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thatfandomslut · 1 year ago

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Social Pariahs

Janis Imi'ike x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Trigger Warning: shameless flirting, cringy pick up lines, two anarchists in love (sry not sry)

Request:

please do a Janis x reader where the reader is new at school and doesn’t want to get into the social pyramid and they are outcasts together idk some fluffy stuff

Mean Girls requests are open.

Janis Imi'ike would be lying if she wasn't enamored by the new girl. She was just so cool. For starters, the Plastics offered her a spot at their table, and she swiftly shot them down, opting for a seat by herself in the lunch room. Watching Regina's face fall as she tried to hide the shock with a scowl was honestly Janis's favorite thing to ever happen. Additionally, they shared three classes: chemistry, English, and, most importantly, art. That was how Janis learned how amazing the new girl was with a paintbrush as she finished an art assignment on the inner self.

"Ms. (L/n)," the teacher cleared his throat, analyzing the canvas. On it displayed the brain on fire. A worry line slowly appeared on the teacher's face before a forced smile fell on his lips as he put the canvas back onto the easel. "Would you like the pleasure of explaining your art as a way to also get to know everyone a bit better?"

It was obvious that (Y/n) didn't want to as she pondered for a moment. "Okay, yeah, sure." (Y/n) stood up, removing the smock that covered her clothes. Though, the paint did find its way to her hands, arms, and face. Janis watched intently, her chin resting on her fist. She knew that if Damian was there, she would be receiving the biggest side-eye in the entire world. Thankfully, within the four walls of the classroom, she was safe from his judgmental stare as she admired the girl from afar. "My name is (Y/n). My art on the inner self represents how I feel the school system is doing more harm than good by frying our brains as they mold us into the people they want us to be rather than the people we want to be." (Y/n) said, sitting back down as the teacher stared in shock.

After a moment, he cleared her throat as he looked around. The other students, with the exception of Janis, seemed to be just as shocked and in a brief moment of confusion. "Right, right… Thank you, (Y/n)." He said, feeling slightly resigned as he plopped back into his chair. He had the sudden realization that one, he didn't get paid enough for this shit, and two, she was going to be a brilliant artist one day using her political ideologies to guide her.

Janis stared brightly at the girl but quickly looked away when they made eye contact with each other. Janis didn't notice the girl approaching her work. It was a small version of her with Cady and Damian with music notes and horror movies stitched over her paint strokes. "Your work is really cool." (Y/n) said, startling Janis, who looked over. She was at a loss for words. She had so much she wanted to say but couldn't. She finally understood how Cady felt about Regina and Aaron. "Are they your friends? I've seen you with him, but who is she? Your girlfriend?" The girl inquired, pointing over at Cady.

"Cady? No, no. She is not my girlfriend. She's cool and all but not for me." Janis said, waving off the feeling of embarrassment that wanted to stain her cheeks a bright shade of red. There was a small hint of a smile on (Y/n)'s lips as she listened to Janis. "I- I notice you sit alone at lunch. Is there anyone I can convince you to sit with Damian and me?" Janis offered, a feeling of dread settling on her chest as she feared rejection.

However, the familiar blow never hit. "Yeah, sure, as long as you're not a part of whatever weird social pyramid scheme that the rest of the school seems to be in." She said as the bell rang. Grabbing her bag, (Y/n) offered Janis a wave that caused Janis to feel like she was floating momentarily. While Cady described the feeling she had for Regina and Aaron to make her feel 'stupid with love,' Janis felt confident. (Y/n) was so beautiful and they shared so many of the same ideas (though she only knew two of them). Janis couldn't help but find herself crushing on (Y/n).

At lunch the next day, (Y/n) showed up, standing behind Janis. "Excuse me, ma'am," Damian smirked over to Janis when (Y/n) began speaking. Janis went red as she looked behind her with a sheepish smile. "I might not be a photographer, but I could see us together." (Y/n) said playfully as she sat next to Regina. Once again, she had rendered the very outspoken Janis speechless. Damian could almost applaud the action teasingly, but he could see how nervous his best friend was. Mercy was Janis's friend that day, and Damian accepted that.

When Janis still said nothing, Damian stepped in to transfer the attention onto himself. "So, (Y/n), Janis tells me you're an amazing artist. Are you entering the art show with Janis?" He questioned, hoping the new conversation would help Janis ease herself out of the shell she had put herself in. "I heard there was potential scholarship money for the winner," Damian added, trying to recall everything that Janis had shared with him. Janis looked over at (Y/n), wondering if she was going to put her artwork in, too.

"Yeah, I was considering it. I was looking through the categories. I was thinking about doing a portrait, but anything I could create would never achieve what Janis's art does." She said, glancing over at Janis who perked up at the mention of the category. She wouldn't want to compete with (Y/n), but she was curious to see what she could paint. "But, there are several different sub-categories with different awards. I might do that so I could get a sense of the competition for next year. I like to scout the competition before entering my work so I know how hard I have to go."

Damian nodded thoughtfully, gently kicking Janis under the table so she would finally say something. "I think you should enter. Your work is amazing. Like the Brain on Fire piece? It was so amazing, and Mr. Callahan didn't even know what to say. You're are speaks volumes. I hope you do enter." Janis gushed unintentionally, hoping she wasn't rambling. Pink dust covered (Y/n)'s cheeks as she looked down in order to allow her hair to hide the blush and the smile that was growing on her face.

Finally, giving herself grace since she knew it was a natural reaction, she looked up at Janis. "Okay, I'll consider it. I am working on something new. I've been going to the art room every free period to work on it." She said thoughtfully at first as she grew more confident. "I think it could work. Mr. Callahan says it looks amazing so far. Though, I think he's scared of me." (Y/n) jested, causing Janis to laugh. Mr. Callahan did indeed keep his distance after (Y/n)'s response last class. "Wait until he finds out I'm a pyromaniac anarchist who loves putting fire and politics in my art to spread my messages." She said with a giant smirk. Janis didn't know she could fall more until that moment and the weeks that followed.

"Hello, may I have your attention please?" Principal Duvall's voice filled the halls just in time for morning announcements. Janis barely had it in her to pay attention since she was texting (Y/n). For about three weeks now, she had been flirting and trying to build the courage to ask (Y/n) on a date. "I want to first announce that there are two students we need to wish luck to. Miss Janis Imi'ike and Miss (Y/n) (L/n) are finalists at the Illinois Art Expo this Saturday. Go lions! Even for art." Principal Duvall said as Damian looked over at Janis cheering 'Art! Art! Art!' Janis could barely think for a moment as she went to text (Y/n), only to receive a congratulations message first.

At lunch, Janis was excited to see (Y/n) in person since the announcement. She was practically buzzing with excitement to ask if she wanted to go with her and Damian. So much so that Damian gently reminded her to calm down because she was shaking the table as her knee bounced in participation. "Hey, Damian," (Y/n) greeted as she sat beside Janis. "Hello, my fellow finalist." (Y/n) winked, nudging Janis softly with her elbow. There was a giant grin on her face, showing that she was just as excited as Janis was.

"Hey, congratulations on being a finalist. I knew that you would be. Quick question, by the way… Since Cady is going with her mom somewhere this weekend, there is enough room on Damian's hot ride. Do you want to come with us on Saturday?" Janis questioned as Damian instinctively smirked at the two. He did it every time one of them joined the other. "I promise it'll be a safe ride. If we hit a bump, I'll hold you close."

(Y/n) looked over at Janis, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "I know you would, babe. I want to say yes but my dad wants to take me." She said with a soft pout. But none of that mattered because Janis was stuck on the fact that (Y/n) had just called her babe. Janis smiled to herself as Damian looked over to see if she'd say something. "I definitely will find you when I get there. I want to see your work. I'm excited to see what you've done." (Y/n) put a hand on Janis's knee gently, and Janis's already red cheeks turned maroon as she smiled more.

That Saturday, the art expo was buzzing, and (Y/n) found herself waiting on Janis at the front while her father wandered through the building to look at the other artworks. "Hey, you," (Y/n) turned to see Janis and Damian riding in on a scooter. A laugh bubbled through her chest as she looked over at them with her brows raised. "Like our sweet ride?" Janis questioned as Damian went up the ramp to make his way over to them. Janis got off, wrapping her arms around (Y/n) as Damian parked the scooter by the bike rack, and put a bike security chain on it to make sure no one drove away with it.

"I love it," (Y/n) chuckled, allowing her arms to envelope Janis, too with a smile. Their cheeks were both burning, but neither broke the hug. "I definitely wasn't expecting it. I thought Damian would be coming in a car with the bass-boosting Nicki Minaj or Beyonce."

Damian gasped, pleased by how well (Y/n) knew him. "You know me too well." He wiped a fake tear away as he approached the two with a grin. He didn't want to interrupt their moment, but it was cold outside and he was ready to see the works that they had been talking up so much (even though neither one of them had seen it yet. "Let's go, lesbian, let's go." He gently gestured for them to go inside, causing them to hesitantly spill up and head inside as they headed for the North Shore High table.

On one side of the table was a group portrait of Cady, Damian, (Y/n), and Janis. "Wow, Janis," (Y/n) grinned widely. "This is freaking incredible." She had to resist her fingers tracing the string that was stitched into the canvas, over Janis's broad brushstrokes. She was constantly amazed by Janis's works and talents. "You won first place!" (Y/n) pointed over at the ribbon. As she looked back at Janis, she noticed the girl wasn't paying attention. Instead, Janis's focus was on (Y/n)'s work.

Nerves exploded in (Y/n)'s chest as she hoped Janis liked it. It was a portrait of Janis with poetry placed around her in calligraphy. Her jaw was dropped as she looked over at (Y/n). Before (Y/n) could say anything, Janis kissed her deeply. Her eyes widened before she kissed back, her hands moving to the back of Janis's neck to pull her closer. Damian looked around for a brief moment before slipping away to give them privacy. "I've never been captured like that before," Janis spoke in a hushed tone, smiling at (Y/n).

"Well, I've been trying to figure out how to ask you on a date since the day I first talked to you. I figured this might be the best icebreaker." (Y/n) said, pressing soft kissing to Janis's cheek. Janis grinned at the action, biting her lip. "I wanted to paint you because nothing makes me feel more passionate than when I think of you. You've encouraged me to go after what I love in art and you've helped me grow. Not only as an artist but as a person." (Y/n) expressed, her fingers intertwining their fingers gently. She was thankful that Janis felt the same since she was nervous about how the art would be perceived.

"I love it," Janis's breath was absolutely taken away by the art and over the fact she kissed (Y/n). "And, I like you, too. I thought you were cool before we officially met. But your Brain of Fire art piece is what made me fall for you. You were so cool and outspoken. I really like that about you. I just really like you." Janis shared with a soft smile. (Y/n) grinned at this before kissing Janis again. Happiness swelled through the two, and the Art Expo around them seemed to fade as they stayed in each other's arms for a couple more long moments.

As (Y/n) pulled away, she kissed Janis's cheek gently. "My dad is going to be looking for me at some point. I should go find him. I'll pick you up at six on Saturday?" She waited a moment for Janis to nod. (Y/n) grinned widely before waving back at Janis. She couldn't believe that they had finally kissed. She couldn't wait for their date. Everything felt like it was finally falling into place in her life, and she felt excited and lucky to experience that with Janis.

A voice broke her from her thoughts, causing her to turn around. "(Y/n), wait," Janis called, holding the canvas with (Y/n)'s work. (Y/n)'s brows rose as she looked at Janis. "Don't forget your artwork." She said, passing the canvas over.

(Y/n) shook her head, pushing it back into Janis's hands gently. "It's for you, Janis Imi'ike." She teased out Janis's last name as she winked back at the girl. "I'll see you later, babe." And just like that, she left Janis there with her heart beating quickly and a stupid grin on her lips because she called her babe.

#janis imiike x reader #janis imiike #mean girls x reader #mean girls

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago

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Burn The Witch 3 - Ensnared [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns.

Summary: Things aren’t always what they seem to be.

Series Masterlist

Finding out that the target you had been assigned to seduce and manipulate for information was actually a good person had its advantages and disadvantages.

For starters, the biggest advantage was that now you could prepare a strategy based on his personality. After all, good people were easier to trick, it was the people like you that would’ve given you a hard time if the roles were reversed. You had been taught to approach everyone with suspicion and pinpoint their weak spots to use against them and as it turned out, Bucky didn’t adapt the same strategy when it came to other people.

The disadvantage? You had no idea how to deal with that.

For years and years you had been trained to kill, lie, manipulate and not look back or feel guilty about any of it because you were told that all your targets were the kind of people that would’ve harmed you or others if they had the chance; so Bucky not being evil was surprising at the very least.

The infamous Winter Soldier hadn’t tried to hurt you when he was under attack, hadn’t tried to use you as a leverage to get out of there unlike what you would’ve done if the roles were reversed.

Needless to say, you were confused as hell.

“I mean when you think about it, it’s not surprising that he’s a good guy,” Chloe said, resting her feet on the table in the empty conference room, “Didn’t he fight against Thanos with Steve Rogers and everyone else?”

“I would’ve fought in that war if I could as well, it doesn’t mean that I’m a good person.”

She pouted, “That’s debatable. I think you’re a great person.”

“No I’m not. I swear to you I’m not.”

“Come on, you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“If it were me, I would’ve pushed him into the line of fire without a second thought.”

“Exactly. We’re terrible people and we acknowledge that, Chloe.” Keith said as you tapped your pencil on the file,

“Back to the first impression strategy, guys. How do I meet Barnes?”

“Hold on, before we continue with the strategy you need to give me an answer about your cover job,” Chloe said, “We can’t have him suspect you’re hiding anything from him. Jobs are a huge part of someone’s life, it’ll come up.”

Keith raised his head, “What are the options?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Sales assistant, retail—“

“The last time you put me in retail for an undercover job, I ended up punching a customer.” he cut her off, “I vote no to the retail.”

“I’m sure they had it coming,” you deadpanned and Chloe hmmed.

“Fast food?”

“No, it makes my hair smell bad.”

“There’s a milkshake shop I can put you in, it doesn’t smell bad. It’s close to the coffee shop he and Wilson get their coffee from.”

“What’s the catch?”

A small grin pulled at her lips, “It’ll be good for the mission.”

You frowned as Keith sat up straighter, curiosity written all over his face. “Chloe? Share your devious plans with the class please?”

“It’s a retro milkshake shop and the uniforms are like….1940s pin up meets 1950s diner waitress.”

Keith started laughing and you stared at Chloe before letting out a groan, burying your face into your palms.

“I hate you so much.”

“Come on, it’s going to be Bucky Barnes’ wet dream, you know that!” Keith said, “On a completely unrelated note, can I see those uniforms?”

“No!” you snatched the phone from Chloe’s hand before Keith could take a look, “No you can’t!”

“I’m so going to take pictures, and when you become a handler I will use them to humble you.”

“I will shoot you if you do that, and can you please focus?” you insisted, “I have a meeting with General soon, and he will ask me about the strategy and I can’t go there with no ideas.”

“Just find something you and Barnes are interested in both, that never failed me,” Keith paused, “Well that, and my good looks.”

Chloe turned to look at him, “I gave her a huge file containing everything there is to know about him,” she said, “It will help her to make him fall in love, but meeting him is something else.”

“Guys,” he rolled his eyes “What are you, fifteen? It’s incredibly easy to meet people.”

“No, it’s incredibly easy to meet civilians,” you corrected him, “Or the bad guys. It’s not like Barnes goes to bars or anything, he’s not very social.”

“Yeah I get that but he has to do something.” he insisted, “Just hand me the file, are you sure you didn’t miss anything?”

“We didn’t—he does the same thing every superhero does,” Chloe threw her hands up, “He saves people if they’re in need, but how are we going to use that?”

You opened your mouth to answer but when the thought struck you, you took a sharp breath, narrowing your eyes. A smile lit up your face, the plan slowly forming in your mind and Keith frowned at you over the file.

“Y/N you’re smiling,” he reminded you, “It’s creepy when you do it genuinely.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” you asked as you turned to Chloe, “You’re right. Superheroes save people, and—and Barnes is not only a superhero, but he’s also a good guy right? He didn’t use me as a leverage while getting out of there, so he cares about people’s wellbeing, so to speak.”

“Yeah?”

You snapped your fingers, “I need to find someone to shoot me.”

“Same, you’re not special.”

Chloe gasped, “Keith!”

“Relax, she’s not serious.”

“No I’m very serious.”

He scowled, “Did you forget what happened when I accidentally shot you on a mission three years ago? It was just one time and you bitched at me for a whole month. You found me when I was working undercover in Brazil to show up at my apartment so that you could complain about it more, I don’t even know how you found my address, it was classified info.”

“I gave her your address.” Chloe held up a hand and Keith heaved a sigh.

“Thank you Brutus.”

“You had it coming,” you pointed out, “But forget about that for a second, okay? I think I just found our strategy. We’re going to use me as a bait.”

“What?”

“That’s how I’ll meet him. We will put me in a dangerous position and he will…” you tried to ignore the bitter taste at the back of your throat, “He will have to save me.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said, “He will help you and you will use that to lure him, did I get that right?”

“Exactly,” you grinned, “What better way to manipulate a hero than to give him somebody to save?”

