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[ay0nha]

hello :3

i can't stop thinking about nanami being readers biggest cheerleader but on the down low...imagine that reader is outspoken and always gets introuble and because she's a girl is never taken seriously so she gets into trouble for something big and is now "shadowing" nanami to know how to be a "proper" sorcerer !!!! but nanami is pining for reader and does everything to make her "punishment" bearable...can be smut if you're comfortable! but either way I love your writing and what you can do! hope you read this!!!

uwu thank youxxx

PAIRING: Nanami Kento x f!reader (sorcerer)

WORD COUNT: 3K~

WARNINGS: angst, canon-typical things, mentions of blood, death, injury, etc, innuendos, blink and you'll miss the slight fluff, rushed ending, hope it isn't confusing, etc.

A/N: I ADORE this ask!! I got a little more angsty than I thought with it and @hatsunemitskislobotomy and I have talked LONG about the entire world that could be created around this idea. SO, I think I'm going to make a second part to this (maybe three parts total? we'll see). Thank YOU for your patience. Enjoy.

“Answer the question.”

The brief and concise statement thrown at you mimicked the ones prior. Your reluctance to answer was anticipated; everyone seated before the Jujutsu higher–ups reacted similarly. But the jury surrounding you didn’t have the same empathy for you.

“The answer is obvious, isn’t it?” You were oddly relaxed in the stiff wooden seat. The eyes on you hadn’t made you nervous but instead energized your subtle rage. “Or is our system that dull? Have you truly failed to see who is behind this?”

“Be mindful; your responses have repercussions.” The Jujutsu Commander warned. His position saved you from a scornful vote against your innocence. Yet, those who looked on weren’t too far off. “Were you or were you not responsible for what happened at the Kokuritsu Kokkai Toshokan?”

The framing of your trial was spectacular. All evidence was vindictive, and the story was so perfectly skewed there was no way to worm your way out. Your fate was already sealed.

“You lot ask the wrong questions.” Your laugh was bitter.

“Your admission. Only.” His patience was running thin, his politeness only formality as his tone opposed it entirely.

The truth was a volatile thing. Children were taught that it was essential in life, valued so highly that corrupt justice could manipulate it so finely that you almost believed it yourself. 

Lying, therefore, became a habit. It came naturally as if it was second-hand nature.

The twitch of your lip was poisonous. “Guilty.”

The others murmured at your feigned candor. The whispers were silly, as anonymity never existed for those behind the walls. Every face was bared, burned into your memory by resentment.

—

Your wrists itched. 

It was as if phantom threads tethered you down. When the knots tightened due to your resistance, you became a marionette for those who put you in your place. You’d move with dexterity as a puppet controlled by those ranked above you. 

Your exhaustion created a silly—delusional— image. Your cheeks were rosy with red paint, and your eyes brightened with Pierrot-styled tears. You performed on a stage silently, an alienated observer of the mysteries and shadows of sorcery.

You took on a second life, reciting an alert, troubled, swaying, and deliberately uncertain verse. It didn’t matter if the audience understood; they considered what you said genuine art. Then, when it all ended, the standing ovation wouldn’t bring you joy but the flowers that waited for you. 

It wasn’t until the third time your name was called that you acknowledged its source. 

“What do you see?” Nanami’s tone was sterile, but you knew he was fighting frustration at your languidity. 

The stone walls were icy, and the lack of sunlight within the church nurtured the cold. Nature started reclaiming every pew, and the stained glass became disfigured. Its evidence of abandonment seemed uneventful—normal. 

“Graffiti.” Your response was dull. 

Effort was a comical notion.

Sorcery required it at times, just as breathing did. The effort now felt good, worth it. The icy air that reached the ends of your lungs stung. Yet, each breath was quieter, the effort only coming in the form of physical mechanics of pushing a warm breath back out that the air around you marked.

Although studied meticulously, its real trait was its vitality.  It shifted and molded. Evolved.  It made even more concrete things seem like rubber, rejecting electricity with an uncanny ability to mold into shapes unknown. It was the type of thing that could be so exciting to happen just to become something so vague that it no longer held value to it.

You felt childish, undermined really, but you knew Nanami was following orders. Yet, your core frustration came from being in the countryside. The higher-ups slowly pushed you out of the city with each mission you were attached to. 

Away from real problems, you were no longer deemed theirs. That distance kept you busy with the unwanted chores of dealing with low-grade curses who were scared of their own shadows. 

“No.” Another wrong answer.  “Look closer.” Nanami urged you, hands tucked away and nodding ahead. “The carvings are in a pattern. Do you recognize it?”

It was an ancient incantation, one that’s effectiveness lessened by time. Most charms were for protective measures, but the spiraled swirl of lettering was fresh. You traced your fingers across the symbols, feeling their lingering heat, only freshly scorched. 

“Cursed user?” Your breath was just shy of being transcribable in the air. 

The temperature was dropping by the second. Something dense settled on your skin in warning. The cursed energy came from multiple points, not able to find a convergence point. Instead, its disharmony grated against itself, creating such a pressure its purpose became overt. 

 In hushed tones, you were careful with your words. “Something is trying to get out.”

“Precisely.” Nanami’s voice echoed lightly, as did his footsteps.  “It has been entirely overlooked…” He explained leading you to the heart of the church. “...I’ve been monitoring this place for months—  

“So this is where you disappear to?” You bubbled, Nanami unintentionally drawing a smile out of you. Your laughter started to grow gently. “…and here I thought someone—a man like you, of your stature, would have—well, you know.”

“I don’t follow,” Nanami answered absentmindedly. His focus was still set on following the etchings and hoping to find any residuals.   

“You value your privacy,” You weighed earnestly. “I don’t blame you for handling your more intimate business away from, well, everything else.” 

Nanami paused. 

After a few heartbeats of hesitation, he caught onto your implications.  There was no reply save for a subtle re-texturing of his breath, the gap between inhalations infinitesimally smaller, the length of his exhalations protracted.

It was nearly imperceptible as Nanami fought to smother it. It may have gone unnoticed, mistaken for concentration. However, to an experienced eye, you watched your words ripple an ever still puddle of emotions.  

With a gentle clear of his throat, Nanami quelled your suspicions. “You’re the only other that knows this exists.” 

“Not even those old conservatives?” You were impressed by his discretion. “Breaking the rules for me, Kento?” 

It was as if you knew how your words tickled Nanami’s sides. They taunted him with childhood memories that made the tips of his ears heat. However, your words cemented that you siphoned your humor through affection. 

Nanami remained practical; any endearment had to be taken at face value. 

“Our visit is to resolve this before they find out.” He ignored you, reaching for his blunt blade. “Now, stand back.”

Cursed energy fluidly surrounded his stature as he conjured his technique.

With sharpened eyes, you took Nanami’s presence in. The suit he wore was filled well.  Even late into the evening, he was always so poised. Professional.  It worked silently, exuding from his presence alone. That magnetism couldn’t be credited to sorcery but to how he evolved, becoming pointed and moving without fault. 

It channeled well into his movements; the swipe of his blade was swift in finding the wall’s weak point. Everything was so well calculated, Nanami remained standing, untouched by the debris that floated around you. 

“Stay close,” He instructed, knowing curses fed off the unanticipated. “Please understand this is for information only.” 

Very little light penetrated the swamp of shadows. That gleam revealed etchings of connected hands. They were conjoined by a thin tongue of brilliant flame that wound its way around the hands like a red-hot wire.  

You stepped carefully, tracing the path Nanami created for you. He mumbled warnings that always came with the unknown, but his voice slowly warbled into a tune you could barely make out. The walls seemed to pull you in, their dissonance filling your senses. 

“It’s warm…” You noted, the oddity furthering your curiosity. Your fingertips burned against the markings.  “It’s like the cursed energy is…is it? It’s–It’s moving.” 

“It’s growing.” Nanami stated. There was a feeling of regret bubbling behind his words, as if reprimanding himself for thinking aloud.  “These confinements can no longer hold it.”

The continued touch burned. 

You flinched, drawing your hand to your chest. The walls were upset by the action, groaning with age and anger. It was sharp and tonal, lacking an echo, its mournful cry resonating with despair. 

“Do you hear that?”  Your question dissipated lamely. Although words were spoken, the sounds around you overlapped. It created a deep and thunderous sense of urgency. 

The noise was luring you into a past that never was. This was the moment before a ship could crash onto the rocks. Your arms felt like lead, weighing down with poisonous consequences. 

The cursed energy pressed into your abdomen from all directions; the air was pushed from your lungs, your rib cage about to crack; your eyes felt forced back into your head; your eardrums swelled pounding within your skull, and then with a crack like a whip you—   

“Are you alright?” Nanami watched you return to yourself. He called for you, but you were lost under the curse’s lure. It wasn’t until he reached for your palm that you sucked in air. “What do you hear?”

You felt a needle of pain in your nose like you were near tears. “It’s—crying.”

The missions on the outskirts were always more condensed. The fresh air was too pure for the deadlier cursed spirits. Their strength had little to latch onto without a dense population to feed on. 

This, however, deviated at the core. It was a mistake that relied on the distance to stay hidden. It was an anomaly that should have never been touched. And yet, it found its new prey. 

Nanami’s grip on you tightened with regret. “This was a mistake—

“No, wait…” Your brows furrowed as you pulled away. “There’s something in here,” You continued, hands reaching for the inner wall’s deterioration. The walls became silent, unwilling to guide you any further.  “We need to exorcise this—

“This was to survey only.” Nanami checked his watch, the hands taunting the idea of overtime. A sinking feeling swirled in his chest. “Exorcising an unknown, most likely, unregistered curse is too unpredictable.” 

A quick solution was never appealing when you were capable of unearthing hidden answers. That novelty fed your reputation of being offensively bold. Even now, as you moved through the unknown, you weren’t afraid of the repercussions. 

Although you were still present, Nanami watched you flee. Your guard returned stronger, but he didn’t regret his words. Nanami’s eyes were pleading, and you went to chastise him, but you found something distinct there. You didn’t know what to do with it, but to muse a buried thought. 

“Why did you bring me here?” The anger you carried felt foreign, rarely, if even, had you directed it towards your counterpart. “Pity? To make me feel better about being benched?”

“You know that’s not—

Years worth of vexation simmered on the surface of your skin. “Save your lecture.”

You weren’t lucky like the others. There wasn’t a defining moment that made you who you were, or something so tragic that its vengeance led to motivation. Your birth was uneventful, your existence logged by a series of numbers and your childhood consisting of mediocre memories. 

Even now, the memory of arriving at Jujutsu Tech was muddled with an indifference put upon you.  It wasn’t for a lack of enthusiasm, but for the way even there, with its rarity and quaintness, you were ignored so blatantly. 

There was never any demureness in how you spoke out.  You dissected the obvious flaws of the teachers and higher-ups, but your voice wasn’t considered the way others were. Your presence only became perceived insolence. You hadn’t cared about the threats offered, even when you were removed from the curriculum entirely.

The lack of lineage attached to your name and rare technique led to reprimands even in adulthood. Your presence with Nananmi was one of them. 

Although not on an official mission, Nanami’s current company was obligatory. Where he went, you were required to shadow, to learn from your mistakes and behave like that of a true first-grade sorcerer.   

After a so-called catastrophe, you were put before the higher-ups. Every grievance was brought forth and judgment determined you were unfit to even advocate for yourself. It was then, those imaginary-thin strings wound around your wrists with permanency. 

You pulled at them the further you ignored Nanami’s warnings. 

“This is why you brought me…” You reminded him of your punishment. For you, even this, was to keep an eye on you. “...isn’t it?” 

With Nanami’s cemented frown, his intentions were further concealed. It didn’t have the capacity to speak of the trip’s impulsivity. It ignored the uncharacteristic apprehension that created knots between Nanami’s shoulder blades; new to the sorcerer celebrated for composure. 

It was rash, but the innate desire clear; Nanami wanted to be behind your reprieve. 

“There are rules and regulations. ” He swallowed any lingering remorse. “They don’t stop for you.”

He mistook his demeanor for bravery, but his true bravery formed by being across from you. The only barrier seemed to be Nanami’s incorruptible moral code, a space where you couldn’t quite freely exist.

“Nanami Kento, the reluctant hero…” You tutted with tender sarcasm. A hand rested above your heart, the same way the elderly read the headline that exploited your name, “...how kind of you to pity a recluse like me.…” 

Your words carried back to Nanami’s core, becoming distant as you furthered into the mess he’d created. The darkness succumbed to your presence, your cursed energy steady as it unknowingly created space for the spirit that lurked. 

Nanami’s lips shaped your name, but all you could hear was a mild ringing, a buzz. Your anger dissipated into a murky haze, the harder you blinked the more the argument dissipated. Even if you had held onto it, the lump in your throat wouldn’t allow it to exist. 

The longer you lingered with the feeling, your surroundings slowly morphed. 

All you could hear was your shaky breaths, and all you could see was a faint familiarity with your surroundings. Even your stumbling steps forward felt practiced. 

“Keep up…” A disharmonious voice called for you. It was airy, like a child filled with excitement. “Hurry!”

The environment was damp, still reflecting the country’s dreariness. It was a good hiding place to play, to sneak, and for you to abuse. But the fog in your mind started to swirl. The colors became deeper, more like shadows that soon transformed into familiar figures. 

The curse’s magnetism was a warning you ignored, causing your pupils to blow large at the burden before you. 

The scene was explicit—nothing could be saved from the carnage. 

There was no use in prayers. The gore set the air with dust that could never settle; a blood-warm heat had set into your marrow, never to be forgotten; it had been dragged to your doorstep like a cat bringing in fowl. 

You recognized your own body from the anguish in your shoulders. Hunched over Nanami’s body as you held him tightly, that lump formed in your throat again. 

The fabricated illusion scratched at subconscious emotions and controlled your movements. Your sentimentality was your weakness. Even your stubbornness couldn’t block the overwhelming flood of anxieties and longing.

You watched yourself stuck in a loop, hand rhythmically gliding across the fabric of his shirt in hopes of softening it. To revive something that was determined to remain still.  Its structure was that of a fever dream, its kaleidoscope quality provoking you to interpret it. 

“Nanami?” You couldn’t tell which version of you spoke. Regardless, his name was like torture. “Nanami—please.”

Your defenses damped, your cursed energy draining the further you succumbed to the hallucination. 

“You can’t leave me—” The wails you let out grated against your skin, unrecognizable as your own. “I can’t do—please, Nanami!”

There was a disillusioned passion you felt. It grounded you within the false reality. Even if your mind wasn’t your own, your body moved with muscle memory. Your cursed energy crawled from your core to your fingertips, using the little amounts to start your technique. 

The blue energy extended like nails. You stalked forward until they met your second-self’s back, piercing through your back until you could feel the breeze on the other side.  

The puncture flashed an image, revealing the truth of your damage. 

The spell you were under broke. The veil no longer misguided you. 

“Nanami—” You cursed his name as he grunted in pain. Your hand was warm with his blood. “Fuck. Fuck—” The words tumbled from your quivering lip. You couldn’t think of anything else, repeating the curse. “I’m so sorry—I—

Guilt crawled up your throat when you recognized his hold on your wrist. Nanami’s grip was the only thing keeping your strike from being lethal. Your mouth was dry, shallow breaths passing your lips with a bargaining plea.  

“No, no, no—” Your vocabulary became limited the further you panicked. “Nanami—

Nanami’s breath struggled, but there was determination on his brow. The copper taste took over his tongue, any warning could never make it out in time. 

