Tumgik
#i have finals week coming up
phantaloon · 4 months
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some of yall dont rely on a 35 year old white man singing "push on through" to keep going and not give up and it really shows
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expelliarmus · 4 months
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puppyeared · 2 months
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Alex and my farmer Cosmo (he/him)
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diningwiththeasquiths · 3 months
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Dining’s Cobra Kai + text posts {part 14/?}
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dalandan012 · 7 months
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Play limbus company and get yourself an old hag for free
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svtskneecaps · 10 months
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lukewarm take of the evening: y'all care too much about being ""outdated"". fellas this smp moves inhumanly fast. it is ok to CHILL holy shit CHILL. y'all are like "(posts BANGER ART) super late guys sorry" friend i am hitting you with a blanket i am snapping you with my metaphorical towel WHAT DO YOU MEAN SORRY. "(posts BANGER FIC) rip this is outdated now" WHO CARES???? I LOVE YOU, OK. ohhhh woe is us as the fandom at large for having MORE HAPPY PILLS ARC CONTENT oh no how outdated!! how could you be writing speculative fiction about how forever felt during happy pills :( slash SARCASM!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN!!!! THERE ARE SO MANY BANGER ARCS, WHAT, YOU THINK WE'RE COMPLAINING????? FOR GETTING MORE OF THE CONTENT WE LOVED????? oh no we're past the period where everyone thought green gay ninjas were like Dead Dead, my work is now outdated and noncanon :( WDYM. GIMME. A BANGER IS A BANGER IDC IF IT TAKES THREE MONTHS. you think rome was built in a day?? fuck you, baltimore, GIMME. my ass has been cooking a goddamn backflipo family fic since july when it was ALREADY outdated do you think i fear god??? "oh no, you're making an edit of slime's (attempted) egg murdering spree?? how could you, that was months ago it's irrelevant" SAID NO ONE EVER.
save your wrists kidlings ok carpal tunnel is no joke. CHILL!!!!! CHILL!!!!!!!! TAKE YOUR TIME SHEEEEEESH OK LOVE YOU <3
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moonkhao · 1 month
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hi.
#i know most of you didn’t even realize i was gone#but man…#my mental health was like in a state of 📉📉📉 in the past 30 days like we love being mentally ill and fucking insane <3#it was mostly bc i panicked and started obsessing over possible water damage in my flat kind of out of nowhere#like it started when my landlord came to check my bathroom bc my downstairs neighbours had water stains on their ceiling back in july#which had been caused by their shower curtain apparently but i was already spiraling when my landlord told me so i was sure it was my fault#i was assuming it was bc of me bc i had sometimes been spilling some of my bathwater and i was like WHAT IF IT HAS GONE THROUGH THE FLOOR?#and it didn't help that it has been hot af and very humid in my apartment LIKE WELL OVER 25 DEGREES AND 60% HUMIDITY#anyways i couldn’t shake this not matter what i tried and my fucking insane brain made me think i was going to get arrested for like#flooding the whole building or for causing some sort of mold infestation#i had SO MANY panic attacks; i wasn't able to sleep; i wasn't able to eat; i was on edge and panicky basically 24/7 so fun fun fun :D#and i kept waking up in the middle of the night and HAD to go check my walls or the space below my kitchen#it was compulsory like i couldn't not get up and go check and tbh i would've thrown out all of my furniture if i could've to check for mold#(and shhhh i know how fucking insane this sounds but having a mentally ill brain that's anxious all the time does suck ass sometimes 🥲)#(the worst thing about it tho was that i was SO AWARE of how insane about this i was being and yet i couldn't stop losing my mind over it)#(also i was so ready to move tf outta here bc i couldn't handle being triggered 24/7 which is why my mom let me stay with her last week )#i was so out of it that i couldn't even let myself do the things i usually enjoy... like at all#like watching my shows or spending any ungodly amount of time on tumblr... or replying to messages i got from people who i love#ig this goes to show HOW bad this actually was for me mentally bc usually tumblr and my shows are like my safe place#anyways we finally had a leak detection dude come over today and we had him check the water levels in my walls#and he said everything is fine and he specifically told me i should stop worrying about any water damage BC THERE IS NO WATER DAMAGE#he also said that the weather has just been insanely humid this year so it's not surprising that the humidity levels are higher than usual#i’m still a bit scared about some possible mold but ig this is good enough for now#i am aware how ridiculous this must sound for anyone who's reading this now but couldn't let it go not even with meds so let me live pls :(#TLDR I WAS GOING THROUGH IT BUT I AM BACK I THINK AND I AM MOST LIKELY GOING TO START BOTHERING YOU WITH MY GIFS AGAIN <3#AND I JUST REALIZED I HAVEN'T EVEN SEEN ANY OF THE HEART KILLERS STUFF YET ASIDE FROM ONE OR TWO PICS LIKE :(#OH AND I NEED TO START WATCHING SUMMER NIGHT ;_;#sabrina talks#@AIRENYAH GIRL I AM SO SORRY I WILL PROBABLY REPLY TO YOUR MESSAGES LATER TODAY OR TOMORROW MORNING ;_;<3
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the artblock be hitteth Harder than normal, for tis not normal artblock. woe. Wally be upon ye
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ainosgarden · 25 days
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can't stop thinking about lestat and his mindfulness coloring book from the beautiful fic love me at the ungodly hour by @pynkhues
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sukirichi · 1 month
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i’m gonna sound stupid for saying this but i’m acc very upset that real life is keeping me away from being a loser here 😔
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tommystummy · 6 months
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Like I said BuckTommy season 8 power couple but it would be great if Eddie has his feelings realization towards the beginning of the season and the midseason finale is him telling Buck and Buck just pauses. Looks at Eddie with tears in his big blue eyes and says “Eddie. It’s too late.” Because Buck is so so close to being in love with Tommy and he wants that to happen and moving on from Eddie was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do and he had to come back from the dead once. Eddie can’t just throw himself down as an obstacle right as Buck is about to cross the finish line and finally have a relationship that will last. It’s not fair to Buck. It’s not fair to Eddie. And we get left of that gut punch of a scene until the back half of season 8.