She blinked a couple of times, then turned to Keith.

“Honestly, in times like these I wonder why I’m friends with you guys,” she commented, “Do you have any idea why on earth I’m friends with you?”

He shrugged his shoulders,

“I don’t know,” he said, “Because we’re fun when we’re not diabolical?”

***

The plan was pretty simple, it would look like a robbery gone wrong. You would be accompanied by one of the lower ranking agents who would pose as a robber so that if he got caught while getting away, it would pose no threat to your cover afterwards, not to mention it couldn’t be traced back to you or the operation.

Of course, you had to make sure that Bucky would stay behind and meet you while Wilson chased the bad guy off. Based on your observations on Wilson, saving people always came first rather than punishing the other person, he put the safety of innocents before anything else, so you had to find a way for them to think Wilson was more suitable for the chase.

Motorcycle. The rookie agent would get away on a motorcycle, which would require Wilson to use his wings to gain speed on him.

But God, you just hated playing the damsel in distress.

“I just want to say I’m honored that you picked me for this mission,” the agent was almost buzzing with excitement in the back alley while you waited until Wilson and Barnes was anywhere within hearing distance. “I heard- I heard so much about you Shrike. Ma’am.”

You leaned your back to the wall, crossing your arms.

“Is it true that you once killed a target using just a pencil?” he asked, “Or that you took down five armed people with a dagger?”

You turned your head to look at him better, amusement making you smile.

“Or- or that you can get information out of someone in just five minutes?” he held his breath, “Or that your father-“

“Don’t talk about my father.” You cut him off, the harsh command leaving your lips almost too fast and you felt the slight guilt pulling at your heartstrings before you shook your head.

“You’re a good shot, right?” you asked, “I don’t want to get the bullet stuck in my arm, you’ll just graze me.”

“I’m a great shot ma’am, top of my class.”

“And you need to make it look believable. Remember, if Wilson catches you—“

“He will take me to the nearest police station, and I will stay there until an agent is sent to pick me up. But do you want me to get caught?”

“Try not to,” you shrugged your shoulders “But if he does, don’t worry about it. He has no reason to believe it’s anything more than some mugging.”

His phone beeped and he checked it, then took a deep breath, “Barnes and Wilson are within hearing distance. Are you ready?”

“Let’s do this,” you said and he grabbed his gun, then pointed it at your arm. You cleared your throat, looking over your shoulder before you turned to him and let out a very high scream, probably enough to reach the people nearby. He pulled the trigger and the gunshot echoed through the alley, a burning spreading all over your arm and making you fall to your knees.

“Are you okay?” he stepped closer to you and you tried to catch your breath.

“Go!” you hissed and he ran to the motorcycle before he rode away and as soon as he was out of your sight, Barnes and Wilson ran to the alley and you started sobbing, holding onto your arm which throbbed in pain.

Good news was he was a good shot, and he had managed to only graze you. But considering that your cover was a civilian, you doubted civilians were used to gunshot wounds, so you had to make it dramatic.

“Ma’am?” Wilson rushed to you with Barnes following him and you tried to breathe through sobs.

“Thank God, please help me—“ you sniffled and looked at the other side of the alley, breathing fast, “He took my wallet, and-and he had a motorcycle…”

“On it. Buck, stay with her.” Wilson said and ran out of the alley as Barnes crouched down to your level while you kept panting, your knees pulled to your chest, leaning back to the wall.

“Hi,” he smiled at you softly and you took a trembling breath, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Hello,” you managed to say as he stole a look at your arm before his eyes snapped back to yours.

“I’m Bucky,” he said, “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Can I look at your arm, Y/N?”

You pursed your lips together, pretending to consider it before you raised your hand so that he could see the graze on your upper arm. He furrowed his brows for a moment, and carefully lifted your arm to see it better under the street lights while you sniffled again.

“Am I—am I going to die?” you stammered and he let out a small chuckle.

“No,” he said, “No you won’t. It’s just a graze, it doesn’t even look like it’ll need stitches. I promise.”

“But how do you know?”

“Let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of arm injuries.”

You tried to keep the look of confusion on your face before you slowly averted your gaze from him to his metal wrist and you gasped, your jaw dropping as if you were distracted from the pain.

“Bucky? As in Bucky Barnes?” you asked, “Wait, no. Right? Can’t be.”

A look of regret flashed over his face, apparently he thought that would scare you but lucky for you, you had seen it coming while coming up with a strategy.

“I heard about you!” you said, “You fought against Thanos!”

He was taken aback at the fact that you didn’t accuse him of anything his head was obviously swarming with, and that would be the one thing you could base your whole plan on.

In order to make him fall in love with you and trust you, you had to act like you trusted him, act like you had little to no knowledge of the dark side of his past. Naïve civilian girl with a soft heart was the perfect cover because as far as you could tell from his file, Bucky Barnes just wanted to come back home from war.

He had been looking for something he could call his home for decades now and you’d let him believe you were his home until your orders told you otherwise.

“That’s it?” he asked when you didn’t continue and you pulled your brows together.

“Hm?”

“That’s all you…all you wanted to say?”

“Right—” you took a deep breath, “Right, I’m sorry. Thank you for all you’ve done, for saving the world.”

“No no, I didn’t mean—“ he stopped himself, “That wasn’t what I meant. Trust me, you shouldn’t be thanking me.”

“Well I am though,” you winced when you moved your arm before turning your head to check the dark alley “Bucky? Do you… do you think that robber would come back?”

“Sam’s got it covered.” he assured you, “Don’t worry. He’s not getting away, and he’s definitely not coming back here.”

“Okay.” You murmured and wiped at your eye again with the back of your free hand before you clutched at your arm again, a sob tearing itself from your chest. “God, it just—it hurts so bad...”

He shushed you gently, “I know it does sweetheart. Let’s get you to the hospital so that it will stop hurting, alright?”

Ah.

Even by 40s standards, sweetheart was a good sign.

You shook your head, “But I can’t go to the hospital.”

“Why not?”

“I’m on a budget.”

He blinked a couple of times, “Come again?”

“I don’t have enough money for the hospital. I’m sure if I put a band aid on it or something it’d work, you said it wouldn’t need stitches and there’s a pharmacy right around the corner you see—”

“That’s not how bullet wounds work, let’s go.” He helped you up but you stumbled into him, letting him catch you as you looked up at him.

“I apologize, I just feel dizzy…” you said and he smiled softly.

“Don’t worry about it,” his voice was soothing, “You think you can walk? I can carry you.”

“No I can—I can walk,” you stammered and let him lead you out of the alley, his arm wrapped around your waist tight before he looked down at you.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured to himself, then he took off his jacket to put it over your shoulders. You pulled the oversized jacket tighter around you, brushing the sleeve over your forehead to push back your hair and only when he turned to stop a taxi you let a tiny smirk pull at your lips despite the throbbing on your arm.

Well, your superiors were going to be pleased. The first part of the mission was done.

Now all you had to do was make him fall in love with you.

Chapter 4

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #the falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagines #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #tfatws #fatws

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rosecaffelatte · 4 years ago

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sharing is caring | yamagata hayato

plot: just when you think you can let the day end on a happy note with a “quick” stop at a bookstore, you remember your bad habit that has always ruined the fun moments in your life: procrastination. but looks like you’re not the only one who fell victim to that lifestyle...

genre: bookstore au, college au, strangers to flirtationship | fluff | yamagata x gn!reader

cast: yamagata hayato, you, misaki hana, oohira reon

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none

hikki’s notes: i wrote a one shot with 2,215 words in just one day. props to me, honestly. also, this is for day one of the #shiratorizawafanweek2021!

“Hana.”

“I know, I know! Just give me one more minute, okay? Please!” Hana pleads and gives you her best puppy eyes Mother Nature gifted her. She actually thinks that it’ll work every time she wants it her way. Well, she’s right.

“Fine. But this is the last one minute, for real this time!”

She whispers a “thank you” and buries her nose back in the book she’s holding in her hands. In her shopping basket – who the hell needs one in a bookstore?! – she put three other ones already. Whether she still has to “skim” through them or plans on buying them, will be answered in probably three last one minutes.

You’re strolling through the bookshelves for the fifth time – and hopefully last time – and inspect the colorful covers of various books in different genre sections. Some of them do pique your interest, but whenever you pick up a book you’re not forced to read like in school, you instantly get unmotivated. All the letters and words and the repeated alphabet but in a different order, that’s tiring.

“Can we go to the book store for a sec? The latest book of my favorite author just got published and I want to check if it’s already for sale here.”

13 minutes later and you’re still there. It’s kinda your fault for actually falling for Hana’s trap again.

“Maybe you’ll find here something for yourself!”

The most interesting thing here, in your opinion, is the smell of new books and the stationery section with glittery pens and overpriced notebooks you’d only write your name in and leave on your desk at home as unintended decoration.

The store clerk probably thinks that I’m checking out the store to rob it later...

Considering how often you walked past him, picked up a book, and pretended to be interested, yes. Yes, he does. So, don’t mind that intense stare of his on you.

You look at the clock on your phone. It’s already half past 7 in the evening. Under the time – 16 minutes and counting now – you notice the date.

Weird... did I forget something? Something important that is due in a few days?

Slowly, it dawns upon you.

My research paper! 60% of my final grade! Shit!

Whoomps, there it is. That dark playground you’re in when you’re procrastinating once again.

You run over to Hana – “need some book recommendations for my paper I have to hand in in 8 days, help me look when you’re done” – and power walk to the novel section. Yes, a college student like you are has to write a paper about a book that treats profound subjects like the human psyche and morals and, uh– okay, you haven’t really decided on a specific topic to write about yet. It’s for a class you have to take for those 30 extracurricular credit points that have nothing to do with your major.

“It’s to broaden our horizon,” you quietly parrot as you browse through the stacks of books, finding nothing where you can write 20 pages about. Impressive how well you blocked out the assignment the whole time. The book itself is more of a starter and should lead the rest of the assignment to a discussion about... yes.

That I actually have to spend money for this shit...

The guilty conscience gets worse and worse the more you realize that you have 7 days, 4 hours, and 29 minutes left to hand in something that must be worth at least 79% to pass the class. That feeling that can’t let you enjoy the fun things you’re doing instead of writing the assignment like... scrolling on your phone for hours, waiting until the paper writes itself.

You are so invested in mentally cursing out the seminar and the equally pretentious professor that you don’t notice the ruckus from outside coming into the before nearly empty bookstore.

“How could you forget something major like that?!”

“I don’t know! I just procrastinate like every other human being until one week before the deadline, okay?! I’m a normal college student, unlike you!”

“And look what you got yourself into again.” Ōhira shakes his head like a disappointed parent. “Oh yeah, I can’t really help you this time. I have to research for my paper too.”

Yamagata stops in his tracks. “Reon... You can’t do this to me, man. You’re majoring in this shit! I need you. You’re my dude.”

Ōhira stops as well and has to witness his friend despairing over his seemingly decided failure. “I got my own stuff to do, okay? Listen, I can’t promise that I’ll have the time to help you. But I can give you my notes if that helps?”

The only answer he can elicit out of Yamagata was a soulless “hm”. He looks up to his friend when he feels the hand of Ōhira on his shoulder. “Look, we’ll quickly buy one book, go to your place, write your outline, and look for books for your research part in the library. I have to go there too, so let’s just check off as many things as we can today, okay?”

Like a changed person, Yamagata’s face lights up. He puts his arm around Ōhira’s shoulder. “I told you, you’re my dude. Let’s do this!” he proclaims and marched straight to the novel section while Ōhira makes his way to the specialist book section, taking photos of the list of contents for “inspiration”.

I wish I only have to write a book report to pass, Ōhira thinks and lets out a small sigh after he picks up the third book to copy its index.

Meanwhile, Yamagata is going through each book of the novel section at the other side of the store. He slowly works his way towards the middle of the shop, moving along the shelves.

Something short and sweet, something that doesn’t take long too long to read in... the next few hours.

Something where I don’t have to fear I’ll doze off and get the urge to throw it out of the window...

I can’t miss too many hours of training...

Where the heck is Hana?! She probably knows some books that won’t bore me to death.

Wait... this looks nice– Yo... this might be–

As you reach out to a book with a very intriguing cover and the perfect size – super thin and priced with some award – you see from the corner of your eyes another hand reaching out to it as well, but it’s too late to stop now. The warm touch of a stranger’s hand makes you startle, quickly turning your head to the right.

Out of reflex, the corners of your mouth quirk up as you catch sight of the owner of that coarse hand.

Holy shit, he’s hot. Damn.

“Sorry–” “Sorry–” you say in unison.

A nervous giggle escapes your lips while Yamagata unintentionally shoots you this flirty grin of his.

“You want that?” he gently asks.

“Uh, yeah...”

Yamagata gestures with his hand that “It’s all yours” with a big grin on his face that makes your legs feel like pudding.

Where have I seen him before?

“Thanks,” you answer softly as you grab after the book but you notice that “oh, it’s the last copy.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just ask the store clerk if there’s more in the back. Be right back!” He turns around before you can say anything back, leaving you standing there speechless. Finally, Yamagata can let out his grin he’s trying to hide from– wait.

Oh shit, I’ve been smiling the whole time? Whatever, they liked it. His smile grows wider. Guess procrastination does have its perks. But they look kinda familiar...

Meanwhile, you’re overthinking what he just said. H-He probably just said it out of habit, nothing more. Stop imagining things.

You start flipping through the pages. You should slowly realize that you can always rely on your gut feeling. The book is perfect! Not too boring, not too long, actually addressing very interesting aspects for your next seminar paper topic. The titles of your future chapters are flashing through your head, concepts you can introduce and develop are forming right in front of you. Nice!

You are so invested in the book that you don’t notice Hana walking towards you with her eyes fixed on her phone. “Okay, so I made a quick Google search and found literature I reserved from our library and– oh, you already found something?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, it’s act–”

“Uh, sorry to interrupt your talk, but that’s the last copy they have.” You and Hana turn to Yamagata who’s sheepishly scratching the back of his head. Hana turns back to you, asking you with her eyes and her smile what that very handsome stranger is talking about. Ōhira notices his friend talking with to him unfamiliar faces and walks over to you, see what’s going on.

“Huh...” Welp, that’s going to be fun.

Yamagata doesn’t want to ask, but his final grade is at stake, even if it means that he’ll ruin his chance with such a cutie like you. “Okay, listen to me, please. I really need that book for an assignment. I-I can buy it for you! And I can give it to you later in a week.”

Aww, how gentleman-like! Or is this just an act of desperation? Whatever, he’s cute regardless, but...

“Uhm, funny story, but uh” – that’s so uncomfortable – “I also need it for my paper for my final grade...”

Silence. Awkwardness. Yikes.

Well, I guess you can say that this is your punishment for procrastinating your responsibilities once again. Fate, Buddha, the universe, or whatever tries to ruin your once-in-a-lifetime “reaching out for the same book and falling in love or flirting at first sight”-moment. God damnit.

Hana begins to speak, “I’m sorry, but what exactly is your paper about?”

Yamagata looks back at you two after avoiding your glance. “It’s basically a book report, kinda,” he chuckles. It does sound ridiculous, coming from a college student.

“Great! Because my friend has to write one too, kinda,” Hana proclaims to your confusion.

That’s it!

“Oh! You’re were my class last year!” “Oh! You’re were my class last year!” you both say and laugh.

“Wait, there are two professors who just want a book report for a pass?” Yamagata wonders.

“A 20-page long one, yeah,” you chuckle.

“Well, that’s great! That means that you can share it, right?” Hana tentatively suggests.

“Why not?” Ōhira asks. “You both have to read and analyze the book, so why not do it together?”

Please say yes. Then I can work on my assignment and leave you without a guilty conscience.

“You’re saving a lot of time by doing it like that! And you do need time,” Hana adds, quickly glancing at you.

You do.

The slightly aggressive undertone in Hana’s last sentence doesn’t escape your notice. She did have to give you a hand whenever you put your responsibilities into cold storage. You know that you can always rely on her help but at some point, you really gotta learn your lesson. But studying with some hot guy you just met in a bookstore doesn’t necessarily teach you a lesson.

“Uh, sure, why not?” You shrug with your shoulders and look over to your possibly new study partner.

“No problem with that,” Yamagata says and gives you another big smile. “Can I get your number? For the paper, of course.”

“Huh? Y-Yeah, of course, sure!” You are so not ready for his sudden move, and so are Hana and his friend. Hana never has been comfortable with showing affection and flirtation in public, even if it’s not with her. Ōhira looks like he wants to facepalm himself because his friend is picking up random people when he’s in an actual stressful situation.

After you pay for the book – you split the costs – and leave the shop minutes before it closes, you let your two friends go home since you have the same destination after book shopping.

Both Hana and Ōhira go through a mix of emotions on their way home: relief that they can leave their friend alone with their assignment, shame because they feel like they’re bad friends for thinking like that, general confusion because they let their best friend go with basically a stranger to work on a paper together, and awkwardness because Hana and Ōhira are both going into the same direction but Ōhira is, of course, so considerate and doesn’t let her go to her bus station alone in the dark.

“So, you’re... Yamagata,” you say as you read out the name under which he saved himself in your phone.