Your body froze, more aware of your surroundings than your mind. It happened too quickly to realize the position you put yourself in; in a flash, you pushed Nanami to endure the hit from the curse that had forced your hand. 

The moment your head snapped back against the stone wall, everything went black.

[ophanum]

' I'M SO BORED ! - JJK & Lookism crossover

ft. Fem! Reincarnated! Gojo x Various Lookism

Synopsis: After the fight with Sukuna, Gojo was reincarnated to Lookism and became a teacher there. As a teacher himself back then, he began to care for his students like Daniel and automatically landed him in the spotlight of the Lookism universe. Could he still awaken his six eyes?

﹙pt. 1﹚﹙pt. 3﹚

Tags & TW/CW: Lookism-typical violence, stalking, death, spoilers, crack.

Note: If I ever do write male pronouns for gojo accidentally, welp, oopsie. Also how the fuck did I fit that much in this amount of worlds lol.

❝Do you think this will last forever? Do you think we should be together?❞ — I'm so Bored by Sarah and the Sundays.

The rhythmic sizzle of grilling meat filled the air as Gojo Satoru, renowned for her unmatched fighting prowess, enjoyed a date at a local samgyupsal restaurant with Goo from Lookism. Across the table, Goo watched with growing amusement as a man, radiating an aura of arrogance, approached their table.

" You must be Gojo Satoru. Heard you were having a little soiree. Don't mind if I crash, do I?" The man, revealed to be Gun, slams a hand on the table

Gojo, eyes still focused on grilling a perfect slice of pork belly, a playful smirk on her lips "Another fanboy come to witness the legend of Gojo Satoru?" She flips her hair nonchalantly. "How flattering."

Goo, eyes gleaming with predatory interest has a grin on his face when the two of them went eye to eye after what Gojo said. "Hold on a sec, this is getting interesting! Let the strongest fighter in Japan take on the strong white ghost in Korea! Now that's a show I wouldn't want to miss!"

Gojo, finally deigning to look at Gun, raises an eyebrow in amusement.

Gojo was still smirking: "Strong white ghost, huh? Sounds like someone needs a humbling experience. But hey, who am I to deny a little entertainment after a delicious meal?" Gojo wipes her hands with a napkin.

A savage grin erupts on Gun's face. "That's the spirit. Let's see what this legendary fighting style is all about." He cracks his knuckles, his eyes gleaming with a challenge.

Satoru, her smirk widening, slams her hand on the table, the force sending shivers down Goo's spine. She stood, towering over Gun with an aura of quiet confidence.

Gojo whispered, voice laced with amusement, "Let's make this a bit more interesting, shall we?"

She stood up and stretches Leisurely.

"I knew from the moment I agreed to this little date with Mr. Goo over here that someone had eyes on me." I didn't know it was powerful people. Yeah, Gojo could feel it. Her eyes...

She laughed. "This room might get a little cramped with all this excitement."

Goo, adrenaline pumping, watches as Satoru step outside, her movements radiating a practiced fluidity. Gun follows eagerly, a hungry glint in his eyes.

The fight explodes in a flurry of punches and kicks. Despite not wielding curses, Satoru's speed and technique are unparalleled. She dodges Gun's wild attacks with an almost casual grace, countering with lightning-fast strikes of her own.

Goo's eyes were wide with awe. "Now that's some serious skill! She can read every move and turn it against her opponent!"

The fight continues, a breathtaking display of raw talent and honed instincts. Goo, a formidable fighter himself, can't help but be mesmerized by Satoru's every move. Satoru, despite her playful demeanor, is undeniably a force to be reckoned with.

Gun huffed, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. "This is incredible! I haven't seen anything like it!"

The fight culminates in a spectacular display of Satoru's prowess, with a well-placed kick. Gun, panting but exhilarated, stares up at Satoru, a grudging respect blooming in his chest.

Gojo had a triumph grin on her face. "Well, Gun? Satisfied with the demonstration? Perhaps next time, you'll challenge me to something a little more... challenging."

Gun wiped sweat from his brow, a wide grin mirroring Satoru's "That was one hell of a fight! Consider this a promise, next time we meet, I'll be ready for anything you throw at me."

Satoru bumps her fist against Gun's, the air crackling with a newfound camaraderie. Despite the interruption, their date continues, seasoned now with the thrill of the unexpected battle. Both Satoru and Gun, reveling in the taste of a worthy opponent, knew this wouldn't be their last encounter.

--

She hadn't been back to school in ages. Between errands and adjustments (government stuff, no less!), she barely had time to breathe. There she was, sitting on the playground again, ice cream in hand, watching a bird peck at a discarded sandwich.

She kept going back to this spot. It reminded her of a life she could have had, back in the old world.

She stumbles upon the shocking truth: Daniel has two bodies.

But before we get ahead of ourselves…

Back home, emptying her pockets, she felt a familiar bump in her jeans. It was the brass knuckles she'd snagged from Logan, who'd taken them from Daniel. Curiosity gnawed at her – why would Daniel need a weapon? She planned to return them, of course.

At J High, she asked around for Daniel's address. People were weirded out, even more so when she followed up with if he lived alone. Now that was a red flag.

Why would anyone ask for someone's address and if they were home alone unless they had bad intentions?

Gojo wasn't taking any chances. A gun to the head wasn't exactly the welcome she envisioned. After all, if it were Daniel's parents who answered, they might go ballistic, assuming the worst. Gojo had seen parents like that before – a definite no-go.

Finding someone who knew Daniel's whereabouts proved difficult, as expected. But there was one person - a friend of Daniel's, whose name completely escaped Gojo at the moment. (Details weren't important right now. Porbably a name that rhymes with Loo)

With a deep breath, Gojo rapped on the door. No answer.

She tried again, louder this time. Still nothing.

Finally, with a hint of desperation, she turned the doorknob.

Trespassing was definitely not her brightest move, and the potential consequences were looming large. Royally screwed? Absolutely.

But the sight that greeted her was unexpected. Daniel was there, alright, but there was also another person sprawled naked on the floor.

Yikes.

"Hello," Gojo greeted, trying to sound nonchalant despite the bizarre scene.

Daniel's reaction was explosive.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?" he roared, clearly flustered.

"Now, now, Daniel, don't be a stranger! Just dropping by to see how my favorite student spends his free time. Oh, hygiene! You never disappoint! But quite boring if you ask me."

Now, to Gojo's amusement, Daniel was also shirtless. While this might have been a different scenario for most, Gojo (deep down, a true gentleman) simply extended her hands, the brass knuckles glinting in her palm. Her expression remained playfully smug: ":>"

"Oh, thank you."

"Don't sweat it."

"And you!" She smacked his head. "Did your momma ever teach you some basic home security? Like, knocking or locking doors?"

Daniel's passed out. Gojo didn't smack his head that hard din't she?

Gojo chuckles under his glasses. "Oof, looks like someone put Sleeping Beauty to sleep a little too soundly, eh?" Gestures nonchalantly to Daniel.

And the other person that was on the ground sat up.

The other person sat up from his futon. "I can explain!" He said, flustered.

"I genuinely apologize-!" Gojo said but then raised a brow to what the other person that was previously laying down said, she raised a tall brow with wide eyes under her glasses. "What...?"

"Uh—" The guy on the ground said, standing up slowly because of his chubby body. "What did you do to Daniel?"

Others might be stumped but Gojo is intelligent. Everyone seems to forget that.

"\Whoa whoa whoa, hold up a sec. Did someone just put Sleeping Beauty over there to nap... permanently?"

And then Gojo smacked that person's head as well.

--And thats why people forget she was.

Daniel woke up, just when the other person fainted. Gojo caught on to this fascination.

"Intriguing. Looks like Sleeping Beauty number two decided to take a nap too. Fascinating turn of events, wouldn't you say?"

"I can explain!"

"Uh-huh." She crosses her arms with a smirk. "Now, now, Daniel, I knew violence isn't the answer... unless, of course, it is, in this case. Let's hear it, folks. This badass is all ears... figuratively speaking, of course."

The revelation hit Gojo hard. Daniel possessed two bodies, and a desperate search for answers consumed her. His primary objective intertwined with another, both leading him down a dark path – the Korean gang underworld.

As Daniel meticulously laid out his situation, a stark contrast to his usual school demeanor, Gojo captivated him with her unwavering focus. Unlike the animated expressions he was accustomed to, her face remained an unreadable mask. It fueled his suspicion.

This country, universe, oozed an unsettling aura. Two bodies. Gangs. Gojo, he realized, was just the tip of the iceberg. Years of navigating treacherous social circles had honed his instincts. He knew there was a far more sinister reality lurking beneath the surface of these gangs.

"Not only that, but there are four of big--, well... three... but—" Daniel stopped to realize there was no response coming from his teacher. "Gojo?"

Silence from her.

"Secrets, huh?" She rubbed her chin. "Like they could keep anything hidden from me. Amateurs."

Daniel knew absolutely what she meant. And he nodded firmly.

Gojo stood up. Daniel watched him expectedly.

"Think you can keep up, slowpoke? Time to see if their defenses can handle the limitless power of Gojo Satoru! Let's go bust some heads..."

"Huh!?"

"Can't infiltrate on an empty stomach, right? Besides, I wouldn't want you slowing me down during our grand entrance. My treat, by the way!"

"Gojo, why are you like this!?" Daniel cried.

"Besides, enough with the Ms. Gojo stuff. Call me Satoru. We're about to be on a first-name basis after I expose these fools," she said with a confident grin.

This was Gojo's initiation into the grand scheme. Workers, the first domino. Hostel, Big Deal, and other factions soon followed.

Gojo already knew Eli Jang as a student. He was rather popular with the girls and it didn't leave Gojo's eyes when he was swarmed by girls alike in the school after periods. Because she's still a professor, and a cool one at that, she still talked to them. Which she often regrets because the effect of the wild fangirls wanting to murder her that instant she walked in.

But hey, she never learned her lesson when the rumors spread about there's something going on between her and Daniel. yeah, what a shit show. But maybe it was because she kept asking students where Daniel lived, and when she came to school, it was the exact same time Daniel came in. they were also talking regularly which other people have took note of.

So what did Gojo do? Nothing but fuel the fire.

She would wrap his arms around Daniel's shoulder, pay him extra attention to class, and make small talk in the cafeteria. What can she say? She doesn't give a fuck. But at the same time, she had to talk to him about what's been happening in the shadows of Korea.

Yes she have heard the kidnapping of a lot of kids. But she didn't know that is also tied up to these gangs. And it was from Hostel. The name striked a chord with her. Hostel…

That was one of the names that Eli Jang told her when she also found out he had a daughter.

She never asked for the info, but hey, by all means Eli Jang could vent if it means it distracted him from cutting Gojo's hair off.

She's kidding. But have you seen what he could do?

You'll find her a mile away.

Eli Jang never thought of Gojo as anything other than a cool teacher. It was weird that she had the courage to talk to him after all that has been going around him. But how they escalated to him talking about his past to Gojo? Well, she knew how it hurts. They met at the playground where the children were, Eli Jang was with his daughter and tried to give her some fresh air and well, that's where Gojo found him.

And she found him indeed.

Gojo was happy when he talked about how he's keeping this child's mother's promise. But when the light memory connected to the dark one by what's happening in Hostel right now, Gojo could piece one and two together and completed what makes Eli tick.

Eli knew how she can fight. Hell, what she showed by time to time in the escalating difficulty of her class was enough, what more if she actually gave out her limit?

And that's how she met Olly.

Eli didn't ask of her to fight with him. In fact, he did the opposite.

But who the fuck cares.

"The name's Gojo Satoru, the one and only! And let me tell you, strongest fighter you'll ever meet isn't just a title, it's a fact. Consider yourself lucky to be gracing the presence of greatness. Now, what can I do you for?"

Olly's feelings towards Gojo are complex. It's a mix of negative emotions with a hint of twisted respect for his power. She came into their base like she wax going to go sight seeing. Ollyenied Gojo for being free. Olly Wang was a fighter with immunity to pain. Gojo was a fighter with a calmness and fluidity unmatched. It was safe to say it was the most satisfying battles ever.

Olly chuckles, "You may be strong, Gojo, but arrogance is your weakness. You underestimate me. Hehe."

Gojo walks towards Olly slowly.

In a way, Olly Wang reminds him of a certain stitched curse.

"Maybe. But underestimating weaklings is a luxury I can afford."

Olly stands and wipes blood from his mouth. "Don't be so sure. This "weakling" is evolving. And evolution can be messy!"

"Ooh, someone's feeling feisty! Don't worry, little grasshopper, I wouldn't dream of underestimating you. After all, you might actually manage to land a hit on me... maybe. Consider it a learning experience for the both of us."

Ultimately you know how that ends.

And for some reason, someone got the "permission" to film all of that. Gojo formed veins in her head when Daniel showed him the video.

"Oh wow! Someone caught that on camera? Looks like I'm trending!" She forced a grin. "Who dared to record this? This is a breach of security and could compromise the safety of everyone involved."

"I don't know, but we need to find them and shut this down."

"You're right. I'll inform someone I know and see if they can track down the source."

Too late, a lot of people saw the video. And let's just say a lot of people wanted to test their strength on her. Her name started to get around.

Among those impressed by Gun's praise of your strength was Samuel Seo. The idea ignited a ridiculous urge within him: a burning desire to fight you.

He finally encountered you near J High, casually buying a drink at a convenience store. Despite not facing him, you garnered his interest with your undeniable beauty. But the moment you turned, your icy blue eyes, legendary throughout the school, locked onto his. The encounter left Samuel unsettled, stirring a dormant bloodlust within him.

Later, during the Type-Two altercation orchestrated by Daniel, you entered the scene, a wide grin plastered across your face.

"Haven't I seen you before?"

"I should be saying the same thing to you," He stared with clasped hands that are propped by the elbows on his desk. "Limitless fighter."

"E-Ew, that's such a dumb nickname." Gojo cringed.

News of the newcomer reached Eugene, and "surprised" wouldn't even begin to describe his reaction. She wasn't what he'd anticipated, yet a sliver of dread snaked its way into his gut. He pressed his hand to his lips, his mind racing as he strategized their next move. This woman was a force to be reckoned with.

"What do you know of this person?"

"Everyone fears and praises her for her speed, sir."

"What makes her different from Goo? Gun? DG?"

"She'll read your mind sir."

"She'll know what your next move is before you know what hit you. Like she can read your mind. I have never seen anyone fight like that. Not even the king of Seoul."

"Speaking of the king of Seoul!" She walked in.

All of their eyes widened.

"I just met him last week, nice fellow."

Eugene forced a mask of composure. His men stood guard, tense and watchful. Without his restraining signal, the room would have erupted into chaos.

Honestly, the king of Seoul...

Gojo, still breathless from his encounter, found him. Sure, Gojo almost ended Daniel back then, but this new arrival intervened and somehow negotiated with the "king." It stirred a memory within him, a pang reminiscent of Nanami.

Despite the situation, the woman maintained a smile as she conversed with Jichang. Daniel spearheaded the questioning, while Gojo wallowed in his own past, unable to mask his emotions. Jichang, finally noticing Gojo's unease, turned his gaze towards him.

"If you keep looking at me like that I think I might melt." He jokingly said.

"You're quote handsome." she quipps.

His eyes widened and gave a sigh.

"But of course, I don't see you that way!" She gave an eat shitting smirk. "Something bothering you?"

JIchang leans back in his chair, a hint of frustration in his voice "Just the usual. Higher-ups breathing down our necks, intel on gang activities drying up... it feels like we're flying blind into a hurricane."

