but again, that draws heavily from The Dark Knight Returns, and so we have the JL coming out of retirement in a post-modern world to make a statement about 90s comics.)

The only comic I can think that really tries to be a definitive ending for a superhero is 'Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?' for the Silver Age Superman. And, because it's Alan Moore, almost the entire cast dies. So that's not much help to MHA. And it struggles under the burden of those Silver Age Superman comics not having an ongoing story or links between its villains. As we all know, manga is a very different animal in terms of structure than Western comics because of being able to tell a single story with a singular creative vision, no matter how drawn out it may be.

Anyway, I guess I'm saying I hope MHA provides some lessons to the next work that tries to bridge Eastern and Western comics, on both sides of the Pacific.

[madmaddie351]

Reflecting on my Past Works

While I am proud of many of my works, there are some works that I find as turning points in my writing. I don’t see them as what some might say are “mistakes”, just a steppingstone in my style of writing. Some works of mine occasionally go beyond what I am able to write, leading to their unfortunate ends. And while it is sad and unfortunate that some ideas don’t flourish or turn out the way I hoped, that doesn’t mean they are bad. They are the beginning of my writing journey and certainly won’t be dead in my eyes. They are reflections of what I can do and what I can become! Here are some works that I reflect on and why they ended up in the position they were in:

+ Dragon Age: The Trespasser Series

Back when I was into heavily into the Dragon Age fandom, I wanted to write a story about a woman who would be romanced to Varric Tethras, a mage whose magic was basically nature itself and a voice that sung stories unheard. I got all the way until midway through the second installment of the series and I unfortunately have not gone back. While I had a story, from beginning to end, I found it difficult to write it in a more organized form, leading to a jumble that was more chaotic than a writer's block. It has not been updated since and I have the hopes that once Dragon Age Dreadwolf came out, I can continue the series with renewed motivation. But that is uncertain as of right now. The series now sits in silence, waiting to be brought back to life.

+ RDR2: The Dandelion

My first red dead redemption story, that began and ended within a year. This story was of a mute girl who was adopted by Arthur Morgan before the Blackwater robbery. It was my first time writing a feral child story and, in my opinion, I did rather well on it. It didn't garner as many hits as my future stories, but it was my first completed story on AO3 and I am still proud of it. It was also one of the first fanfics where I believed that I integrated my OC into the story so well that she may as well have been in RDR2 without taking away Arthur's story. It was an attempt to practice such a feat that it would give me inspiration to write more OC stories. While it had the foreshadowing of a sequel, the sequel was never published due to how happy I was with how the initial story ended. It ended on a note that already told of what happens in the sequel while also not giving away any potential plot or return. This was one of the rare times that I decided that I was happy with how a story ended before shelving it into the AO3 library.

+ Gears of War: Twin Dragons Series

Gears of War is a series I fell in love with upon being allowed to play the gore and shooter action. And from playing the latest games gave me inspiration for a series that is still ongoing! I did have a long hiatus on the third installment of the series, but I am now back into the series with news of potential Gears of War games this year. While I love the series and have focused on keeping it going, there was one thing that I didn't do well compared to The Dandelion. And that was the OC integration. Even now, I feel that my OC has taken the story away from the main characters from the games, while also feeling that I was giving my OC the spotlight because most of it was through her perspective. There are some points in my writing of this series that I feel that my OC was taking too much of the spotlight, but I have yet to change this, in my opinion. Though Marcus has been given more of the spotlight throughout the story. It is still my favorite series that I continue to work on, one that I hope to bloom into its own story with the 25-year-gap given in the canon story!

+ Marvel's Fullmetal Avenger

Not going to lie, this series would have been long if I hadn't been so impatient with the pacing of the story. In a way, I should have made this series into a short as I have been moving towards shorts to avoid cramping my brain too much with all the other storylines I have. This was the one series that I genuinely regret, but not as in that it shouldn't have existed. It was that it was too late by the time I was writing it. I was trying to cram 10 years' worth of Marvel movies into a small series and this ended up being my downfall for the entirety of the series. The pacing is all wrong from production to publishing and it did bother me for a time that I wasn't able to finish. By the time I made the third installment, it basically became a jumble, worse than that of the Trespasser series. Ultimately, I decided that it wasn't worth continuing, deleting the third installment and leaving the first two, as it could pass for an origin story. Now, it is up to the reader to think of what could be.

+ Till Death Do Us Part

This last work I am reflecting on was my first long work (136k+ words). There was a whole series with it by the time I was in the process of writing the first story. But while at the time there was a lot of motivation, in truth it was more of a mask to my grief. By the time I started writing this fanfic on Wattpad in 2017, I was still dealing with a death in the family, a special person that influenced me to work hard and that I looked up to. They got a place in the story and, looking back, this fanfic was more of a grief write than an actual inspiration. It helped me through the years in dealing with the grief, which reading it now showed my grief in the small ways, integrating my childhood, grief, and how my OC reflected my view of the world. I didn't continue the series after the first story, though on Wattpad there was a second installment that was deleted. And as much as I should feel bad for not continuing the series, I find myself seeing it as an art piece of Vincent van Gogh. A grief journey that was masked as a fanfic and a show of my strength to overcome challenges and hardships.