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demigod-of-the-agni · 6 months
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Spider-Man India, but... where from India?
A SUPER long post featuring talks of: cultural identity, characterisation, the caste system, and what makes Spider-Man Spider-Man.
I’m prefacing this by saying that I am a second-generation immigrant. I was born in Australia, but my cultural background is from South India. My experiences with what it means to be “Indian” is going to be very different from the experiences of those who are born and brought up in India.
If you, reader, want to add anything, please reblog and add your thoughts. This is meant to be a post open for discussion — the more interaction we get, the better we become aware of these nuances.
So I made this poll asking folks to pick a region of India where I would draw Pavitr Prabhakar in their cultural wear. This idea had been on my mind for a long while now, as I had been inspired by Annie Hazarika’s Northeastern Spidey artwork in the wake of ATSV’s release, but never got the time to actually do it until now. I wanted to get a little interactive and made the poll so I could have people choose which of the different regions — North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South — to do first.
The outcome was not what I expected. As you can see, out of 83 votes:
THE RESULTS
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South India takes up almost half of all votes (44.6%), followed by Northeast and Central (both 14.5%) and then East (13.3%). In all my life growing up, support towards or even just the awareness of South India was pretty low. Despite this being a very contained poll, why would nearly half of all voters pick South India in favour of other popular choices like Central or North India?
Then I thought about the layout of the poll: Title, Options, Context.
Title: "Tell us who you want to see…"
Options: North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South
Context: I want to make art of the boy again
At first I thought: ah geez. this is my fault. I didn't make the poll clear enough. do they think I want them to figure out where Pavitr came from? That's not what I wanted, maybe I should have added the context before the options.
Then I thought: ah geez. is it my fault for people not reading the entire damn thing before clicking a button? That's pretty stupid.
But regardless, the thought did prompt a line of thinking I know many of us desi folk have been considering since Spider-Man India was first conceived — or, at least, since the announcement that he was going to appear in ATSV. Hell, even I thought of it:
Where did Spider-Man India come from?
FROM A CULTURALLY DIVERSE INDIA
As we know, India is so culturally diverse, and no doubt ATSV creators had to take that into account. Because the ORIGINAL Spider-Man India came from Mumbai — most likely because Mumbai and Manhattan both started with the same letter.
But going beyond that, it’s also because Mumbai is one of the most recognisable cities in India - it’s also known as Bombay. It’s where Bollywood films are shot. It’s where superstar Hindi actors and actresses show up. Mumbai is synonymous with India in that regard, because the easiest way Western countries can interact with Indian culture is through BOLLYWOOD, through HINDI FILMS, through MUMBAI. Suddenly, India is Mumbai, India is a Hindi-only country, India is just this isolated thing we see through an infinitely narrow lens.
We’ve gotten a little better in recent years, but boy I will tell you how uncomfortable I’ve gotten when people (yes, even desi people) come up to me and tell me, Oh, you’re Indian right? Can you speak Hindi? Why don’t you speak Hindi? You’re not Indian if you don’t speak Hindi, that’s India’s national language!
I have been — still am — so afraid of telling people that I don’t speak Hindi, that I’m Tamil, that I don’t care that Hindi is India’s “national” language (it’s an administrative language, Kavin, get your fucking facts right). It’s weird, it’s isolating, and it has made me feel like I wasn’t “Indian” enough to be accepted into the group of “Indian” people.
So I am thankful that ATSV went out of their way to integrate as much variety of Indian culture into the Mumbattan sequence. Maybe that way, the younger generation of desi folk won’t feel so isolated, and that younger Western people will be more open to learning about all these cultural differences within such a vast country.
BUT WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH SPIDER-MAN INDIA?
Everything, actually. There’s a thing called supremacy. You might have heard of it. We all engaged with it at some point, and if you are Indian, no matter where you live, it is inescapable.