Gojo stops looking far off for a moment. "Hmm, I see. Well, don't worry your pretty head about it. We'll figure something out. After all, we have the strongest on our side, right?"

Jichang stared deeply for a second, before answering. "Strength isn't everything, Gojo. Even you can't solve every problem with brute force."

"Maybe not. But a little optimism never hurt anyone, did it, Jichang? Besides, who knows, maybe this "hurricane" will blow something interesting our way."

Said man doesn't respond, simply stares at Gojo with a skeptical look.

A tense silence hangs in the air for a moment. Gojo sighs dramatically.

"Fine, fine. Back to the soul-crushing planning. But if you need a distraction from your worries, feel free to spar with me later. Just a friendly little warm-up, of course."

A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she saw him. It was a stark contrast to the harsh reality of her situation. She was in Eugene's office, a place where violence could erupt in an instant, a chair away from a potential target. Yet, the smile she offered remained, strained but present.

Don't worry, Nanami-kun. I'll get a handle on it. Always do. Just a moment of weakness, you see. A strong man needs a good vent every now and then, right?

"You don't have to carry this burden alone, Gojo. That's what we have each other for." Nanami said.

Gojo looks at Nanami, a flicker of hope rekindled in his unseen eyes.

Gojo voices out, his voice hoarse, "Yeah... I know. Thanks, Nanami-kun. Maybe you're right. Maybe together, we can weather this storm."

Gojo closed her eyes and land it on Eugene, who, with a wicked smile, watches her expectantly. She gave him a smile of her own.

"Okay! I'm so bored already," She walked over to one of his guards, who weirdly looked like his brother.

Eugene, the mastermind behind the operation to topple Charles Choi, lifted an eyebrow. He was the strategic root of the entire plan, the one who held the key to their ultimate goal. If they ever wanted to escape this life, the burden of success rested squarely on his shoulders.

"Let's play a game, shall we?"

3.2k words...

[qe-podfic]

@yetrop has created this SPECTACULAR illustration for Chapter 3

The LIGHTING? The POSES? I can FEEL the embarrassment! This is so gorgeous.

WE ARE STILL LOOKING FOR ARTISTS TO COLLABORATE!!

For more info, you can click here to see the original call out post.

The scene behind @yetrop's delicious artwork is under the cut:

He made it to the restaurant, a classy, hand-painted sign informing him that it was called ‘the Sable Nouveau’. Subscript under the building’s front-facing decal added that the place was ‘an innovative accomplishment of the notorious Dr Raven Sable’ whatever that meant. It was a looming glass structure, a postmodern parapet framing the building in black. The architecture combined brutalist form with glossy contemporary stylings. Beautiful but cold and uncomfortable. Aziraphale didn’t like it at all. It would be the kind of thing he’d point out to Crowley, tutting and shaking his head. Crowley would only grin and excuse the design as minimalist. But secretly, he’d agree; Crowley liked eco-brutalism, not brutalism-brutalism.

That was enough thinking about Crowley! Aziraphale was here to get over that whole predicament. It wouldn’t do to dwell on the one thought that he was trying to escape from.

“Table for Muscas?” he asked the critical woman at the front desk. She appraised him briefly before nodding and leading him to a corner booth. His date was already there, it seemed. Aziraphale took a moment to inspect him from behind; he was slim, in a black suit-type-thing, a waterfall of red hair—oh. Oh no. Oh, no no no. This was the worst outcome; so bad he hadn’t even dignified it as one of the options. Crowley was here. Crowley was his blind date. Crowley was B’s friend. B’s friend who—he realised quite suddenly—was trying to get over someone. Who?! When? Why? And why had he never mentioned anything to Aziraphale? And—even more importantly—who? No, really, who?!

“Uh—” came the dissonant sound from Aziraphale’s throat. Having alerted Crowley to his presence, he sat down opposite him. Bashful, but stiff upper lip and all that.

“Ngk—Beelzebub!” Crowley groaned—and that’s what the B stood for!—putting his head in his hands. Aziraphale pitied him; it wasn’t a fun situation, accidentally being set up on a blind date with your co-author. He would know. He was currently having the exact same experience.

“I’m guessing you’re B’s friend, then,” Aziraphale grimaced sympathetically. This didn’t have to be awkward; they were pals. They could endure a platonic dinner together without making anything weird. It wasn’t that far off from what they usually did.

“And you’re Gabriel’s brother.” The words were disappointed.

Crowley’s eyes had a panicked sheen; he looked almost trapped. In the corner booth of a classy restaurant, he rather made the image of a frightened dog pressing themselves to the back of the cage at the pound. Knowing what he knew, Aziraphale was commiserative. Crowley had come here to get over someone—‘Who, though?’ his mind roared, he ignored it—and instead of a suave first-date ready to beguile him beyond the thought of whoever-it-was, there was only Aziraphale, his frumpish co-author, to greet him. Aziraphale would be disappointed too.

“Well, this is suitably awkward,” he sighed regretfully.

“It was my fault for trusting Beez after a fight. I forget how spiteful they are, sometimes. I’m sorry, Angel. They were being mean. Beez is still under the impression I have the same romantic tastes that I did at seventeen. You—uh—don’t really fall into that category,” Crowley explained apologetically, looking rather defeated. Aziraphale almost flinched at the admission. It was a stinging blow, to have the very notion that he might have—at some point—been Crowley’s type so utterly decimated. 

“I wouldn’t assume so, no,” he winced with a self-deprecating wilt. Crowley’s eyes widened as he played back the implications of what he had said, hissing at himself despairingly.

“Not to say that you aren’t—I mean, now it’s… Well, not to say that you are either—” He tied himself into verbal knots, flustered and consoling in equal measure.

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, dear. We’d look an odd couple, if we were together. You in all your leather and me in all my hand-knit sweaters. Odd socks, the two of us.” Aziraphale regarded him with a kind smile, picking up the menu and bemoaning its contents. Never trust Gabriel to pick out a sensible—or even edible—restaurant.

“Odd socks,” repeated Crowley, hoarse.

Aziraphale hummed noncommittally, continuing to search the menu for something palatable; anything that wasn’t a new-age reduction, or an experimental reimagining, or whatever other sacrilegious culinary blasphemy was going on behind the kitchen walls of the Sable Nouveau. Even a humble grilled cheese would have sufficed. But no, the arrogance of fine dining didn’t allow space for something so simple.

“What are you having?” Aziraphale asked, hoping that Crowley had found some hidden gem.

“Dunno, it’s all rather—” Crowley gestured vaguely. Aziraphale agreed.

“It is, isn’t it? Would it be too terribly rude if we—” he gestured vaguely in return, unwilling to voice the sentiment without the full support of his dining partner. Crowley raised his eyebrows, his first grin of the night like the sun at dawn.

“What? Ignored the fancy reservation and instead went to the tapas place across the road from my apartment?” He was snickering, leaning in conspiratorially. Aziraphale’s answering nose scrunch (Aziraphale could communicate a lot with a nose scrunch; for instance, right now his nose scrunch was saying ‘it sounds bad when you put it like that but yes, that’s exactly what I want’) made him snort gracelessly.

“Is it rude?” he pondered to himself, “Undoubtedly.”

“Would it be more enjoyable than eating—” he scoured the menu for something suitably ridiculous, “—‘de jaeger with fermented durian foam’ in a building that looks like it was designed as a prison set for a Dr Who villain?” Pausing just long enough to let the description sink in, Crowley pretended to consider it.

“I think it would be, yeah,” he finished, standing up from his seat and inviting Aziraphale to do the same. Gabriel would understand. They’d never agreed on culinary decisions as kids, either.

Together, they exited the Sable Nouveau, much to the disgruntlement of their server; a sententious little man with a pencil-thin moustache and the permanent expression of someone who had just whiffed a jar of rotten eggs. (Considering the menu, it wasn't out of the question.) He had been trying to find a polite interlude—staff at the Sable Nouveau knew better than to interrupt an awkward moment—in which he could ask for their orders and or offer them a bottle of wine. Six paces from their table—as was his training; close enough to attend, far enough to slink into the background—he watched them scutter away. If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. Or maybe it just blended seamlessly into his general air of disapproval, unnoticed like salt-water in the ocean.

JOIN US ON DISCORD

AO3

[kitsquared]

Alright. I’m just going to ask because I’ve seen the little guys around a few times - take this as an invitation to say whatever you’d like about Scissor Seven; an overview, random fact, excited enthusiasm, whatever you’d like! (I’ll admit I’m kind of curious and I don’t think I’ve actually asked about it?)

Or milaowm. If you so choose. (Did I get the acronym right?)

Story!! I love that you always send an ask to ask about the series I'm into <3 😊💞 tyty!!

Scissor seven and My In-Laws are Obsessed with Me (or m.ilaowm; you got it right!) are two different vibes haha

I'll talk about Scissor Seven here!

Scissor Seven is a donghua about a guy named Seven with amnesia who strives to be the number one assassin so he can get money and use it to bring back his memories. His daytime job is as a barber on Chicken Island. He's pretty terrible at being an assassin but also kinda... good ? If you look at it in another way 🤷‍♀️ He fights with his scissors using qi.

In a job where he's supposed to end lives, he ends up learning more about the people on Chicken Island and figures out what he truly wants in life.

But his past comes knocking at his door anyway.

It's a very funny show that gets pretty emotional! Often in the tag I see people go, "this started as a silly show why am I crying ?? " lol I am one of them.

I mostly watched it at first with my brother out of curiosity, and the art style was pretty cool. The first season was clearly the creators experimenting with the style and tone of the show, but there's a more set tone by season 2.

The humor is a bit crude especially in the first season haha but i think it's really good, animation is spectacular, genuinely funny, enjoyable to watch, and has a lot of fun characters!

Also his family are two chickens :) and they're both neat (his hair style is supposed to imitate a chicken comb)

Seven is a goofy guy with a big heart.

[vampirecatsw]

*CLAPS HANDS AND RUBS THEM TOGETHER* NOW THAT I'M FINISHED ANSWERING YOUR ASK, CYN. (BLESS YOU, BLESS YOU!) PLEASE DO THE CHARACTER OPINION BINGO FOR KAITO, AOKO, SHINICHI, AND RAN. PRETTY PLEASE. MAY YOUR DAY BE SPECTACULAR!

Hi! Here's my ask with drawings (of various quality, you can see as I drew more I got more into the swing HAAHHAH. That's what I get for being so rusty - I don't actually draw that often.) The colours I used are ones I associate with the characters!

ft. my very informal writing style, probably like a thousand typos because I'm typing this at 1am, and many shoutouts to amazing dcmk creators 🥰

Also, please check out Anna's ask! https://akai-anna.tumblr.com/post/739521989281234944/hey-there-my-lovely-mutual-3-3-i-love-when-you

Anna, you're so lovely, fr. I hope this makes you giggle and swing your feet, I had such a fun time thinking about them! I added my own flair with my drawings <3

Feel free to ask me to decipher any handwriting

P.s. That character with the hat you'll see is my sona! I'm calling him Sol because that's another online name I seem to take up often. Feel free to call me Sol as well!

(Shameless plug: Check out my art blog - cyndraws - if you like my art! Also, it has some au ramblings too ^v^. https://cyndraws.tumblr.com/)

KAITO

Bingo count: 4 (well, If I ticked only more more box, I could have extra bingos for almost every extra box I ticked haha...)

The art: I gave up at first and just drew him as a stick figure. Then I added clothes to him, that's why he's so proportionally off,,, My beloved blorbo, I feel like I did you so dirty ��

Fun challenge: Guess what I was inspired by when I drew Kaito's and Aoko's outfits.

I'm literally in love with him no joke. The love is too intense aughhdfk. What kind of love? Yes. I would do anything for him. I'd be so clingy fr.

Headcanons? Sooo many. Not even a joke. They're too integrated into my brain at this point so yeah haha

His HANDS. Slim and very fast and flexible. They have callouses - screw smooth hands. Callouses as a sign of his hard work throughout his entire life.

Fox? He's a fox. So silly, little trickster. https://www.tumblr.com/cyndraws/739418480470851584/look-me-in-the-eyes-and-tell-me-kaito-isnt-a-fox

Let's just link my simping art here too: https://www.tumblr.com/cyndraws/739224275061456896/im-such-a-simp-help-me-kaito-simps-unite-pls Please let me squish his cheeks please...PLEASE

Bonus: Old character opinion bingo for Kaito: https://cyndraws.tumblr.com/post/739190201679757312/everyone-if-im-going-to-expose-myself-as-a-kaito I got over the fear 👍 It's from a while back, like maybe... 2022? idk

I love unhinged Kaito

Gender? Please. I'll take any masc at this point HAHAH

Canon isn't real - Like it's amazing but also like... underwhelming. *Shakes it vigorously* GIVE ME MORE. MORE EKODA GANG. MORE SUPPORT FOR KAITO. LET KAITO CRY. I WANT MORE WORLD BUILDING ON AKAKO AND TO SEE THE KUROBA FAMILY MORE (+ a billion more requests.) PLEASE GOSHO IM BEGGING

(It's ok, I got the fics for these cravings 👍)

~

2. AOKO

Bingo count: 0

Wow. I realised just how little brain space I dedicate to her... but she's also so silly. I love her so much. She's a great character to pair up with Kaito (for any relationships, I love when they're having fun together.) She doesn't need more suffering <3

I love sm how in MK1412 they added extra scenes of the Ekoda gang! And Aoko looks so cute in it! (everyone else? ... it varies)

Snowball fight! ^

Now this is a hella hot take but I personally think KaiAo is much more interesting than ShinRan (for me). And fun too, because I've always been drawn to fun and teasing dynamics like these over the more romantic ones (if you get what I mean by more romantic). KaiAo and Shinran both are such wonderful couples though. *Bangs fists on table* THEY'RE BOTH SO UNBEARABLE CUTEEE

Someone told me I have very similar vibes to Aoko and I've been reevaluating myself XDD. No but I can see it. I think we have a similar energy (in my brain at least, I'm much more tired when I go out) and even preferred fashion.

Would give her a kiss anytime. Definitely. Let's go out on a picnic and have a fun hangout. We would be good friends.

Aolele theory by alizardjae: Please check it out!!! https://alizardjae.tumblr.com/post/134111960564/alright-finally-got-around-to-writing-this-thing Basically it's the summary I wrote up there. I whole heartedly believe in it, because it's a fun theory and I've done it before myself (...ehem annoying relatives) - so it's definitely believable. And I love the idea of Aoko Holmes being carried over from Nonchalant Lupin (<- Prototype of Magic Kaito. It's a fun read!)

~

3. SHINICHI/CONAN

Bingo count: 4

Drawing was inspired by that scene where Conan gets suspicious of Hanzawa-san (from The Culprit Hanzawa, a spinoff of dcmk.)

Ok, so the thing is, I have a very strange relationship with him.

He's so silly, right? He so fun, he's adorable, so caring and well meaning, but I'm scared of him. I wouldn't want to meet him. I'm terrified even though he's so nice 😭. So I'd rather observe from a distance (hence the drawing ^ but I'd definitely set off his senses a lot.)

(What does it say about me that I'm scared of Shin/Cone but not Kaito? I'm working on overcoming my fear of Conan/Shin, I promise *on my hands and knees* I REALLY AM)

(My irl friend understands why I'm so terrified, I've explained the crazy stunts he's done and his very illegal spy equipment to them... they actually got a nightmare about Conan that night. He's such a law breaking little gremlin (affectionate)) So...no kisses for you, detective... only because I'm too intimidated 😭 But I'll gladly make content dedicated to you and fawn over you <3

If it's not already obvious, Kai > Shin/Cone for me. But he's definitely a close second.