Anyways, these are just reflections as I write more and grow as a writer. It clears my mind when I find myself doubting my capabilities, reflecting on the challenges I faced before and how I overcame them. While I am not (and never will be) the perfect writer, it is always good to reflect when in doubt and find ways to improve. And this doesn't pertain to just writers. Reflecting on past works goes for anyone: artists, actors, celebrities, hobbyists, builders, teachers, etc.

Sorry for the long post! If you made it to the end, thank you and I wish you well in your future endeavors and projects!

[daughter-of-inklings]

word count: 832 excerpt: Lost Princess || Ch. 2 - "To Ruin a Kingdom"

“Valeria, she’s only a few months old.”

“She’ll get bigger, and grow.”

“… Yes? I would hope so? As I would imagine that most living things created by the gods under these stars do?” 

“That’s not what I mean and you know so. The Seers have started making prophecies and rhymes about the downfall of our kingdom, Thalion-”

“And since when did you start believing in them, General? How long has it been since Frode or our Mother blessed them with the gift of sight?’ He shook his head, rocking the baby in his arms, “My mothers saw the possibilities of the future too, you knew Eonel’s episodes better than us. And even when the visions weren’t pleasant, she never let them deter her from what she or Syanna or Marcuil thought was right to do.”

“You’re making a grave mistake, Thalion, think about it logically. Do you think you can earnestly devote as much time to caring for this child as to your crown? Your schedule is already brimmed with meetings and treaty councils to keep an unstable peace with several other kingdoms, not to mention your own appointments and running your own kingdom, listening to your citizens’ audiences, and whatever seems to be going on between your wife and Aeriel. Where would you find the time to raise another child, assuming we might ignore all that entails?”

“She seems content to be on my person, she’s not moved from this sling the entire day. I.. admit, it’ll be a drastic change from my current lifestyle, but I was already committed to the idea with the arrival of my son. Elanoriel being here only advances the inevitable, or would you have had me abandon my son as well?”

“Your son would have nannies to wean him,” she rose to her feet. “Or at the very least, his birth mother to tend to him. What does this baby have besides a world of troubles ahead of herself?”

“A loving home with her birth father?”

“You can’t in earnest believe you sired this child, much less with a god, simply because of a letter any literate creature could have forged. The gods have no need of us, Thalion, they’ve never had need of us. We’re here to amuse them, mark their never ending lives with a semblance of time’s passing, entertain them in the afterlife by giving them a purpose. We don’t matter to them, there’s no need.”

“That’s a bit cynical, isn’t it?” he frowned. He lowered the baby girl into sling, gently tucking her wings in behind her so that they wouldn’t bend out of form. Elanoriel questioned a coo up at him, grabbing his index finger with the whole of her hand. She grasped it and tugged, giggling and babbling up at the smile he gave her. 

“How can you say we mean nothing to the gods when we were made in their image? Made to feel as they do? How can you look at a baby’s smile, or a new day’s dawn, or the flowers at bloom, and not be moved by the experience when the gods made all the world’s comforts and joys for our sake?” 

“If the gods considered us equals, if at all, we would never know death. We wouldn’t know sickness, or sadness, or any ill that plagues mortal kind but evades them. We would live as they do, not be kept as their guard dogs outside bliss’s gate.” 

Thalion hung his head and sighed, “All creatures in the worlds die, Val, even the gods. To live forever without rest would be misery, and there’s no greater sadness in the universe than being left alone.” He looked to the child in his arms, smiling softly as she nibbled on him as if on a toy, “We were created by the Earth Mother to protect her children, born out of her love for them and the desire to keep them safe. We guard the gods not out of being duty bound, but out of our devotion and love for them.”

“A mutt dressed in silk is still a mutt, no matter how its master calls it.” She rose to her feet, sneering down her nose at him. She stopped midway through turning from him and looked to the child, narrowing her eyes at it as it met her gaze. Those damn silver eyes. 

“It matters little how you preach to them, how much you pray, if the gods are unwilling to hear. They abandoned us, left us here, without a second thought, to die and to suffer mortal vices. We owe them nothing— not our loyalty, our time, or our lives. Your actions don’t belong to just you, you are the kingdom in a man. I don’t particularly care how you do it, if you give it away or if you drown it— rid us of that thing before we all meet a poor dog’s death for your zealotry.” 

And she was gone without another word.

[earlgreymon]

un-dok(a)i

👟 taichi + sora // [day 2] sports day (relationship) - for @digiweek 2022 the prompt for this day is sports day, and one of the subprompts is to tell about a (favourite) relationship. it happened (i swear this is all a coincidence) that the fic i planned last year for the prompt sport on taiora week was about them doing undokai, so i tried to write it now after postponing for almost a year lol. at the end of the day, taiora will always be my otp no matter what. let's assume this was after tri. when they were in their last year of high school. also, the idea was from a shoujo titled ui x kon.

___

Although her birthday was in spring, there were many things that got her more excited about autumn. The heat slowed down into a warmer atmosphere. The leaves turned to her favourite colour. The seasonal chestnut cake from the local bakery.

Also, undokai.