It happens the moment you are born — who your family is, where you are born, the language you speak, the colour of your skin; these will be bound to you for life, and it is nigh impossible to break down the stereotypes associated with them.
Certain ethnic groups will be more favourable than others (Centrals, and thus their cultures, will always be favoured over than Souths, as an example) and the same can be said for social groups (Brahmins are more likely to secure influential roles in politics or other areas like priesthood, while the lowers castes, especially Dalits, aren’t even given the decency of respect). Don’t even get me started on colourism, where obviously those of fairer skin will win the lottery while those of darker skin aren’t given the time of day. It’s even worse when morality ties into it — “lighter skinned Indians, like Brahmins, embody good qualities like justice and wisdom”, “dark skinned Indians are cunning and poor, they are untrustworthy”. It’s fucking nuts.
This means, of course, you have a billion people trying to make themselves heard in a system that tries to crush everyone who is not privileged. It only makes sense that people want to elevate themselves and break free from a society that refuses to acknowledge them. These frustrations manifest outwardly, like in protests, but other times — most times — it goes unheard, quietly shaping your way of life, your way of thinking. It becomes a fundamental part of you, and it can go unacknowledged for generations.
So when you have a character like Pavitr Prabhakar enter the scene, people immediately latch onto him and start asking questions many Western audiences don’t even consider. Who is he? What food does he eat? What does he do on Fridays? What’s his family like, his community? All these questions pop up, because, amidst all this turmoil going on in the background, you want a mainstream popular character to be like you, who knows your way of life so intimately, that he may as well be a part of your community.
BUT THAT'S THE THING — HE'S FICTIONAL
I am guilty of this. In fact, I’ve flaunted in numerous posts how I think he’s the perfect Tamil boy, how he dances bharatanatyam, how he does all these Tamil things that no one will understand except myself. All these niche things that only I, and maybe a few others, will understand.
I’ve seen other people do it, too. I’ve seen people geek out over his dark brown skin, his kalari dhoti, how he fights so effortlessly in the kalaripayattu martial arts style. I’ve seen people write him as Malayali, as Hindi, as every kind of Indian person imaginable.
I’ve also seen him be written where he’s subjected to typical Indian and broader Asian stereotypes. You know the ones I’m so fond of calling out. The thing is, I’ve seen so much of Pavitr being presented in so many different ways, and I worry how the rest of the desi folk will take it. 
You finally have a character who could be you, but now he’s someone else’s plaything. Your entire life is shaped by what you can and can’t do simply because you were born to an Indian family, and here’s the one person who could represent you now at the mercy of someone else’s whims. He’s off living a life that is so distant from yours, you can hardly recognise him.
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, yeah? But, again, you’re looking at it from that infinitely narrow lens Westerners use to look at India from Bollywood.
AND PAVITR PRABHAKAR DOESN'T LIVE IN INDIA
He lives in Mumbattan. He lives in a made-up, fictional world that doesn’t follow the way of life of our world. He lives in a city where Mumbai and Manhattan got fucking squashed together. There are so many memes about colonialism right there. Mumbattan isn’t real! Spider-Man India isn’t real!! He’s just a dude!! The logic of our world doesn’t apply to him!!!
“But his surname originates from ______” okay but does that matter?
“But he’s wearing a kalari dhoti so surely he’s ______” okay but does that matter?
“But his skin colour is darker so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?
“But he lives in Mumbai so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?
I sound insensitive and brash and annoying and it looks like I’m yapping just for the sake of riling you up, so direct that little burst of anger you got there at me, and keep reading.
Listen. I’m going to ask you a question that I’ve asked myself a million times over. I want you to answer honestly. I want you to ask this question to yourself and answer honestly:
Are you trying to convince me on who Pavitr Prabhakar should be?
... but why shouldn't i?
I’ll tell you this again — I did the same thing. You’re not at fault for this, but I want you to just...have a little think over. Just a little moment of self-reflection, to think about why you are so intent on boxing this guy.
It took me a while to reorganise my thinking and how to best approach a character like Pavitr, so I will give you all the time you need as well as a little springboard to focus your thoughts on.
SPIDER-MAN (INDIA) IS JUST A MASK
“What I like about the costume is that anybody reading Spider-Man in any part of the world can imagine that they themselves are under the costume. And that’s a good thing.”
Stan Lee said that. Remember how he was so intent on making sure that everybody got the idea that Spider-Man as an entity is fundamentally broken without Peter Parker there to put on the suit and save the day? That ultimately it was the person beneath the mask, no matter who they were, that mattered most?
Spider-Man India is no less different. You can argue with me that Peter Parker!Spidey is supposed to represent working class struggles in the face of leering corporate entities who endanger the regular folk like us, and so Pavitr Prabhakar should also function the same way. Pavitr should also be a working class guy of this specific social standing fighting people of this other social standing.