Shin's/Cone's aesthetic? So peak. His detective work and general vibes with the series is so banging. That clean formal attire - I love wearing more formal stuff out. Being judged for it? At this point I don't really care hahaha. His mismatching outfits are so endearing, but I don't really vibe with them.

Canon is kinda frustrating for me. Well, as usual, I love to pick out the pieces I love and keep them dear to my heart. Ugh I want more identity issues and character relationship focuses. And more Shinran, this is literally ridiculous for slowburn lol.

~

4. RAN

Bingo count: 0

I drew a masterpiece for her. As she deserves 🥰. (Fun fact, this is the first time I've drawn her properly.)

Drawing inspirations:

Sakura Class! It was so adorable. I loved seeing the povs of both Shin and Ran. The Sakura couple,,, 🥺🥺 why are they so cute

LavenderTowne! Her art is amazing and her art tips are always so helpful: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCD4XIm3ZFhT72WjqhIXMN9w

In particular, I used these two tutorials: Easy Background: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/Zw5oB-ir5R0 Easy Lighting: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/shWoTarp_Vk

*ehem* Back to our ask now

Ran is so lovely! Such a queen, so adorable, such an icon! Have you seen her puff out her cheeks in chapter 1120? (+ many other instances of her being cute of course.)

(^ well, now you've seen it)

I love her with sass! It's so funny and fitting for her. And paired with her badassness? Wow. She's amazing. She has such a big heart too <3

I can see how Shinichi fell for her at first sight, she really is so pretty and cute. Her smile was such a direct hit to his heart XD

Obligatory shoutouts!:

Amazing Shinran analysis by rabbitsrants: https://www.tumblr.com/rabbitsrants/737479648281329664?source=share

Really REALLY cute Shinran art by detshin: https://www.tumblr.com/detshin/734222664310358016?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/detshin/734913462286909440?source=share Their blog also has really cute Shinran content!

For some reason, I associate the english localised names to the more sarcastic and witty characterisations in the funimation dub. That's why I wrote Rachel.

Maybe it's because of halfpenny_jones's amazing characterisation: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfpenny_jones/pseuds/halfpenny_jones/works?fandom_id=964594 Please check out their works too!

~

That's the end~ Thanks so much for asking! It was so enjoyable to ponder and draw. And I'll always take opportunities to talk about them.

Feel free to chat again whenever you feel like it <3 And also, feel free to ask about many other things too, like more character bingos or aus if you find them interesting. I hope you also enjoy them if you go through them.

See you next illusion~

[kareofbears]

a fragile line, chapter 3/3

Newt and Thomas always had something going on—even in the Maze, Gally knew right away. But never did he think it would turn into something like this; a devotion fermented. A reverence that made the chapel look blasphemous in comparison.

—

Or, as they infiltrate WICKED, Gally notices the shift between Newt and Thomas.

read the final chapter below or the entire work on ao3

Gally had never seen Thomas fight, not really. But he's just as ruthless as he'd imagined.

His lungs are on fire, the soles of his feet beginning to burn as they sprint from one end of the WICKED tower to the other, Thomas leading them with a single-minded focus. The only time he slows is to make sure that Newt is still close to him before advancing.

Masks on, boys, Gally told them as they exited the stairwell. They know we're here, but they don't know how to figure out it's us. Let's take this nice and easy and we'll get to the med wing before we know it. That was out the window as soon as Thomas took a step out the door.

The sprinting, Gally doesn't have a problem with. He did have a problem with it, in the beginning, but it was nothing compared to what came after.

The first target was a WICKED soldier who took a step in front of Thomas to stop them. He responded by shooting him in the gut with a stun gun.

Things got out of hand from there.

People started screaming. Some, astutely, turned tail and ran. But soldiers took out their own firearms, cocky and stupid and unaware that Thomas was on a warpath.

Thomas doesn't fight with any particular style or strategy but Gally still recognizes the influence from all over the place—sees Minho in his throws, sees WICKED soldiers in the brutality of his strikes, and surprisingly, sees himself whenever Thomas knocks someone down on their ass. But for the most part, he sees Newt in Thomas' movements, recognizes the false sense of calm and steady movements that coats his every move like the beginnings of a storm.

Thomas tears through their advancing ranks, shattering ranks and letting electric bullets fly from the barrel like it was limitless. Not a moment of hesitation as he mows through soldier after soldier, barely taking a glance before taking a shot. Gally is reminded that he's actually clever when he isn't being a lovestruck idiot. The ways Thomas can conceive of ways to rapidly move people out of the way was terrifying and spectacular; tossing stunners in well-positioned spots, shooting lights out so there's a temporary black out, pushing people over railings and staircases without hesitation.

The soldiers aren't used to fighting someone so fast who fights with such grit and utter lack of consideration—by the time they realize what they're up against, they're already on the ground. The wake of bodies he leaves behind him as they stalk past is a sick gingerbread trail to anyone who dares to follow them. Gally doesn't even bother telling him off. The plan's gone to shit and he can't exactly disagree with Thomas' methods considering how much ground they're covering in a short amount of time. Besides, he doesn't have the urge to see himself caught in the crossfire.

To his credit, none of his hits are lethal. When Thomas eventually runs out of ammo and pulls out a real pistol, he goes for flesh wounds. Organs missed by a mile. But Gally has a sneaking suspicion that is from efficiency than anything else—aiming for something vital might take an extra second. A second that Thomas doesn't seem keen on wasting.

He wasn't concerned with maiming or causing pain. Thomas doesn't want prisoners, no. What he wants is time.

Newt hasn't made a noise except for his constant cacophony of coughs, breaths coming out through tight wheezes. When there's a moment to spare, Gally glances at him. Newt's expression is filled with nothing but curiosity, a devastated kind of awe, and certainty.

He'll never understand these shanks.

They get on the elevator, a jingle playing above them as blood and sweat drip down their bodies.

When they get to the 21st floor, Thomas takes a deep breath, cupping his hands over his mouth as he continues his sprint. "Teresa!"

His voice echoes along WICKED's walls, climbing higher and higher until it peters out to nothing.

"Teresa!" he screams. It sounds like his throat is tearing itself apart. "Get out here!"

A handful of soldiers step out, drawn by the noise, and by the time Gally gets one of them, Thomas is already stepping over three bodies.

"Teresa!"

Newt falls in step with Gally, breathing heavy from running and skin drenched in sweat, he coughs hard enough that he almost loses his balance. "He really wants to find this Teresa girl,” he pants, complexion pale and wan. “Is Tommy alright?”

Gally tries to laugh, but he can’t even muster a smile.

Thomas nearly smashes the med wing's button into pieces, door opening obediently. Emergency lights flash red and yellow, dousing everything in tones that makes it hard to see what's blood and what's not. Even more soldiers greet them, but it seems like they've heard what happened, because they fight with hesitation and unease. They look at Thomas like he's a meteor, an inevitable force of destruction that they have no choice but to meet. At one point, an idiot made an attempt to grab Newt.

The three of them are surging forward before the body hits the ground.

Throughout the bloodshed, Thomas is screaming, again and again, as if he can personally summon Teresa through volume alone. "Teresa—" he calls, but it's nothing but a rasp at this point. Gally sees how his hands clutch at his gun like an anchor, like he'd float away if it was taken from him.

They turn the corner and stop.

His usually spiky hair is flat, his skin is gaunt, his eyes filled with a deep and unmistakable horror that Gally can see from here, but there's denying the bastard who just threw a WICKED soldier straight through glass paneling.

"Minho?" Thomas whispers, taking an unsteady step forward before rushing forward to pull him into a tight hug. "Fuck, man."

Minho turned slowly, shaking so hard it looked like he was vibrating. "Thomas?" he asks, voice brittle and hoarse, as if it hasn't been used in days. "Is this real?"

Gally's chest is threatening to spill over with pure emotion and he can't help but move to grab Minho's shoulder, not quite having the courage to go in for a hug but unable to keep himself distant. "Hey, you dumb shank."

Eyes widening comically, he has to hold Minho steady so he doesn't topple over. "Fucking Gally?"

"Just can't get rid of me, can't you?" Gally grins, and he knows they should get moving, but it just feels so good to have these three within arms reach of him again.

Three?

Gally turns and sees that Newt hasn't moved an inch. He looks pleased, but he looks pleased for them. "You're Minho, yeah?" he asks, the smile he’s attempting falling flat as his face is flushed scarlet, fever truly settling in. "Glad to see you're alive, mate. These two were worried about you."

Gally turns back in time to see the grin slip off Minho's face. "Newt?" he mutters before recognition clicks behind his eyes. Minho pushes Thomas off him with a fury. "You useless shank, you let him get the fucking Flare?

Thomas' eyes harden. "You think I wanted this?" he asks, voice low, the relief melting away for swift anger to take its place.

"What I wanted was for you—" he prods at Thomas' chest, hard. "To take care of that self-sacrificing bastard, and now—"

Newt shoves Minho’s finger away, weak but unwavering. “You don’t get to talk to him like that,” he snaps, ire dripping in every word.

Minho’s flinches and is about to retaliate when Gally cuts in. "Not the fucking time," he hisses. "We gotta go. Thomas here called enough attention for—"

He interrupts himself at the sound of the entrance door sliding open, a plethora of footsteps falling in time with each other. "Shit."

"Spread out." The voice is unmistakably Janson's. "These rats aren't going anywhere. Put this place under lockdown."

The four of them look at each other, tempers momentarily forgotten. "Run?" Newt asks.

Minho takes the lead this time, turning left and right with a confidence that Gally can almost imagine came from running the Maze for years. But despite that, he's not running with the same gait that he had before—there's no injury but he's sluggish and shaky, none of the easy confidence that Gally had associated him with.

He skids to a stop as soldiers approach him, and when they attempt to backpedal, more soldiers flank them from behind.

"Oh, shit."

Thomas grabs the handle to the door behind them and forces it open. "In here!"

They scramble in and with Minho's help, close the door off with a built-in locking pole. With the way they're banging and slamming on the metal, it wasn't going to last long.

Gally swivels around to take in the room. It looks nothing more than an average storage unit, file cabinets and medical supplies littering the shelves that go up into the ceiling. The wall opposite to them is sheer glass, overlooking the beautiful landscape of the Last City.

"Now, I may be under the impression that I'm losing my marbles," Newt starts, and relief washes through him. Newt may be losing huge swathes of his memories, but at least he's not hostile. "But I think we have a few violent bastards on our tail and we're bloody stuck in what looks like a shitty doctor's clinic."

"You used to be the optimistic one, Newt," Minho grits out.

"Can't be the judge of what I used to be, mate."

"Minho," Thomas and Gally offer in unison.

"That's what you're focusing on?"

Gally turns to glare at him. Can you quit joking around? sitting just behind his teeth. But what he sees is Newt leaning against the wall next to the door, sucking in deep breaths like he can't get enough. Black lines trail from his pulse points and crawl up to his cranium, temples lined with black as if they were sweat trails, and he barely looks like he can stay on his feet. His retort dies in his throat. Even now, always jokes, always humor.

"Newt," Thomas grabs his shoulders, peering closely at his face. "Talk to me."

“I’m fine,” he tries, but can’t even make it through his own words before he turns sideways, spitting more black liquid onto the floor. “Fine. Just fine.”

“Come on,” Thomas shakes him, insistent. “Try again.”

"Not sure what I can say, Tommy," he breathes, smile still plastered on. "Other than I'm feeling—not my best—"

"I know," he drops his forehead to Newt's for a moment. "I know. Almost, okay?"

Newt nods and Thomas pulls back, expression drenched in vitriol. Without saying a word, Thomas grabs what looks like a helium tank, and spins, using the momentum to lift it off the ground.

Gally and Minho, fully aware of Thomas' nonsensical plans at this point, just barely moves out of the way as he throws the tank straight through the window. The three of them watch as it falls, and falls, and falls, before landing clean into a deep, decorative pool, twenty-one stories below them.

Thomas looks at them expectantly. "You'll survive."

Minho gapes at him. "You're fucking kidding me."

"It's either this—" he gestures through the broken window. "Or that." The banging on the door ceases for a moment, before something that sounds horribly like a chain being started up rings out.

Thomas marches over and grabs Newt. "You two go first," he tells them. "Then we'll jump."

"Why do you get Newt?" Gally demands.

"Because if someone gets Newt, then one of you gets stuck with me."

He can't argue with that.

Minho gives Gally an odd look. "You take care of these bastards while I was gone?"

"Not like I had much of a choice."

Despite everything, he barks out a laugh. "You're alright, man."

Kicking the remaining glass out of the way, Gally and Minho nod at each other before taking a step forward, knees bent, ready to run, to jump.

He hears it before he sees it.

It's a particular sound. Newt, had he been in the right state, probably would have recognized it right away. Gally knows the sound, has broken through enough door to know the satisfying, final crunch of a lock giving up and a door sliding open.

Janson enters, eyes ablaze and stun gun cocked, eyes scanning the four of them before landing on Thomas.

Unexpectedly, Newt lets out a deep, guttural sound that almost has Gally covering his ears. It's unnervingly animalistic, violent, predatory. Inhumane. "No."

With a speed that's faster than Thomas and a strength that outstrips Minho on a good day, he launches himself directly at Janson.

Time slows down.

Minho, carried forward by his own momentum, is out of the window and can only look back at the scene in pure horror as he dives.

Newt and Janson brawl it out, Janson clearly unprepared for Newt but holding his own well enough to pull out a dagger from his back pocket.

Thomas is immediately surrounded by soldiers, screaming for Newt, arms outstretched as he gets pinned down, sections of his body aglow as he gets tased repeatedly. Just before he loses consciousness, Thomas cranes his neck at Gally, gaze loaded.

It's like he was back in the Maze again, watching as Grievers stormed into the Glade, sees his Gladers get picked off one by one and he can only fit so many of them in the Box.

Thomas would be dead weight, surrounded by three soldiers. Newt might be truly Cranking out, but he can still be convinced, and he's only against Janson. It's obvious. The choice is obvious. Not only that, but Thomas is basically handing the answer to him on a silver platter.

Still mid-jump, Gally grabs the window paneling and, using all the strength he has, redirects his momentum to swivel back into the room and sends a punch directly into a WICKED soldier's jaw.

Fuck Thomas.

With a hardened fury in his core, he kicks Janson in the abdomen, sending him sprawling out onto the floor.

Fuck Newt.

A gun cocks behind him and Gally doesn't think twice before ramming the guy straight into the wall, fumbling for the gun and throwing it out the window, hoping it doesn't hit Minho on the way down.

He's done choosing who lives or dies. He's tired of being full of grief for people who are still alive.

Someone gets a good blow in his ribs, and he hisses before he pulls out a pocket knife, sinking it deep into the guy's lungs before kicking him down.

Dammit, he misses his friends.

There's someone who's still tasing Thomas, and his vision blurs red as he grabs the taser and forcibly twists it until the man is tasing himself, over and over, until he finally collapses.

And now that he has them back, they're expecting him to choose between them? To become the executioner, when that's the only thing he refused to be back in the Glade?

Gally doubles over as someone gets another hit on him, this time in the back of his head, and the knife slips out of his hands. That's fine; The knife was getting blunt anyway. He straightens up, feels blood trickling down his nape, and squares with the soldier in front of him, fist raised. They all have their specialty—Gally's just happens to be hand-to-hand.

In ten seconds flat, the guy's on his ass, sporting two black eyes and a missing tooth.

