#i refuse to not be chill about ships anymore

[sophsicle]

do you like bartylus

sure

*puts on cowboy hat and rides into the sunset*

[rhiannonsknife]

Do you think Lottie's parents would let her poor best friend (cough cough, her girlfriend) visit her in Switzerland?

Like imagine it, we're together before the crash, she disappears and we lose her, she comes back and she's 'different' and silent. It's sickening upsetting to see happen to the person you love.

Trying to help as best as possible but just as there's improvement, she's shipped off. After a while she is finally allowed visitors and we're greeted with 'our Lottie' (the Lottie we saw with the bob cut, acting somewhat normal when she calmed her roommate down ?)

- 🌿

— YOU’RE AS FAR FROM ME AS MEMORY

— warnings: hurt/comfort. angst. established relationship. post-crash lottie & gn!reader.

— a/n: after receiving some lottie requests, i finally sat down to edit this old draft. i’m so sorry it took over a month to finish 🌿 anon! i hope you like it <3

before the crash, back when you and lottie were inseparable, practically two halves of the same whole, you were hers, and she was yours.

you weren’t the same, far from it, but where she was softer, quieter, you had no trouble filling the gaps. the differences never mattered. not to her. not to you.

you were her safe place, her person. it didn’t matter what anyone thought, not the other girls on her team, not even her mother, with her sharp eyes and even sharper comments.

the disapproving glances, the subtle digs about how you spent too much time at their house, how you were ‘a distraction’, none of it ever phased lottie. she would just roll her eyes, brushing it off like it was nothing. ‘ignore her,’ she’d say, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door.

and for a long time, nothing could get between the two of you. what did change that, in the end, was the crash.

when the plane goes down, you lose her in the worst way imaginable: not to death, but to the agonizing unknown. there’s no closure like this, no way of saying goodbye, just the silence that follows the chaos and a stretch of empty days that bleed into weeks, into months. 19 torturous months. you cycle through grief, hope, and despair as the world gives up on the girls one by one.

you never do.

you hold on to her in the only way you know how, clinging to every memory to keep whatever remains of her alive: the sound of her laugh. the way lottie would say your name when no one else was listening, soft and unguarded.

even as the days go on endlessly and everyone around you insists it’s time to let go, you refuse to believe she’s really gone. you don’t care that the world seems to move on without her, without any of them. you don’t.

because in your heart, in your stubborn, aching heart that refuses to let go, you know lottie is out there. somewhere.

and then, against all odds and after almost 2 years, she comes home.

she’s thinner than you ever could have imagined, gaunt and hollowed out as she steps off the plane. the shadows beneath her eyes seem to belong to someone else, someone you’ve never known and her face bears the mark of whatever things she’s been through out there.

a new scar cuts across her face, a jagged line of red against her pale skin and her eyes don’t look at you. they don’t meet yours as she steps forward, as if the world around her is something she can’t quite make sense of anymore. lottie’s alive. she’s standing right in front of you, but somehow it feels like she’s still a thousand miles away.

she doesn’t speak at first. not to you or anyone else.

the girl you remember is gone. in her place is someone entirely different. someone guarded. quiet.

lottie flinches at any loud sounds, her body tensing, an instinctive reaction that feels so foreign. her hands are twitching at her sides when she’s anxious, restless, unable to stay still even when she’s trying.

at night, it’s even worse.

the first time you hear lottie screaming in her sleep, it chills you to the bone. it’s not words, nothing coherent, just these sharp, guttural sounds that tear from her throat, like lottie is fighting something in her dreams, something that’s trying to get her, that won’t let go.

you rush to her side immediately, gripping her hand, whispering her name until she wakes up, gasping and drenched in sweat. still, lottie doesn’t say anything at all. you can see it in the way she trembles, in the way her body curls into itself, that she’s seeking comfort in a world that feels too big, too loud, too overwhelming.

physically, lottie has come back, but it feels like a part of her has stayed behind in the woods where they’ve been found.

you visit her every day, bringing her little things; flowers, books, her favorite snacks. you tell her stories about school, about what she missed.

you know she’s listening. you feel it in the way lottie sometimes glances at you, the way her eyes flicker over your face, as though she’s trying to remember something. but she doesn’t speak. not yet.

one day, you bring a photo of the two of you from before the crash: you, wearing her soccer uniform. lottie, with her arm slung around your shoulder. both of you grinning for the camera.

you place it gently in front of her, your fingers brushing hers as you do. for a moment, there’s a shift. you don’t know if it’s the picture, or just the sheer act of bringing a piece of her past into her present, but something stirs in lottie then.

her fingers hover over it, trembling slightly as though she’s unsure of how to react, but it’s enough to make your heart race. lottie’s lips part, and her breath catches, but instead of saying anything, she simply shifts. slowly, she drapes her arm around you, just like she did in the picture.

it’s not a verbal response, not the reunion you’ve imagined a thousand times, but it’s more than you could have asked for.

you feel the familiar weight of her arm around you, the warmth of her body leaning close. for the first time in what feels like forever, she feels like your lottie again.

slowly, she starts to come back to you.

a nod here, a faint smile there: small but significant changes, each one another glimmer of the girl she used to be.

the first time she speaks, it’s barely more than a whisper: you’re sitting in her room, reading aloud from a book you brought, when she suddenly says, “that’s dumb.”

you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. “what?”

lottie looks at you, her brow furrowed like she’s trying to piece together how to have a conversation again. “the book,” she says, her voice hoarse. “it’s dumb.”

tears spring to your eyes as you laugh, relief flooding through you. “it kind of is, isn’t it?” you agree, setting it aside. “you want to pick something better next time?”

she doesn’t answer, but the corner of her mouth twitches, and she nods.

and just when you start to feel like everything is falling back into place, just when things begin to feel like they’re normal again, it happens.

her parents announce they’re sending lottie away.

it happens suddenly, without warning or time to prepare. one moment, everything is tentative and fragile but steady, and the next, it all shatters.

her mother pulls you aside, her face determined. she explains, almost rehearsed, that it’s for lottie’s own good, that she needs ‘specialized care’ they can’t provide at home.

the next time you see her, her suitcase is already packed.

lottie doesn’t say anything about leaving. when you ask her how she feels about it, she just shrugs, as though it doesn’t matter, as though she has no say in it at all. there’s no fight left in her, not like before.

but when you hug her goodbye, your arms wrapped tightly around her fragile body, you feel it: lottie’s hands clutch the back of your jacket a little too tightly, her fingers digging into the fabric, her breath shaky against your shoulder. you know that she doesn’t want to go.

“i’ll write to you,” you promise with a stolen kiss to her temple. “every day. i mean it.”

lottie doesn’t respond, just nods faintly. and then she’s gone.

the months that follow are almost as unbearable as her time away had been, only this time you know that she’s alive. somewhere out there, across an ocean, in some place that you can’t even imagine, with no real way of knowing what’s happening to her.

theres nothing to find about the facility her mother had told you about, where her parents have placed her in the hopes of fixing what can’t be fixed.

you write to lottie constantly and tell her everything: how much you miss her, how you’re counting down the days until you can see her again, how impossibly quiet it feels without her even though she barely spoke at all in the time before she left. you write her about the little things, too: what the weather is wiskayok is like, updates on your favorite tv shows, silly memories that make you think of her. anything to make her feel like you’re still there with her.

for the longest time there’s no response to your letters.

you try to tell yourself it’s because she’s busy, that maybe the clinic has rules about correspondence, or maybe the letters are just getting lost in transit.

deep down, you’re terrified, scared that lottie is slipping away even more than before.

then, finally, you get one back.

lottie’s handwriting is messier than you remember, shaky and uneven, but it’s unmistakably hers.

she doesn’t say much, just that she’s okay, that she’s adjusting, that she misses you too. there’s one part you cling to, one line that you reread a hundred times: ‘i promise I’m going to be okay’.

you don’t even realize you’re crying until the tears blur the ink on the page. it’s not much, but it’s enough. for now, it’s enough.

over time, the letters start coming more frequently.

at first, they’re short, simple updates on how her therapy sessions are going, what the clinic is like, little details about the group activities they have her doing.

as the weeks go on, they start to feel more like her. she tells you about her roommate, shares stories about the other patients. lottie even slips in a joke now and then, and when she does, you can’t help but smile.

and then, after what feels like an eternity of letters, her parents finally agree to let you visit.

the building is tucked away in the swiss mountains, its clinical white buildings surrounded by green hills and snow-capped peaks in the distance. it’s beautiful, serene, even, but the moment you step through the doors, the atmosphere shifts: inside, things feels too still, the walls too white, too sterile. the faint buzz of fluorescent lights and the quiet murmur of staff members moving through the halls only add to your unease.

you’re directed to the common area, your fingers twisting anxiously in your lap as you wait.

you instantly drop them when lottie walks in.

the moment you see her, you freeze. you barely recognize her: lottie’s hair is shorter than you’ve ever seen it, barely brushing past her jawline, but she looks less hollow, less outside of her own body than she did when she stepped off that plane.

then her eyes meet yours, and her entire face lights up. for this one moment, it’s like nothing’s changed. that smile, the one you’ve missed so desperately, breaks through.

“hey,” lottie says, her voice steadier than you expected.

“hey,” you echo.

neither of you moves.

you’re not sure if you should hug her, if that’s too much, if she’s even comfortable with something like that. before you can overthink it, lottie closes the distance between you. she steps forward and wraps her arms around you, holding you tightly.

instinctively, you bury your face in her shoulder, your breath catching as you fight back tears.

“i missed you,” she murmurs, voice muffled against your shoulder.