Indeed it made her sound like a fifth-grader when in fact she was already in her final year of high school—but that was why it became more important. This would be her last sports day ever before graduating. While her choice of college had some good sports clubs for its students, there was no guarantee if she could ever experience the same feeling of working together with the whole class to be the school's champion.

The said thought might be a one-sided opinion, though, because she was blessed with athleticism, while some students might not and dreaded the event. Well. Lucky for those who were her classmate, then, because she volunteered to participate in as many games as she could.

Sora was not the only one; their class also happened to have Taichi—former captain of the football club, the MVP of last year’s competition, consistently at the top of the rank when it came to PE subject. They were the powerhouse of their homeroom, the Captain America and the Iron Man of their own Avengers. Unless there was a sports prodigy among the first years, it was almost guaranteed that victory would lay in their hands.

And, oh—also, unless Mimi reinvigorated the undokai in a very Meems-way. She was on the committee this year after getting frustrated with the way things worked previously, which was—as quoted—profoundly deadening.

As predicted, many antics were spotted during the event, but it also became a mirthful entertainment for the entire school. Like how the baton for the relay changed into a weird-shaped headpiece, so you might witness someone fleeing with a rice paddy hat or even a boy running with a wedding veil. The tug of war was also conducted on the edge of their swimming pools, which would lead the losers to fall and soak. The most hilarious one was probably the cheerleading battles because you could watch the squads getting pranked by the committee because they changed the music midway and they had to improvise. The fact that most classes sent their heartthrobs (like Yamato, of course) made it better because their flawless image suddenly turned into something memeable.

By noon, Sora had finished all the games she signed up for. She didn’t get first place in every sport but obtained enough points to push her class to the top of the leaderboard. Each time she passed her classmates, they would shower her with either a cheer, a thank, or a compliment; yet the only thing she needed right now was a quiet rest. And for that reason, she sat down under the tree—the one that still had its leaves—sitting with her legs stretched out. There was a peace in watching the crowds from afar, the comfort of being by herself in the middle of all the motions.

That was only until Taichi found her.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. It was funny how she was so immersed in her distanced observation but barely aware of her own surrounding because his sudden voice almost made her jump.

“Nothing,” she answered. “Just… you know. Resting. Witnessing the youth pass by in front of me.”

“Gee, Sora, you really need to stop speaking like a grandma.”

“Do you think a grandma can run a lap in under thirteen seconds while keeping a sombrero on her head?”

“Touché. Congratulations, by the way.”

But instead, she was the one who handed him the trophy in the form of a bottle of cold water. “Sit down. You must be tired.”

“Nah, thanks. I’m cool,” he only welcomed the bottle, drinking while standing still with one hand on his waist. His towering figure was looming over her, and it finally dawned on her how much her best friend had evolved. Sora still remembered the day when they used to walk home together during sunset after football practices. There was one period around the first grade of elementary when she often bragged about how her shadow looked longer because she was taller. He would say no, but they both knew that it was his hair that made the difference seem less obvious. Cursing at how puberty worked, he then swore that one day he would get taller than her to the point he could reach the top of the goalpost without jumping.

And now he did. He didn’t even have to tiptoe to be able to grasp the goalpost.

Unknowingly, she muttered in a daze, “You’ve grown up, Taichi.”

He stopped and put the cap back on, peering at her through his shoulder only to chuckle. “Seriously. Stop acting like an old lady.” Twisting the now-empty bottle, his attention then turned to the incoming announcement from the main field. The doki-doki scavenger hunt would happen in a few minutes, and it was a cue for Taichi to go as one of the participants. “Alright, onto the final battle!”

“You think you’re going to finish first this time?” Sora asked; her tone was far from underestimating him. After all, Taichi had a bad history with scavenger hunts. In his first year, he joined the competition and wasn’t able to solve the required riddle. It annoyed him so much that he signed up again the following year, and while he managed to understand the puzzle, it took him some time, so he wasn’t quick enough to win. This was his last attempt to satisfy his competitiveness in this particular game.

“We’ll see if Mimi really holds onto her words when she says ‘oh I’m gonna make it so easy for that big head of yours’ or it’s her mouth that’s actually big,” Taichi scorned, actually quoting Mimi’s mockery with a high pitch. “I’m not as smart as Koushiro when it comes to the riddle, but man, these feet are ready to run.”

“Well… it’s Mimi. Even if it’s easy, I’m sure she’ll still find a way to make it…” agitating? “—memorable. I wonder what they mean with ‘doki-doki’ though.”

“Jumpscares, I bet. Yamato must be grateful he’s in the cheering squad.”

Taichi then bid her goodbye, and Sora wished him good luck in return. From her seat, she could watch the participants gathered in the middle of the field, standing as someone from the committee explained the rules. Once they did, the whistle howled and the game started. Everyone immediately rushed to pick up the instruction card, but instead of scrambling around, they somehow remained in the position still. Did the committee—or Mimi—choose to make it harder instead?

Like the other participants, Taichi also had not yet departed. However, instead of looking confused, he seemed… hesitant. And somehow, when he lifted his head, the first thing he looked at was her direction.

(And despite the distance, why did it feel like his gaze was going straight into her eyes?)