But that takes away the authenticity of Spider-Man India. Looking at him through the Peter Parker lens forces you to look at him through the Western lens, and it significantly lessens what you can do with the character — suddenly, it’s a fight to be heard, to be seen, to be recognised. It’s yelling over each other that Pavitr Prabhakar is this ethnicity, is that caste, this or that, this or that, this or that.
There’s a reason why he’s called Spider-Man India, infuriatingly vague as it is. And that’s the point — the vagueness of his identity fulfils Lee’s purpose for a character that could theoretically be embodied by anyone. If he had been called “Spider-Man Mumbai”, you cut out a majority of the population (and in capitalist terms, you cut out a good chunk of the market).
And in the case of Spider-Man India? Whew — you’ve got about a billion people imagining a billion different versions of him.
Whoever you are, whatever you see in Pavitr, that is what is personal to you, and there is nothing wrong with that, and I will not fault you for it. I will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from Central due to the origins of his last name. I also will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from South due to him practising kalaripayattu. I also will not fault you for saying he is not Hindu. I also will not fault you for saying he is a particular ethnicity without any proof.
What I will fault you for is trying to convince me and the others around you that Pavitr Prabhakar should be this particular ethnicity/have this cultural background because of some specific reason. I literally don’t care and it is fundamentally going against his character, going against the “anyone can wear the mask” sentiment of Spider-Man. By doing this, you are strengthening the walls that first divided us. You’re feeding the stratification and segmentation of our cultures — something that is actually not present in the fictional world of Mumbattan.
Like I said before: Mumbattan isn’t real, so the divides between ethnicities and cultural backgrounds are practically nonexistent. The best thing is that it is visually there for all to see. My favourite piece of evidence is this:
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It’s a marquee for a cinema in the Mumbattan sequence, in the “Quick tour: this is where the traffic is” section. It has four titles; the first two are written in Hindi. The third title is written in Bengali*, and the fourth title is written in Tamil. You go to Mumbai and you won’t see a single shred of Bengali nor Tamil there, much less any other language that's not common in Maharashtra (Western India). Seeing this for the first time, you know what went through my head?
Wow, the numerous cultures of India are so intermingled here in Mumbattan! Everyone and everything is welcome!
I was happy, not just because of Tamil representation, but because of the fact that the plethora of Indian cultures are showcased coexisting in such a short sequence. This is India embracing all the little parts that make up its grander identity. This scene literally opened my eyes seeing such beauty in all the diverse cultures thriving together. In a place where language and cultural backgrounds blend so easily, each one complementing one another.
It is so easy to believe that, from this colourful palette of a setting, Pavitr Prabhakar truly is Spider-Man India, no matter where he comes from.
It’s easy to believe that Pavitr can come from any part of India, and I won’t call you out if the origin you have for him is different from the origin I have. You don’t need to stake out territory and stand your ground — you’re entitled to that opinion, and I respect it. In fact, I encourage it!!!
Because there’s only so much you can show in a ten minute segment of a film about a country that has such a vast history and even greater number of cultures. I want to see all of it — I want him to be a Malayali boy, a Hindi boy, a Bengali boy, a Telugu boy, an Urdu boy, whatever!! I want you to write him or draw him immersed in your culture, so that I can see the beauty of your background, the wonderful little things that make your culture unique and different from mine!
And, as many friends have said, it’s so common for Indian folks to be migrating around within our own country. A person with a Maharashtrian surname might end up living in Punjab, and no one really minds that. I’m actually from Karnataka, my family speaks Kannada, but somewhere down the line my ancestors moved to Tamil Nadu and settled down and lived very fulfilling lives. So I don’t actually have the “pure Tamil” upbringing, contrary to popular belief; I’ve gotten a mix of both Kannada and Tamil lifestyles, and it’s made my life that much richer. 
So it’s common for people to “not” look like their surname, if that’s what you’re really afraid about. In fact, it just adds to that layer of nuance, that even despite these rigid identities between ethnicities we as Indian people still intermingle with one another, bringing slivers of our cultures to share with others. Pavitr could just as well have been born in one state and moved around the country, and he happens to live in Mumbattan now. It’s entirely possible and there’s nothing to disprove that.
We don’t need to clamber over one another declaring that only one ethnicity is the “right” ethnicity, because, again, you will be looking at Pavitr and the rest of India in that narrow Western lens — a country with such rich cultural variety reduced to a homogenous restrictive way of life.
THE POLL: REINTERPRETED
This whole thing started because I was wondering why my little poll was so skewed — I thought people assumed I was asking them where he came from, then paired his physical appearance with the most logical options available. I thought it was my fault, that I had somehow influenced this outcome without knowing.
Truth is, I will never really know. But I will be thankful for it, because it gave me the opportunity to finally broach this topic, something that many of us desi folk are hesitant to talk about. I hope you have learned something from this, whether you are desi or a casual Spider-Man fan or someone who just so happened to stumble upon this. 