“That’s my name, Y/N,” he chuckles. “So, should we go to the library then? They’re open until 1 AM,” Yamagata proposes.

“Sure. I just imagined our first date a little bit different...” You catch a glimpse of Yamagata who’s taken aback a little from your comment but also catches himself quickly you can see at his reassuring smile and slightly flirty look.

“A study date, of course,” you add, giving him a knowing look.

This is going to be a long night. A long study session,

“Of course.”

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shouldntcryoverit · 4 years ago

Text

the art of discordance

a captain rex x jedi fic during clone wars era :))

no warnings i think uh yeah hope you enjoy let me know ig...

next chapter

CHAPTER ONE -

A new general. That’s what the rookies had heard, though Rex was reluctant to believe the Jedi Council had the guts to replace Skywalker. After a good few months, the captain had learnt of his general’s unique ‘disposition’, and getting a new general to step in was what he least expected.

That was until the ship landed just outside their camp and she walked out. Even from his position sitting further back on some crates, Rex could make out the figure, identifying her as one of the jedi knights, though which one escaping him. Perhaps the rumours were true.

He watched as she walked closer, hands placed purposefully and eyes wandering over the other two jedi in front of her. The commander crossed her arms defensively, though her master seemed unbothered by her arrival, excited even.

“master?” Ahsoka coughed

“oh snips!” Skywalker bleated with the same enthusiasm he had wagered throughout the interaction “this is Jaida Reyes”

“the one from your padwan stories?” Ahsoka said with smug conviction

“my reputation precedes me” her accent was crisp and calm, though her tone radiated a coolness that Ahsoka couldn’t help but feel distanced by “though i’d rather be known for my skills with a lightsaber than helping Akin steal from Obi-wan”

Ahsoka held back a snicker as Rex walked up to the three, absent minded as he double checked his comm.

“General Skywalker, we have the new coordinates” His attention tried hard to divert to the new face.

“ah thank you” Anakin turned to his friend “this is my captain, Rex”

Rex nodded at his introduction.

“i’m the new co-general, General Reyes” her face settled into the beginnings of a smile, but faultered and remained her neutral, placid gaze.

The young jedi watched with focused eyes as they walked the short distance towards the briefing tent. Already her presence seemed to spark rumours among the men, and she watched as the younger looking troopers sent her inspecting looks. It was to be expected, honestly she never wanted a big formal introduction, but she didn’t know that her arrival would breach the news so quickly.

When they arrived, the tent was half full. An open and decorated holo map was in the centre, with at least two clones at each marked entrance point.

“Boys” Skywalker called “we have a visitor”

She rolled her eyes slightly at the flamboyant gesture, but stepped forward anyway. “I’m General Reyes, apparently Skywalker wasn’t trusted enough to run his own battalion, so i got called in” Her hands rested behind her back, but a small grin encroached her face as the snipe made a few troopers smirk.

“excuse my fellow jedi, she’s never been good at taking second place” Anakin fired back, earning another set of grins.

Reyes crossed her arms as her smiling face resumed the same placcid one she’d kept previously. “i have heard nothing but good things, and i look forward to serving with you.”

The Captain moved forward from the side of the room and clicked to change the holo map, it made a small beep as he did.

“The 212th met a settlement of droids over this side of the ridge. Last report was that they were able to move forward at the threat subsided.”

“so what does that mean for us?” Jaida’s brows furrowed as Rex layed the plans out for her. Already her mind was scoping escape routes and vantage points, but she remained seemingly unbothered by the conflict describes. Rex couldn’t help but feel unmotivated by her apparent lack of interest.

“our initial plan was to take out the last forces left on the planet after the seppie defeat, but intelligence believed the 212th accidentally did it for us”

She scoffed “so we’re here for a clean up?”

“hope you brought something fun to do” Ahsoka scorned.

The efforts were limited within the first hour. Already the men were tired of the same scenery and nothing but expansive flats. The sun stood high in the sky, illuminating the landscape in a orange hue. It wasn’t hot nor cold, everything about the mission mediocre, something Reyes particularly hated. It wasn’t just her with an annoyance, she could sense the captain’s distrust. She understood it, only hoped it wouldn’t comprimise her efficiency.

As if nothing interesting was ever going to happen, a yell from a trooper a little further ahead broke the methodical thump of the machinery.

Soon followed was the sound of gun fire. Each shot was slow, until finally the enemy was visible.

“Find cover!”

“you did say you wanted action” Anakin quipped, earning an actual chuckle from her usual pursed lips. It almost caught Rex off guard.

It was unavoidable, the lack of cover meant the men were almost completely exposed, accept for the three jedi that stepped forward, sabers ignited.

Reyes was a new sight, though she didn’t look out of place on the battle field. Her lighsaber was different, instead of the usual one blade, hers had two, both green and glowing as she tactically spun it round and round, catching blasts as if it were sport. Even her fighting style seemed new, she fought with elegance and structure, each blow purposeful and strong.

Her focus was planted entirely on the enemy ahead, so much so that she failed to notice the trooper settling down beside her.

“karking droids, never seem to die” she muttered, deflecting a few more blasts.

A muffled laugh came from beside her and the familiar blue and white etched her vision.

“I’d get used to it general” a trooper grinned

Jaida turned and grimaced, an offering of acceptance. As she refocused her mind to the task at hand, a thought slipped through.

“trooper, get those three and come with me”

Her request caught the clone beside her off guard, but he complied none the least.

The five of them rounded behind the line of defence, all the way to their republic.

“uh, sir, what are we doing?” a soldier with a hand print on his chest asked, gingerly as the new, seemingly scary, general climbed onto the side.

“if i can prime the ignition gear and jinx the starter cable, I can force it into their ranks and it’ll, with any luck,” she popped her head up with a half devilish grin “turn them all into scrap parts”

It was the trooper with the cog on his helment that relaxed first “heh, they teach you that at the temple?” he quipped

“nope” she gestured for them to cover her as she popped open the side “they taught me it on florrum” she said with a smirk, before diving back into the mess of wires and sparks.

Jaida’s plan worked, and effectively too. After a very short battle, the men finished their sweep and prepared to bid the timeless campaign fairwell.

Once back on the ship, most clones settled down for the trip back to Coruscant, and Reyes followed suit, though only subtly checking that everyone was well and okay, before continuing her sweep on the ration packs. After she deemed her check satisfactory, she retreated to the command rooms. The door slid open and revealed Rex standing over a report, absent minded to say the least. His shoulders tensed momentarily as the door swooshed, and she noticed the sour taste that seemed to flood his tongue when he met her eyes.

Jaida cleared her throat, and planted fists against the table, propping herself up.

“i’m sorry, we lost men” Jaida spoke calmly, slightly softer than her usual tone.

“with all due respect sir, you don’t seem all that bothered.” Rex mentioned.

“captain” “it’s not something i’ve grown accustomed too yet” Jaida countered, though her argument didn’t cause Rex’s stance to loosen. She cleared her throat

“i’ve lost people before, and I know what it’s like to loose someone in battle, though i don’t know what it’s like to loose your brothers. i did not want this” her tone was instructive, but it softened all the same and her true compassion fell through.

Rex paused for a moment and met her eyes again “i shouldn’t have blamed you, my apologies, general”

“relax, captain��

“it’s uh, Rex, sir” he corrected. It was when he lifted his hands to the side of his helmet that Jaida realised she had never actually seen his face. It came off, and revealed a strong jaw and cheek bones, all toned perfectly set. His eyebrows arched above his eyes, a slightly different shade of golden brown than his brothers. Of course the main difference was his hair colour, short and stark blonde.

“Jaida” her response made Rex frown ”if i have to call you by your name you have to call me by mine. Jaida” she explained

“sounds fair”

“good” she smiled for the first time, and Rex liked it.

————————————

The night after an assignment was always filled with either anecdotes or silence, a relief or devastating. Jaida watched as the men loitered around crates of rations and equipment, all with distant smiles; tired.

She had previously been stuck at the medbay after the medics caught sight of her, a few gashes on her cheeks the real cause - nothing bacta wouldn’t heal, but she learnt quickly of their head medic, Kix, and his ability to scare even Jedi into looking after themselves. After making peace with the captain, a warmth had begun to spread about her.

Now, she stood against the cold duraplast walls of the Resolute, picking aimlessly at the scarce red dirt left on her hands.

“You okay Jay?” the question broke her mindless thought.

“yeah, i am” she looked up to her friend knowingly, Anakin grinning as he always did.

“Generals!” a trooper with geometric tattoos called out “come sit with us”

She turned her head sharply and gazed over the haphazard array of lounging clones

“I ought to check the ration packs” she tried to excuse.

“you should take one sir” Another clone encourage lazily “deserve it after that rescue”

She blinked for a second, unsure if it would make more sense to agree or deny. Before she said yes or no, Anakin had already collected her on his way to his own seat in the game.

Jaida sauntered over and handed each clone a bar before taking one herself, sitting down cross leggedly just as graceful as she did anything.

“sir, i don’t like it” she spoke between chews “name’s Jaida”

“well, Jaida, general’s told us a little about your career together, got any stories?”

“many” Jaida gave the first ghost of a smile any of them had seen from her yet, however small it may have been, and lent backwards against another log “Anakin ever told you about the time we climbed to the very top of the temple walls?”

#captain rex #captain rex x reader #clone wars #501stlegion #anakin skywalker #the clone wars #rex x reader #commander rex

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derireo · 4 years ago

Text

the workaholic ↦ tsumugi, tasuku, itaru, izumi

There was a reason why Izumi worked so hard.

A look into Izumi's self-worth and repressed memories.

「 3.3k words 」

cw: angst, hurt (no comfort), family issues. can be connected to my same age troupe series but doesn’t have to be.

Izumi didn't really like staying at home anymore.

Not after her dad left and her mom had to start juggling more jobs in order for them to have a few meals a week while on top of that paying for their bills.

She'd stay a little longer at school, hang around the lonely alleyways and shortcuts that ran along the neighbourhood, sit inside convenience stores until evening.

Just so that she wouldn't have to go back to an empty home.

Her passion for the things she used to love died out too, and she eventually quit her extracurriculars, including her theatre class.

She was grateful that she learned how to care for herself when she was young, but it was tiring. She didn't have enough clothes to wash when her mom rarely came home. There was no point in using the dishes if she was the only one eating. And if it meant saving more money, she wouldn't even turn the lights on in any of the rooms. Not even the washroom.

There were very few times when her mom would be able to spend the night at home with her, but again, there were few.

Izumi wanted to feel happy, seeing her mom's face, but it was hard when she always looked so tired. So angry.

They rarely talked when her mom was home, but Izumi would still cook her dinner and clean her room before she'd tuck in for the night.

And there were just some times when Izumi didn't want to be in her presence at all.

"You never do anything in this house." Her mom said one night in passing as Izumi was gathering their empty bowls.

The sentence caught Izumi off guard, making her pause in her ministrations. She looked up from the table to look at her mom in curiosity, and was met with an aggravated frown.

"All you do is stay out late and eat all the food that I work hard to put on the table." She complained quietly, tapping her finger against the wood that they sat at. "I don't recall you ever doing anything for this house."

"Mom, I–" Izumi's laugh was one out of pure disbelief, but her mother didn't let her finish.

"You're so useless.. You do nothing all day and complain about school and how you're always tired. You don't do anything. I'm the one working three jobs, for Chrissake." Her mom laughed in turn and ran a hand through her hair, standing up from the table with an exhausted shake of her head.

"I have work tomorrow. I'm leaving at four." She finished, standing to leave for her room. "Ungrateful brat."

And well; Izumi couldn't really say anything anyways. She took in a breath and made her way to the sink after she heard a door shut, a cold chill slowly running up her spine.

Her mom wasn't wrong. She wished she could do more, really.

"Welcome! Is this a job application?" A middle aged man bowed towards Izumi who held a neat folder for him to take, nodding her head to answer his question.

He opened the folder as Izumi clutched the strap to her schoolbag tightly. The man squinted at the few things on her resume and scratched his neck, offering Izumi an uneasy smile when he handed the file of papers back to her.

"You have all the traits we're looking for in a new employee," he said kindly, "but I fear you're too young for me to hire. I couldn't give you night shifts and graveyard like you asked anyway."

Izumi sighed, having already known the outcome. But she just couldn't let it go.

"I need this job." She said quietly, bunching the strap she held in her hand with a death grip. "I want to help ease my mom's burden."

And as much as she didn't want to use the guilt card, she really wanted the job. If it gave her an excuse not to be home, she'd gladly take it.

There was a frown, a pinch of the nose, and a sigh.

Suddenly, Izumi was being asked for her folder again and she quickly gave it back, her sad, doe eyes slowly regaining a bit of light.

"I'll send an email if I manage to get you the job." The middle aged man sighed once more, waving off a surprised Izumi who nearly shouted. "..Now go home."

"Thank you, Mister!" She saluted, regaining some newfound energy she never knew she had.

And with that, for the first time in months, did she go home before sunset.

She got the email a few days later during class. She was opening and closing her fliphone with a bored expression on her face as her teacher went to explain the difference between kanji and hiragana.

> From: [email protected] – I got you the job. Training starts next week at 4pm.

Izumi almost shouted. Almost.

What she did do was drop her phone in surprise, her legs jolting up and clambering against her desk. The loud noise obviously disturbed everyone around her and she floundered when her teacher glared.

"Something interesting happening over there, Tachibana?" He grouched with a frown, to which the classmates around her either giggled or whispered as she fumbled to grab her phone from the floor.

Her smile was elated, but at the same time panicked, and she shook her head in denial. Shoving her phone into her skirt pocket (that she had to sew in herself), Izumi straightened her tie.

"No, Sir. Just a rat startling me."

And like many other times, Izumi was the starter of chaos, everyone in the room beginning to panic at the idea of having a real rat inside of the school.

The class ended with all of the desks in disarray, and a flustered Izumi bowing in apology to her teacher who had his arms crossed.

And Izumi absolutely loved her job. Although it was busy on weekdays because students would visit after school, she loved the rush; she loved feeling like she was doing something.

She loved the feeling of being useful.

Time would fly by as if she was only working for an hour so; sometimes she wouldn't even want to leave once the next worker would come in for their shift.

She was a fast learner too, and her manager, that middle aged man, would watch with an impressed expression on his face.

Graveyard shift was another thing, but if it meant Izumi wouldn't have to be stuck home alone with her thoughts, she'd take any day they had to offer.

It was a boring shift, usually receiving visits from overworked business men or the occasional drunkard who needed something to sober up.

There were a few times where she'd have customers who were around her age; kind of odd, but at the same time not really.

There was one guy her age who would visit at around midnight to three in the morning, and a duo that would come by at six-thirty sharp.

"Energy drinks again? Chigasaki-san." She would scold the boy who donned a pair of glasses and their school's tracksuit.

His visit was always quick, and he never opened his mouth to speak to her after the night he introduced himself that one time.

"I see Takato-san has dragged you out again." She would comment when the two boys would stalk in; the taller one buying water bottles while the blue haired one would eat a breakfast snack.

The interesting thing with this duo was that, the blue haired boy would stay inside and accompany Izumi while the other would perform his daily morning jog; something that the young girl found distasteful.

"Are you sure you'll be okay going to school?" The boy would ask her every day he visited. He found out that when Izumi did graveyard shifts on a Sunday or weekday, she would head to school right after, not even bothering to take a nap or a break.

And to put the blue haired boy's mind to rest, the other friend would walk in; barely having broken a sweat: "We can walk her there. Let's go."

And this duo– she thought she would forever be grateful for them. They took care of her whenever she was barely able to herself; walking her home after they finished their classes at their own school and helping her with her assignments before forcing her to go to sleep on the days she didn't have graveyard.

But the thing was, when she met those three again while trying to revive the theatre her father left neglected, she didn't seem to remember any of them.

Meeting Itaru Chigasaki again was like meeting him for the first time, and he was surprised, but at the same time not. With how often he visited her konbini back then, maybe he would have stuck in her subconscious, but, maybe not. He didn't try to make conversation with her back then anyways so he couldn't blame Izumi for anything.

Meeting Tasuku Takato and Tsumugi Tsukioka again was much the same for her.

Tsumugi was devastated that she couldn't remember them, and Tasuku, annoyed.

"Oh. I don't really remember anything that happened during my high school days." Izumi had said in passing one afternoon when Muku asked her if she had experienced anything similar to the story of Ouran High School Host Club.

There was an incredulous gasp from Muku, saying that it shouldn't be possible. High school was probably a significant time in your life when you were still young!

"I just remember working and studying a lot. And I rarely stayed at home?" She answered him with a question and frowned, scratching her head. "It kept me busy because the house was always empty and I had nothing better to do."

"Eh? So then how did you get back into theatre?" Tenma asked from his side of the couch, squinting at Izumi through the sunglasses he didn't bother taking off after coming home.

"When Sakyo gave me no other choice but to save the company."

"But there was also the letter that Matsukawa sent, right?" Sakuya piped up, tilting his head. "I feel we would have been in a lot of trouble if she never got it."

"Yeah, I don't even remember what I was doing before I got that letter, honestly. It had nothing to do with theatre that's for sure." Izumi scratched her cheek.