Her assumption was proven valid because the next thing he did was run to her. “I need to carry you to the rooftop.”

“What—”

“Come on, Sora! There’s no time!”

His fervent tone startled her to the point that her body voluntarily stood up. She was waiting for Taichi to turn around, but instead of his back, Taichi swooped Sora into his arms before running with all his might. He was so fast that Sora had to circle her hands around his shoulder because she was afraid of falling down, yet the arms that hold her felt so strong. It was as if she was a princess being rescued from the wrath of an evil ogre.

They received a loud cheer every time they passed a crowd on their way, except Sora wasn’t sure if they were cheering for their victory. It didn’t seem like the red on Taichi’s ear was caused by the thrill either.

They crossed the field, stormed through the corridors, and climbed through the stairs. Mimi was waiting on the rooftop along with some committees, and her grin was too mischievous to be missed. The other competitors were only to be seen after Taichi put Sora down, which should mean that they were the first to arrive. Even so, it became her least priority now that she realised all the participants come in pairs of; one of them she recognised as the couple from Yamato’s class.

“Everyone’s here already! Congratulations on finishing the doki-doki scavenger hunt!” Mimi’s voice echoed through the mic. “Now… anyone wants to reveal what was written in your riddle card?”

But she didn’t even give the opportunity for the participants to answer because she then grabbed a card as if she didn’t remember each and every single word on it. Mimi cleared her throat, and her voice was notably loud when she announced the big reveal.

“Go to the rooftop while bridal-carry someone you can really see as your potential bride in the future!”

And all of sudden, Sora could hear her heart beat louder than Mimi’s voice just now—doki, doki, doki, doki.

Taichi squatted down and laughed in defeat despite winning first place. His entire face was now flushed. “I’m so going to kill Mimi after this….”

[chalabrun]

Part of the reason both Sakura and Tsunade are underrated by the fandom is tied to the despise shounen fanboys have towards healers. They only care about flashy powers and explosions and ignore healing because they find it "boring". However, I do think Kishimoto wasted a lot opportunities of using medical ninjutsu in battles. Medical ninjutsu can be effortless deadly, as Kabuto shown many times. Also, the immense network healing performed by both Sakura and Tsunade through Katsuyu, if they change the healing aspects of the chakra, they can turn a massive amount healing into a dreadful weapon in large scale.

Medical ninjutsu could've make interesting additions to elemental ninjutsu(water style) and even genjutsu, since it's all about using chakra control to control another person's body.

Any thoughts or headcanons? ❤️

Yes, yes, yes!

Dude, you’re so speaking my language. So, I’m going to go through all of this because I actually have a l o t of ideas I’ve come up with for my own but I want to go through this piece by piece because there’s a lot more that can be done with not just medical ninjutsu, but the chakra control needed to perform it that’s also needed for genjutsu and chakra-enhanced strength (and the Byakugo) that go hand-in-hand. 

Biomedical knowledge: Though not ninjutsu in and of itself, the knowledge a med-nin has to learn grants exhaustive knowledge of the human body that Sakura is quite gifted at. Yes, it’s obviously very much needed for healing, however... such knowledge could be used to a combat med-nin’s advantage like pressure points used offensively, quickly identifying weak points on an attacker’s body, and on. It’s actually called Kyusho in martial arts, so it could be a totally valid thing to learn and use offensively!

Offensive agents: Alright, clumsy wording, but with this I mean tactics such as poisons and antidotes, sleeping agents, tranquilizers, and so on. We all know that Sakura surpassed Tsunade in this area, but it’s something massively overlooked and could’ve been used much, much more often--especially since I highly doubt Sakura and Tsunade just punch their way out of everything. With these, Sakura and Tsunade could’ve (and should’ve!) been highly talented at covert missions. After all, what med-nin wouldn’t be superb as a spy? Nono Yakushi and Kabuto were renowned as spies in canon, so why not Tsunade and Sakura? Paired with their legendary repertoire with poisons, antidotes, tranquillizers, and more, I have no doubt they could’ve been even better.

Genjutsu-types: Now, this is more a Sakura-thing than Tsunade (since I don’t remember any instances of Tsunade being tied with genjutsu prowess), but aside from Sakura’s peerless and canon ability to identify and nullify genjutsu being used on her to the point of immunity, there’s a concept I like exploring with her as a “genjutsu-type”, a headcanoned classification up with others like Med-nin, Sensor-type, etc. This brilliant meta explores some possibilities, but two I like to add are Inner Sakura as a Yin Release-construct capable of breaking mind control and genjutsu (aside from its game-based abilities to manifest as a physical cloneto cast genjutsu, be used in taijutsu, etc.) as well as actually casting genjutsu.    - Manipulating chakra: This is another headcanoned ability I have comes from this same meta and it’s how a genjutsu user can manipulate chakra flow to cast illusions. Some uses I’ve come up with are the ability to prevent chakra from being molded to nullify ninjutsu from being casted, as well as a future expansion where a Genjutsu-type can manipulate chakra in the body to cause mayhem (like inducing a heart attack, stunting breathing, messing with the brain on a biochemical level, etc.) without ever making physical contact with the victim. As genjutsu demands manipulating yourself or another’s chakra flow to cast or break it to begin with, a midway point could mean a genjutsu-type like Sakura could pair it with her extensive medical knowledge and cause some real damage. 