“i missed you too,” you whisper back.

you don’t let each other go for what feels like forever, and even when you do, lottie’s hand lingers on your arm, like she’s afraid you’ll vanish if she lets go entirely.

the staff gives you a few hours to spend together, and you’re determined make the most of it.

lottie walks you through the clinic’s garden, catching up on everything she’s missed. she listens, really listens, and for the first time in so long, you feel like you’re finally connecting again.

when she starts to open up, she tells you about her therapy sessions, how hard it was at first to trust anyone there, but that it’s getting easier.

“i’m not…fixed or anything,” she says at one point, glancing at you hesitantly. “but it’s better. i feel…calmer”

“you don’t have to be fixed,” you say firmly, giving her hand a squeeze. “you’ve always been enough, just as you are”

lottie looks at you for a long moment, her eyes softening. “thanks,” she says quietly.

the two of you keep walking, but her hand stays in yours.

as the visit winds down, you find yourselves sitting together on a wooden bench near the edge of the garden, where the mountains stretch out in the distance.

lottie rests her head on your shoulder, her short hair brushing against your neck. her fingers graze against yours absentmindedly, tracing patterns on your skin.

her touch is light, moving as if guided by instinct. you smile as lottie traces a small circle, then angles downward into a triangle, her movements branching out with sharp lines. the pattern shifts, ending in a soft curve in the palm of your hand.

“do you think they’ll let you visit again?” she asks, knowing your time is running out.

you turn your head slightly, resting your cheek against her hair. “i’ll make sure of it,” you mumble. “they’re not keeping me away from you.”

lottie tilts her head slightly, just enough to glance up at you. “you’re always so sure of everything,” she smiles.

“not everything,” you admit, chuckling. “but this? you and me? i’m sure about that!”

when the staff approaches, lottie lifts her head, and you feel the loss of her weight against you immediately. she stands slowly, her eyes never leaving yours.

“you’ll write me?” she asks.

“every day,” you assure, standing up to face her. “and i’ll be back as soon as they let me!”

before you can fully process it, lottie steps forward and wraps her arms around you. the hug is different from the one when you first arrived: this one feels like a goodbye, like she’s holding onto you with everything she has left.

“i don’t want to let go,” she whispers, so quiet the staff won’t hear.

“i’ll come back for you,” you say as you clutch her tighter.

she pulls back just enough to look at you, her hands still clutching your jacket like it’s the only thing anchoring her. “you’re sure about that?”

“always,” you tell lottie firmly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

finally, the staff clears their throat, and you know it’s time. she hesitates before letting her hands drop. “i’ll see you soon,”

“soon,” you echo, watching as she turns and walks back toward the clinic.

you hold onto the hope that next time will be different. that with each visit, she’ll feel a little less like a stranger, and someday, when she finally gets to leave this place, she’ll feel like your lottie again, the one you’ve been waiting for all this time.

the one you will wait for, no matter how long it’ll take.

— c.ai

[starlightiing]

Pierresteban & Rain

Send me a pairing and a prompt <3

@racingliners - Pierresteban & Rain

The rain doesn't even feel cold against his skin anymore.

The drops still pelt him with a biting force, like acid, eating their way through his skin and sending their chill surging through his veins to wrap mercilessly around his pounding heart. Esteban doesn't even know why he's here - not really - but his feet are rooted into the concrete, unwilling to move away from this one specific spot in front of the Alpine garage. His eyes are fixed on the name Jack Doohan, easily pasted over his own name like he had never been there at all.

Like he hadn't spent the last five years of his life in that garage, fighting tooth and nail for a team that repaid his dedication with a blunt knife to the back, deep enough to shatter through bone and rip into the delicate skin of his heart like it meant nothing.

And perhaps that really is what the team thinks of him now, with their hands washed clean of him.

It hurts in ways that Esteban isn't ready to admit. The bitter cold settles into his bones and freezes him from the inside out and he knows he shouldn't care. The last thing he should be doing is dwelling on his hasty parting from a team that had been more than happy to ship him off into the next set of willing arms at the expense of his last race with the team. He has to force himself not to think about the helmet he had carefully crafted for his last race with the team that had been such a big part of his life and career for the last five years.

And yet.

"What are you doing out here?" comes a gentle voice filtering in from behind him, familiar and warm in ways that Esteban loves and hates at the same time.

His feet refuse to move, but he turns his head back to look at Pierre.

"I don't know," he admits carefully, feeling the weight and intensity of Pierre's gaze on his face. The rain is falling a bit harder now, soaking through his pants and sneakers the longer he stands out in it. "What am I doing here?"

Pierre is quiet for a moment, stepping into Esteban's line of sight and scrutinizing him with those fierce blue eyes of his. They're a particular shade that Esteban knows well - he sees the very same hues in the morning only moments following the sunrise when the sky brightens with life, or glittering peacefully in the subtle waves of the harbor as ships sail beneath the warm summer sun.

Or, most painfully, they remind him fondly of the color of a blanket he still owns from childhood, battered and worn but no less warm and comforting - one that shielded he and Pierre both from the harsh winters out on the track as kids - unwavering and unyielding.

And oh, Esteban thinks, how Pierre is much the same.

"You should come inside. It is too cold out here, and you are soaked." Pierre says, very matter of fact. He speaks with such confidence, as he always has, and it almost tricks Esteban into thinking he's welcome in the Alpine garage, the very place Pierre insists he go to shield from the weather.

And he knows firsthand he is not.

"Oh no, I am not welcome here anymore. Ollie made that very clear." Esteban bites back, managing to keep at least most of the bitterness from his tone. "Not even to say goodbye."

Pierre frowns then, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It's clear by his reaction that none of the arrangements made had been communicated to Pierre, and Esteban can find at least a minor amount of comfort in that. At least he himself was not the last to know.

"Look, I don't know what happened, and I don't think I want to know, but if anyone has a hard time with you being in the garage they can come talk to me about it. Let's get you out of the rain."

It's a grand gesture coming from Pierre, but Esteban's traitorous feet still refuse to move. If he steps foot in that garage, he'll just be met with emotions he isn't ready to face yet - and the last thing he wants to do is upset Ollie even further. This may not be his team anymore, but Esteban knows firsthand what they are capable of when provoked.

He feels Pierre's warm fingers brush against the skin of his arm, and he sucks in a trembling, sharp breath. "I can't. I will go back to my hotel in a few minutes."

Pierre's frown deepens into something that reeks of concern and, god forbid, pity. It makes Esteban's hands curl into fists at his sides, the suffocating feeling of irritation and betrayal seeping into his skin like a sponge.

It stays quiet between them for a few beats, tense and unforgiving, until Pierre finally breaks the silence, "I'll go with you."

"Why?" Esteban counters, his tone sharp but not unkind. "You are busy, I'm sure."

"Not too busy to come say goodbye properly." Pierre says, his tone carefully curated to warmth and something else Esteban cannot quite identify. "Unless it was easier for you to just leave, of course. You can do that, too."

Esteban takes another deep breath, holding it tight in his lungs for a few moments before letting it out in an agitated huff. "No, you idiot." He states with a grin, small but ever-present. It's enough to encourage Pierre to do the same. "I cannot just walk away from you. You know I have never been able to."

Pierre's eyes widen then, seemingly startled by the raw admission from Esteban - which is perhaps a fair response. Esteban is many things, but forthcoming with his emotions in front of Pierre Gasly? Unheard of.

"Good. Let's get you out of the rain before you catch a cold."

Slowly, confidently, as with everything Pierre does, his hand slips into Esteban's slightly larger one. Their fingers easily part for one another, slotting together like pieces of a puzzle, created specifically with the intention of being connected together until/if the harsh and cruel wiles of fate were to rip them apart.

And oh, how fate has tried.

And, to either their benefit or detriment Esteban will never know, how she has failed.

[dealingdreams]

Hmmm fuck it some random head canons I have...

The first time Qimir makes Osha to smile he tries to be all chill about it but randomly just smiles throughout the day super proud of himself

Osha likes to fuck with him occasionally just to see his reactions

Qimir doesn't actually know his true name anymore.

He's extremely patient with her while training, doesn't go easy on her, pushes her when it's needed, but he also seems to sense when he needs to back off.

They do fight, not often, but their fights are mostly instigated by Osha trying to put emotional distance between them...it doesn't work

Osha gets slap happy when she's tried

Qimir has nightmares he refuses to talk about. He only talks about it once to try to coax Osha into telling him about her nightmare after she wakes up screaming and crying

I think there are hints of this but Osha has force visions that show her a bit of the future.

Qimir won't initiate anything sexually intimate with Osha at first. He waits until she asks him for anything to actually go there...but as they get closer he does get a bit more protective and a bit more touchy with her. Lots of yearning eye contact from both of them.

Osha sleeps on the ship when she's mad at him and Qimir spends the first night this happens afraid she'll leave, but now he knows it's just a comfort thing for her having spent so many years on a ship.

Anyways that it for now...I have a lot lol

[dipendenteconad]

Some LiuHan/BiKang headcanons for MY soul (SFW) pt. 3/?