So just…be a little more open. Recognise that India, like many many countries and nations, is made up of a plethora of smaller cultures. And remember, if you’re trying to convince Pavitr that he’s a particular ethnicity, he’s going to wave his hand at you and say, “Ha, me? No, I’m one of the people that live here in the best Indian city! I’m Spider-Man India, dost!”
(Regardless, he still considers you a friend, because to him, the people matter more to him than you trying to box him into something he’s not.)
*Note: thank you dear anon for letting me know that the third title was Bengali, twas my mistake for literally completely forgetting
#long post + more tags that kinda spiral away BUT expand on the points above AND kinda puts everything together concisely#BROS THIS IS AN HONEST TO GOD ESSAY#THAT HAS BEEN COOKING IN MY HEART FOR A WHILE NOW. SIMMERING FOR MONTHS BEFORE FINALLY BOILING OVER IN THE LAST WEEK#genuinely hope you read MOST of it because yes it has Quite A Lot Of Exposition but it all matters nonetheless#put in a lot of thought into this so i expect you to do your part and challenge your thoughts as well#you see how i'm not asking for you to listen to me. but to actually Think. i want you to cook your thoughts and add some spice and flavour#and give it a good mix so you can come out of this a little more wiser than before#because!!! yeah!!!! spider man india is just that!! he's indian!!!!! we don't need to collectively agree on where he comes from#bc it gets rid of that relatability factor of spider man. at the most basic level#think of it as a schrodinger's. he is every single culture and none of them at the same time. therefore none of us are wrong!! sick!!!!#pavitr's first priority is making sure HIS PEOPLE are safe. that's probably as far as we can go that relates him back to peter parker spide#he loves his people and working in the name of justice to FIGHT for HIS PEOPLE is just the duty/responsibility he takes up#it makes sense that he loves everyone and every culture he engages with bc that's the nature of spider man i suppose#if peter parker spidey acts as the guardian for the regular folk.. then in my mind pavitr spidey stands as the bridge uniting the people#because society as its core is very fragmented. and having pavitr act as a connection to other folks.... mmmmm beautiful#that's what i'm talking abouttttt !!!#anyways guys this is literally 3001 words on my document EXCLUDING THE TITLE. THAT'S 7 PAGES AT 11pt FONT. i'm literally cryingggg wtf#pavitr prabhakar#spider man#spider man india#desi#desiblr#atsv#across the spiderverse#atsv pavitr#indian culture#india#desi tumblr#what the fuck do i tag this as#agnirambles
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Happy Birthday to the bestest ninja man and worm on a string <3
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osamusriceballs · 10 months
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The Accident Part VIII
Atsumu x fem reader
Warnings: None
Words: ~ 2k
About: You finally meet your good friend &lt;3
Part I II -> Next part
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"You know each other?!"
You stare at Atsumu with wide eyes, who just stares at the short blonde next to you and raises his eyebrows as if he just had an epiphany.
"Where have I—wait. Karasuno. Karasuno's manager! You're a friend of Shoyo-kun!" Atsumu's eyes shine when he talks about Karasuno, and you furrow your brows when you remember that it's the name of Yachi's old school. "Shoyo-kun? Like—Hinata Shoyo?" You ask, recalling a bright orange-haired man you've met a few times already when Yachi had invited you to drink with her and her friends. They had always been a lively bunch, definitely growing on you the more often you saw them.
"Hmm, we work together," Atsumu nods, and you blankly stare at him while you try to digest that piece of information. You know that Hinata is a professional volleyball player. Very professional. Olympics level professional. He offered you cards to his games quite a few times, and you had politely declined, not wanting to cause him trouble, but he had sent you tickets anyway for a game in a few weeks.
That probably means that Atsumu is a professional player too—or he might be some kind of manager, according to the vague statement that they are working together. His physique and his posture tell you that he potentially could be an athlete- you would believe that in a second.
"Working together like... playing volleyball too?" You ask for clarification, tilting your head curiously while you watch his reaction. His lips curl into a smug smile, and the confidence he's radiating now makes your legs turn into jelly.
"Yeah. I'm a professional, just like Shoyo-kun. He loves my sets, by the way. Always aces them with no problem."
His eyes capture yours and you hang on his every word, definitely surprised by the development. You're married to a probably very famous professional Olympia volleyball player. You're not even sure what to think about this; the new details just made the whole situation more absurd and unrealistic. The only good thing is that Yachi apparently knows him. You could maybe get more information out of Yachi about him later.
"I—wait. The marriage—you married ATSUMU MIYA?" Your attention shifts to Yachi, who turns almost worryingly red, and you quickly step closer to her and reach for her arm, trying to calm her down. "Yes, but it's okay. He's a good guy, okay?" You smile encouragingly, and Yachi takes a few hasty loud breaths before she nods.
Atsumu watches you both and awkwardly clears his throat, a faint blush covering his cheeks at your words, and rubs the back of his head. "I'll leave ya two alone then. I'll call ya, y/n."
The last thing you see is his smile before he turns around and walks away with his hands in his pockets now. His broad back is evident, especially when he's wearing the white dress shirt, and you can't help but admire the man for a second before Yachi enters your sight once again.