Deadly medical ninjutsu: As we all know, Sakura has utilized medical ninjutsu offensively when she paired it with CES to stunt Kido’s healing factor in Sakura Hiden. However, going on what you said here, I have some more uses in mind: The Immense Network Healing is used to channel chakra to those connected to Katsuyu’s clones, but never specified that it can circulate only healing chakra, now does it? And, like you said, healing chakra can be deadly if too much if flooded into the body, the recipient can become comatose.    - Chakra scalpel: As you state, Chakra Scalpels can absolutely be used to deadly effect offensively, and with Tsunade and Sakura’s level of chakra control, who’s to say that they couldn’t master it even further.   - Deadly Illness Extraction Technique: Now, while we’re aware that this technique is used to both diagnose and extract poisons, what if it did something else? Or the opposite? Like spreading a poison or tranquilizer in someone’s body to hasten the effects; like, a tranquilizer that takes minutes to take effect could only need a few seconds if the user is skilled enough. Or, finding weaknesses in the body to exploit?     - Healing Power Alteration Technique: Now, while this technique has only been named, my own headcanon is that it’s used to cause cell death. Benignly, this can kill off cancerous cells, stop the spread of infection, necrosis so that it can’t spread further, etc. Offensively, with an increased amount of chakra can cause flash mummification of whole limbs to an entire person in just seconds. 

Chakra control & Chakra-enhanced strength: Now, while this is entirely headcanon, we all know that in Sakura Hiden, she combined increased chakra control to break herself from restraints, flood chakra in areas to withstand harsh blows, halt and nullify elemental ninjutsu, and more. By adulthood, this evolved into the creation of a literal chakra radar. However, there’s even more areas that require advanced chakra control for the transformation and modification of techniques I’ve come up with that combine with these abilities.    - Shape Transformation: An advanced form of chakra control that involves controlling the form, movement, and potency of one's chakra, determining the size, range, and purpose of a technique. Now, factoring this in with CES, what if Sakura could alter the shape of her blows? Instead of just unleashing bursts of chakra to decimate or pulverize, what if she shaped it into blades or long releases of chakra to impale with? I have more here in a body of techniques I created.    - Nature Transformation: This one, of course, is the second part of ninjutsu modification I combine with CES in my headcanon wherein Sakura channels Earth, Fire, or Lightning Releases into her blows to increase how devastating they can become. Fire Release to superheat the chakra Sakura expels to the point that it can catch fire and scorch its targets. Earth Release to shape and conduct how CES is performed, like creating sinkholes, deliberately shaped fissures, impact depth and radius, and so on. Lightning Release (that she has in the games) paired with Shape Transformation to increase the cutting power of her blows.    - Chakra flow: A nature transformation type that pairs with the former, as stated above, chakra flow can be used to enhance the properties of weapons... however, they can also be augmented with the user’s body. As Sakura already has the ability to channel chakra throughout her body, paired with elemental ninjutsu could enhance how she fights. Like the Raikage���s Lightning Mode, I imagine a watered down version where Sakura uses it to stimulate her nervous system to drastically increase her reaction time, speed, and defensive power. Like Kakuzu’s Earth Spear, Earth Release flowed throughout her body can bolster her defense and increase the potency of her physical attacks. Lastly, Water Release can boost her physical defense like armor. (More on these two can be found here!)

Tenketsu control: While it’s stated that only the Hyuga naturally are able to innately release chakra from any tenketsu on their body, why not Sakura who’s stated to be able to circulate chakra anywhere through her body? After all, given the fact that Sakura has surpassed Tsunade in ability as a med-nin, it’s not beyond the possibility of belief that she could memorize the location of her body’s tenketsu and learn how to manipulate chakra accordingly.

Body seals: What we come to understand of seals like the Byakugo are that they can store chakra on a point on the body. Now, in the realm of medical ninjutsu, Sakura has also proved capable of using fuinjutsu to create traps that can activate via a seal on the body. But, in regards to your ideas, what if Sakura could do other things like create body seals that could release jutsu? Genjutsu, poisons/tranquilizers, triggers to activate traps, and so on.    - Senjutsu & seals: Now, this is another original idea of mine, but what about a seal that could store sage chakra to activate Sage Mode? Something that’s been established is that a Byakugo user can utilize the chakra stored without fully releasing the seal. My thinking is that Sakura can store sage chakra in a seal, but create a feedback loop with the Byakugo to constantly knead it with normal chakra while releasing minute amounts through her tenketsu to keep her from turning to stone? Given the fact that Sakura innovated the Byakugo storage process to divert some chakra back into her own stores, this could be something well within the realm of possibility. 

Body augmentations: Another possibility is the notion that Sakura could feasibly experiment on herself or others to enhance her prowess. The most visible times we see this in the manga is when Kabuto experimented on both Madara and himself to give them both a significant boost in power based on Kabuto’s esteemed medical knowledge and what was done with Orochimaru. Both were so significant that Madara was nearly unbeatable and Kabuto was able to attain Snake Sage Mode. Imagine what someone with Sakura’s experience could do?