How do you see their relationship? Because I imagine it to be very discreet, at least during the first weeks. While I believe Liu Kang to be more chill about his relationships, Bi-Han tends to make a big deal out of everything, and he did have to get used to having a partner at first (not that I imagine Liu to be Bi-Han's first, but probably the first actual serious relationship if you get what I mean?). So, he wanted to make sure he and Liu would really work out before making things "official", that's why he'd ask Liu Kang to keep their affair a secret;

Though, after some time passed, and their feelings for each other grew more and more, Bi-Han grew tired of always sneaking around. Liu Kang respected his wish to stay secret: he never tried to rush things or to force Bi-Han into coming out to his brothers, but eventually, the cryomancer admitted he didn't want to hide him anymore. Y'know, he finally understood he was deep in love. He refused to mix his work/role as a Grandmaster with his personal life, but he trusted his family to support him;

Which is what happened. Kuai and Tomas definitely suspected something already because his constant visits to Liu' place were getting suspicious, but they never dared to comment on it and waited to Bi-Han to tell them something first. They def teased him a little at first but if he was happy, then they were too;

As I said before Liu Kang is a big romantic in my opinion, I just know he was so happy to finally be able to be open with Bi-Han (while respecting his need of space and privacy ofc). Would they show affection in public, in your opinion? I think yes, but rarely. Liu Kang would definitely love to leave quick kisses on Bi-Han's cheek or put an arm around his waist, small gestures that don't look like a lot at first but that are still capable of melting Bi-Han's heart a bit;

Also them being public means that Liu Kang doesn't have to hide his heart eyes anymore whenever he's gazing at Bi-Han;

It might look like Bi-Han is the colder one in the relationship, or that he doesn't care about things (even outside of ship discourse, I see people headcanoning him as cold and rough a lot), but the truth is that he's very caring and remembers every little detail about the people he loves: he would listen to Liu Kang talk for hours without ever growing tired; he works on gifts months in advance because he wants them to be perfect; he always writes Liu letters when they are away from each other; he knows the other man's tastes like they're his own; and so, so on;

Bi-Han especially enjoys writing, as it helps him put into words his emotions in ways talking could never allow him to. Whenever he has a moment of quiet, he sits at his desk and frees his mind of all the thoughts that have been bugging him for days. In particular, each letter to Liu Kang reads as a heavy confession, and Bi-Han wouldn't trust anyone besides Liu to read them. In response, Liu's answers never disappoint.

Short post for this round. Even if this is a series of multiple posts, you don't have to read them as connected to each other. I may write something once and then say another thing that contradicts it. I don't have single interpretations for them, and I'm very open when it comes to headcanons.

[drippingmoon]

Another Get to Know Me

Tags courtesy of @sleepy-night-child and @splashinkling aaand thanks a lot you two, I loved seeing yours🤩❤

a band you don't like that many others do

Hmm. I'm not really keeping up with people's music tastes anymore (except for you guys). But in middle school, everyone was obsessed with Panic! At the Disco, while I just couldn't vibe with them, so I was mildly worried I'd get defenestrated for it. I didn't, though the chairs did (my class was unique in that they'd slingshot chair seats out of the window by thing them with curtain beads, and they'd kinda just peacefully swing in and out till recess was over)

least favorite animal and why

Nightfriend, I feel like you're making me commit sins (though not really since insects are animals, but it does not feel so??), soo, I raise you: earwigs. Like. My Good Sir. Was there any need for you to grow pincers on your arse to look like you're gonna pull my brain through my ears? No? So please.

hot fandom take

I don't really have any. My fandoms have always been veeery small, even limited to one person (me. Waving, hello!), I'll just hand everyone hot tea and chill🍵

do you wear any jewelry, if so, what's your favorite piece

Not a jewelry person. I did use to have a kitty brooch... but the thing with brooches is, they are perfect for self-poking especially when you're so naturally inclined, so I gave it up.

a movie others liked that you didn't

Ouch, I'm really so out of touch with movies, and these days I'm watching what's very much not popular with people (except for Interstellar. Interstellar is baby). Probably any of the Pride and Prejudice adaptations, I had to go through them for a course, and you couldn't pay me to sit down with them again.

three things you love about yourself

*sees the question and shakes it like a snow globe*

These things so do not come naturally to me. Probably because I'm the type never to think if I can do something and just act, so pride just feels like spur-of-the-moment joy. Though, I'm really starting to think that's just what pride is.

Perfect, actually! So, that I just do stuff, probably my ability to entertain myself, and that I refuse to let life feel like a race. I'm here for the journey.

a place you hope to visit in the future and why

Iceland! Iceland! At night! When I can finally see all the stars, and very importantly, it'll be that delicious shade of freezing, and SNOW! I miss biiig snows so much!! And I want to share it all with my best friend🥰💜💙🥂

an actor that gets on your nerves and why

Am I supposed to know names?

things you're excited about in the near future

Ooooh, you find out like this I'm a bit of fraud come next week. I have goals to put an ungodly amount of chilli in the puff pastries I'll make next week, mostly because I wanna see for myself how painful it can get😈 and, oh, a lot of very awkward and very hilarious dancing, but with how silly it is, it energizes me like nothing else. (And it's still leaps and bounds classier than the 1967 Far From the Madding Crowd adaptation of Troy's... fencing mating rituals. Why was I made to watch that with mine eyes🤣🤣)

least favorite ship in a fandom you're in

I'm in a fandom? Since when? Jokes aside, probably Tomoyo and Kurogane from CLAMP's Tsubasa Reservoir, because HELL NO. Tomoyo crushes hard on Sakura, and you just can't separate Kurogane from Fai. You can't. It'd cost him an arm and maybe a leg also this time.

what's the most toxic fandom you've been in

Oh no, I just make some tea and detox whenever it's the case. I am not a social person, so it helps

list three things you find beautiful about life

Hnnngh, getting to talk to someone in the wee hours of the night when it feels really special, the wind and how it'll numb my fingers but rekindle everything else in me, and how you can grow to love so many things you wouldn't even have thought about before. I love being surprised by time.

any dreams for the future

My personality is such that, from time to time, I just won't dare make a sound from fear they'll just slip through my fingers. I am taught to wait and see.

But this is the rest of the time, SO

I WANT TO KEEP WRITING FOR THE REST OF MY DAYS, AND NEVER FORGET THE THRILL AND JOY OF WATCHING MY STORIES DEVELOP BEYOND MY WILDEST IMAGINATION, OO-RAH!😍👏👏🤺

how are you feeling today

A bit like someone's stomped on my face (sleep; my fault, this time, but the lack of required hours keep me hostage), but also? Energized. Ready to go. And I absolutely never rest😈

These were really pleasant, so if anyone wants to hop on and grab some tea🍵, I'm keeping this tag open for you! I love talking😊

[georgies-ftts]

my thoughts and opinions on this weeks episode as someone who didn’t have time to watch last weeks episode, has never watched live american telly before and has discovered a new found hatred for your adverts. Also i swear a lot.

let’s begin

(spoilers obviously don’t be a knob)

1. he cannae be captain he’s only got two stripes on his epilette why are we focusing so much on this man

2. Bobby eyeing up that gun I like that (the acting)

3. this guy is giving me uncanny valley and i don’t like it

4. hehe dongle

5. i mean fair enough… in and out just like he said

6. Hen love of my life where the hell have you been loca

7. “and you won’t be anymore either” that’s actually dead funny to me

8. husbands that saw together survive trauma together <3

9. “everyone survived” i know foreshadowing when i see it

10. there’s a lot of drunk driver hatred (as deserved) somethings gonna occurr

11. oh he’s dead… lol karma fuckhead

12. Hen, i love you but why can noone on telly give me actual realistic CPR… break them ribs girl

13. christ these american adverts are weird

14. let me tell you advertising prescription medicine isn’t actually a normal thing to do

15. I don’t know boss man am no a dr but that’s an awful lot of blood are you sure you should still be breathing????

16. “Are you happy” “Yeah, Yeah I am” i have a feeling that’s all about to change buddy

17. just me or can anyone else not see a fucking thing that’s going on this episode why’s everyone in the dark for?

18. moving on from that i love the lighting in the office scene… chefs kiss

19. EXCUSE ME SHE WAS DOING HER JOB, NEXT YOU’LL SUSPEND HER FOR CODLING THE DRUNK DRIVER AND GIVING HIM TEA AND CHEEK KISSES PISS OFFFFF

20. Why do American comm’s systems always fail whenever you actually need them

21. They were axed to pieces. I will let you off -_- this time…

22. “I didn’t shoot him” honestly… same i hope you get yer pay out boss

23. Athena please for the love of god pop a paracetamol or a codeine and chill the fuck out

24. cause it has never been hard enough for them you just had to add a bastard bomb

25. ITS BEEN 5 MINUTES WHY MORE ADVERTS

26. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ADVERTISING TO YOUR CITIZENS

27. The Rookie ad i love it carry on

28. If he wasn’t under the influence then he was just being a cunt and hen had every right to react as such thankyou very much

29. Oh my fuck what is happening - don’t tear them apart i’ll start crying

30. Bitch you’re taking on water stop being a pussy and help

31. “Don’t test me.” Queen, you rag his arse

32. “port stabilisers are gone” surely you should be tilting like a bitch right now or did i miss a frame

33. MORE FUCKING ADVERTS????

34. why’s that lizard from london?

35. WHY ARE YOU ADVERTISING DEMENTIA MEDICATION THAT IS LITERALLY ADVERTISED ALSO AS A DEATH PILL WHAT DO YOU MEAN COMA AND DEATH THATS NOT HELPING

36. “i didn’t save him either” he quite literally refused your help despite being detained

37. didn’t get that SS Menow reference… try the Mayflower next time

38. “Saving the ship” “course she is” GIVE THEM ONE MOMENT OF PEACE PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU

39. okay good they are tilting like a bitch i will shut my mouth

40. NO STOP TILTING LIKE A BITCH I DONT CARE ABOUT REALISM I TAKE IT BACK NO

41. HOW MANY MORE ADVERTS DO YOU NEED

42. i don’t know but all your meds just seem to be doing the opposite of.. you know… keeping you alive.

43. woah therapy flash back get me one of those

44. you forgot to mention imminent death in your therapy session Mr Sir

45. “We did what we had to do” YOU’RE ALLOWED TO LIVE TOO.

46. “I couldn’t save my first family and I can’t save you either” and what if that was my last straw Robert Nash

47. ABC you can tone down the writing now i’m fucking sobbing

48. FUCK YOU AUSTRALIAN MAN I WAS CRYING MY EYES OUT

49. glad the us also have those Haribo ads

50. first time in my almost 20 years of life where i’ve seen an ADVERT for ANTIDEPRESSANTS that also actively make you MORE DEPRESSED

51. Hen i knew you were slaying you’ve never not slayed <3

52. no need for it was there mr boss man? no didn’t think so

53. You have no jurisdiction past the Gulf of Mexico??? ummmm??? distressed cruise ship full of your citizens???? idk??? do something????