Speechless, Tasuku plopped himself down in the chair that sat beside Izumi's side of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Do you remember anything between the ages of fifteen and nineteen?" He inquired, frown etched onto his face as both he and Tsumugi shot each other a look from either side of the room.

Itaru chewed at his granola bar with an unreadable expression on his face, but secretly anticipated Izumi's answer just like everyone else.

"Not really." She responded slowly, looking over at the man who sat beside her. Tasuku huffed out a breath; already giving up on receiving a satisfying answer.

"Do you remember any friends from high school?" Tsumugi inquired next, resulting in an excitable nod from Muku who had regained his energy.

Izumi frowned.

"I didn't have any."

Itaru sighed; feeling like they were going nowhere with all of this nonsense and beating around the bush.

"Yes you did." The blond argued albeit not as aggressive as he wanted to.

He couldn't be upset or annoyed when he didn't even try to become friends with her back then. He recalled the many nights he ignored her after their first meeting, never looking into her eyes as she tried to start a conversation with him.

But even if he wasn't her friend, he at least knew that Tasuku and Tsumugi were. He'd see them walk her to school every single morning and watch as they'd tentatively walk away as Izumi got scolded for the umpteenth time for arriving so late.

Izumi fell silent at Itaru's response and awkwardly crossed her arms over her chest; becoming defensive at his tone.

"How would you know?" She tried to keep her voice level, but she sounded small and embarrassed.

Tenma, Muku, and Sakuya began to frown at this new side of the director.

Tsumugi decided to pipe up at this time, eager to let the attention on the director snap towards him.

He gripped at his wristwatch with meekness riddling his features as he spoke. "Tasuku and I were your best friends in high school."

And then the lounge room went silent.

Tasuku visibly relaxed in his seat once the cat was out of the bag, and the three younger members with them whipped their heads to look between the Winter Pair in shock.

Izumi's face warmed.

"That isn't right." She shook her head and shrunk into the couch; still in disbelief. If that were the case, she wouldn't have said she didn't have any friends in the first place.

She wasn't exactly the best person to be around in high school and she always struggled to be interesting. How could she have friends when all she did was work, work, work?

How could she have friends when it felt like she'd been alone her whole life?

It...didn't make sense.

Not to Izumi at least.

"I didn't have time to make friends." She murmured, wrapping her arms around herself to get rid of the sad chill that crawled up her arms. "And the ones I had before left me when I quit theatre."

Tasuku pinched his nose between his fingers while Itaru flipped his phone in his hand several times, Tsumugi watching the gears turn in Izumi's head only to end up with them stuttering and breaking down.

Was she only remembering the bad things? Or was she repressing memories that she didn't want to remember?

...Did she want to forget them?

Tsumugi anxiously tapped his fingers against his knee. "You don't remember us."

"I don't think I've ever seen you two before I came to Veludo." Izumi twisted her fingers in the fabric of her sleeves. "Itaru made it sound like we knew each other too which is weird."

To Tsumugi it seemed like her brain was refusing access to this specific part of her life; the memories so heavily blocked that she couldn't retrieve them. Couldn't remember them.

Her high school days were so bad that she grew to learn how to send them all the way to the back of her mind; never to be seen again.

It was like she was experiencing repressed memory...

And, well, Tsumugi understood the severity of that at the very least.

Tasuku and Itaru on the other hand couldn't understand.

They couldn't find themselves to.

"I don't think there's a point to this conversation anymore." The violet eyed man resigned with a hint of aggravation swirling around his tone.

It looked like he was seething from where he sat beside Izumi, strong arms curled around his chest as his glaring eyes stared at Tsumugi who had an expression full of sadness.

"If it was that easy to forget us after all those years spent together then I don't want to hear anymore of this."

Tsumugi could feel the hairs on his arm stand at the icy tone lacing Tasuku's voice.

"Just let her explain why—"

"Why? Why what?" Tasuku tittered. His blood was starting to boil; he could feel the steam coming out of his ears.

It was unfair. Along with Tsumugi he spent four years taking care of Izumi only for her to forget them? Those early mornings and late nights they spent with her to make sure she was staying alive wasn't enough to have them ingrained in her brain?

She was ungrateful enough to forget all they had done for her? Feed her meals, keep her company, help her forget that she was alone?

She was like family to them. Was it not the same for her?

If she left the company, would she forget them a second time?

They never knew where she went after graduation.

"She was barely able to do anything back then. Who helped her pass sciences, math, and the like? Who helped her in literature? Comprehension?" Tasuku listed off angrily, unable to notice the way Izumi was shrinking in her seat while at the same time staring off into space.

It was like her ears were filled with cotton.

"Who carried her home every single night when she was barely able to stand from exhaustion? Who fed her meals to make sure she wasn't starving?" The Winter Troupe member continued, vision going red with anger as he remembered all of the times a limp Izumi would hang off his back.

Remembered the tears that would stain the back of his uniform.

He shook his head.

"I've never met someone so damn ungrateful. She would've been useless without us, Tsumugi." The exasperation in his voice was clear.

Izumi pursed her lips, ears picking up the words like she was resurfacing from a huge body of water.

"Tasuku." Tsumugi scolded—

Useless. Izumi mused.

His anger was understandable. If what all that Tasuku had said was true, she couldn't blame the betrayal and hurt they felt.

But as much as she wanted to remember, she couldn't pick anything up from her high school days.

What else could she remember other than the feeling of coming back to an empty home and a mother who ignored her existence?

...Tasuku was right.

But it still hurt.

She tried to ignore the words Tasuku was spewing in order to save herself, but it was futile.

She was useless for not being able to remember.

She was useless for not doing anything.

Useless for doing everything she could and it still not being enough.

What even was considered enough?

Stop thinking.

The empty house. The molding walls. The lonely bed.

Her mother—

Fuck! Just snap out of it.

"Er...Sorry." She laughed to cover up the fact that she was on the verge of tears. She shook as she struggled to get off the couch. Her sudden apology made Tasuku stiffen as Tsumugi and Itaru watched their director with shocked expressions.

The weight of the situation suddenly felt real. Very real.

Should— should they look away? Tenma, Muku, and Sakuya had already left once Tasuku went on his mini rampage because they were terrified of what was to come.

So it was only the four adults left.

"I just remembered something." She pointed her thumb behind her in the direction of the hallway, smiling as she did so. "I'm backstage crew for this theatre's rehearsal tonight, so... I have to go get ready."

She bowed deeply to the three men who sat there in stunned silence, profusely bending her body so that she wouldn't show her face as she backed away, only swiftly turning around when she reached the hallway.

"I'll offer her a ride." Itaru spoke up after a good minute of silence and stood up from his spot on the couch.

Silence blanketed the lounge room like a cloud wrapping around an airplane once the blonde left to grab his keys from mini table beside the stairs.

Tasuku brought his hand to his face to hopefully wipe away the stress that was riddling his features.

The rattle of Izumi's own keys were heard down the hallway, footsteps rushed as papers rustled in her hands while she bolted towards the stairs.

"Izumi, I can drive—" Itaru murmured once her hand reached the railing of the stairs, but was interrupted by her wavering voice.

"I don't need it. I'll be fine." She laughed a little, just to ease Itaru's worries if he had any but refused to look him in the eye as she walked down the stairs. "I'll call, if anything."

Itaru twirled his keys back into his palm and cleared his throat. Yeah, that's fine.

"Stay safe." He called out in his soft spoken voice.

"Yeah." Came her response, then the sound of the front door slamming shut.

He shuffled towards the kitchen window not too long after, to see Izumi sprinting down the street with a teary grimace.

Huh. He recalled a time when he came across a similar expression up on the school's rooftop.

But he had left her there just as quick as he had come.

#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#act! addict! actors!#tasuku takato #tsumugi tsukioka #itaru chigasaki #izumi tachibana #dr: same age troupe #?

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avaantares · 5 years ago

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Artemis FOUL: A Disney+ Dumpster Fire

Soooo it had been a kind of rough week for a variety of reasons, and a few of my friends/family wanted to kick back and do something mindless over the weekend, so we ordered pizza from one of our favorite local places, I set up a screen and projector in the driveway, and we had an outdoor/socially-distant movie night. Since several of us had read the books, we decided to watch the new Artemis Fowl movie on Disney+.

We knew from the trailer and its 10% rating on Rotten Tomatoes that it was not going to be a good movie. But I had not been prepared for... uh... what is quite possibly the single worst film I have seen released in YEARS. I can’t imagine this insult to cinema having an actual theatrical release (which it was intended to, before the pandemic shut down theatres). I haven’t seen the Cats movie, but I imagine this aggregation of waterfowl* could give it a run for its money.

Not only is it a bad adaptation of the books (and by “adaptation,” I mean they used a couple of names; the story and characters are utterly unrecognizable), but the script is like something a teenager would turn in for a class assignment. No, scratch that -- I’ve actually read better writing by teenagers. Plot points are explained to the audience three or four times by both characters and frame-story narrator (apparently the writers thought viewers were dumb and wouldn’t catch on?). There are missing connecting scenes. The villain is actually played by three different actors using a hood and voice modulation, because apparently they couldn’t decide whom to cast in the role. There are multiple significant plot threads that never get wrapped up. The pacing is a mess. The characters are devoid of personality or charisma. There is some truly hideous CGI.

But all of that is just (grossly) bad filmmaking. The film is worse than that -- in fact, in light of current events, it comes across as not only tone-deaf, but actively offensive.

I’m sure someone in an office somewhere thought it would be a good idea to mix up the casting of book characters a bit, to add some diversity. At first glance, this seems like a good idea: LEP Recon commander Julius Root has been switched to a female role, played by Dame Judi Dench, and Artemis’s bodyguard Domovoi Butler and his sister Juliet are played by Black actors Nonso Anozie and Tamara Smart, respectively.

Don’t get me wrong -- I am actively in favor of diverse casts and strong female roles. The problem here is 100% in the execution. Because I think we can all agree that bad representation can be even more harmful than no representation at all, and this is some bad representation.

For starters, Juliet -- a kickass martial artist in the books -- has been stepped back to being Butler’s Domovoi’s 12-year-old niece. (The movie is insistent that he is not to be called Butler, which might pass for awareness if not for the rest of the script. In the books, it’s actually a characterization point that he is only to be called Butler; in fact, Artemis doesn’t even learn his given name until book 3.) When this younger Juliet was first introduced, I thought, well, it’s a kids’ movie, maybe they want to include a younger female character to act as an active role model for girls watching? NOPE: Juliet has speaking lines in only about three scenes in the entire film. In two of them, she is bringing sandwiches to other characters. In another scene, we see her sitting alone in the kitchen while the rest of the characters are off doing plot-related things.

That’s right. Disney added a young Black girl to the cast just so she could serve food to her uncle’s rich white employer.

There is literally no other purpose served by her character in the film. She’s conspicuously absent from (and irrelevant to) key plot scenes, and the only thing she accomplishes in the entire movie apart from serving food is, in one scene, she looks at a monitor and reports on the weather conditions. That’s it. Honestly, it would have been better to leave her character out completely, rather than have this token appearance characterized by inactivity.

[Warning: Spoiler ahead!] And then there’s Domovoi himself. In the books, Butler (who possesses extensive martial and tactical training, as well as superhuman strength) earns the fear and respect of the fairies by singlehandedly holding off a rampaging troll. In the film, he is not only completely useless in the fight against said troll -- scrappy little Artemis gets more hits on the beast than Domovoi does -- but he is actually killed (temporarily, because magic) saving Artemis in the troll fight. In fact, he’s the only named character with an onscreen death in the course of the entire film.

Or, as my sister put it, staring at the screen with her jaw hanging: “Did they cast a Black actor just so they could have the Black guy die first?!”

To top off the dubious optics of both of those character choices, the apparently-progressive move of changing Root to a female character is undermined by the complete nerfing of the story’s female lead, Captain Holly Short. In the books, Holly is a whip-smart, no-nonsense officer who acts as a foil for the wily Artemis; in this film, she’s reduced to a novice recruit who technically has some agency, but her personal motivation (what little she has of it) revolves solely around her father, and is so poorly conveyed that our viewing group had an ongoing discussion trying to determine exactly what she was doing and why throughout the film.

The worst thing is that some middle executive somewhere is probably patting himself on the back for facilitating some “woke” casting, because look! There was a racially-diverse cast! And Strong Female Characters(TM)! when in fact the entire film was not only a crock of pure garbage, but insulting garbage. Both my intellect and my social sensibilities feel bruised after viewing.

I wish Disney+ had a “rate this film” feature, because I would leave a smoking hole where the star rating should be.

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

* This is a term my sister and I coined to (politely) describe something that is a complete and total disaster. I’m sure you can parse its meaning when you consider that an aggregation of waterfowl might also be described as “clustered ducks.”

#artemis fowl #disney+#movie review

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rachelbethhines · 5 years ago

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Tangled Salt Marathon - Painter’s Block

Once again, we have a decent episode that winds up falling apart in context of the wider story arc.

Summary: Traumatized after the previous events, Rapunzel is feeling out of sorts, even having trouble painting again, and starts taking a class with a mysterious new art instructor. The other members of the class disappear one by one to a mysterious location by the sea, apparently painting an old, withered tree. The instructor is revealed to actually be an old witch serving Zhan Tiri (the monster who released the blizzard), released after the use of the weather machine and wishing to release her master as well. It’s up to Eugene and Cassandra to rescue Rapunzel.

Tonal Dissonance Is a Problem

We start this episode with a recap of Queen for a Day and then we jump straight into yet another festival.

Ok, ignoring that clearly a lot of time has past and no one hasn’t done anything to help Varian nor even mentions helping him; it’s just aggravating to switch from a serious storyline back to a supposedly low stakes situation without resolving the first arc properly. Yes, levity is needed to break up tension, but not in a way that distracts entirely from the narrative.

Rapunzel Doesn’t Even Bother To Think About Varian When She’s Having Her PTSD Flashback

Its a minor thing, but throughout the episode Rapunzel keeps having dissociative moments as she constantly hears voices in her head as she remembers the storm. Now I actually do appreciate what the writers are trying to do here. As some who also struggles with Complex-PTSD and dissociation, it's nice to see it represented here in some way. However, the fact that they leave out the key part of her trauma, letting down Varian, undermines these moments. Especially when they had no problem using Varian’s voice clip of “You promised!” earlier in the recap. It’s one of those things you may not notice it at first, but once you do it winds up distracting from the scene.

What an Odd Place to Make This Reference

Sugarby is quoting Ursula here, but I honestly don't know why. Ursula’s actual VA, Pat Carroll, does appear in this episode but she plays Old Lady Crowley instead. Sugarby’s VA is Ellen Greene, of Little Shop of Horrors fame. (and Rock-A-Doodle) You’d think a quote from that movie would be more apt. Also Rapunzel was admiring everyone elses work right before this, not talking about tough choices.

Yet Again Cassandra Gains What She Wants, But the Narrative Refuses To Remember It

Cassandra’s beef in seasons two and three is apparently no one notices her or gives her credit for what she does, yet in season one she gets tons of recognition. Like here for instance, when her dad gives her a detective assignment on a missing persons case. To her specifically. He doesn’t ask anybody else first and isn’t running low on troops.

You can’t have one of the main characters achieve their goal on screen several times and then act like they had never achieved it in later seasons. The audience isn’t dumb. We’re going to remember what happened and it’s insulting to the viewers for the narrative to pretend like what we’ve seen just didn’t happen.

Friedborg is Wasted Here

I’ve talked about it before, but Friedborg is an unnecessary addition to the cast. However I bring it up again because this episode could have been the perfect set up for making her plot relevant. There’s tons of unintentional moments within the episode that could have easily served as foreshadowing that could have connected her to Zan Tiri, more so than any of the other characters.

Trauma is an Explanation, Not an Excuse

This episode presents the idea that Rapunzel is procrastinating helping Varian because she’s reluctant to face her trauma. Which isn’t excusable. It gives reasons for her actions but those reasons are still ultimately selfish.

Now, had the show owned up to this mistake, I would have no problem with using it as a point of conflict, yet the show constantly excuses Rapunzel’s behavior here. In fact the show excuses the behavior of several characters with the idea that so long that they had a traumatic backstory, they’re justified in their horrible actions. All but Varian, which a big double standard.

However, and I can’t stress this enough, trauma is never an excuse for harming others. Especially people who've never done you wrong.

Rapunzel spends several episodes ignoring Varian’s problem, long past the point of acceptability. And if viewed in the intended production order, the amount of episodes doubles. Varian is left alone for months, given the timeline of the show, and yet Rapunzel, the supposed adult in this situation, is never held accountable for neglecting a child.

Xavier isn’t Tied Into the Plot Properly

Xavier just so happens to have a convenient spell book that also just so happens to have all the exposition on the big bad that’s needed. It’s never explained how he got this book, why he has it, nor is it ever used outside of the first season.

Xavier is plot important as the exposition fairy but the show never explorers him further than that and doesn’t tie him into the narrative properly, even though there’s plenty of reasons to do so. In fact Xavier will become just as useless as Monty by the time season three rolls around, even though he previously had the most connection to the ultimate villain.

The Disciples Plot Goes Nowhere

Ok, first off we get no real explanation as who these guys are, nor why they follow Zan Tiri to begin with. Why do they want Zan Tiri freed? What’s in it for them precisely?