In any case, thank for the ask and I hope these are to your liking! All I ask is you give me credit if you use these, thank you.~

[9tzuyu]

dark red

request: hii i’m not sure if you’re accepting requests rn,,, if you aren’t i’m sorry please ignore this djfjdhd could you write a nat x reader based off the song dark red by steve lacy — specifically the lines “don’t you give me up / please don’t give up / only you, my girl / only you, babe” — kind of like the tiktok trend going on right now

note: anon im so sorry i really hope this was okay. i can try and rewrite it if you want though 😭 i kinda hate it but i hope its good enough for you :[

aLSO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE.

i proofread this as quick as i could so all mistakes are mine.

warnings: none, a little angsty, terrible writing.

🏷: @c-is-writing @wandaromanova @nermalina

. . .

everyone knew natasha to be a very self-assured woman. she knew everything about herself; what she liked and what she didn’t like, who she tolerated and who she trusted. her history with just about everyone she’s close with dates back years, sometimes decades. it was very rare that she met someone knew whom she gave her complete trust to. 

meeting you caught her by surprise, something that doesn’t happen to natasha very often. your presence was refreshing, authentic, new. it was the very thing natasha didn’t know she needed in her life.

natasha watched your every little movement any time you were around. you intrigued her, held her attention by the very strand of your hair. something about you was special and she couldn’t seem to get enough.

so she allowed herself to have you, to enjoy you, to be with you. over a year into the friendship, you suggested the idea of becoming something more than just platonic. you wanted a relationship with the woman.

natasha accepted your proposal with a bright smile and a gentle kiss on the lips. she’d been more than relieved you asked her because the false belief that she was undeserving trampled any courage she had. 

it was hard to know when something was truly bothering natasha, but sometimes you were able to see the light dull in her eyes, or the uncontrollable fidgeting she’d accidentally let slip. 

which is exactly what you were dealing with now. for the past few months you’d begun to notice a slight change in natasha’s demeanor. little by little she began to distance herself in ways she knew would be looked over, at least for a short amount of time. 

natasha started out small. rather than having her face meet yours, she’d turn her back against your front while you slept. she couldn’t bear to look at someone who deserved so much better than what she could ever offer. 

you meant the entire world to natasha, she would quite literally do anything to protect you. that being said, natasha felt the need to protect you from her. 

a couple of weeks after her initial push back, you noticed the way she’d flinch when you tried to hold her. it was almost invisible, but you knew natasha more intimately than anyone else ever had, which made it easier to recognize all the small things everyone else missed.

then you caught onto the fact that she started leaving the bed early in the morning, as if she was promising herself not to see you. natasha also started to work more. longer hours, nights she had to be away, and minimal effort to keep in touch kickstarted the fighting. 

just as everything else did, it started off on a smaller scale. you’d send texts clearly stating how upset you were by her choice of actions. natasha would always have some stupid excuse on hand as a response though.

things began to escalate when natasha willingly booked her days off into cheap motels that reeked of cigarettes. the redhead would often find herself sitting on the floor beside her bed, breath saturated in store-bought vodka. the russian felt cheap and disposable, just as she did when she was a kid being used by the hands of a man with no morals.

when natasha chose to go home she’d return with her hair knotted, tied loosely in a bun with an apology already made.

this went on for nearly two months before you’d finally decided enough was enough. you’d given her time, space, everything you thought might help, but she never made any attempt to reciprocate your efforts. 

so now you stood leaning against the wall across the living room, natasha anxiously settled on the couch directly in your line of view. your focus was solely on the spy. and despite her best efforts at trying to hide it, you could tell she was uncomfortable.

“i’m sorry...” she croaked, voice hoarse from her night full of crying. 

“i know you are.” 

natasha’s fingertips met the edges of her teeth, followed by the familiar sound of a snap. 

disgusting. natasha felt incredibly disgusting, which in turn made her own self-hatred rise to a level she’d never met before. because how could she? how could she sit here and make you suffer through her own self destruction? natasha knew she was causing you pain, a kind of pain you didn’t deserve.

“i wish you would talk to me and tell me what’s going on, nat. i can’t keep doing this with you and you know that.” you watched as she clenched her jaw, swallowing a breath as her leg bounced sporadically against the wooden floor. 

“i don’t deserve you. i don’t deserve you at all.” her eyes faltered.  

you bit your lip, not understanding where this was coming from. “what makes you say that?” 

“because it’s true.”

“there’s nothing true about that statement, natasha.”

“but there is!” she practically begged, “i’ve done so much wrong, damaged so many people, ruined so many lives. there’s nothing good about me, and there’s so much good in you.” 

you moved closer to her, words ready to fall from you lips about how wrong she was. noticing this, natasha began to trip and stumble upon her sentences as you enclosed your proximity. you frowned having not been used to seeing her in such distress. 

“it sucks because i love you. i love you so fucking much—” her lip began to quiver,  “—and i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry that i still selfishly need you. just please, please don’t you give me up. please don’t give up. i’ll be better, i’ll do better.”

you didn’t bother listening to the rest of what natahsa was saying because just as you’d previously stated, none of it was true. there was nothing that natasha could say that would change your mind. you knew her as the person she is, not the person she was. 