Janson groans somewhere on the ground and Gally's about to shoot him straight through the skull when he hears the footfalls of more soldiers on the way. This irritating bastard has all the luck.

Gally spots Thomas, knocked out clean, hunched over on the floor. Newt's bent over on his knees, barely conscious, holding onto the corner of the desk like it's the only thing keeping him up. His cheekbones are bruised badly and purple fingerprints around his neck that have Gally gritting his teeth. "Newt, buddy?"

No response. Only erratic breathing sounds in the room, with the footfalls getting closer and closer.

Brute force it is. This is gonna suck.

He starts with Thomas. Sinking into a squat, he picks up Thomas with a grunt and tries tossing him onto his back, accidentally dropping him. This shank is a lot heavier than he looks. Clenching his jaw, he tries again, successfully catching his weight by holding him up by the waist. "You owe me, Greenie," he mutters, with a wry smile.

Newt's a lot easier. "I'm going to carry you," he warns him, because Newt's really the only one who's earned his kindness. "Don't Crank out on me, man."

With one arm, he pulls Newt up, relieved for his slender form, and starts dragging the three of them out the window, sweat pouring from every inch of his skin from the effort. For a second, he wonders if they would have done the same with him when they left the Maze, if they weren't taken by WICKED so soon. Would they have left him then? Would they leave him now?

It doesn't really matter. He'd do it for them, anyway.

He looks down. Twenty-one stories. Okay.

Squinting, he can just make out Minho, wading out of the water and going towards—

Gally's eyes widen as he spots a bus. A bus. The bus. Relief is so strong it almost chokes him. There’s people down there, waiting for them. Rooting for them.

He can’t fail now.

The footsteps are practically on top of them, and there's no time to waste. Nerves threaten to fray but he ignores it, steeling his hold on both of them until he's certain he can't slip from his grasp. Thomas on one side, Newt on the other. Gally bends his knees and—

A gun cocks behind them.

Not a stunner. A live pistol.

Janson, that fucker.

“As a gift, I’ll let you leave,” Janson tells him. His breathing is labored, and it sounds like every word is a struggle. “I’ll let you jump out of that window. I’ll even give you a head start before I send my men after you. In return, you leave Thomas on the ground.”

Gally doesn’t turn around. He can’t jump faster than Janson can shoot. Despite the ache in his arms, he doesn’t move to adjust the boys in his arms. Can’t reach for a weapon. “Thomas getting the special treatment, as always,” he responds eventually.

“Drop him.”

“Can’t do that, man.”

Janson fires at the ceiling, and Gally can’t hide the full-body flinch that courses through him. In his arms, Newt lets out a rasp, a slur of incomprehensible words, focus flickering back into his eyes.

“I was being kind, you know. But now,” he hears Janson take another step, glass crunching underneath his boots. “I’m just sick of you kids.”

“Let me go,” Newt grates out, almost inaudible. “Gally. Let me go.”

“Shut up,” he says sharply. He can’t deal with this right now. “No altruism for five fucking minutes.”

“I don’t know you, but you know me.” Newt twists his neck, imploring and urgent. “Trust me.”

“I do know you, and I know you’ll probably do something stupid.”

“I won’t, I can’t,” he insists, eyes darting to Thomas’ unconscious face. “Take him and jump. I’ll be there.”

“And if you’re not, then what?”

Newt only gives him a helpless look. “I’ll be there,” he repeats.

Gally grits his teeth, frustrated and bitter and so, so exhausted of having his choices dwindle again and again no matter what he does. Stop, he wants to implore him. Stop trying to leave us.

Instead of answering, he subtly nods, nothing more than a twitching of his head, before letting go of his hold on Newt.

It’s strange how the Flare affects its victims. Death, the obvious one. Darkened veins and memory loss, heightened strength and rage. But what’s strangest of all is its speed.

Newt moves almost faster than Gally can follow, hurling towards Janson like a comet. Dodges the first shot, dodges the second.

A speed that’s monstrous, inhumane, yet is identical to that of Thomas. As if he can’t look at Newt at his worst and see Thomas, over and over; a body and its shadow, inseparable in every way.

Gally doesn’t hesitate. He jumps, Thomas in his arms, and hears a third shot, imploring the universe that Newt dodged that one, too.

“Jump, Newt!” Gally screams, begs, as they fall, wind whooshing in his ears until he can barely hear himself. Grief, once again, threatens to eat him alive. “Please.”

—

He doesn't even feel the impact when they hit the water. His body was cold longer before the landing.

It's only his body's instinct that has him kicking his feet, tightening his hold on Thomas as he all but seeps the very last bit of his energy to take them to the surface.

Are they alive?

It’s that question that gets him moving again, to go past his limits and drag Thomas’ body up, up, up, until someone dives in and grabs Gally and Thomas by their harness and drags them up to the surface. When they break free, Gally gasps, sucking in the air that his lungs are begging for.

Brenda’s dragging him to the edge of the pool. "Missing one,” she gasps, hair flat and breathing hard to the point where she can only let out a few words at a time. “Where?”

"Janson came in—" Gally had to stop, air too scarce in his lungs to speak. “Self-sacrificing idiot. Said he’ll jump—”

Still holding onto the two of them, she wades to the edge of the pool where Minho was pacing, droplets falling with every move he makes. "Newt?" he demands.

Gally pulls himself out and points up, trying to calm the shake to his voice. “Any minute now.”

They haul Thomas onto the concrete first, Gally pulling himself up. They crane their necks, seeing only blackness through the broken window. From this distance, they can’t hear anything even if they strain. “Should we go up there?” Brenda asks anxiously.

Minho shakes his head. “It would be too late.”

“Don’t say that,” Gally interjects, unblinking as he refuses to tear his gaze away from the dark square above them. “It’s Newt. He said he’ll jump.”

“He said he’ll try,” she rebukes. “Right? There’s a difference.”

Minho's eyes flash with pain. "Does—" he glances at Thomas. "Does he know?"

Gally shakes his head.

They all fall silent.

"Shit," Brenda says, summing up their thoughts.

It was at that moment that Thomas' eyes fluttered open. "Newt?" he rasps before he can even take a full breath.

In a moment of hope, or stupidity, or a sliver of childishness that he just can’t get rid of, Gally expects Newt to come flying out of the window.

Instead, silence reigns.

"Newt." Sitting up, he grips Gally's neck, voice low and sinister. "Where is he?"

Gally swallows, and opens his mouth to answer, when the speakers blare out a tune. An announcement.

It was at that moment that he knew Newt wasn't jumping down. A dull ache, the sharp blade of truth. Wave after wave of grief, and in this moment, he drowns.

"Thomas," Janson's voice rings out, brooding yet tinged with amusement. "I hope you enjoyed the lovely swim just now. You kids are just so clever, now aren't you?"

Thomas' grip on Gally slackens as utter horror eclipses his face. "No," he whispers. "Please, no."

"But you can’t leave. Not without him." Janson goes on, and he actually lets out a laugh this time. "Newt? The Crank? You do know how to pick them, don't you?"

Unsteadily, Thomas gets on his feet, staring at the sky, like Newt would be written in the skies, somewhere.

"It's simple. I want you to come back here, alone, and I'll consider giving him back to you. How does that sound?"

"Thomas," Brenda mutters. “Don’t.”

"If I find out that you brought anyone along—any of your little rats for pals, vermin for allies. Well, I suppose your Newt here won't have much time left, either way." A pause, as if he was savoring the moment. "You have half an hour."

The tune plays again before the world falls back into quiet.

Gally closes his eyes, mind spinning as adrenaline shoots through every inch of his body, like it was preparing to fight. But there’s no fight—that would be too easy, a mercy, to use his fists or knives or guns for this. Words are not his weapon to wield. That’s always been Newt’s, Thomas’. The way they can embroider syllables into tapestries of new meanings, can twist and embellish a conversation until it’s in an entirely new direction. He can’t do that.

But fuck, he said he’s going to care. And this is care.

Squaring his shoulders, he faces Thomas. “I’m going with you.”

Either Thomas doesn’t hear him or chooses not to. He goes to a nearby WICKED soldier, unconscious and half-sunk into the pool, and rummages through his pockets, shoving various items into his own. His movements are efficient, clinical.

"You can't go alone," he insists. "It’s a trap.You’ll die, he’ll die. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Thomas’ response is picking up a stun gun and checking its voltage, nodding to himself.

Gally clenches his jaw. "I know you don’t want to test Janson’s threat. I know what Newt means to you. But Thomas, if you go, you're dead. You get that?"

No response.

“Newt would die. For nothing.”

Thomas turns to him, face contorted and eyes bright with tears, unspeaking

“And it would be your fault.”

It was like all the air around them was sucked away, with how Thomas gasps and begins clawing at his own throat. He collapses onto his knees, hard, holding so tightly to the gun that it seemed almost an extension of him.

Gally sits next to him, his joints screaming in relief at the momentary respite. “You’ll let us come?”

Instead of answering, Thomas reaches into his breast pocket and hands Gally the note.

Gingerly, he plucks it from his fingers. It’s wet, on the verge of ripping, but still intact against all odds. With a delicate tug, it reveals Newt’s careful calligraphy staining the page:

To Newt,

Don’t be a twat to this one—Tommy is the love of your life.

Your Crank self, Newt

“A note,” Thomas finally says, the rhythm of his words are cut with unsteady pauses like the first few droplets before a raging typhoon. “If a note is the only thing I have to remember Newt by...”

The implication enters Gally as if through a vein, the reality settling into his bones.

Thomas isn’t going to change his mind.

Minho marches forward, pulls the note from his hands, crumples it up, and throws it into the pool. Somewhere behind them, Brenda lets out a slew of shocked expletives. Thomas only stares at where it steadily sinks underneath the water.

Grabbing Thomas by the forearm, he pulls him up, getting right in his face. "Listen to me, you dumb idiot,” Minho spits, harsh and violent, like it would be enough to erase his own despair. “I've been gone awhile, I know, but I'm going with you to help Newt. I'm saving him. A note? To remember him by? There’s no fucking way I heard that right, because that sounds like you’re giving up.." He shakes him roughly. "Are you giving up?"

Thomas slowly looks up at Minho. "Never.”

“Good—”

“If a note is the only thing I have to remember Newt by,” his expression is almost calm. “Then you can stop worrying about me. You never have to worry about me again.”

Minho pauses, suddenly unsure.

“If I go alone," Thomas says in that same strange tone. "You'll stop me?"

"Yes, obviously—"

Quicker than he can process, Thomas pulls up his stunner and tugs on the trigger on Minho. He collapses on the ground, seizing, before he stills.

Gally stares down at Minho’s unconscious face and can’t muster surprise. Cold dread coats his nape.

“Thomas—” Brenda starts. Scared, Gally notes idly. She’s scared.

He turns to her, expressionless. "Put him on the bus. Take him to Fry, with the kids."

She's about to speak, but he shakes his head. "You can't leave him here." And, with a stillness and poise that he isn't used to seeing on Thomas, he points to stunner on Gally. "You chose me?" he whispers, words edged with a silent fury. "When you promised you'd choose him?"

Gally clenches his jaw. "I chose both of you," he admits. "But Newt—he saw an opportunity and he—"

Thomas' mouth twists and his features form into something oddly, gut-wrenchingly familiar. It's the exact same look that Newt has whenever he loses his memory, just before he loses himself to something that’s definitely unhuman. “Thanks. For everything until now” Thomas takes a deep breath. “But you can’t come, Gally. I can’t risk losing him. You know I can’t.”

It’s a concession, almost. It comes as a sudden truth that Thomas isn't doing this because he hates Gally. He's doing this to save Newt. And for that, Gally finds that he can't really fault him in doing this.

The pull of a trigger, and every inch of Gally's body is encompassed by wave after wave of electric current, until his vision falls into a blissful dark.

[mania-sama]

So, I have ask these questions (ask game) to quite a few people, but most of their unpopular media, at least I know one of them. Except yours (sorry). Can I ask what made you love these 3 media : Child of Light (Video Game), School - Live! (Anime), The Unlisted (TV Show)?

Also, it's okay to be an Oikawa fan (he is also in my top 3 fav Haikyuu characters). And yes, I agree with all you say about him as a character. Though, I pity him a little because in twitter he must be on the same list as any other anime antagonist/villains that are murderer or terrorist or worst 😑😶

Have you finished Haikyuu, Mania-sama? A bit spoiler : he became Argentinian citizen and at the end of manga, his team vs Japanese team (with Kageyama and Hinata). Oh and Iwaizumi became athletic trainer in Japanese team (ironic, right)....

Oh, can I ask what do you think of Oikawa/Ushijima and Oikawa/Kageyama ships?

Some say, Ushijima or Kenma or Miya twins are the best antagonist of Haikyuu. But come on, we know better, right 😆😄? (Along with the majority of Haikyuu fans)....

P.s Do you know why Furudate sensei don't draw Oikawa that many? Because "He is an ikemen (so handsome), that I have to make him look good in every panel (and that is hard)"...😉

hello again!!!

No worries! That's why I listed them - I NEVER set people talk about those three online. EVER. I was not expecting for you to recognize them, or anyone to for that matter!

Child of Light -> Honestly, just an incredibly spectacular game. It takes about ten-twelve hours for a full playthrough without breaks, including side quests and messing with certain crystal combinations for upgrades. It's short, it's simple, it's sweet, but it is just. Beautiful. Very unique, and I haven't quite found a game like this since. One of the stand-out parts of this video game is that it is written entirely in verse. All of the character's sentences and words rhyme, aside from one character, Rubella, a jester, who consistently doesn't say the right word to make the rhyme complete or flow. The introduction of the game is also told in a soothing voice. The vibes are impeccable. Then, not to mention the visuals of this game are in a watercolor art style. It's just... unique and absolutely stunning to look at. The soundtrack is just banger after banger. I strongly encourage everyone to listen to it. Not that you have to intensely focus on the music, but just enjoy the atmosphere it brings. I was actually among the artists' top listeners on Spotify last year, and it was only from listening to the Child of Light soundtrack. The story itself is simple, but that doesn't mean it's not fun or impactful. You play as a little girl who has, well, died from illness, and wakes up on an altar in a "strange, new land" that has fallen to darkness. It is up to you to save the land of Lemuria from monsters and the evil, dark queen. The monsters are really fun to fight and look at (as in, their designs and the way they are drawn are phenomenal). The upgrade system isn't hard to grasp at all, either. You collect characters and help them in their stories. It's a fun, turn-based combat RPG. Everyone should play it, honestly. It's my favorite game. (Oh, yeah, you have a cute sidekick with a quick-wit, too).

School - Live! -> Okay, this anime isn't as phenomenal as Child of Light, but it sticks out in my mind anyway for the way it masterfully portrayed the world it's set in. It's about a group of girls who have a club at their school where they essentially live together at the school. Seems kind of odd, but they are happy with it and enjoy being each other's friends. Well. Turns out the main character is very, very delusional while trying to cope with the world around her. And the world around here is trapped in a zombie apocalypse. It's intriguing to me how her friends try to preserve her delusions (obviously a coping mechanism that I love seeing portrayed in media) while also keeping themselves alive. The narrative bounces back and forth between the main character's delusional reality where everything is normal to the bloody classrooms, reeking dead bodies, and boarded windows. The characters are all flawed individuals who, while being able to deal with the apocalypse, still struggle and flounder and yell and scream. It's just absolute whiplash tilting between these two realities, and it's done very well. Also, the intro song is a banger.