54. oh. welp. no surviving that one, have fun with poseidon my loves

55. i don’t know about you but once i’ve been capsized like that in anything bigger than a kayak im giving up…

[noxioustoxin]

I'll Be Here, Always

Mentions: Implied Abuse (Warning), Suicide (Warning), fluff, tender love and care.

Small Authors Note: "I'm just looking to do some major self-care, but I do hope you all enjoy my short story." ^^

——————————

It had been about a month, almost two now, that Dazai even bothered to check his notifications. His phone lights up throughout the night with halfhearted check-ins. He didn't have to look to know who the messages were from, the soft chime told him exactly who it was. "Bastard, the hell are you ignoring me for?" "You better not be dead, or I swear shitty Dazai."

It was the same thing every few days or so that it started making his head spin. Normally Dazai would've written a snarky comeback, teasing the redhead about how much he seems to care. In reality, Dazai cared. But even his little dog couldn't pull him out of this one. Dazai could vividly recall the moment when things began to spiral, which wasn't uncommon for him. He was known to be suicidal and depressed, but this time, he took the liberty of writing a note. His fingers ached as he scribbled out his goodbye, which was only to one person, but he wouldn't dare let that letter be seen. Not by his slug. He wasn't that cruel though many would argue with that statement.

Even with the meticulous work he put in to hide his letter, he still somehow found himself in Mori's office. Dazai's letter was there open against the desk, and he could hear a scoff from his boss. It was obvious to him that Mori had already read the contents of the letter. "When will you give up on this futile endeavor? Aimlessly reaching for an outcome you can't achieve. You can't die until I say you can when I provide the means." His voice swirled around Dazai's mind like filthy venom, reminding Dazai with that choice of words that he was chained to him. Typically, Mori's words were nothing more than that. Words. But that unsettling feeling that stirred within his stomach made his limbs suddenly feel like lead. He felt bolted to the floor. But in his mind, the only thing that mattered was Chuuya. Not Mori, not being chained to him and the organization, not his suffering. Just Chuuya.

Flash forward to the present, Dazai sat uncomfortably atop his small mattress. His eyes were misty and puffy from the tears that refused to fall. The shipping container in which he called home carried an ominous chill, one that didn't feel right. "Mackerel… please talk to me."

His phone lit up the small area. He knew it was Chuuya, but what was he supposed to say? That he once again wanted to leave the world behind because of his pain? No. Not that again. So instead, Dazai curled up into a fettle position and sighed heavily into his knees. After what felt like hours, in reality, it was only about twenty minutes, a knock jolted Dazai away from his misery. He sighed and uttered a soft "go away," but that was quickly met with louder and more forceful knocking. The sound made his heart sink, and he knew he couldn't ignore it anymore, so reluctantly he scrambled off of his bed and made his way to the door. His hand hesitantly reached for the lock and slowly opened the door. "What?" His voice shook as he tried to upkeep his typical cold exterior until he was suddenly wrapped in a tight embrace. That familiar warmth quickly enveloped his body, and his body relaxed for the first time in those two months. Chuuya. Dazai opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't find the words. The words weren't needed at the moment, but instead, Chuuya simply led him over to his bed and pushed him down against it. Those usually piercing blue eyes were softer and gentler as he cupped Dazai's cheek. "You don't have to go silent whenever you hit a low period," Chuuya began softly, "I can handle it. I want you to understand that I know you still struggle and suffer with those thoughts." He paused to press his forehead lightly against Dazai's, the gesture so tender that it caused butterflies to form in their stomachs. With that, Dazai's tears finally fell as he quickly tugged Chuuya onto the bed with him. His taller frame fits rather perfectly with Chuuya's smaller one. A soft chuckle could be heard from the redhead as he reached his hand up to play with those messy brown curls. "Come on, we aren't staying here. I've got canned crab at home, let's get you a nice bath and a hot meal." Dazai only cooed in response as he nuzzled his head into the crook of Chuuya's neck.

"Okay, Chibi… I love you." "I love you too Mackerel, now let's go."

Dazai knew that Chuuya did mean what he said, he meant that he was here for him even through his dark times. Maybe, just maybe, this was what his meaning in life was. No. Not maybe, Chuuya was his reason. And that was all he needed now. "I'll be here, always." And Dazai believed it. Completely.

------------------------------ Again, I truly hope you all enjoy this little, short story!

[foogadooga]

rant about sams

the sams fandom needs to stop harassing people (rant)

(TW: mentioned abuse, harassment, suicide, murder almost all mentions of horrible things come from the show itself not the fandom)

so to the sams fandom, stop harassing people. it’s not just shadow but I notice it with other things in the fandom. you like old moon? your treated like a monster. you don’t like lunar? why not? you point out suns bad behavior? it’s trauma, get over it.

on top of that the fan creations scare me. particularly the ship. the fact that 9/10 relationships in this fandom are sibling relationships should say why ship them is inappropriate. Lumini? Fine! Monty/moni x earth? Perfectly fine! Canon! Lunar x moon? THEIR BROTHERS! I even saw eclipse x lunar! Like why?? one of the more popular ships in this fandom is Solar x moon, and yeah their not blood related but they still consider each other siblings, and then sun x bloodmoon? Like yes, sun killing bloodmoon and bloodmoon torturing sun and his family? That’s some strong chemistry right there

Speaking of bloodmoon, the bloodmoon fans are out of control Sometimes. I love bloodmoon too, he’s probably my secon favorite character but let’s be realistic. Bloodmoon was dealt a horrid set of cards in life, he was built to hurt people and no one wanted to help, he’s been used and abused by everyone in the show, few are innocent in bloodmoons case. But will he be redeemed? Of course not! He doest’t want help anymore! Maybe before their death they had a shot but not now. hes killed tons of people and makes a game out this, he refuses to get better but the fandom still claims his innocence.

Speaking of characters that can’t do any wrong in the fandoms eyes, sun. He killed a child, gaslite and emotionally abused the old moon until moon thought the only way to make himself better was the die and hope he came back and was good enough, he threatened lunar, he pressured earth into driving and put her in very dangerous situations and probably other stuff, and yet we pass it off as trauma? When does trauma stop making it fine? It sure as hell wasn’t when moon hit sun.

And speaking of moon, the moon haters are crazy. i stand by the fact I prefer old moon, and I stand by the idea that the only reason moon was killed was because moon could do anything and the fandom would hate him for it. Im not excusing the fact moon hit sun during their fight episode, but i feel like the fandom needs to step back and realize sun was ALSO a problem. moon was getting better and was doing everything to get better and I know that doesn’t take it away, but the fandom needs to chill. Moon restraining sun after he killed bloodmoon was 100% acceptable. Sun was a danger to those around him and not listening to reason. the fandom was making all of these things like “how would sun charge, how would sun do this, or that” claims that made them more mad when no one ever said anything about those things.

Ruin too. He gets on my last nerve. I hate the way he treated bloodmoon, and then got redeemed. he was so creepy. I don’t have much to say about him but he makes me so mad.

[beanghostprincess]

Usopp and Nami being synced up. Nami is more irritated and quick(er) to anger. while usopp is more emotional and low mood his negative personality really shines through during his time of the month.

Nami would usually spend time with Robin she's the only one on the ship she can tolerate at that time. She would steal one of the guys shirts to wear she's not in the mood to put an outfit together or wear something revealing. She took Franky's old Hawaiian shirt. it has drinks and cocktails all over it everyone calls it the bloody Mary shirt because when she wears it, everyone knows she's on her period and she shouldn't be messed with.

Usopp is in bed mostly when his monthly nightmare starts. He's fatigued, bloated and doesn't feel like doing anything unless he has to. wearing an oversized shirt that Used to belong to jinbe but out of kindness it's now his (usopp accidentally bleached it during wash day and he let him keep it) He usually self isolates staying in the cabin. If he's not up by 11am they know why. He usually ignores everyone except for sanji, she (t4t of course) climbs in bed with him and holds him. Lightly rubbing circles on his abdomen humming softly. She puts on a kettle of hot tea and refills it regularly for them. She also yells at Brooke if he tries to take some. She didn't make it for him! She made it for her darling Nami and precious usopp!

They both prefer to eat by themselves Nami in her office and Usopp in his work shop. When they are together it's in the garden (sanji makes him go outside for some sunlight and fresh air can't stay in bed all day) and they usually don't talk to each other they just sit together stuffing in solidarity. You'd think they share products but they don't Nami wears cups it's the most convenient while usopp sticks to pads only. Nami tried to convince him to use tampons at least but he just doesn't like them. When they have to fight they're always checking each other for leaks and will give each other pain killers if they run out. Nami is very open about her period she never had a problem discussing and all the guys on the boat are comfortable with the topic. ( "Ain't no shame when it comes to mother nature"-Franky) usopp on the other hand with a mixture of dysphoria and his fist experience being bad he doesn't bring it up. He refuses to talk about it, mentions it, or acknowledges it when it's happening. He doesn't call it a disease anymore like he used to when he was little (you will still die in 7 days if it is brought up tho that still stands ) but a stomach ache.