Second, what meminal backstory we get on these guys, contradicts what we’re told about them here. Xavier calls them evil spirits, but later we find out that they were actual real people who onced lived. You could call them ghosts if you want to, but that begs the original question of why they followed Zhan Tiri in the first place and why they continue to do so even in the afterlife. Simply being ‘evil’ no longer cuts it because real people aren’t just purely ‘evil’. They have goals and motivations.

Finally, they accomplish nothing. They never wind up freeing their master. That happens through other means. They never connect back to Zhan Tiri’s own goals and motivations. They don’t add backstory to any of the other characters nor expand the mythos of the series. They’re just there to be a baddie of the week, and it’s is such a let down given what other hints we got for them.

Sugarby Misgenders Her Master

So it’s clear that the writers did not fully figure out Zhan Tiri’s plot before they started making episodes. Given how animation works and how much pre-production time you’re given before you ever even start animating (which is several years btw), that’s a sign of mismanagement right there.

Zhan Tiri is revealed to be a girl, but is referred to using male pronouns until that reveal, even by people who very well should know better, like her disciples.

Also all these tree metaphors and hints come to nothing either, as Zhan Tiri is ultimately both freed and imprisoned without them. So what was the point here?

Rapunzel Doesn’t Learn Her Lesson

This episode is suppose to be about Rapunzel learning to accept responsibility and owning up to her decisions even if it's hard. This should, sensibly, end with her taking upon her responsibility for Varian and following up with him. But no, we get a painting party instead.

This isn’t Proper Foreshadowing

So everyone acts like this painting of Cassandra in front of the moon is foreshadowing for her taking the moonstone, but it’s not. Not good foreshadowing, anyways.

For starters, it’s not focused upon. Everyone is also painting stuff and crowding out what she’s doing so your eye isn’t lead to her

Nothing anybody else paints is a hint to anything later on, so why should the viewer pick up on this? It’s just a thing anybody could paint. If anything, Freidborg painting the void over there could have been some real foreshadowing cause that’s different and stands out, but it isn’t.

It’s not on screen long enough to register for the audience. If you’re only going to notice something after the fact then it’s not a meaningful clue. Real foreshadowing has to be detectable and the audience needs to be able to plausibly figure out a twist before it happens or you’ve got a bad twist that’s not integrated into the story.

There’s no other evidence to backup the twist. All we get is one framing shot of a mirror and that brief talk with Eugene in in the cell in Cassandra vs. Eugene. That’s not enough. And no, Chris claiming her ‘dress is blue’ as a hint is utter bullshit, cause there’s Freidborg right there wearing the exact same dress.

If MoonCass was always a thing that the writers intended to happen, which we do have evidence for given released production artwork and Chris’s own discussions about the show’s development, then they needed to put more effort into establishing the character and setting up her arc.

The very fact that viewers can easily pick out supposedly non-existent ‘hints’ with other characters like Freidborg and Varian, but not pick up on the actual twist, means that the writers failed to communicate clearly with their audience. That is on them and not the viewers, no matter what Chris says.

Conclusion

This episode is frustrating. Much like the pilot, it offers up good ideas but then never properly follows up on them. To make matters worse, it winds up distracting from the plot that viewers actually care about rather than furthering.

#tangled the series #tangled #rapunzel's tangled adventure #anti-tangled #zhan tiri #rapunzel #anti-rapunzel #cassandra #varian

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recurring-polynya · 5 years ago

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Can we get some drabbles on Renji’s time with Squad 11 especially his interactions with Kenpachi and Yachiru? Obviously shenanigans with Ikkaku and Yumichika are welcome! Also, how did you think he was promoted to Squad 6 lieutenant? It’s safe to assume he applied (I can imagine his Squad 11 gang even helping him out with this) as that’s part of his “master Get-Back-Rukia plan” but moving from 6th seat to lieutenant is a leap and I imagine that Byakuya is super picky. Imagine his job interview!

I’ll do the meta part first.

#0. For starters, Renji spent 40 years reverse-engineering how to make Squad 6 Vice-Captain. He read every Teen Vogue profile on Byakuya, he clipped Byakuya’s unreadable etiquette column in the Bulletin, he studied Kuchiki military history, he hung out at Shirogane Ginjirou’s sunglasses shop and knew exactly when the guy planned to retire and got a bunch of spilled tea on Byakuya’s pet peeves, of which there are many. Byakuya is not exactly a complicated guy, it isn’t all that hard to figure out what the right answers to his interview questions are gonna be.

#1. I think there is an exam that qualifies you to be a vice-captain, and that Renji vastly over-prepared for it and got an extremely high score. Byakuya loves big numbers.

#2. There is a standard application for Vice-Captain that’s probably about 5 pages long. Renji’s application was 15 pages long. He included a personal essay and a long paean to how much he admired the principles of Squad 6. Byakuya loves Squad 6, and he loves a guy who is really enthusiastic about Squad 6.

#3. Renji is great in an interview. I headcanon that he and Rukia did a lot of con artistry back in Rukongai. Byakuya is a mark. Primarily, Renji gave him opportunities to pontificate, which Byakuya loves. Byakuya talked through 90% of Renji’s interview, and walked out feeling great.

#4. The only thing Renji had going against him was the reference section. Byakuya hates Zaraki and would go out of his way to avoid talking to him. Aizen was still salty that Renji left his squad, and tried to reverse psych Byakuya into not hiring him. (“Oh, I think he’d be an excellent second for you, Byakuya! He’s a bit impulsive, and I’m sure your influence would overcome some of that hotheadedness! His poor kidou skills shouldn’t be a problem, I’m sure you’ve got that covered yourself…”) Unfortunately for Aizen, Byakuya was already 80% on Team Renji and he realized Aizen was trying to play him, and Byakuya hates being played.

Job offer within 24 hours. Regrets came later.

I do a lot of shenanigans with Ikkaku and Yumichika, but not usually Kenpachi and Yachiru, so let’s try that for a change!

🗡️ 💖 💪

“I have a Special Assignment for you, Abarai,” the Kenpachi grumbled.

Special Assignments could be anything, really. Running around dive bars in the upper Rukon, stapling up posters to advertise their next Recruitment Brawl. Delivering blotchy hand-written notes to Captain Unohana. Helping Zaraki set up elaborate obstacle courses that would then necessitate another Recruitment Brawl. The majority of Renji’s Special Assignments involved helping the captain get somewhere he needed to go. Zaraki was very good at getting lost, but Renji was exceptionally good at finding places. This worked out rather nicely, because there was almost always something interesting to fight in the places that Zaraki wanted to go, and the more Zaraki saw Renji fight, the more willing he was to bring him along.

“We goin’ somewhere, sir?” Renji asked hopefully.

Zaraki scratched his ass pensively. “Not today. C’mon in, I don’t wanna talk about it outside.” He let the way into what was occasionally jokingly referred to as his “office.” It was the place where Zaraki hung out and took naps during the day, in case anyone wanted to find him for fighting purposes. “Chisaka had to go to the Living World last week,” Zaraki explained, rummaging around in his kosode and pulling out a well-thumbed magazine. “She brought Yachiru back some manga she thought she would like.”

“That was nice,” Renji commented carefully. Giving gifts to Yachiru was nearly always an exercise in “no good deed goes unpunished.”

“Yeah, it went over real good,” Zaraki grumbled. “She liked it so much, she wants her hair done up like the kid in it.” He thrust the crumpled booklet at Renji. It was a girls’ manga, the kind with a lot of sparkles and girls in sailor suits. Zaraki poked a gnarled finger at a picture of a little girl with pink hair, twisted up into two little buns, with fluffy ponytails trailing down from them.

Renji rolled his eyes up towards his captain. “What the actual fuck, sir? Isn’t this more Ayasegawa’s department?” Zaraki didn’t like to be called ‘sir’ unless there was a profanity somewhere in the same sentence.

“Dammit, Abarai, I know you’ve let Ayasegawa do your hair. It takes him four fucking hours and he screams at you if you squirm. Yachiru can’t sit through that shit.”

Renji made an uncomfortable face. “Your hair always looks great, can’t you--”

“I tried! She doesn’t want me to use any gel, says it needs to be ‘fluffy’. How the hell are you supposed to do a hairstyle without gel, answer me that!”

“What makes you think I can do anything?” Renji finally whined.

“Look, I started at the top. Madarame ain’t got any hair, and Iba might as well not. You’re pretty fast, and you’re probably strong enough to hold her down, and at least you know how a ponytail holder works.” Zaraki sucked his teeth. “If you do it, I’ll fight you later.”

“Really?” Renji asked, his eyebrows shooting up. Zaraki didn’t usually feel that anyone below Ikkaku merited his time, and Renji jumped at every opportunity to convince him otherwise.

“Yeah, sure.” Zaraki flung open the door to the room where Yachiru sat, scowling, surrounded by an assortment of ribbons and barrettes. “I got help.”

“Wrong Way doesn’t know how to do hair!” Yachiru shouted.

Renji and Yachiru had an ongoing philosophical disagreement about the geography of the Seireitei. Yachiru had zero legs to stand on in this argument, but also, she was the one who came up with nicknames.

“He has a lot of hair,” Zaraki countered.

“That’s boy hair!” Yachiru returned. “It doesn’t count!”

“I… have done girl hair before,” Renji admitted, somewhat painedly. “Hair is hair!” He almost yelled “Gender is a construct!” because he had been reading some of the books Iba’s mom kept leaving in their room, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to explain what that meant. At this point, he just wanted to get this over with, preferably without getting kicked in the nose, which tended to happen a lot around Yachiru. “If you let me try, I’ll let you do my hair.”

Yachiru’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“You can’t cut it, but sure. Whatever.”

Zaraki was looking over at him with something that might have been respect. “Do you know what you’re doing, you crazy bastard?” he mumbled.

“Absolutely not,” Renji replied.

🗡️ 💖 💪

“They’re uneven, is all I’m saying,” Yumichika sniffed.

“I love them, he put extra ribbons on!” Yachiru howled, swinging her sheathed sword at Yumichika, who deftly ducked. The ribbons swung delightfully around the sides of her head.

“I’m honestly surprised there were any ribbons left,” Iba commented dryly.

“You can shut it, fucko!” Renji yelled. His hair was styled rather similarly to his vice-captain’s, except that his was in three (rather lumpy) buns, and his ponytails trailed more majestically. The curling iron had been a terrible idea overall, but the big, loopy curls at the ends of both Renji’s and Yachiru’s hair had definitely been worth all the burns.

Ikkaku rubbed his own bald pate. “I kinda like that look on him. 100 kan says it helps him fight better.”

“You’re on,” Iba agreed.

“What’s the hold up?!” Zaraki roared.

“Here I come!” Renji bellowed.

“Ganbatte, Wrong Way!” Yachiru cheered.

There was a loud crunch.

Ikkaku handed over the 100 kan. “It was worth a try.”

#happy birthday renji!#renji abarai #squad 11 #my writing #drabbles

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fierykitten2 · 3 months ago

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Fuck it, I’ve assigned Falcon Samus and Fox starters, I’ve assigned Robert, Madeline and Falco starters, it’s time to assign Blood Falcon, Dark Samus and Wolf O’Donnell (yeah that’s the closest I can think of to a “lookalike” of Fox. Robert doesn’t count because I was specifically thinking the lookalikes had to be from their own universes. And also evil). No guarantee none of these guys stole their starters

Kanto

Dark Samus gets Bulbasaur

Blood Falcon gets Charmander

Wolf gets Squirtle

Johto

Dark Samus gets Chikorita

Wolf gets Cyndaquil

Blood Falcon gets Totodile (at some point I swear I will give him a starter I didn’t already give Falcon. But the next to regions have birb starters)

Hoenn

Blood Falcon gets Torchic

Dark Samus gets Mudkip

Wolf gets Treecko

Sinnoh

Blood Falcon gets Piplup (good luck being second or third in command in this villainous trio when that fully-evolves. Oh wait everyone else gets Sinnoh starters too)

Dark Samus gets Chimchar

Wolf gets Turtwig (apparently it’s really difficult to assign them differently to their good counterparts)

Unova

Dark Samus gets Oshawott

Blood Falcon gets Snivy (see? I finally paired him up with a starter I didn’t pair Falcon up with)

Wolf gets Tepig

Kalos

Wolf gets Fennekin (there’s always one with mammalian animal themes and that one with mammalian animal themes always ends up with Fennekin and Sprigatito. I apologise in advance for what that means for Dark Samus’s Paldean starter but someone had to have it)

Blood Falcon gets Chespin mainly because I’m tired of always giving the F-Zero racer of the trio Froakie apart from the fact that Robert is that “one with mammalian animal themes” that I gave Fennekin and Sprigatito last time so that’s not true at all. I’m honestly not entirely sure what I was mixing that up with because Totodile comes to mind but I gave Robert Cyndaquil instead. Point is the three F-Zero racers I’ve assigned starters all end up with different Kalos starters which I think is cool because I love the Kalos starters (if you can’t tell I prefer Chespin and Fennekin to Froakie)

Dark Samus gets Froakie (you know what? With the Dark typing that actually makes sense. That said, it also would’ve made sense with literally anyone else for the exact same reason)

Alola

Blood Falcon gets Rowlet

Wolf gets Litten (maybe I just think he deserves a more intimidating starter for once. Or maybe I paired up the Alola starters before I paired up the Unova starters and wanted a trio where the F-Zero racer got Grass, the Metroid character got Water and the Star Fox character got Fire so I could have a starter trio where the villains get the remaining starter types missing when I pair the Afterthoughts (Falcon, Samus and Fox) with the Paldean starters and their partners (Robert, Madeline and Falco) with the Kalos starters and given I planned on giving Blood Rowlet anyway I thought that would be a good opportunity to do so. Also I prefer the Alola starters to the Unova starters and also this means that grouping those together like that means the F-Zero racers all get really fitting starters (Falcon and Blood for getting birds and Falcon specifically getting a blue one and Robert for getting a literal Golden Fox). I wonder if Falcon, Samus and Fox can overcome their disadvantages (type disadvantages) to beat their unfriendly rivals or if they’re gonna have to ask Robert, Madeline and Falco for help (I’m sure Falcon can handle it. He’s canonically good at overcoming disadvantages and I headcanon he’s friends with Mewtwo so probably knows enough about Pokémon to mitigate a weakness to Grass like that))

Dark Samus gets Popplio

Galar

I strangely want Blood Falcon to get Scorbunny. The other two are fighting for Grookey because they don’t want a Pokémon who cries all the time. I’m gonna say Dark Samus has the advantage there and gets Grookey and if Wolf is still alive he’s stuck with Sobble but doesn’t like it until it fully evolves

Paldea

Blood Falcon gets Quaxly

Wolf gets Sprigatito and is probably tired of always getting the cutesy one (it’s fine, Meowscarada’s part Dark. How is it Blood is the only one that never ends up with a starter that’s part Dark? I mean he’s got a Ghost-type in Alola so that’s not too bad but still)

Dark Samus unfortunately falls into the trap where the Metroid character always gets stuck with Fuecoco because they’re the least animal-themed character in a group with a bird/avian that is automatically guaranteed Quaxly and a mammal/furry that is automatically guaranteed Sprigatito

Bonus: (idk why I do this part when I specifically assign the Johto, Unova and Alola starters so I don’t have to think about assigning them multiple from the same starter trio) Hisui

Blood Falcon gets Rowlet

Dark Samus gets Oshawott

Wolf gets Cyndaquil (somehow the one I give Cyndaquil is from a different universe every time)

#blood falcon #dark samus #wolf o'donnell #there are several different layers of villainy here #from most to least evil:#basically an evil clone but already existed before becoming an evil clone #evil clone who probably isn’t too difficult to handle without his creator or his creator’s boss #just some jerkass rival who occasionally gets hired by the bad guys #F-Zero x Metroid x Star Fox x Pokémon #F-Zero #Metroid #Star Fox #pokémon

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lilylovessev · 5 years ago

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last chance // snily au

“Oh, shit.” Lily Evans knelt down, fumbling for her keys in the dark, simultaneously knocking on the door. She soon curled her fingers around them, just as the door was flung open by her incredibly irritated best friend.

“Lily. It’s three in the fucking morning,” Dorcas groaned, pulling her up before helping her into the house. “Quickly, get inside.”

She stumbled inside, kicking off her heels before then immediately making a beeline for the kitchen. “I am so hungry.”

“You’ve got to get a grip of yourself.” Doe followed her, folding her arms as she watched the redhead perch up on the counter-top with a Tupperware box of leftover pasta from the fridge in her hands. “You’re twenty-five. We’re not kids anymore. You can’t be out every night. You’re not backpacking anymore. You’re not on the party islands. You’re very much here. You’ve already lost a job.”

“... for being late, on a few occasions. It’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not. You weren’t being anywhere near as productive as you’re capable of being. You fucked that right up, Lil.” As if she needed any further reminding of her mistakes. It was then that the brunette walked over to her, checking her pockets and grabbing her bag from her, pulling out a small vial before then heading over to the sink.

“Really?” Lily moaned, rolling her eyes. “It’s barely anything.”

“You need to stop that too. It’s totally fucking irresponsible. You have no idea how makes that shit.”