"Y/n! - what happened?!"
xxx
"I can't believe you're married to Atsumu Miya!" she exclaims, still sounding shocked as she repeats the same sentence for the third time after you managed to tell her the fully story during the car ride. Both of you sit on her comfortable plush couch, adorned with a few of her stylish designer blankets. You're glad to be in a familiar place finally, but you can't help but to think about Atsumu. Will he call or leave a message soon? You wouldn't mind him calling today already- just to make sure you have his number. Nothing else. Just to clear that whole marriage thing. And nothing else.
You nod with a mild smile an attempt to calm her slight panic. Atsumu has assured you that everything will be taken care of, and you find yourself actually trusting him. "It'll be okay. You mentioned he's a good guy, right? I mean, he's friends with Hinata."
Yachi deeply inhales and takes a sip of her tea and nods. "He's close to Hinata. They get along really well. But let me tell you, Atsumu Miya in high school is something else. His serves were powerful and terrifying- not as much as today, but still enough to keep us all on the edge. Even Nishinoya had a hard time receiving them. Atsumu-san and Osamu-san managed to copy Hinata's and Kageyama's special attack effortlessly. It was insane. Maybe we can find a recording of it."
She grabs the remote to turn on the TV, and you lean forward eagerly at the thought of seeing more of Atsumu. "I wonder what Atsumu looked like in high school," you muse, taking a sip of your tea, its slight bitterness complementing the rich flavor. "He basically still looks the same. His hair got a bit brighter, and I think he grew a bit. And gained mass," Yachi responds, finding what she's looking for with an excited squeal. "Here!"
You both watch how a much younger Atsumu raises his arm and much to your surprise the whole crowd falls silent. "What- that's not normal, is it?" You turn to Yachi who seems slightly pale, probably because she remembers the moment vividly. "That's normal for Atsumu Miya. He was so good and popular that he got that special treatment. It helps him to focus. Oh, and watch his steps! You can tell what kind of serve he's going to make by the number of his steps."
You diligently nod and watch him serve again, taking six steps this time. The camera angle is a tad bit closer this time, and you don't fail to see his yellow-ish hair that definitely looks different compared to his looks today. He was very fit, even back then, but he is definitely more buff today.
You watch some more of Atsumu's powerful serves, his form screaming utmost perfection, and memories of the very same strong, muscular arms wrapped around you make heat rush to your cheeks. Yachi continues to share insights about his playing style, and you quickly try to focus on her words.
"...their combined attacks are difficult to anticipate. But look at how Kei blocks it!" You nod enthusiastically while you observe Tsukishima's impressive block. The video then shifts to another game, showcasing Atsumu in a black uniform adorned with yellow claw prints on his sleeves.
"Oh, that's from the MSBY game! You should have seen him; there's this amazing set—" Yachi's words trail off as the camera cuts to an unusual angle, revealing Atsumu's impressive thighs in full glory as he sets the ball with a ridiculously seductive smile. Your jaw drops at the unexpected sight- you know for sure you would have fainted if you saw that scene in live. How dare he look so good while setting the ball?? "Look, Hinata easily managed to hit that! And there's Bokuto-san!" You recognize the orange-haired spiker, sharing a smile and high-five with Bokuto. "I can't believe that they all actually know each other."
"Yeah," Yachi smiles and nods. "Hinata always talks about Atsumu-san. And Bokuto-san is close with Osamu-san, I think. I've seen him post a few pictures with Akaashi-san at Onigiri-Miya."
"Is that the name of his restaurant? Atsumu said he would take me there someday." Yachi gives you a side-eye, and reaches for her phone. "You've gotten pretty close, haven't you? You seemed really flustered when-" You quickly interrupt her, "No! I—I don't even know him. I don't even have his number. He was just being nice, we're not really close."
Yachi nods with a small grin, and hands you her phone. "Here. That's his Instagram. He's also often at Onigiri Miya. It seems like he's very proud of his brother's success. I though you might want to have a look at his life."
"Thank you." Yachi is truly a great friend, and you feel once again fond of being close to her. As you scroll through Atsumu's Instagram, you find a mix of game snapshots, some pictures with Osamu, in which he always has a plate full of food in front of him, and you can't help but zoom into the plates, impressed by the neatly arranged dishes. As you keep on scrolling, you almost gasp loudly when you find a very surprising collaboration with Calvin Klein, featuring a shirtless Atsumu from a very close perspective. At first, you keep on scrolling, too flustered at the sudden revealing picture, but curiosity makes you go back after a few moments, and you look at the picture again.
He looks good. His muscles are well-defined and he grins seductively for the camera while he poses, clad in only a ripped pair of jeans. It's almost unfair how ridiculously attractive he looks, but you still think that he looks even better when he's just woken up, just like he did this morning. You exhale loudly and curiously click on the comments.