Robin and Zoro are synced up but they're just fine. You wouldn't even know they were on their period unless you ask. While Nami and Usopp go through hell zoro and Robin are just chilling. fuck them honestly

This is extremely real and I relate to this on a personal level because I'm the worst when I go through my period. It's a mix of being extremely irritated, sad, or horny, and these two idiots are a menace when they're on that time of the month. I love the whole thing about Sanji staying with Usopp and holding him,, It's just so soft. Sanji would be the most caring lover,, This reminds me I have to finish that fic about Usopp on his period I fucking hate having to work-

And Nami is pretty much like me when I'm on my period except that my cramps are probably a lot worse, but I absolutely love her rage being multiplied because it makes so much sense. And her wearing cups is just so in character and accurate-

Btw I agree the whole crew is extremely open-minded about these things and they don't give a single fuck about them talking about this freely. It's my fav thing ever because that's just how it should always be. Everywhere. And I'm sure they'd all support each other a lot <3

The thing I don't agree on, though, is Robin. Because I'm 100% sure Zoro doesn't even know when he's on his period but I headcanon Robin as somebody with the worst period cramps ever but trying to go through it silently to not worry anybody. It'll pass eventually. But Franky is just the most caring boyfriend when it comes to this and she lets herself be more vulnerable around him. I guess I just find it sweet that she needs a bit of comfort too <3

[starwalker03]

I’m not sure if this question is crack or not. What would WMLP Dick do if Batman plus a Justice League team up beat up Slade and threw him in the phantom zone? Superman let Bruce cause they were both pissed about Slade killing Dick.

oh my godddddddd. because that's like. he's not getting Slade out of there. he's just not. the only way he has a chance to do that would be to get help from wither the league itself or... i don't even know. the future heroes have access I think. i don't even know. but Dick's not managing that.

(okay this got long so uhhhhh)

I mean I guess he's becoming Deathstroke! he probably would like to save Slade, and that's a goal int he back of his head, but he has no idea how to do that. so in the meantime he'll take up the mantle and get to work.

okay but if he did, I imagine Clark and Bruce like 'we're not letting him become as bad as Slade was' and immediately trying to arrest him. if they're at the point of throwing Slade in the phantom zone then they're probably at the point where they're willing to just be like 'no. we've decided Deathstroke doesn't get to be a thing anymore. we've had enough.'

which makes it rather difficult for Dick to do his job.

and like. Slade isn't getting out himself any time soon. So Dick probably is like 'y'know what? imma just... chill for a bit' as he starts getting information and stuff to hopefully break out M'Gaan, Conner and Kaldur. he's just not doing many contracts y'know.

after several close calls escaping Bruce and Clark I think he starts doing his work in disguise. or at least just in all black gear so he can't really be connected to Deathstroke. and that'll only be a solution for so long, because now he has a batman mercilessly trying to track him down.

I think they pick up on the fact that this new deathstroke isn't really doing typical contracts. sure he's killing but it's not a kill mission. he's breaking into things and stealing things and hacking things. and they can't find a buyer, they can't track anything down about who he's working for. so perhaps this of his own accord?

I think Clark starts getting hopeful that maybe there's more to this story, and perhaps there's a chance for rehabilitation. Bruce is too clouded by righteous fury, though.

Dick can't evade them forever, eventually he'll get caught, he can feel them at his heels. he hasn't been home in months, refusing to accidentally lead them to Rose, he's running out of safe houses and bases, but it's okay. he just needs to last long enough to save his friends old team mates.

and even if they catch him before that, if he has the dominoes set up he can hand it over to them and let them knock them over. at least his goal will be fulfilled and everyone will be free and he can... well. it doesn't matter after that. The only other priority is Rose, and he trusts Wintergreen to care for her.

I think they finally catch him when he breaks out M'Gaan. they barely manage to get out without Bee taking them down, Dick had to sedate M'Gaan to stop her from fighting him, but it's okay, he's in his getaway vehicle (a very small plane with enough fuel to get to a safer place where he has a vehicle kitted out to escape under the radar) when suddenly he's being tailed and it's not from Bee's military.

he's got it handled, he lasts surprisingly long, until he's close enough to the ground that the league decides he'll survive a full blown crash and fires direct on the ship. he's still awake when he lands, makes sure M'Gaan is okay, drags her away from the fire, and then he's surrounded by leaguers. and he just... can't. he just doesn't want to deal with this bullshit. he let's M'Gaan go, she can be caught, she'll be okay. they'll work on the brainwashing. he'd prefer to help her himself, without putting her in the stress that is being saved by the league, but it's fine. he'll take what he can get.

so yeah, he fights. he survives longer than he expected to. Superman can't just go flying out to Qurac and start shooting down planes, it'd cause an international incident. but Batman does whatever the fuck he wants. he's got Canary and Green Arrow and Green Lantern, who is taking care of the plane wreckage and making sure it doesn't explode or draw attention from Bee's intelligience.

but yeah. they win that fight. Dick doesn't stop fighting, face pressed into the sand, until the fire gets too close to M'Gaan and he starts screaming at them to get her away from it. she's not in danger of catching but she's way too close for a Martian.

they're telling him to focus on himself not someone else, he's in much more trouble then her, until eventually he just snaps, "It's M'Gaan you fucking idiots! get her away from the fire!"

Lantern gets on that immediately, pulling her away with his ring and getting her into their ship so he can check her vitals. and now Bruce is trying to interrogate him about This Whole Situation, as Canary is cuffing him, because how the fuck does he know M'Gaan? how did he know where she was?

Eventually Dick just snaps, "don't you think there's a better time for questions Bruce? fucking hell. you did it, you got me, calm the fuck down and get out of my face."

Bruce does not want to calm the fuck down and get out of his face, but Oliver basically pulls him back like 'he's right, calm down, we'll question him on the watch tower, we gotta get out of here before Bee shows up.' which is much too logical for Bruce to ignore it.

And then they knock Dick out so he doesn't try anything, drag him into the ship, and off they go to the watchtower. the fun thing is I don't think they even bother taking his mask off. they'll leave that for later. honestly it might not even occur to them because his identity doesn't really matter till they're putting him in the system. if they even do that. maybe they can just shove him in the phantom zone with his master. (Clark makes it clear he doesn't like that idea).

and then interrogations begin. Dick refuses to go along with any questioning until they tell him that M'Gaan is okay. they do tell him she's fine, he managed to keep her away from the fire pretty well and she's on track to finish bed rest at the end of the day. but after that there'll be a lot of work. she needs all kinds of therapy. Dick is relieved. they ask why he cared to save M'Gaan.

I think they have Canary interrogate him while Bruce watches behind the mirror, fuming, because everyone decided he was too emotionally compromised by the whole thing.

Canary: it's interesting you ask about M'Gaan. you seemed very invested in her well being. and getting her out of Bee's clutches couldn't have been easy. how do you know her?

Dick: I would've thought that was obvious by now.

Canary: explain it like it's not obvious.

Dick, wondering if there's any way he gets out of this without the truth coming to light. also wondering if he can put off telling the truth as long as possible because man this sucks: *sigh* can we just cut to the part where you tell me where the hell you're locking me up?

Canary: what makes you think we're putting you in prison?

Dick, mask covering face but still very evidently giving her a look of 'are you fucking serious?': do you want that list in alphabetical or chronological order?

Canary: funny. the first Deathstroke never used to be this entertaining to talk to.

Dick: that's cause of the permanent stick shoved up his ass.

Canary: so there's no love lost between you and your former mentor?

Dick, has been away from Slade long enough he's started to gain some semblance of independence and begun detaching his emotions from Slade: sure.

Canary: and how old were you when he took you as an apprentice?

Dick: no younger than most of your kid heroes. how are they doing by the way? still losing them?

Canary, not having any of that: how interesting that a question like that makes you lash out.

Dick, remembering she's a lawyer and also did their therapy, internally: shit

Canary: so you were young. and what exactly was the nature of your relationship? how did you meet?

Dick: tindr.

Canary: please stop deflecting. I'm trying to help you.

Dick: that's kind of hard to believe with my hands in cuffs and an inhibitor collar around my neck.

Canary: I think you can understand the precautions we need to take. now please, answer the questions.

Dick, knowing all of this is gonna come out eventually but hating it and hoping to just gloss over things: *sigh* I was fourteen.

Canary: I see. and where did he take you in from?

Dick, knowing the truth is going to be so specific but not really thinking of many other options: he killed me then brought me back with the same serum that gave him his enhancements

Canary, feeling a strange sense of foreboding and a tug in her memories, but not wanting to devolve the conversation: and why did he choose you?

Dick: ...

Canary, waiting patiently: ...

Dick: ...

Canary: ...

Dick: so like do you want to skip to the part where I tell you who I am, or...?

Canary: if you'd like. is it pertinent to my questions?

Dick: uh yeah you could say that.

Canary, beginning to have hypotheses she doesn't like: elaborate

Dick: uhhhhh...

Canary, never seen a Deathstroke, Slade or otherwise, fumbling this much: why are you anxious?

Dick, does not know why he's this anxious, because he totally doesn't care about any of this whatsoever, definitely, for sure: uh well- I wasn't expecting to have to do this shit when I started my mission to save M'Gaan

Canary, knows he's lying: I assumed you didn't wish for us to know your identity for typical reasons. but there's more to this. you simply don't want us to know... because?

Dick, currently with an inner monologue that sounds a lot like 'fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck': listen Dinah, I really don't need a therapy session right now.

Canary: I beg to disagree

Dick, really sick of this, is just gonna rip off the bandage: Dick Grayson

Canary, blue screening: wat

Sounds behind the mirror: *bang crash*

Dick: who's listening to us?

Canary: pay no attention to the man behind the curtain Dick Grayson is dead

Dick: only for like. a few weeks at most. actually Slade never told me back then, time kinda blurred

Canary, storming around the table to take off the mask: I swear to god if this is a game-

Dick, now not wearing a mask, hair very much a mess and getting in his eyes: hi?

Canary, mask in hand, gaping, very conflicted feelings right now, no idea what to do, ready to call in reinforcements: ... Bruce?!

sounds behind mirror: *more crashing and door opening*

Bruce: *appears in doorway*

Canary: *gestures vaguely at Dick, who could really use a hand getting a piece of hair out of his eye*

Dick: oh joy we're doing this now

Bruce: Dick? you're alive? you-

Dick: yes we've established that

Canary: I'm gonna leave you with Bruce-

Dick, does not want to talk to Batman: I would prefer if you did literally anything else

Bruce, scorned by a second son who's come back from death, does not know how to emotion, continues standing int he doorway because he doesn't have any space left in his brain computer for anything else right now, voice does not sound the way his brain does because it comes out all gruff and mean: you don't want to talk to me?