“Look who it is,” Mar groaned, running a hand through her blonde waves as she walked into the kitchen. “Thank you for interrupting my glorious beauty sleep, yet again.” She glanced over as Doe threw the vial into the bin, shaking her head disapprovingly. “I thought that you were over that phase. How are you going to get through an interview tomorrow strung out?”

“Do I look strung out? I’m perfectly fine.” She argued, waving a hand dismissively.

“This is your last chance, Evans.” Doe sighed, “I’m surprised that Dumbledore is even considering you for the post. How did that happen anyway?”

“I don’t know. A flyer advertising the role was handed to me on the way out of my... despatch interview at the Ministry. I suppose it was good timing,” she laughed, but it really wasn’t all that funny. She had never been more humiliated than being fired by the Ministry. She’d put on a brave, couldn’t care less face, but had felt anything but that. She sighed, before downing the pint glass of water in one, before looking between her tired friends. “I’m not going to fuck it up, girls. You know that I need this job.” She was not going to end up back in Cokeworth.

“Do you? Honestly, everything was going pretty perfectly for you prior to your sudden departure. You had a loving boyfriend, good job prospects... You were making something of yourself. I will never forgive you for giving all of that up. You know that you fucked James up. He was devastated, still is.” Yeah, he was still fucking obsessed with her, despite having had numerous girlfriends. He wanted her back under his thumb. That wasn’t going to happen, not in a million lifetimes.

They didn’t know. They really didn’t know. To them, James Potter was their charming, handsome friend. He was personable, funny, and had a bloody good job. He was respected. To her? He had been abusive, controlling and possessive. A deadly combination, that had quite literally forced her out of the country. That relationship had affected her, deeply so, but she just didn’t talk about it. She didn’t correct her friends, because what was that point? They could believe what they wanted, they’d never see that side of him. She had done everything possible to avoid seeing him since her return, but it was made difficult by living with these girls, whom she loved dearly.

Perhaps, being at Hogwarts would help relieve that tension. She was more than qualified, given that she’d gotten perfect grades at school and for the year or so prior to leaving and traveling, she’d completed a highly praised research project in the area of Charms for the Ministry. It was just a shame that she’d then... fucked it up with the Ministry upon her return, knowing that they’d had great respect for her initially. She knew that she could do this. That she could impress Albus. She’d put up a facadé during her time with James, before everything had gone to pot. She could feign being brave for now.

It was safe to say that she was nervous.

For starters, she was back at the Ministry. Secondly, she was interviewing to teach. Her? A teacher? Pfft, it seemed ludicrous. It really did. Why was she bothering? Why would he want a party girl on his staff team? Why would he want someone who had done very little growing up since her time at Hogwarts teaching there? How could he trust her? She had been Head Girl. What had happened? It was humiliating, honestly. She could have cried walking back into that place. She supposed that it was easier for him to travel to the Ministry than for her to get to Hogwarts, he probably had other business to take care of there.

She waited outside of the assigned office, fully aware that she probably wasn’t ready for this. However, she’d try her best. This was a chance. This was a chance to establish herself, properly, and to shed the image that she’d created of herself.

“Lily?”

She kicked her foot off of the wall, turning to see Professor Dumbledore gesturing for her to enter the room. She nodded, exhaling a deep breath before heading inside.

“It’s been a while, young lady. Sit yourself down.”

She dropped her bag to the floor before sliding down into the chair, immediately folding her hands in her lap.

“Thank you for this opportunity,” she started, looking across at him as he sat down opposite. “You have no idea how much I need this. I never really imagined myself teaching but I am more than willing to give it my best.” She listened as he then gave her a spiel about what the job would entail, that she’d be mentored and expected to also carry out another research project on the side due to her lack of experience. Professor Flitwick, whom she had much admired, was taking a sabbatical for a while which had opened up the position. He then went on to ask her a number of questions, most of which she answered... just about.

“I’m sorry for my nerves,” she laughed, pushing her hair back behind her ear.

“This is quite unlike the confident girl that walked into my office rather demanding of the Head Girl post,” he remarked with a small smirk. “I’d rather like to see that attitude returned. Perhaps, a year or so back in the folds of Hogwarts will do you some good, away from negative influences.” It was then that she knew that he knew. She didn’t know, but he did. He knew that she spent time with people whom she shouldn’t, that she’d done things that she most definitely shouldn’t have done. Yet, he was giving her a chance, and for that she couldn’t be more grateful.

“Thank you,” she repeated, reaching out to shake his hand. “I’d very much like that.”

#para

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alolanrain · 6 years ago

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Ash was often cast out by his teachers during Elementary and Middle school for being “ to rowdy, loud, and disrupting the class as a whole “ and “ unable to keep up with the class learning pace “ when he had a severe case of ADHD, it wasn’t until being shown about the Pokemon School by Mallow did Ash really want to get back into learning.

But what Ash didn’t know was that Principal Oak had access to almost all his records, that means his school records and his trainer records.

his school records if printed out was a good size stack because most of it was nasty comments his past teachers had about him and there was a good chunk that came from teachers that he never had. His trainer records quadruple in size, making the other stack look like a few flimsy sheets of paper to the monument that was the accomplishments that he had acquired over the past few years.

Thankfully Principal Oak had taken his time going through both stacks, highlighting what he himself think are key details, and scanning it into two PDF’s and adding the video links also. adding it to an email he CC’d the teachers that cold hold one more student in their class at such a short moment. it was only five teachers, and Professor Kukui was one of them.

“ Hello all, I would like to state that I am sincerely sorry for reaching you all so late into the night, but I've got a particular student wanting to join our school and you five are my only teachers that have a spot available. in these links are the students School records, notes, and comments from past teachers and their Trainer records - note that I had highlighted details that I myself had thought were important in both documents but feel free to send me any notice or concerns about said student and it would be much appreciated if you all talked about what classroom would be the right one for them so that we can reconvene tomorrow. Sincerely, Principal Oak. “

Kukui was working on other scientific paperwork when he got the email, he had a feeling that he already knew who the trainer was but nonetheless he opened the email and the two docs on separate tabs. immediately he was taken back at how many notes and teacher comments from the first document that were all underlined in yellow highlighter.

“ Ash had somehow had bribe the visiting Lucario and Riolu from interacting with his other classmates, and when confronted about this had denied it until going into a crying fit and brought to the Principals office where we called his mother and viewed the tapes. “

the first comment had left something incredibly sour in Kukui’s chest that curled between his ribs, his mind supplied that Ash hadn’t gone into a tantrum but actually pushed to the point of crying by a teacher. the comment didn’t even say if Ash had actually bribed the Lucario and Riolus to him or not.

scrolling down the pages some he stopped at another comments.

“ Ash couldn’t sit still during assigned reading time and when faced openly about it he said that he ‘ couldn't consintrate on his book because it was hard for him ‘ he was promptly sent to the Principal’s office and would be retrieved once reading time was over. “

now Kukui could understand that sightly, if one of his students acted antsy then it would slowly spread about to the rest. But asking him openly in front fo everyone else in the classroom instead of pulling to him to the side? that was just a dick move right there.

he scrolled down more until he got to the section of his last year of Middle School.

“ Ash is incredibly lazy and doesn’t work during most of the class hours. he would approach my after school asking for help with last weeks homework, I asked if his mother helps him. he replied that she’s been busy with her work at the deli shop. I asked about his father and he mumbled something that I had to tell him to repeat it louder, maybe if Ash had a father figure in his life he could actually get some school work done. “

Kukui couldn’t believe what he was reading on his computer screen, how can these people be teachers!? you don’t just say that to one of your students that was actively coming after school hours for help. The disgust was slowly started to thicken inside him, but he ignored the document for the email conversation that was happening instead.

“ I personally don’t want a slacker in my class, all these notes from these teacher must be true! “ ah, good old Amy. Kukui is all for productivity but he know’s that if a student has a bad day, their going to be slower than normal - or in Kiawe’s case, faster and sloppier.

“ You have a point Amy, but a lot of the comments accusing Ash never stated if they were right or wrong. so you just can’t go assuming that their all right. “ Victor was always apart of the neutral spot, his place next to Kukui since both of them had experienced bad teachers personally and actually worked with them.

“ Maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt, it say’s that he stopped going to school over 6 years ago, Ash probably wasn’t mentally prepared for school and Kanto does grade harder than we do. this might be really good for him! “ Kukui couldn’t help but figure out who his hackles rose at Petunia’s words. it maybe because Kukui had traveled Alola and Kanto himself, and he didn’t go to collage or any kind of further studies for a while after he got back from Kanto.

he didn’t bother with a reply because he hasn’t seen the other PDF and so he couldn’t make a full judgment, and he knows Jackson won’t answer until morning because that’s just the type of person he is.

looking over to the other screen he started from the yellow box surrounding the basic info of the trainer, only to stop and squint at his big screen.

“ Name: Ashton Ketchum. Class: Pokemon Trainer. Starting Age: 10 - Current Age: 17. Titles: Orange Island Champion; secondary Champion to Kanto and Johto’s Champion Lance, reserving spot for Frontier Brain - though unlikely. Starter Pokemon: Pikachu {through Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, Kalos}. Relatives: Delia Ketchum [Mother, Alive], -Unknown Father-, Kanto Champion Red Ketchum [Older Brother, Deceased], Kanto and Johto Champion Lance Wataru [Uncle, Alive]. Doctor Notes: has a severe case of ADHD and has quite the larger appetite for a boy his age and size. “

Kukui ha heard about Orange Islands and Secondary Champion during passing, but he never knew it was an actual thing. but he miraculously passed that information over to focus more on the Frontier Brain title, he knows from passing boring students that come from Sinnoh that the Battle Frontier doesn’t hold a spot for a person that was undecided - but apparently for Ash they did.

getting over his initial shock he was hit by a different wave of emotion when he read through the relative section. He had personally met Delia, she was such a sweet woman during their short meeting and he he couldn’t help remember their last name for some reason.

this kid - or young adult now - has been dragged through the mud as a young child by his teachers, doesn’t know who his father is and his brother is dead. pursing his lip’s he leaned back into his chair, Kukui pulled his glasses off to lightly chuck them onto the cluttered desk, his hands coming up to press the palms of his hands into his eyes.

he was honestly fighting himself.

Kukui had a good reputation with the kids he taught and watched graduate from the Pokemon School, but this year he noticed that Principal Oak had given him... he really shouldn’t call them special kids and those weren’t the right words in any way.

Lillie comes from a small family, but a family with privilege and wealth, her mother sends over donations for the school to do big projects and that also help pay for any big field trips that they have. Lana’s father is one - if not - the best fishermen in Alola, he helps out the other Scientist if their work is surrounding marine Pokemon and they pay him a very big check every time he brings them the Pokemon on their list. Kiawe’s farm gives a bunch of free food for the kids that usually can’t bring their own lunch and is one of the most sought out brand for certain foods on all four Islands. Sophocles is the younger cousin of Molayne, and is a growing mastermind at technology. Mallow’s father runs one of the best restaurants in Alola and had been featured on many TV shows and some that even went international.

but unlike them who were placed in his class for one reason or another by Principal Oak, none of his students have the same vibe like Ash. just being in the same room as the young adult Kukui felt like all the colors around him had turned more vibrant, more colorful in general. and watching him practically sink up with Kiawe during the battle between those three team skull kids was amazing, he spoke the commands to Pikachu in such a way that you just imidieatly know that he had been doing this for some time. and from how he interacted with Mallow, they acted like they already knew each other for quite sometime even though they haven't known each other for probably more than two hours.

but the question rises, where would he stay? The empty loft sitting in his house collecting dust pushed forward in his brain and he knows for a fact that the other teachers wouldn’t give one of their rooms up in their house to a complete stranger. so it was perfectly clear to Kukui.

ignoring the conversation still going on between the other three teachers he types out his answer to the Principal.

“ Give him to me, I have a loft in my house since he’s going to need a place to stay and he had already met all of my students. “ he leaned back after he sent the message, chewing on his bottom lip as his mind flashed through the basic paragraph, he should start searching what could help ADHD people learn better.

#ash Ketchum #professor kukui #slight papa kukui

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wayofsparta · 5 years ago

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How I Run My Blog

Speed: Honestly, things have turned on their heads in regards to how my free time is divided with everything going on. I might have more, I might have less depending on what changes this week. lol At the moment, I’m generally slow because my university is trying to end the semester early so we’re cramming in a number of papers and assignments into the next three weeks. However, in general, I am fairly slow and run mostly out of my queue so you may get a solid night or day of posting out of that but that might be between periods of quiet on here. However, once April rolls around I might be on more solidly. Though, yeah, generally it takes me some time to get to things because I tend to be a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to characterization, so it may take me a while to get something that sounds good to me. lol

Replies: As mentioned above, I tend to post mostly out of the queue unless I feel like doing one in particular for a day or something. Generally, I’ll alternate between replies and asks, or do a mix of both if I’m feeling that, so you may see more replies over asks and vice versa. Replies do tend to come a little easier sometimes because there’s more to them. As for formatting, I don’t do anything too special outside of small text (not sub) and italic, bold, and all caps words in places. However, I’m always accommodating to people who wish for me to drop the formatting, just ask!

Starters: I’m really bad with writing starters, tbh. I tend to stick with one-liners and then build off them as we go, but if there’s been plotting beforehand I tend to write them a little easier and lengthier. Though, best way to write with me is to continue a meme and I may do the same with you. I don’t do many open starters, they are usually once in a blue moon if I have an idea or bit of dialogue stuck in my head.

Inbox: My inbox is always open for things, though I may be a bit selective with what I answer if I can’t come up with anything worthwhile in response to it. Joke-y, crack asks can stump me a bit if there’s too many sent so those tend to get dropped. However, I do love getting random interactions or headcanon questions, so those are always accepted.

Selectivity: I’m private and mutuals only for my own sanity. Especially with how things have been recently, I don’t want to feel like I’m being pulled in too many directions on here so I will tend to pick and choose who I’m following based on what’s posted on the blog, characters, if our writing styles would mesh, and if I see it likely that we’d interact. I don’t mean anything personal if I don’t follow people back, I’m just trying not to overwhelm myself.

Wishlist: I don’t really have one so far, I’ve only just made this blog. lol I’m kind of an open door when it comes to plots at this point.

Honest Note: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been in this fandom and you all have been so welcoming and friendly, I can’t appreciate that enough along with giving a rather unpopular character a chance too. lol

Tagged by: @afraidofchange Thank you!! Tagging: @maskeraide , @notanoutlaw , @vaagus , anybody else who wants to do this!

#⥬ ooc .

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disappearinginq · 5 years ago

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New Bingo Card

Crankiness is apparently a powerful motivator, but so are awesome people randomly swinging by with words of encouragement.

Currently, the fandom is Magnum, PI, but I plan to add in some from Prodigal Son over the break.

Fic can be found on AO3: Found Family

and FFN.net: Found Family

and below the cut:

Rick tugged at the stiff collar of his dress blues for the umpteeth time, stretching the starched material a little further every time. The fabric no longer lined up to make an even line, and the top button was in danger of popping loose. His face was starting to itch from his five o’clock shadow, and the colonel had made it abundantly clear that he was to shave before they were picked up by their escort, but after 18 months and 11 days of no shaving, he just felt naked without at least some scruff.

Besides.

Clean shaven he looked like he was 12.

Well, used to. The rounded features he’d had almost his entire adult life that had bartenders carding him well into his thirties – a source of never ending amusement for Nuzo and TC and a shared affliction for Thomas – were gone. They’d been out of the Valley for almost four months now, but weight and muscle were slow to return.

“Why in the fuck do we have to stay in our dress uniforms for this bullshit?” he grumbled. The uniforms were never what one would call roomy but now they just felt like woolen weighted blankets slowly suffocating him. With the high collar, it felt like a really weak guy trying to strangle him all day. It didn’t allow for slouching or raising arms or even stretching, and Rick had to resist the urge to gnaw on the collar that jabbed uncomfortably at the underside of his chin. “Why do we even have to do this bullshit?”

TC heaved a long suffering sigh of someone who’d had to explain to a whiny toddler one too many times already – “because we’re a big deal. People want some good news for a change, and we’re it.”

“If people want a happy story, they can fucking watch the Hallmark Channel,” Rick growled. “This is the last of things I want to do on my To Do list.”

TC played along. He looked utterly unbothered by his uniform, the new Major insignia gleaming in the midmorning sun. “Oh yeah? What’s above it?”

“Chug a bottle of bleach, for starters,” Rick said.

The abrupt bark of laughter at his shoulder was worth the dark scowl from Nuzo and TC.

Thomas looked better than he had, but that was a pretty low bar. The same missing baby fat from Rick’s cheeks hollowed out Thomas’s entire face, making him look gaunt and worn. His hair was still too long for regs, but the admiralty let it slide, if only because Thomas wouldn’t let anyone close enough with a pair of scissors to cut it. He still wasn’t talking much, and rarely strayed any further than a few feet from any of them, but at least he was mobile. And alive.

He fidgeted with his pristine white uniform, pulling absently at the sleeves every few minutes to cover up the still healing skin graft scars.

“That’s a corker of a To Do list, brother,” TC said easily. “Anything else?”