The Unlisted -> This TV show has more similarities to School - Live!, than it does to Child of Light, but is still pretty unique. It's about this organization that brings dental health to students in Australia, but in reality, they are chipping students in the mouth with trackers that can, essentially, brainwash and mind control the kids into mindless machines. The trackers also increase their strength and dexterity (I don't know how it works; some suspension of disbelief is required to enjoy this). The main characters, two twin brothers, find out what's going on in their school after one of the twins purposefully goes into the "dental checkup" twice in place of his brother. The main characters then find out about the existence of a group of runaway kids who are being tracked by the organization because they are all "Unlisted" - kids who were meant to be chipped, but somehow escaped - and conspire to both help the kids and inform the world about the truth of the organization. It's VERY entertaining. I fell in love with the characters and their relationships. The acting is... rough, especially in the beginning, but you get through it for the plot I swear. All of it pretty much hits my fancy; runaway kids, trauma and injury, mind control, funny banter, and family. I just. Really like it. And everyday I think: wow, what a shame this never got a second season. Because it is good and I love it :(. I've attempted to write this as an AU multiple times for different fandoms, but I never succeeded. Who knows, maybe one day I will.

Anyway, Oikawa being "the most evil anime villain" jokes will never not be funny to me. He is just so easy to pick on. I did see recently on Tiktok a video where they said off-handedly and in seriousness that Oikawa and Dazai Osamu from Bungou Stray Dogs were very similar, and I had to do a double-take. No. They are not similar. Not in the slightest. One has conspired to murder/has murdered HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE and is a LUNATIC. The other is a high schooler who plays fucking volleyball. Can we NOT. (It is really, really funny though. I hope the Internet never changes.)

I've considered rewatching the anime because of my recent sudden and violent re-hyperfixation, but I don't know if I'll ever get around to it. I have never actually read the manga for Haikyuu, but I do know about the time skip and how it ends. In fact, I've been writing a fanfiction about the IwaOi during the Japanese vs Argentina 2021 Olympic gold match (not rooted in reality, where Argentina received bronze and Japan came seventh in the actual 2020 Olympics). I hope to release it sometime soon. It's... interesting, I suppose. I'm up to my usual bullshit, and "usual bullshit" means that one character gets unreasonably hurt in some way. It brings me unparalleled happiness.

As far as OiUshi and OiKage, they aren't my favorite but I can certainly see the appeal. OiUshi less so - I think they have negative chemistry, but the idea of them being together is funny enough to be enjoyable for me. I have read one or two drabbles of them before. OiKage is a rather controversial ship, which I understand. I don't think it works well when they are high schoolers at all, but the idea of something shifting in their adulthood is a fascinating concept. I don't mind it, honestly. It would show a lot of character growth between the two characters both individually and together.

[happyinjection]

♠️♥️High Card Short Story 6 “An Afternoon with Finn and Chris” (3/3)♦️♣️

Even Vijay, who gracefully drank chai, had a knack for martial arts?! Finn also tried to learn from Vijay, however…

Original: https://twitter.com/highcard_pj/status/1542705558968344577

Author: https://twitter.com/poipheno

Artist: https://twitter.com/ebimoji3

In the sunlight, the color of his pale green, young leaf-like suit seemed even gentler to my eyes. At the hem of his pants, patterns of roses and pants were imprinted, blending together as if they were a piece of a meticulously arranged plant. His purple socks, which were usually hidden, made for a nice accent color in this scene. Vijay’s presence in the garden looked as though it was a painting.

“You’ve been there the whole time. Make some noise next time so people won’t get startled.”

At my remark, Vijay didn’t seem offended in the slightest. If anything, his lips twitched into a small smile.

“You two were having such a good time, I thought it would be unwise to interrupt.”

He set his mug down, and gestured at us with an opened palm. “Don't mind me, please keep going.”

“Hey, Finn. Can we call it quits for today? We must be a bother to someone who’s having his elegant tea time here.”

I wondered if such was the case, but then it bothered me instead. “Come to think of it, can Vijay do martial arts or anything like that?”

“That is your concern—?”

“No, I do nothing of the sort.”

“Eh, is that so? I thought for sure that all High Card members—”

Chris cut me off as he put his hand on my shoulder. Sighing, he shook his head.

“Oi, Vijay. Give him a straight answer. He’s basically asking whether or not you can fight.”

“Oh, so that’s what you meant? I thought you were asking if I’m adept in a particular martial arts style.”

“What do you mean?”

I looked at Chris and Vijay one after the other in puzzlement.

Vijay placed his glass mug on the table, then stood up slowly and without a sound.

At that moment, accompanied by a rumbling sound, a gust of wind arose. The edges of Vijay’s suit jacket got blown up.

As sudden as how it began, the wind stopped. A few leaves that had fallen rustled on the yard’s grounds.

The next sequence of events happened in a flash. Before I knew it, Vijay was right in front of me. We were less than two metres apart.

I sensed Vijay’s movement, and in a blink of an eye, his ivory leather shoe passed over my head at a tremendous speed. The resultant breeze which followed a bit later lifted my hair strands.

In the aftermath, Vijay stood there with a look of complete calmness, as if nothing had happened.

“……..Watch out! What the heck are you doing, Vijay!”

Chris raised his voice as he stepped back hurriedly.

“……..S-spectacular high kick! Your legs are super long!”

Following that, he bent down and picked up a leaf that was on his leather shoe, then gave it to me. Plucking it at around its base, he was left with the stem and spun it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Huh, didya catch a leaf with that high kick?”

“It just happened to be there at the right time, I believe.” He replied as if it was nothing out of ordinary.

“Siiickkk!”

“Don’t just kick people without a warning! That’s dangerous!”

“I thought it would be quicker to give a demonstration.”

“Even so you shouldn’t have gone out of your way to kick Finn’s head!”

Chris was about to scold Vijay, but I didn’t quite understand why he got so worked up.

“Vijay, could it be you’re that kinda guy. Did you learn taekwondo, or where else did you learn those kicking techniques?”

“Finn! You’re getting back into learning-martial-arts mode! I don’t allow that! Learn only from me!”

“There’s nothing special about it. I received general combat training when I first joined High Card.”

“General, you said, but there must be one thing you excel at.”

“If I have to pick one, it would be…… yoga, perhaps.”

“Yoga—huuuh?”

“That stuff we saw before is definitely not a yoga move, right! Finn, hold your horses! You can’t possibly want to learn yoga from Vijay!”

“Ah, no, yoga sounds okay.”

At the same time, a voice came from behind our backs.

“Finn-san, Chris-san, your lunch break has long been over, you know.”

It was Bernard-ojiisan. He was sweeping up the leaves scattered on the ground using a broom.

“Eh, are you serious?”

Glancing at our watches on the table, I noticed that it was certainly past 1:00 PM.

“Oh no! Let’s go back, Finn! We’re going to get another round of scolding from Leo!”

Chris and I immediately panicked, but Vijay sat back down on the garden chair instead, crossing his legs.

“Oi, Vijay! You’re supposed to get back to work, too!”

“I’m starting my lunch break at a different point of time.”

“Well, why didn’t you say anything! You knew it’s way past our lunch break!”

“Ah, but I did mean to remind you, the two of you didn’t submit your report this morning.”

“Then just say so!”

“Stop it, Finn! There’s nothing to gain out of reasoning with Vijay aside from trouble! Let’s get out of here!”

From inside the shop, I could hear not Leo’s, but Wendy’s enraged yells. Thinking that we would get harshly reprimanded again, we became terrified out of our minds, so Chris and I ran with our suit jackets still in our arms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vijay quietly sipping on his steaming mug of chai.

♠️♥️♦️♣️

TL notes: I’m in no way a professional translator so if you find any mistakes, please do not hesitate to inform me right away. I love the High Card gang and I found it very unfortunate that while it is meant to be a multimedia project, I can’t seem to find the translated versions of any materials (beside the anime) anywhere (if this is against copyright, I will take it down). Hopefully this small TL would help international viewers gain better understanding of HC universe and characters. The author of these SS himself said that he hoped fans would have their “so that’s what it is!” moments when they watch the anime after reading his short stories. So with that in mind, let’s enjoy High Card together~

[scrunkore]

Scrunkore Media "Thread" 2023: Part 1

welcome to the scrunko core

1) Drill Dozer (GBA, 2005)

I'm a big fan of characters with big fuckin' drills, and Jill is definitely one of the more fun ones to play as while you mow down goons (including cops) and navigate platforming levels. It's a bit underwhelming in some areas, but it has a fun and energetic style, and I respect what the final boss fight does. A solid non-Pokémon offering from Game Freak, check it out sometime and maybe track down the cute little prologue comic too. [4★]

2) Kirby Fighters 2 (Switch, 2020)

Kirby is hardly a stranger to platform fighters, being in Smash and all, but having his own one is pretty novel - even if the characters who really steal the show are Meta Knight and King Dedede with their partnership in this one. The game itself is a fun little brawler that will take a few hours to beat mostly because of how long the harder parts of story mode can take, and it's full of fun powers and characters that you can use, but I'm not good enough at fighting games to say if it's really a good one. I enjoyed my time with it, though. [3.5★]

3) Sonic The Hedgehog: The Movie/OVA (Anime, 1996)

Strange, isn't it? Toei's original Sonic "movie" has plenty of oddities like an annoying anime catgirl who I actually kinda love, a silly old owl guy and Knuckles rocking that cowboy hat, and these honestly give it a unique charm. In terms of the main qualities, it's fairly nice to look at with good music and a really fun fight against Metal Sonic towards the end - I must say it's nothing spectacular until then, but I found it to be decent fun. English dub is pretty average for the time, which is to say not great, but it's also kind of iconic? Just a neat little part of Sonic history really, if you like the funny blue hedgehog you should probably check it out. [3.5★]

4) Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (Movie, 2022)

It's kind of crazy how much more interesting this is than the first movie, it wasn't even on my radar until the trailer showed off some of the excellent animated action that the final movie is filled with. I'm glad I checked it out, because this movie is a really fun adventure that also manages to not pull many punches with its darker theme, but it also has some rather silly bits, and I'll admit the bear family storyline actually touched my heart. Excellent villains too, with the terrifying wolf relentlessly hunting Puss, and the comically evil Jack Horner just being a dick the whole time. It's just a damn good movie with some great-looking animation, and I'm oddly excited for the future of the Shrek franchise now??? Thank You Pussy Boots [5★]

5) Super Kirby Clash (Switch, 2019)

Hope you like Kirby boss fights, because that's basically all this game is, with only four (admittedly somewhat new-feeling) abilities to choose from and a whole lot of grinding to be done on them if you want to actually finish the game. There are also microtransactions, but the game is nice enough to give you a limit on them, so I can't really complain about them that much, and you don't need to use them anyway. The fights are fine, pretty standard Kirby fare, and it was nice to see Nightmare from Kirby's Adventure get some acknowledgement. I didn't mind this one. [3★]

6-7) Chainsaw Man (Manga/Anime, 2018-Present)

Tatsuki Fujimoto's Wild Ride has been a hot topic for a while, and it's easy to see why, with the absolutely wild pacing, visceral fight scenes/massacres and great use of horror elements with movie influences that are worn on its sleeve. It's an intense and violent series that still has heart and likes to fuck around sometimes, effectively using themes of control and desire and struggling in a hellish world yet still maintaining hope, it's something with a vibe you don't see often and I'm still eagerly following the manga as it comes out. The first "part" of the manga is done, which is what I mainly made this about, and the anime adaptation is fantastic so I hope it continues at least to the end of that. Give it a go, I'd say it lives up to the hype. [5★ so far]

8) Metroid Prime Remastered (Switch, 2023)

I'd been putting off playing Metroid Prime for no real reason for a while, and then Nintendo randomly dropped the first game in HD on the Switch one afternoon, which pushed me to give it a shot. I'm glad I did, because Metroid works really well in the FPS format, which isn't the type of game I usually play so I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it in the end. There's the odd annoying room or brutal boss fight, and I'm not 100% about the whole visor gimmick, but as someone who loves Metroid, it does Metroid about as well as I could hope. Now, though, I really want them to put the other two games on the Switch too, because using a modern standard controller for this game feels too good to give up... [4.5★]

9) Pizza Tower (PC, 2023)

The indie darling of at least the first few months of the year, it's easy to see why people love this game - it's like that one Wario Land game, but with incredibly strong cartoon influence and also the Shinespark, and all of this works in its favour. It's a super satisfying action-packed platformer with a combo and ranking system that keeps you coming back for more, though I was never good enough to get more than an A rank myself. Bosses are fun and creative too, with a really good final one, and the aesthetic fits it perfectly, not to mention the absolutely incredible music. I don't think it's quite perfect, as there are some levels I'm not too fond of and there is the odd questionable enemy design, but it's damn good game anyway. [4.5★]

10) Kurukuru Kururin (GBA, 2001)

Okay, I see what this game was going for, and it's a good gimmick - rotating a pipe-shaped ship through increasingly difficult mazes while trying not to hit the sides or you'll die works just fine, and if I had more patience, maybe I'd actually love this game. But I kind of don't, and a lot of the difficulty of the game just feels more annoying than anything else, so I can't say I'm a big fan of this one. Multiplayer does look fun, and I guess the birds are cute, but I don't have that much else to say about this other than "eh not my thing". Can't say it's awful though, I still finished it with save states. [2.5★]

11) Captain Toad: Treasure Tracker (Switch, 2018)

I honestly did like the Captain Toad levels in Super Mario 3D World, so having a full game of them is pretty nice. The box garden diorama type levels full of items for Toad to collect are cute and fun, often short and sweet, and although a lot of them may be kind of a breeze, it absolutely will get hard if you try to do a more completionist route. There are also boss fights, but I don't think they're much to write home about, and they kinda repeat a couple times throughout the game, but they don't really hurt. I like that this version added Odyssey levels too, it's probably the best version of the game if you had to pick just one. It's nice fun, that's all really. [3.5★]

12) Kirby's Return to Dreamland Deluxe (Switch, 2023)

Return to Dreamland/Adventure Wii was the start of what is honestly one of my favourite eras of the Kirby series, and this polished remake shows that it's still just as good as it was back on the Wii. Typical fun campaign with everyone's favourite treacherous egg Magolor doing his thing, with a whole new mode starring the fellow after you beat it - the new mode is cool as hell by the way, it's not very long but it's really good extra content that fleshes out the lore. There are also a shit-ton of minigames from across the seires in this one thanks to Merry Magoland, each with their own challenges to complete, and you get funny masks to wear in the main game for doing so. Arena is still here too, and it's good to see Galacta Knight again after he got screwed over in Star Allies. This game's just a complete package, I only wish it had online multiplayer. [4.5★]

13) Blue Reflection Ray (Anime, 2021)

This one's just kind of alright, I would not have watched it had I not done it for someone I loved, but I enjoyed my time with it. It's a sort-of spinoff of a game series about gay magical girls protecting emotions from being erased, and I do really like what they did with that idea. So many of these girls are traumatised, and it explores said trauma in a way that I found rather effective, they didn't do a bad job with that. The character designs are pretty nice too, particularly when they're in their typical magical girl forms. The story itself isn't too bad, but I did get a bit bored sometimes, and the production values aren't anything to really take notice of - pretty standard fare there. I can see why my girl likes this anime, and I found plenty to enjoy about it too, but I don't think it really had much of an impact on me. It was fine, no shade from me here. [3.5★]

Next post here

[zinziinziiin]

finally saw across the spiderverse

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

THE EVERYTHING

HOLY CRAP THAT LOOKED AND FELT SPECTACULAR

spoilers from this point onwards:

was all of it just foreshadowing itself? because it really felt like the whole movie was a mirror of itself

hobie is the coolest motherfucker on any of the planets and I love him? I love him. how did he even get close enough to a cop captain for his canon event

#/fuck_miguel (without the / and _) is an established tag apparently and with GOOD REASON!! he's fucking awful, horrible, terrible, mean, etc. but I still think he's hot because (among other reasons) he moves like a slut and knows how to use his claws (:FlushedHimeno:) so #/TEAMMIGUEL4EVER AND I CAN"T TELL YOU HOW MUCH OF THAT IS A JOKE

gwen is so fucking trans holy SHIT how is anyone denying this. jesus christ. hair's still cool and I think everything she ever does is justified because again she's so trans and that makes her the most correct person in the room at any given time

miles' face is so adorable. how could anyone be mean to him. I know gwen was not always doing right by him and I literally just said she's right no matter what but still. he keeps saying he's not a kid any more but a) he's not even 16 yet and b) look at him. he's baby. but also you go boy be independent and cool and do what you think is right!!!!

there were a BUNCH of blink-and-you-miss-it moments so I have GOT to get this on DvD for when my internet's ass and I inevitably want to rewatch it

there were so many cool comic book style moments and I feel like that's really gonna help me when I GM my masks TTRPG campaign because that was something I was actively hoping to improve. my buddy (who is a player in my campaign) said they like describing things cinematically as well so this is the best of both worlds

AND THE SPOT IS SUCH A COOL VILLAIN FIGHT GOD DAMN I LOVE THAT POWER

I <3 ALL THE COOL SPIDERPEOPLE THERE WERE SO MANY GOOD DESIGNS IN THERE. I CAN"T EVEN PICK FAVES THERE WERE MORE THAN I COULD COUNT

more thoughts to come later?