“nat? nat look at me.” you tried. 

it was only then when natasha noticed how close you were. she tried to pull away, but you were quick to stop her by by a small, fragile grasp of the wrist. 

“natasha.” 

the redhead stopped midway through her movement, green eyes trailing from your hand all the way up to meet your own. 

“yes?” her voice cracked. 

“i would never consider giving up on you, natasha. ever. don’t you know? it’s only you, my girl. i love you — only you, babe.” 

“yes, but-”

“but nothing. your past doesn’t define you. that’s what you’ve told me hundreds and hundreds of times, right? i need you to hear me out on this.” her hum was the only response you got, but you chose not to fight it.

“you are not the finished product they made you to be.” although hesitant, she nodded. “you’re good, natasha, you are. i know you’ve spent the last decade it seems, trying to make up for all the wrong that you’ve done, but at some point you have to forgive yourself. you were never at fault. i know you know that, but i need you to believe it.” 

you leaned closer, connecting your forehead with hers knowing how intimate that felt for natasha. “i don’t want anyone else. i only want you— only you, darling.”

natasha nudged her nose against yours as if she was asking for permission to kiss you, but you let her take the lead, let her take the time she needed to before she pressed her lips against yours. 

 “i love you more than you will ever know.”

you giggled into the kiss, “you’re wrong about that, natty. you know you are.” she rolled her eyes, pulling away from you to push you on your back.  

“shut up and let me appreciate you.”

you smirked, looking up at the redhead. “oh yeah? and how are you going to do that?”

“you’ll see.” 

“oh i’m sure i will.”

“yeah. you will.” 

[noritoshiikamo]

worth my time

pairing: noritoshi kamo + fem!oc genre: porn (is fingering enough to call it porn??) without plot ish??? tags//warning: established relationship // slight smut???, fingering, emotional drained reader, reader dated character but then forced into arranged marriage and doubt the whole rs note: unedited, lowercase intended, just me and my nori brainrot dont mind the plotholes and everythingn, its not accurate according to the manga/anime like i just wanna feed myself and i haven't write in ages pls sent some ideas so i can get my lazy brain going, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it  directory: read the first part | second part | third part | bonus

“how long have you known?”

noritoshi shrugged, bringing the cup of tea to his lips. the way he took time to answer her question drove her mad. “noritoshi, how long?” her voice strained. “would it make any difference if i’d known today or 10 years ago?”

her eyes shot wide opened, “10 fucking years?”

a small smile appeared on his lips as he lowered the cup, “hypothetically.” she grabbed one of the pillows from the pile on the bed and threw it to his face, embedded with what little left of her jujutsu power. they have been going on for hours and she was clearly too stubborn to let it go. it was clearly weak; he dodged it with a flick of his wrist switching the pillow’s trajectory. “you’re a fucking asshole,” she gritted through her teeth, falling on bed as wave of anger and sadness crashed through. “you think i wanted an arranged marriage? you think i like having every aspect of my life set since i was a child and scrutinized? i’m a bastard sitting on a throne. unlike you gojou clan, i had it much worst.”

she pulled her hair, fighting the tears that was already streaming down, “it’s not a competition. we are in the same school, i sat next to you for years and you’re telling me you have no idea that i’m your future wife, bullshit!” her eyes flickered as she threw the next close thing within her power’s vicinity; a vase. something hit the vase midway, breaking it into ashes and she watched as a drop of blood stained the floor. he broke it with his power. “you can throw every single thing in this room, y/n, but it doesn’t stop the fact that we are already married.” it was that one sentence that completely broke her. falling on her knees, she let a cry out, clutching on her chest as she cried to her heart’s content. this can’t be happening to me, no, no, no, her mind echoed as she forced herself to surrender to the fact that they are married. it’s not something easy to undo. it pained him to see her like this, but his wife needs to understand that he could do nothing about it. she cried for what seems to be like hours, the sleeves of her yukata wet from the tears and sweat. she fell on the floor to her knees, resting her body against the bed before finally looking up to meet her husband’s eyes. he could see defeat in her tired eyes. “we dated each other,” she sniffled, “was that real or was it just you scouting for your future wife?” her words sound like venom to him “i know you won’t believe me, but it was real. i would still marry you even if the marriage isn’t arranged.” noritoshi stood up, his barefoot echoed on the floor as he walked to his weakened wife. her body was hot, he suspected the skipping (refusing to eat) meals, raging and throwing tantrums after another had put her body in so much stress. he reached for the sash, trying to undo her yukata and she freaked out. grabbing his wrist, she shook her head, “what are you doing?” she asked shakily. “would you listen to me for once? you need a cold shower, you’re burning up, it would help.” she stopped fighting. his tone was a mixed of annoyance and tired. dating him made her realized that noritoshi has a high level of patience; but not right now. letting go of his wrist, she slipped the yukata off her shoulder herself, whined about how she disliked cold shower below her breath. he wore a small smile as he hoisted the naked girl up. it’s a small victory on noritoshi the husband, he’ll savor it for now. 