Canary, sensing a Problem oncoming: okay maybe I'll stay actually

Dick: what if I just go to prison and we skip all of this actually?

oh this got long. whoops. man now I have this whole thing playing in my brain lmao.

the idea of the league catching him without knowledge of anything else and just being like 'what the fuck' for a while until Clark is like 'time to rehabilitate him'. okay but Dick just moping around trying to avoid being rehabilitated and work on a way to escape so he can get back to Rose and saving his friends, but the league keep trying to make him become a better person. they're basically like 'team up with us and we'll save COnner and Kaldur! and maybe track down Artemis! you'll be like a double agent or something!' and he's like 'I have no interest in being the justice league's pet mercenary'

basically he becomes that guy in Buffy, the vampire with the blond hair. Spike? I think. he's just vibing in the background, against his wishes.

[kainagant]

I've reblogged stuff about like "send more asks!" before and I've decided to be the change I wish to see in the world SO

personally I like sniperhaul as a platonic pairing, not least because i see them both as Gay In The Wrong Direction. like in my mind they're constantly bickering but also refuse to leave each others' sides for more than a day because they both went through the same shit. they don't even dislike each other they're just constantly lowkey fighting for no reason other than habit

Also like. opinions on Bakugo Mitsuki/Tsutsumi Kaina? both in the sense of 'how would these two very different adult women interact' and in the sense of bakugo "i'm gonna be the number 1 hero at all costs" katsuki having tsutsumi "the hero system is fundamentally corrupt and being a hero is shit actually" kaina

(have i sent you an ask before? i think i might have)

hey there! i've never received an ask on this blog before, from you or anyone else, as its only like two weeks old. congrats on being the first 🎉🎉 (if you did send me an ask before, then tunglr ate it)

honestly chisaki kai is one of those characters that i perceive as aroace, which is like fifty percent me projecting and the other fifty is vibes. so whatever pairing i put him in is closer to a queerplatonic relationship than anything else. this is honestly the case for all shipping i do because i'm very aromantic but it's not always on purpose. but i'm also a shameless multishipper and i think that there's no single most correct pairing or even a single correct interpretation of said pairing.

this is all to say i love your take on sniperhaul. i definitely imagine them as the kind of duo who are always being catty with each other. borderline just pure rude if it weren't for the fact that the reason why they can banter freely is because of how well they understand each others' boundaries.

i feel like i have seen kaina/bakugo's mom fics and went. h u h. if you have any recs then i'll definitely read them. i think i was looking for something specific at the time so i scrolled past but now that you bring it up again i'm definitely intrigued. in regards to my first impressions of the pairing though. to be honest there's not a lot of canon information on mitsuki. her personality is assumed to be basically just katsuki but more chill. however i also think that the mothers of feral anime boys deserve to be even more feral because after ren gyokuen from magi something in my brain chemistry was permanently changed. so i'm just going to take liberties here and write mitsuki a personality that's not just "bakugo katsuki's mom".

so its obvious that katsuki takes after her, and she seems to understand that a lot of his mannerisms come from her. so i think she was one hell of a teenager. her quirk basically makes her have flawless skin. mitsuki was the definition of it girl. sorry she can't answer the phone she's at a party. maybe she even hooked up with kaina in college. if you really want to drive the katsuki connection in hard, maybe she was even a bit of a mean girl. though i think she wasn't as problematic as katsuki because she didn't have people feeding her ego constantly in the same way. anyway this is all to say that i think mitsuki mellowed out a lot with age. but she definitely still has something of a youthful spirit leftover from her heyday. her skin can be a metaphor for that.

if mitsuki is a woman who has held onto her youth, kaina is a woman who lost her youth early on. the phrase 'old beyond her years' applies here. she doesn't know how to be a teenager anymore. she forgot. what is it like to not spend every night haunted by the lives she took with her own hands? she doesn't remember.

when they meet then mitsuki takes one look at kaina and tries to ask her out for a drink. it's a small thing, but slowly, kaina is relearning how to be a person and not a weapon. mitsuki is showing her how. and mitsuki can't really understand what makes kaina miserable, what makes kaina wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. but mitsuki can stay awake with her. she can hold her close and say. hey. you're more than whatever you see when you look at your own hands. anyway this got really long. i'm just making stuff up on the fly but yeah they could have that kind of dynamic.

ok ok. cracks knuckles. kaina and katsuki. the thing is that they have surface similarities i think. "so how should i solve this problem i have…" kaina and katsuki both stare at me like im fucking stupid "blow its brains out??" there's a duh here. they're both the kind of person who is smarter than other people assume based off of first impressions. but that's only because they're the straight arrow type. there's no fucking around the point with these two, they're blunt and very goal focused. they tend to hyperfocus on whatever they're currently trying to do, and they don't stop to wonder if it's wrong or just a liiiitle fucked up. cue the rude awakening.

you mentioned bakugo's hero thing vs kaina's hero thing, but i think that they're not as at odds as one might think. bakugo's hero thing was never a "save everyone" shirou emiya style (thats midoriya's patent). he admired all might because all might was always victorious. kaina probably wouldn't have a strong opinion one way or another. he's obviously missing something to make him a "true hero" or whatever. but she's not stain, for goodness sake. the whole idea of there being a perfect hero feels incredibly fake to her. if anything, katsuki's honest "i'm going to win to save people" approach might be more genuine than some fragile idealism that he can't actually back up. actually. to be honest, katsuki would be exactly the kind of hero that kaina wants to see more of. he doesn't mince words or pretend to be more righteous than anyone else. full transparency: he can be kinda a dick. but if society is going to employ heroes than people need to understand that heroes are people too, and yeah. people can be dicks. pardon my french. i'm channeling katsuki.

i don't think kaina would care one way or another that katsuki is striving for number one. the hero rankings were never really a thing to her. kaina's problem with hero society wasn't the same problem as what stain had. i think people assume that it is, because stain kinda had half of a point, except for the culling the fakes thing. but i think kaina would very much disagree with stain. because stain wanted more pure heroes. he wanted to exalt the ideal hero, put them above everyone else. and kaina just wanted heroes to get off their high horse and admit that they aren't perfect. nobody is.

deep breath. so yeah. thanks for the ask. thanks for reading my incoherent rambles too, assuming you got this far. hopefully i actually answered your questions, but if i didn't then sorry, this definitely got away from me. i also followed you back from my mainblog, so cheers to being mutuals. i'll try to send you a bunch of asks too, since 🤝 be the change you want to see in the world.

[cajuncardtricks]

CAJUNCARDTRICKS is a private , mutuals only roleplay blog for REMY LEBEAU / THE GAMBIT from marvel's X MEN. this blog is inspired by the comics , headcanons , the x men 97 series & deadpool & wolverine. this blog will contain mature content , and you must be 21+ to interact. mun and muse are 21+. penned by jj.

⁰¹ 𝙍𝙐𝙇𝙀𝙎 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒. ⁰² 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝘿𝘾𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙉𝙎. ⁰³ 𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝘾𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀. ⁰⁴ 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙏𝙎. ⁰⁵ 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏. ⁰⁶ 𝙎𝙄𝘿𝙀𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙂.

" Step right up , then follow the spinning staff. Take your best shot , if you DARE ! The gentleman assumes the pot is his to win ... but I have a LITERAL ace up my sleeve. I got no problem wit' thieves, Redhand. "

exploring themes such as ... the life of crime , redemption through unconventional means , sacrifice , love overcoming everything , the rogue criminal , classism , racism , embracing the chaos , leaving it to the luck of the cards.

DISCLAIMER. THIS IS A DO NOT FOLLOW FIRST BLOG. i made this blog to rp with my friends i have here on tumblr , and while i have a lot to say and write about my boy here ... i am limited and don't wanna get overwhelmed. please do not follow this blog first , and reach out to me on one of my other blogs if you want a follow. ( violators of this rule will be blocked. )

this blog is mutuals only. that means i will only be writing with people that i am mutuals with from this blog. keep in mind that this blog uses sideblogs for most muses , and cannot follow back from them. you must be following this hubb blog to write with any of my muses.

this blog will be writing heavily mature and triggering content. that being said , this blog has a mature rating , and will only be writing with people 21+. this is for my own comfort , and i will not be making any exceptions. i'm also going to get out of the way that i am open to shipping , but no smut will be written with any muse under 18.

i will be using icons , small text , and formatting of various types on this blog. THIS IS NOT A REQUIRMENT TO WRITE WITH ME. i do this stuff for my own amusement. i base whether or not i follow someone based on if i think our writing is compatible.

this is not my only blog. i also am disabled , and have days where for one reason or another , i just can't be here all the time. i will do my best to make sure that i am here and keep up with things. most of my replies will be in a queue.

i'm open to shipping , but please check with me before assuming a ship. i don't ship every canon ship so please don't assume i ship anything that might be canon. most of the time i'm open to giving it a shot ... but it's best to check with me first.

no drama. it's really that simple. i don't have the time for it anymore , and refuse to engage in any of that. drama , toxic behavior , calling people out. not here for my blog. do not bring it to me. we're all here to have fun , so let me have my space be chill and drama free.

[plumsaffron]

Miracucunts roast pt. 10:

Can we please stop victim blaming young men like Adrien? Come on, he’s actually exploited by his father! And the adults in his life are either complacent or helpless!

This whole time the Adrien fans are more chill than the Marinette fans…

Want an example of toxic communities? There we have it folks! The Miracubozos refusing to move the fuck on from season 3!