[agentnico]

John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023) Review

There really is something truly amusingly spectacular in witnessing Keanu shooting baddies whilst doing car donuts next to the Arc de Triomphe. It’s almost like an action parody, yet still super badass. 

Plot: With the price on his head ever increasing, legendary hit man John Wick takes his fight against the High Table global as he seeks out the most powerful players in the underworld, from New York to Paris to Japan to Berlin.

Who would’ve thought back in 2014 that this little action flick about an ex-hitman coming out of retirement after some silly buggers shoot and kill his dog starring lovely Hollywood star Keanu Reeves would span such a major scale combat franchise that’s now on its fourth instalment, with multiple spin-offs on the way too. All this over a puppy?? Well, pet-lovers, John Wick and studio execs would aim to disagree, so here we are with Chapter 4. 

Look, straight away I can say if you enjoyed the previous instalments you’ll enjoy this one too. It’s more of the same, only bigger and grander. Indeed the action sequences are all nothing short of superb, with Wick despatching enemies in a lethally balletic style, very much showing inspiration of Bruce Lee in the fight choreography. It’s all really impressive and is very much a commendation for director Chad Stahelski and his team for constantly finding more and more creative ways of filming straight up mass murder. That seems like a very peculiar observation to make yet here I am. It’s true though, from the long takes to the real-life stunts, this movie looks and feels at times like a video game. There’s even a uniquely stunning scene involving a battle-weary Wick charging from room to room through an abandoned decaying building with the camera tracking his progress  in a long, unbroken shot from overhead/bird’s-eye-view as he guns down attacker after attacker using an incendiary rounds shotgun. It’s mad and great! However for all the amazing ground-breaking fighting shots this movie does suffer heavily from being too bloated and excessive. With the meandering runtime of nearly 3 hours, there’s a lot action that does get repetitive. There’s only so many creative ways you can headshot kill someone, you know? 

The story too suffers from, well, not being there. Look, the original John Wick had the simple yet brilliant premise of the guy getting revenge for his killed puppy. It was bizarre yet perfectly apt for the character of Wick. However since then the sequels have all been revealing this crazy assassins world involving the High Table that everyone follows, as well as the various rules and codes that these assassins follow. And also that minor factor that whenever there’s a massive fight out in the open, regular people walking by act completely unaffected by all this and continue going by their regular day-to-day. So anyway, it was a very interesting world that was delivered in all its wonderful neo noir style, however by the fourth time around it’s kind of become the same thing again, has it on? Wasn’t John going after the High Table in the last one? And also he had a high price for his head in the last film, and same here, so again, the movie fails to have that feeling of freshness outside of some of its action sequences.

In terms of the cast, both old and new are great. Keanu Reeves lives and breaths John Wick, and also the fact that he throws himself into all these stunts is worth all the praise and more. However slight knit-pick - his character doesn’t have that much dialogue in this one, and I am totally okay with that as I imagine John Wick is not a man of many words. That being said when he does speak, most often all he says is “Yeah” in a very brooding voice. Look, say it once, you’re cool. Say it twice, we get it, you’re a badass Mr Wick. Say it thrice, alright, we get the point. Fourth time? Okay, now it’s just stupid. John Wick says “Yeah” so much I was half expecting Alex Winter to show up and them together scream “EXCELLENT!”. As for the rest of the cast, both Ian McShane and Laurence Fishburne return and bring the respectful gravitas to their element as one can expect. Lance Reddick is always nice to see, and it’s a shame to hear of his recent passing, yet his role in this movie is ironically apt to work as a tribute towards him and his legacy. As for new cast members, the likes of Hiroyuki Sanada, Clancy Brown, Scott Adkins, Shamier Anderson and Rina Sawayama all are given great characters to work with that fit in smoothly into this universe. But special shout out to Pennywise himself Bill Skarsgard! What a great villain! He was an absolute a**hole from beginning to end and I loved it! He even had a French accent and all which tied it all nicely into a neat bow. He was such a bastard and made for a memorable baddie.

Donnie Yen was awesome. End of paragraph.

The musical score and soundtrack was surprisingly impactful and accompanied the action and on-screen events superbly. Like more so than the previous films the music here really amplified the entire experience, so thought I’d mention it.

Overall John Wick: Chapter 4 features a lot of great fighting sequences, a host of old and new great characters and is probably the best of the John Wick sequels (first movie is still the best). However it is also a movie that is starting to show this series’ wrinkles, as such signifying that maybe its time to end John Wick and his killings. You’ve had four solid films, leave it whilst it is still on a high. Donnie Yen was awesome though, did I already mention that?

Overall score: 7/10

[madaminamorganheadsforthearctic]

Lillehammer to Geiranger

The only thing to say about Lillehammer is just look at the ski jump! Possibly the best known one in the world and I wanted to see it. Walking to the bottom was 16,000 steps, so no, I did not climb it as well - and it was a bit late in the day by the time I got to Lillehammer. The pics below are taken from the circle at the bottom of the jump when the skiers stop.

Looking up the hill……

……and then looking back down at the town. It was a long walk!

As I walked back to where I was staying, I passed a group of young men doing road summer skiing!!

I’m staying in what they call a classic hotel which is about preserving some of their older buildings. They are still not old in the sense that we would think it in the UK or indeed in most of Europe, but they have an old quality about them in Scandinavian terms.

As can happen Lillehammer appears to be shut and the hotel empty so I decide to see if I can work out the news on Norwegian television. It is storms and floods in the south; one of the Kings sons has had a fight with his girlfriend and wrecked her flat and now has to appear in court; and their athletes have not done as well at the Olympics as they had hoped. The female presenters are large and the male ones hairy and after the news it’s what appears to be the Norwegian version of bake off final. The female judge is hairy and the male judge has an extra long beard. Apart from the language, I could have been at home. I turn to the weather and blamed on an American hurricane, the long threatened storm is due to arrive in the morning so Morgan tonneau cover off and roof on.

Last night Lillehammer was shut and the hotel seemed empty. When I went to breakfast in the morning and which was a buffet of fish, meat, eggs, bacon, cheese, fruits, cereals, hot dishes, cold dishes and much more, it was packed. I don't eat breakfast!

It’s drizzling now and the rain is due to start in earnest so with a coffee I start on the Morgan roof and this seems to attract attention of every male over 50 - that is if they are not still eating their breakfast.

It is very kind of them to give me a hand, but their help is in the classic style of mankind from cave man onwards. And the is they believe that it is only them who are able to do these sorts of jobs- to the intense irritation of womankind who have to stand to one side and watch them foul it up. Today is just that.

To attach the roof of the Morgan means starting at the back and attaching the inside fasteners in place first. If that is not done, then it is difficult to get the side clips in place, the wind gets up the back of the roof and starts to lift it and rain comes in. They don’t agree and do it their way. But they are a kind group of well meaning chaps and they have put my cases into bin liners for me (I carry a roll of bin liners as the easiest way of protecting the cases from the wet as they have to stay in the outside rack) so I thank them profusely- and drive down to the local petrol station. And under its canopy re-do the roof. Properly!

I did have a pic but seem to have deleted it. Apols.

I am heading for the UNESCO world heritage Geiranger fjord and which is the main reason why I am taking this route to the Arctic Circle. The weather is not good and nor is the road, but after about 3 hours I start the descent to the fjord and the view is spectacular. My pics do not do it justice.

The road is narrow steep and slippery and the inevitable impasse arrives where the camper-van (they are such a nuisance) on the way down, meets the tourist bus on the way up. The impasse looked just that and in the southern European climes where to date I have done most of my trips, this would have resulted in at least a loud voluble argument between both drivers who would have got out of their cabs and be framing up to each other in the middle of the road and the rest of us would be stuck for ages. This time, after a few fruitless manoeuvres by each vehicle, the driver in front of me got out, got it sorted no temperament on show. The lower passion levels of those in cold and wet climates have their positive sides.

In the fjord is both a huge ship and a bank of coaches. The Americans are on the ship and the Japanese on the coaches. But the fjord is still spectacular.

There are also Twizys for hire. These are those little electric buggies where one person sits behind the other and they are open on both sides and the back. Great for this weather. Time for a coffee so I stopped for a chat with the Twizy hirer. Everyone speaks English in Norway which is just as well, as google translator so helpful with Swedish, does not have a translator from Norwegian.

He tells me that his customers are young men who have got bored with sightseeing nature and fathers who want to have a go and compel a bored child to be the passenger.

He then gives me a few paras on how Norway is leading the world on low carbon. Which may be right, but when your population is only 5.5 million, have large oil and gas reserves and the largest global sovereign wealth fund, its easy to be green.

I head off to my hotel which is a couple of miles away. Great view but it’s pretentious. So I have a reindeer burger in the local cafe

[pinnaclemartialartssydney]

Taekwondo for Kids & Teens at Pinnacle Martial Arts in Marrickville Inner West, Earlwood, Caddens in Penrith area & Chester Hill Bankstown Area in South West Sydney

Taekwondo Benefits for Kids & Teens at Pinnacle Martial Arts in Sydney Taekwondo is a dynamic martial arts style that is popular all over the world. Taekwondo is a Korean word and “Tae” means foot, “Kwon” means fist & “Do” means the way of. This is an ancient Asian martial arts form that anybody can practice, be it adults, teens or kids who wish to train at Pinnacle Taekwondo kids martial arts Marrickville. Taekwondo is one of the most spectacular, systematic and scientific forms of traditional martial arts. Taekwondo training at Pinnacle martial arts Marrickville teaches each practitioner more than physical fighting skills. It is a discipline that shows ways of enhancing our spirit and life through training our body and mind to work as one. The major characteristics of Taekwondo are that it is powerful, dynamic, fast, exciting and provides great many health benefits. This is one of the primary reasons why it is one of the most practised types of Martial Arts all around the world. Anyone can start training in Taekwondo, be it kids as young as 3, teens, adults, males or females, as well as people with some disability. So, what are the many benefits that Taekwondo training at kids martial arts in Marrickville provides the kids with? Let us take a look: - Boosts Self-Esteem - Self-esteem is an important trait that all people should have, including kids. Self-esteem helps kids to respect themselves, hold themselves up with dignity and face the challenges thrown at them by life. As they complete each level and go up, they will grow in confidence to face life and the various goals they have. - Learn Self-Discipline - This is one of the greatest benefits that Taekwondo training provides the kids with. Taekwondo helps in encouraging qualities like integrity, perseverance, patience, courtesy and self-control, which makes the kids better human beings. Additionally, this form of martial arts also helps the kids learn a great deal about respecting others. - Learns Self-Control - One of the hardest moves in Taekwondo or any other martial arts form is to stand still and control oneself. When a kid training in Taekwondo learns to control his body, he/she will start learning how to control their mind too. - Promotes Socialization Skills - Enrolling in a martial arts in Marrickville training centre helps the kids to develop their social skills. They would be sitting and participating together in a group, with kids of the same age. This helps them to get along well with each other and make new friends. - Engage in Physical Activity - Taekwondo is a martial arts form that is dynamic and consists of a lot of hard training and physical activities. Taekwondo training is rigorous and the various physical activities help keep your kids fit and in shape. This is why Taekwondo fares better than all other physical activities. - Boosts Teamwork Abilities - Taekwondo Martial Arts training is done as a team, be it sparring or anything. Classes are provided individually but the skills are honed by training with another person. This helps them develop their teamwork skills and aim towards achieving a common goal. These are some of the benefits that kids would get through Taekwondo training. For the best martial arts and Taekwondo training, enrol with Pinnacle Martial Arts Sydney the best training centres in Sydney. We provide dynamic and comprehensive martial arts training the help each person to achieve their Pinnacle. Is Pinnacle Taekwondo Martial Arts Near Me? Head Quarters: Pinnacle Karate Martial Arts Marrickville is located at 23 Yabsley Ave Marrickville Inner West Sydney Pinnacle Taekwondo Martial Arts in Chester Hill is located at 12 Banool St Chester Hill, Bankstown Area in Southwest Sydney Pinnacle Taekwondo Martial Arts in Penrith is located at the Penrith Baptist Church, Morello Terrace Caddens in Penrith Area Western Sydney. Pinnacle Karate Martial Arts in Earlwood Canterbury Bankstown area in Sydney delivers many Martial Arts Fitness and Martial Arts Self Defence programs Sydney wide. Read the full article

[measuringbliss]

Spider-Man Read-Through 047: Mayhem By Moonlight (ASM 187-190)

MASTERPOST

In this batch, Captain America fights Spidey!

We also see kidnappings. A LOT of kidnappings.

Last time, a lot of things happened. Peter almost graduated, Betty dumped Ned, but it looks like she'll go back to him soon if Spectacular Spider-Man is anything to go by, we met Big Wheel, Peter Parker was hot, he also proposed but it backfired, oh and Doc Ock died in a side novel!

Here's a status update for Aunt May: she's been moved to a nursing home. Good for her!

Want the art style update?

Well. They tried!

So Peter's still hard on cash because he refused merchandising offers, yes, even the edible underwear, which I now want to see. He gets closer to a house guarded by SHIELD agents, and thinks about the date with Betty that he didn't outright refused. OoOOooh!

Spidey ends up stumbling upon none other than Captain America, who eventually makes him leave after a short fight. Cap's here to rescue a kid who's been taken by Electro. The latter hasn't appeared in 8 years of SM magazines, would you believe it?

Why is this panel so good when most of the others are... not?

Anyway, unfortunately for Electro, the kid he stole from his parents has "the Plague", so he yeets him and tries to absorb all the power station's power. Obviously, he dies, just like the Lightmaster a few SSM issues ago.

This issue had me flabbergasted for a myriad of reasons. The strange fading, the Ditko-style layout, the weird pacing... It's a strange one!

#188 opens with another kidnapping!