"I would pay real money to have him like this in my bed." "Christmas came early this year- and so did I." "Bless the Miya genes. I'd gladly help to spread them." "Thank you Calvin Klein. I'll make sure to get a pair of these pants." "*FAINTS* HE'S SO HOT, I CAN'T-"
You're startled when you notice how the comments get even more unhinged and shameless as you keep on scrolling. "He... has a lot of fans," you remark, scrolling back to the top and handing Yachi her phone back, to which she nods heavily. "He had his own fan club in high school, and ever since the Japanese team won the Olympics, the whole team has been very popular. Especially Atsumu-san and Sakusa-san."
You hesitate before asking the next question, uncertain of what the answer might bring. "Is there a reason why he's single? He seems like a decent guy, looks good, and he's probably rich. Isn't he the perfect catch?"
Yachi furrows her brows, thinking. "I don't know, actually. It's probably the same as with Hinata and Kageyama. They focus a lot on their careers; they simply don't have time for dating. I also found out that most volleyball boys can be a bit... intense. It's probably hard to find a partner that understands their passion. They prioritize training over anything else. I've never seen Hinata skip a day of training, no matter what happens. Their partners must accept that they put a lot of their energy and time into their jobs."
"Ah," you simply nod, slightly surprised by the revelation. You would have assumed that they have a very lively dating life, but it seems like they just live for work. Sounds a bit lonely.
"I also think that some fans are a bit obsessed with their private lives. There was an incident before with Atsumu-san and one of their fans- but things have calmed down lately, so you should be fine." Yachi reassures you, reaching for a cookie on the couch table.
"I think that—" she is interrupted by the sudden sound of a ringing phone, and both of you exchange confused glances before realizing it's your phone. Yachi's eyes light up, and she squeals, "Maybe it's him—I mean, I could have gotten his number through Hinata, but maybe he's got some news—"
You fumble with the phone, the unknown number undoubtedly belonging to Atsumu. Taking a deep breath, you nod at her and hold the phone to your ear, answering the call with a simple,
"Hello?"
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magistralucis · 9 months
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"I'm right here." - Trazyn/Orikan (requested by @beril66)
(Drabble for a prompt fill challenge, prompts available here.)
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They debate the pros and cons for a while, but in the end Orikan gets his wish, as he must've always known he would. Trazyn feels some kind of way about it. It's odd - as he gathers the necessary tools and heads to Orikan's quarters, he feels not a single smidgen of hatred, only the weight of dread mixed with weary concern. This is not how he would've characterized his sentiments towards the Diviner before any of this happened. He feels out of himself, frustratingly passive, inadequate.
"Orikan."
But if the Overlord of Solemnace is not adequate for this task, no one else will be. He desires breath, deletes the notion from his engrams, and enters.
Orikan is lying silently on the ground. Sannet is watching over him. Outwardly the astromancer is closer to restored - his primary servomechanisms have regained their function and the necrodermis 93% regenerated, the scratches buffed out and his carapace polished a rich turquoise - but Trazyn doesn't need to scan him to know that little about Orikan's mental state has changed. He sends an interstitial greeting, receives but a tiny blip in return. Trazyn dismisses his Arch-Cryptek with a nod, then with some effort, kneels down beside Orikan.
"Don't suppose you want it done to the tiles." He says out loud, more to himself than the astromancer, then dares the slightest touch with a fingertip upon the other's blackened spine. Orikan tenses, a shiver passing through his circuits. "I'll be gilding below those (gesturing at the three orbucula along his spine), then your clavicle-collar, and your headpiece. Has Sannet updated you on my process?"
A small nod. Trazyn heaves a sigh-analogue. Three whole decans have passed since that fateful battle, and just as long their cohabitation in Solemnace - but Orikan is still so afraid, and refuses all attempts to clarify the problem. Hardly an encouraging atmosphere where hands-on work is necessary. Still, for Orikan, he will do his best.
"... Good. If you've no other qualms, dear colleague, I will begin."
-----
They don't talk. Not about each other, not even loosely to fill the time. Trazyn's working at the same speed as his living self once did, which is rather slow for necron engrams, and in the absence of Orikan's jabs and insults he finds himself dwelling on the strangeness of the other's request. No one among their kind has needed to hand-gild anything since biotransference. Few individuals remember the art at all, and besides, they have decorator-scarabs for the purpose. Trazyn certainly isn't painting on his own raiments whenever he's damaged or switches bodies, and he loved gilding with his hands, it was his finest skill among the scribal arts.
But even when Trazyn lived the practice was considered old-fashioned. It's not an art he imagined Orikan, with his dislike of the past, would be caught dead asking for. Their world has shifted about them and maybe it's everything Trazyn has ever wanted, except he knows they're not the things Orikan would've usually wanted, and the thought of the other's discomfort bothers him more than he'd admit.
(Then again they never thought all that seriously about being caught dead, full stop.)
The hand holding the brush trembles. He is thinking illogically again.
(Trazyn only foolishly thought they had.)