Ok what’s with some writers forgetting about Marinette’s Asian heritage in some DC Xover fics?? Y’all are really trying too hard to create bio!dad Bruce AUs! We already have his canon wards, at least those other fan writers are more respectful of the canon sources! Heck, the bio fam batfamily from only their universe/source material is infinitely better than the Xover ones any day!

The DC fans be like, “Huh? What’s up with the Damian tags rising? *looks at social media feed but frowns* Wait why is a soft ass show crossing over with DC? WTF is going on?! They don’t even make sense at all!”

Hope you don’t mind me sharing a few opinions from other similar things:

Danny Phantom x other shows fanfics are probably just diet versions of Miraculous crossovers. But the bashing is quite toned down on his parents and canon girlfriend Sam that a portion of the fandom detests. I don’t mind crossover ships since the DP phandom is chill about it but it’s always the miracubitches ruining crossover fics. Funny thing is that Danny’s fans also do the “Protagonist Morality Centric” and coddle him more/treat him better than the Miraculous protagonists’ fans. Strangely he isn’t an abuse victim yet some fans write him as such. I don’t even follow the tags anymore since late 2023 but I’d occasionally share my opinions/criticism when I feel like it, and nobody dogpiled me on AO3! Pointing out various fandom parallels, they aren’t so different in their stans and hatedoms after all. It’s just certain sections of a community being way louder than others. I’m kinda uninterested in it now because DP’s canon is more bearable compared to Miraculous. At least I’d admit that it’s not the best show in history because of said canon and some fans making Danny immune from criticism, treating him like an innocent angel even though he’s got flaws like everyone. Though their canonically released graphic novel really fixed things.

Turning off the mature button on any art site without tag filtering is a regretful decision… even worse on D/A when there’s clearly sus art that deserves to have the mature filter. I feel bad for innocent and good users who are too used to using the site to upload their content… but they really should move somewhere more manageable like tumblr, AO3 or whatever else isn’t uber cultish or volatile.

I mean, I have nothing against that kind of art but those people should’ve just done that on the more mature sites instead of the mainstream sites… I’m guessing they’re too damn lazy to do it… the staff are either too busy with other matters, complacent with it or just don’t care whilst punishing those who did nothing wrong.

Strange thing is, when other people give out similar toned reviews on other series, they didn’t get deleted by TVTropes staff or mass flagged by the stans. Probably because they are secretly biased when it comes to how opinions are said and done. Or maybe my deleted review was a little too “harsh and mean” for their standards. That site has potential for introducing canon content and fanfics for curious internet users, not just people using creative funny terms. But they’re overshadowed by biased staff who’s more worried about silencing harmless opinions rather than making sure people are behaving. The review section should have the 5 star system like other sites so people can sort them out, hence reducing the likelihood of being silenced.

In mid 2022, I tried to create a page for a popular canon divergent fanfic from One Punch Man but that got deleted for “lack of updates/maintenance”. Yet someone else did the same thing and didn’t get whacked in early 2023. Probably because that current version is better written than the old version. Even so, there should’ve been sections for the old and new versions because some readers were ok with the old deleted one. Even if there were Karens fussing a lot with guest reviews (no login needed so that’s bad for inactive fics unlike AO3 ones where guest emails are required not just regular users) about the old version on Fanfiction.Net/FFN. No good deed goes unpunished huh?

Indeed. It doesn’t take much for these maggots to discard everything they know goes on in Adrien’s life. They gotta find or make a way to blame him or fault him and put him on equal scale of all else. Gabriel Nathalie and Tomoe can hold hands destroying him and everyone but somehow people will erupt against Adrien over some minor inconvenience to them. Then they want to find way to auto drag him into a situation to be at fault cause well idk. People are weird.

It’s so...ugh.

Oh gawd. That Marinette going to DC thing or that strange Damianette thing. EEK. That thing seems like a some methfic people wanna taken seriously to save Marinette or her to live a better life somehow. Huh herritage of Marinette erasure. These people find new ways to even crap on the girl they want to move to Gotham for some reason. I remember scrolling and few of these crossover methfics were for Lila Saltery. Honestly, what are these peeps doing?

People do love choosing when to purge one while turning blind eyes on another or others doing similar to beyond. Seems these people targeting you view you as their real struggle in life. They want to be pissy and triggered and unfortunately higher-ups are lames. The I’m cool with them doing to it but you somehow cause them to commit...

All cause

DA is pretty cursed. I’m like why at times...

Sucks how some sections/fandoms are rather chill whereas other sections/fandoms of are off the deep end (especially when the deep end ones seem or are the more prominent)

[gbee-writes]

A Star Shines

Epilogue

---

“Play us a song!”

Kantus stopped in the doorway at the demand. When he turned back around Bratha was sitting up again, which unfortunately meant that the other three were following suit.

An exasperated smile pulled Kantus’s lips. He should have known they wouldn’t let him forget.

“Alright, but you must go to sleep after I play.”

The children were quick to agree to his terms.

After tucking them all back in, Kantus pulled out his violin and made sure it was in tune before pulling the bow across the strings. Music filled the air and warmth flooded his chest as Moa pulled Nich in closer.

He planned on playing one song and returning to the others but Kantus couldn’t bring himself to stop. His children dozed off one by one. It wasn’t until Nalluk was sleeping soundly that he let his hands fall.

“Ye cannae tell’em no when they ask fer it, can ye?” Des slid her arms around his shoulders, resting her head beside his. Her tone was so caring it hurt. She must have slipped into the room sometime during his songs.

Kantus leaned into her. “No, I simply do not have the heart to refuse them. How can I, when they look so sad when I do?”

Des hummed lightly. Together they watched the children sleeping for a quiet moment. Kantus couldn’t help the swell of affection and joy he felt. His chest seemed close to bursting.

“Sometimes I wonder if this is how my mother felt looking upon Jekle and me.”

“I ain’t doubtin it.” Des murmured. “From what I hear she loved ye more than anythin.” As Kantus leaned into her he felt her lips brush his cheek. He turned his head so they could kiss. “Ye head up an get some air ‘fore bed, aye?”

“Yes ma’am.” Kantus gave her another kiss before slipping quietly from the room.

Up on the deck he spotted Yewle at the railing watching the last rays of sunlight fade away. Her hair ruffled in the wind. She didn’t seem to mind the chill it surely brought.

As he approached she glanced over. A warm smile greeted him closer and  Kantus rested his arms on the railing next to her. They stayed in comfortable silence until the sun was hidden in it’s wait till the morning, listening to the waves lapping the side of the ship rhythmically. He could never stop loving that sound.

“Can you believe how much has changed since that day?”

He looked over to her. Yewle almost couldn’t be recognized as the same woman she had been. After all she truly wasn’t. Her gentle features had weather hardened, perfect complexion marred by scars and marks. Most ladies of her standing would have been horrified. Yewle wore the experience as a mark of pride.

But that was only her looks, and her looks very well reflected how she had grown inside as well.

“Do you recall the first dual you were in?” Kantus chuckled.

“Oh goodness Kantus, don’t you dare remind me of that.”

His shoulder shook with the effort of keeping his laughter down. “After only three lessons-”

“I challenged someone; I was swiftly shown my place.” Yewle made a face at him, doing nothing to help the amusement.

“You had the enthusiasm!”

“And the foolhardiness. I truly don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I’m not sure you were.”

Yewle leaned back and crossed her arms. “I thought quite a bit actually, simply not about anything but my fantasies.” After a moment where Kantus couldn’t hold his laughter anymore she rolled her eyes. “Are you done dredging up my past blunders? I have plenty of yours to return the favor if not.”

He chuckled himself into silence. “Oh I’m sure you do. I would love to trade them but I believe it’s time for me to tuck in. Do get some rest soon as well.”

He gave her a friendly pat on her arm before returning to the captain’s quarters. Des was already snoring as he stepped in the room. A warm hum fell from his lips at the sight.

Her arms were hugging a pillow close, her cheek squishing in a deeply charming manner. Kantus found that her rough and earthly beauty was something so deeply alluring, even after all their years together.

There were nights Kantus would lie awake and trace every scar on her face. Each one of them told a story, each one led her to become the woman he had married.

He was quick to changing into his nightclothes. When he climbed into the bed next her Des grunted and with a heaving twist she rolled around to latch onto him instead of the bedding.

She released a deep breath before going back to snoring. Kantus wrapped his arms around her and was quickly drifting off into peaceful slumber.

---

A deep yawn pushed from Jekle’s chest. The candle was nearly down to an unusable stump as he sifted through more papers. He was certain it was beyond a point where he should have been awake, and he hadn’t planned on being up so late, but a few more pages sorted out wouldn’t hurt.

“My darling,” Jekle jolted at the voice. He turned to the door where Ston was waiting. “It’s late.”

He sighed as he turned back to the papers. “I’m nearly finished. I’ll be in bed short-” Ston’s arms wrapped around his waist and caused him to falter.

“It’s late.” The whisper broke his resolve. Jekle gathered the papers in a neat stack before blowing out the candle. All his exhaustion became much more noticeable as Ston led him back to their bedroom.

It was strange to him that the small, homey room was far more comfortable than his room at the manor ever had been. Maybe it was the lack of danger, or the freedom from overostentatious decor, maybe it was the joy of who he had the delight to share it with. Whatever it was Jekle found himself relaxing further there.

He waited until Ston was comfortably laying in bed before crawling in himself and curling to his husband's side. A contented hum spilled from his lips. Ston pulled him somehow closer. "When did they say they would return?"

"Hmm," Jekle slipped his eyes closed. "Less than a fortnight, weather permitting."

"Are you excited? Their children will want to play with us all hours."

A smile pulled up the corner's of Jekle's mouth. He loved his neice and nephews no matter how ragged they ran him. When he had found out that Des was pregnant he had celebrated nearly as much as Kantus and reasured his brother in his worries about fatherhood.