What do they want with Jameson Jr.?! Oooh, I don't like that. I don't like that one bit!

Meanwhile, at the hospital...

Betty, that's really not an appropriate outfit for that kind of place, what the fuck.

Anyway, I really love how Peter's upper clothes are drawn, I don't know what it is about them, maybe it's the shading, but it works. But Betty, for the love of all that's good in the world, what the fuck.

In a seedy bar, Jigsaw, aka the most nothing villain ever, wants to do a heist, but without any super-beings involved, because it's too much of a mess otherwise.

Liz brings Peter to a midnight cruise with their friends, which is fun because I like to see this cast interact. Of course, MJ's also there for her monthly ASM cameo where she dates a random guy.

I need more drama. Go further! Peter, you have to sleep with her. Gimme soap! I need soap. And Ned has to come back, of course.

And while Harry and Liz watch them from the sidelines, we learn that it's Liz who said to MJ that Peter would be there in the first place. I wouldn't be surprised if the same thing happened at the disco...

Jigsaw and his crew suddenly get on board and more importantly, I'm starting to get used to that weird shading.

Like... I can't deny the style.

So Jigsaw kidnaps (what the heck, how many of these are we going to see?!) Harry and Liz.

Hah, the third panel is a new one. Some of these panels (here, the middle one) also look like they could be taken out of context and displayed in a frame.

Spidey's main worry is that Harry relapses on being the Green Goblin. I think he'll be alright for a few years, but who knows!

In his hideout, Jigsaw's so clueless that he decides to let the lovebirds go.

That's a cute scene, aww <3

An interesting chase follows, with Spidey eventually coming face to face with Jigsaw and challenging him to pull the trigger and use his last bullet.

Okay, that's... good.

That's a lame final panel, and might the shocking guest star be Man-Wolf? Hopefully I'll really be surprised.

This reminds me that Marv Wolfman was also the one to write most of Tomb of Dracula, and I'm not exactly fond of the direction the comics took after the first issues (which I found much more interesting). I should continue reading Dracula, shouldn't I?

...We'll see about that.

#189 time!

That's a great first page!

Peter says his goodbye to May (can't he visit her at her new home though?) and that asshole finally gets his comeuppance.

Later...

I'm sorry Spidey but I kind of... don't care about all that. At least it's a nice recap. On the right... It looks like the Kingpin's son, or Silvermane, or that guy who made the Spider-Slayer several times. Are we getting another Slayer storyline? Please, no!

We then get a quick scene of Marla comforting Jameson (after all, his son's still missing!).

A r m s. They could probably choke me both.

Oh, I recognize those lips. It's that asshole for sure. Can't be bothered to remember his name.

OKAY OKAY. FIRST OFF. Once again, the shading in the first two panels is amazing, I love it, I don't understand it but it's absolutely beautiful. It's also there in the lower panels.

But also! That kinda dubcon-ish kiss! That's my jam. Love it. Excellent.

When we see Spidey again, it's several hours later. Methinks there was more than kissing here...

Soon, a mummy attacks J.J., and Spidey defends him.

The right panel is neat.

Of course, Man-Wolf's under the bandages, and he kidnaps his dad. That's the end twist.

#190 time!

As predicted, Smythe's the culprit. He calls himself Spencer, but I thought it was Alistair. Regardless, I recognized the haircut and the lips. Turns out Smythe's dying thanks to regular exposure to radiations in his attempts to rid the Earth of Spidey.

I don't mind this as long as you regularly show sexy Peter too.

Almost there!

In a belated continuation of the Daily Globe's rivalry plotline with the Bugle, we get a glimpse of their offices, where the chief orders an underling to print money. Figuratively. They might go after Peter...

So Jameson's genderfluid. I knew that haircut was dubious!

Jameson successfully gets through his son, but Smythe's really angry and orders him to throw himself in the ocean.

This is stupid! I hate it! And showing me beautiful legs won't make me appreciate this bad ending more! It sucks! It really does!

...And then Jameson Jr disappears before he hits the water. What.

Well, this is still stupid, just differently.

In the letters, a fan also thinks that recent issues had a Lee/Ditko vibe. And the team answers that it was intentional! Good to see I wasn't just hallucinating. Also, the team says that the next issue features the "final-forever" Spider-Slayer. Ugh.

[kamaimasenyo]

“It’s time you show your hand as well!”

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 3

Pairing: Eventual Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Clumsy injury, more stupid fighting Length: 2.5k Notes: If these two dummies could have one (1) adult conversation they’d be in bed together by now. Instead, we get this! *waves around vaguely*

PART ONE, TWO

Money was tight. You had been trying to ignore the dwindling stack of cash, telling yourself that you didn’t actually need to fix the cracked drywall, replace the old oven, or fill in the missing patches of shingles. 

That ignorance had finally come to bite you in the butt. You were rudely woken at three a.m. to the clap of thunder and the pat-pat-pat of rain hitting the house. You loved storms, the excitement of the lighting, and how fresh the air smelled once the rain had passed. 

You rolled over onto your back so you could watch the lightning flashing between the cracks of your curtains. A tap on your forehead quickly destroyed the excitement you were feeling. The wet ‘splat’ was quickly followed by another, and another, and before you were able to scramble up and search for the closest thing resembling a bucket, it had turned into a steady stream.

“Fuuuuuuuck!”

The next morning, the sun rose and shed its light upon a beautiful scene. The leaves, now free from dust, were beginning to turn, the grass glimmered with raindrops, and the sky was clear. You, on the other hand, were a verifiable disaster. 

Hair unkempt, heavy bags under your eyes, and wearing the first items of clothing you could find in your scramble last night. Your exhaustion was so complete, it hadn’t even dawned on you to change or freshen up a bit before going out into the public eye. All you could focus on was getting to Hank’s Hardware and buying all the shingles you could get your hands on.

Once again, however, you were harshly reminded of your dwindling savings and just how expensive fixing up a house could be. The owner, Allan if you remembered correctly, had shown you the right size and style for your home’s roof and you nearly choked at the price.

“You know,” he had said gently, “we do have the option of a payment plan. I don’t let just anyone use it either. It’s for trusted customers. I have a good gut on who I can trust.”

“Really?” You asked, feeling a little pathetic while also knowing now was not the time to let pride ruin such a good thing. “And, um, what does your gut tell you about me?”

“Welllll,” he smiled, hooking his thumbs into his suspenders and leaning back a little to size you up. “You’re hard-working, feel like you have something to prove, won’t back down from a challenge, and are in way over your head with that damn old house.”

“Oh.”

“No offense, ma’am! Sometimes I forget myself and talk to strangers the same way I’d talk to my friends.” He patted your forearm gently then hooked it back into his suspenders, pretending he didn’t notice you jumping at the physical contact. “But it’s true. No denying you won’t be able to shingle all by yourself. I’d offer, but I’m in no shape to be climbing up roofs.”

“That’s very sweet of you, truly. But I’ll manage! I doubt I could afford a handyman, so it’ll be me and my stubborn self scrambling around up there.” You joked, but it fell a little flat since the both of you knew it was the truth.

“I’ve got an idea...” Hank trailed off, his gaze searching around by the till. “Maybe you two can help each other out?” He fiddled at the computer for a minute, then grabbed a flyer from the corkboard mounted behind the counter before handing you two pieces of paper. One was a receipt of what you owed him after this latest excursion and a detailed timeline of when small payments could be made. 

Glancing up at him, you gave him a watery smile and thanked him for being so kind. Allan waved you off and pointed to the second paper.

‘Help Wanted’ it read, ‘Morales Acres. Light physical labour, quiet environment, rate of pay dependent on quality of work.’

“So friendly and welcoming,” you murmured, sarcastically, under your breath. Not quietly enough though because Allan snorted out a laugh and agreed that the ad was worded very abruptly. However, he vetted for the owner of the farm and suggested you head over to see if he would be willing to trade labour for labour.

Or at the very least, you thought, pay you so you can afford a roofer.

Following the directions Allan had provided for you, you quickly found Morales Acres. Surprisingly, it was a very short distance from your own home, making you wonder if the owner had been one of the people to drop by during your first weeks here.

The driveway was a beautiful, winding drive. The view of the farm was obscured by thickets of trees on either side of the road but you managed to catch glimpses of a pond and a few bales of hay before rounding a bend and driving into the yard.

A small gasp left your lips at the sight. It was picturesque! Something out of a travel magazine, or on every city girl’s Pinterest board. The driveway came to an end in front of a statuesque barn painted in the classic red and white, stone walls cordoned off certain areas that, from where you sat, looked like they could be used to house sheep or hens. A few small sheds were lined up along the other edge of the yard but the main attraction was the neatly lined rows of apple trees all heavy with fruit.

Climbing out of the cab, you slowly made your way into the yard with your mouth hanging open dumbly. It was just so peaceful here and it was obvious that the owner cared deeply for the property. You were enchanted and fell immediately in love.

“You must be the help Allan called to say he was sending over,” a warm voice rang out.

Looking around for the source your gaze widened, then immediately hardened, when you caught sight of who was talking to you.

“You!”

“You?!”

To say it had been a smooth business agreement would be a total lie. You and Market Asshole, Frankie you reminded yourself to call him, had bickered back and forth for the better part of an hour before shaking hands. Surprisingly, you had both argued more for the other person’s benefit, something you had been mulling over since.

If this guy was such an ass, why was he also acting like his help with your renovations wouldn’t be worth as much as you picking apples? You knew your presence disturbed his peace, and that you weren’t as strong as he might have hoped his helper would be, and he still hadn’t trusted you with all the workings of his orchard. 

So, while you weren’t going to argue anymore, you knew you were getting the better end of the deal: you help him gather his harvest and get it safely stored in the barn, then he spends the same amount of hours helping you. While the weather during September was prone to drizzle, you had convinced him that a tarp thrown over the baldest patches of roof would be fine and that the apples couldn’t wait. 

He had grumpily conceded your point but had sworn that as soon as the last of the fruit was picked he’d be over to do a proper job of it. So continued the uneasy truce between the two of you for the past four weeks. The first week was the hardest as your hands, unaccustomed to work, blistered, and your muscles ached from sudden use. You had initially tried to pass the time by making conversation but you got the hint and stayed quiet once Frankie started choosing trees farther and farther from yours.

Slowly, however, the blisters healed and gave way to callouses. Your muscles became accustomed to the work and you were able to carry twice the amount as you had started off with. Your home could now boast electricity and running water everywhere it should be, and the pile of discarded furniture had been reduced to ash by a spectacular bonfire which Jacquie and her family had joined you in admiring.

Today started off as a normal day. You showed up for harvesting at the break of dawn, having discovered you much preferred the cool morning air over being up on a ladder with the midday sun beating down on you. The trees were obscured by a low fog that had yet to burn up, but you knew what section you needed to start on. 

Enjoying the way the fog enveloped you, making you feel like you were in a magical world, you began to hum and your steps took on a dreamy dance-like quality. You had never taken lessons or had even been allowed to make such a spectacle of yourself while living with Brad but now you felt free enough to spin, twirl, and glide. Overcome with the joy your freedom gave you, you began to belt out “These Are a Few of my Favourite Things”, The Sound of Music having been played on repeat when you were a child. 

Once you reached the ladder, you hoisted the basket onto your back and continued to sing whatever songs you could remember while you worked. A particularly boisterous rendition of “Do Re Mi” had you flinging your arm out wide and leaning back on the ladder for a dramatic finish.

The apples threw you off balance. 

With a screech, you fell backward, managing to twist yourself around to land awkwardly on your hands and knees instead of on the basket of apples strapped to your back. You seemed to have come away unscathed, with just scratched knees and a throbbing in one wrist. Thankfully it wasn’t your dominant hand.

“Whoa!” Frankie called out, catching sight of you on the ground with the ladder tipped on its side, “Everything okay? Are you okay?”

Coming to a skidding stop next to you, he grasped the basket and slipped it off your back with ease. 

You took a few deep breaths and nodded. “Fine! Fine, just bruised knees and ego...” you assured him.

“What were you thinking?!” He tore into you, “You could have broken your neck! Or ruined a whole barrel of apples! Then what would I do?! This job doesn’t come with health insurance for Christ's sakes!” Running his hands through his curly, brown hair he let out a huff of air and walked over to where your ladder lay on the ground.

“Un-be-fucking-lievable!” You called out, incredulously. While trying to get to your feet, to march over and wag your finger in his face, you put too much pressure on your injured wrist that caused pain to scream down your arm.

You managed to mask the cry of pain as a cry of frustration and got to your feet. Surreptitiously cradling your hand against your chest, you grabbed another basket and walked past Frankie to start climbing the ladder again. Looking at the ground so he wouldn’t see the tears of pain in your eyes, you mumbled, “I’ll be more careful, alright? I’m sorry.”

Stopping your ascent with a hand on your arm he stuttered out what might have been the beginning of an apology but he couldn’t quite seem to put the right words together so he just cleared his throat.

“Just...” he said in a much softer tone, “just be more careful. Okay? I can’t lose my best worker.” 

The lame joke made you smile despite yourself. 

“Employee of the month,” you replied in a dry tone, “hurrah.” 

You shared wry smiles while a silent apology passed between the two of you. His dark brown eyes held a warmth to them you had never noticed before. Their hue reminding you of every tree in the orchard from the early light to the sunset, golden flecks reminiscent of the sun. His face, weathered from so much time spent outdoors, was marked with laugh lines, worry lines, and a small scar gracing his left cheek. 

Your eyes wandered past the scar to note how long his scruffy facial hair had grown and how it had started to obscure those pleasantly pouty lips. 

Then, with a start, you realized you were staring at this infuriating man’s lips like a hormonal teenager. With an embarrassed squeak, you quickly scurried up the ladder, hooking your elbow around each rung to avoid any more pressure on your wrist.

To say Frankie was coping well with having someone around would be a gross overstatement. 

It’s not that he didn’t like the company or wanted to be alone. The problem was that he was starting to like her company too much, to care too much. And caring too much had been the root cause of all Frankie’s sorrows.

First, there had been his Dad, trying to impress the man who never even wanted kids. Then the force, always feeling like he needed to prove himself and desperate for praise. After that was his wife, ex-wife, and trying to be someone he wasn’t so she would stay interested and in love. The pressure created by caring about these people and the expectations they had for him drove him to abuse drugs. Then his friends came calling and Frankie went against his gut because they had cared so deeply about something and he had cared deeply for them.

His wife, his kid, his family, his job, his friends. He had cared more than they did and he had come away worse off. At least now he was clean and sober, and was very aware of the irony of him now making and selling an alcoholic drink.

No, it was best to stay alone. He loved too freely and put too much stock in being loved back and every. single. time. it hurt him.

So, he closed himself off from you. Initially, he didn’t think it was going to be an issue, especially considering how you two had met. But then he found himself smiling at your stories, idly leaning against a branch so he could watch your graceful moments. He hated watching you leave, knowing you were going home to that piece of shit house that he should really be fixing up for you.

He recognized the signs and nipped them in the bud; working farther away, replying to questions with the fewest possible words, focusing purely on work, and maintaining a professional relationship. It pained him to push you away but deep down he knew it was best for the both of you.

Which brings him back to this moment.

Frankie was too stunned to notice your awkward climb up the ladder. Standing there, dumbly, for another few seconds. Wondering, all the way back to the idling tractor, what the hell had just happened.

One minute he was just driving the tractor minding his own business and the next he was having a mild heart attack after seeing his only worker laying limp on the ground. Then, after arguing like usual, you had shared a...a moment and stared at his mouth almost long enough to tempt him to use it.

Part Four

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