“Well, if we’re still talking ‘Things I Would Rather Do Than a Press Tour’, then I’m going to have say eating a nest of spiders, getting kicked in the teeth by a mule, having recreational surgery to remove a testicle,” he animatedly counted off on his fingers as he prattled off worse and worse things, ignoring Nuzo’s eye rolling and TC’s look of abject disgust while watching Thomas’s smile grow to the point it crinkled the corners of his eyes. Worth it, Rick thought.

“Is there anything actually fun on this list of yours?” TC interrupted before Rick could come up with worse things.

“Food,” Rick said. “I plan to eat myself stupid now that we’re out of that godforsaken hospital. And I’m sorry, but German food is not my thing. I want an Americanized pizza, with something gross for toppings. I want whatever the hell that thing is,” he pointed to a six foot tall advertisement for something pink from Starbucks. “I want an all-American hot dog made from kangaroo meat and old boots.”

“That is not what hot dogs are made of,” TC sighed, making a face. “Shut up before you ruin all the things I’ve been looking forward to.”

They were sitting in the VIP lounge of LaGuardia, waiting on a ‘personal escort’ to some talk show – Rick honestly hadn’t been paying any attention when the general spoke. Fallon? Kimmel? SNL? Something that was supposed to impress him, and instead all Rick heard was ‘the first time you’ve been on American soil in over two years, and for the next six weeks, we have your entire lives mapped out for you – where you eat, where you sleep, who you talk to’ and he couldn’t shake the feeling it sounded suspiciously like they were still prisoners.

Just fewer bars and indoor plumbing.

They hadn’t been home in over two years – Rick hadn’t been state side in almost three. He’d been in the middle of back to back tours when they were captured. He almost forgot what it sounded like to hear people speaking primarily in a language he understood.

But his nerves were far from soothed just stepping onto American soil. They’d spent weeks in Germany recovering, trying to undo the damage done in a year a half, and Rick felt like it was like slapping a new coat of paint on rust – looked pretty on the outside, while everything still rotted away underneath.

They were flown first class from Bagram. Well, first from Bagram to the UAE, and then to the USA. The comfy seats didn’t mean much when he had to sit in the most uncomfortable uniform ever made for thirteen hours, with the military escort reminding them they weren’t allowed to drink in uniform.

When Rick had threatened to strip down then and there, the escort had relented, but he’d caught the exaggeratedly disappointed looks from the stewardesses. He’d smiled as they refilled his drink when out of the blue the thought struck him so hard he’d flinched, almost spilling it – would they still smile if they saw the scars?

He’d avoided any further attempts at conversation with them, just the general pleases and thank yous for service and tried not to throw up.

Nuzo laughed, interrupting the dark line of thoughts. “You idiots are gonna be the one doing the junket, not me.” He elbowed Thomas with half his usual force and tried not to let the hurt show when Thomas still noticeably flinched. “I guess married man, father of one doesn’t interest the people like three singles ready to mingle.”

“Don’t be hatin’ ‘cause we have the celebrity looks,” TC joked, fussing with his own dress blues that were still pristine.

“Yeah,” Rick piped in, slinging his arm around TC’s shoulders. “Look at these mugs. We’re gorgeous. And you somehow still have a bald head despite being stuck in a cave for 18 months and 11 days without access to a razor. Who would you want on camera?” He smiled broadly.

“It’s because Lara said no,” Thomas said quietly, before Nuzo could reply. He barely met Nuzo’s gaze, dark brown eyes looking away even before they connected. “And everyone is afraid of Lara.”

Nuzo stared for a moment. They all did. It was the first attempt at humor – actual humor, not dark, gallows jokes that made the therapists scribble madly in their notebooks to up his meds – since the Valley.

The ghost of Thomas’s former grin faltered, those same dark eyes that spoke more than the man did himself these days shifting away suddenly as he bit his lip, suddenly unsure if he’d overstepped an imaginary line.

It was more than a little crushing to see someone who once spoke so freely stop and second guess almost everything they said. Even to their friends.

Rick saved him.

Seemed like he was doing that a lot lately. But it gave him a purpose – a mission. And isn’t that what the counselor kept saying returning servicemen struggled with? A lack of purpose in the absence of mission?

Guess they were saving each other still.

“Thomas has a point, Nuz,” Rick said. “Lara is a lovely and terrifying woman. No fair getting her to spring you.”

“Are you trying to tell me that Lara, love of my life, sun in my sky, to whom the angels pale in comparison, is intimidating enough that she can bully an Admiral into letting her beloved husband out of an unwanted assignment?” Nuzo put a hand over his ribbon rack, mouth opened in feigned shock before shrugging one shoulder in agreement. “Damn right she is.”

The frightened rabbit look faded slowly from Thomas’s expression as they continued to banter back and forth, the familiar rhythm of their teasing soothing frazzled nerves better than any therapy. It worked in the cave, it worked at the airport.

TC and Nuzo were still talking, Rick occasionally butting in with an opinion that no one asked for or needed, just to keep things lively. But mostly he kept an eye on Thomas.

Thomas, whose attention waned easily these days, and more often than not, drifted back to less pleasant times. He fidgeted in place almost constantly, clenching and unclenching his hands, only following the conversation when voices were raised and even then, only to make sure it wasn’t a danger loud, before staring off into space again. The press conference they’d already had in Bagram was a nightmare – everyone wanted to talk to Thomas.

And Thomas held his own for a while. He really did. But the questions started to get a little too personal. Once he’d answered about finding something that let him help people, now that they were being early retired from their military service, the reporters took it as an invitation to ask him more invasive and personal questions that somehow also still made political statements out of it – like “Does that mean you don’t agree with the US’s involvement with Afghanistan?”, or “Do you believe that the military presence isn’t helping people?”

Rick was all ready to come to his brother’s aide, but TC beat him to the punch with a solid, rumbling: “You’re gonna ask a man who went through hell to solve a war that’s been going on since before we left Africa as a species?”

The following “get fucked” that even had flustered Thomas laughing because TC rarely ever swore, even in the Cave, probably had more to do with the abrupt end to the questioning, but…eh. It was worth the ass chewing from the higher ups.

Now he was starting to fidget again, despite the familiar bantering, pulling at invisible threads on his uniform as he tried not to make the constant rolling of his shoulders obvious.

“I’m bored stiff. You wanna come take a walk around the airport?” he asked, already heading for the door to the lounge. “Get some air? Stretch these legs? I think I’m losing circulation to my feet in these things.”

“Sure,” Thomas agreed, practically jumping out of his seat at the invite. “It’s stuffy in here.”

It wasn’t, but Rick let it slide. He held the door open for his friend, sending a quick ‘okay’ sign behind his back towards Nuzo and TC, letting them know he had this one.

The airport was crowded, but not claustrophobically so. The concourse was packed with people waiting for food and flights, the enormous floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the tarmac for people to watch incoming and outgoing flights making the crowd tolerable.

Except for the part where people stared at them as they walked around.

It had nothing to do with who they were – Rick doubted that many people really watched the news. But the military dress uniforms were eye catching. Something that he never minded in the past, but now felt like he was under a microscope. He found himself walking closer than necessary to Thomas, studying the ceiling with closer intensity than it probably warranted.

“I don’t think I can take this for another six weeks,” Thomas said, so quietly Rick almost missed it. Rick hadn’t been paying all that much attention, preoccupied with his own feelings of being under a microscope, but now that he actually looked at Thomas, he wasn’t looking so hot.

The damage done by the Taliban was a slow recovery. Damage done by raging infections and Thomas’s own recklessness was even slower. Long walks winded him still, but now Magnum was looking positively gray.

“I know…I know what we did was important,” Thomas said softly. “But…I don’t want to keep reliving it. Letting people ask us like it’s some part of a movie, or somehow entertaining. And the more I try to convince myself that these people…” he gestured absently with a flick of his hand that made him wince. “They’re the reason why it should be worth it, the more I keep thinking of that press release, and the more…the more I hate it.” The more he hated them.

Rick considered it for a long moment before replying, trying to channel his inner TC to find something that might actually mean something. “We took an oath to stand against all threats, foreign and domestic. We signed up to fight for them. Not to suffer for them. You don’t owe them more than you’ve given.”

Thomas shrugged like he didn’t believe him but was too tired to argue. The higher ups made the press tour a non-optional request. As long as they were still in, they were supposed to ‘obey the orders of those appointed over them’.

What was irritating was that Thomas used to have no problem telling the chain to get bent when needed. Or just pretending like he didn’t hear them in the first place. He even said some unpleasant things to the Taliban holding them prisoners, but now…now he just didn’t seem to have it in him to complain.

Like someone had snuffed that spark.

“But first things first – I’m getting out of this monkey suit.” He veered abruptly into the clothing store, boasting hoodies with ‘I heart NYC’ in every color imaginable and Yankees and Mets gear stacked to the ceiling. He almost gagged when he saw the outrageous pricing, but hey – he had back pay for a year and a half of hazardous duty coming his way. He could afford it.

They were supposed to stay in uniform while traveling, according to the military.

Well, they could go fuck themselves, Rick thought darkly. If he was gonna be gawked at, it was gonna be because people thought he was an overcompensating tourist – not a Marine who just returned from hell.

“Here,” he tossed Thomas an overpriced t-shirt. “Take that. I’ve never been more appreciative of airlines catering to the idea that at least half their customers have lost all their stuff in customs, but I am getting out of this uniform, and so are you.”

Thomas stared blankly at the plain black shirt in his hands. Rick watched as he carefully traced scarred fingertips over the soft fabric, touching at the collar before fingering the sleeves that would only come to just past his upper arm.

“It’s softer than dress whites,” he conceded. He almost headed for the changing room before he stopped, glancing back the racks. “I need something with sleeves,” he pointed out hesitantly.

Rick nodded his chin towards the display of hoodies. “Take your pick. Personally, I dig the pink one, so if you’re not down for looking like twinsies, pick a different color.”

Thomas laughed at that. Rick had never been ‘conservative’ when it came to civilian clothes – mostly because it annoyed everyone else, but as more than one woman had told him – ladies liked a daring man with more color in their wardrobe than that of Johnny Cash.

Their obscenely expensive clothing bought and tags ripped off, they headed back towards the lounge where TC and Nuzo were probably beginning to wonder where exactly they wandered off to.

Rick’s stepfather once told him ‘clothes make the man’, and for the most part, Rick flatly ignored him. But the change in Thomas was…tangible.

Dressed in jeans which cost more than a car rental, shoes better served for a teenager on a skateboard but were the only ones soft enough to accommodate sensitive scar tissue, and a hoodie two times too big for him, Thomas actually looked…relaxed.

No one was staring at him. No one even batted an eye as they walked past them – not even the ones who’d openly stared at the dress uniforms not twenty minutes earlier.

It was like they were invisible.

For the first time in a year and a half, no one paid any attention at all to them. Not to demand questions of them, not to decide who they were going to take away to the Pit, not to mock from behind bars, not to question whether they’d followed the doctor’s advice or if they’d eaten anything that day.

Nobody cared.

And.

It.

Was.

Marvelous.

“Like a magic cloak,” Thomas half whispered in awe. He still tugged at the long sleeves of the sweatshirt, but they were long enough he could actually pull the ends over his hands, hiding the scars completely.

It also made him look like he was fifteen.

But there was a kindling light in those dark, expressive eyes, and that was all that Rick cared about.

“Told you,” he teased gently, opening the door back to the lounge.

There was an indignant squawk of abject betrayal when TC saw them in civilian clothes.

“Really, guys?” TC gaped, a hand of mock betrayal going to his chest. “You gonna do a brother like that?”

Rick huffed. “Like we would leave you hanging.” He tossed a bag of clothes at the pilot, who caught them deftly in one hand before peering suspiciously inside. “No, I didn’t get you pink. We decided yellow was more your color anyway.”

“What in the hell is this?” TC demanded, yanking out a bumblebee yellow button up. “TM, is this your doing?”

Thomas shrugged innocently. “There’s a limited selection in the big and tall in an airport.”

TC scowled without anger. “Sure.”

“Nah, the kid’s right – you had your pick of that or lime green. I don’t know why they think a 6’2”, 240 pound man needs to be more noticeable, but it’s what you get,” Rick defended, even as Thomas shot another scowl his way at the mention of age.

“Nothing for me?” Nuzo asked. “I see how it is.”

“Your wife and kid are coming to pick you up in like an hour – don’t pretend like Lara and Jake aren’t going to have a change of clothes,” TC pointed out. “Watch the youngin’s – I’m getting out of this clown suit.”

Before Nuzo could protest, TC was out the door with a speed that belied his size.

Nuzo shook his head, then quickly darted his gaze back to Thomas who was looking out the floor to ceiling window at the parking lots, not paying them any attention. He met Rick’s gaze, cocking his head to one side, questioning.

How’s our boy?

Rick held a hand out and teetered it back and forth. Not great. But not terrible.

“Any word on our hurry up and wait status?” he asked aloud. Their flight had been bumped back in Dubai – they arrived two and a half hours ahead of schedule, and Lara and Jake had to drive up from Virginia Beach to pick Nuzo up. The others were left waiting – as per usually with the military – until someone filed paperwork to get them a ride. Their escort was supposedly off conversing with the USO representatives, but that was over an hour ago, and Rick not so secretly hoped they’d been forgotten.

“No news yet,” Nuzo answered, glancing at his phone.

Having phones again was just weird now. How fucking handy would it have been to just reach into a back pocket and call for help?

TC practically kicked in the door when he returned, grinning like an idiot, holding his arms above his head like the statue of Adonis. “I can move my arms again,” he crowed. He rolled his massive shoulders, relishing the freedom of movement out of the restrictive uniform. He pulled at the hem of the large shirt. “You know what, I ain’t even mad about the color. I look fantastic. I’m getting more of these when I get…”

The word they all dreaded died in his throat.

Home.

The only one who even had one was Nuzo, and even that came with its own perils. Trying to readjust after deployment was hard enough on married couples. Readjusting after…everything…seemed like an unwinnable purgatorial task.

“I guess this is just a temporary patch job, huh.” TC faltered. He glanced down at the bag that now held his carefully folded uniform. “We’re going to have to get changed again as soon as the guards – escorts – come back.”

Thomas flinched at the word guards, his shoulders coming up quick and sharp as he ducked his head, automatically making himself smaller than he already was. Somehow, it was made worse by the oversize sweatshirt – perhaps because it made him look even younger than he already did.

Nuzo had mentioned going to Hawaii back in Bagram, when Thomas quietly admitted he wasn’t ready to go home. But none of them had anything set up in Hawaii, either. Not for another six weeks, at least. The older man had reached out to Robin Masters, hoping the former journalist would be willing to help out the man who’s life made him a millionaire that owned half the island, but he’d only reached a very polite but very firm assistant who informed him that Mr. Masters was very busy on world tour, but she would pass along the message but couldn’t guarantee when he would be able to return the call.

“First of all, if they want me back in uniform, they’re going to have to wrestle me back into it,” Rick declared, crossing his arms over the Yankees emblem on his shirt. “And I plan to go out like a honey badger on meth.”

TC raised a questioning eyebrow at the metaphor but shrugged one shoulder in agreement. “Yeah. I can see that.”

“What if…”

All three heads turned to Thomas.

The younger man had one palm up against the window, fingers splayed out on the cold glass as it fogged around his hand. But he wasn’t looking up. He was looking down at the parking lot. At the rental car return lot.

They waited patiently.

“What if…we ran away?” Thomas asked, voice hesitant and barely above a whisper. “What if we didn’t wait around for them to decide for us? What if…what if we just left. We could just...go. Anywhere. Anywhere we wanted to.”

He shot a glance over his shoulder back at the group that was so cautiously hopeful, the first real spark back in his eyes since last September – and Rick realized he would’ve agreed to anything that kept that look on his friend’s face.

“I’m down,” he said immediately, before glancing back at TC. “Could use a pilot though.”

“Hell, yeah.” TC tossed his bag to Nuzo who caught it one handed. “Cover for us?”

Nuzo smirked. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll get Lara to do it.”

Fortunately, LaGuardia had an overabundance of rentals available, and while Rick pointed out the flashy sports cars in the lineup, TC argued against being forced to sit in the back seat with his knees up his nose at any point of the trip.

“Then don’t sit in the back!” Rick protested, pointing out the sport car again.

“I am supposed to believe that you and Thomas aren’t even once going to want to both be up front at the same time?” TC shot back and pointed to the SUV that looked like it would be better suited for a drive by or government agencies.

“What about this one?” Thomas asked.

The car had no business being there. It was almost fifty years old and completely out of place amongst the minivans and crossovers, but there it was – a 1968 Chevelle convertible, in mint condition.

“I think someone just parked it in the wrong spot, buddy,” Rick said. “I don’t think it’s a rental.”

Thomas leaned over the passenger side door, fishing into the glove box. “No, look,” he said, holding up a piece of paper. “It is a rental. It’s from Auto Classics Enterprise, apparently.”

“It gets like six miles to the gallon,” TC pointed out. “We’ll need to refill twice before we even get out of the city.”

Rick glanced up at him. “You got somewhere you need to be?”

“Just stating facts, bro. Though…” he considered the front seat and back. “It is pretty roomy.”