the girl kneeled on the floor of the shower as noritoshi slowly ran the shower head slowly up her body. her arms wrapped tightly against her chest; she cursed every time the cold water reached new part of her body. ignoring the fact that his yukata was getting wetter, he kneeled behind her and let her rest her back against his chest. with the shower gel, his body froze every time she whined at his touch. something about the way she whined under his touches made him weak. he wants to kiss her stupid face so badly. “it’s cold,” she mumbled, her eyes closed as he ran his palm against her stomach. he pressed a kiss on the side of her face, “better?” he asked as his hand travelled lower. her eyes widened. he continued his kisses, down her jawline and her neck, bruising every spot as his fingers traced a lazy circle on her clit. she moaned out a throaty yes. he continued to whisper sweet nothings into her ears, promises of how he would take care of her, how he’s going to be a perfect husband, how she would be a perfect wife, how they’ll live happily together. she nodded her head in delirium, the pleasure of his fingers had her grinding her back on his crotch and emptying her thoughts. she could barely think straight. “tell me you’re mine,” he commanded, slipping a finger inside, “i can take care of you, baby,” her eyes rolled back, his words were not helping, it was just pure gasoline thrown into a burning fire. “nori, i want to cum,” she muttered, clutching desperate on the now two fingers. she felt his warm breath on the crook where her shoulder meet her neck, his fangs brushing threateningly against the sensitive skin. “open your mouth,” he urged, she whined at the lost feeling of his lips on her neck. she felt something dripping between her lips, his thumb brushing the lower lip. it painted her lips red. it tasted metallic, almost like a blood. it was his. he watched in satisfaction as his blood marking appeared on her right eye. he can control her blood, heightened her senses, throwing her body’s sensitivity off the wall, driving her off the edge with every spot of her body he touches; it sends pleasure twice as much. it wasn’t long until her velvety wall spasmed around his fingers. her body jolted forward; her shaky hands pressed against the wet tile preventing her from falling face first as orgasm washes out. she could barely make any noises, her throat was so dry, she felt like it might bleed.   she won’t deny that the orgasm eased her pain, but she would deny if he dared brought it up; he would not get the pleasure of knowing she enjoyed that.

his palm brushed against her thigh, causing her to look up. he raised his eyebrows in question which she brushed it off with a nod. she grabbed his hand and steadied herself up.

“i’m okay,” she voiced out.

he undressed, continued their shower from square one. they’ve done this before; sharing shower after mission washing blood off each other but this time, it feels different. she sighed at the pleasure, letting her hands rest against his toned chest. we are married, the sentence echoed in her mind as he massaged the shampoo on her head. never ever she thought that this is how she’ll be married. it’s not like she dreamed of a huge wedding. he did throw a small gathering, respecting her boundaries and her anxiety but everything just moved so fast. her parents are dead, her only remaining family is satoru, a distant cousin who finds it a no issue for her to marry her boyfriend. it is not an issue for her to marry noritoshi kamo, she loves him so much, but not like this.   she wished she had more choices in this.   he hummed a song, a habit of his that he caught from his mother, a lullaby his mother always sings. she wanted to hate him so much, for befriending her, making her fall in love with him and then forced her into a marriage. but when she opened her eyes and stared up into his, to see such loving look in his eyes, it weakened her. her heart is a wreck. “why do you do this to me?” she whimpered, slamming her fist into his chest. he refused to answer.

she was tired of his silence.

he turned the shower off, opening the glass door letting waft of cold air out. he left to fetch her towel and she stalked toward the nearby mirror. “how long until the thing wears off?” she asked when she caught a glimpse of herself. she reached to touch the blood marking on her eyes. he wrapped the towel around her body, hugging her from behind and through the foggy mirror, he brushed his thumb on her cheek, whispered something she couldn’t catch as the mark subsided.

“this doesn’t change the fact that i’m mad at you.”

he laughed it off, “i didn’t say it does. you always feel better post orgasm, you know how i know it?” he kissed her temple, eyes burned into hers, “because i dated you.”

her teeth gritted in annoyance.

“you think if i dated you to scout my future wife, i wouldn’t waste my time learning how your body responds to me, the way you yearn for me,” a kiss fell on her neck, “learn how well you control your shikigami and goes through lengths to teach you how to use my bow,” another kiss went up her jaw, “teach you my own blood techniques because god, why jujutsu needs to be such an exclusive thing,” arms went around her waist, “worried sick every single time utahime send you off for a mission, taking care of your wounds, being there to catch your reckless ass,” his breath lingered on her ears, “completely falling in love with you wholeheartedly for 3 years. i’d abandoned my father’s choice. you are arranged to be my wife, on my own accord. i choose you. you weren’t my father’s choice, but even in million years, even if sukuna’s vessel reincarnated again and again, even if the world split open and sent you miles away, even if i’m not the head of kamo clan,” his hand grabbed her chin, hard and forced her to meet his eyes, his words send shivers down her spine, “i would still choose you.”

she’s completely putty in his hand. she let out a soft whine as his body abandoned her, his warmth gone and came the cold biting her bare skin. her eyes followed the back of the man as he stalked to the wardrobe leaving the girl alone to ponder on his words.

“now, wouldn’t it just be a waste of my time, my wife?”