Little Bratha was a wonderful blessing. Kantus was just as doting a father as Jekle had predicted, wrapped around the babe's little finger.

And of course after getting over the momentary surprise at their sudden appearance, Jekle had welcomed the two slave boys they'd saved with wide open arms. He had happily done the same when Nalluk had been brought into Des and his brother's brood. The Star's old crew had quite a time teasing them about inheriting Cabern's children aquirement habbits.

Jekle hummed again. "I am quite excited for their return. I wish to spoil the children rotten before they grow too big for such things."

"They could be ancient and you would still spoil them." Ston countered with a light prod to Jekle's side. He let out a chuckle as he half-heartedly tried to pull away from it.

After Bratha had been born they had decided to speak about whether they wanted children too or not. Both of them decided their niece and nephews was enough, a choice that would have Jekle's father rolling in his grave, he was sure.

If his father was in a grave that is.

Jekle idly wondered if Kantus also questioned how Toun was doing. Perhaps not, given how Kantus was treated far worse than he had been. Lonette also crossed his mind from time to time but he was much less invested in what had happened to her after the failed wedding. She barely spoke with him after all. Not unless she had found a quality to heckle out of him.

"Darling?"

"Hmm?"

"You're thinking of them again, aren't you?" Jekle sighed at the question.

"Yes," He said rather bluntly. "I struggle to help it sometimes. I am aware of their transgressions against Kantus and I but..." Another sigh. "Curiosity is a strong motivator. I often wonder if Father would be proud of me."

Ston placed a kiss to his brow. "I know it is not the same but Cabern is proud of you, as am I, and your brother."

Despite how different that was, hearing it did make Jekle feel slightly better. All those years ago when the new boards on the Star had met Cabern and the rest of the old crew they had been welcomed in as if they had been part of the family since the beginning.

Going from Father's strict upbringing to being gently nurtured by Cabern was...jarring. It wasn't a surprise when Jekle found himself viewing the man as something of another father figure. Kantus had clearly done the same, to a much more prominent degree. He would often refer to Cabern as "Cappa" like all of the retired captain's other children did.

Jekle let out a thoughtful hum. As sleep pulled his mind down he hoped, not for the first time, that Toun had allowed himself to heal and become better.

---

It was such a beautiful evening. Birdsong filled the garden air and a soft breeze rustled the leaves. Toun breathed in the perfumes of the flowers with a smile. It was bittersweet but that was why he loved his walks after tea.

Walking down his normal path was slower than when he first had the garden reverted to the last arrangement Essaira had it in, with his reliance on the cane he had aged into, but that simply meant more time to reflect. Without Lonnette’s constant changes the plants had grown to a beautiful maturity Toun had sorely missed.

He ambled past the great willow tree, one of the few things his now remarried ex-wife hadn’t touched, and seated himself upon the bench he’d had installed. 

“Hello Kantus,” Toun murmured to the figure across from him. It wasn’t truly his son, and that fact made him ache horribly, but the stone statue would simply have to be enough. 

“I’m having a lovely day. My apprentice has taken so well to the tasks, I fear I don’t have much left to teach him. I was unneeded in doing paperwork and as such he insisted I returned home to rest.”

The statue was silent as always. Dappled lighting danced across Kantus’s carved features, drawing the eye to his carefree smile.

The figure curved in a faux turn, swaying to silent music it played from the marble violin held gently in its hands. It was a memory, a glimpse at the last time he had heard his son play. Toun had been quite proud of the artist for capturing Kantus so well.

“I do hope you’ve had a good day as well.” Toun pulled himself back to his feet. As he made to continue his journey he turned back. “Please return home soon. I miss you, I miss your melodies.”

He trailed past a few bushes, a flower bed, and found himself at a fountain. In the center was a decorated column. The relief carved into the rock was of Jekle in a lovers embrace with his servant.

Toun had only learned the young man’s name after he had lost them. An ache grew in his chest. Ston had deserved better. 

He remembered how Jekle had tried to convince him of letting them marry: the way his son described the boy. His eyes had lit up in a way Toun hadn’t seen in years.

The carver had been instructed to have wedding bands showing on their fingers. Perhaps they never got to marry. Toun so very much hoped they had. Jekle had the same love-struck gaze that Toun had proudly wore when he had his Essaira with him.

“I’m so sorry, I should have given you both a chance.” He let out a weary sigh. “If you’ve stayed with each other I pray your lives together went better than mine and your mother’s. I pray you get to grow old together...”

The wind whispered past. What secrets did it hold? Toun would probably never know, but he would listen all the same.

“Sir!” Toun turned to a servant rushing towards him. “You have guests, sir.”

Toun’s brows rose. “I do?”

“Yes sir, they are waiting in the tea room.”

He nodded. Odd that someone would visit. It had become a rare occurrence after being shamed so horridly all those years ago. Not that he held any grudges upon his sons. No, he understood their need to escape quite well.

Further adding to his confusion, the sounds of rowdy children met him at the tea room doors. Who did he know that would bring their children?

As he reached for the handle another voice came through and-

“Bratha please, the drapes will not hold your weight like the rigging.”

Was it? It had to be! The voice held a seasoned undertone it hadn’t before but it was unmistakable!

Toun flung the door open faster than intended, slamming it against the wall. The room went silent. His eyes were graced with Kantus mid-way at pulling a young boy off his curtains, Des sitting at the table with two more young boys, and a young lady seemingly either attempting to help Kantus or distract him.

A cough drew his attention to the second table where Jekle and Ston sipped tea, sitting almost inappropriately too close. Wedding bands glinted on their hands.

Both of his sons had grey peppering in their hair, but only Kantus had a beard. The boy in Kantus’s arms was clearly his own son, sharing his eyes and a birthmark under his right eye. The two boys with Des and the young girl shared her darker skin tone and general features but in a way that made it clear she was not related. They held no visual traits that matched Kantus at all. However, it was clear from the way Des protectively leaned towards them that blood or not, they were considered her children.

Kantus had children. He was a grandfather. Jekle and Ston had been able to marry. Tears blurred Toun’s vision as he processed the sight. A smile pushed through his shock. 

“Boys...” The breathy whisper broke the tension and a warmth he hadn’t felt in decades filled the room. “You’re home.”

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---

Please click the art for quality, I didn’t spend the time I did on these for tumblr to do me dirty this way.

@cinnabarmint

@givethispromptatry

[aesterblaster]

Reonagi, space <- for the ship prompt

"I just need some space Reo."

Nagi was blunt. That was why Reo liked him so damn much in the first place, but damn did it hurt when it was redirected. He had been trying so hard to make this work, to make everything perfect for his best friend's last year of high school.

"You've been running me around everywhere, it's fucking annoying. I can't stand it anymore." That much was true. They'd been to a concert, countless soccer matches, three school related programs, one semester school and god only knows how many study sessions. Reo was the type of person to push the envelope and Nagi thought it was nice having such a rich friend at first, but he just felt like a plus one, like a commodity.

The only reason the lazy teen managed to drag himself out to all those ridiculous events was because he knew deep down that if he didn't go, Reo still would. He knew that late at night he'd be all alone in his room, scrolling through Reo's socials and wishing he were there, squinting at the girls next to him in the photos clearly trying to feel him up, staring a little too hard at how good he looked in whatever he was wearing...

Reo made a face. "Oh c'mon dude. You know you don't have to say yes if you don't wanna."

"But doesn't that break our rule Reo?" he asked in that same matter of fact tone that managed to send a chill down Reo's spine every time anyway. "The one about me trying everything at least once for Senior year? Well, here I am, about to graduate and then go pro like you always wanted. And you're going to too right?"

A silence fell between them like a branch of a tree finally giving out under the weight of its snowy coat. Reo scoffed, "You know my dad would actually kill me if I didn't go to collage, Nagi. And you were accepted too, you have good grades."

"Only because you help me." Nagi quipped. What he refused to include was how much he enjoyed those study sessions, them sitting close together to pour over the same book, Reo's adorable explanations of concepts that even the best teachers struggled to portray, the way he'd praise him when he got things right.. Curse Reo and his addictiveness. That's exactly why he needed to get away, why he needed to start to cut himself off before he was inevitably heartbroken when Reo moved away. "And collages don't just let athletes stay when they're failing. I'll be kicked out in a year."

"You're always so pessimistic. What the fuck! Fine, if you want to sit in your flat and be a bum all day then go do it and see if I care! I've poured so much into you. You don't even know how many nights I've spent thinking about you and worrying about you." Nagi's face softened, Reo was thinking about him? "And your stupidity! It's like you can't see what's right in front of your face! How much I care about you? How much I want you to succeed? You're the one abandoning me! We could go pro together, become sensations and you want to leave that all behind because you're a little scared of collage?"

"Nagi, I don't think I could go that long without seeing you or playing soccer with you. It would break me, don't you get it?" Despite his better judgement, Reo took a few steps closer to Nagi. Closing the space between them with a few swift strides. He was so glad the yard was empty. It was just them. Practicing their passes, like always. Just them, as the sun set and spread arms of yellow and orange across the once blue sky.

"Reo..." He knew he should be angry at the way Reo broke his boundaries so quickly, the way he'd done it over and over and over again. Just pushed a little more when he should've left it alone. But the athlete just wouldn't stop talking, going on and on about how he was sure Nagi didn't even appreciate him.. So Nagi shut him up the only way he really knew how, the only way he had ever thought of during all those study sessions.

He grabbed his face and kissed him, suprisingly softly, like he was scared Reo'd melt away. After they parted Reo was stunned, flushed, and at first Nagi was worried that this meant he didn't feel the same, that he'd storm off and threaten him and never see him again. But then Reo pressed back against Nagi, feeling the space in his lungs get smaller and bigger and smaller again as he breathed like he just ran a marathon. "You have no idea how many times I've tried to get you to do that."