“It’s got class,” Rick agreed. “And leg room. Not to mention zero to sixty in six point four seconds.”

“We’re in downtown Queens, Orville. We’ll be lucky to see anything about 13 miles an hour until we get out of the city.”

“Why you always gotta be a negative Nancy, Theodore?” Rick asked, squinting up at the larger man before hissing: “Who hurt you?”

“I’m a realist,” TC corrected. “And one of us has to have at least one foot on the ground while you got your head up in the clouds.”

“There’s no roof,” Thomas interrupted, making both men stop mid argument. He looked sheepish, like he hadn’t meant to say anything aloud, but couldn’t take it back. “I’m just…sick of walls, you know? Of not being able to see out. We can get a different one, I just…” he shrugged, offering a faint echo of his normal Cheshire grin. “Something without a roof?”

Rick and TC glanced at each other. It’d been hard to deny Thomas anything even before they were captured – he was just that kind of guy. He called in a million favors, but he racked them and stacked them the same way some people stacked bodies. Everyone always owed Thomas because Thomas was always, always giving something. Hard to deny became impossible – especially since lately, he asked very little.

Rick sighed, held one hand out, palm flat and his other hand clenched in a fist on top. “On the count of three?”

“Nah,” TC grinned, giving Rick an affectionate shove. “You’re enlisted. I know your ass is broke, back pay or not. I got this.”

“That stings.”

“Not as much as your empty wallet.”

Poor investment or not, the car was what they needed. All of them, not just Thomas.

Rick was always a bit of a car fanatic – he liked anything that’s entire existence could be summed up with a robust vrooooom. And he could find one anywhere – no one was entirely sure how or where he’d drummed up a 1935 Rolls Royce in the middle of the Helmand province and most were afraid to ask.

TC appreciated anything with a solid engine and good mechanics under the hood that could accommodate his large frame.

Even the stop and go traffic of downtown New York couldn’t do anything to deter the animated conversation from the front seat.

“Isn’t this the car from Dukes of Hazard?” TC teased, easing the classic further out of the city while Rick had a minor coronary over it most certainly was not, how could you spin such lies?

He hadn’t been to NYC in decades, and he’d honestly forgotten how quickly the city disappeared once they were across the bridge. It didn’t exactly up and vanish in the blink of an eye, but as they crossed from New York into Jersey, the sky scrapers and towering apartment complexes with convenience stores and neon lights gave way to suburbia, the hill houses of the Palisades Parkway offering glimpses of the Hudson between the billion dollar homes as they cruised along to nowhere in particular. The million dollar homes became farm houses and ranches, vast expanses of green instead of concrete jungle and the rumble of steady traffic faded away to the occasional semi rig or farm truck. The roar of the wind dulled as they dropped from 60 to 30, winding their way deeper into the state forests of upstate Jersey and lower New York.

It was hard to believe that less than an hour from one of the largest cities in the US was rolling farm lands.

Shit, there were even cows.

Rick scrolled continuously through the radio channels, changing the station as soon as an ad came on or he heard someone talking instead of music. “You know, you would think in a year and some change, someone would’ve come along with more talent than Justin Bieber.”

“Talent isn’t what makes that kid famous,” TC argued. “Pop music hasn’t been about the music since the 70’s.”

Rick grumbled under his breath as he continued to tweak the dial back and forth before finally stopping on “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”, cranking the volume several decibels.

TC shot him an incredulous look. “This is what you stop on? This is what says bro trip to you?”

Rick smirked, putting both hands up in ‘white dude shuffle’ pose, the closest thing he could get to dancing while in the front seat of a car. “When men are confident enough to write songs about their friendships, then I’ll put those on – but until then, Cyndi has us covered.”

“You gonna sit there and deny, to my face, Queen’s ‘You’re My Best Friend’, or Bill Withers’s classic ‘Somebody to Lean On’?” TC demanded. “What about ‘You Got a Friend In Me’?”

“The theme song to Toy Story?! How is that better?”

“How is it not better than an 80’s women power ballad? TM, back me up here!”

When Thomas didn’t respond, TC risked a glance in the rearview as Rick whipped around as if he expected Thomas to have vanished from the backseat while they were driving.

But he was still there, sitting in the middle of the bench seat. Head tilted back against the seat with his eyes closed behind his sunglasses, arms above his head as he played with the wind currents like his hands were paper planes, lost in his own little world.

The dark shadows under his eyes from months of sleepless nights were lost in the bold noon day sun, and his clean shaven face looked years younger without the stubble and lines from worry and illness.

A smile as wide as the sky above them plastered across his face.

For the first time in forever, Thomas looked…well, like Thomas.

“Play whatever you want, guys," Thomas said without looking up. His too-large sleeves pooled around his elbows, and he didn’t seem to care, despite the still healing scars plainly visible. “The sun is warm. The grass is green. Today is a good day.”

#found family bingo #i decided to be nice to my characters #for once

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lovelylunarwriting · 6 years ago

Text

Yuta Soulmate!AU

Each soulmate has a timer on their wrist that counts down the amount of time until they meet each other for the first time

In college, the last thing you expected to be doing was going on a field trip.

You assumed that trips were just a thing teachers do to entertain bored elementary students, so when your professor announced the date for a day trip into the city to see some historical sights, you and best friend were pleasantly surprised.

“The trip will be three days from now!”, your professor announces and dismisses the class.

As you’re packing up your things into your bag, you notice the amount of time on your wrist timer has changed.

From three years to three days.

You shout and drop your things, accidentally scaring the hell out of your friend.

“Y/N?! What’s wrong?”, your best friend asks and you silently show her your wrist.

“No freaking way”, she says, grabbing your arm to inspect the timer closer. “Well you’re definitely not skipping class on that day”

Skipping was out of the question. Panicking for three days straight seemed perfectly acceptable. No one had said anything against freaking out.

Timers don’t usually change,,,, they’re predetermined by fate.

So why the hell did yours change and only give you Three. Days. Notice???

Everyone you asked had no plausible explanation, so by the day of the trip you’d accepted your newly altered fate.

And dress like a slammin’ hottie, of course.

Which is hilarious to your best friend who rolls into the train station wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“You’re looking especially cute for no reason”, she comments.

“No reason? Is meeting my soulmate not a valid reason?”

“I mean it’s not like they’re gonna hate you if you wear a t-shirt”

“That’s fair, I’d just rather be overdressed than under dressed . Helps me with nerves”, you admit.

Your professor shows up and gathers the group together, reviewing how the day is going to go.

“Remember to stay with the group at all times!”, he chimes and everyone follows him onto the train.

And yes, you do the whole “looking out the window and contemplating my future like I’m in a music video” thing, but if you don’t do it now, you’ll never get a better opportunity to.

You end up falling asleep against the glass in a matter of minutes though, and are only woken up when your best friend elbows you.

The two of you spend the day at the back of the pack, making sarcastic comments about the various tour guides and sights you encounter.

And of course you’re checking your wrist every minute out of sheer anxiety.

But something causes you to stop dead in your tracks.

After turning a corner to go to some museum, your counter jumps from fifteen minutes to six hours.

“What the actual fuck”, you say and your best friend finally notices your absence.

“What’s wrong?”, she asks, so you explain.

“What if it just keeps changing and I never meet them??”

“That won’t happen! We’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Think back- what exactly were you doing when it changed this time?”

“Well…. I starting following the group this way”, you say pointing towards your peers, who are staring at a statue with disinterest while your professor blabs on and on.

“Okay- then what if it changes if you go the wrong way? Try turning around”

“That’s stupid- why would it-”

“Just. Do. It”, she says with an amount of motherly scorn that has you automatically complying.

“It- it says seven minutes and forty nine seconds! Now forty eight! Oh my goodness this is actually happening, I think I’m gonna throw up-”

“It’s okay!! This is a good thing and they’re going to love you! It’s ensured by the universe sweetie”, she says.

By now the group has moved on, not realizing the two of you aren’t trailing behind them.

Finding your soulmate is more important that one assignment, so the two of you decide to skip.

You try to convince your friend to go back to the group but her exact words are “like hell I’m gonna miss this, now start walking”

And so you do. Street after street, the two of you scurry forwards, constantly checking your wrist.

You go North, the timer flips from seven minutes to seventeen minutes.

You turn around, and it goes down to five minutes.

This frustrating cycle last for like half an hour before you spot a guy across the street glaring at his wrist while the other boys around him laugh.

Which is essentially a mirror of your current situation- your best friend finds this all too amusing.

Slamming the crosswalk button, you shout across the traffic stricken road.

“HEY I THINK I’M YOUR SOULMATE!”, you yell and he somehow manages to hear you, but can’t find you in the crowd.

After what seems like y e a r s, traffic patterns change and you sprint across the street, grabbing the guy’s wrist.

3…

2…

1…

And zero, when you look up and lock eyes with this unfairly handsome man.

But hey- he’s yours, so thanks universe!

“His name is Yuta, by the way”, one of his presumed friends interjects after the silence and staring has gone on for too long.

“Yeah, and their name is Y/N”, your best friend chimes in and you just give her a look of “calm your titties plz and thx”

“Let’s get away from these losers”, Yuta says, sticking his tongue out at one of his friends Doyoung and leading you by the hand into a little coffee shop.

The two of you order your drinks, sit down in a little booth by the window, and then Yuta spills everything about how he’s been running around the city all. damn. day.

To which you’re like “bitch same but I’m taking the L in one of my classes for you”

And of course he immediately feels guilty, and even offers to come to your next class to explain to the professor about the whole situation.

You manage to get him to settle on paying for your coffee/tea/whatever.

“I’ll pay for this one, but you’re paying for our next date”, he teases, and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Date? Does this really count?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“Your friends are pressing their faces up against the glass behind you, for starters”, you say and gesture to the pile of boys making faces against the window.

He turns to the scene and dramatically sighs.

“You get used to it after a while, honestly. Except for Lucas, he’s always a surprise”

You wave for the boys to come in and are shocked to find your best friend in the middle of the testosterone pack.

By some freaking miracle and a lot of scooching over, all of you manage to squish into the booth and spend what seems like hours sharing stories and learning about one another.

And honestly,,, everything you hear about Yuta is all you’ve ever wanted in a partner.

Well- everything that’s true. Johnny tried to convince you that Yuta’s actually a lizard person, but that was fairly easy to refute.

Overall, the boys have nice things to say (it’s just also such a once in a lifetime opportunity to mess with a friend)

You went into the day expecting to find your soulmate, and ended up finding not only the love of your life, but a whole herd of friends as well.

Which is a hell of a lot better than any field trip, if you ask me.

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crystalelemental · 6 years ago

Text

I guess there’s new Sword and Shield news. You can expect salt, but perhaps not as much as you’d think.

Let’s start with this: Gigantamaxing or whatever the fuck it’s called is straight up just Mega Evolution downgraded to three turns. Fuck this stupid adjustment, this is absolutely ridiculous. Oh, but the new moves are sure gonna be great! Like the Rock one that just deals crazy damage and sets up Stealth Rock! Yeah, instead of nerfing the biggest problem with competitive, let’s just make it even more easy to do! Fucking Christ, you haven’t even shown off all the Pokemon, and you’ve somehow already broken competitive play worse than it already was. I hate this. It’s literally just, point for point, exactly the same concept as mega evolution, but for no reason, it’s adjusted to be some three-turn power-up with Z-moves built in for some reason. Because balance! I regret to inform you, Pokemon Company, that the problem here is no universal buff will ever play out for balance. By making this effectively a universal buff, you’ve essentially just made it so that Lando-T and Heatran can mega evolve. So if you honestly believe that this is going to make things equal, and that people will try out all sorts of combinations of Gigantamaxing or Dynamaxing of favorite Pokemon? You’re way more incompetent than I thought. You learned absolutely nothing from Z-moves.

That said...if this means that some Pokemon Dynamax, which is like a flat boost to stats, while others Gigantamax, which is considered a much more potent improvement on their stats, abilities, and typing? That’s essentially bringing back Mega Evolution, which is what I wanted in the first place. This means Mawile and Banette have something to work with. My only complaint is that it lasts 3 turns. That severely limits some of these mega forms. Venusaur is a good example. For three turns, it gains a ton of bulk...and promptly loses it, and is easily taken out again. Mawile is super powerful for a turn, but because it’s still slow, it’s reliant on Sucker Punch...which makes it easy to play around with no repercussions now. Banette gets to be super good, but good luck playing to its actual strengths of status spreading and priority Destiny Bond when you only have three turns to work with. It’s essentially bringing back mega evolution, but it’s also a severe downgrade for those Pokemon, meaning they take a serious hit.

Of course, all of this is assuming it’s actually just a different form of Dynamaxing. Like, the Serebii page specifies that Pokemon can only do this if they were caught in Max Raid Battles, which is severely limiting in its own right, but also implies that this isn’t quite mega evolution. Best case scenario, mega evolution is now considered some inherent thing within the Pokemon, assigned by whatever made them a Max Raid Battle Pokemon, which means you no longer need mega stones, they can just do the mega evolution and hold an item like Mega Rayquaza, but it’s been adjusted to have that level of power for only three turns. Worst case scenario, Pokemon with mega evolutions don’t have Gigantamax forms, and this is being considered a complete do-over on megas. In which case, please give Absol’s Gigantamax form a Fairy typing and Tough Claws, like it deserved.

Really, I’m still incredibly apprehensive, but this is, essentially, the return of Megas, with an attempt to rebalance the system. Which...is what they said they would do, and potentially could go over well. Only potentially, though. The Gigantamax Pokemon we’ve seen keep the same abilities as their base form, so there’s no guarantee anything good comes from this. But it’s at least a slight hope that they’re not just removing megas entirely.

On to other things. Not only are there version exclusives, but now the types in the gyms are different depending on the version! ...show of hands, anyone else think that’s a little much? I know we had Iris and that other guy in Gen 5, but they were at least both Dragon type, and the difference was mostly cosmetic. But now we have one version giving a Fighting type leader, and the other giving a Ghost type leader. I dunno. I’m not really mad about it, it just strikes me as a really odd choice. Their mains are Hitmontop and Mimikyu. Not surprised Mimikyu was favored enough to make it in, but you heard it here first, folks: Sword and Shield will be making Hitmonchan a competitively viable Pokemon. After all, one of the purposes of trimming down the Pokedex was to balance the meta, so this is hard confirmation that Hitmonchan will be competitive viable with this game’s release.

Version exclusives are starting to be noted, and...yeah. Thanks, I guess. Version exclusive Pokemon definitely isn’t a useless, awful concept at this point anymore.

New Pokemon, cool. One of them in Gigantamax form is a huge cake, so I guess that’s a thing? What kind of bizarre design is its base form going to ha-OH MY GOD THAT’S THE CUTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN! Alcremie is so precious. Please don’t evolve it. That’s actually my favorite now. Holy shit I love you tiny whipped cream child. And Gigantamaxing basically means it got a mega, so that’s pretty cool. Oh man, this is starting to win me over. Keep it coming, what else we got?

Okay Rolycoly. That’s a neat little thing. And apparently its new ability doubles speed if hit by a Fire or Water attack. Since it’s Rock, Water is dangerous, but it might be able to survive. Switching in on Fire attacks, though? That’s gonna be fantastic. Unlike Alcremie, who is perfection, I kinda hope this one evolves. It just looks like something that would have an evolution, you know?

Duraludon is pretty cool looking, and Dragon/Steel is a great typing, I’m kinda glad we got another. I hope this one’s good, but I’m scared it’s the pseudo-legend. It fights with Tyranitar. That implies this is a higher-tier thing. I want to believe that no 4x weakness means it can’t be the pseudo-legend, but...I don’t think that’s a requirement, considering we had Metagross, and I think Goodra counted as well.

That’s it for actually new ones, but I never commented on the last two: Yamper’s cute, and Impidimp is the stuff of nightmares, why did they make that the first Fairy/Dark type?

New characters are...fine? Fighting type leader seems cool, Ghost-leader seems kinda weird. Rose and Oleana are...interesting. I guess. Mostly Rose has me worried. He seems like a sports person. I know they’ve only mentioned the Pokemon League, but I still worry every reveal about seeing Pokemon Soccer as a thing.

Overall, I...I largely like this one. Mark it here, folks: this is the first good reveal for me since we started this. Not since the starter reveal have I felt positively about this game. Well...”postitively.” There’s still a lot of concern I have around Gigantamaxing, whether aspects of mega evolution are continued in this form or not, whether something like Gigantamax Gyarados is getting the Water/Dark typing with Mold Breaker, or it’s just keeping Water/Flying and Intimidate/Moxie like its base form, etc. A lot of my positive feelings on this come down to whether Gigantamaxing is really just a re-tooled mega evolution. If it’s mega evolution repurposed for a three-turn effect, and we can expect adjustments in the transformation, that’s fine. I will actually be completely okay with that, because at the end of the day, Gigantamaxing feels like it’s doing the same thing mega evolution did: giving more significant boosts to the weaker Pokemon that needed it. That is literally all I have ever asked of you, Pokemon Company. If you can deliver on that, I will retract my decision to not get this game.

Although I gotta be real, Alcremie is already making me reconsider on its own...

#pokemon sword and shield #pokesalt #kinda #I'm still counting it because I started off really salty

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