Enough of this. Trazyn forcibly focuses his oculars elsewhere and redirects extra core-flux to his fine-motor actuators. It's easier because he's not facing Orikan. The spaces between the orbs and his spine are narrow, and while Trazyn can zoom in visually for the little details, he has no choice but to physically lean in close to actually let his brush pass over those areas. He tries to be discreet about it, but ultimately he must hold Orikan against him as he works, or else lie beside him for a clearer view.
He's seldom been this up close and personal with Orikan without dying. Nor with anyone else, not in this context: the living Trazyn's handiwork belonged to books and scrolls foremost, stone second, with the occasional jewelry-burnishing for interest. And even if he were only working on those (and not Orikan's body), remembering how it was done before is not the same as putting the work to practice, especially since Trazyn's current technique is different to how it was done before. There's a brush and there is gold, and therein ends the similarity. Trazyn's pigments are no longer bound with gum, but with fluid living metal, which adheres directly upon Orikan's body once painted. There is no need for varnish, nor the bite of regal acid, nor heat produced from anywhere other than their cores. Trazyn's own nanoscarabs are following along, tidying up the edges and weaving the gold layers into necrodermis at a subatomic level. His artisan's pride suggests a filigree finish, though his rational side suspects Orikan won't care for it.
Nevertheless he ought to bring it up at some point. It's a pretty touch, a dignified thing. Trazyn finishes gilding the lowest orbuculum down Orikan's spine, sits up with the faintest creak of his knee-cabling, moves away.
The astromancer's hand darts out of nowhere to grab his wrist.
Trazyn bristles. Literally bristles, the epidermic layer of his necrodermis rippling visibly as his subconscious prepares for an attack. It dies down as soon as he regards Orikan, and the immensity of the panic radiating from him; no need to run a diagnostic scry, nor even ask what's wrong, since the Diviner is incandescent with alarm-patterns from every functional node. Without a word Orikan drags himself to kneeling, crawls forwards - then collapses right against Trazyn's ribcage, clinging on for dear life, or whatever passes for its illusion nowadays.
"Orikan!" Trazyn's voice crackles, then fuzzes out of his vocal emitters entirely. It comes back dampened, soft, despite his best efforts. "What are you... oh... oh, damn it all."
There's no answer. But the point is loud and clear: Orikan needs his company, he won't be left alone. This was never about mere gilding - something happened to Orikan during the brief moments of his godhood, and Trazyn's presence is the only thing that's been grounding him ever since, for he's the one other proof Orikan has that the interdimensional horrors could be overcome. "I was only going to move to the other side, you know I wasn't going away." Trazyn says quietly as he puts down the brush, sitting up as straight as his back will allow. He supports the other's frail body in his arms and drapes one half of his cloak over him. "I'm right here, Orikan. It's all right."
They're pressed turquoise against turquoise, core-flux burning hot. Trazyn would not have believed, once upon a time, that such a happenstance could've occurred in any other context than his unfailing triumph over Orikan: he'd have been all too happy to see the Diviner crushed, made centrepiece or vassal or a slave, the gold and turquoise proof of his ownership more than anything else. Those fantasies feel distant now, like they're a different lifetime and a dozen different Trazyns away. In the present day Trazyn the Infinite is merely staring down at their hands, two charred and two unblemished, his oculars dim and sad as he clasps their fingers in comfort.
Fleetingly the archaeovist recalls this was how the Nihilakh nobility welcomed additions to the dynasty. The newcomer, usually a child or a foreign spouse, would be granted a ceremonial robing of the dynastic colours followed by gifts of gold and turquoise goods. Seal-rings for a new groom, hairpins for a bride, amulets and jeweled rattles and gold-embroidered toys for the newborn babes. Trazyn has never had cause to perform this ceremony himself and remembers nothing else about it, and he certainly doesn't think Orikan had anything like this in mind - but as far as welcoming Orikan to his household goes, he supposes this is the most benign way they could've gone about it.
"My dear Orikan." He soothes, watching the glimmer of Orikan's discharge nodes slowing to a quiet blink, and rests a warm palm atop the other's cranium. "I will not leave you. Take as long as you like."
-------------------
(Notes: This is a piece exploring a headcanon that Orikan wears Nihilakh colours because Trazyn gifted it to him post-TIATD, presumably during a recuperating period on or near Solemnace. Orikan got battered to hell and back during that battle, it's doubtful Trazyn would've let him go in that state; since I also enjoyed writing about necrontyr!Trazyn's scribal duties in Unravel recently, I've brought back the chrysography/hand-gilding angle for this piece. 🥰 It struck me as a low-key but very intimate image.)
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magnolia-sunrise · 1 year
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the halloween special, i mean, Medieval AU continues>> the arrival of the grievously wounded Kingsguard disrupts Bastien's very isolated, very drunk rural village life - but in much different way than he expected. somehow, miraculously, Wolfgang slowly recovers, and the two of them spend many evenings sharing wine and stories by the fireside, finding each other to be pleasant company.
but how long will the vampire be able to resist the call of the priest's blood >:3
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